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His head hurt, and it was too late to get home at that hour – yet, there he was, stupidly late for his own dinner. He didn't have a bad position at the company and could probably leave work early, but what was the point if nothing was waiting for him at home but his cat? Besides, he saw how his colleagues looked at him the last time he took time off, as if he was taking advantage of a unique and special privilege, when the “time off” was taken… for surgery. So yeah, he preferred to risk a few hours of leisure to avoid judgments about his character, now and in the future.
Viktor had a shitty job. No friends other than Sky. His hobbies consisted of watching chess matches, playing Valorant, reading the same old books on his bookshelf – not going out or meeting new people, not with the medical expenses because the public health plan didn't cover all his needs. If only he could smoke a joint to relax (his lungs screamed for days the last time, never again), have a lot of money to improve his studies (he was paying the last installments for an emergency trip to the hospital closest to his home) or have a boyfriend to make him forget all the pain and worries that weighed him down…
Above all, a boyfriend would be good. No, it didn't even have to be that. Just some interesting man who fulfilled his role masterfully, who wasn't like the men in the bars he went to from time to time and wondered why he had accepted their drinks. Every time, they cared more about themselves (of course he couldn't judge them completely, but was it that hard to give him an orgasm, just one?) or were prejudiced against him (ableism or transphobia, which one would it be this time?). Sometimes, he just wanted to forget about his mind for a while and give himself completely to pleasure, but no one seemed up to the task.
Or, well, he needed more sleep. Eat properly, since he was losing weight again. Exercise, even if it was indoors. But he didn't have the time, money or patience for any of that, so when he got home – an apartment reasonable for the price, with a living room that could fit a couch and a TV without any problems – he just made some coffee, played with the cat and went straight to his computer, without feeding his poor stomach.
All the matches were terrible, no one on his team knew how to calculate the price and need for weapons on their better rounds, and he was sure that in two games there were children playing with him. Or animals. Because there was no way any human could be that bad. He sighed, closed the game and went to a confessions reddit page to distract himself. Sometimes he liked to go through it and see the differences between his desires and those of others, and imagine the other person who matched him, like a game of make-believe.
Maybe it was the coffee that stirred his heart too much, or maybe it was the time of day – if he had to wake up early, why didn’t he just go to bed right away, why did he seem to want to control his free time so much when he got home? – or even the fact that he hadn’t been out with anyone in fifteen months. Not that he was counting. But, well, it was over a year, so he couldn’t help that intrusion of thoughts and the speed with which his fingers posted in the sex confessions community:
u/machin3glorious: I (M, 32), constantly have this fantasy that a man is going to break into my house and fuck me stupidly and forcibly, without any care or importance that I say no.
As bad as it seemed, he didn’t feel the wave of regret and shame when he posted. In fact, many people in the comments were sharing the same sentiment, saying it was a pretty common fetish, even though half of them were porn bots of women offering their bodies because they were looking for a man like that (which didn’t make sense, what part of “forcibly” did they not understand?). Some of the comments were joking about him being a man looking for another man (something extremely stupid, they probably spent all day on the internet and didn't realize that it was full of homosexuals?). The rest of the comments were from men offering to do the job, despite having names and profile pictures that didn't arouse any interest in him. And, obviously, they were on the internet, a red flag to take any action in real life.
His heart only started racing when he saw a message notification. Without much curiosity (it probably was just another bot), he opened it.
u/themagichammer: I can make your wish come true.
A little air came out of his nose. Viktor shook his head, certain that this was an old man who was looking for anonymity, looking for a web affair. He decided to entertain him a little, feeling a bit like an idiot in the process.
YOU: I would love to, but we probably don't even live in the same city.
Before he could pick up his empty coffee cup again, intending to go back to the kitchen and make some hot milk, the stranger replied:
u/themagichammer: Yes, we do. I saw your post history, you recommended a coffee shop near my house, in our city's community.
Viktor ran his hand over his face, remembering the case. Yeah. He should be more careful to hide information better. And stop talking to that person right now.
u/themagichammer: And I don't want to sound like a weirdo, but I looked through your entire history. I liked your choice for a favorite number.
YOU: Don't you think it's a bit cliche? I've been told it's a kind of a stupid choice.
u/themagichammer: No? Pi is my favorite too.
Oh, he shouldn't be replying. He should ignore it and pretend that none of that had happened, that he hadn't confessed something like that. In fact, he wasn't even thinking about the situation anymore, he would never even wish to be forcefully fucked by a complete stranger (it was a lie, he wanted it, but maybe if he repeated it enough times, his brain would be trained to think that he didn't).
u/themagichammer sent you a picture.
Oh God. Viktor shouldn't. Accepting a photo from a stranger was always a bad idea, and he should respect himself as a functioning adult in modern society, a man with a job, an immigrant who had worked hard to get where he was and was smarter than that.
Anyways.
It was impossible to see his face, and the colors were a little too dark to make out the color of his skin. But Viktor assumed it was darker than his own, and the hairs arranged in the happy trail that filled his belly and continued to his groin were dark brown. One hand, broad and strong, held a can of soda next to his other hand, which held a—.
He shouldn't be drooling right now.
