DISCLAIMER: THE AUTHOR NEITHER CONDONES NOR SUPPORTS CHILD MOLESTATION, CHILD ABUSE, PEDOPHILIA, OR RAPE AND SEXUAL ASSAULT. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE AUTHOR'S VIEWS OR MORALS. THE AUTHOR PUTS THEMSELVES IN THE PLACE OF THE VICTIM WHEN WRITING SUCH PROBLEMATIC AND CONTROVERSIAL PIECES.

((Just a short smutty one-shot I wrote to accompany THIS GLORIOUS PIECE OF ART BY X57.))

Harsh, warm light illuminated John's prone form. Stretched across the crimson sheets, bound by scratchy rope, he wriggled and tugged and tried to pull free from his bonds. It wasn't right. The last thing he could remember was bumping into a man in a nice suit, and then... Nothing. Nothing until he woke up.

"Hello?" John's voice trembled as he called out into the darkness of the room. Outside of the light shining down on the bed, there was no other illumination. Just circling blackness, threatening to devour him. Was it just his imagination, or did the light shrink just the tiniest bit?

"Ah, my sweet little boy is awake." A low, playful little brogue filtered in from the corner of the room, still obscured by the darkness. "I wondered how long you'd be out..."

As the strange man approached, John noticed the familiarity of his face. He was the one he ran into!

"Don't hurt me," John sobbed. "Please, please don't, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you..." This was punishment, it had to be! He'd never seen the handsome man before, not until he barreled into his leg.

"Hurt you? Daddy would never hurt you." His smile sent chills down John's bare spine. There was something predatory in his gaze... something hungry, ready to consume him and tear him apart.

"Just let me go... I don't know you, I don't know who you are..."

John's captor lifted a leather instrument. The end was covered in many strips, almost like some sort of whip. He didn't understand - what was he going to do with that?

"I have some questions. You're going to answer them. What's your name, darling?"

"I - I'm not telling!"

The man clicked his tongue. "Wrong answer." The leather came down, striking the soft curve of his arse. John yelped, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain that blossomed from the hit.

"John! My, my name is John..."

"Good boy. My name is Jim, but you get to call me something special." As he spoke, Jim lifted something from the pocket of his trousers and bent over the bed. A phone, with a small tripod to hold it in place.

"You're going to call me Daddy."

John didn't want to. He wanted to go home, to take a bath and forget about the way the sheets felt against his naked body. Why did Jim take him? It was an accident, he wasn't watching where he was going...

"Johnny."

He snapped out of his thoughts, turning his blue eyes up to Jim. Before he could answer the flail came down again, snapping against his skin. Gasping in pain, John writhed in his bonds as if he could get away.

The worst part was the tingling left after each blow. How it sent heat flooding to his groin. Jim noticed; his small cock stiffening against his soft stomach, the whine catching in the back of his throat...

"I think you like this, Johnny," he whispered, dragging the leather over John's stomach. "Naughty little thing, aren't you..."

He cast the flail aside and unbuttoned his shirt, baring his pale skin to John's sight. John shivered and shook as he glanced over Jim's chest; though he looked small clothed, beneath his expensive suit his body was muscular. As Jim folded the shirt, John marveled at the way his biceps bulged.

There was no way he could escape. Not with Jim being that strong.

Jim didn't bother removing his slacks. He drew a small bottle out of his other pocket and clicked the lid open, watching John with a dark gleam in his eyes. "This may be a little cold," he purred, "But it will make this so much better."

Wet fingers slid between his pink cheeks, ghosting over his muscle. John gasped and tried to shrink away, but Jim pinned his leg with his free hand. "I wonder just how tight you are... virginal, pure, such a precious little treat for Daddy, aren't you? I've been watching you, Johnny Boy. I had to have you. Now here you are... Oops. Everything fell right into place."

He didn't want to enjoy it. John hated how good it felt. A low moan escaped his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about what Jim was doing to him. Bad touch, his parents taught him it was a bad touch but he couldn't help himself. He enjoyed it.

"That's what I thought..."

By the time Jim worked his third finger into John, he lay crying and canting his hips down against his fingers. It stung, being stretched open, but for all the danger of the situation Jim was fairly gentle with him.

"I don't think I can wait, Johnny," Jim whispered, trailing kisses along his throat. "Those sounds you make... I can't get enough." John wasn't entirely sure what Jim planned for him. Clearly whatever he intended was to be filmed, if the phone was any indication, but beyond that he couldn't comprehend.

Not until he felt something hot and blunt pressing into him.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he tugged at the ropes, crying softly. That dull, throbbing ache grew to a fire that curled and licked and threatened to envelop him. It felt… wrong. Too full, whatever was sliding into him was too big and there was so much pressure and it hurt - but it also felt good, in a weird way John couldn't express even to himself.

Jim knew he couldn't fuck the boy properly. He was too young, his body too small, but even the few inches John's body gave him was enough. Slow, with incredible self restraint, Jim rolled his hips forward. The hot slide coaxed a needy, primal growl from his throat and Jim dipped his head down to John's.

"Please, sir, it - "

"What did I say, Johnny?"

Swallowing, John forced the words out. "P-please, Daddy, I don't know what you're doing and it feels - it feels weird…"

"You'll come to love being fucked, Johnny," Jim panted. "I'll make sure of that. Such a good boy."

He knew John couldn't take much, but Jim longed to test his limits. Grinning wickedly he thrust faster, listening to the springs creak and groan beneath their sweat-slicked bodies. John's hard little prick pressed against his body as Jim pushed his thighs up.

Deeper. Harder.

John didn't want to like the way it felt. He didn't want to wriggle his hips to take more of Jim, he didn't want to turn his blushing, tear-stained face to the camera, he didn't want to whimper Daddy as if the word were candy on his tongue, but there he was. Still crying, but he couldn't ignore Jim's soft lips and low whispers.

Though it scared him, he wanted Jim to feel good. he wanted Jim to want him.

Jim's lilted voice filled the room as he fucked into John, claiming him, stretching him, biting marks around the leather collar covering his throat. John would be his by the end of the night. From the wicked heat of his pussy to the breathy little sobs he tried to stifle, John was absolutely perfect.

And now John belonged to him.

He came with a snarl of the boy's name, burying himself deeper as his thick cock pulsed and spilled inside him. John rutted against his stomach with a whine, too young to fully understand the tremors that shook his body. It felt incredible, he was warm and tingly and tousled and Jim was heavy and strong above him…

He shouldn't like it.

He shouldn't like Jim.

"Oh, I am definitely keeping you," Jim whispered, letting his head fall against John's. All it would take was a small payment to his parents, enough to keep their mouths shut… No one would go looking for the little blond boy if he pulled the right strings. As for the video?

That would keep him occupied when he had to travel.

"Daddy," John whispered, closing his eyes. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad here. Maybe, if he asked nicely, Jim would let him have softer rope.

"When I can trust you, I'll untie you," Jim assured him. "For now… welcome to your new home, Johnny Boy."