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His favourite boy was always a sight to behold but nothing topped seeing the younger male utterly helpless and at his mercy. Approaching the foot of his bed, he unashamedly admired the view as Quentin, blindfolded and nude, fought against the invisible force holding him to the mattress. There was no worry of his obsession breaking free, not in his world, and with the Entity too preoccupied to interfere, he had ample time to do whatever he pleased.
“You know you can’t keep me here forever,” the teenager confidently claimed after his prior cursing and complaining had temporarily ceased.
While this was indeed true, he continued to work towards changing that in the future, his many achievements dissolving the leash the Entity had wrapped around his neck little by little. He was going to leave her repetitive, lacklustre world behind soon enough and he would be taking Quentin with him when that moment finally arrived.
“One day,” he smilingly declared while envisioning the deserved and sinful future ahead of him.
His words nor the promise they held were paid any mind as his boy quickly resumed, “My friends will wake me up bef—”
Noticing the bed dip in select areas and sensing someone suddenly hovering above him immediately silenced the teenager, his body automatically tensing in anticipation. Quentin obviously had some inkling of what was about to happen, his attempts to hide his fear behind a mask of bravery and indifference all too cute. Having his sight robbed from him, courtesy of the blindfold, was clearly not helping matters and forced the younger male to rely on his other senses that much more.
Growing excited at the thought of overloading a couple of those senses in particular, he nonetheless started things off in a leisurely manner by gently blowing on one of Quentin’s ears. Instantly did his boy flinch and turn away from his breath, the amusing display one of many he was going to take pleasure in witnessing.
“What friends? You fell asleep, alone,” he slowly and whisperingly emphasised, “in the woods where no one will find you.”
An angry frown replied to this fact before the teenager growlingly jerked his head away from the leathery finger attempting to trail along the curve of his cheek. “Don’t touch me.”
Doing the exact opposite of that, he proceeded to drum the tips of his claws ever so lightly against Quentin’s bared throat. “Heh. I’ll play nice this time,” he smirkingly cooed as his obsession shivered from the cool steel touching his skin.
“Just lemme go,” the younger male impatiently demanded, his efforts to free any one of his limbs noticeably weaker than minutes prior.
Ceasing his drumming motions, the claw of his index finger was then used to scratch a line across the teenager’s nose whilst he said, “I might, when you’re better behaved.”
Quentin’s immediate response was to grimace before blindly spitting in his face, the disobedient act accompanied by a nasty, “Burn in hell.”
Hazy blue eyes were probably blazing with defiance and determination, as they usually did during moments such as these, their intensity matching the fire that they held inside. Alas, the visual was but a mere product of memory and to be honest, he was more interested in seeing those eyes clouded by lust and desperation later on when the blindfold eventually disappeared. Running his tongue along his teeth as he anticipated such a sight, he then proceeded to clean the saliva from the bridge of his nose while emitting a dramatic sigh.
“You really should learn to watch your mouth,” he lightly rebuked, his ungloved hand delivering a punishing slap across the younger male’s face shortly afterwards. “It’s almost as if you do it on purpose.”
Soundlessly did Quentin absorb the harsh blow, his swift recovery from it equally as impressive though expected from his boy. With this resolve maintained, the teenager turned his head forward again before uttering a forceful and slow, “Let. Me. Go.”
Dislikable tone aside, he had to commend Quentin for his persistence, something which he was going to enjoy breaking down. With the exception of a few disturbing chuckles, he offered no other reply as he continued to toy with the bound beauty below him.
Softness glided along his thumb as it traced his obsession’s bottom lip while snapping teeth, which were of no threat to him here, tried several times to deprive him of such pleasure. Whatever verbal complaints he received in the meantime were significantly less than before, presumably because the younger male realised the uselessness of voicing them. A couple of purposeful squeezes to the throat, just enough to get a message across, also dissuaded his boy from spitting in his face again.
“Quit it already,” Quentin disgustedly expressed upon feeling a tongue beginning to lick at his cheek.
The delicious flavour combination of salt and shame had him moaning in approval, the taste in his mouth lingering as he addressed the complaining teenager once more. “You won’t be saying that for long.”