The penis followed the dark color of his skin, only in a redder tone, the purplish red gaining prominence at the head, exposed by the lowered foreskin. It was straight, slightly curved to the left, although it was difficult to determine because it was being held by the base. Two veins lined his side, like a Snickers bar, deliciously begging to be licked. His balls were in proportion, Viktor supposed, the hair on them trimmed so that their soft weight was visible against the black upholstery. And, well, Viktor couldn’t help but notice something else, something extremely important: he was as thick as the can he was holding, and a little longer.
Viktor leapt to grab his cane from the table and nearly tripped on his way to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and, a little shakily, took out the can that had been stored there. Same flavor, same brand, same amount of milliliters.
His fingers didn’t close around it. God, he was going to faint.
He quickly returned to the room, his heart still racing, with the can in his hand, and positioned it where his groin ended and confirmed his hypothesis: that man would easily reach his belly button.
Viktor looked at himself in the mirror, at the redness forming on the bare skin of his belly because of the cold contact, shirt two sizes too big raised against his chest, skinny arms and crooked posture, sunken eyes, hair disheveled by the headphones. And everything, despite his racing heart earlier, discouraged him.
As if that would happen.
u/themagichammer: Wouldn't you like to have that in you?
u/themagichammer: What's wrong? Are you taking measures? ;)
YOU: It wouldn't work.
He answered, trying to understand if he was too afraid of the other man – after all, that wasn't at all safe – or if he couldn't believe that he was really being invited to fulfill one of his desires. It seemed like a prank.
u/themagichammer: I'll make it fit, bebé.
YOU: It's not that. You wouldn't want it if you saw me.
u/themagichammer: Hmm, I'm sure I'd like you.
How would he know though?
u/themagichammer: But you can send me a picture for me to look at, if you want, of course.
Viktor wasn't the least bit tempted by that possibility. He opened the soda and took a sip.
u/themagichammer: I suppose not?
YOU: Yeah. Better not.
He decided to switch from the computer to his cell phone, typing furiously with one hand as he headed for bed.
YOU: I'm a trans man. And I'm disabled. And have poor health. Not that I break easily, but it's something that bothers people.
Why was he revealing himself like this?
u/themagichammer: Okay.
The reply came so fast that Viktor froze until the next message appeared.
u/themagichammer: Where do you like to take it?
With his hands against his face in a silent scream, Viktor tried to calm the blush that was growing there.
YOU: Anywhere. It doesn't matter to me.
YOU: But I'm also too skinny. Maybe you don't like it.
u/themagichammer: Ahahah, it'll be easier to move you around then ^ ^
He turned off his cell phone and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, trying to keep his breathing at a normal pace. Shook his head to himself and began to laugh, a dry, quick laugh, judging the thoughts that were popping into his head. That man was making fun of him, they probably didn't even live in the same city. He didn't ask about the specifics of his disability, and he didn't know what his face looked like, it was obvious he wouldn't do that for real.
YOU: Or hold me back. I'm the fighting type. Won't let you do it that easily.
u/themagichammer: Oh, so we have a brat here? I like challenges.
It wouldn't hurt to pretend a little, would it?
YOU: Yes. I bite.
u/themagichammer: I bite back, and believe me, I've been told that the bruise doesn't go away so quickly afterwards.
YOU: Exciting. Have you ever done that before?
u/themagichammer: Biting? Yes. Breaking into someone's house and forcing myself on them? Not really. This would be the first time.
A smile appeared on Viktor's face. Despite the soda and coffee, sleep was overtaking him, and it would be wiser to stop there, brush his teeth and lie down properly. However, out of curiosity, he put a hand between his legs and felt the wetness there, warm and sticky, as comforting as lying on clouds – maybe he shouldn't have reacted so well to a stranger's offer, but there was his soaked hole and his cock, grown and throbbing between his fingers, inviting him to be touched. He should have masturbated an hour ago, when he still had energy and was far from sleep invading him, without forums and readings and conversations with strangers, but it was only after receiving that photo that his body began to truly react to the excitement.
Despite everything, it was fun. And it was time to stop.
YOU: Look, thanks for the chat today, but I have to go.
u/themagichammer: It's late, right? But I hope you enjoy the time alone before bed.
Viktor pulled his hand out of his underwear, smirking at the insinuation.
YOU: Yeah. Sweet dreams to you too. Until next life.
And he turned off the screen again to turn over and close his eyes for a little while, just for a little while, still feeling his wet fingers against the end of the pillow, without having seen the other's answer.
An answer he wouldn't see again, in fact, because he decided he wouldn't open the app again so soon that week, because the make-believe had to end, before he made the wrong decision.
There was no name, no photo, nothing. That stranger would never see him. If he did somewhere in the middle of the streets, he would never know who he was or what his darkest fantasies were.
The seconds turned into minutes, and then into hours, in which Viktor slept without caring about the position of his legs and the forgotten stickiness between them.
He regretted not having followed his sleep routine the day before. Firstly, his stomach had been burning for half the workday, a logical punishment for the acidity of the drinks and the lack of nutrients the day before. Secondly, he hadn't slept enough, and the way he had laid down hadn't been the best, because he could feel every inch of his lower back and every cracking sound it made when he changed position in his chair. But the worst thing, by far, was the lack of preparation the night before, forcing him to choose any ironed shirt in the closet and skip yet another meal in order to get to work on time.
