A few weeks had passed since Murdoc's lesson to 2D, and the younger man not only seemed far more quiet than usual, but actively appeared to to be doing all he could to avoid him, at all cost. Not that Murdoc had noticed. He had all but forgotten most of the details of the incident, and has gone back to being his usual venomous self. In his own mind nothing in particular had changed, so he didn't see the need to go on thinking about it. Although he had used some of the remaining imagery to fantasize with, as he masturbated in the mornings. Lost in a drunken blur as some of it might have been, there was still just enough left to keep him happy.
Recent events were far more important to him than 2D's feelings anyway. The bassist has focused a much larger portion of his time and anger, towards the recent documentary that his so called 'minders' had, had made. Raving endlessly about all the ungrateful people involved, saving a great heaping of that for the film itself at times, while making sure to explain to his fans what a 'load of crap' he'd found it to be. He'd even gone so far as to abduct the films 'Facebook' page, and pour out some of his venom there. Not completely satisfied with that, he'd also started an online petition to have the film banned, burned and all consequent participants flogged naked through the streets. At least that's what he wanted, but not wanting to go too far down the road of physical threat and give Ceri ammunition for a lawsuit, he just satisfied himself with a simple 'I'm going to request the BFI destroy any and all things you have produced in your short insignificant career.' Or words to that effect. Once again the bassist found himself shouting and ranting to Russel about how this film, Damon and Jamie, had robbed him of his dignity. And why the band really should 'get in there and do something about it.'
"And as for that bastard Jamie 'I'm such an amazin' drawer' Hewlett? The next time I see his stupid face, look out!" he spits, making a threatening gesture with his fist. He turns his eyes to Russel, sitting quietly in the corner of the studio room, far more interested in eating his burger to hear Murdoc's latest rant. The large man takes another bite and reaches for the drink sitting next to him on the table. It suddenly occurs to him that the room had gone very quiet, so he looks up and over at the fuming green man.
"Mmmm?" he mumbles with his mouth still full of food. Murdoc clicks his tongue and drops his weight heavily onto one hip in frustration, as Russel takes a large gulp of his drink and continues chewing. Not able to recall exactly what the bassist had said, he swallows and decides to just shrug it off. "Oh, righ'. Yeah man. Wha'eva yo said?" he adds, taking another mouthful of drink. Murdoc huffs loudly and mutters something inaudible to himself.
"You weren't even listening to me, were you? This involves you to, you fat idiot." the old man eventually hisses dryly. Russel furrows his brow and places his drink back on the table. Choosing to ignore the insult, and just point out why he hadn't bothered to listen.
"Maaaan. I don' haffta lis'en no mo'. Yo ass bin sayin' dah same thang, fo' 'bout a week now. It's all 'dis S.O.B, an' dat S.O.B.' It's just bull, ya dig? I's beginnin'a thin' dere ain' no one 'live dat yo ain' had summin'a say 'bout. Kay man, I gets it. Yo hate ev'one. OK?" Russel finally snarls, rolling his eyes. Murdoc grimaces and looks away, but still can't stop feeling angry about no one seeing the importance, of what it was he had been saying. Even Russel seemed to of reduced it all to another 'I hate you all' speech, and had just stopped listening. He rolls his eyes back at the large man, and tries one more time to get the message across.
"Listen, you fat headed moron. I'm not just annoyed because I hate them!" he screeches, flailing his arms over his head, and pacing up and down the room in frustration. "Don't you understand? Have the fat cells finally reached your brain and strangled it? Those bastards think I'm just another cartoon! Some useless little doodle, on a scrap bit of paper, that they can screw up and chuck out when it suits them! They don't see how amazin' and significant I am, to this whole damned industry. I gave them glory. ME! They'd still be sat on that lounge, stoned out of their minds and laughin' at each others farts, if it wasn't for me. I made them famous. And how do they repay my generosity?" Murdoc stops pacing and marches up to Russel directly, leaning over the large man like an adult lecturing a child, he begins counting things off on his fingers. "Well, by fergettin' that snippet of information for one. Gettin' that idiot Ceri to make that ridiculous documentary, for another. Not to mention pissin' off with my glory. And finally. Finally. To top it all off. Make me look like nothin' more than an insignificant glitch, in their otherwise geeeeeeenius plan! That's how they repay me! I've seen that idiotic piece of filth film. Two blind monkeys in a bag with a camcorder, could of done better. In fact, I reckon that's exactly how it was made. It's rubbish. Lies, all of it. Not one thing about it was worth me even botherin' to sit down." He pauses again and looks at Russel, rooting around in his paper bag for another hamburger. Murdoc completely looses his temper and snatches the bag from the startled drummer, screaming into his face.
