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Tommy didn’t picture his Friday evening like this. Being tied up in a mostly empty basement, save for two chairs and a small wooden table. With a complete stranger in a ghost face mask sitting across the table from him. The worst part, he was naked.
The blonde was slowly slipping back into consciousness. At first it was heavy rain tapping outside of the basement window. Then his sight fuzzy but his nose was keenly aware of the smell of the room— one of warm copper and damp air. “Mhmm Mr. Simons, glad to see you are finally joining us in the land of the living.” A strangely familiar voice echos, bouncing the empty concrete walls of the basement.
“Wha- where? Why am i-” Tommy starts but is quickly interrupted by a “Nuh uh uh!” The stranger replies in a singsongy tone, yet he wastes no time as he quickly continues. “I will be the one conducting this intervention.” At this, Tommy jumps into a slightly more lucid state. “W- wait what the fuck? Intervention? For what?” He doesn’t even drink that much because it interferes with his antidepressants, what would he need intervening in? Especially by a stranger, concealing his identity behind a stupid ghost face mask.
“We’ll get to that Mr. Simons, now please kindly-“ A veiny hand peaks out from under the table, a hand that grips a matte black handle in contrast to the connecting shiny blade, a knife. A large knife that was previously hidden under the table, it retreats as quickly as it came. “-shut the fuck up.” Tommy, who is still fluctuating between consciousness and sleep, listens.
What choice does he have? He realizes quickly the man has drugged him and has him right where he wants him. Under his thumb, free to do whatever he wants to him. He’s just thankful that all he wants to do is ask him questions, for now that is. Never get your hopes up Tommy, it can always get worse.
The strange man tilts his head in a way that makes the fabric around the mask flop to his shoulders, exposing his pale collarbone. The man chuckles, a sound that shouldn’t warm Tommy’s chest like it does. “Good boy.” The name burns in his stomach like a cigarette on his forearm, he’s familiar with the sensation, from the quiet sensation of memory strumming beneath his skin.
The memory of skin slapping over and over. Ash falls from the end of the fag above and singes the fag below. After white paints his gut the fire at the end of it is extinguished on his young supple skin. That cherished memory clouds his mind in heat during this precarious predicament. He really shouldn’t be getting turned on right now, but he cannot help the coil beginning to wind in his core.
Brought back into the moment, the man across from him now presses. “Now Mr. Simons, does the name Will gold ring a bell to you?” It does more than ring a bell, it sets alarms off in Tommy’s head, alarms that are telling Tommy he needs to get the fuck out of here.
He pulls desperately at his restraints, rocking the chair back and forth so hard he almost falls to the ground. For just a second he can almost feel the incoming pain in his naked back. That is until desperate attempt proves to be fruitless as the man before him steps on his feet under the table and strong hands grab hold of his shoulders, keeping him grounded, trapped, imprisoned.
It should not send a spark running straight to through Tommy’s back and into his dick, but it does. Of course it does. He can’t just be kidnapped, his brain has to turn it into some fucked up fantasy.
“I’ll ask you again and you will answer this time, what does the name Will Gold mean to you?” A hand snakes up his neck, ready to choke him for any and all disobedience.
“He-“
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“Im so happy we could plan this for tonight, happy one year Toms!” Wilbur says with a smile, lips meet the rim of a wine glass and take a sip.
“I still can’t believe we got together on Halloween, good thing my parents bought the whole “You taking me trick or treating” thing” Tommy jokes, a giggle escaping his lips. He continues swishing the wine in his glass around, Tommy doesn’t particularly like wine and he can’t really drink mass amounts anymore for medical reasons but it makes him feel so adult to have a glass of wine in his hands.
The sound of a notification rings trough the air, Wilbur pauses and looks at his phone. “Shit, the kids broke the candy bowl.” Wilbur turns the phone over to reveal the camera outside. “Shit, do you have an extra?” Tommy asks just before taking a sip from his glass, it’s a bit chalky. Huh? Weird but who is he to say? He’s never had this type of wine before.
“No Tommy ugh. It’s not even about the bowl, it’s about the candy. I don’t have anymore than what was in that bowl and the kids in this neighborhood are vicious.” That only meant one thing, they would have to leave to get candy. Or as Tommy was about to find out, only Wilbur would be leaving. He insisted on Tommy staying to make sure the kids didn’t throw eggs at Wilbur’s townhouse.
