Alex and Nate

Author's note: This story is about rape. It also includes elements of voyeurism, bondage, corporal punishment, and watersports. But primarily it's about non-consensual sex. Don't read this if that's not your thing.

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Alex walked into the bar and looked around. She didn't particularly care for these places. They were loud and full of people, most of whom didn't interest her. But needs must when the devil drives and Alex was horny. Looking around, she saw a tall man with dark hair drinking a beer at the counter. There was no one seated to his left, so Alex took the stool.

"Can I buy you a drink?" she asked, looking the man over. He was well-built, muscled arms and a neck thick with muscle. Possibly a body builder. He had a close-cut beard, which she liked, and was likely a few years older than her, which fit her present mood.

The man smiled. "Really? Um, thank you. I'll have whatever you're having." He turned to face Alex directly and froze. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was tall -- a few inches shorter than his own six feet -- with long black hair that seemed to stay out of her face without any effort on her part. Her clothes were almost certainly tailored just for her; they fit perfectly and emphasized her breasts and hips in a way that couldn't be accidental.

"I'm, I'm Damon," he stuttered, holding out his hand.

"Alex. It's nice to meet you." Her grip was firm and confident.

Damon was too dazed to hear what drink Alex ordered for them. He barely even noticed that he was drinking it. Alex was so gorgeous that it was hard to think about anything else.

Damon's attraction was evident to Alex, and she didn't want to stay in this bar longer than necessary. She took his hand. "Want to come back to my place?" she asked.

"Sure, really? Wow," Damon couldn't believe his luck. He supposed he must have done something very, very good in a past life to deserve this, but he couldn't imagine what that might have been. "I'll call an Uber."

"No need, I drove here."

She tugged him off his stool and led him out to the street. They walked less than a block to get to her car.

Alex's car was a Jaguar. "Do you want to drive it?" she asked Damon.

"Seriously? Hell yeah! This car is... wow."

Alex smiled, she was very proud of her car, and liked to see it properly appreciated. They got in the car. Damon drove as Alex navigated, taking them into an extremely gentrified neighborhood that was, Damon supposed, to be expected given her car. A right turn onto a street that Damon would have missed if Alex hadn't told him to look for it very carefully led to a tall apartment or condo building. "We'll have to switch places," said Alex, her tone apologetic. "They won't let us through if I'm not the driver.

Damon stopped the car in front of a garage door with a small, manned station next to it. As he walked around to get into the passenger's seat, Alex went up to the station and said a few quick words to the attendant. When she got into the driver's seat, the door opened and she pulled in. Her parking space was right next to an elevator labeled "Private: penthouse use only." Damon was more and more aware of just how loaded this girl must be. If she owned the penthouse in a place like this... shit, she probably had more money in spare change then he would make in a year, or ten years.

This beautiful, self-assured, rich girl had chosen him, him, out of all the people in the bar. Damon began to think about what might happen if this became more than a one-night stand. After his last girlfriend had left him, he'd mostly stuck to no-strings-attached encounters, preferring to get laid and move on without the risk of heartbreak. But this girl was something else, the perfect package. He tried to keep from getting his hopes too high, but she seemed to like him well enough, and he couldn't imagine she took just any guy who caught her eye here.

A key opened the elevator and they stepped in. There were no buttons for floors, just the standard ones for emergencies and firefighters. As soon as the doors closed they began to rise. Alex took Damon's hand in hers and squeezed. "We're going to have fun," she told him; Damon's heart skipped a beat.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Alex stepped out, hung her coat on a hook and took off her shoes. Damon followed suit. The room they were in was small, a sort of antechamber, he supposed. With lots of other coats, boots, and shoes neatly arranged. Damon was pretty sure at least one of the fur coats was mink. Certainly everything here was expensive. His own shoes and coat looked shabby alongside them, but Alex didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were on Damon, looking him over with a mixture of liking and desire that made his knees weak.

She led him through a door into a large, open room, that clearly served as her living and entertainment center. Everything here was also clearly expensive, and old. Alex might have a preference for antiques, although her car was certainly new. A projector was shining a video game onto a blank wall and... there was a man sitting on the couch playing it.

