Chapter Text
Recently things have started to change in ways that Whitney would have never expected. Perhaps because it’s caught him so off guard, he’s found himself more and more pissed off about the situation. Totally breaking someone’s resolve and turning them into his own personal slut should be gratifying, but instead, he’s found himself more perturbed than anything else.
Kylar had been his favorite victim, playing his part differently than the rest of the losers at the school. Not only was he genuinely the biggest loser there was in the first place, he also had the audacity to pull shit like bringing knives to school, even trying to use them against him. Despite Kylar’s hand shaking when he holds the weapon in his grip, the fact that someone had the balls to lift one to Whitney’s face at all really enthused the blonde.
Things changed, though. Now when Whitney grabs him, Kylar leans into the touch, as if reveling in the attention of the rough treatment. Now when Whitney shoves him to the ground on his knees, the stare that Kylar gives him is one of reverence, not hatred or anger. Now when Whitney uses his throat, Kylar makes a mess drooling all over him like an animal, enthusiastically sucking him off.
The total domination should feel good, having Kylar under him and turning into a total slut at the switch of a button that Whitney is the one pressing should make him feel like he’s on top of the world, but it didn’t.
The dude was a freak, really. There was no way in Hell that Whitney could actually enjoy the way that Kylar trembled under his fingers, moaned like no one was watching, and listened to his every demand, hanging on each word like it was gospel. Despite that…
The first time Whitney brought his lips to Kylar’s felt like it was out of his control. Even though he was the one holding Kylar down, pressing him against the railing of the school roof, it felt like Kylar was leading him to his open, gasping mouth. Moaning just for him, egging him on, dragging him in, pulling him down with the neediness he was radiating until they lips finally met.
Whitney could tell that Kylar had never kissed anyone before, his teeth clacking against his in excitement as Whitney tried to keep him still. Taking his first time felt good, and he wanted more of it, despite the growing pit in his stomach. These thoughts have plagued him nonstop, no matter how he tries to escape them.
Even now, rain drizzling down onto his umbrella from above as he leans against the fountain, he’s trying his damndest to keep his thoughts away from Kylar. It just. wasn’t. working.
The smaller boy had been approaching him, asking for it, really. During lunch he would come up to the roof instead of eating in the canteen, letting Whitney do whatever he wanted to him. Something about it all just makes him feel off.
So, Whitney started avoiding the brunette. Even having to go so far as to shake him off his arm, shove him away and leave him there. It’s easy to tell that Kylar doesn’t like that. The hysteria he saw in Kylar’s eyes today as he did it again… it almost made him feel bad.
Even now he knows that the chance of Kylar popping up is high--perhaps he’s too obvious, always using the park as his getaway, as the boy had been visiting him recently even when he’s trying to get away from it all. Today, however, the brunette isn’t anywhere in sight. The relief brings a sigh to his lips, smoke billowing after taking a drag.
It’s too late that the hair on the back of his neck raises. It’s too late that he feels sharp eyes boring down on him. By the time he notices that someone is watching him, there’s already a sharp pain in his neck. Without thinking he reaches up to touch what bit him, just to find a dart. Something familiar nowadays, since recently people who harassed him on the street had been falling victim to the same thing.
That’s the last thought on his mind before his hand on the fountain slips and he falls forward, someone’s clammy, small hands catching him and struggling to keep him upright before he hits the ground.
When Whitney finally wakes up, he’s in a dark room with a small window above him trickling in gray dull light from the still dreary, rainy day outside. It illuminates a room full of chairs and spare desks, including a teacher’s desk that sits in front of him now. Dust covers almost everything, and he assumes he’s in the basement of the school.
Everything below his neck is still a little numb as he peers around at his surroundings, only coming to realize that he’s tied up when he tries to move his arms ahead of him. Then his feet, tied to the chair below him. He’s in quite a predicament here.
The door opens suddenly from behind him, bright light from the hall above filling the room. Whitney’s head whips around to see who’s coming in, the hope that it’s someone who will help him dying as the door shuts behind them. It isn’t until they step out in front of the desk ahead of him that Whitney’s spinning head can recognize it’s Kylar.
There’s something in his hands, covered in a white sheet, that he sits on the desk in front of Whitney. “You’re awake, good! Everything’s--”
“What the fuck is going on, you piece of shit?” Whitney grimaces from the way his head throbs at the sound of his own voice, but continues nonetheless, words a little slurred. “What do you think you’re doing? Do you know what’s coming to you when I--”
Kyler rounds the table with a little smile, pulling out his knife. It glints in the light of the window, before slicing across a roll of duct tape that Kylar pulls off and covers Whitney’s mouth with, mid-sentence.