He decided to make some popcorn while Wilbur takes a quick drive over to their local convenience store and prays they still have bags of candy. The popcorn popping was the only sound until Wilbur’s landline phone started ringing. When did Wilbur get a landline? Now see Tommy wasn’t in the habit of answering phones that weren’t his so he let it go unanswered.
That is until it rang again and again, thinking the person calling must be calling about an emergency Tommy might be able to help with, he finally picked up the phone to cease the ringing.
“Hello?” Tommy asked with curiosity lacing his tone.
“Hello.” The voice on the other end sounds deafening, almost too low. Familiar though.
“Yes?” Tommy asks the mysterious caller, his voice cracking slightly, anxiety rides down his back like a wave. Who would be calling Wilbur at this hour? And especially on Halloween?
“Who is this?” The mysterious voice replies back with confusion.
“Definitely not who you were trying to reach haha. Want me to pass on a message for when he gets back?” Tommy replies a bit more sure, but what comes next sends him for a loop.
“That’s not it, i just wanna chat.” What. This confuses the hell out of Tommy and he doesn’t even know who the hell this is, so he asks once again.
“Who is this?” His voice comes out meek when he meant to sound insistent, no answer comes so he hangs up.
He hopes that was the end of it because his head is starting to protest standing upright. Just then the microwave rings out signaling that the popcorn has finished popping. He sighs in relief as he opens the microwave. But once he has the popcorn open— subsequently spilling half of it on himself— the phone rings again.
This lights a match in Tommy’s gut, that spark fights his fading consciousness. He picks up the phone. “What do you want?” Exacerbated, Tommy asks the stranger who he knows is on the other end.
“Just to chat, what’s your favorite scary movie?” The man insists on acting like he isn’t being seriously annoying.
“Ugh fine you know what, I’ll humor you. It’s scream, i was actually supposed to watch it with my friend before some awful kids destroyed the candy bowl.” Tommy vents to the man, feeling like the night is all but ruined.
“That really sucks man, i hope your boyfriend comes back soon” the man on the other end replies sympathetically.
“Yeah i just hope those kids didn’t ruin our ana-“ That’s when it hits him. “Wait I didn’t say he was my boyfriend.”
The man chuckles over the phone. “It’s your first anniversary right?” It was.
It was the day they got together last Halloween after Tommy snuck away to visit Wilbur during his stream with the cricket crew. They played it off as Tommy just being Tommy when he came back covered in dirt and leaves. The fans thought he was doing some arg thing for Wilbur. The reality was him face down in the dirt with a man eight years his senior pounding into his ass from behind. That’s how they got together, but how the fuck did this guy know that when the rest of the world didn’t?
“How the fuck did you know that?” Tommy stares at the bowl of popcorn like it personally offended him, probably because his vision is going fuzzy.
“Why do you think you feel this why? Like you're about to pass out?”
“Who are you?! Wha- di- d you.. do…” his hand slips off the ceramic as it hits the ground with an audible shattering sound.
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“He’s my… boyfriend.”
“The one you got with when you were still a kid?” The man’s chair hit the ground with a thud, large hands grab the table and slide it to the side, noisily scraping against the floor. There was now nothing between them, all that was left in front of Tommy was the man towering over him.
“The one you fucked in your best friend’s garden last Halloween?” The man’s foot stomped on the chair, in between his thighs, a little too close to his dick for comfort.
The little guy was standing up all on his own, tip red and leaking delicious precum. A finger swiped at the sticky liquid and pushed in Tommy’s face. “Lick, whore.”
Tommy did as he was told, licking and sucking the finger. More fingers kept invading his mouth and he took them in stride. His hips unconsciously started humping the strangers calf, wetting the skin with Tommy’s little leaking cock.
Ouch, why does it feel like Tommy just got bit by a mosquito? The boy looks down to his arm and gasps. There is a needle sticking straight out of his arm, he’s been injected with something. He doesn’t know what’s just been injected into his bloodstream but one thing he does know is that spit slicked fingers are going inside of him, three at once.
The stretch is painful and delectable. No part of his mind is concerned with the fact that his precious boyfriend is probably looking for him, all of his brainpower is focused on not cumming right now.
