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Tommy's breathing was uneven and his heart was beating out of his chest. He had his hand over his mouth to muffle any sounds he might make, and his eyes were screwed shut, he couldn't have seen anything in the pitch black anyway. But he could hear. He could hear the heavy steps of shoes in his house and whoever it was, he was scared of them.
Wilbur had left. Wilbur had left only twenty minutes ago, this couldn't be him. So then who was it?
The steps got closer and closer, and they became the loudest as they walked into the bedroom, where Tommy was hiding. The person walked around, inspecting Tommy's belongings, but they didn't sound like they were looking for anything. They weren't taking the valuable items around the room, no, this intruder wasn't here for mere objects.
"You can't hide from me," a low voice said, the first thing Tommy heard from them that night, and realising that the intruder knew he was there, punched a little sound out of Tommy. A whimper, a quiet one, muffled by the hand covering his mouth. Deafening silence followed after and Tommy prayed for whatever almighty being was up there that this person did not just hear him.
The closet door swung open, and Tommy came face to face with the intruder in his home. His hair and eyes were brown, the lower part of his face covered by a mask, making it impossible for Tommy to tell who exactly was under there. He was tall, even taller than Tommy himself, and as he tugged him out of the closet in which he hid, Tommy realised he was also strong as hell.
"Got you now, little one," the stranger growled, and shoved Tommy onto the bed. He scrambled to get away, but the man grabbed him by the ankle, like some sort of doll, and kept him there. "You think you can get away from me? Aww, how cute. I'll give you a little hint: don't try to struggle, you'll only make it harder for yourself."
"Wh-who are you? What do you want from me?" Tommy squealed. His whole face was white from fear.
"Oh I'm a big fan. I've been watching you for a while, you know? Such a cute little boy, in the light of fame since the ripe age of fifteen. My god, did puberty hit you in all the right places... At some point I just decided I had to have you, and holy shit, you made it so easy." The man laughed, terrifyingly manic. "You basically offered yourself to me on a silver platter. You moved to the city where I live, I didn't even have to get to you. You go out with your friends in big groups all the damn time, and you're loud, you know that? You stick out like a sore thumb."
The man released his ankle and Tommy instantly pulled his feet up to his chest, curling in on himself to protect what he could. The intruder stepped over to Tommy's nightstand and picked up a framed picture that sat there.
"The only obstacle was your stupid little boyfriend." He showed Tommy the picture of him and Wilbur. Phil took that picture on their trip to Disneyland, him and Wilbur are kissing in front of that weird statue of thrusting Buzz Lightyear.
"Put that down," Tommy ordered, making the man laugh.
"Why, what will you do?"
"You... You can't hurt him. Leave him out of this."
He sighed and put the picture back down. "You know I really fucking hate this guy. Who does he think he is, hiding away the world's most beautiful treasure? Why does he think he's so special, that he should be the only one getting you? I feel like I've done way more to get you than he has." He put one knee up on the mattress and reached for Tommy again. "And now I've got you."
As he got his hand close to his face, Tommy did the first thing he could think of and bit the intruder's hand. He cried out in pain, and Tommy used that moment to get up and bolt for the door. He ran out of the bedroom and headed towards the front door, his long legs taking him quickly, but not quick enough. He was tackled in the living room, head hitting the carpeted floor and he groaned as the man's full body weight collapsed on him.
"You piece of shit, you little fucking whore, you'll pay for that."
Tommy's head was being pulled up by his hair and he felt a sting in his nose. Was he going to cry? Fuck, he can't let himself cry, not now!
He tapped three times on the floor. All movement around him stopped. The grip on his hair released a little so it wasn't hurting, and he had time to catch his breath. He didn't say anything, he just took big, deep breaths. When he felt the urge to cry slowly disappear, he tapped three times again, and the unforgiving tug on his hair was back.
"I wanted to make it good for you, you know? I wanted to make you feel good. But if you won't cooperate, I guess I can't let you have that."
The brunet got off Tommy and, upon releasing his hair, pulled off his shirt so suddenly Tommy didn't even have time to resist. He was flipped over onto his back, and hands were on his bare torso.
