The Wannabe CoverThe Wannabe

The kid kissed him. On the mouth. In the middle of a goddamn bar.

Red fucking kissed him, Jesus Christ on a fucking cross.

Bad couldn’t sleep. He tossed, he turned, he jerked off. He tossed and turned some more, then forced himself to stop thinking about what Red had done, and start thinking about how he was gonna get Little Red back, because payback was a motherfucking bitch, and Little Red was about to learn his lesson.

How dare he kiss Bad? How dare he surprise him so fucking much that Bad kissed back before he even knew he was doing it!

Bad plotted and schemed and pictured the whole goddamn thing in his head, exactly how he’d get Red back, and when, and where, and then he whacked off again.

He paced the booth all morning, waiting, waiting, ignoring the work for his classes, ignoring anything non-essential for security, grateful as all hell that the booth wasn’t in the main office, crawling with people.

Ten minutes before it was time for lunch, he disconnected camera three and pulled off his Campus Safety shirt. There. Preliminaries taken care of. Everything else he needed would already be in the mail room.

He went down the back way, where he wouldn’t be noticed. Did he look like a creepy stalker? Maybe. Didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except putting Red in his place and Bad knew exactly how he was gonna do it.

He heard the metal rolling shutter clang down and had his Hub master key already out when he reached the back door. It took fifteen seconds to unlock, open the door, and step inside.

“What the fuck?” the wannabe said. “We’re closed, man, how did you—”

Red froze, in the process of plugging his ear thing into his ear, the thing that made it so he could hear Bad’s text messages.

They stared at each other for a long fucking minute while the wannabe talked gibberish. Then Red slid to his knees, dropping the ear thing, and Bad stepped up closer, taking him by the hair and pressing his cheek against Bad’s hard-on, enjoying the shit out of the way Red’s eyes shut and he sighed.

“What’s your name, kid?” Bad said, eyeing the wannabe, who was now just staring at them, like he couldn’t fucking believe this was happening.

“Tony. The fuck do you care?”

“Tony’s a little boy’s name. What’s your name, kid?”

Tony glanced over at Red, but Red wasn’t looking at him. Red was in cockland, not just letting Bad move his head, actually using his own fucking face on Bad’s cock like that’s all he wanted in the world. “It’s Anthony. Amoroso.”

“Well, Anthony, Red and I need to have a little nonverbal conversation right now, and judging by how much time you spend staring at his ass, my guess is you wouldn’t mind watching, so sit your butt in that chair and shut your goddamn mouth.”

Tony fell backwards into the chair, jaw dropped. “But who are you?”

“I said shut your mouth.”

He shut his mouth.

Good. Phase one, complete. Bad tugged Red’s head back and looked down. “Your friend gonna be all right or should I kick him out so he doesn’t have a heart attack?”

“He’s all right, sir,” Red murmured.

“What’s that?”

“He’s all right, sir.” Louder, good. That’s right. Show him what you are, boy. I’ve got you.

He cranked Red’s neck back until he was looking straight up into Bad’s face. “You little cunt. Don’t ever run away from me again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That was a bullshit move, Little Red. That was a fucking bullshit move, and the next time you try to pull something like that I’m tying you up and storing you in my closet until I feel like using you again. Got that?”

Red’s eyes flashed. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Bad let go. “Take off your shirt.”

Seeing the room in person, as opposed to on screen, skewed his depth perception. The little tray where they kept the binder clips was bigger in real life, and so were the clips. He tested one of the larger ones on his finger and whistled.

“Fucking hell, Red. You’re a goddamn pain slut.”

Red, shirtless now, vest and shirt stowed out of the way in a heap on his bag, swallowed and looked up.

“What, Red?”

“I keep some in that drawer. I looked up different—I stretched them out, only a little.”

“Huh.” Against the rules because Bad hadn’t approved it, but he would have, if he’d known how fucking tight the springs were on these things. He found the modified ones and decided he’d forgive the kid; these weren’t much looser, but the bite at the end was a little more relaxed. “Gotta get you some good adjustable clamps, Red. So I can tighten the screws until you scream.”

Tony, fucking wannabe Tony, gasped. “Fuck, Red, you let him talk to you like that?”