At least he had been given a pudding at lunchtime, which the department secretary and only friend, Miss Young, said had been delivered by the restaurant free of charge. It could very well have been a trap, a poisoned sweet from one of his sworn enemies from his college days, but it was delicious. If he died the next day, at least he wouldn't have to write another damn report.
The day passed without much haste, but also without giving Viktor a moment of contemplation that would allow him to forget the night before: the stranger in the chat, the accumulated desire, even the loneliness. He couldn't hesitate, he had work to do, and it seemed that many of his colleagues didn't function when he stopped.
Another week passed like that, between games, work and short nights. Despite the pain and difficulties of that day followed by the peculiar conversation with the stranger, that had been the only time he didn't dream about anything, completely erasing his mind of worries and anxieties. The rest of the days came in an avalanche, at a pace that he thought for a moment he couldn't handle. He didn't even want to go on Reddit again, choosing to spend his free time watching videos on TikTok of chemical experiments and recipes for desserts that he would never have the right ingredients for at home.
His life went on, slowly and painfully. Without much excitement.
When Viktor got home, he decided to clean up the kitchen a bit before taking a shower. He took advantage of the hot water to give his thigh a light massage to soothe the knots there. Even though the next day was a Saturday, he couldn't stop thinking about his Monday assignments, hoping that if he was useful enough, they would give him a research position in the department. He was getting closer every day, he believed.
He coughed as he dried himself, feeling a little cold, so opted to dress in a full pajama set (that is, completely different old T-shirt and pants, and thick socks that didn't match) instead of the usual T-shirt + underwear. When he looked at himself in the bedroom mirror, he felt strange again. Disconnected. His hair was damp and had more waves than usual, as if he had combed it in opposite directions on purpose. Something about his skin bothered him, the flush from the hot water dissipating and revealing the untouched pallor of an antisocial life. Maybe he should go out with his coworkers more. Maybe getting some sun and meeting Sky's new boyfriend would make him seem more... normal.
He went to the living room and, before making dinner, decided to pet Rio, the lovely white cat with bright blue eyes. She was a very nice cat, but too scared of everything that moved (and didn't move), and Viktor was the only person who could touch her belly without her jumping two meters high in fright. Her favorite spot was in the corner of the sofa, next to the arm, in a corner that sank under her weight. So he reached out, first running his hand over her flat head, and then over her back, with her long, soft fur that would leave tufts if he didn't pay attention to it for too long.
And suddenly, Rio jumped the typical two meters and ran to his room.
Confused by the cat's sudden change, he didn't notice the figure behind him.
The air was knocked out of his lungs as he was grabbed by the waist and bent against the back of the couch, his cane falling in the process. He tried to turn his face to see what was happening, but something held his head in place, obscuring his vision with the fabric of the couch beneath his eyes.
A body, warmer and larger than his, pinned him from behind.
Panic seized him when he realized there was a stranger in his house, his usual smell being replaced by something stronger, not exactly unpleasant, but still more characteristic, a more expensive masculine perfume with a hint of spice (cinnamon, perhaps?). His hands were tied behind his back with a wide cloth, and despite his attempts to open the space between his wrists, he was prevented from doing so by the piece of clothing. A large hand was still holding him against the couch, fingers intertwining in his hair. The stranger against him didn't say anything, despite his heavy breathing.
“I don't have anything of value.” Viktor began, his voice half muffled by the couch. “I-I swear.”
Well, he had his computer, efficiently assembled by himself and with parts that had recently been paid for, and the microwave from the 80s that had more functionality than a modern one, but he wouldn't offer any of that to a stranger. Besides, his brain wasn't working properly enough to think about everything of hidden value that he had in his house. The stranger released his face to cover him with another cloth, this time over his eyes, completely blocking the possibility of Viktor trying to recognize him.
“I don’t have a safe or any money stored there, you can check.”
“I don’t want money.”
The other man’s voice came out muffled, low, but sure, as if he were smiling. Viktor searched in his memory, but didn’t recognize it.
“My organs are a terrible deal. My lungs are screwed up and—.”
“I don’t want them.”
Viktor frowned and tried to kick back with his worse leg, since he had put all his weight on his good leg, but he was pinned in place by those hands – one returning to the hair on the back of his neck and the other holding his hip. Strangely, that hand on his hip not only held him in place, but also carried some of the weight of the rest of his torso.
“What do you want, then?”
Viktor blinked against the blindfold, shivering at the possibility that perhaps this stranger knew about his research and was there to steal it. No, worse: he knew all the company passwords, all the official documents of what happened inside… What if it was a case of espionage? He certainly wasn’t strong enough (or loyal to the company) to not tell their secrets if he was put under torture.
“You’re a pretty little thing, huh?” The man laughed, ignoring his question. “I can’t wait to get inside you.”
The realization hit him like a slap.
One of two things: that was the man from the chat or a random person who read the forum. Even worse, it could be someone in real life who recognized him in the post and decided to do him a “favor”. Which made more sense, because he didn't mention where he lived anywhere. He searched his mind, thinking about all the men he knew... Some certainly fit the description in terms of size, but none in terms of voice or smell. But then, Viktor realized a basic problem about himself: Always so focused on his own business, he rarely paid attention to the people around him.