“Go fuck yourself,” the younger male suddenly snapped, “or the prickliest cactus outside of the Dead Dawg Saloon.”
As creative as the latter part of that insult was, he was not about to relinquish the smooth flesh of his obsession for any prickly substitute. “Tempting,” he offered after a moment, his groin firmly grinding against the body below him. “But I’d much rather fuck with you.”
His intentions were no great mystery, especially not to someone as clever as his favourite boy, and yet the teenager was no less anxious for what was to come. Expecting the worst was something Quentin did on a regular basis, often times quite vividly, but not knowing precisely what was going to happen was eating away at the younger male. His obsession, of course, hid the outward signs rather well though the subtle smell of fear wafting in the air was as undeniable as it was delectable.
Whichever way Quentin’s head was turned left him with access to something to touch, tease or mark up. His breath and the brush of his fingers or claws kept the teenager cringing while his bites and cuts occasionally brought out a little whimper or two. At this point, anything he managed to draw out was a victory since his boy seemed hellbent on denying him those sweet sounds.
His sights eventually drifted lower when Quentin began to effectively block out his touch, the neglected areas below the neck practically calling out to him. Sitting upright, while continuing to straddle the younger male, he briefly looked upon the five scars staring back at him before resuming his attack. Aside from the contrast they added to such pale and otherwise unmarred skin, those scars were the only thing which clearly marked the teenager as his own.
None of the damage he inflicted nowadays was permitted to stay, no thanks to the Entity, but he had few complaints. Savouring Quentin’s eternal youth, in every possible way imaginable, time after time and having the ability to repeatedly hurt his obsession were definite positives.
“You should see yourself,” he distractedly commented, his hands running appreciatively over hairless plains of lean musculature. “My sweet baby boy.”
Th younger male remained silent all the while, something which he saw as a challenge, and continued to immerse himself in happier memories instead of acknowledging his situation. Relishing in the thought of dragging his obsession back into reality, he eagerly descended upon the stubborn boy underneath him without further delay.
Hands and claws initially went after whatever section of flesh caught his eye, their pressure ranging anywhere between featherlight and firm. A mark of some kind was left behind on occasion though neither his bruising nor his slices were ever too severe lest he accidentally break Quentin too quickly. His lips, tongue and teeth were used in a similar fashion, his bites in particular bringing out barely audible gasps and whimpers alike. Bodily shivers were not as common of an occurrence, not yet at least, but the one or two he did feel rippling beneath his palm were ever a delight.
A couple of licks in the right spots—armpit, navel, nipple or scarred areas most notably—resulted in the teenager tightly clenching his teeth together to prevent any sounds from escaping. Contrasting temperatures, like the coolness of his claws versus the warmth of his ungloved hand, helped to drag his obsession further away from the safety of those happier memories. Likewise, having his mouth turn cold or hot at will also gave his tongue the ability to leave behind a freezing or burning trail, something which Quentin equally struggled to ignore.
Showing a bit of attention to one area, sometimes just the simplest brush of his finger, and then focusing heavily on another succeeded in confusing and annoying the teenager as well. Of course with his actions possessing no pattern to them whatsoever, the younger male was left guessing his every move either way.
His smirk returned upon feeling a stiffening cock slightly brushing up against his pants, the discovery prompting him to suggestively say, “I knew you’d warm up to this.”
“M’not,” Quentin instantly denied while seemingly trying his hardest to will away his growing problem.
Seeing those shiny lips pursed in a thin line whilst a deep blush stained those mildly sliced cheeks highlighted just how much of a struggle that was. His boy, however, was not fooling either of them regardless, not when the evidence between their bodies was so plainly obvious.
Eyeing a specific place which had yet to receive his attention, he proceeded to lean in for the attack while uttering an amused, “Aren’t you though?”
Whatever answer the teenager attempted to voice was drowned out by a surprised moan when the puncture scar on his left shoulder was suddenly sucked at. Those five scars had always been rather sensitive, much like select areas of his own burnt body, and he knew exactly which ways to touch each one of them in order to make Quentin squirm.
