tagGay MaleNowhere to Run Ch. 03

Nowhere to Run Ch. 03

bywindstormy©

I have revised and combined the next three chapters. Those that have already seen most of this story in my group have not seen the revisions. So, if you belong to my group and are reading this, read carefully—or you'll miss something. LOL

I've taken some good advice from those that commented on the thread I posted in the forum to expand and add more flavor and meat to this. I agree that it needed it. It's not like me to be so vague anyway. Details...details...details...gotta have them!! hehehe

Hope you enjoy this read. I'm working on the next, too. Though, it's already written, I need to go over it again, as I did this. Happy reading

*


Six month later...


Casey stirred in his sleep and Joshua woke. It was beyond him how long he'd been there or if it was night or day. He had been down in the large room since he'd arrived and had grown to like Casey very much, so much so that he'd been sleeping with Casey on a regular basis and had done whatever the man desired.

"You're a slut!" a vicious voice barked in his head. He caught a glimpse of someone that stood over him and slapped him so hard his ears rang and his head twisted in the direction the hand followed. He faltered from where he stood and found himself on the floor. Crying, he tried to stand only to be kicked with a hard menacing foot.

"I hate you, Joshua! I've tried so hard to give you everything! But you keep taking and not giving a fucking thing! You'll never amount to anything, whore! Now, get up and come suck my cock, bitch!"

The man was a bit on the heavy side, almost covered in hair that reminded Joshua of a bear. Bear. That's what he was called—his father...no, it was his uncle, or was it...he wasn't sure. The man's brows bristled into a furrow as he turned and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Get over here, slut!" he demanded with a point of his finger to the floor between his thighs, his other hand filled with his erection that he pulled out of his briefs.

Joshua came up on his hands and knees and crawled toward the man quickly.

"Suck it," the man's voice cooled from the heated commands of before. A smile graced his large lips that appeared to almost ooze saliva at the corners.

Joshua came up on his knees and surrounded the erection with his lips.

"Yes," the man hissed in a whisper. "That's better."


"Joshua!" a foreign voice called him out of his past. "Baby, you're covered in sweat and shaking like a leaf! What's wrong?"

Joshua sobbed. "I remembered," he muttered.

"What, Joshua?" Casey sat up quickly and stared down at the boy with concern. True concern? Josh was taken aback by it.

"Tell me, Josh!" he demanded.

"A man...that's all...just a man." He turned onto his side and cried long and hard.

"What did he do to you, Josh? Please tell me," Casey molded himself to Joshua's body and lightly raked long hair from the boy's face.

Heavy footsteps bounded down the stairs into the room.

"Casey!" Stan growled. "Shut the slut up, will you?! I can't sleep!" he started up the stairs then stopped. "Matter of fact, get your ass up here! I want some, now!" he barked.

Casey hesitated, then abandoned Joshua and ambled to the steps were Stan grasped a handful of hair and dragged him upstairs. Not long after, Josh could hear them. Banging. Moaning. A slap. Then another. Finally, cries of release. He waited for Casey to return, but he never did, at least not until later. Much later.

Joshua sat at the table eating what Casey had made for him the night before when someone opened the door and stepped down the rickety stairs. He looked up and expected Casey, but quickly looked down into his bowl when he realized it was someone else.

"Well, little whore," the man came slowly to the table. "You look better than the first night I had you," he commented. "Oh, I hear you've been talking. You're name is Joshua, huh? Nice name for a slut. Got any ass left for me? Or are you cock whipped, now?"

Josh looked up at the man with a vacant expression and feral narrowed eyes. "Fuck you, bitch!" he growled at the man.

"Oooh!" the man laughed. "I like your spirit, kid." He parked in the chair across from Josh, pushed it from the table and slapped his thighs. "C'me on, kid. Kelly wants some ass."

Josh reared back his head and spat at the man viciously.

Anger flashed across Kelly's face, which flamed red, as he stood and grabbed a handful of hair at the back of Joshua's head. He wrenched the boy's head back harshly.

"So, you wanna play, huh?"

He obviously seized control over his wrath when he saw the evil little smile on Joshua's face. "C'me 'ere, slut!" he dragged Josh from the chair to the bed where he shoved him face down. There, he buried his member to the hilt inside Joshua, who cried out with the shock of pain with a dramatic shiver.