Shit.
“Relax, I'll take care of you,” the guy continued, and the caress his fingers made from his nape to between the swords on his back gave him a shiver, “you'll even beg for more.”
“Who are you?” he hissed like a skittish cat, rocking against the other's strength “how did you get into my house?”.
The man laughed and kissed him near his ear – a wet, open kiss, warm against his cold skin. Viktor closed his eyes tighter, feeling nauseous.
“Please, leave me alone.”
He tried to kick the man once more, and in response was pressed against the couch with a knee between his legs.
“No”, came out loud and definitive.
His pajamas were thick, but still thin enough to feel the bulges of the other man's clothing and body: the metal on his belt, the volume in one of his pants pockets indicating a cell phone, the heat of belly against his back, and his...
Oh. He was—.
“It's you.” Exasperated, Viktor forced his arms open, even though he knew it would do no good. “From the chat. What do you think you're doing? How did you find me?”
“It's a secret.” The bastard was definitely smiling. “What, isn't that what you wanted?”
“No, of course not! What the hell?”
Viktor answered through gritted teeth, trying to keep calm somehow. He was shaking, almost losing the strength to stand. His hip was starting to hurt.
“That’s weird,” the hand on his hip went to his front and slid easily into his pants, causing him to squeal when it went straight between his legs, playing with his hole, “to be this wet, you must really want this.”
“That’s—” for a moment, his brain stopped working “that’s a perfectly normal biological reaction for when someone is being assaulted so that the traum—Hmph!”.
Two fingers were shoved into his mouth and pressed against his tongue, making him choke.
“I don’t want to hear a coherent speech coming from you until we finish this here.”
Even with him choking, the man didn’t decrease the pressure on his tongue, nor did he remove his other hand from his leg, lightly touching the inside of his thigh.
“Breathe, mi amor.”
Breathe? Viktor wanted to scream, punch, throw that damn couch at that man. How dare he come into his house and do that to him? Blindfold and finger him so easily? Tell him to breathe and call him – Viktor guessed – love when Viktor was clearly denying the abuse? He took a deep, shaky breath with some desperation, trying to work his mind to think of a plan to get out of there and call the police immediately. That guy would have a lot to explain.
“Shhh, it’s no use, I know what you’re thinking.”
The hand against his skin spread across the front of his thigh and he… my God, it took at least half of it, squeezed it, making Viktor shiver harder. Besides, that man was a furnace. It was hard to think against so much heat all of a sudden.
“Good boy, that’s right, breathe.”
Unable to see, he tried to concentrate on the other senses as much as he could, as long as it wasn’t on the other’s semi-hard cock pressing against his lower back. But he tried the rest. He identified something woody in his scent besides the cinnamon aroma, and noticed an accent in his voice disguised by years and years of living in that city, probably someone who was born somewhere else and lived there since he was a child. In addition, he could feel that he spoke with a grin, but that last sentence was said in a more serious, softer way, and if Viktor didn't want to be raped violently, he wanted it even less with generosity and false affection, because being seen like someone who needed pity and care for him was revolting. And his body's own reaction, of saliva sliding down his chin, of wanting to dissociate to the pleasure of the caress on his thigh, of the shiver of breath against his ear, of the firmness of the other's weight against him, was shameful. Disgusting.
“Ah!”.
The stranger removed his hand from his mouth with the bite he gave. Viktor smiled, triumphantly, which soon died when that bitten hand came back against him again, this time holding his neck.
“You really like to fight.”
“I hate it. But you don't give me any other choice.”
The stranger laughed at his answer and stuck two fingers into his cunt at once. Without warning, without care.
Viktor bit his lips so that no reaction escaped him, whether of fear or excitement. He would not give that pleasure to the stranger, would not give in so easily. He had no idea who he was, what if that man took advantage of him and killed him right after? Viktor could not allow it, his entire body was shaking, he could not—.
The fingers curled inside him and pressed against something that made him gasp.
“Very good,” the stranger’s voice was hoarse, full of desire “right there, so good, isn't it?”
“Terrible. Hate it.”
He could hardly believe he managed to speak in such a controlled voice.
The fingers then began to fuck him at an incessant pace, too fast for him to handle. The hand squeezed his neck lightly, but did not insist on blocking the air outlet, being just a decorative act of possession and control over him.
That he would not give in.
“The moment you get distracted, I’ll run after the police and report you, you know that, hmm?” Viktor teased, waiting for the hand to return to his mouth so he could bite him again, with blood this time, and the moment the other retreated he would bend down to pick up the cane, using it to hit his half-hard cock, which would cause him so much pain that he would have no choice but to fall to the ground in agony, giving him the opportunity to ask for help. “Even if you run away, I know how to track someone through the building’s security camera and with your account on—A-ahn!”.
A thumb pressed against his clit and began to move at the same speed as the fingers inside him.
“Stop,” he could hear the sticky sound of the fingers entering and leaving him. “T-Too fast,” his leg began to tremble, feeling like they would really falter at any moment, “t-too much.”
“I don’t understand you, speak more clearly.”
