A Boy Who Came In from the Cold Ch. 09

Thierry winced, this time with a little hiss of pain. As Ant touched his back he understood why. The heat coming off his skin was incandescent. His hand came away slippery with blood and other fluids.

"That bastard!" he snarled, unable to contain himself this time. "Did that evil fucker flog you?"

Thierry bit his lip, embarrassed and ashamed. He lowered his blond head wordlessly. Ant was furious and bewildered in equal parts.

"Why do you stay with him? How can you stand this?"

The French youth looked despondently at his hands.

"He is good to me, usually. When I do not anger him he is strong for me. He was my first lover, Antoine. I know that I am lucky to be his boy. I love him, but sometimes... sometimes I am afraid of him. His passion is very strong... sometimes he cannot help himself." Thierry lifted his tear-streaked face towards Ant. "I just need... I need to be still, for a little while. Then I will be okay."

Ant unfastened the ankle cuffs and tried to get him to his feet, but when Thierry could still barely walk, even supported by both Ant and Isolde, he threw caution to the wind. Carefully picking up the protesting youth, he carried him gently back to Daniel's boat, Isolde clicking along nervously behind them like a mother hen.

THE BEACH:

As they walked, Rayne began to realise just how notorious his companion must be. Guys who recognised him from his movies hailed Paddy from virtually every bar and café en route. He allowed himself to feel a little pride in the company he was suddenly keeping. When they passed the Laguna he half hoped that Giovanni would be there so that he could rub the Italian's nose in it for withholding his heroin yesterday, but there was no sign of the loquacious Italian.

The beach was a different world after dark. It was a black velvet ribbon edged with silver lace, shushing and sighing like a restless sleeper. A few determined intimacy seekers and late night romantics roamed the shoreline in the moonlight but did not disturb them. Out on the moll the lighthouse flashed its steady, dependable warning and the moon was bright and full enough to cast shadows. Once they reached the restless sea, Rayne kicked off his soft, black boots and wandered in to mid-thigh, delighting in the shock of the cold waves against his bare legs. Paddy chuckled and unlaced his own boots, following the younger man into the chilly water. They splashed and wrestled together whilst Mikkal and Clay sat down on the sand to watch, laughing at them both. At last Paddy took his hand and pulled him gently back towards the shore.

It was still warm, but not the clinging, stifling heat of the afternoon. Beside him, McNamara was a different kind of heat entirely; solid, brooding and needy. Rayne did not have to look at him or ask questions to know that the man wanted him. He had spent large parts of his adult life, and before, in the company of men who wanted to undress and fuck him; he knew the way they tasted and smelled, the ways in which they behaved when their interest turned suddenly from platonic to sexual and their balls began to rule their brains. PJ McNamara smelled of the ocean but he also carried the unmistakable pheromones of the rutting male. The gentle play fighting had been a part of it, a game to relax him and win some trust, but now the serious business began.

"You okay now?" Paddy asked quietly as they reached the waterline, still dripping and breathless. As they half turned to face one another the mingled aromas of the salt air and the sea and his hot, aroused body caught in Rayne's throat.

His head still ached; a slow, booming pulse in his skull. Rayne played it cool, if his heartbeat quickened that headache would be an absolute bitch. Paddy wanted to fuck and he hated fucking with a hangover. Now he just nodded and made an affirmative noise.

"Are you scared?" the big man asked, stroking a searching hand up and down his left arm.

An interesting question that. Asked about two hours ago, Rayne would have said 'yes' but the dynamic had shifted in the restaurant and again down here on the beach. His adrenaline was still pumping but it was not pure terror that drove it any more. He shook his head.

"No."

Mcnamara smiled weakly.

"You haven't lost your tongue then?"

"No such luck." Rayne had to clear his throat. His mouth was still parched and his throat burned. He uncapped the second water bottle and drank deeply, feeling instant relief. Dehydration was such a bitch.