"Look at you. Pretty boy, you look so slutty. This tiny little waist, your fucking tits-" He harshly grabbed onto one of Tommy's pecks, and pinched his nipple on the other side. Tommy yelped and his back arched off the ground. "Holy shit, you really are a whore, huh? Enjoying it this much? So adorable." The man laughed behind the mask.
He groped Tommy all over, those filthy hands branded themselves on his skin and god, Tommy wanted to get the fuck away so badly. He tried squirming, he tried backing out, pushing himself with his feet to move away from the stranger, but it was no use. He pulled Tommy back down by his waist and straddled him, grabbing both of his wrists in one hand and pinning them above his head.
"You can't get out, you can't escape from me. I've dreamt about this so many times, I'm not letting you ruin my fun."
The hands were off Tommy for only a few seconds as the man grabbed Tommy's previously discarded shirt and– rip! His shirt, now in the form of a scrap material, wrapped around his wrists, and Tommy was bound. He struggled against it, he tried pulling his hands apart, but to no avail.
While Tommy was distracted with his hands, the man undid his jeans and tugged them off along with Tommy's boxers. The boy was kicking his feet, trying to stop him, but he got a stinging slap to his cheek in return, which made him stop momentarily.
"Stop it, you little fag," the man spit crudely. "You can't escape the inevitable, I'm going to fuck you no matter what you do. If you behave then I might use the lube I brought, but if you want to be difficult then I can be difficult, too. Your choice."
Tommy gulped, swallowing down all protests and insults. His breathing was so heavy from struggling, it was the loudest thing in the room. He bit his lips in, willing himself to stay quiet, and nodded.
"Good slut."
The man continued undressing him until Tommy lay naked on the carpet, the slightly rough material irritated his skin, but it was the least of his worries. He was going to be raped. He'll get raped by this man and there was nothing he could do other than sit and take it. He felt a teardrop slip down his cheek as he remembered Wilbur, his sweet Wilbur who would have to deal with the aftermath. Tommy couldn't help but feel like he was betraying his boyfriend.
"Oh don't cry," the intruder cooed mockingly. "Don't worry, I won't make it too painful for you. Just enough that you can bear it."
Tommy was flipped over onto his front again, his forehead resting on the floor as the man tugged his hips up. There was the sound of spitting, and it hit Tommy's ass crack, which meant... The man pulled his mask down! Tommy tried peeking over his own shoulders, but he was almost immobile in this position, he couldn't see anything clearly. He was left to just feel , feel the way rough fingertips gathered the saliva and pushed into his hole.
"Oh you're nice and relaxed, aren't you? Have you been used like this recently? Or did you prepare yourself for tonight's activities with your filthy little boyfriend?"
Tommy held stubborn silence until the man slapped his ass, twice in the same place. There was no time in between the two impacts, and it made Tommy cry out from the intense stinging.
"Speak up!"
"No!"
"When I say speak, then you better fucking speak." Cold metal pressed to his skin where his thighs met the meat of his ass. A blade. Tommy's eyes snapped wide open. "You don't want me to use this, surely."
"I- I... I just..."
"Speak. Up. You worthless little bitch."
"Both," Tommy whined. "It's... it's both."
"Both, huh?" The man spat again, right on Tommy's hole, and used the saliva to ease his fingers into it. Tommy whined at the uncomfortable intrusion. "When did he last fuck you?"
Tommy's voice was meek, yet he pretended he still had courage left. "None of your business."
"Oh come on," the man pressed the metal into Tommy's skin, and the boy gasped. "Speak for me, darling."
"Two days ago! We had sex two days ago. And I wanted to surprise him tonight with... more. So I got ready."
"Well I can't say I'm mad about it, makes things easier for me." He bent over Tommy's body and bit his shoulder, hard enough to leave an aching pain and teeth marks behind. He moved down to his shoulder blades, and kept biting all over Tommy's back. It was painful; so painful, in fact, that Tommy started crying. "Too bad for him, I get to be the first to enjoy your loose little hole."
The fingers retracted from his hole and Tommy only had a few seconds to catch his breath before those hands were back on him. His grip felt like a snake's tight hold, Tommy was suffocating under him.