“It's okay, Whitney… you're just a little frustrated since you haven't been able to let it out on me recently, right?” Kylar beams at him as if he cracked a code, and Whitney shakes his head and tries disagreeing but his voice is muffled by the duct tape.
Kylar pulls out a laptop, setting it on the same desk in front of them. “Aren't you going to feel so much better now that you're able to be with me again?” Kylar asks as if Whitney can answer, but even before he can make noises of disagreement Kylar presses a button on his laptop and Whitney's voice rings out.
“I'll feel better after fucking you,” comes out of the laptop, sharp and clear, but disjointed as if every word had been individually recorded and pieced together.
“S-so assertive, as always, Whitney…” Kylar visibly shivers, his hair is a mess and his eyes hectic. “Before that…”
Kylar moves to the other side of the table, lifting the sheet to reveal a white wedding cake. “The vicar will be here soon, and everything will be official…”
Whitney shakes his head in disbelief, continuing to do so as Kylar asks him if they can get a head start on their honeymoon. This all felt like a nightmare, but the feeling of the rope digging into Whitney's wrists as he struggles reminds him it's all real.
“I'm going to fuck you all night long,” Whitney's voice rings out again from the laptop, as crisp and creepily disjointed as the first time. Another shiver strikes through Kylar as he walks up to Whitney, grinning from ear to ear.
“Y-You can do whatever you want to me, Whitney.” Despite Kylar’s stuttering, he confidently moves to unbutton Whitney’s pants, falling to his knees in front of the blonde. He presses his hand down against the zipper, gently rubbing Whitney through his school trousers, before unzipping them and pulling them down.
Whitney growls deep in his throat, but it goes ignored. Kylar’s fingers gingerly lift Whitney’s soft cock, his breath ghosting over the skin. Whitney shivers, intensely watching the boy below him as he sticks out his tongue and starts licking at the tip of his dick.
Despite having been used many times by now by Whitney, fellatio still isn’t something Kylar feels entirely confident about. Especially when before he was being presented with a fully hard erection, now he has to start from the beginning.
Kylar continues to gently lick Whitney, from tip to base then back up, drooling over him when he goes to envelope the tip in his mouth. Kylar moves his unsteady hands to under his mouth, gathering some spit there and then stroking Whitney’s dick along with his mouth ministrations.
With his mouth wrapped around the tip of Whitney’s dick, he massages the sensitive glans there, playing with his foreskin. Slowly but surely Whitney starts to get hard, and Kylar sits back on the heels of his feet to watch it happen.
Kylar strokes up and down, slick hands bringing Whitney's cock to life. Whitney breathes heavily through his nose, glaring down at Kylar as the shorter one meets his gaze, staring up at him and back to his twitching dick with adoration in his eyes.
“There we go,” Kylar lets out quietly, almost tearfully. “I-I knew it, knew I could do it… Knew you still wanted me, Whitney.”
Whitney closes his eyes, furrowing his brow. It was so difficult to not feel bad for him, especially since this was technically his fault. Not just the fact that Kylar felt the need to bring him here like this, but for the fact he had cracked Kylar at all.
He was the one who had turned Kylar into this type of whore, using him and abusing him until he had fallen into this route. Despite that, he was still frustrated by his restraints—not that he would apologize if his mouth was free, anyhow.
Kylar pulls out a little bottle.
“I know you really wouldn't do this, b-but, I want to consummate our marriage properly…” he says, squirting lube into his hands before rubbing them together to warm it up. Once done, he takes Whitney's cock in both hands and rubs the lube over him, bringing a shudder through the blonde.
One hand slips away as the other continues working Whitney to full hardness, slipping between his legs and down his pants (he hasn't worn underwear since the day Whitney told him not to) so he could lube his hole as well. Kylar had already prepared a lot in advance, wanting to be ready for when Whitney eventually went the whole way, but he had started avoiding him instead.
Now they don't have to worry about that. They just need to get on with this and continue as everything was before, perfect as it was. Kylar moves his hand from Whitney's cock and his own hole, wiping both hands on his shirt before he gets up on Whitney's lap, anchoring himself on the blonde’s shoulders.
“Here we go… I-It's my first time, just for you.” Kylar reaches between them, holding himself up on his tippy toes, grasping the base of Whitney's cock so it sticks straight up.
With one fell swoop Kylar moves down, but instead of going in, Whitney's lubed cock slips up Kylar’s ass checks. The breath Kylar was holding rockets out in frustration, and Whitney shakes his head vigorously, audibly berating him from beyond the tape.
