Author's Note:
A tale of forced play and realization fantasy for joeys-game. I hope you enjoy this story that was written for him. ~ Red
The rain splattered against the pane of glass that shielded the young man from its cold touch. Joey listened quietly. His heart pounding in his chest. His fingers worked at a knot he couldn't release. The beat of his heart sounded in his ears and he felt the sweat of terror slip down his spine as the noises in the room filled his mind. His head turned to the left and then the right trying to hear what was happening or recognize the voice of whoever it was that had broken into his home and knocked him out. His eyesight shielded behind a cloth of what he thought was silk.
"Scared aren't you Joseph?" the voice said quietly.
Joey jerked. "Who are you? What do you want?" The hair on the back of his neck stood up as his assailant breathed against him.
"You Joseph. I want you," the voice answered back, running a hand down his chest and then over to his left nipple.
"Get the fuck off me man," Joey said and tried to struggle from his bound position. He heard the "Yeah, we're gonna fuck and I'm gonna get off" brush over his ear and then a warm tongue slipped across the curve of it.
Joey shuddered in fear, yet his body reacted as some do and he felt a tingling deep in his balls as the wet tongue traced the shape of the gentle sloping cartilage. "I'll be back Joseph. Don't go anywhere," the voice whispered and trailed a hand down Joey's chest, gripped his cock and stroked it several times. "Think of your friend Brian and how much you'd like to fuck him."
"Brian You know Brian? Don't you hurt him. You son of a bitch " Joey growled. Laughter filled the room and then a door closed. Silence was his only audience.
Joey thought of Brian, his best friend's uncle. He felt his chest tighten as he pictured the handsome man. Brian had been a constant source of friendship for Joey and Chad the last three years, and he cared a lot for him, more than he should. Chad lived down the road from Joey and after the death of his parents, Brian had moved in and become Chad's guardian. Chad had only been fifteen, just like Joey; Brian had been thirty. Brian took to the job and Joey had taken to him.
He felt his heart calm as he focused on the thirty-three year old mentor. He saw his blue eyes and his soft, sandy brown hair. His tanned skin and buff figure only added to the Adonis like image that he saw whenever he looked at Brian. Mentally, he shook his thoughts away and began to think of how to get out of the mess he was in. He couldn't have Brian. It was wrong to want a guy and he needed to focus on getting free.
His hands were bound behind him and drawn tight. The ball and sockets of his shoulders felt as if they were being ripped apart. His legs were stretched wide and his ankles tied down to the back leg of the chair, forcing his body forward. Joey felt as if he were on some wooden rack, but instead of being laid flat he was forced to stretch out in a sitting position.
Joey stilled as the sound of the door opening brought his heart back up into his throat. "You shouldn't bother trying to free yourself Joseph," the voice said. "The knots are intricate and very secure."
"Where's Brian?" Joey asked.
The sound of steel sliding out of steel suddenly filled the room and for a moment Joey's heart stopped beating.
"Look man. I don't know what the fuck you want with me, but whatever it is I'll do it. Just. . . tell me you didn't mess with Brian. . .or Chad." Joey suddenly felt like a complete ass. He'd not even thought about Chad.
"Chad is fine Joseph and so is Brian. I just asked you to think about him, because I know how much you want to fuck him. You do want to fuck him don't you Joseph?" the voice said and then Joey felt the sharp knowing tip of a knife slip down his chest, his stomach, and then back up again.
Joey took a deep breath and held it. He blinked, hating the cloth that covered his eyes. He tried to breath deep, only to breathe in the same cologne Brian wore. "Fuck you asshole You're lying to me. You did something to Brian What kind of sick fuck are you?"
Suddenly Joey's head was pulled back and the blade was pressed to his crotch. "You've got balls, calling me a liar. . .you could lose 'um for that." The blade ran back and forth over the hard marbles. Joey swallowed the lump in his throat. "I didn't hurt Brian or Chad. I only came for you. I knew your parents were out of town and you were alone. You should have gone to Chad's like he asked you. Then you wouldn't be here. You'd be at his place with Brian drinking soda and eating pizza. But you stayed home, even though they asked you."
"How the fuck . . .?" Joey asked. Joey's mind raced a mile a minute. He listened to the man walk away and tried to focus on the voice. That was all he had to work with on identifying his attacker. He knew he was disguising it. There was a raspy quality. The words were deeper than normal, or so that was the impression Joey got. He thought of how this could have been done and wondered if the man had some kind of voice scrambler. That was the only thing he could think of.
"You've gotten quiet," the voice whispered. Joey said nothing, choosing to listen.