He’s always had this fantasy about a perfect stranger fucking him like a cock sleeve, and what do you know? The warm tip of a dick is at his pulsating hole and he can feel the eyes on him through the mask. “Please… stop.. I have a boyfr-“ he’s cut off by a moan when the tip breaches his rim.
The familiar burn of the stretch aches in his lower half. “Shut your mouth and take it, slut.” Moans echo through the room, bouncing on the walls.
“Mhmm, master please…” Tommy practically sighed the words, not knowing exactly what he was begging for.
That nickname brought a grin and a sly tone to the man in the ghost face mask. He giggled then replied. “Master? Oh I like that. You’re such a good boy aren’t you Tommy? Gonna be master’s good boy?”
“Yes Master, please… move. I need you. Use me. Please.” Tommy had no idea what he was signing up for, all he knew was that his dick was about two seconds away from cumming untouched.
The man grinned beneath the cheap plastic of the mask. “Such a good boy” And that was all Tommy heard before he felt the ramming of a cock straight into his stomach, his hole was somehow wet and loose enough to swollow the mysterious man’s monster of a cock.
Maybe it was the drugs or maybe it was just Tommy’s body responding to being given its wildest dream, either way you couldn’t find Tommy complaining, only moaning and screaming when the hold on his hips was tightened. It felt heavenly despite everything wrong with this current scenario.
Just then, the man above him tilted his hips upward, switching up the angle. Tommy saw stars, the man’s dick was hitting his sweet spot dead on. His tip was like a hot poker on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
The man began reaching for his belt, grabbing a familiar tool—his knife.
And for some reason, some fucked up dreadfully embarrassing reason, the sight of the blade made him cum. “Oh my-“ muttered from Tommy’s lips was the only warning the man got before white came out in ropes. Sticky liquid comes out vigorously, landing right in the middle of the white mask, on the man’s white shirt, and the last few drops landing on Tommy’s chest.
The man just chuckles, it sounds warmer than it should. “Don’t think that will grant you any mercy, we don’t stop till I say so.” The cold metal tip of a blade lands softly on Tommy’s thigh, sharp enough to make the supple skin start beeding with blood. “Is that clear Tommy? Will you be my good boy and take whatever the fuck I give you?”
Tommy nodded as much as he could while having everything tied up. Chest, hips, neck, and hands behind his back. “Yes master please master, don’t show me mercy. I don’t deserve it. I just want to be your good boy. Use me till you’re satisfied, please.” Tommy pleaded with the man, longing for being treated like the man’s plaything.
“Good boy” The man utters low and horrifyingly hot. The knife presses farther down, making the first of many cuts. Tommy squeals at the pain but much to the protest of his thighs, his hips start moving on the still hard cock inside of him as drops of blood fall from his thighs to his belly.
“You want it that badly? Never thought the woman lover tommyinnit be would be such a fucking cum slut.” The man offers, Tommy swallows the words like a shot. “master… want you to cum… I love the feeling of it.” Tommy mumbles softly, the man could barely hear him. But he did. And that sent blood from the brain below the mask straight to the large cock inside of Tommy. He wished Tommy knew how hot he was right now then immediately retracted that when Tommy mumbled once more.
“The feeling of warm cum inside, oh god… fucking heavenly.”
The knife finally stopped slicing and dropped to the ground and much to Tommy’s dismay, the warm length inside of Tommy abruptly pulled out. “Wha- no please!” Tommy’s reaction quickly shifted from disappointment to arousal when a hand came down on his bleeding thigh, greedily scooping blood from the deep cuts.
Now Tommy had some idea of what was going to happen next, but he just couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the blood covered hand stroking the large cock that was once inside of him. The man was slicking himself up with Tommy’s warm fresh blood.
Sufficiently slicked up, the man makes quick work of filling up Tommy’s needing hole. Tommy’s hips make quick work of bouncing on this cock as much as he possibly can while being tied to a chair. That is until large hands apply hard pressure onto Tommy’s hips, forcing him to stop. “Beg for it slut, beg me to move like the dog you are.”
Tommy needs no more convincing than that, so he acts predictably. “Please master, fill me up. I want your cock as deep as it can go. I need you.” Tommy begs, practically pleading with the man fuck him till he can’t walk.
One hand full of large fingers trails up Tommy’s belly to his chest then finally to his neck, the man controlling the hand applies pressure like a professional. The man above him could feel the steady flow of his pulse under the pads of his finger and extinguishing it. Tommy’s vision went blurry with pleasure, distracting him from the intrusion moving in and out.