“S-Sorry, I'll do better this time,” Kylar says pitifully, and Whitney takes this chance to knock their heads together, hard. Not hard enough to knock Kylar off, though, just hard enough that he really gets his attention.
Why doesn't he just knock him off? He isn't sure. But the knock works, and Kylar reaches a shaky, damp hand up to remove the duct tape. “D-don't yell, okay?”
Whitney closes his eyes for a moment once his mouth is free, grinding his teeth in annoyance. “You're going to fucking hurt us both if you do that. Just put it in slowly, you damn slut.”
Kylar looks at him with wide, deranged eyes. He looks so feral like this, hair a mess, bottom half bare, fingers damp and his mouth agape. Whitney shakes his head and sneers at him.
“Hurry up already you stupid whore. If I wasn't tied up you'd really regret getting me all riled up, you know that? I wouldn't give you the chance to have something gentle. So just get on with it already.” Whitney's rambling, he knows that, but it doesn't matter. All that matters right now is that he gets his dick wet with this loser virgin.
Full on absolute adoration meets Whitney, Kylar grinning from ear to ear again with a big dopey smile. It almost makes him want to slam his head into the brunette's again, but he resists. “I said hurry up!”
Kylar fumbles for a second, grabbing Whitney's unflagged erection again, then positioning himself. This time he sinks down slower, taking the tip into his very tight virgin ass. Whitney leans his head forward onto Kylar's shoulder and groans at the pressure.
“That's it, you fucking slut,” Whitney says, rocking his hips forward. The motion is gentle, if only because he's stuck to a chair. “Come on.”
Kylar drops himself even lower, taking more and more into his prepped ass, but the squeeze is still tight. Not only is Kylar a virgin, but Whitney is notably bigger than any of the toys he had used so far.
Little noises of discomfort escape from Kylar's lips as he steadies himself on his feet. Whitney's only sat half way into him at this point, but he needs a break. Whitney won't let him rest, though.
With his feet tied he can't do much, but he does his best. Thrusting his hips up, he inches himself deeper into the pliant boy above him. “There we go, that's better, slut. Take it.” Kylar groans, mostly in discomfort.
Whitney leans forward and sinks his teeth into the skin of Kylar's shoulder. Kylar shouts out in pain this time, but Whitney's name slips out of his lips afterward. Reverence, he knows he'll take anything and everything Whitney will give him.
Kylar's nails dig into Whitney's shoulders, tears pricking his eyes from a mixture of frustration, joy, and pain. When Whitney pulls back, Kylar leans forward, eyes closed, mouth open. Still so new to this…
Whitney relents easily, immediately taking advantage of Kylar's open mouth by forcing his tongue into it and exploring sloppily. Kylar moans in utter bliss around the appendage, trying his best to retaliate.
It may not have been on purpose but this served as a good distraction so that Kylar could get used to Whitney's size inside him. Drool drips down Kylar's chin from the kiss, messy and uncoordinated as ever.
“You're such a disgusting fucking loser,” Whitney says when he pulls back, catching his breath. Kylar's chest heaves from the kiss and it makes Whitney smirk, the guy is just so damn inexperienced.
That reminds him. Whitney presses his hips upward again, causing Kylar to gasp. The slip is much easier this time, and Kylar seems to lose some balance that makes his hips fall all the way down until Whitney is snugly full within him.
Kylar's mouth hangs agape in juxtaposition to Whitney's grin. “Finally, slut. Feels good, doesn't it? You were born to take cock, weren't you? You're fucking welcome.” Whitney runs his mouth like he isn't currently fully tied to a chair.
A tear drips down Kylar's already moist face, that dopey grin coming back to him slowly. Moving one of his hands from Whitney's shoulder to his stomach, he feels for a bulge there. “Whitney's inside me, here…”
Kylar's hole tenses and Whitney jumps, groaning. “C'mon already you slut, get moving. Can't tell you how lucky you are that I can't move. I'd make you really cry, got that? I'd fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to move for days.”
With a heaviness to his movements, Kylar steadies himself again on Whitney's shoulders. Then he lifts himself up a little, before dropping back down. Whitney sighs in frustration. If only he wasn't tied up…
“Come on, slut. You can do better than this. Don't you want me to feel good, you fucking freak? Do it properly.” Whitney humps up as hard as he can, until Kylar whimpers.
“Y-yes, Whitney…” Kylar mumbles before continuing. There's real effort, now, rocking his hips up and down, his own cock swaying between them at his movements.
He locks his legs and lifts himself again, higher this time, then quickly moves himself back down over Whitney's length before doing it again, then again. The motion is difficult in the chair, but he's dedicated to making Whitney feel good.