He looked up as they entered. "Oh, hi Alex," he said cheerfully. He stood up and walked over to Alex. Unlike Alex, this man was not at all attractive. He was shorter than Damon by a head, scrawny rather than lean, and the portwine stain on his face did nothing to enhance it. "I'm Nate," he said, offering his hand. "Alex's roommate."

"Roommate?" asked Damon.

"Nate and I went to school together," she told Damon. "He had a... falling-out with his family recently, so he's staying with me until he can get his feet back on the ground. Nate, this is Damon, I invited him over for the evening."

Normally, Damon might have been inclined to jealousy, but Alex was so far out of Nate's league that the idea of her having any interest in him was laughable.

"You two probably want some privacy," said Nate. "I'll just be in my room. There's some leftover duck in the kitchen if you're hungry."

He went back to the couch, switched off the game, and left the living room by a side door.

"Did you want some duck?" asked Alex. "Nate's a good cook and roast duck is his specialty."

Damon shook his head. His stomach was already full of butterflies and he didn't want to risk upsetting it. "No thank you," he said.

"Don't worry," Alex said, squeezing his arm. "You have nothing to be worried about." She led him over to the couch, turned on the projector, and used the remote to select a movie. Damon didn't see what it was, his eyes were on Alex. They sat down and she leaned into him, letting her head rest on his chest. Damon put an arm around her and enjoyed the pleasant fizzing sensation of desire flowing through him. He wasn't surprised when Alex picked up her head and kissed him, but he was still grateful. They kissed for a long time, hands roaming over each other's bodies, exploring them. Then, Alex whispered in his ear, "Do you want to fuck me?"

"God, yes!" said Damon. He didn't know if he'd ever been this turned on, been this hard. He was utterly consumed by lust.

"There's just one thing I want you to do for me first," Alex said, her voice playful.

"Anything."

"Let Nate fuck you."

Damon had never been turned off so quickly. "What?" he yelled.

"You heard me," said Alex, her voice no longer soft and entreating, but commanding. "I want you to let Nate fuck you."

"What the fuck? Why would I... that's sick, that's really sick." He stood up. "I think I want to go home," he said.

Alex shrugged. "Be my guest," she said.

He marched into the entry room and pushed the button on the elevator. Nothing happened. He walked back into the living room, not entirely surprised to see that Nate was now standing in a doorway, looking at him with curiosity. "The elevator's not working. How do I get out?"

Alex pointed to a glass door that led out onto a balcony. "The elevator's working fine, but it's only for my friends."

"There's a fire escape?"

"No."

"Then how..."

"You jump."

"You bitch!" Damon put his fists up and walked towards Alex. "Let me out!"

He heard a soft click and looked over. Nate was pointing a gun at him.

It didn't always go like this. Sometimes the boys Alex brought home agreed at once. Maybe there were a bit bi, maybe they were just too turned on -- or drunk -- to think straight. That was rare. More often they were repulsed at the idea, but wanted to fuck Alex so badly they could be persuaded to get fucked first. Occasionally -- and Alex and Nate lived for those times -- they reacted like Damon did, or even more violently.

Damon put his hands up. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he tried to think of what he could do, of how he could get out of this situation.

Nate smiled coldly at him. "You're probably wondering if I'd really do it," he said conversationally. "If I'd kill you in cold blood for not cooperating. The answer is, yes, I would. And then we'd call the police and report how I had to kill you to stop you from raping Alex. And they'd believe us. Even if someone did get suspicious, Alex's family has connections. If they want something covered up or ignored, they get their way. Chances are that there wouldn't even be a police report. If you want to still be alive by dawn, you'll do what we say.

"Now, put your hands behind your back so Alex can zip tie you."

Horrified, Damon obeyed. This was really happening, he realized, these two perverts were going to rape him and he couldn't stop it.

Alex put a zip tie around his wrists and pulled it tight. The plastic cut into Damon's skin. Horrified, he realized that Nate was rubbing his crotch. Had he dared to look behind, he would have seen that Alex was doing the same.

Nate grinned at Alex. This was going well. He wondered why Alex hadn't roofied this one. He was big enough that if he'd put up more of a fight, Alex might not have been able to subdue him. Nate was entirely prepared to shoot one of their victims if he had to, but that would end their fun and there'd be the whole mess of calling his contacts in the mob to dispose of the body; so far they'd been lucky, but it was always a risk, a risk that added to the thrill.