"Like that, bitch?" Kelly huffed, as he thrust continuously in and out of the boy.

Joshua struggled with the man, forcing him to have to pin the boy's hand to the bed.

"Oh, I love this," the man expressed huskily.

"Harder, damn it!" Josh yelled at the man behind him.

"Harder?" he slammed into the boy with a slap of their bodies. "How's that, kid?"

"Oh, gawd!" Josh returned.

"Yeah...now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout," the man chuckled.

Kelly released the boy's hands and Josh tried to stand.

"Not so fast, bitch!" he grasped the back of the boy's head and shoved him down on the bed again.

Removing his thin leather belt, he gathered the boy's hair, doubled the belt and slapped at Josh's back with it.

"You're being a naughty little whore, boy!" he claimed gruffly.

Joshua quivered and yelped in surprise of the first strike. The sting let him know he was alive and this was not a dream.

"I'm sorry, sir," Josh almost laughed.

"No you're not!" Kelly thrashed him again. Harder.

With quick snatches of air, Joshua pretended to struggle with the man in an attempt to draw more punishment from Kelly.

"I swear it! I'm so sorry, sir!" Josh's airy voice rose with the tension of stimulation.

"I don't believe you, bitch!" Kelly barked.

"More! Please!" Josh called back to the man.

Sensation rippled down Kelly's spine. This was truly more than he had hoped to experience from the boy. He had already made up his mind that he would spend the remainder of the night with Joshua, fucking, maybe a blow-job...or two, three.

Kelly beat him continuously, for a long moment, until Josh went rigid and cried out in release. The spasms stroked and gripped him so that he couldn't hold back and came with the boy. It was intense. Kelly shook as it overcame him so that he thought it would be the death of him. When it finally ended, he plopped down atop Josh, breathing wildly.

"That was so good, kid," he huffed into the boy's ear.

"Glad you liked it," the voice had changed and Kelly looked into Josh's face to be sure it was the same kid. He chuckled lightly. "Guess you're back now, huh?"

Joshua's face flushed. "Yeah, sorry," he apologized.

"For what?" Kelly stood and zipped his pants, feeding the belt through the loops.

"Disappointing you," Josh turned over and studied the man carefully.

He was a tall man, with light brown hair, golden brown eyes and tanned full lips. He wasn't overly muscle bound, though he did have prominent definition. His arms bulged somewhat as he continued to work the belt around his pants.

"You didn't, Joshua. But I'd really like to know the other boy's name," he confessed.

"I don't know it," Joshua admitted.

Kelly could see by the boy's demeanor that Josh was a little jealous of his alter. He chuckled a bit, "no need to envy him, Josh. You're as exciting as he is."

"Yeah, right." Josh stood and went to the table, sat and started eating again. "That's why everyone wants him, not me," he grumbled.

"Hey, you shouldn't complain about something you don't really understand to begin with, ok?" Kelly marched to the table and sat and watched Josh eat.

But Josh remained silent the remainder of the time that Kelly visited with him. He soon left a little hurt because Josh was acting so childishly—at least that's how he saw it. To be honest, he was highly disappointed after deciding to stay with the boy that night. He didn't mind sharing his disappointment with Stan, either.

No sooner than Kelly had left the room, Stan barreled down the stairs. Without a word, he came straight for Josh, anger contorting his face.

Joshua's lips parted slightly as he watched the man amble heavily towards him. He couldn't think of a single thing he'd done to upset Stan. When the man reached a powerful hand for Joshua's hair, the boy ducked and tried to evade him.

"C'me 'ere, you little shit!" he finally got hold of Josh's hair and dragged him to the center of the room. With rope that he pulled from his pocket, he bound the boy's hand and tied it to what hung from the ceiling.

"I'll teach you to act like a bitch!" he grumbled as he removed his thick leather belt and began beating Josh fiercely. "And don't you dare switch, whore!" he called out to the boy.

Josh cried out with each strike that stung so much. He fought the urge to regress and hide inside himself, knowing he would receive a worse punishment if he did. He hated Stan, who often represented cruelty and much of what he was recalling periodically from his past. How he wished the man would die or just go away and never return.

But try as he did, he couldn't stop the switch. Stan saw it when it happened, having learned the differences between Josh and the alter.

"You fucking whore!" he bellowed viciously at the boy.

"C'me on, bitch!" Josh growled back. "That all you got?"