"We should keep you off the champagne, man!" Clay commented, a gleaming grin splitting his dark, handsome face in the moonlight.

"It's horrible," Rayne agreed, turning to look at Paddy as he did so.

McNamara had come to stand very close behind him and he could feel the big guy's heat again. He knew that he was deliberately avoiding the moment when he would have to confront the main issue standing between them, even though they both understood what it was. As he lowered his eyes, deciding it was best to get it over with quickly, the problem was standing slightly upright from Paddy's powerful thighs, constrained by the tight gold ring he wore around his nut sac and the base of his rod. Paddy folded his arms, planting his feet about eighteen inches apart like a genie about to grant his three wishes. Rayne already knew what Paddy hoped they were. He looked up again, meeting the man's steel-blue eyes bravely. It seemed rude to stare at him like he was some kind of freak show.

And it 'was' freakishly huge. Even Rayne, who had seen (and sampled) some impressive cocks in his short time, had to acknowledge that this man was physically abnormal. Were it not for the chunky golden cock ring nestling against his enormous balls and the shaven mound of his pelvis, he would be fully erect. At full tumescence, Rayne guessed that his cock would probably jut up as far as his breastbone, without manual assistance. Currently it hung almost to his knees, the thick, tanned shaft all straining flesh and prominent veins. He was circumcised, like many porn actors. It was a vanity thing and Rayne, though un-squeamish, was not vain enough to go so far.

"It's not 'that' bad," Paddy said at last, with an awkward little smile.

Rayne shook his head quickly, coming to his senses.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean you. Uh... it's... it's..." His cheeks flushed and he was glad of the darkness for it hid his embarrassment slightly.

"That's okay. It has that effect on some guys!" The Irishman reached out for him now, pulling him close enough to kiss. "I guess it doesn't help that it really wants to get to know you better, Rayne. It wants to get so deep inside you that you think you're gonna die of pleasure."

It was such a corny line, but all Rayne could do was stare at him like an idiot. He was shaking again, unsure if it was the drink or the idea of riding that huge bone that did it. The very thought of taking it up his arse made him very glad that Aldo had persuaded him to wear a cock strap and fasten it tight. Jesus, he was still so fucking drunk! He could not open his mouth, if he did he knew that he was going to embarrass himself. He was going to do something stupid like beg them all to take him right here on the beach!

'I'm never gonna drink again,' he promised himself, swallowing hard.

"Do you wanna go somewhere more private?" McNamara asked him now. "Up into the dunes with us... or back to the boat. Somewhere you can relax and let the three of us make you cum like you never did before."

Rayne took a step back and another. He felt the waves lick around his ankles and kept moving back until the undertow snatched at his legs, pulling him off balance. At once someone caught him. Paddy was steering him back towards the beach. Mikkal said; "He should get something to eat. He just threw his dinner up, no wonder he's light-headed."

The suggestion sounded like a good one, so he let them guide his feet back up to a restaurant on the beachfront where the bald, moustachioed owner came out at once and greeted McNamara effusively. Everyone on the damned Cap seemed to know who Paddy was. Rayne could not make up his mind if this was a good thing or a bad one right now. He sat down at a table and put his head in his hands letting the sounds of the ocean and the clink and clatter and general chatter of the other diners wash over him like background music.

Mikkal sat next to him, gently stroking his hair and talking quietly to him. Someone brought him a cup of coffee, unasked for, which made him feel a little better. It was hot and freshly made with cream and a hint of sugar. He drank it down without breathing and demanded more water. Beside him he heard Paddy enquire about some fries and mayo, then asked if he wanted anything else.

"Dunno. A cheese sarnie, maybe," Rayne said, vaguely.

"You want hot sandwich?" the waiter asked and he nodded mutely, hardly caring.

When the food came he was surprised by how hungry he was. Aldo and Ant were constantly fussing about how badly he ate, but he rarely had a great appetite. He supposed it explained his physique, but sometimes just the idea of eating knocked him sick. Ignoring the warnings about the heat of the filling he devoured the toasted sandwich in moments, right down to the crust, which he left on his plate. Molten cheese seared the roof of his mouth and his gullet but he did not care, it just tasted fabulous.