Whitney continues to move his hips into Kylar's movements, almost wanting to praise him. If he wasn't such a freak… then maybe he'd be something close to cute right now, working so hard to pleasure Whitney.
Kylar moves his hips a bit, angling them backward as he moves himself up and down as well as he can on Whitney's cock. Finally a moan escapes his mouth with a sudden forcefulness, as if he's shocked.
“R-right there,” he says, mouth hanging open in utter pleasure. He must have gotten lots of practice finding his prostate so far, when he was preparing himself for Whitney. The boy rocks his hips a few times to feel Whitney's cock shove against that spot over and over until Whitney growls.
“Don't just get yourself off you selfish whore.”
Kylar nods enthusiastically in response, continuing his previous motions but this time with a different angle. The way the tip of his dick scrapes up Kylar's walls feels incredible, honestly, there's nothing better than a virgin ass.
Whitney unknowingly slips out a praise for the shorter boy, “There you go, good job.”
Kylar's dick twitches in response, precum already collecting on the tip. He's never been someone who could last long, and he can tell he won't be this time.
“Pathetic,” Whitney sneers at him, rotating his hips as well as he can in his position, hoping to push on Kylar's prostate so he can get him all overwhelmed. “Gonna cum just from getting your ass railed for the first time? Just from that, you a bitch in heat?”
Kylar open-mouth moans at the degradation. A hand slips from Whitney's shoulder again to instead wrap around his cock, rubbing it hard and fast. “Who said you could touch yourself, slut?”
The brunette's hand hesitates, trembling, and he looks at Whitney through his bangs. “I…” His ministrations stop entirely, but he continues to rock his hips on Whitney's dick to feel it move inside him. A low “ahh” escapes his mouth as he does.
“Ask me properly.” Whitney glares down at him through his fringe, his own hair a mess from the kidnapping. Kylar shivers, keeping his hand on his cock but making certain not to move.
“P-Please… Whitney… C-Can I touch myself?” Kylar's face turns red as he asks, hand twitching awaiting his response.
Whitney smiles at him, leaning in and ghosting his breath over the brunette's face, making sure they're making eye contact. “No. Now get back to work you dumb slut.”
Kylar groans, slowly moving his trembling hand from his cock back to Whitney's shoulder. Whitney smiles, then thrusts his hips so hard the chair rocks forward and they lift up off the chair.
“I said get back to work!”
Kylar nods quickly, going back to moving his hips. His motions are stunted, almost like he can barely control himself anymore now. He lifts himself up and slides back down as well as he can, tears welling up in his eyes.
“I'm gonna…” Kylar starts, rocking his hips forward. “Can't…”
“Don't even think about cumming before me!” Whitney growls, face close to Kylar's. “You're supposed to be making me feel good here, aren't you? What a horrible fucking honey moon.”
Kylar's shoulders shake as he continues to take Whitney's cock, a sob ripping out of his mouth as he does it. “I can't help it…” He moans out.
Kylar rocks forward, once, twice, three times, grinding Whitney's cock against his prostate. Then he's leaning forward, wrapping his arms around Whitney's neck, burying his head in his own arm and groaning unabashedly in Whitney's ear.
“You better not…” Whitney starts, but it's too late. Kylar's cumming before he can properly threaten him, the feeling of his hot spunk covering his school shirt and making it stick to his skin.
“You worthless, pitiful piece of shit.” Whitney grinds his teeth together, Kylar's virgin ass clamping down on him as he cums. It isn't enough to send Whitney over the edge, just enough to make him feel like he's close. He didn't get to cum.
“When I get these restraints off me you're going to fucking regret everything. Do you hear me?” Kylar barely hears him, ears ringing, breath coming out laboured and hard. It's going to take him a minute to get moving, he thinks, but then…
Whitney doesn't let him rest. He rocks his hips hard again, into the tight heat of Kylar's ass, likely milking his prostate. Kylar's cock twitches as more cum spurts out from the rocking, and he moans wantonly at the action as well.
“W-Wait, don't, Whitney…” He doesn't listen. He continues rocking his hips, chasing his own orgasm. It doesn't come, though—it takes all his energy to shove up against Kylar through his restraints and it isn't giving enough friction.
“Hurry up, slut!” He shouts angrily, pulling his head back and away from Kylar.
Kylar takes a deep breath, lifting himself up, before totally sliding off of Whitney's dick and backing away from him. His legs are shaking, and he only stays standing long enough to piss Whitney off.
“This is a fucking joke, isn't it? You freak, you damn whore, when I fucking get my hands on you…” Kylar ignores him, dropping down onto his knees in front of Whitney.
