A Boy Who Came In from the Cold Ch. 13

"Is he okay?"

"I'm fine, Rayne squeaked, closing his eyes, still panting with his lips slightly parted. "I'm okay! Everyone... just back off!"

His pulse was racing and he felt every touch, every breath of air like hot tongues licking his skin. It was akin to being on Speed, only he felt so hot all the time. So unbelievably horny!

'Strawberries, raspberries, grapes, melon, oranges, apples, pears,' his mind supplied helpfully. He put down the glass and counted on his fingers as he felt his cock-head beginning to leak persistently between his thighs.

"Jesus!" he gasped breathlessly.

'Apples... and pears... bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S! Grapefruit... ummm... peaches...'

"Oh Christ!" he whispered as this only conjured an image of Phil Honeywell's soft, creamy buttocks raised and waiting for him at the flat the other day.

This was just too humiliating. No one had touched him in a sexual way this morning but if he did not manage to control himself in the next few minutes he was going to cum, for sure. Rayne drew up his feet and braced them against the cross bar under his seat, bringing his knees up in front of him but keeping them pressed together as if his life depended on it. He snatched up the glass and gulped down the last of his drink.

"Get him some water," Mikka said, quietly but firmly.

Rayne opened his eyes to find everyone gathered around, staring at him. Aldo looked a little horrified; Clay and Paddy were openly bemused. Mikkal looked annoyed but not, Rayne sensed, with him. Robin was just bewildered.

"What's wrong with him?" the young man whispered urgently.

"He's hyper," Mikkal said seriously, taking the glass of water Aldo had fetched from the refrigerator and putting it into Rayne's hands, careful not to touch him. "Here, drink that. Drink as much as you can. It will help to flush your system through."

Green eyes darted to meet his solemn, silvery stare. Rayne was panting rapidly now, fighting for breath. Every nerve in his body was beginning to jangle. He felt as if he was on the verge of the most enormous orgasm and there was nothing in the world that he could do to stop it. Clay's hand felt much too hot on his shoulder and arm. A trickle of sweat ran down his naked back and the sensation sent ripples of longing through him that almost tipped him over the brink.

He gulped the water down, almost choking on the cold flow that filled his throat and pushed down deeper into his chest; between his lungs, making him struggle for breath; down into his belly. It was like deep-throating an icicle. He flashed back vividly to Ant's boat in Greenwich, lying bound and naked on the bed as his lover fucked his tormented arsehole with that long, melting probe. The glass slipped through his shaking fingers and he heard it shatter on the wooden floor. Rayne closed his eyes and hid his face in his hands, his cheeks felt so hot and he was gasping so hard and fast that it hurt his chest.

"Nectarines..." he sobbed. "Lemons... limes... Jesus, three more! Oh God, make it stop! Please!"

"What the fuck...!" Paddy exclaimed incredulously.

Aldo moved to his side and whispered something in his ear. Clay was looking at the pair of them almost apologetically.

"I've never seen it take hold of anyone like this before," the American was protesting. "That's amazing... It should take up to an hour to kick back in. I've tried it myself, I swear to God!"

"You muscle brained idiot!" Mikkal snapped at him. "Both of you are fools!"

"He was fine yesterday!" Aldo declared defensively. "Nice and randy. It worked fine!"

Rayne wrapped his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth on the stool, fighting to shut out this nonsensical row. He needed three more fruits... tomato was a fruit, wasn't it? And pineapple! Yeah... one more!

His colon began to tickle insistently and his whole body shuddered. He whimpered like an unhappy dog; little, high pitched moaning noises were forced from his throat as he bit down on his lips, huffing in each breath through his nostrils so rapidly that he could hear the air whistling as he snorted it up.

"Nnnn.... Nnnn... nnnnhhh... No...!!"

That teasing tendril of energy chased down through his loins like the spark on a slow fuse. A hot sweat broke out all over his body, running down his face, under his arms, between his thighs and buttocks. He could not stop it.

"Aahhh... ahhhh... hahhh... nnnnnnhhhhhh!" he whimpered, shaking his head in absolute mortification as the spark ignited the twin powder kegs between his thighs. They kicked back up into his groin with a violence that made him scream. A surge of wriggling power blasted its way up through his troublesome shaft and erupted from his cock head in a shower of fluid heat that ripped his nervous system to shreds.

He screamed again. This was unbelievable! It could not be happening to him. He was cumming like an express train; the flood would not stop, it just kept on surging through him, bursting out of him incessantly until his blood was burning and his heart felt like it would explode too.

"Get Mahmoudi!" Paddy yelled.

Someone scooped him up and carried him through to the bedroom where he was laid down gently on a firm, comfortable mattress. The material caressed his skin possessively. Rayne kept his eyes closed tight. He could not look at them. This had to be a nightmare, right? He was still asleep, still dreaming! This kind of thing did not happen to anyone when they were awake.