"You're still not listenin' to me!"
Russel struggles not to loose his temper himself, knowing it was a complete waste of time even attempting to reason with the now puffing and panting bassist. Not when he was in this kind of mood. So he takes a deep breath, and calms himself down.
"Yo said sumin' like dat yes'erday." he quietly responds, picking up his drink again and taking another sip. He watches Murdoc carefully over the rim of the cup, hoping the old man doesn't make the mistake of physically attacking him. Murdoc flexes his fingers on the bag of food, while his left eye begins twitching violently. He twist his body round and throws the bag with all his might, at the wall close to Russels ear. The drummer flinches ever-so slightly, but remains calm and doesn't move.
"Aaaaaaaand?" Murdoc drawls, still waiting for the drummer to see his point and join him in attacking those that threatened to derail him, and his plans for global domination. Russel can clearly see that continuing to sit there and allow Murdoc to rave, was just winding the bassist tighter and tighter. Nothing was going to calm him, and it was just making things worse. Wishing he had of stayed on holiday and avoided coming back to all this, was just making his head hurt. He looks down at the floor, shaking his large bald head. Murdoc seemed to of got more hostile and volatile than ever, in the time he'd been away. And as for 2D? Well, who could tell with the vacant minded younger man?
"Why is yo ass 'spectin' an answer? I know yah don' really wan' one. Yah jus' wan' someone'a argue wit', man. I ain' even gunna bodder goin' dere. Yo wanna keep screamin' 'bout dem two crackers? Fine. Yo ass can do dat. As fo' me, I'm goin' out fo' sum chicken. A'ight?" he calmly answers, standing up and pushing past the now frozen bassist, making his way from the studio room. Murdoc tenses every muscle in his body, puffing and hissing like an old steam train, as he slowly pulls himself up to full height, balling his hands into tight fists. He follows the large mans exit with his eyes, trying to make sense of why the American just couldn't see what Murdoc considered to be obvious.
"Chicken?" he finally manages to splutter. "We are in a major crisis here. And your answer to it is chicken?! Fine! Fuck off and eat chicken then! Who needs you?!" he roars, storming across to the door and slamming it shut. Russel flinches at the sound, raising his shoulders to his ears. Slowly he turns his head and looks back through the studio kitchen, to the door the old man had just slammed. But he knew the situation was far beyond anything reasonable. Murdoc had obviously left the simple angry and frustrated zone he usually seemed to be in, and had now moved directly into insane, murderous rage. Nothing was going to drag him back from there. The red wall had come down across the bassist eyes, and had stayed there. He sighs and decides to just leave him alone to hopefully cool off. Turning back to the corridor, he lumbers down it, shaking his heavy head.
A few minutes later, 2D wanders into the studio and sees Murdoc slumped in a chair by the mixing board. It's not until the keyboardist shuts the door behind him, and sees the cold fury in the bassist eyes, that he realizes he's made a mistake. Murdoc grinds his teeth at the sight of the younger man, and grips the plastic arms of the chair so tightly, 2D can hear them strain under the pressure. He looks quickly back at the door he'd just closed, and considers leaving.
"What!?" Murdoc suddenly snaps, startling the keyboardist and making him flinch back into the door.
"Um? Nufink Muds. I....? Err? I um? J,j,just...?" the young man stutters in response, swallowing hard as nervous sweat builds on his brow, making him feel incredibly and uncomfortably warm. He scratches at his arm and can't help but stare into the sparkling rage in the old mans eyes. Caught in a fixed gaze, like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. The whole reason he'd stepped into the room, had been because he'd got bored being by himself, and had sought Murdoc out for company. Clearly Murdoc was not in the mood, and now the younger man had no idea why the bassist was angry, and what he could possibly, if anything, do about it.
'Maybe it's coz I ignored him? If I say I don't wanna be here wif him now, that might make him angrier?' he thinks to himself, searching his mind for a good answer. He tries to smile and soften the mood that way. But only manages an awkward grimace, which seems to infuriate the bassist even further.