Alex clipped a collar and leash around Damon's neck, and pulled him into another room. This room had been designed with some care. Neither of them was about to let the sort of boy Alex invited over into one of their bedrooms, so they had to be able to use it for the boys who acquiesced to being fucked -- who never knew that the alternative to getting fucked was getting raped -- as well as for the ones who put up a fight. As such, the room looked like an actual, lived-in bedroom. There were books on the dresser, a small TV opposite the bed, and curtains covering the windows. Everything was still of the highest quality; on those occasions when they had actual guests, this room could and did serve as a guest room.

A moment later Damon was bent over the bed. His left ankle was chained to a bedpost, his mouth covered with duct tape, his hands still bound behind his back, his leash clipped to a ring on the bedframe. Nate no longer held a gun. Instead he was kneading Damon's butt with both hands while Alex looked on.

Alex's hand was now inside her pants, rubbing her clit as she watched her best friend prepare to rape Damon. She'd seen this before, many times, but each new boy had his own particular frisson of emotions as he waited to be fucked. Alex savored the look on his face, the way his body shuddered with dread and anticipation. This was going to be fun. Then Damon closed his eyes. That was unacceptable. She withdrew her hand from her pants, walked over to Damon, knelt by the bed, and held his face in her hands.

"Open your eyes," she told him. "I want you to look at me while Nate fucks you."

She hoped he'd refuse. Nate got creative when a victim refused her orders, and she was curious how he'd choose to persuade Damon to keep his eyes open. But Damon complied, so he was safe for now.

"Is he being a good bitch?" Nate asked.

"Yes, he's not enough of a man to fight back."

"He really isn't," Nate chuckled, then slapped Damon's ass. Damon let out a muffled yelp. "You be good and this will all be over soon. I won't even hurt you too much.

"You ready to see him naked?" This was directed at Alex.

"Probably not much worth seeing, but yes."

Alex used a heavy knife to cut through Damon's belt, then a pair of scissors to cut off his pants, underwear and shirt. He pulled off Damon's socks and walked around the bed, holding them for Damon to see. Then he cut each sock lengthwise. Damon began to panic, well, to panic even more. He'd been assuming that they would let him go after raping him, but they were destroying his clothes. It seemed unlikely they had any clothes that would fit him, so maybe they didn't intend to let him go. Maybe they would keep him, or kill him.

Watching Damon's eyes suddenly begin to dart around, hearing his breath become louder, Alex guessed what he was thinking. She grinned at Nate. "I think you've scared him," she said, her voice mocking, then help up her hand. Nate high-fived her.

Something about that, about the way they were clearly getting off on his terror, made Damon snap. He began to thrash and scream, but he was limited in how much of either he could do. His mouth was taped shut, he couldn't raise his torso due to the leash, his hands were useless, one of his legs was chained in place; all he could do was kick out with his one remaining leg. to try to force Nate away as he walked back to the other side of the bed.

To his surprise, this seemed to work. He couldn't see Nate from his position, but his leg wasn't making contact with anyone. He kept at, thrashing his leg around to ward off his attacker. Alex didn't move, she watched him with a gleam of displeasure in her eye, but didn't try to stop him or even say anything. That worried Damon. Why are they letting me do this? he wondered. With that thought, he stopped.

"That's a smart bitch," Nate said. "It knows what we can do to it."

A moment later Damon's other leg was also chained in place and Nate was once again kneading his butt. "Now," said Nate thoughtfully, "How should we punish you?"

"Actually, can we take a quick break, Nate? I have to pee."

Nate grinned. "Want to pee in a cup?"

Oddly, this particular punishment was one they hadn't tried before. Alex loved Nate at moments like this. She had no romantic feelings towards Nate at all, but he was the best friend she could ever have hoped for, the only person she could share her darkest passion with. She hugged Nate as she left the room.

She came back with an empty class, squatted with her pants and panties down in front of Damon, and locked her eyes with his as she pissed. She finished and stood up, not bothering to put her clothes back on. She continued to keep her eyes locked as she spoke to him. "I'm going to take the tape off your mouth in a second. You'll have a choice. You can be good, say nothing, and drink this..." she held up the pee-filled cup, "or you can lose your cock. I honestly don't really care which you choose but be aware, that is the choice you have."