“You didn't get off… Let me take care of you.” Whitney would have kicked him in the stomach if he could, at the first part, but Kylar quickly opens his mouth and slips Whitney's cock back into his mouth.
If Whitney can give Kylar anything, it's that honestly, his mouth is heavenly. So wet, soft, and he takes it so well. Whitney's always been a man who loves fucking someone's mouth, and even though Kylar was new to it, he came to it with fervor after just a few choking sessions.
Hah, must have practiced in his own time. Kylar quickly sinks his mouth fully over Whitney's dick, taking his entire erection down to the base with ease. Once there, he licks the underside of Whitney's erection, teasing the veins there.
Then, he pulls back up. That must be nice—usually, Whitney would hold him down and fuck his throat. Can't really do that right now, though. Kylar takes this freedom to lick and kiss Whitney's tip, lavishing extra attention to it.
Kylar slides down and presses his tongue to the base of Whitney's cock, then slowly drags it all the way back up to his tip. He does this a few times before wrapping his mouth back around his erection.
Whitney groans in pleasure at all the ministrations, even letting out a gasp he'd refuse to the ends of the earth when Kylar squeezes his balls gently. The boy starts rubbing them with one hand, the other hand squeezing the base of Whitney's cock.
With one hand taking up a portion of Whitney’s dick, Kylar starts on a rhythm of moving his mouth up and down on the rest of it, easier to take that much than all of it. While sucking him off he continues to massage his balls as well, trying really hard to pleasure him.
Whitney honestly can't stand under the ministrations, Kylar is really, really good at giving head now. Especially when he's in a familiar element. Whitney groans, hips rocking into that soft heat. Wish he could be fucking Kylar's mouth right now.
Kylar purrs in response, making Whitney realize he said that last part aloud. Ugh. He shakes his head with a “Whatever…” and closes his eyes, unable to keep eye contact with the boy below him looking up at him with utter adoration.
Kylar continues to moan around Whitney's cock, the vibrations driving him absolutely crazy. When he's finally about to cum, he doesn't warn Kylar, but the boy must have clued in by the bucking of his hips.
The brunette squeezes his balls firmly, fastening his pace on Whitney's cock with his hand and mouth until Whitney is twitching in his mouth, precum filling his every sense.
Finally, Whitney presses up hard and cums in Kylar's mouth, who for all his worth swallows it down like he was made to do so. “Yessss, that's it, whore… Take it all.”
And he does. Kylar works him over and sucks down every last drop, pulling off with a little pop and even licking his lips for good measure. Every ounce of Whitney totally inside him.
“God, you're such a slut, you know that?” Whitney lets out a long exhale, he really needs a smoke. His body slumps forward, held up by his restraints.
“Let me out already—” Whitney begins to demand, but the door opens again. Kylar looks up and sees the vicar, so he hastily pulls Whitney's pants back up and makes him presentable, if not a little worse for wear with his hair a mess and his clothes stained.
Whitney blinks. “And who the fuck are you?” he barks as the man groggily makes his way down the stairs. Kylar is putting his pants back on, then sliding his shoes back on as he answers. “He's here to make it official, Whitney!”
Whitney looks between the man and Kylar, before his eyes settle between them on the cake that still rests on the desk. “Oh fuck no,” he begins, but he doesn't get very far.
Duct tape is back over his mouth before he knows it, Kylar's fingers softly caressing his cheek as he pulls away. “Don't worry, I've got everything figured out.”
The vicar looks between them both and then shrugs, figuring this is some sort of kinky play between the two instead of a kidnapping kind of thing. Both a reasonable and unreasonable assumption, considering where they live. The dude slurs his words when he talks, anyway.
“Let's make this quick, huh?”
Kylar nods enthusiastically, and the vicar begins to read the marriage rites. Honestly, Whitney is dumbfounded. How exactly did he even get into this situation, and how the fuck was he going to get out of it?
Staring at the man, he hears his own voice say “I do,” from the computer and then Kylar repeats it for himself. Whitney is about to protest from behind his duct tape, but he's given no time.
The door slams open again and there's police and a woman behind them storming down the steps. “There he is! The cake thief!” The police surround Kylar.
“I know this kid,” says one of the officers, “repeat offender, huh? Let's get you down to the station.”
Whitney would give a full body sigh of relief if he could. At the same time, watching Kylar get dragged away leaves a tightness in his chest that he didn't expect.
Once Kylar has been taken from the room, the police finally step over to Whitney and let him free. Whitney takes a few deep breaths now that his mouth is free again, steps up and stretches. He's gonna be fucking sore that's for sure.
He can't wait to not have to see that freak for a while.