"Are you constipated or summink? Just what?!" Murdoc growls, clenching his teeth and jaw even harder. 2D gulps loudly, trying to swallow the ball of fear that is slowly rising from the pit of his bowel and into his throat. He wrings his hands and finally manages to snatch his gaze from the old mans eyes, and look down at the floor.
"No, I was..." he stops and decides to just apologize to the old man instead. "I'm sorry I ignored yah boss. I woz finkin' about stuff, and fought yah wouldn' be in'trested." he sighs with a shrug, closing his eyes and waiting for the beating he was expecting, to begin.
"You? Thinkin'? Ha! Wait....? You were ignorin' me? I hadn't noticed. But I know you must have some other reason fer gracin' me with your presence. Unwanted as it may be. So enlighten me with your boundless wisdom 2D. What were you thinkin'? Hmmmm?" he mocks with a sneering smile, shifting his weight forwards on the chair, resting his weight on his knees with his forearms, and clasping his hands together tightly. 2D reaches for the door handle behind him, and goes to open the door.
"Nah, it's OK. I know yah don't wanna hear it." the young man mutters back. Murdoc quickly gets to his feet, and seems to cross the room in an instant. Slamming one hand hard against the door, while grabbing 2D by the collar of his shirt with the other.
"I saaaaaid, enlighten me. 2D!" the old man snarls through tightly clenched teeth, steering the keyboardist away from the door and backing him up to the chair he'd just been sitting in. 2D looks back over his shoulder, and down at the chair, just as Murdoc shoves him into it. The hairs on the backs of his arms and neck rise, prickling his skin and making it itch. He rubs them to calm the sensation, while Murdoc towers over him like a hungry vulture. This makes the keyboardist even more nervous about opening his mouth and saying the wrong thing, so he sucks his lips back over his teeth, closing his mouth tightly. He didn't have to be a genius to know Murdoc was doing this on purpose. There was no possible way he could win at this point, the old man just wouldn't allow it. Even if somehow 2D happened to say the most profound and poignant thing, the human race would ever hear, Murdoc would still see it as a reason to beat him up. So why try? Slumping his shoulders, the young man drops his chin to his chest and gives up.
"I can't Muds." he mumbles softly.
"Can't what!?" Murdoc snaps sharply, leaning further down over the defeated younger man.
"Um? I can't Muds... Sir?" 2D shrugs, looking back up at him sheepishly. A pained expression crosses the old mans face, and he presses a finger to the bridge of his crumpled nose.
"Lovely. But I meant 'can't what', as in what can't you do? You idiotic little fuckwit." Murdoc grimaces as if suddenly stuck by a pounding headache. 2D smiles and chuckles nervously, nodding.
"Ohhh. Well, I can't talk tah yah when yah this angry, coz yah scare me an' that. Yah just gunna hit me. I can tell." he answers, pulling further away from him in the chair. Murdoc stares blankly ahead without expression for a moment, almost looking as though he himself had just zoned out, before blinking and looking back down at the cowering younger man.
"Mmmmm. Yeah, probably. So how are you going to stop me then?" Murdoc smiles evilly, deciding to play with the keyboardist, like a cat would a caught mouse. 2D slowly scans the room for an idea. 'A weapon maybe?' Until his eyes eventually fall on the growing bulge in Murdocs pants. He gazes at it thoughtfully for a moment, thinking. He'd always known the bassist got sexual gratification from hurting people, and judging from the size of the bulge before him, Murdoc seemed quite close to release. An odd thought slaps 2D squarely between the eyes, and before either man knew what was happening, the keyboardist had unzipped the old mans trousers and was massaging the painfully swollen member. Murdoc leaps back in absolute shock, his eyes wide and hands held before him in defense. He blinks at the younger man, who blinks back at him, equally shocked by what he'd just done.
"I'm sorry. I panicked." 2D squeaks, curling up in a tight ball all the chair, and covering his head with his arms for protection. Murdoc slowly relaxes and with his mind still fogged with shock, steps forwards and gently pats one of the young mans arms.
"No. That's err? Fine." he croaks weakly. 2D looks back at him through a gap in his arms, slowly uncurling from his tight ball. Although he's surprised at the old mans weak reaction, he's more grateful that he isn't being pulverized right now. Now once again straight in the chair, he looks up at the frozen old man and wonders if he should just keep going. Murdoc didn't seem to be interested in walking away, but then he didn't seem to be encouraging anything either. He was just standing there in front of him, staring blankly at the wall behind the perplexed younger man. He taps a finger to his bottom lip and shrugs. 'If I move tah get away, I'll get punished? Sit here and do nufink? Punished. If Murdoc don't want it? Punished. If he does? He'll blame me for makin' him gay. I'm still gunna get punished! Lose, lose, lose.' he thinks with a soft anxious sigh. He makes a decision and grabs the old mans hips tightly, pulling him closer and taking the still throbbing penis into his mouth, sharply and forcibly sucking it deep into his throat.