“Don’t, nngh…”
Smiling at how his obsession struggled to speak, he continued to diligently suck away at scarred flesh until he was fully satisfied. In the interim, the younger male was becoming less and less composed on the outside, his arousal failing to flag no matter what he tried. Switching over to attack those erect nipples of his again, especially with rough nibbles, did not appear to improve Quentin’s focus any either. In fact, despite having ignored the cock brushing up against him thus far, he knew that his boy was just moments away from achieving orgasm.
“You’re weeping for it,” he proudly observed while stealing another glance at the teenager’s member, its oozing tip and faint twitching a cute sight.
Too aroused to deny the obvious and too weak to resist it any longer, Quentin allowed shame to wholly consume him and reluctantly accepted whatever was to come next. The younger male, however, was swift to softly shout in surprise the second he felt a force, much like the one already holding his body in place, bearing down around the base of his member. He watched his obsession tremble and quietly pant for a moment after that, the frustrated curl of those lips diminishing the longer the teenager was left untouched.
Finding the reaction curious, he waited until Quentin appeared more relaxed before sliding lower down on the bed and then targeting the delicious flesh of an exposed thigh. A startled yelp, something which his boy was unable to suppress in time, hit the air when his mouth initially made contact with such soft skin.
The next few curses directed at him were tuned out as he spent some time simply marvelling at the smoothness touching his lips before introducing some tongue and teeth into the mix. His ministrations in that one area were relentless and more than enough to elevate the younger male’s arousal right back to its former peak. Unfortunately for Quentin, this soon generated an exceptionally awful kind of pain as his ability to achieve orgasm remained out of reach.
He eventually switched over to the other thigh when the first was sufficiently red and littered with bites and cuts. Meanwhile, the painfully erect cock in his peripheral vision continued to be neglected as he thoroughly enjoyed listening to his boy beginning to really break down. Blindly did he slice up the lower regions of those toned legs whilst his mouth worked on the second thigh, the contrasting sensations of pain and pleasure ensuring that the teenager stayed on edge.
“Stop,” he heard Quentin weakly utter once he was finished licking the blood away from the latest bite he had created. Pretending to have missed what was said, he instead used two of his ungloved fingers to draw lines near the younger male’s groin. “Fucking stop.”
Knowing full well that his obsession was unable to do so, he nevertheless mocked Quentin’s predicament with especial glee while continuing to teasingly move his fingers about. “But you’re already so close.”
The displeased teenager thrashed his head from side to side for a short moment, the frustration in his tone all too noticeable as he fought to say, “Just, nngh… j-just lemme—hah!”
A single lick along the underside of his obsession’s cock, from base to tip, instantly gave Quentin something else to think on. While his actions were unlikely to inspire any rational thought, he was perfectly happy hearing nothing but screams and moans for the time being.
Besides, his boy had not even begun to suffer.
Taking Quentin’s glistening tip into his mouth produced quite the loud reaction, the body below him writhing—as much as the invisible binds allowed—from the stimulation. Unhurriedly did he pleasure the bulbous flesh in his mouth, his tongue alternating between straight flicks and circular swirls, both of which driving the teenager wild. Muscles were tensing all over the place while teeth struggled to remain clenched together as nearly every lick forced some embarrassing sound out of his obsession’s mouth.
In spite of how wonderfully things were progressing, he had yet to hear the younger male actually beg for the release he greatly desired. This was not entirely shocking considering how willful Quentin was, specifically around him, but it was unexpected to say the least. Granted, with plenty of past experience to draw upon, his boy was probably smart enough to know that begging did not guarantee anything. More importantly, he was in a particular mood during this visit, one which demanded that the teenager be broken and utterly drunk on lust before he was wholly satisfied.
His continuous sucking resulted in Quentin’s volume going up a touch while any conscious effort to stay quiet seemed to be a thing of the past. Time from there on out was measured in intervals where he alternated between giving attention and completely pulling away, the latter lasting until his boy relaxed enough to start again. Moreover, multiple times was the younger male brought to the point of orgasm, which was still unavailable, and then left to temporarily cool down before the torturous process was repeated.
