A Boy Who Came In from the Cold Ch. 05

Thierry translated the man's panted instruction as he was ramming himself in. He could moan with pleasure if he liked, but if he screamed again they would have to gag him.

Rayne Wilde clenched his teeth determinedly. If they wanted him to scream they were gonna have to try a damned sight harder. It hurt though, even more than it had hurt the other night at the end of a fifteen-man gang-bang. He slumped across the desk trying to offer as little resistance as he could but he was tight and dry and when he heard Thierry whimpering and realised that the little blond was on his knees getting buggered by the junior Guard, in spite of their promise, his blood boiled. The skinny young man was bucking himself into Thierry's arse with no regard for his pain as the superintendent moved to his head and quieted Thierry's protests with his erection. Rayne closed his eyes, feeling a red mist come down that made him want to kill them all. Thierry might be of age but they had no right to treat him like that. He began to struggle and curse and was slammed against the surface of the desk, a heavy hand slapped between his shoulder blades with such force that he felt his teeth rattle in his mouth. The big man pulled out of his raw passage briefly then rolled him onto his back and struck him hard across the face.

He said something in his own tongue, which Rayne did not understand although he recognised the tone of the instruction all too well. Then his legs were wrenched apart and he was subjected to a second violent act of penetration. Rayne bit down on his lips so fiercely that he was not sure if the blood he tasted was from his mouth or his nose. He was moaning continually as the big man forced himself deeper this time. The rapist spat into his crotch to ease his own entry into the English boy's hole and began to bugger him fast and hard. To Rayne's infinite relief he came very quickly but the relief was not to last.

The big fellow slapped hands with his burly superior, who turned away from Thierry's mouth, letting the blond boy gasp and moan for a while as he was raped on his hands and knees on the floor. The moustachioed superintendent had a big cock, glistening with Thierry's spit and trickling a stream of pre-cum. He wasted no time, quickly hauling Rayne's knees over his shoulders and holding his narrow hips as he probed and penetrated the sexy English lad. It was easier this time; Rayne was wet inside from the balding man's cum and his second tormentor was able to get his big tool all the way into him. The boy writhed uncomfortably under him, trying to get his legs down; his buttocks lifted clear of the tabletop so that his horny assailant could pump into him from above. Rayne gripped the edges of the desk again, rocking himself against the piston thrusting inside him, his only thought to get the dirty bastard off as quickly as he could. Again it did not take long but his spirits sank when he saw that Thierry was sucking the hairless guy's cock again, taking it deep into his mouth so that saliva and pre-cum ran down his chin from that big, hard tool. The skinny younger guard had filled Thierry's arse with his semen and now he hovered by the table watching eagerly as Rayne was fucked, getting visibly excited again.

The bald bastard dragged Thierry to the desk to watch this time as his boss pulled out and turned Rayne onto his belly again. The black haired boy resisted weakly as his legs were yanked apart, astride a corner of the table and he was remounted from behind. There were flecks of blood in the sheen of spunk on the big cock that pumped back into him. Rayne swore at the big, hairy guy but that only excited him and made him pump harder. As someone knocked on the door the superintendent made an irritable, dismissive gesture towards his young subordinate who hurried back into his tunic and struggled to fasten his pants over his hard rod. He was erect again just from watching his boss have rough sex with the English boy and could not wait for his own turn up the naked foreigner's tight arse. As he was dressing his superintendent hauled Rayne's slender body back towards him so that the dark-haired youngster was clear of the desk, still bent forward roughly with his arse full of cock-meat. At once the bald-headed guard snatched a handful of his sable hair and forced the English boy's mouth onto his throbbing penis, making him suck. Crudely, he ordered the blond kid to blow his friend's hot young cock whilst they satisfied him.

Thierry was crying; snot and tears running down his pretty face, as the second knock threatened to take the office door off its hinges. The boss was urging him to suck his English friend, promising that once they were done with him he would be allowed to fuck Rayne up the ass whilst they watched. As the younger guard fumbled with the lock on the door, Thierry cried out for aid then began to stroke Rayne's beautiful young prick with his soft lips, swallowing it deeper and deeper into his mouth. The English boy bucked back and forth between his friend's teasing lips and tongue and the big, powerful cock thrusting away in his arsehole. His own sweet mouth was stretched wide around the fat, purple tool of the hairless guard, saliva and cum dribbling down his chin as the bald man began to climax. Rayne Wilde moaned incoherently. Thierry's lapping tongue tormented him down below until he could not control the quivering urge to spurt in the blond's mouth.

As he looked over one shoulder, Rayne's cock-filled, burgeoning arousal was the last thing the younger Guard saw before he opened the door and Christophe burst in and decked him with a single blow to the jaw.

AGDE:

"It looks like Romney-fuckin'-Marsh with the sun shining!" There was no emotion in the boy's voice as he stared at the vast, sun-gilt Camargue, dancing in the heat haze beyond the train window, nothing to colour his feelings.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ant asked for the fiftieth time as the train powered across the Camargue and Rayne stared out of the window through the expensive tinted sunglasses his lover had bought for him in Lille. He was leaning against the wall in the corridor between cars with his bags and his guitar case propped up beside him, as it was far too uncomfortable to sit and besides, he would not look Christophe in the face. There had been a hushed argument in French back in the Guards' office once Rayne and Thierry had been liberated. It was apparently decided that if Christophe and Ant said nothing to the authorities about the rape of their two young friends, nothing would be said about the indecency committed in the toilets. Christophe had looked darkly at Rayne all the way back to their seats, where the young Englishman grabbed his bags and retreated to the corridor to sulk.