Mocked, but he seemed to understand something in Viktor's pained expression, in the way his shoulders tensed and his spine tilted to the side, and pulled him up higher, removing the contact between the floor and his feet and balancing him on the back of the sofa with the pressure of his own body. Redness spread across Viktor's face, because that position was even worse, it seemed to make him much more vulnerable, and he needed much more strength to breathe with his throat being pressed and his ribs compressed by that brute, making him seem more breathless than normal, as if he were feeling pleasure and not dread of the situation.
“Come on, baby, I know you're still thinking too much, come on, I know you can do it.”
One more kiss near his ear and he felt himself melting even more, embarrassed for being so wet between his legs, for his body allowing the intrusion of fingers in an incessant back and forth with such ease.
“Please,” he managed to say, feeling short of breath, “a-ahn, please.”
“Please what?”
“Stop it. If you stop now, I won’t tell anyone.” A lie, but whatever.
“As if I could. We both know you want this.”
“I don’t want it, I already told you—.”
One thrust in particular made him tremble again, and the fabric began to bother him a little, making his eyes burn, until he realized that it was salty tears running down his cheeks and making his face bitter.
“Please. Stop.”
The other began to kiss his neck – the little that was left due to how much his fingers covered – and an electric sensation began to twist at the bottom of his stomach. Panic arose again, because there was no way, there was no way that this was so good that it would make him tremble even more and bite his own lips until they brought a metallic taste to his mouth.
“That's it, that's right.”
My god, it was humiliating, it was ridiculous. His ears rang with the heat growing in his groin, and even his body disobeyed him for a few seconds, trying to buck up for more, trying to seek more friction against the finger on his cock and more depth in the ones inside him, and he gasped, bit down harder, tore the skin from his lips as the stranger promised him sweet nothings, far away for him to understand.
He came silently, choking on the air in his chest.
“Yes. Good boy.”
The man squeezed his neck, starting to put real pressure on him, and didn’t stop moving his hand, even after Viktor was no longer shaking with pleasure and instead started struggling to get out of his touch.
“I want to see one more. You swallowed your voice, I want to hear it when you come.”
“T-Too much, it’s too much. I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Come on, amor.”
The pressure increased and decreased with the opening and closing of fingers on his neck, loosening just as dark spots appeared in the corners of his vision, and tightening again when he took in enough air. The overstimulation was too much, painful, and Viktor desperately tried to free himself from the touch, shaking so much he thought he would convulse, until his feet, off the ground, buckled with the sudden sensation of something burning deep inside him, deep down, clamoring for a space between his insides, and the hand on his neck released him to hold his chest, massaging circles over his shirt.
The stranger above him was saying something, in a tone of wonder, but he was no longer listening.
Still only half aware of himself, he realized he was breathing desperately, panting with low moans and for a moment he wished his tongue would be pressed again so he could at least avoid giving that satisfaction to his abuser. The fingers didn't stop, slurping on his wetness, circling his cock, squeezing the tip that was getting wetter and wetter – he must have been making a mess now – and he felt the heat threatening his core again, a volcanic river that began to slowly spread through his belly and—.
He moved forward and bit the couch to avoid the moan of the second orgasm.
This time, the stranger stopped immediately, not taking advantage of the aftershocks that moved him. He put Viktor back on the floor, but his legs wobbled and he had to be held by the waist, his body limp as a rag doll.
The hands circled his entire waist…
“Hah. Biting the couch at the last minute just so I wouldn’t hear you? You’re so clever.”
He could feel the other’s smile with a touch of irritation. How he wished he wasn’t blindfolded so he could see his reaction when he smiled back at him, with a defiant look. The man could use his body, of course, but satisfying him by delivering the sound of his moan on a silver platter wasn’t a price Viktor would pay so easily.
The stranger then carried him to the couch, on his back, forcing him to arch his back due to the strange position of his hands, but put a small pillow behind him so that his hands wouldn’t be crushed. There wasn’t much he could do other than regret that the action seemed so easy.
A hand lifted Viktor's shirt, releasing it above his chest, letting the cold air hit his nipples. A few seconds passed without the stranger doing anything, probably regretting all of this because he was now able to analyze Viktor from the front, the rest of his face and body previously covered by fabric. Not that Viktor thought he was an ugly man. He was attractive enough to catch the attention of some guys in particular, but rarely would someone of the stranger's stature take an interest in him, and certainly not enough for a stranger to dox him.
Viktor wanted to take advantage of the opportunity and say that he would have to untie him to take off his shirt, in a possible escape, but another thought was faster and, when he realized it, it was already escaping his lips.
“I told you you wouldn't like it.”
He smiled, receiving silence as an answer. Yeah. It was better this way. That the man would give up, turn around and leave. Viktor would find a way to untie himself.
However, he felt a hand slide from the center of his chest to his groin.
“Don't like it? Viktor, you're perfect.”
He shivered, unsure if it was from the soft touch or from hearing his name from a stranger who made him cum twice in a row against his will.
“How do you know my name?”
“I did my research.”
“Hmm,” he swayed, adjusting his position on the couch, feeling the other’s knee press between his legs again and a hand open his thigh, “and what’s your name?”
“Want to know what name to moan?”
A spit was thrown, but it bounced back and hit the attacker himself. Viktor grunted, and the mysterious man laughed fondly. Damn, too affectionate.