Murdoc snaps to from his dazed shock and gasps in delight, as his vision sparkles brightly. Rolling his eyes back into his head, so only the whites can be seen, he feels the loss of sensation in his legs and they nearly buckle under him. He grabs 2D by the shoulders tightly, and leans on him for support. Tingles ripple in consecutive waves, up the insides of his thighs and deep into his scrotum, and he knows he's seconds from ejaculation. Not wanting to just yet, he clears his throat and breathlessly asks the younger man to 'stop for a second' and let him recover. 2D pulls his face away, letting Murdoc's stiff member slip slowly between his lips, before falling free. He looks at it steadily pumping before him, glistening with his saliva, before he turns his head away from it and staring at the studio room door. A large part of him wants to get up and run through it and away. But he knows it's far too late for that now. He listens to Murdoc sucking sharp breaths between his shark-like teeth, as the old man struggles to regain control of his rock hard member. 'He liked that way too much. He won't lemme run away now.' He furrows his brow and winces, as the bassist digs his talons deep into the flesh in 2D's shoulder. Looking back up at the struggling bassist, he hopes that the old man will loose control and cum now. Just so he wouldn't have to keep going. 'Why woz me answer to his question this? A blow job? Why a blow job? Why not, hop on one leg while jugglin' oranges? Least I would'a liked that. I didn't even know I woz gay? I'm sure I ain'? Oh well, least he ain' hittin' me..... Yet' He suddenly notices the sick feeling in his stomach and swallows hard, closing his eye holes, and pushing the feeling down as far as he can. 'Nah. I can't stop now. He'll kill me.'
Feeling better, Murdoc taps the young man on the shoulder and holds his breath expectantly. 2D turns his head back to the waiting member and much more gently this time, takes it back between his lips. Pulling Murdoc's hips forwards again, he sucks it back into his throat, and rhythmically starts pumping it in and out of his mouth. He hears Murdoc moan loudly above him, and feels the old mans talons dig even deeper into his shoulders. Wincing painfully again, he builds the rhythm faster, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible. He thinks about the things he liked girls to do to him, and decides to try some of them out on the old man. 'Maybe he'll get so excited he'll explode ,and I can go brush me teef and get this 'orrible taste out me mouf. Blergh.' Murdoc half closes his eyes and drops his head back on his shoulders, oblivious to everything but the feeling of his rock hard cock pounding into 2D's mouth. An image of him pumping himself into the younger mans tight rectum sparkles in his mind and he relaxes his shoulders a little. Swaying back and forth with the rhythm, a shock of pleasure ripples over him and he lazily drops his head forwards again, to look down at the top of 2D's blue head. For some reason, he couldn't work out the keyboardists reaction himself. Much too excited to think of anything now, but the feeling of that hot tongue sliding up and down his member. He shudders a little and flexes his fingers on the keyboardists shoulders. The momentum speeds up a bit too much, making Murdoc wince with intense pleasure, knowing that at this speed he'd cum far too quickly, he digs into the younger mans flesh and hisses for him to slow down. 2D obeys, but suddenly digs the tip of his tongue, hard into the underside of the old mans cock. Running it up and down the intensely hardening member, making it almost as hard to not explode, as the increased speed had. But this felt so good, he didn't want it to stop just yet, and dropping his head back on his shoulders, he moans loudly and presses himself deeper into the keyboardists mouth. 2D gags a little and pulls away, stopping also the action he'd been doing with his tongue, Murdoc drops his head forwards again, with a disappointed groan, and lets 2D relax again. Building the suction with every thrust in and releasing it again as it slides back out, he tries to remember some of the other things girls had done to him, as he feels Murdoc gently massaging the back of his neck with one hand. Something occurs to him, and the young man pulls his mouth away, letting the swollen member stand prominently out before him. Red and fully engorged with blood, the veins pumping and the head a deep, shining deep purple, he tries to keep his mind from panicking at how this all will end, and slides his tongue along the underside of that hard purple helmet. Taking the small flap of skin that connects the foreskin to it, he gently pinches it between his tongue and top lip, pulling at it harder and harder. This sends a convulse of pleasure through the old man, and for a split second, 2D is convinced he's about to cum all over his face. Somehow, the old man doesn't, so 2D quickly sucks the member back into his mouth and tries to think of something else.