"I see. Well, since you're not talking then we'll get started."
Feeling a hand on his cock, he wanted to jerk away, but couldn't. He was tied down and wasn't going anywhere. He closed his mind off to the sensation of the man stroking his cock. He felt the hard calluses dragging his sensitive skin up and down. "You're getting hard, you sick little fuck."
Joey cringed.
"Yes," he thought to himself, "I am getting hard. Oh man, don't let this happen to me."
He felt his body respond as the stroking got stronger and more demanding.
"Come on Joseph you know you like it. Some old man rosy palming you. Getting your dick nice and hard so they can fuck it."
"No!" Joey shouted only to hear laughter escape from his captor's throat.
"Oh, you don't like that thought? Your cock did. It jumped in my hand as if it were hungry for a good ass fuckin'."
Moistening his lips with his tongue Joey tried to breathe.
"Joseph, we're going to play now. . .and Joseph, I'm as naked as you," a soft chuckle followed and then the words, "Feel this?"
Cold steel pressed against Joey's cheek and he flinched. "Careful Joe," the voice sounded and then coughed.
"Joe?"
Joey thought, but said nothing as he tried to think of the few people who called him Joe and not Joey or Joseph. A small list ran through his mind. He'd always been Joey to everyone, and Joseph to teachers, parents, coaches. Joe was reserved for men usually, men he considered important to him, men he thought of as authority figures who deserved his respect not because of a job title, but because they simply made you admire them because of who they were. The list was short, and on that list was Brian, the man that he was concerned with and the man who owned the same cologne that this unknown wore.
"Going quiet again?" the voice whispered and then tugged on Joey's ear lobe. "Joseph tell me what you want."
Joey swallowed. "I want to go home, you freak." He hissed out his words with a throaty growl. His cock hurt, the man's fingers hand never let up, the stroking firm and steady.
"No Joseph, that isn't what you want."
The knife tip ran from his jaw, down his neck and then over his collarbone. "I'm going to describe things to you Joseph. I want you to imagine this so you know what is happening. I want you to know. I want you to realize what's going to happen to you."
Steel traveled from the center of his neck and then over to his right nipple as the voice began again. "This room is fifteen feet, by twelve feet. It is painted a dark blue. You can probably smell the fresh paint."
Joey breathed in. "Yeah, you can, can't you?" the voice said. "See Joseph, use all your senses. Breathe deep, and calm yourself," the knife traced the shape of his nipple, Joey shuddered, "breathe in and out," the voice whispered and the knife slipped over to the left nipple.
"Joseph. You can feel too can't you? Feel my breath as it slides across your skin. My hand on your cock and the knife Joseph. . .feel the knife as it explores your body?" The deadly tip slid back to the center of Joey's chest and then began to move down. "What else can you feel? Think about it, you can feel my fingers rolling over the head of this cock. I've seen your cock Joseph. I've seen it limp. I've seen it half-cocked. I've even seen it hard. I love seeing it when it is hard. Makes me want to suck it. To taste the hot liquid creme."
"Fuck," Joey muttered. His cock was swelling and the thought that this man, whoever he was had seen him in all those ways, meant he'd either been stalking him for some time or it was someone he was really close too. That made his mental list shorter.
"Joseph, concentrate!" the voice shouted.
He swallowed. The knife moved further down and slipped over his pubes. The hand fell away from his dick. Joey felt a warm wet liquid cover his groin and his balls. Suddenly two hands were washing his cock and testicles. His whole crotch was soon hot. "What are you doing?" Joey asked.
"Washing you. Now, Joe don't move, baby." The voice was suddenly laced with concern and this made Joey breathe deep. He smelled the hint of Ivory soap, another clue to who was fucking with him. That clue was dismissed when he felt the scrapings of the knife shaving his pubic hairs. He wasn't sure how much time passed. His body was tense as the knife moved over his skin. Eventually, a cloth, soaked wet with hot water was pushed against his shaven form and he sighed in relief. "See, you're safe."
Joey's relief fell away as his cock was suddenly enveloped by more heated moisture. This time he knew what was happening and he clenched his eyes shut under the black cloth. The assailant's tongue moved around the head and then further down. He felt his dick rise back up, the shaving experience had brought it down several inches. Those inches however, were quickly rising again. "No man, don't. . ."
"Joseph. You want it," the voice said, and then went back to sucking.
"Ohhh fuck, man." Joey moaned as his cock began to feel with blood. He could feel his hips moving, pumping up for more of the sweet blanket of heat. Inwardly he cursed and fought his body's desire.