Slowly and gently were his actions moving forward as he eventually took Quentin deeper into his mouth, the blindfold growing noticeably damp not long after he did so. Increased flushing and sweating were simultaneously noted around the same time, the former complimenting the numerous bites and cuts already present on the body beneath him. Utilising his little temperature trick from earlier—his mouth changing between cold and hot—had his obsession howling, the piercing sound almost bringing the ceiling down on their heads.
Similarly pained sounds and the sight of the teenager losing all semblance of control was beyond pleasing, something which his growing problem attested to. Before long, his mounting excitement encouraged him to leave his boy’s overstimulated cock alone and focus his attention on the area he desired most to ruin yet again. With but a single thought, Quentin’s legs rose into the air where they were then spread apart and held wide open by the same invisible force already in use.
Having his ass put on full display had the younger male stifling sobs, his voice semi-hoarse as he begged, “Please don’t, Freddy…”
“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” he conversationally offered, his eyes glued to what was right in front of him.
His obsession mumbled incoherently in reply though he was too busy drinking in the sight before him to bother listening. Furthermore, the image staring back at him evoked a number of different memories, all of which seeing his favourite boy in some lewd position or another. One, in particular, featured a five-year-old Quentin resting between his open legs, those hazy blue eyes filled with tears while a tiny mouth tried its best to suck on the tip of his member.
Good times.
“You were more eager when you were younger,” he fondly resumed after a short moment, his fingernails and claws lightly scratching lines along the undersides of the teenager’s thighs. “Of course I never had the chance to do anything quite like this with any of you kids back th—”
“Stop it.”
As tempting as it was to carry on, remind his boy of those good times again, he had to admit that reminiscing about what he once had was slightly depressing. Things were supposed to be different, his precious children showering him with smiles and adoration whilst he lovingly watched them flourish for years to follow. Never once had he anticipated their betrayal, its horribly sharp sting having hurt him worse than the scorching flames which had engulfed his body during the final seconds of his life.
His lips unconsciously twisted into a frown as he dwelled on their betrayal further, those painful moments stirring up deep feelings of hatred. Those feelings were quickly channelled into a powerful glare which was aimed straight at the person responsible for some of that pain and so much more. However, recalling his journey up until this moment, the brightest memories of which flashing behind his eyes, saw his gaze soften soon enough. While his children had robbed him of the happy, fulfilling life he once envisioned alongside them, he was not entirely unfortunate these days.
“I still have you, don’t I?” he affectionately uttered aloud, his excitement reigniting while he slicked up three of his ungloved fingers. “My little Quentin.”
Adorably confused and fearing the worst, Quentin began fighting against his binds yet again, his efforts laughable and as fruitlessly as ever. He chuckled some at the display before moving to push a single finger through the puckering entrance which beckoned him, the pleasurable feeling within promising to satisfy his every desire.
Miserably did the younger male whine when his hole was breached, his insides immediately tightening up in response to the intruder. A sharp gasp, followed by a variety of other sounds, prevented the teenager from commenting on his worsening situation as well, his body clearly too sensitive to handle even the simplest of touches.
He imagined what reaction his cock might get, once it was buried inside such a tight heat, whilst he commenced the process of opening his boy up. The slickness coating his finger simplified the task though the walls clamping down on his finger were not so easily stretched into submission. Quentin was somewhat noisy in the meantime too but having his prostate touched drove out a newer, needier sound which surprised the both of them.
One finger transitioned into two shortly afterwards, their combined motions loosening the teenager up bit by bit while the sounds falling from his mouth carried throughout the room. Those motions were torturous enough for his obsession to endure though those sounds were at their loudest when a certain spot was repeatedly attacked. Meanwhile, his reddened cock, ever twitching and glistening, continued to be trapped in a painful state but was obviously ready to burst the second it had the freedom to do so.
Discomfort building up within his pants forced him to pause long enough to will the confining layer out of existence which, in turn, exposed the lower half of his body. He failed to realise just how aroused he truly was until his member was freed, the few strokes he gave his sensitive length nearly triggering climax. Unable to deny himself the additional pleasure, his hand continued to move along his cock, his actions eventually leading to a gentle yet gratifying ending.