Damon nodded. He thought Alex would rip the tape off his mouth, but she didn't. She pulled it off very, very slowly. He tried to stay quiet, to be still. Drinking pee won't be so bad, he thought. Better than the alternative at least.

He didn't resist when Alex pulled his head up by the hair and brought the cup to his lips. He swallowed what little pride he had left along with the pee, grimacing at the taste but not daring to risk not drinking every last drop.

Alex put the cup on the dresser and leaned against the wall, staring at her friend and their victim. "Go on and fuck him, Nate."

As Nate lubed a finger and stuck it in Damon's hole, Alex resumed masturbating. She kept eye contact with Damon, waiting for the look on his face when Nate stuck his cock in. Nate added a second finger and Damon shuddered; he knew what was coming.

Damon could only guess what was going on behind him when Nate withdrew his fingers; the hungry look on Alex's face didn't bode well.

"Don't worry, you'll get fucked soon," said Nate. "I just have to put a condom on first; who knows where you've been or what you've picked up?"

Damon was relieved that Nate was going to put on a condom, but the way Nate phrased it, the clear implication that it would be Nate who risked getting dirty by fucking him, added more than a small touch of humiliation.

Nate wasn't gentle when he entered Damon, Damon hadn't expected him to be. He also hadn't expected the horrible feeling of pleasure that washed through him along with the pain. The pleasure that said in no uncertain terms that a part of him liked this. In a saner, clinical moment Damon would have understood that this was simple biology. He had a prostate; when stimulated, the prostate creates a feeling of pleasure. But this moment was anything but sane and clinical. He had to make it stop, to do something to stop the awful mix of pleasure and pain, of humiliation and lust. "Please, stop," he begged. "I can't take this."

His head was suddenly yanked up by his hair. "Did I say you could speak, bitch?" growled Nate.

But Damon was no longer coherent enough to answer. Once again he had snapped, but this time it was to a place where words had no meaning, where the images coming into his eyes made no sense. Where all he could feel was the awful, glorious cock pounding into him.

Alex and Nate had occasionally been able to get other victims into a nonverbal state, but it was a rare pleasure; a delicacy both of them savored. They thrilled in the knowledge that they had reduced what had been a human being into nothing more than a thing to be fucked, used, and discarded. Alex slid to the floor, letting her legs twitch as she brought herself to climax. Nate came soon afterward. Their moans of pleasure were a cacophony filling Damon's ears that he could not interpret.

The room went dark. Over time, a semblance of sanity began to ebb back into Damon's mind. Once he was aware enough to realize where he was and what had happened he began to cry. His sobs were deep, wracking, and painful; tears and snot streamed down his face. After a while the sobbing stopped and Damon lay on the bed, unable to do anything at all.

He heard the door open and the lights switched on. He squinted; the light hurt. Someone walked over to him -- he was squinting too much to see if it was Nate or Alex -- and put a bag over his head and cinched it around his neck. A moment later, he heard two clicks and felt the shackles come off his ankles.

"Here's what's going to happen," said a chipper voice. It was Nate's. "In a moment, we're going to walk over to elevator. Actually, Alex and I are going to walk, you're going to crawl. We'll get in the elevator together and go down. There will be a van waiting for you. You'll get in the van and it will take you..." he paused. "Actually, I've never bothered to find out where they take people or what they do to them. But you'll be out of our lives and someone else's problem." He swatted Damon's butt, then cut the zip tie, freeing his hands.

Damon let himself be dragged, crawling, by his leash. He couldn't see where he was going and feet -- presumably Alex's and Nate's -- kicked him whenever he strayed too far from wherever it was they were going. He heard the ring of an elevator door open and crawled in and felt the elevator descend. It stopped, the bell rang again, and he was yanked forward again by his leash. For a moment he felt concrete on his hands, knees, and feet, then he was snatched by several pairs of hands.

Alex and Nate watched the cleanup crew stuff Damon into the van and drive off. They fist-bumped, then hugged each other and headed out for brunch.