Chapter Three-Hundred and Thirty-One
John turned his in-ear pack off, letting the earpiece hang over his shoulder as he stepped toward the backstage bathroom. He needed to be alone for a while, and even though there were plenty of people around, they were all busy with other projects though. He knelt in front of the nearest toilet, his stomach twisting in the all too familiar pre-vomit sick. He swallowed, attempting to force the puke back before something grabbed the back of his shirt. He screamed; his sick spell already having been forgotten.
A harsh hand clamped over his mouth, cutting off the scream. "You're mine now." Ben's voice hissed, his hand snaking around John's waist before his fingers slipped into the band of his jeans. "Sweet cheeks."
John bit his palm, blowing a shrill, high pitched whistle before electricity surged through his body, forcing his muscles to seize and his heart to pump in an odd rhythm. His vision blurred in and out, darkening at the edges until he was left in the dark.
Ben grinned as John's body went limp, gently brushing his hair back from the nape of his neck before he pressed his lips against the boy's skin. "That's my little toy…" He sneered, lifting John from the floor before they slipped out the back.
John groaned as he began to come too. His body ached, and the room felt too hot. He could feel sweat soaking into his t-shirt, causing the fabric to stick to his skin. He gasped for breath as he realized that his hands were bound behind his back, his legs tied to the legs of a chair with his knees tethered so that he couldn't protect himself from being touched.
"Well, finally started to wake up?"
John's head snapped up, fear flooding into his blood when he saw that Ben was holding a riding crop and a tube of lubricant. "No…" He breathed, praying that his eyes wouldn't show his terror.
"Stop that!" Ben ordered, smacking the riding crop against John's jeans where his manhood was hidden beneath the zipper. "It's not natural how your eyes do that shit."
"I can't help it, Dick-wad!" He snapped, yelping when Ben's hand flew between his legs and gripped his testicles with an iron fist. "No!" He struggled against his ropes, trying to fight Ben off with no success. He forced his tears back as he felt Ben drag the leather of the crop against his throat, his breath hitching as he fingered the zipper. "Please…" He begged, remembering how Buzzard had found weakness and submission pleasing.
"Please what?" Ben whispered, his lips brushing against John's ear. "Do you want me to do this to your girl? Maybe I'll let you watch."
John turned his head, snapping his jaw mere inches from Ben's face. "Fuck you!" John snapped, his eyes going black.
Ben sneered, pulling a leather muzzle from behind John's chair and clamping it over his mouth and nose. "How about I fuck you?" He touched the back of John's neck, gently rubbing a warm cream on his skin. "Or should I have a little fun first?"
John's body stiffened, recognizing the feeling of Icy-Hot from the times Clarissa had used it on his sore muscles. No! He thought, panic rising in his chest.