Cold liquid dripped onto his hole again, thicker than saliva, and Tommy knew what was coming. The inevitable , the man called it, and really, even if Tommy tried, he couldn't escape right now. Not with the tight grip in his hip and his arms bound in an uncomfortable position. He was just hoping it wouldn't be that bad.
"You're... using protection, right?" He asked when he heard the sound of trousers being shucked off.
The man laughed, "Of course not. I'm going to make you feel every inch of me, and I'll make sure to mark you up inside and out so you'll never forget me." He bent down again to whisper in the boy's ear. "You won't ever escape me, Tommy." And as he said that, he penetrated Tommy.
The drag of their bodies colliding was slow and uncomfortable and Tommy hated that he liked it. It felt just like Wilbur. Tommy was comparing the stretch of a stranger's cock inside of him to his boyfriend . Sickening. He's a horrible, horrible partner.
The man did not let him adjust to the feeling like Wilbur usually did, he started at a ruthless pace immediately, and Tommy let out whorish moans in return. He tried biting the inside of his cheek or his tongue to silence himself because he shouldn't react like this, he shouldn't! But the pleasure was overbearing and he couldn't help but vocalise it.
"Such a little slut for me, Jesus, you're moaning on my cock already, and I didn't even have to force you to do it. I wonder what your precious little boyfriend would say if he could see you like this."
"Don't talk about him."
"Oh, why? You don't want to think about him while I fuck you this good? I bet he couldn't make you feel this way."
"You're- wrong!" Tommy's statement would've been more believable if his voice didn't break halfway through on a moan that ripped from his throat. "He's incredible, he's amazing, I love him!"
"Sure you do, but can he fuck you this good?"
The fast pace the man dictated slowed down, and instead he focused on thrusting deep and hard into Tommy, wracking his whole body with every impact.
"He can! He can do bah- better!"
Tommy gritted his teeth to will himself to stay quiet, but little whines and moans still found their way out. They only spurred the man on.
"Oh yeah?" He crooned and the blade that was previously pressed to his leg, returned. This time, the tip of it was dancing up and down Tommy's spine, threatening to puncture and cause serious nerve damage if he so much as moved how he wasn't supposed to. Chills ran down Tommy's back and his eyes rolled back into his skull. "Why don't you tell me about him a little? What is he into?"
"What..." Tommy hesitated. "He's. Just..."
"Oh I see, you found some basic ass vanilla guy, huh? Poor little boy, I bet that must be horrible for you."
"What? No! He's not vanilla, he's just... gentle. Loving. He's wonderful and-"
"Boooring!" He grabbed a fistful of Tommy's hair again and pulled his head up until it was no longer on the floor. Now the only thing keeping Tommy upright was the man's harsh grip. He moaned because the sting on his scalp complemented the pleasure so perfectly. "Look at you, your rapist is balls deep inside you and you're moaning. You sure as hell aren't vanilla, so why don't you tell me what you like?"
The flat side of the blade pressed to Tommy's neck, the edge of it right under his chin. It was dangerous and exhilarating. "I like Wilbur," Tommy said through gritted teeth.
"No, tell me what you're really into. Tell me what you want."
"I... want..." The blade pressed harder just as the man started fucking him faster again, and Tommy let out a moan louder than any of his previous ones. "Fuck, I want pain! I- I want him to hurt me, treat me like trash, humiliate me and use me!"
"Yes, just like that, keep going."
Tommy cried as he kept talking. "I like being held down and controlled. Tied down, helplessly taking what's given to me."
"Yeah, exactly, you like this, you want this."
"No! Not you, never you! I don't want you, I want him! My boyfriend! Please!"
"Oh shut up, you fucking whore, you can put this cute little act to the side." He pulled on Tommy's hair harder and nibbled on his neck. "If I were to tell you you're free to run back to your precious little boyfriend, or you can stay here and take my cock until I cum, which one would you choose?"
Tommy was silent other than the sounds of pleasure escaping through his nose. He just lay there, bonelessly.
"Go on, struggle against me, Tommy. Do it, fight! You're no fun if you don't fight back, come on, I want to enjoy this!"
He bit his lip and tensed his muscles, refusing to speak or move. That wasn't enough for his rapist.
"Alright, if you wanna play like that then we'll play like that."