*****


Out for a late night snack, a tall mysterious man strolled down the main boulevard in town. He was dressed to kill—a humorous metaphor—as far as he was concerned. Dressed entirely of black, his ritzy suit fit him like a glove. Added was the long black cape and stylish walking stick, just for a tease.

He smiled, flashing perfect teeth at passers-by and gave a genteel nod to the lovely ladies along with a, "Madam", or "Ladies". But, they were all safe from his primal hunger, for that night, he searched for a lovely young man.

His eyes drifted closed and he stifled a moan in his throat as he thought of soft human skin nestled against his body. Warm. Naked. Hard muscled. Pulsing with all that he desired.

He heard a scream and canted his head to listen closer, honing in on the commotion that surrounded the vile, yet exciting, riveting emotion of fear.

"Stop it, Stan! You're hurting him!" Casey lunged at he man and shoved as hard as he could.

"You fuck!" Stan glared at his long time lover. "You've sold out to him, haven't you!"

"I love him, yes, Stan. Now leave him alone!" Casey confessed to the man that he had only catered to for so many years, just to have someone to warm his bed and sometimes treat him the way he wanted in sex.

"No!" Stan shook his head slowly, his voice revealing disbelief. "You and me need to talk, bitch!" he grasped Casey's arm and dragged him towards the steps.

"No! Casey! Please don't leave me!" Joshua cried to the man, sensing that something terrible was about to happen.

"It's ok, baby," Casey blew him a kiss, then disappeared up the stairwell.

Joshua hung there, by the wrists from the ceiling, and listened to them argue above him. The voices rose vehemently to the point he could almost make out what was said. He caught a word here and there and knew they argued over him. Stan was enraged that Casey loved Joshua rather than him.

Casey finally admitted the truth to Stan.

Then...it happened.

"No, Stan!" Casey screamed.

A shot rang through the entire house and the thud of a fallen body that stopped Joshua's heart. His lips parted as he tried to listen for new sounds and wondered what would happen next. Would Stan come down those stairs again and shoot him too? He was vulnerable...unable to defend himself...there was nowhere to run...nowhere to hide.

He heard shuffling, scuffing across the floor. Realization set in. Casey wouldn't be back. His lover was gone.

Pain slammed him. His chest became tight and he found it difficult to breathe. The tears came that dripped from his jawline to his chest and rolled down his body. He wanted to die. There was no use in continuing if his love was already gone.

"Hmm..." the tall mysterious man shook his head slowly. "And such a tender age you are, my dear boy," he muttered to himself.

The boy was so open; he read everything that had happened to Joshua in the past two and a half years. He also found much of what the young man had been recalling of his past lately.

Another shake of the head and the man tsked the situation coolly. Still the young man brought intrigue and many questions he wanted answered. Having lived centuries, he was given to most anything that intrigued him. The boredom of living so long without something to keep his involvement was often devastatingly painful. To find one, such as Josh, made for an excitement he had thought he had long forgotten.

He made his way out of town and followed the scent of freshly spilled blood to the house many miles from anyone or anything that could catch a sound.

But of course, he had heard it.

He stepped up the broad creaking steps onto the long porch of the old log cabin. With a light rap on the door, he waited to be invited in. Oh, but he didn't really need an invitation. Evil had taken place in this home, which had dissolved the power of the threshold. With that remembrance, he grasped the knob of the door and turned it slowly. It clicked. The door gave way and opened to him.

With great anticipation, he stepped across the threshold into the living area. A large puddle of blood remained on the floor not far away. Yet, the body was missing. Now, where had that hellion gone with the boy's lover, he thought to himself. Ah, but there was a trail to follow, which he did.

He slowly walked through the dining room and then the kitchen, following the trail of blood that led out the back door, onto the porch and down through the woods.

"Oh, my," he muttered to himself. "Stan, you're a messy one. The cops will have a field day with this. Crime of passion. Hiding the body. But, you've left all sorts of signs and such. They'll hang you from the highest tree. That is if I hadn't happened along." He gave a short chuckle as he parked a shoulder against the old wooden barn and gazed upon Stan as the man shoved his lover down into an abandoned well.

"My, oh my," the man couldn't help but laugh softly. "Is that any way to treat a long time lover? You're trying to make it look like someone else killed your friend. But there is retribution to pay for such a crime, my dear man."