Eyes falling shut and head tipping towards the ceiling, his stroking motions became lazier whilst he savoured everything he could of the rush his orgasm had brought on. Quentin, in the interim, vaguely grimaced in disgust upon feeling globs of sticky warmth splattering against his ass but was otherwise too preoccupied with his pain to really react.
With his euphoria gradually ebbing, he thought to pick up right where his teasing torture had been left off. Prolonging the younger male’s suffering, along with merely enjoying this moment to the fullest, was one of his primary goals. However, there were plenty of ways to go about doing that and the temptation to skip ahead to something involving greater pleasure was too strong. The irresistible image of his obsession writhing under his touch while being forced to feel everything he offered tended to wet his appetite for more.
Additionally, in spite of his initial confidence, the Entity or one of Quentin’s friends might yet intervene at the worst possible time. As greedy as he could continue to be with his time, he was not about to miss out on another opportunity to truly break the younger male down, especially not when he was already so close to doing so.
“Mr. Krueger, please,” he heard his boy, slightly breathless and sniffling, suddenly beg when he moved to align his cock with a certain hole. “Don’t do this.”
So polite did Quentin sound while speaking and the little smile he wore afterwards was a beautiful touch as well, but he knew that the teenager was just putting on an act. The effort, however, did seem deserving of some niceness in return, even if it ultimately played more so to his benefit. With his idea in mind, he began to execute it by moving down to capture those smiling lips and despite flinching back at first, his obsession reciprocated the kiss within seconds. This cooperative behaviour was probably meant to better persuade him to stop but he had every intention of pressing forward.
He relished in the feeling of their lips pressing together all the same, their continued kissing leading to the teenager slowly dropping his guard. Once Quentin seemed distracted enough, he grabbed for his cock and blindly pushed it inside, the startled squeak the younger male released as a result happily swallowed. Penetration was effortless thanks to his thorough stretching from earlier and the residual slickness of cum lingering on his length, but his boy still complained nonetheless.
Ceasing their kissing before he was shaken off, he concentrated instead on the familiar feel of Quentin’s insides, the amazing snugness of those inner walls massaging his member ever so perfectly. His movements maintained a painstakingly slow pace in the meantime which appeared to be bothering his obsession that much more. Maintaining control was not as easily accomplished though, even after just getting off moments earlier, but the teenager was not likely to last much longer anyways.
“Bastard!” Quentin frustratedly shouted when his prostate was struck, the hoarseness of his voice at its most noticeable so far. “You, nngh… t-take it out.”
“With how nicely you’re squeezing me? Never,” he cruelly responded while purposely targeting a certain spot with every thrust, his boy moaning and sobbing as the torture progressed. “Why don’t you tell Mr. Krueger how good it feels?”
“It doesn’t,” the younger male barely hissed out. “Just fucking—hah!”
The thighs in his hands were gripped a smidge tighter as he expelled a disapproving hum, his pacing slowing even further when Quentin refused to say anything else. “Don’t be shy angelfish,” he sweetly said in an attempt to coax some truth out of his obsession. “You know there’s no secrets between us.”
“N-No.”
Growing annoyed by this lingering resolve, his hold on the teenager’s thighs turned bruising as his slow thrusting persisted, his cock gradually hardening once again in the process. However, minutes worth of this became torturous for him, not just his boy, but the breaking signs he was looking for had increased in the interim. It was always a treat to see Quentin so vocal and restless, his body trembling all over as drool leaked out from the corners of his agape mouth, the overall image ever arousing and flattering.
Lost in his own head as his pleasure continued to rise, he narrowly missed his obsession say, “Please, hah, j-just lemme—ah! Nngh… lemme cum.”
After a minute of consideration, he temporarily stilled inside of the younger male before reaching up to remove the blindfold. Watery hazy blues instantly greeted him upon doing so, the desperation and diminished focus they held a rare and pleasing sight.
“Should I now?” he curiously questioned, their eye contact maintained as he resumed his lazy thrusting.