Red dropped his gaze, shoulders rounding just a little. He didn’t respond, though, which was good, because it wasn’t his place to engage pain in the ass little fuckers like wannabe Tony.

That was Bad’s job.

He spun and landed his boot on the seat of the chair, right at fucking crotch level. “Did I tell you to keep your mouth shut?”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts, you little psycho. Keep your fucking mouth shut, from here on out. Red doesn’t need to hear your fucking commentary about his life, and the next time you decide to share it, I’m gonna take away your VIP pass. Got that?”

The kid nodded.

“Good.”

Red was looking worse for wear, so Bad pulled his hair so hard he felt some of the strands give, and looked down into his face again.

“Ask me first next time you go modifying shit. But this time I’m gonna let it slide because the binder clips we have upstairs aren’t this fucking tight, so I didn’t know what you were dealing with.”

“Yes, sir,” Red said, tears standing in his eyes. Not good tears, either. Not pain tears or humiliation tears. Not yet.

Fucking Tony better shape the hell up or Bad was gonna have to hunt him down later. He was supposed to be the best part of this little outing, but right now he was just fucking it up.

Bad grabbed one of the special clips and ran it over Red’s left nipple until he had a hard little nub to work with. “Nice, Red. Fuck, the things I want to do to these tits of yours.” More, more, watching Red’s face so he’d know when he hit the line of too much and crossed over.

There, right there, body going rigid, back arching, seconds away from begging.

Bad switched to the other nipple.

When he had Red panting and gnawing on his lips, he actually put the clips on, grinning down as Red hissed in pain, saying, “Fuck yes, you like that, don’t you, slut? You like it when I hurt you.”

“Yes—yes, sir,” Red said, breathing hard. “Yes, sir, I like it when you hurt me.”

“Get up, bend over the desk, pull down your pants.”

Red’s eyes slid shut for longer than a breath.

“Now, Red.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bad picked up the wooden ruler he’d had Red smack himself with and surveyed the wannabe, whose big fucking eyes and gobsmacked expression made it clear he was taking all of this in. Yeah. That’s right, asshole.

His little wannabe prick was a hard lump of coal in his skater shorts and Bad had to restrain himself from thumping it with the ruler.

“Anthony, you got a way to play music or something? Maybe on your phone?”

Nod, fumbling in his pocket, which appeared to make his little prick feel good, since he kept at it.

Today, Anthony. Turn on something with a loud bass line, and turn it up high as it’ll go.”

Tony had a nice, expensive, top-of-the-line phone, and the music that pumped out of it was more than loud enough to cover what Bad had in mind.

He turned back to Red, all pale, marks almost completely healed now. “Gonna need to whip you again soon,” he said, slapping the kid’s ass.

“Yes, sir.”

“You stay up late at night, thinking about me whipping your bubble butt with my switch, Red?”

Hesitation. Bad slapped him again.

“Yes, sir.” The kid’s voice was lower now.

“We talked about the rules, Red, and you broke one of them last night. You left without saying goodbye. How many do you get for that? How many times should I spank you with the ruler for breaking that rule?”

“Um—six, sir?”

“You asking me or telling me?”

“Six. Please spank me six times for breaking the rules, sir.”

“Yeah, I think that sounds about right. Spread your legs.”

Red spread them to the limits of the pants around his ankles and waited, breathing harshly against the desk.

“I fucking like these balls.” Bad reached out and squeezed, making Red’s body jerk. “Yeah, these are some nice, sensitive baby boy balls right here.” He tugged Red’s sac back so Tony could see it, then tapped it a few times lightly with the ruler. Not enough to hurt, just enough to scare.

Tony crossed his fucking legs.

“No.” Bad pointed at him with the ruler. “Fuck you, kid. Arms on the arms of the chair, legs apart. I ain’t gonna touch you, but you don’t get to hide like a pussy little straight boy afraid of his goddamn shadow.”

He gave Red’s balls a little love with his fingers while he watched Tony do what he said, then patted them back to the front of Red’s body and nudged his legs together.

“Yeah, look at this. I missed all the best parts, with the bruises, and the torn skin. We’ll have to do that again soon, because I gotta go light on you today so I don’t break the ruler.”

“Sorry, sir,” Red mumbled.