"I saw horses back there," Rayne said in a slightly blank and dreamlike tone, ignoring him completely. "Four little white horses in the middle of all that emptiness."

"The Camargue is famous for them," Ant told him, more resolutely. "Look... Ray... I know..."

"Shut up." The boy was gazing unblinkingly out into the sunlit expanse of marshland, refusing to respond to any of Ant's gentle cajoling. Only the sharpness of his tone suggested that he was paying any heed to his companion at all. "You don't know anything. Shut up and go talk to your new mate, Christophe. Leave me alone, all right!"

"It isn't his fault," Ant protested quietly. "What happened back there isn't his fault. And it isn't mine, either. Besides, you looked like you w..."

"Don't you dare say I looked like I was enjoying it!" Rayne turned on him with a vehemence that took Ant by surprise. His pale glare was like crystallised acid. "I've had ‘enough', all right. I don't wanna talk about it. When this train stops I don't ever want to see you again! Capiche?"

Ant swallowed an angry retort. The kid was hurt and embarrassed, he reminded himself. He was not himself. His attackers had not been gentle with him but still he had been unmistakably aroused when the door burst open and Ant and Christophe stumbled in on the Guards' little gang-bang.

"You've no money," he reminded Rayne Wilde quietly, refusing to be swept aside. "You've no idea where we are, even."

"I'll figure it out." The boy unbuttoned his jacket pocket and retrieved a roll up then scowled at the no smoking sign over the door and put it back impatiently. "I can earn money. I know how."

There was a sarcastic edge to this last comment. He turned his back on the older man and stared out at the reeds and the glittering salt lakes again. Ant sighed and leaned against the wall on the other side of the door from him stubbornly.

"You're still here." Rayne pointed out after a moment or two of bristling silence.

"I'm not going to abandon you," Ant told him. "I know you don't think you need me, but I'm still responsible for bringing you here."

He saw Rayne's head tilt sideways and those knowing, icy, lime green eyes found his own again. "Why ‘did' you bring me here?"

"Because I thought you'd be safe. And I hoped you'd relax and enjoy the sun and the sea." Ant folded his arms and Rayne inhaled a slow, deep breath through his nostrils then let it go between slightly pursed lips.

"Why did Thierry tell me that you hoped I was going to make nice with your friends?" he wanted to know.

"Why shouldn't you? They're putting a roof over your head and food in your belly," Ant retaliated. "It's not too much to ask, is it? For you to be polite to them?"

"I don't think that's what he meant," Rayne pointed out bluntly. "He seems to think that I'm down here to 'entertain' you and your mates. Is he right?"

Ant heaved a vast sigh. This time it was his turn to look away. He contemplated his next words carefully. Rayne was on a hair trigger right now and the slightest provocation might well see him explode.

"You know I'm out of pocket, Ray." As the boy took a step towards him he held up his hands to forestall the outburst of indignant rage that he sensed was brewing. "Wait... I know you didn't ask me to do any of this. I know! Before you remind me... again, let me finish. I thought that this would give you the chance to get your life sorted out. It would be an experience. You could meet some new people, chill out, have some red-hot sex and earn a bit of cash. That's all I thought. I wasn't trying to pull the wool over your eyes."

"So you ‘do' expect me to fuck your friends?" Rayne pushed up his shades into his dark, tousled hair and scowled at him suspiciously.

"They aren't putting us up for nothing," Ant said quietly as a middle-aged couple sidled through to the next carriage from the buffet, glancing at them disparagingly.

"Tell you what..." Rayne sneered back at him, unconcerned. "Why don't ‘you' flog your arse for a change? If you'd told me this from the start I'd not have wasted your precious, fuckin' money. I could have saved you a lot of fuckin' bother and I wouldn't have to put up with all this fuckin' grief about how I should be fuckin' ‘grateful' to you!" He was up on his toes, virtually growling the words into Ant's face by this time. Now he jabbed a finger viciously into the older man's chest and snarled; "Arsehole!"

Ant did not even think. He slapped the boy's face hard before he could turn away. For a second Rayne just stared at him, naked shock in his eyes. Clearly, of all the reactions he might have been expecting that was not one. Ant experienced a brief flare of anger and resentment. He had spent all of this time working to gain Rayne's trust and blown it with that one unconsidered, impulsive act. The passion cooled as soon as it had risen but he still felt the tingling in his palm from where it had made sudden, violent contact with Rayne's pale, pretty, sneering face.

And ‘damn' if it didn't feel good!

"Don't talk to me like that," he said grimly now, managing to keep the satisfaction from his lips as Rayne backed away from him slowly. "I'm not some piece of shit on your shoe, Ray. I've tried my hardest to help you and you're right, you've given me nothing but fucking grief from day one. You can pull yourself together or you can fall apart on your own, but you're going nowhere until I've got my money back. Do you understand?"

Ant saw the kid open his mouth to say something smart, then close it again without a word. In that instant he was poleaxed. Rayne looked so stunned and scared that he just wanted to fall to his knees and apologise. He wanted to put his arms around the beautiful boy and hold him until he was forgiven. The window of opportunity opened briefly then, before he could act, it was closed quite irrevocably. Something happened behind that glittering gaze that Ant did not understand. It was as if his lover pulled on a mask and the fear vanished like it had never been, replaced by a cold, impassive veneer.

Rayne shrugged his shoulders now and turned away, retreating behind his sunglasses once more and muttering; "Whatever makes you happy. You're the fuckin' boss."

Ant was on the verge of telling him that this did not in any way make him happy but right then the train began to slow and lean into the curve of the track as it began its steady approach into Agde. Their corridor was suddenly filled with happy holidaymakers all jostling against them with their suitcases and parasols and the moment was lost forever.

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END OF PART FIVE