“Nice try.”
“Huh, that's unfair, stay still so I can try again.”
The stranger licked Viktor's cheek, cleaning him of the saliva. Warm.
“I would like that.”
Viktor's mind short-circuited slightly and, as he thought of something to retort, his pants were quickly pulled off. He tried to close his legs, but was stopped by that stupid, dumb, hand again.
“Wow, you’re soaked.”
Heat rose to his ears.
“Shut up. That is a completely biological normal reaction.”
“Okay.”
The stranger traced a path from foot to thigh, stopping to squeeze the protuberances of the bones, gently tug at the body hair, massage the muscles. Oddly, he chose his bad leg, which was further inside the couch, to do this, while the other one spread it wider and wider, letting his foot dangle off of it.
“So beautiful.”
“Praising me won’t get you anywhere.”
“Oh, yes, I forgot. You're a tough man and like it when I’m bad, don’t you?”
Two hands stopped at his waist, grabbed the waistband of the underwear and, in one fluid movement, removed them, the sound of fabric falling away reaching his ears.
“What a mess you made.”
No matter how hard he tried to close his legs, the other man's body kept preventing him, a mass of skin and muscle that knelt near his thighs and held them both against the couch to enjoy his time. He kissed several random places with an open-mouth kiss, sucking on the spots before guiding himself to the other one while massaging the inside of his thighs, and Viktor had to fight not to respond to the stimulus. After a few cycles, when the man's tongue licked his collarbone, his teeth grazed his neck, and two kisses were placed on his face, Viktor realized that there was nothing random in his movements: he was appreciating his moles.
“Romantic.”
“I can be too, whatever you want.”
“What I want,” his voice became firmer and firmer, as if the courage and energy had been transferred by the kisses, “is for you to stop this and untie me.”
“That won’t do. I haven’t even fucked you yet.”
He felt his weight lift off the couch, his presence escaped his touch, and heard the sound of clothes being removed one by one, in a slowness that would allow him to sit in place and move forward, to kick the other or bite him and attack in any way he could. But it was impossible, Viktor was paralyzed.
“You haven’t told me your name yet.”
“After,” the sound of a belt being unbuckled, “this, I promise.”
“You’re so convinced that I’ll like this enough to want to know your name later.”
“And you’re not liking it?”
“No.”
“Still, you came twice.”
There was no way to respond to that. The belt fell to the floor, metal reverberating on the floor.
“Will you let me see you?”
“After.”
“Everything after?”
“You didn’t give me the impression of being impatient.”
“And what impression do I give?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Viktor snorted. More clothes on the floor. Viktor pushed his feet to slide up onto the couch, but was pulled back by his ankle.
“Stop manhandling me.”
Hands circled the sides of his waist, and his head followed suit, though he couldn’t see them. The man’s fingers found where his navel was, and fingers stopped at a point just below it, circling there, contemplating something.
“I wonder…?”
Viktor’s mouth fell open in realization.
“No.” He murmured, almost like a breath.
“Maybe I’ll break you.”
“Then don’t.”
“I told you, Vik,” he placed a kiss below his thumbs and settled his body back between his legs, “you won’t deny me this. Also, what did you tell me before? You don't break easily.”
There were a few moments of movement that Viktor didn't understand, when suddenly a hand grabbed the back of his knee, guiding his dangling leg to the man's shoulder. Naked. Fingers played with his pussy, opening the lips and spreading the stickiness all over it.
And, without any warning, entered him with his cock.
Viktor gasped, writhed, and had to be held in place with a hand pressing on his chest as he felt the intrusion molding him inside, opening him much more than the fingers had done. The fact that he was very wet helped with the intrusion, but even so, he felt every inch entering him, filling and taking all the breath from his lungs. This time, he couldn't hold back a whimper escaping him.
The man stopped inside, massaging the back of his knee. He leaned in and Viktor could feel lips hovering over his, mint invading his nostrils.
“I-Is it all in?”
“No. A third left.”
Despite his shortness of breath, Viktor laughed. Who measured things like this in fractions, besides himself?
“It won’t—it won’t fit.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes.”
The man pushed in a little further, causing Viktor to groan in pain.
“Hey! I just said it hurts.”
“Just like you said it wouldn’t fit. Come on, just a little left.”
“I-it won’t fit, it hurts—.”
His mouth was captured by warm lips, tongue brushing against his lips, demanding that he part them. He thought about biting it, tearing the skin off, when the man withdrew most of his cock, until he pushed it all in at once, further than it had gone before, and Viktor cried out into his mouth, receiving the full tongue against his.
Without thinking much, he reciprocated it. The mint taste was a little stronger, a combination of toothpaste, dental floss and mouthwash. The tongue was rough and thicker than his own, but it fit completely inside his mouth. Luckily, the other hadn't moved yet, letting his cock marinate inside him, and he was able to focus on the kiss instead of the pain tearing through him. He allowed the stranger's tongue to explore the roof of his mouth, the space between teeth and lips, to wriggle against his own tongue in search of pleasure. He let himself melt a little against the other, despite everything, feeling soft and sticky, as if honey were leaking everywhere with that hand that had come up and held his cheek so carefully. When they broke the kiss, he felt a little dizzy from the lack of vision and air.