Fucking little punk. He gave him two quick ones with the ruler, to show him exactly how different it was when it wasn’t you trying to smack your own ass, and said, “You gonna be mouthy, Red?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Let’s get started.” He aimed all six on those nice pale orbs of ass, coming down as hard as he dared, and he did them fast. There was more to this fucking show, and he had to cram it all into a lunch hour. Look at those fucking welts, already rising. Bad pinched and twisted and tortured the welts until Red was a panting, whimpering mess against the desk.

“Yeah, that’s nice, Red. That’s real nice. Those feel good, boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Red said, voice all weepy.

“What was that?”

Red cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. They feel good.”

“That’s right.” Bad reached over to the jar of pens and pulled out a Sharpie. “Job for you, Anthony. Stick this in your mouth and get it nice and wet.” He tossed it in the kid’s lap (he jumped like he’d been shocked, and Bad congratulated himself on his aim). “Do it, Anthony, Jesus, we don’t have all day.”

Yeah, he wanted to know why, and to argue, and to bitch, but he wanted to watch, too, so he stuck the pen in his mouth for a second and pulled it out.

“Better than that, boy. Fuck. This is how you assholes screw straight women out of anal sex. No fucking appreciation for lube. Or stretching. Slick it up, Anthony.” Bad grabbed a handful of Red’s hair and pulled his face around to watch. “You see that, boy? You see what your little friend’s doing? You know where that’s going?”

You know where it’s been?

Red’s Adam’s apple jumped as he swallowed. “My ass, sir?”

“It’s going in your ass. I’m gonna fuck your little hole with that pen. You like the sound of that, Red? It ain’t that big, so I’m gonna have to work real hard so you’ll feel it.”

Red gulped again.

“Hand it over, Anthony. You should think about blowing Red at lunch one of these days. I think you might have a gift.” The kid flushed, but he wasn’t looking at Bad, he was looking at Red, down again over the desk, ass high.

Better. The boy might not be a complete waste after all.

Damn, fucking only twenty minutes left. Bunch of goddamn bullshit.

Bad smacked Red’s ass again, wishing he had the time to make it bright fuckin’ rosy pink. Red would look damn good with a bright red baboon ass, and the next time they were somewhere private with lights, he was gonna test that theory.

“Show us your hole, Red.”

Red took a few breaths before reaching back, half-heartedly pulling on his cheeks.

Another good smack to the thighs. “Do it right.”

This time Red took two good handfuls and pulled, and the wannabe’s pop tent shorts were fixing to burst.

“Good boy, Red. You’ll be earning yourself some more stripes the next time you fuck up something you know I want.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Bad reached around and used his hands over Red’s, playing his thumbs right outside the little closed-up hole, twisting it and turning it, opening and closing it. “Damn, boy, I think your pussy is winking at me. It looks hungry. Is it hungry, little Red?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir, what?” Bad demanded, still playing with his hole.

“Yes, sir, my—my pussy is hungry, sir.”

“Yeah, poor little pussy wants a cock, but I’m not giving it a cock, Red.” He put out his hand and Anthony finally removed the Sharpie from his mouth. “No, that pussy doesn’t get cock. But that’s all right. Hungry little boy-pussy will eat anything, won’t it, Red?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yeah, it will. You got a good view over there, Anthony?”

The kid was fucking riveted, nodding.

“Yeah, well, don’t be getting any ideas. This here boy pussy belongs to me, and you’re gonna have to get your own if you want someplace to stick that pole you got in your tent, there.”

The wannabe shifted in his seat. How’s the blueballs, punk?

Bad used his fingers to spread Red’s ass open a little more and pressed the pen in at a steep angle, blowing out the sides of his hole as far as he could before running into too much ass cheek to keep pushing. Up, down, side to side, careful not to push in too much.

“That hole is fucking ravenous, Red. You should feed this fucker more often. How many pens you got in this place?” He leaned over Red’s back, compressing him hard, and grabbed three other Sharpies. “Yeah, this is better. Lube ’em up, Anthony. Make them nice and wet so I can feed this hungry hole.”