"Oh ffffffuck....." Murdoc hisses sharply, sucking another breath. "That's gooood." he moans, dropping his chin to his chest and watching himself being sucked hard. He leans his body back for a better view of his cock sliding into the young mans mouth. Proud of how hard and powerful it looked to him. "Mmmmmm, yeaaaaah. Take it right in there." he moans with a soft growl, pressing his hand against the back of 2D's head and once again pushing himself deeper into his throat. "Right down there." Once again the keyboardist gags, and tries to pull away again. But this time Murdoc doesn't let him. He wants to feel the end of his cock pound into the back of his throat. To cum as deep as possible in him and have him completely submit. Swallowing everything he's about to unleash. Drowning him in his seed and knowing the young man was his, and his alone.
"Don't fight me you bitch!" He snarls viciously, thrusting his hips forwards sharply to emphasize his complete dominance over the young man. 2D snatches his head away, gagging violently and almost retches. Murdoc grips the young mans blue hair hard and warns him not to dare throw up. "You fuckin' take it you hear. All the way." 2D nods obediently and clears his throat, taking Murdoc back into his mouth and giving over control. Letting the bassist grab the back of his head and simply start fucking his mouth deeply. One powerful stroke after another, deep into the keyboardists tonsils, slapping the back of his throat, over and over again. 'It'll all be ova soon. I can feel it. Just let him 'ave wot he wants, and don' even fink about it.' 2D thinks quietly. Zoning out, he feels the hard pounding cock stiffen more and more, as it draws closer to release. Murdoc drops his head back and roars loudly as the ejaculate explodes out of him, and deep into the young man. The milky fluid pumping harder than it ever had before. Over and over again his cock convulses, each spasm more painful than the last, tearing through him and making his legs feel like jelly. Slowly the pounding in his cock stops, and the old man stumbles backwards into the mixing board behind him, his vision a sparkling blur. He slumps against the desk with a contented sigh, as his member slowly relaxes with a few remaining dull pulses. He closes his eyes and relishes the last few moments, as 2D grimaces at the taste of the old man in his mouth, swallowing and wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.
"Woz that OK, Mus?" the young man asks, trying not to look disgusted at the harsh, salty taste of the old man. Murdoc nods slowly, weakened by his ordeal and not at all interested in whether 2D liked the taste of his cum or not. He owned the keyboardist completely now. Through and through. That was all that mattered, and all he cared to think about at this second. He waves him off and slowly turns away, resting his full weight on the board, as he waits for the sensation to return to his legs. 2D takes the chance to leave and walks rapidly from the room, either to throw up, or get a drink and wash the foul taste away. Depending on which came first.
Later that evening, Murdoc joins 2D on the balcony, looking amazingly calm and relaxed. The young man stares at him for a moment, surprised at how different he seemed to look. His eyes were shining and his whole demeanor somehow seemed more alive and bright. Usually Murdoc seemed to have a heavy cloud of demonic fury over him. A darkness that seemed to ooze out of every pore of his skin and strangle you with it's very presence. 'Pod people.' 2D thinks, looking back over the horizon and watching the colours change, listening to Murdoc lighting a cigarette beside him.
"You do know that if you ever tell anyone what you did, I'll kill you? And I don't mean beat you up. I mean kill you as in dead. Coroner, coffin, grave stone, dead. Right?" Murdoc suddenly says in such a quiet, calm and cold matter-of-fact tone, that 2D shudders with an equally deathly cold chill. He stands straight to attention and turns his head to face the bassist, nodding rapidly and perfectly understanding that the old man most certainly wasn't joking. 'He really meant that. Every word.' 2D thinks, as he sees Murdocs eyes move to look at him. The old man blows thoughtfully on the lit end of his cigarette and smiles devilishly.
"Just so long as you and I are clear on that point, D." the old man places the cigarette back between his shark-like teeth and thrusts his hands deeply into his trouser pockets. Turning sharply on his heel, he walks almost with a skip in his step, back into the kitchen. Leaving 2D alone on the balcony, to ponder the position he now found himself in.