The man pulled the blade away from his neck and released his hair, letting Tommy collapse on the floor once again. He hit his head, since he couldn't soften the impact with his tied hands. The man started a brutal pace, he no longer held himself back, he just used Tommy's body for his own pleasure. He kept the blade in one hand, ever present on Tommy's skin like a constant threat, while the other hand gripped Tommy's hip and moved his ass up and down his cock like some toy.
"You're so fucking pretty like this. I can see my marks on your skin already."
Ugly bruises formed all over Tommy's back where the man had previously bit him, leaving temporary evidence on the boy's skin about tonight. It filled him with way more self-satisfaction than it should've, but what can you do? He loved Tommy, he loved owning Tommy.
"You don't even know how long I've wanted to do this for, I've watched every single one of your videos, wondering how you'd look like bent over for me. Such a fragile boy, I knew I could hold you down, manhandle you however I want. And finally... Dreams do come true, huh?" He giggled and slowed down his thrusts ever so slightly to savour the moment. He groped Tommy’s ass, his thumbs pressing down on his hole and feeling the in-and-out movements of his own cock. "Such a nice ass, you were literally made for me. You're even enjoying this! You said you like being hurt, well, I'm giving you what you want! Has your boyfriend ever done this for you? I bet he hasn't, he's so fucking boring. You'd have way more fun with me, sweetheart."
Tommy was silent. He was biting his cheek so hard he drew blood, but he refused to speak. His stubborn silence caused some worry, and the thrusts slowed to a barely there back and forth. There were three taps on his hip where strong hands held him. A question . Tommy repeated the taps on the floor, signalling that he was okay. Without breaking character, they jumped right back into the scene.
"He's never done this," Tommy finally whispered.
"I know, baby, I know," the man cooed. "But you're fine with me now, you get to be treated like the filthy little slut that you are. A pain whore. A desperate little fag."
The boy scoffed. "You're a fag, too, you know?"
There were five sharp hits on his ass and thighs and Tommy cried out. "There's a fucking difference, you bitch. You're taking my dick in your ass and moaning like a hooker. While I'm just fucking a cute little femboy. A hole's a hole, y'know?"
"Femboy?!" Tommy repeated. "Who the fuck are you calling a femboy, you bitch?"
The man shoved his head into the floor harshly, squishing his cheek against the carpet. The fast thrusts that previously slowed down came back with full force, he was fucking the air out if Tommy's lungs, fucking him deep enough to feel it in his throat.
"You, little bitch. Look at you, so tiny and fragile. I could wrap my hands around your waist and my fingers would touch. You have fucking-" He groped Tommy's chest. "-tits! What kind of guy has such pretty titties? I've never seen one before. And your face too, your plump lips and all this batting your eyelashes shit. Didn't you post a selfie in makeup the other day? You can't be upset when I call you a femboy."
"I'm manly." Tommy's voice was broken. Croaky and rough and slightly slurred from his cheek being squished.
"Oh really? Because right now, you just look like a freeuse slut to me. Nothing manly about this."
He started moving the blade around Tommy's body again. Up and down his sides, across his waist and down the meat off his ass. He let it dig into his thighs a little more as he took it down, to where his knees bent. Then, on the way back up, he reached under Tommy's body and pressed the flat side of it to his pelvis. Tommy gasped.
"I could cut your pretty little dick off right now. That would certainly take your manliness away," the brunet whispered.
They didn't mention this before ... Wilbur told him about every place where he would take the blade, but this wasn't one of them. And even though he knew there wasn't an actual danger of being cut with a knife that wasn't even real, he was still afraid.
"Yellow," Tommy called out. The motions stopped again. "Not there."
The blade retracted and the pace picked up instead, leaving no time for Tommy to think anymore. Or even to catch his breath. His head was swimming with pleasure and pain and fear and satisfaction. He wordlessly took the stranger's dick and let all of his sounds flow freely out of his mouth. Enjoying the roughness way too much, he hadn't half a mind to protest anymore.
"I'm getting close," he said once he felt his orgasm creeping up on him. He was about to come from an intruder raping him...
"Shut up," the man spat back. "You’re being raped and you’re about to come from it? At least be modest and stay quiet about it."
