by Renard, Loki
Gritting his teeth, he held back as Angelo forced the plug as deep as it would go, filling his ass completely. He could do this. He could hold it. He could stop from cumming - and then Angelo cupped his balls, squeezing just hard enough to make it painful.
Bobby came with a ragged cry, shooting his seed all over the bed, his ass so full of Angelo’s plug he felt his ring quivering and clenching with every beat of his heart.
“Good boy,” Angelo said, his voice almost warm with pleasure. Heated with the thrill of conquest, no doubt. Bobby felt a wash of shame through his flesh as he laid there, broken in a pool of his own cum.
“Why?” He just barely formed the question. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“You’ve been playing the little horror,” Angelo purred. “And now you’ve met a big monster. This is just what we monsters do.”
12
ANGELO
This boy was perfect. Angelo was in love.
Bobby allowed him to experience a kind of domination he’d never engaged in before, the true and total domination of a strong, resistant man. Angelo felt his excitement rushing through his veins, making the world brighter. Even oxygen was more satisfying. It was though he was high on a drug he hadn’t realized existed. And he hadn’t even fucked him yet. This was all one big long extended foreplay session.
He looked down at the boy lying prone and plugged on his bed. His little ass was being stretched nice and wide - a very good thing given Angelo’s plans for him.
Figuring he would need a little after care, Angelo got up and got a glass of water for Bobby. That taser had knocked him right on his arrogant ass, and that plug wasn’t much nicer. Bobby was starting to look pale and Angelo didn’t want him passing out.
“Sit up,” he said, standing over Bobby’s prone form. It took Bobby a second, but he managed to raise himself up to a sitting position, leaning back against some pillows. The smear of semen was sinking into the coverlet, a stain of shame. Angelo half expected Bobby to throw the water at him, but he drank it all down in one go. Angelo retrieved the glass before it could be turned into a weapon against him.
“How are you?”
Bobby cast a dark, resentful look at him. “Do you care?”
“I care more than you might think.”
Bobby gave a little snort. “Yeah. Nothing says ‘I care’ like a taser to the stomach and a plug in the ass.
“For me, it does.”
“That’s probably true,” Bobby allowed. “You’re a sick man.”
“No,” Angelo smiled. “I’m just a man who knows what he wants, and how he wants to take it. And you’re a boy who needs it.”
“Who needs what?”
“This.” Angelo reached out and allowed himself the small affection of running his fingers up and down the back of Bobby’s neck. “You must have been lonely on the streets. Nobody to match your intellect or wit or skill.”
Bobby shrugged. “I like to be in control.”
“No, you don’t,” Angelo rejoined. “You like to struggle for control, and then have it ripped from you. You like to know that there is no room for you to control anything. That’s the only way you can relax - when you are utterly, completely dominated.”
Bobby gave one of those churlish, impudent snorts. “You think you know me so well after what, a day?”
Angelo turned Bobby’s chin up to him. “Boy, I knew you entirely in the first moment we met.”
13
BOBBY
What frightened him most, besides the fact he was sitting in a bed belonging to a taser wielding maniac, was the fact that Angelo might be telling the truth. There was some kind of connection between them. They spoke the same language. It was a twisted tongue, but it was native to the both of them.
Angelo was right about the loneliness. He had been very lonely for a very long time. A brief respite had only made it worse, driven him mad with the desire for revenge. He wasn’t ready to share stories, or make connections with Angelo. He was ready to get the hell out of here and back to his life, with a lot more security.
Angelo walked away, then returned with something Bobby really didn’t want to see. It was a thick black length of leather - not a belt. Not an implement for beating him, but a collar. He was too tired to resist as Angelo stood over him and looped it around his neck, doing it up snugly so he could feel the leather with each and every breath.
“You look good in a collar,” Angelo said, his voice thick with something even darker than lust. “You’ll look even better on my chain.”
He pulled a length of it from his pocket, a simple dog chain. Appropriate. Bobby shied away, but Angelo grabbed him by the collar and clipped it on.
“Come on, little doggy,” Angelo said, tugging him up from the bed. “We have business to do.”
Angelo walked him through the house, down a stair case and into an office. There, he forced Bobby to his knees next to the desk and clipped the end of the chain to a ring on the floor. The worst thing about this all was the fact that his hands were free. He could take the collar off if he wanted. He could throw it across the room and attack Angelo. He could rebel. He could fight.
But he wasn’t going to do that. And he wasn’t going to do that because he was afraid. Because he had a huge plug in his ass and muscles that ached to the bone. Because he knew Angelo had the means and the muscle to do precisely as he pleased - and this, as humiliating and horrible as it was, was not as bad as it could be.
“Good boy,” Angelo said, taking his seat in the big leather chair.
Chained to Angelo’s desk by the collar around his neck, Bobby knew how fucked he was if anybody saw him like this. All it would take was a single visitor who knew the right people and his rep would be ruined.
His worst nightmare came to almost immediate fruition. Angelo toyed with his phone for a moment and not long after there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!”
Bobby panicked as the door opened. A mild mannered man in a suit walked in. He was as nondescript as it was possible to be. He looked like a suburban father of three. He looked like he rode a mountain bike once a month and held barbecues for his local church. Bobby curled up on himself, trying to hide his naked shame.