In that moment, reality for Tommy turned into pure overstimulation that hurt so fucking good. The thought that he was being fucked this good, used this thoroughly with the help of his own blood makes him so incredibly fucking libidinous. It feels like satan himself has come to bless his Halloween. It’s not just the blood, not just the way his mind is going fuzzy, it’s the guilt.
The fact that Wilbur probably called the police and at any moment they could be stumbled upon by his concerned boyfriend made him feel so…
“Master~ gimme more… “ his insides were being pounded like no tomorrow, like he didn’t matter at all, only his master’s orgasm, and god did that make him feel like a dirty little dog. A good boy, a good boy who is just now opening his eyes and looking at his thigh. The large cuts resemble letters, when Tommy’s eyes can finally refocus he realizes that his thigh has the word ‘SLUT’ in big bold letters, bleeding.
That was enough to bring him to the most devastating climax he’s ever experienced. A full body chill rang through him when he painted the arm of the man choking him, a sticky white. The arm retracted and his post nut clarity hits him, he makes only one request. “Ma- master… please let me kiss you.”
The rough continuous pace pauses, the man scoffs. “Now why would I do that?”
“Because I’m your good boy.” Tommy replies timidly, big blue eyes staring with elements of puppy dog lacing the very deliberate look.
“You are being a very good boy, fine.” The man pulls the mask up, revealing a very familiar jawline and pretty pink lips.
“I know you.” Tommy says, amused.
The mask comes back down. “No you don’t!”
“Yes I do! Wilbur is that you?!” Tommy exclaims, wriggling around in his restraints.
The silence almost echoes in defeat. The feelingly permanent smirk was wiped off of Wilbur‘s face in an instant, the mask came off. “Damn it, this was supposed to be a surprise.”
“I- nah mate. You did not just leave during our date, prank call me, drug me, strip me, and tie me up all pretty if you’re just gonna give up once I’ve figured out your little secret.” Tommy grinds his hips hard, circling them in a way he knows will drive Wilbur crazy. “Now that I know who you are, I can call you by your real name, Wilby.”
“Did you just call me Wilby while I’m actively fake raping you?”
“Only because I know you did this for me and my twisted fantasies, now come on Wilby… use me.” Seduction laced his every word, every breath, every look in Wilbur’s direction was screaming fuck me.
So he did. And if Tommy was moaning before, he was screaming now. Staring down at his stomach was a bump that kept appearing and disappearing over and over, it felt like getting his guts fully rearranged by a surgeon gone wild. It wasn’t long before Wilbur’s hips were stuttering and his hole was sufficiently stuffed with thick white.
White comes out in little dribbles, there sigh of relief on Tommy’s lips at the anal plug Wilbur just pulled out of his pocket. Wilbur knows him so well. “Woah that was good, we should do that more often. Maybe next time with more drugs!” He quipped, joking but Wilbur’s reply made him almost jump his bones. “Actually…”
“You’re kidding? There’s more drugs?” Tommy asks excitedly, excited at the idea of more drugs. “Well.. if all went well I was just gonna chloroform you and carry you to my bed.”
Tommy gapes at the man, stars practically shining in his eyes. “All is going well, do it. Please.” Wilbur stares at him in confusion, almost astonished. “Really? Even though you figured it all out?” Wilbur asks as he pulls at the loose rope, helping Tommy out of his restraints. Rope drops to the floor and Tommy practically jumps Wilbur’s bones.
Tommy stares at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” Legs wrap around Wilbur’s slim waist, arms around his neck, a wide excited grin took over forty percent of Tommy’s face. “Wilbur, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
“Actually?” Wilbur gawks, in response Tommy affectionately kisses him. “Yes love, you did great. Thank you for this, I hate being treated like a porcelain doll when I’m a fully grown man.”
“Calm down tiger, you’re only eighteen”
“Barely legal but still legal enough for you” Tommy giggles out the words.
“Shut up child.” Wilbur chastises, then takes the rag soaked with chloroform and forcibly shuts him up. Tommy can almost feel himself getting hard as his vision goes spotty.
Eventually after staring at Tommy’s wrecked body for a good while, Wilbur cleans off and bandages Tommy’s wounds. Something about wet bloody rags and warm bandages feels more romantic than last Valentine’s Day.