Nodding frantically, Quentin tried to express that fact better by adding a hurried, “M’better behaved, m’better. Please.”
“I’m not convinced,” he flatly stated, his answer causing those hazy blues to widen exponentially.
Greater pleas immediately followed, the words he loved to hear tumbling out from that filthy mouth with abandon though a single touch to that his sensitive, swollen cock had his boy screaming. Unluckily for the teenager, he had no intention of obliging those sweet pleas, at least not right away, but he may yet be convinced.
Returning to focus solely on his thrusting, he took pleasure in observing the lack of fight Quentin once had upon waking up in this nightmare. Moreover, any lingering complaints and curses were long since replaced by cries of unwanted pleasure and howls of agony from continued orgasm denial. Engrossed in those thoughtless, desperate sounds and the sight of the younger male suffering, he failed to notice his second climax sneaking up on him until it literally exploded from him.
Deeply was his load deposited inside of the teenager as he rode out his second blissful high, his gluttonous moan echoing in his ears. Unbeknownst to him, his control had slipped slightly at some point when he was not paying attention which led to Quentin regaining his ability to move. This was realised once enough of his high had ebbed and after some bizarre noises from his obsession prompted him to open his eyes.
Watching the younger male frantically pawing at the base of his cock and finding nothing to grasp save for his own painful flesh was definitely worth the look alone. Evidently, his control had not disappeared entirely and he took especial pleasure in mocking Quentin’s situation further.
“Careful. You might hurt yourself,” he smirkingly commented while the teenager almost scratched up his cock in an attempt to remove the invisible force there.
A miserable whimper was his only reply, his boy continuing to paw at what was not there before eventually collapsing back against the bed in defeat. Shockingly enough, Quentin did not stay in that position for too long and maneuvered his body about until his face was pressed against the damp sheets and his ass was raised in the air between them.
“Please Mr. Krueger,” the younger male proceeded to beg over his shoulder, his voice sounding tired and resigned above all else. “Wanna cum. Let your baby boy cum, please.”
To think that he had educated and wore down his obsession enough where Quentin instinctively did something like this was unbelievably satisfying. An angry outburst or anything else along those lines was what he expected from the teenager but this alterative was more than welcome.
His boy had finally broke.
Not one to decline such a delicious invitation when it was presented to him, he summoned up the strength necessary to plunge back within that sticky heat. His previous orgasms had left him somewhat lethargic though he did not let this stop him in the slightest as he jumped straight into a rough and fast pace. The younger male barely had much of a voice left to use but, miraculously, he still managed to let out moan after moan from each thrust.
His third release was slow to build and the effort to get there was moderately exhausting; however, he really was unable to resist his obsession. Considering the circumstances, he wished to make this the best and last time, his thrusts growing erratic whilst he waited for the right moment to bring it all to a close. Furthermore, only when Quentin appeared ready to blackout and he was on the cusp of climax did he finally get rid of the invisible force holding the base of the teenager’s cock hostage.
The sudden disappearance of this barrier resulted in the younger male unleashing his every frustration in a weak, raw roar while he experienced the long-desired release he had been suffering to gain. Feeling those walls squeezing his member in a vice was the final push he needed to achieve climax as well, the blinding force of it nearly causing him to faint. Meanwhile, as he found himself without breath yet again, additional shots of his essence were fired from him which then further dirtied Quentin on the inside.
Doing his damnedest to keep himself from falling over once his euphoria faded away, he carefully extracted himself from his boy and simply relaxed for a moment. During this resting period, he realised that the teenager had passed out on him, an expected outcome and one that worked out well for him right now.
With the help of his powers, he later dealt with the mess sticking to his person and then manifested the clothing back on the lower half of his body. His gaze landed back on his boy soon after, the sight of the peacefully slumbering male bringing a soft smile to his lips, his ungloved hand moving to lightly muse those damp chocolate curls.
“Such a good boy,” he affectionately mumbled, his fingers brushing away several locks of hair from Quentin’s brow.
Letting out a long breath through his nose, he continued to watch his obsession sleep, his eyes drinking in every inch of his handiwork whilst he imagined how he might break the teenager once more.