Wannabe Tony worked a hell of a lot faster this time, and Bad made him hold the fourth pen in his mouth while Red’s hole opened up fucking sweetly for the first three. “Oh my god, Red, you’re a motherfucking pen holder right now. Push out so I can feel you.” The three pens pushed against his fingers as Red bore down. Fuck, that would feel so good on his fingers in this deep. It’d feel even better on his cock, milking him, giving him a good prick-massage. He could shove in all the way, make the kid hold still, only tensing the muscles in his ass so Bad could feel it.

He shook himself and fucked Red a few more times with the Sharpies.

“Give me that, Tony. This is how you stretch a hole, Tony. Use your fucking fingers and stretch it out real good before you put your stupid little college boy clit in there.” Bad pressed the three pens that were already inside Red apart until they spread his hole open a little, then forced the fourth one inside, deeper than the others.

Red squirmed, making a sound into his arm.

“Quit moving. You think you can hold these pens in your pussy while I give you a few more with the ruler, boy?”

Red’s ass contracted just on hearing the words, trying to suck in Sharpies. The three on the outside stayed put, but that fourth one was gonna be a problem, trying to escape.

Bad contemplated the problem, one eye on the clock. What the hell, it’s not like the pen was gonna kill the kid if he was stuck with it in his ass for a few hours. Bad could always remove it later.

With one finger, making certain Tony could see, he shoved the fourth pen all the way in, till the other three closed in around it. Then he gave Red a good smack to the thigh, watching the pens.

“Let go, Red. Brace yourself. And keep those fucking pens in.”

He was careful at first, navigating around the pens and wishing like hell they were an actual plug, so he could whale away without worrying. Soon, he promised himself. But he warmed up quick and fucked Red’s ass up until he couldn’t put off leaving any longer.

“Hell, Red. Down, boy.” He pressed on Red’s back until he was flat again and extracted the first three pens without an issue. Fuck. “Give me number four, Red. Come on, push it out.”

Bad’s cock strained against his fucking khakis, watching that goddamn Sharpie emerge from Red’s hole. The fucking kid grunted.

“Yeah, good boy. Good, Red, real good.” Bad dumped the pens into the trash and yanked Red’s pants up. “You did good, Red.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Up, now. This is gonna fucking burn like fire, boy. You ready for the clips to come off?”

“Yes, sir.” But he wasn’t. He was fucking scared as hell.

Bad put his face right up to Red’s, close enough to kiss, and yanked the first clip off, then the second, watching him fight to keep it together, not to scream, or cry, or beg, face contorted, tears on his cheeks. “Yeah, you’re a good boy,” he said, softer than he meant to. “Go on, make yourself fuckin’ presentable while I chat with your buddy, here.”

Red straightened up, shaking a little, and said, “Yes, sir.”

“So, Anthony.” Bad slammed his boot on the seat of the chair again and leaned down. “I’m sure you appreciate it was real fucking nice of Red to let you watch today, and you wouldn’t want to be a sonofabitch about it and tell anyone about Red’s private life, would you?”

The wannabe cleared his throat. “No. No, sir, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Glad to hear it. Because I would have to find you, Anthony, if you so much as hurt his feelings. You picking up what I’m putting down?”

“Yeah. Yes, sir.”

Bad gave him a long look, just to make sure. “Good. You got three minutes to take a piss and get back here. Go.”

“Uh, well, I don’t actually have to—”

Bad took a step back and crossed his arms again.

“Yeah, three minutes, right. Be—right back.”

The door snapped shut and Red stood there, head down, hands back.

“Hey, genius,” Bad said.

Red looked up.

“I’ll pick you up on the horseshoe at ten. That work for you?”

“Yes, sir.” Red’s eyes were bright now, not from tears, from fucking pride.

Bad took two steps over to him and grabbed his hair again, tilting his head back. “You gonna be okay with Anthony?”

“I think so. You’ll be watching?”

“Red, when you’re on screen, I can’t fucking look anywhere else.” Which was true, but not the kind of thing he was supposed to say out loud. Fuck. He dropped the kid’s hair and waved a hand at the mail room. “Smells like ass in here. You should open that fucking window already.”

Bad got the hell out of there, barely sliding into his chair and re-connecting the feed to camera three before he had to clock back in.

[olympus_box color=”green” float=”center” text_align=”left” width=””] Stay tuned for next week! Jump to Room 111 for the discussion![/olympus_box]