His hand moved instinctively to his cock as he was set down on the bed. It was still rock hard, still oozing a slow trickle of fluids. His belly and chest were soaked with sweat and spunk. Shamelessly he fisted his hard penis, rolling onto his back and squirming restlessly on the sheets, bucking his slim hips upward urgently as his fingers caressed the sticky, hot shaft, teasing a painful kind of pleasure from it. How could he still feel so fucking horny after everything that had been done to him yesterday?

A cool hand stroked his forehead then someone gently pulled his fingers from his erection and he whimpered a pathetic protest.

"Get me a wet towel," Mikka said grimly. "Make sure it is cold."

"He can fuck me, if it'll help," a quieter voice ventured.

Rayne opened his eyes and found Robin kneeling on the edge of the mattress beside him. The other lad was watching him with fascinated eyes. He smiled gratefully. Right now the promise of any kind of gratification was welcome.

"Suck me off!" he panted.

"NO!" Mikkal gripped his chin in a strong hand and turned Rayne's face away smartly from Robin's hopeful, answering smile. "Listen... you need to calm down."

"If... if he makes me cum again, maybe I'll calm down," Rayne gasped. His heart was racing so hard that it ached like someone was squeezing it tightly in a huge fist.

"Do you believe that?" Mikka asked, and this time he sounded properly angry. "Hellfire, Rayne! You're as stupid as those bollock-heads out there! Clay and Aldo are big guys, 'fit' guys! They can take a pill like that and fuck all night until they drop. They've no damned brain-cells to kill, so no damage done, huh? It's too much for you, baby. You're not a machine, you've not got the muscle-density those guys have. Let 'me' calm you down, honey. Please! Trust me! You're gonna hurt yourself if you try to fight it."

"Kiss me!" Rayne exhaled, having tuned out about half way through this impassioned plea. He was painfully conscious this close up of how gorgeous Mikkal actually was. He had long, silver eyelashes, every colour of silver from the darkest grey to the purest white, and so long and curling that they were nearly feminine. His pale eyes were flecked with blue and green and the lightest shade of grey. Rayne wanted to press his lips to the straight, serious line of Mikka's mouth, to feel it part and surge against his own. "Fuck me!" he panted, writhing on the bed again.

He was aching all over. Even his head was beginning to pound. A sense of nausea washed over him and he swallowed dryly.

Aldo returned, looking chastened, although his cock still tented his ridiculous apron. He dumped a pile of wet bath sheets on the edge of the bed. At once, Mikkal folded one lengthways and laid it over Rayne's belly and groin. He wrapped it around the boy, tucking it under his arse like a huge, damp loincloth, then used another to wipe down his sweating face and chest.

Rayne shuddered a little at the cool touch. It 'was' quieting down the riot of energy in his body and things were beginning to make horrible, painful sense to him all of a sudden. His mind unpicked the meaningless tangle of words they had left for him as he began to lose his senses. Aldo had spiked his drink, not just this morning but probably yesterday as well. There was nothing wrong with his self-control. The Italian had given him some kind of drug that made him horny. And it had worked too!

He remembered stumbling off the set in the afternoon, feeling tired and emotional. Someone had given him a glass of water; a glass, not a bottle as most of their drinking water in Beziers seemed to have been. He had drunk it right down without thinking. Not long after that, Aldo di Boccato took him into another room, pushed him down onto a sofa, dropped his pants and fucked his brains out. And he had not tried to stop it happening. He had fucking wanted it; wanted it so badly that the frustration was like a scream trapped inside him waiting to get out.

Even when they got back to the boat his lust had not subsided. He had wondered at the curious camaraderie between Aldo and Clay when the Italian guy brought him back here. The little winks and smiles should have warned him that they were up to no good but he had ignored his base instincts and let them do whatever they wanted to him, in any way that they wanted it. And much later, when he woke up in Paddy's arms...

Rayne felt the tears come then, filling his eyes until he did not know which way to turn in order to hide them. They must have had a fucking good laugh about this yesterday afternoon before he woke up. And again probably once they had all enjoyed him. To think that he had come so very close to blurting out his true feelings when Paddy was alone with him. It was probably all on camera! Thank god he had retained 'that much' sense. He had kept his mouth shut at least, even if he had been forced to whore himself out to them for nothing.

Mahmoudi turned up about then. Following a hushed conversation with a shamefaced Aldo and Clay, he twisted Rayne's left arm around so that the plumper veins in the crook of his elbow were accessible and administered a shot to the shuddering boy on the bed. Rayne winced away from him, only thinking after the needle had gone in that he should have reminded the Doctor that he was left-handed. It seemed such a stupid thing to think. As if any of these men cared! Peeling off the wet towels Mahmoudi wrapped Rayne carefully in the duvet and told them to keep his temperature stable and come for him right away if his breathing became laboured or his lips turned blue. From the doorway, Paddy McNamara sighed; "I take it we've just lost 'another' day's shooting! Thanks guys!"

Rayne could not make himself care. His throat hurt from trying not to cry and his muscles ached mercilessly. He curled up small, feeling his pulse begin to slow at last. It was such a relief that he closed his eyes and went down with the sedative, sinking into a blissful, peaceful blackness without dreams.

END OF CHAPTER 13

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© Josh & Sadie Rose 2006