(Warning next two chapters will be of a darker nature. You have been warned.)
John bowed his head almost as if in prayer as he allowed Randy to fit the black leather strap around his mouth. The gag had a hole in the front to give access to his mouth but the back snapped tightly around the back of his head. From under his lowered eyelashes John saw the black blindfold Randy pulled out next from his black bag. John's entire world went black as the blindfold was secured over his eyes. When Randy was finished with him all that was visible was the top of John's cropped head and his nose. He wondered how long wearing the blindfold would last. Randy liked to gaze into John's eyes as he worked...witness and feed off the pain he saw in them. John's senses were now almost completely cut off, well the ability to see and feel. Tasting, hearing and smell were still with him though John knew the only thing he would be tasting would be Randy's cum and the only thing he would be smelling would be their combined sweat and Randy's unique scent. But it was what John would be hearing that bothered him the most because he knew exactly what it would be.
The sound of his own screaming.
It would not be the kind of screams that made the neighbors call the cops. It would be the relentless, silent screaming that filled a man's mind, shattered his soul and brought a stubborn man like John to his knees in defeat. Taste. Smell. Sound. They were John's only friends now and he had to rely on them. John heard Randy rustling in the bag again.
He could smell something sweet and his ears picked up the sound of a cap being removed from a bottle. He heard a squirting sound and then another one...was Randy jacking off? John doubted that with him helpless in front of him willing to do anything Randy asked. As soon as the sounds started they stopped, leaving John confused.
"You know what, Baby Boy?" Randy said to John calmly as if he was not staring down at his bound lover to whom he was about to commit untold sinful acts upon. "When you drink your mouth gets dry. You know that. I can't fuck a dry mouth. I need to feel my cock being shoved into something warm and moist. Is your mouth wet enough to please your Daddy?" With his mouth forced open from the gag and the drinking earlier John's throat felt so dry that he could hardly swallow. "You don't have to answer that, Baby." Randy chuckled. "I've already prepared myself to help you out. You can thank me later."
John had no clue what Randy was talking about until the tip of Randy's cock entered his mouth. Taste. The taste was that of...an overwhelmingly artificial peach. Randy had slicked himself with the sticky lube and was probing John's mouth with it.
"Mmmm..." Randy moaned. "That's good. Nice and wet for Daddy." He grabbed the back of John's head and forced his entire length down John's throat. "Soooo good."
John fought not to throw up as his stomach heaved. Randy knew that he hated the taste of peach, anything peach and he had purposely almost injected his cock with it. "Asshole." John mumbled the best he could with a mouth full of cock and around the gag.
"You say something, Johnny?" Randy asked sweetly as he pulled out and slammed back in with enough force to punch a hole in the back of John's throat. He rotated his hips to swirl his cock around in John's mouth to coat all his taste buds with the taste of peach. John fought becoming sick as he waited for Randy to take his pleasure. Randy continued his assault a few more minutes before pulling out of John's mouth, his hard cock dripping with John's saliva. "You're boring me, Johnny." He snapped. "Where did you learn to suck cock? From Cody?" John could not answer as lube pooled from the corners of his open mouth. "Get the fuck up!" Randy commanded darkly. "I'm going to have to send you back to Hunter if you keep this shit up."
John's eyes widened in terror behind the blindfold and he shook his head rapidly, trying to beg for mercy behind the gag. Hunter made Randy seem like a gentle lover. He was a depraved maniac that had all but ripped John's mouth to pieces the last time they had all played together.