"Please," Tommy begged, though it felt disgusting to do so. It was the only thing he knew how to do, Wilbur always made him beg when he wanted to come. "Please, I need it! Please please please!"
"You only get to come if you admit I fuck you better than him." A slap on his ass, then one on the back of his thigh. "Admit that you’re enjoying being raped by a complete stranger and you like this even more than you like sex with him."
"N-no..."
That was all the fight that was left in him. One single word and no more. It earned him a growl and another bite of his shoulder blade. He wasn't sure if the warm liquid that dripped onto his skin was his own blood or the stranger's saliva.
The man all but shouted, "Say it!"
"I like it!" Tommy squealed and tried hiding his red face. "I like being raped, I like how you fuck me! I like this better than sex with Wilbur! Now please, please let me come. I need... my dick, please!"
There was the abhorrent sound of spitting again, and then a slick hand wrapped itself around Tommy's cock and jerked him off, the rough pace not unlike the one the man's hips were dictating. Soon, Tommy was coming with a shriek, ejaculating all over his rapist's hand and the carpet underneath him. He was fucked through the intense orgasm, and the man behind him bit him a few more times before he slowed down and released inside of the boy. He made sure to fuck his semen deep into Tommy's hole, and once he pulled out, he pushed Tommy away.
Tommy collapsed onto his side and he finally caught a glimpse of his rapist. The mask was back on, he had no way of seeing his face, and he was already stuffing his softening cock back into his trousers. Once he was done, he grabbed Tommy's ruined shirt and ripped another piece of it.
"In case you get any ideas of following me," he said, wrapping this one around Tommy's legs. He tied Tommy's limp ankles together as well, then tapped the boy on his thigh.
"Well, I really enjoyed that, Toms. You're an absolutely wonderful little fleshlight. And the way you fought against me in the beginning? God that was hot as fuck. I'll be sure to visit you again sometime."
The man left the house, leaving Tommy alone in complete silence, naked and bound and still panting as he was coming down from the orgasm he'd just experienced. The house was silent again.
Five minutes later, the door opened again, and Tommy jumped. Was he back? Fuck, that couldn't be, right?
"Tommy! Babe I'm home!"
"Wilbur..."
He heard footsteps coming from the front door, and they approached the living room, where–
Wilbur gasped. " Tommy! " He dropped everything in his hands and rushed over to his crying boyfriend, undoing the knots on his restraints with hurried movements. "Baby, what happened to you?"
"He- he came into the house," Tommy sobbed. "I don't know how, Wilbur, I swear I didn't let him in! He just... Oh god I'm so sorry."
Wilbur pulled the boy into his lap and cradled his naked body gently. "Tommy it's okay, don't be sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you alone. I'm sorry I didn't get here quicker. I love you so much, I'm here, I'll protect you now."
Wilbur held him until he stopped crying, then carried him to the bathroom in his arms. He ran a hot bath for the both of them and they washed off the sweat that they'd worked up and other bodily fluids still clinging to their skin. Tommy kissed Wilbur with a smile. He was then carried to their bedroom where Wilbur put ointment on his bruises and dressed him up in comfy clothes. Tommy walked to the kitchen on his own two legs and ate the protein bar and the apple juice Wilbur got ready for him even before they started the scene.
"So, what did you think?" The older asked hesitantly.
Tommy grinned at his boyfriend. "I loved it, I really did. That was so fucking hot, like all of it. We should try it with a real knife sometime."
"No," Wilbur laughed. "Definitely not. We're sticking to the play knife. I like hurting you, but I couldn't trust myself with a real knife while we're having sex. One wrong movement and I could land you in the hospital."
Tommy rolled his eyes like the dramatic teenager he was. "You're no fun."
"I've gotta say, you're an incredible actor, Tommy. That crying at the end? You actually had me worried."
"It was just the adrenalin wearing off. You usually do aftercare right after a scene, but I had five minutes on my own this time. It was hell."
"Alright, noted, less time in between."
"That would probably be the best, I really like... not having a sub drop, y'know?"
Wilbur giggled again. "I don't think anyone enjoys having a sub drop."
"And if you could not rip my favourite shirt next time, that would be nice."
Wilbur pulled Tommy close by an arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to Tommy's forehead. "Eat your fucking protein bar, you brat."