Paddy was watching him with some amusement in his pale blue eyes. He dipped a french fry into his mayonnaise and put it in his mouth, chewing contemplatively.

"That looks disgusting," Rayne said, once his mouth had stopped melting. His head felt clear for the first time that night.

"It tastes real good," McNamara told him. "Here, try some."

He dipped another fry and held it out, touching it to Rayne's lips so that they were smeared lightly with creamy mayonnaise. Rayne pushed his hand away.

"I'm not going to eat it."

"Keep your mouth open," Paddy McNamara told him. "C'mon... trust me!"

Rayne licked the dressing off his lips and conceded that it did not taste as bad as it looked. He met Paddy's glittering eyes and opened his mouth with a little shrug. The burly porn star grinned and dipped another fry, then stroked his lips with it and touched the tip of it onto his tongue. Rayne bit down on it and turned his head away, feeling his cheeks getting hotter again.

"Christ, you're sexy," Paddy whispered in his ear. "Come and sit in my lap while I feed you."

"I'm not a fuckin' Chihuahua!" Rayne retorted, with a shake of his head.

"You're frickin' hard work!" the older man laughed. "I hope you follow the script when you get in front of the cameras, baby."

"I'm not your baby, either," the boy warned him, his green eyes sparkling with daring. "You wanna know somethin' for nothin'? You sound like you're livin' in one of your fuckin' movies. That is such a laugh!"

"You think that's funny, huh?" Paddy sat back and surveyed him seriously for a little while until the grin slowly faded from Rayne's face and he folded his arms, almost mirroring the other man's pose.

"I think it's a bit sad," Rayne said airily at last.

Clay and Mikka chuckled knowingly at this, nudging one another as they watched him face off with McNamara. He bit his lip, conscious that Paddy was frowning at him, not angrily but in a thoughtful kind of way. Of all the bizarre things that had happened tonight this was almost the strangest. Rayne had geared up for a fight with this man. He knew this type; they got their own way through money and power and they expected you to be in awe of them. But whenever he thought that he had PJ McNamara sussed out the man did something else that he was not expecting.

"You know what?" Paddy McNamara sighed at last. "You're a little firecracker, Rayne Wilde. I can't wait to get on set with you."

BACK ON BOARD:

Ant watched Aldo fix a Blue Witch and wander out onto the decks with it, thinking that it must be good to be as handsome and untroubled as the young Italian movie star. The rest of Daniel's crew had returned to the boat not long after he and Isolde got young Thierry settled in Ant's bed. They had helped him to shower and bandaged his lacerated back and wrists. Now he was sleeping as though he had not dared to close his eyes in days. Ant sat with him for a little while then stroked his peaceful young face and left him to rest. He was brooding angrily now, not sure who was most deserving of his ire. Tonight, Christophe had moved towards the head of the list of people he most wanted to punch. He had no problems with BDSM when the recipients were all consenting adults, but he could not begin to imagine how Thierry had been willing to let the older man hurt him so badly. Back at the boat he and Isolde had freed the boy of his tethers, including a pierced cock restraint that pulled his sex back between his legs and anchored it to the base of a thick, eight inch butt plug that had been rammed deep into his arsehole. Thierry explained shyly that Christophe liked him to be ready for fucking at all times and without the plug he was too tight for the kind of quick, rough, unlubricated sex his lover enjoyed.

Ant shook his head grimly. He could only imagine how the boy had wound up with so many vicious stripes across his back. Yesterday when they had been discussing Rayne, Christophe had mentioned others who would help him break the younger man. He wondered if that had also been Thierry's fate.