"Okay, calm down, Baby." Randy said after hearing John's pitiful pleas. "Last time Hunter was done with you I couldn't fuck you for over a week. I'm not letting him get his hands on you anytime soon. Now get up! For every second you keep me waiting that's how many lashes you'll get." John struggled to get up with his hands bound and Randy rolled his eyes, jerking John to his feet before looking through his bag again. He pulled out a whip and before John could prepare himself mentally for the pain Randy brought the whip down across his tender skin. John's back arched as the tip cut into his flesh, leaving a line of blood. "Oh, Baby Boy." Randy moaned, at the sight of John's tanned back being opened by his first blow. He trailed a finger along the wound, picking up some of the warm, sticky substance. "That's it, Baby. Bleed for Daddy. Oh fuck." He panted out. Randy bent to lick and trace the cut with his tongue slowly and John's cock responded to the sensation by hardening almost instantly. Randy reared back to land a few more harder blows with the whip. John lost his balance as his body arched in pain and he toppled to the floor.
Randy gave John's body a soft kick. "Come on, Johnny. You're tougher than that. You know you love it when I make you hurt soooo good."John felt his balls tighten as a warm feeling flowed through him. Everyone looked up to him as the conquering hero. To feel so weak and powerless before the Viper was an adrenaline rush only Randy could offer him. "Don't make me make it hurt so bad." Randy warned, his tone dark and ominous. John only moaned from his place on the floor, "Fine." Randy huffed. "We'll do it your way." He rained down blow after blow on John's helpless body until the submissive man could no longer distinguish between pain and pleasure. John's cock tightened so much that he thought his skin might burst. "Hurt me." He begged through the gag. The words were muffled but Randy heard them. He knew how much John's body almost craved the pain even if the man himself would never admit that fact. Randy stood over him welding the whip pure domination as he sliced through John's skin like butter. It was not enough for the Viper. It was never enough. Not enough blood, not enough screams, not enough tears. He wanted it all. He wanted to devour every piece of John, his sanity, his very life. Nothing was ever enough to sate him. Randy knew how John felt about him. The man had loved him for years. He was not stupid. He could read emotions...he just was not wired properly somehow. The parts of him that should respond to things like love seemed barren and empty at times. Randy was bad news and John should have run away from him years ago. The fact that he did not made him more insane than Randy. They were perfect for each other.
Randy was wearing John out with lashes and licks from the whip. He had lifted John's heavy body and had him draped across the bed. He was a mess of welts and raw bloody gashes covering his broad back as he gasped for breath, his chest heaving. "Had enough yet, Johnny?" Randy looked at John's body and shook his head. The vision below him was sickening and sometimes Randy wondered what the hell was wrong with him. If he belonged in a padded room somewhere so he could not hurt the man who loved him most.
John nodded his head weakly as it rested against the mattress. He had enough to last a lifetime. All he wanted to do was crawl under the blankets and feel Randy hold him tenderly. But that was not going to happen. Not now not ever. Randy Orton was a sick person and John his personal play thing. There was a thin line in their relationship, a line that ran down John's tender heart and cracked it into two pieces. On one side lay the piece that endured the torture, Randy's dark moods and lack of any true emotional connection. On the other was the real John, the one that had existed before Randy had come into his life. This was the side that had fallen in love with him, that longed for more, for the sweet words Baby Boy to mean more than a mock endearment to taunt him with what could never be.
True love exists you just have to be willing to put up with what comes along with it no matter how painful emotionally or physically.
There was a thud as Randy dropped the bloody whip to the floor and began to rumage through the bag again. John thought he might know what Randy was looking for and his balls almost wanted to shrivel up at the very thought.
Mr. O, a spreader given the name for the ability to transform John's asshole into a wide O perfect for Randy to fuck raw with his large cock. It was a flat, plastic device with a large hole cut into the front, two prongs on the back, and a tiny crank on the front. When inserted and cranked, the prongs separated to spread the ass wide open. Once secured it was pretty much immovable until the crank was released and the prongs moved back into position. There was a strap attached, a kind of belt around the victim's waist to make the cruel spreader even tighter. It resembled a torture device used during the Dark Ages.
John let out a small, pitiful sound, a mixture between a sob and a moan. Time seemed to stand still for him as he tried to prepare for the horror to come.
You are my everything, Daddy. I love you.
(Part 3 coming soon.)