“See? It fit perfectly.”
His voice was hoarse and full of lust.
“But if you move…”
“It will fit even better.”
And, without hearing any more protests, he withdrew his cock to push it inside him right away, starting with a slow rhythm, where he sought more kisses from Viktor, for more of his taste and his gasping against his lips. Within seconds, the man increased the rhythm, thrusting in a way that no longer allowed Viktor to breathe normally.
“A-Ah!” His eyebrows tightened, and the stranger shivered because his cunt did the same “m-my leg, my leg.”
The man didn't need more than that. He moved away for a moment, circled behind the other knee, moved it without stopping thrusting (and yet, carefully), so that the other leg rested on the same shoulder as the first, and held both ankles with only one hand.
“No! Not like that!” Viktor let out a broken moan, trying to push himself away and being held down by his hips in a way that would definitely bruise – yeah, the man wasn't lying about bruising, although Viktor was glad he didn't decide to bite him then. “Fuck, that's way too deep!”
“Yes, it really is.”
The words came out with a laugh, as if the man was in ecstasy. With his legs closed like that, it seemed even tighter to have him inside Viktor. The sound of the man's balls slapping against his ass filled the air, the force of the thrusts forced him to get used to his size, and the liquid running from inside him, outside him, every corner of his being, made him too soft and pliable; and the hand on his hip went down to his stomach and pressed the bulge forming there – he moaned with the sensation, the man grunted with the sight – the space being obscenely taken by the stranger, molding Viktor to his cock as if he were a toy to be filled.
A completely unknown man. An internet stalker. Who was not wearing protection. Viktor did not know what his face looked like. The individual had broken into his house and was forcibly fucking him, opening him up from the inside at an incessant pace.
Obscene. Dirty. Perverted.
And it was all so, so good.
It was exactly what he wanted.
“You don’t even try to hide it.” The man groaned gravely. “Taking my cock so well, you like that, don’t you? You were made for that. To be fucked open by a complete stranger, huh?”
He spoke provocatively, but Viktor could sense a little too much self-control in his words, as if he was always one thrust away from breaking out of his bad-ass character and hugging Viktor right there.
The preparation. Letting him cum before more than once. The care taken in holding his leg, in placing the pillow on his back, in massaging the sore muscle. But Viktor tried not to think too much about any of it. He smiled and rolled his eyes as he felt the hand now move from his stomach to his cock, circling the sides of it. He let himself melt as much as he could against the other's rhythmic movements, always looking for some different angle in him in particular, even though he filled his cunt completely. He ignored the accelerated sensation in his chest that told him how wrong this was, giving himself over to the excitement of the situation with languid movements, soft reactions, deliberate arches. And the stranger responded, thrusting less quickly, enjoying each thrust, each honeyed pull inside him, jerking him slowly and never touching directly on the most sensitive nerves.
“Please,” Viktor begged, tilting his head provocatively, his voice thick with an accent, “let me see you.”
He knew he had to disguise himself. A poor victim, a sensitive and easily dominated man, a poor guy who wanted nothing of it, reduced to a mere fleshlight in the hands of a stranger. He shouldn't be whining so softly, should be preventing that smirk from appearing on his lips between one thrust and another, and shouldn't be so wet and soft and receptive to that cock.
“Then we'll lose the magic.”
“We won't. I want to see your eyes.”
The stranger thrust harder, earning a dry groan in response, and sped up, barely giving Viktor time to even think about anything.
“I already told you that it's for later. And t-that I didn't want to see coherent thoughts coming from you anymore, V. You really are hard to dominate, huh?”
“A-Ah!”
“Ask again. I like to see you beg.”
Yeah, the stranger was starting to lose control. He stopped masturbating him to fold Viktor even further, pushing his knees against his own chest, and if the thrusts weren't so strong and deep at the point of making him think less logically, Viktor would complain that he wasn't that flexible. Because also, apparently, he was, he was taking it all very well.
“P-Please, oh, please.”
“Please what?”
Viktor shook his head, unsure of what he was asking for. For him to stop? For him to hold him more tenderly, kiss him and make love to him the right way? No, for him to keep going and not care about anything other than his own pleasure. The words tangled in his mind, not returning logically to his throat, but some spoke louder than others and in the midst of the crying mess he presented, the man seemed to catch something right, because he bent down, pressed his entire body against his, and whispered against his lips:
“Okay, I got you.”
He kissed Viktor at a pace that didn’t match the mistreatment he was giving his hole, with a caress that didn’t match the sound bouncing between the walls of the apartment, with sighs that swallowed the smaller man’s moans in an incessant pleasure. Viktor was close, even with just a small pressure on his clit from the outside, he could feel it. Roots of pleasure were guiding his entire body, concentrating on a path that went straight to his groin, and the stranger's dick hit a particular spot that made the possibility of cumming much sooner, much stronger, so suddenly.
“There, right there, please, please—.”
“Shh, it's okay, it's okay, that's it,” he said between kisses, on his lips and cheeks, cleaning the salty trail spilled there, and his weight pressing so hard on his body was as comforting as his words, “that's it, I got you, give yourself in.”