He stepped back into the shadows when Stan started toward him, heading back to the cabin. With stealth, patience and in silence, he followed. When he returned to the house, Stan was on his hands and knees scrubbing the floor. The man laughed aloud in that human had only smeared it deeper into the wood grain, which would make it all the more detectable.

"You're a clumsy murderer, Stan," he commented.

Stan bolted from his knees and took a stance with the intruder. He perused the stranger, who was not only delectably handsome, but also had entered his home without as much as a sound.

"Who are you?! How did you get in here?!" the man drew his pistol from his pocket.

The mysterious man laughed again and slowly lifted a hand, drawing on his powers. "You'll have no need of that, my friend," he spoke softly to Stan. "Lower the weapon and talk with me."

Stan couldn't stop himself, as he let the pistol and hand drop to his side. He struggled against what felt to him to be a coercion of some sort. As hard as he tried to keep the pistol aimed at the stranger, he couldn't. It became too painful to endeavor.

"Let it go and kick it away," the man urged, still controlling the human's mind.

Stan dropped the pistol and kicked it from him.

"Do you know what you're doing, Stan?" he asked then.

"I'm cleaning up my mess," Stan returned, as if in a trance.

"Yes, but you are manipulating the blood into the fiber and grain of the wood, which any forensic scientist will find easily. More easily, actually."

He looked around and stepped closer to the human. "Do you have wine, my friend? I'd truly love some," he suggested and Stan moved into the kitchen. He returned a minute or so later with a glass of wine that he handed to the mysterious man.

All the while, he wondered why? Why would he cater to this stranger so easily...so readily? Why couldn't he fight whatever had hold of him? It was as if he had no mind of his own and was being played like a marionette.

"Thank you." The stranger raised the glass to Stan then took a sip. "Ah, good wine, Stan."

"Thank you, sir," Stan answered mechanically.

"Why did you kill your lover, Stan?" he asked then.

The human searched his mind for an answer, but could only think of one.

"Because I love him," Stan actually showed emotion as he dropped his head. The stranger could hear his heart rate skip a beat and knew that Stan had become obsessed with Casey.

"But, Casey, loved Joshua. You couldn't stand the thought of it, could you?"

"No." Stan's voice quivered with emotion.

"You'd miss him."

"Yes." Stan shifted, uneasy with the thought. He didn't want to think about it, really. Being without Casey would utterly destroy him...drive him to suicide. But he now had Joshua to take his grief and frustrations out on without reservation, until he couldn't stand it any longer.

"I can help you there. You could join him."

Stan lifted his gaze to the man. A glimmer of hope and curiosity brightened his eyes.

"Come into my arms, my love." The man opened them broadly and waited.

He thought about it for only a moment before he moved slowly, uncertainty resounding within him. But he couldn't resist the stranger or his power. He moved into the stranger's arms that enveloped him slowly, cuddling Stan close to his rigid form. With ease, the stranger leaned his head down and brushed Stan's lips with reassurance that all would be fine when it was over.

"You'll thank me, Stan. I assure you of that."

Finally, Stan issued a grievous sob. Remorse pummeled him unrelentingly. He canted his head, unaware as the stranger's lips traveled down his throat. There was pain. Sharp. It was gone as quickly as it came. Then, he became aroused.

But how could he, when his lover was dead? Dead by his own hands. He had killed his own lover...his Casey. How dare he enjoy passion and arousal at such a time as this?

The lights above him became a blur. The world spun and he gasped for breath. Darkness shrouded him. His heart pounded in his ears. The beat slowed. He waned.

Then there was nothing.

He gently lifted Stan's lifeless body into his arms and carried him out the back door. Having the forethought that his kiss of death could possibly awaken another fool to the world of darkness, he surmised within that he must dispose of the body properly in order to avoid such a blunder.

Once outside, he lifted into the air in search of a spot, hundreds of miles away that wouldn't link him to the crimes that had been committed in the cabin. The last the mysterious man needed was a witch hunt on his hands.

He found such a place, near a small lake and nearby meadow. There, he undressed and dismembered Stan then buried each part of the man separately. It was a gruesome task, one that he carefully guarded himself from becoming overly excited about. If he allowed the beast its freedom, humanity as it was known, would be in grave danger. And he loved humans more than he loved his long, dull and boring existence as a vampire.

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