The man looked right through him, not flickering so much as an eyelid.
“Mr Vitali,” he said casually. “I have the documents you requested.”
“Bobby, this is Mr Feldman,” Angelo said by way of introduction.
A Jewish name. Thank fuck.
“Should I let him use you too, Bobby?” Angelo reached out and ran his fingers through Bobby’s hair, pulling his head back to force him to look up at the pair of them. There was no hiding from this situation.
It was an idle threat. Bobby was learning to read Angelo just as Angelo read him. Angelo was many things, but most of all he was possessive.
“Yeah, why not.”
His hunch was confirmed when Angelo tapped his cheek sharply. “Greedy boy. He’s not here for you. Mr Feldman has come to arrange the legal exchange of assets.”
Bobby blinked. “What?”
A shark like smile spread over Angelo’s face, the older man taking real glee in the reveal of his plan. “I’m taking you for everything you own.”
“Fuck off you are, this isn’t legal.”
“It is if Mr Feldman says it is.”
“But I’m chained naked to a desk. I’m obviously not consenting to this.”
“Your strange presentation won’t concern Mr Feldman. And it won’t concern you for much longer either. Mr Feldman, the documents, please.”
A bolt of shock went through Bobby as the lawyer began to take sheafs of paper from his case and present them not to Angelo, but to him. When he saw what was written on the papers, his eyes widened and his nostrils flared with rage.
Angelo had not been toying with him. They were property documents. Titles. Bank authorities. His titles. His bank accounts.
“I’m not giving you all my shit,” he said
, glaring at Angelo.
“You absolutely are.”
“This is coercion. It’s illegal.”
“Oh, it’s illegal, Mr Boy Mobster? Since when did that concern you?” Angelo’s dark eyes gleamed with near sexual pleasure.
“I’m not signing.”
“Of course you are.”
Bobby gritted his teeth. He could resist, but what was the point? Angelo had already demonstrated his willingness to inflict pain. It was a matter of whether he gave in now, or later. A little sliver of sense was forcing its way through the outrage. He was going to inevitably lose this battle, but he didn’t have to lose the war.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll sign whatever you want me to sign.”
“Good boy.” Angelo handed him a pen. A beautiful fountain pen. Bobby restrained the urge to drive it right through Angelo’s eye and somehow found the strength to kneel next to the desk, utterly naked, and do as Angelo wanted. He signed his name to document after document. His bank accounts. His apartment. His warehouse lease. In a matter of minutes they all belonged to Angelo.
When it was done, Bobby slumped on the floor, defeated.
Angelo dismissed Mr Feldman, who left without comment, apparently knowing better than to draw any of the energy in the situation to himself.
“That was easy.”
Angelo sounded disappointed. Of course. He liked it when Bobby fought him. It was all about the battle to Angelo. Deny him that and it was like denying a fire oxygen.
Bobby shrugged. “Sorry,” he said, his fingers toying with the chain.
Angelo got up and walked around the table, perching on the edge of it, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked down with dark hooded eyes and Bobby felt his chest squeeze tighter. There wasn’t enough air in this room.
“Tell me something, Bobby, seeing as you’re being so obedient right now.”
“Tell you what?”
“How did Aiden Taylor-Chapman break your heart?”
Bobby sucked in a breath. “What? Who told you that?”
“You did,” Angelo said. “You’re a smart boy. Surgical in your actions. You never over exposed yourself until you went after Aiden. You lost far more than you could have ever hoped to gain by killing him. Which tells me it was a matter of the heart. So, what did he do?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I don’t care. You will talk about it. Now.” Angelo’s voice had gone hard again, as had his eyes.
Bobby shrugged. Fuck this. Whatever. It didn’t matter.
“You want to hear about Aiden Taylor-Chapman? Fine. I’ll tell you that too.”
“I do,” Angelo extended his long legs out in front of himself as he looked down at Bobby’s chained form.
“I fucked him,” Bobby said. “And he didn’t call.”
Angelo cocked his head to the side. “That’s it?”
“Uh huh. He pissed me off. So I went after him.”
Angelo’s lips twisted with something like irritation. “Such a pedestrian reason for a ruthless revenge campaign.”
“I guess I’m not as interesting as you thought I was.”
Angelo raised a brow and looked at him thoughtfully. “I’m not buying this, Bobby.”
“Why would you buy it? You already stole it.”
His captor let out a barking laugh. “True,” he said. “And you understand, of course, that when I release you, you’ll have nothing.”
“Mhm.”
“No point pretending not to care, Bobby.”
He wasn’t pretending. He didn’t care. He’d started from nothing. He could do it again. The more Angelo threw at him, the more he realized he could survive. Angelo was trying to break him, but it wasn’t working. He was only growing stronger.
14
ANGELO
This was going more smoothly than he had imagined it would. He had Bobby’s business. All his assets. There was just one thing left to take - his sweet ass. He’d be broken in under twenty four hours. Perfect.