Viktor gasped against him, searching for his lips in desperation, until he realized that there was less pressure on him, something against his closed eyes that sparkled behind his eyelids.
“Cum with me, I'll do what you asked, I'll cum inside, okay? I'll fill you all up with my cum, like you asked.”
“No, not inside!”
He begged, but not even he felt convinced, and when he opened his eyes to protest, he noticed.
Honey-colored eyes, bright and painted in amber lust, dilated pupils filled with desire, a split eyebrow drawing a frown that held itself back from throwing itself off the cliff too soon.
Unable to escape that look, he came.
It was like coming out of a dive, waking up from a dream, breathing the air again. He came looking into the stranger's eyes, even though he wanted to roll his own back, close them to surrender completely to the waves that invaded his body, perfect and melodious, squinting around that cock as if asking him to accept him completely, to complete him in a way that no one else had ever done. Mesmerized by the same color as his own, he mouthed a yes, please, cum for me, in me, soft, sweet.
And he couldn't look away either when the man followed his orders and came inside him, amber exploding with pleasure, their mouths open against each other in hot breaths, Viktor's name being uttered at the height of that pleasure, like a prayer, like a sacred thing or a secret between the two that could do nothing but escape the bubble formed between their two bodies for the world to see.
They kissed, fiercely, with the stranger still fucking him, thrusting his cock deep so that Viktor's pussy would milk every last drop, so that nothing would be wasted, and Viktor continued to delight himself against his tongue until the last second, until he had already stopped thrusting and his lips were going numb, until his lungs burned for some air. When they separated, top and bottom, liquid ran down: a string of saliva broke between their mouths, cum slowly slid out of his cunt.
“Holy shit.” The stranger exhaled, adjusting himself to untie the knots and make room for Viktor to sit up.
Massaging his own wrists, Viktor took a closer look at the man. He had a strong, athletic build, well-cut hair and the shadow of a beard. He was squarer than himself, but less angular, the small amount of fat filling his cheeks and the bottom of his belly, a protective layer beneath the black hair that grew there. He was very handsome, somehow familiar, and Viktor felt like his brain would melt if he thought too much about what they had just done on his couch. He straightened his posture, his back cracking from top to bottom.
“So…” He pulled his hair back, feeling the sweat on the back of his neck and realizing how messy it must be. “You promised.”
“Hmm? Oh, right. Before that, uh, did you like it?”
Suddenly, this man with a hand as wide as his thigh, who had tied him up and blindfolded him in less than a minute, who had fucked him so hard he couldn’t sit up straight at that point, looked like a lost boy. Viktor smiled, and his smile turned into a full, breathy laugh, and the man smiled back, something so bright and clean that it made Viktor’s cheeks turn redder than they already were. Damn, he’s really handsome.
“Hmm… I thought it was, eh, too tame.”
He shrugged, as if he wasn't about to lie down again because his body was too soft from the fucking. The stranger then sat down next to him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Finally, Viktor managed to hold him, and tried touching his biceps first (holy fuck, look at the size of that), grateful for the soft skin between his fingers, moving his touch up to the nape of his neck when he felt it was enough.
“Tame?”
“Uh-huh. Could have been rougher. I don't break, you know.”
“I know.”
An exchange of kisses. Too cheesy for the moment, but Viktor couldn't help himself.
“How did you get up here anyway? There was supposed to be a doorman at the entrance.”
“I said I was your boyfriend. The doorman almost asked for the whole story.”
Viktor arched an eyebrow. He hoped he hadn't given any story at all.
“Very clever. What if I hadn't liked your attack? We have security cameras.”
“They don’t work.” The man replied as if it were something normal. “And I knew you would like it.”
“So you’re my stalker, right? To know so much about me.”
“Well…” A hand, unfortunately, disconnected from him to scratch the top of his head. “Does that scare you?”
Viktor grabbed his jaw, and stared at him. Hmm. Was he famous? Viktor wasn’t really into sports, but he looked like someone who had appeared in some sports advertisement, maybe he was a model… He certainly looked like that type. A part-time model who paid his tuition, he supposed – because for someone to find out his address and fool the doorman so easily, he would have to be clever and sneaky, academically inclined. He must be a little younger than himself. But Viktor could also be completely wrong. He would have to ask a lot of questions.
“Very. It’s a terrifying prospect. I don’t think I’ll ever leave the house again in fear of danger.”
“Well, I just invaded your house, so that'd be pointless. Also, your smile doesn’t betray fear, Viktor.”
Viktor blinked, amused.
“You promised, by the way, to tell me after… this. What’s your name? It’s annoying that you're the only one with knowledge here.”
A teasing look, a lick of his lips, and Jayce pulled him close again, kissing him lightly to see him from very, very close, at the end. Viktor shivered at his touch, excitement spreading through his veins, the other’s scent starting to become too familiar for one night.
“It’s Jayce.”
“Hmm. Then, nice to meet you, Jayce.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “nice to meet you properly, Viktor. Can I stay for dinner?”
His eyebrows raised, even though he shouldn't be surprised that Jayce knew he hadn't eaten yet. Were there hidden cameras in his apartment? How long was he stalked for him to gather the information that his meals were extremely late? Oh, well, none of that mattered, really.
Viktor smirked.
“Of course. You don't need to ask for permission.”