This next part was going to be a little more difficult. This he couldn’t force. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to. Bobby wouldn’t be truly broken until he offered himself up willingly in spite of everything. In spite of the pain. In spite of the humiliation. In spite of everything. In the end he would have to give himself up.
Angelo could see the desire in Bobby’s eyes. He’d seen evidence of it in the semen stain on his bed. Bobby could be broken. He was angry now, deeply ashamed. It should have been the absolute worst time to even try to take him - and with a normal person, it would have been. But Bobby wasn’t normal.
Bobby was made from the same cloth as Angelo was - and Bobby was wearing a leather collar and a cheap dog chain just because Angelo wanted him to.
Angelo’s cock stiffened in his pants. The domination was delicious. He didn’t want it to end. The original plan had been to take Bobby, break him, and cut him loose. Now Angelo wasn’t so sure. Now he wanted more. A lot more.
An idea was striking him. Bobby had taken to the chains very well. What else might he take well to? And how else might he be useful?
“Are you done with me?” Bobby asked.
“Oh I am so far from done with you,” Angelo purred. “I don’t think I’ll be done with you for a long time, boy.”
“So, what? You’re going to keep me captive?” Bobby shrugged with a little smirk. “Hell, seeing as you took all my stuff, that works. I don’t have a roof over my head anymore. You may as well give me one.”
Angelo didn’t believe for a second that Bobby was willingly buying into this, but his sarcasm was close to reality. When they’d met, he’d offered to take Bobby under his wing, keep him safe. It hadn’t been a real offer then, but perhaps it could be now.
The cold, calculating part of his mind told him that it was mad. Keeping Bobby would be like keeping a caged tiger, one he’d wronged a dozen different ways. But there was a thrill to keeping a tiger, and Bobby was more like a cub right now anyway. His claws weren’t as dangerous as they one day would be. Maybe he could keep him. Just for a while. Just until those claws came in.
15
BOBBY
Angelo was staring at him in a way that made him uncomfortable and concerned. Angelo didn’t look at Bobby the way normal men did. He didn’t bounce off the veneer and go away with some glossy impression. He studied everyone he looked at. Bobby didn’t know what Angelo was dissecting now, but he felt himself open and raw.
The plug was uncomfortable. He wanted it out. He was starting to shiver too. Clothing would be nice.
“So,” he said, forcing a smile. “Do you think I could get a sweater?”
“You have been a good boy,” Angelo allowed. “You can take the collar off.”
“And the…” Bobby let his eyes drift downward, even as he removed the collar. Just a simple buckle. He’d allowed that to keep him on his knees. What the fuck was going on with him? Who was he? Was he a man who kneeled before others and let them take anything they wanted? Bobby pushed the thoughts away. This is what Angelo was trying to do, make him question himself. He was just biding his time. Playing along with Angelo. That was all.
“You can take that plug out any time,” Angelo said with a smirk.
“I can?”
“On the condition you understand that it coming out means my cock going in. Removing the plug gives me permission to fuck you.”
Bobby’s eyes widened. “What… Angelo…” He wanted to appeal to Angelo’s better nature, but this man had no better nature.
“My cock, stretching your asshole,” Angelo clarified. “Nice and long and deep. Nice and hard. You’ll be my boy then, won’t you, Bobby?”
Bobby’s cock twitched. Fuck. The dark arousal was rising in him. Everything Angelo said and thought was utterly filthy. Utterly without redemption.
“You’ll wear a condom?”
Angelo’s grin widened. “Do I need to, boy? Have you been giving your asshole up to other men?”
“Fuck you,” Bobby swore, getting to his feet. He might be naked and plugged, but he had his limits. He wasn’t sure quite where they were anymore, but he was fairly certain they still existed in some form or other.
“Pride will get you hurt, boy,” Angelo said warningly, not bothering to rise from the desk.
He could have punched Angelo right in the face, but instead Bobby reached back, took hold of the flared base of the plug and pulled. It was impossible not to wince as the thicker part of it stretched his asshole again on the way out - and Angelo didn’t fail to notice that. He let out a derisive laugh as Bobby pulled the plug from his rear and threw the stinking rubber thing down between Angelo’s feet.
“One hell of a gauntlet, boy. Didn’t know you were so eager to be fucked.”
“You’re not going to fuck m…” Bobby didn’t even get to finish the sentence.
Angelo moved with the speed of a predator. He grabbed Bobby by the back of the neck and slammed him down against the desk. Hell, he was strong. Way stronger than Bobby gave him credit for.
“I told you what would happen if you took that plug out, didn’t I?” He breathed the words against the back of Bobby’s neck, holding him down while he fiddled with his belt and fly with his other hand.
Bobby tried to push up, but Angelo slammed him back down, using his larger bulk to devastating effect.
“You knew,” Angelo repeated. “I just told you, boy. You asked for this.”
“Let me fucking go, Angelo,” Bobby growled, pushing back again. He bucked across the desk, sending papers flying, but Angelo kept a hold of him and even as he struggled, pushed the thick head of his cock against Bobby’s asshole, keeping it right there at the squirming star.
“That’s the last thing you want me to do,” Angelo said, clamping his hand hard at the back of Bobby’s neck. “You want me inside you, don’t you. Say it.”