Thinking of Rayne only made him more irritable. The little slut still had not returned and across the harbour, on the end of the long jetty, PJ's boat remained in darkness. If McNamara and his friends had taken Rayne to the dunes then it would be hours before they returned. Ant had been coming to the Cap long enough to know the kind of thing that went on in the sand hills by the nature reserve after dark. Like as not, Rayne was satisfying more than just the three porn stars by now. The sight of him on his knees in the sand with McNamara up his tight young arse would attract the nightcrawlers like flies on fresh shit. No doubt Rayne was thoroughly enjoying all the randy male attention, as well. He certainly had not objected to Aldo's vigorous use of his fuck hole last night.

Aldo 'was' a gorgeous young man and he could hardly blame Rayne for noticing that, or succumbing to it. He 'could' blame Aldo for taking advantage though and that was what he had decided to do. Ant might have forgiven finding anyone else between his lover's thighs, but he could not forget the hungry expression on Rayne's face as he walked into the bedroom the other night to find the pair of them at it like dogs on the bed. Jealousy burned like a cold flame in his heart. And they had been so fucking casual about it too. Behaving like nothing had happened. Aldo had withdrawn and sauntered out past him like it was nothing. Rayne had then pulled him into bed like he did not care who mounted him next.

Ant hunted out a bottle of wine from the cooler in the galley and poured himself a large glass to soothe his temper. On the day bed, Terry was already getting down and dirty with the Twins in the flickering light from the full-length movie screen on the opposite wall.

"Rosie, stop moping! Come and give me a hand with these two hot little bitches," he called, as Craig (or was it Neil? Ant could never tell) crouched over him, deep-throating his cock. Neil (or was it Craig...?) was already straddling his brother and humping him urgently on the long, low bed.

Ant was considering the invitation when a familiar voice distracted him and he looked up at the screen. Rayne, looking very young and beautiful, in spite of his unruly platinum blond hair and dark eye makeup, was sitting in the back of a car in a school uniform letting an older man unfasten his pants and wank him, while the driver hung over the back of his seat and watched.

"I've never been with a man before," Rayne said in that oddly husky voice, like a juvenile, male Marilyn Monroe.

Immediately, Ant got an erection. It was a startling, Pavlovian reaction. Just hearing his words, Ant could feel his young lover's mouth around his dick. He could not watch it again, knowing that Rayne would not be here to fuck after it was over; knowing that the beautiful little slut was probably on his back right now, with at least two enormous pricks inside him, maybe more. His balls aching, Ant hurried out onto the rear deck to get some air. He could see Paddy's boat from here. It would be easy to go over there and walk in, catch them in the act, let them know exactly what he thought. But then, he knew Rayne would only remind him that it was his own fault for deciding to come here. He would have to face the possibility that maybe Rayne preferred to be with Paddy McNamara, and when he thought about it like that, he could not imagine how the boy would 'not' prefer it. Paddy was rich and magnanimous. He was renowned for his skill in the bedroom, and then there was that cock!

Ant sat back and closed his eyes, letting the swaying of the boat lull him. Terry was right, he guessed. He should just go back inside and have hot sex with one of the boys and stop moping. He could hear grunting and laughter from the day room and knew that his old mate was having a whale of a time with those two young studs. Terry had always loved fucking young men. He never cared what anyone thought or what the consequences might be. He would never have allowed himself to get taken for a ride the way Ant always seemed to.

Fuck 'em and move on to the next one! That was Terry's motto, and it seemed a good one right now.

He emptied his glass and wandered back into the day room where it had gone rather quiet. There was no one on the bed, though the film was still playing on the big screent hat covered one wall. He wandered through to the corridor and peered into the bedrooms. In Terry's den he found them. Neil and Craig were in the sixty-nine on the floor while Terry knelt behind one of them, pounding his tight arsehole. None of them even noticed him, they were so busy getting off.

He walked back to the day room with a heavy heart. On the screen, Rayne was half-naked on the bare mattress of an iron-framed bed in an otherwise unfurnished room, letting two nude, well-hung men strip and molest him whilst he rubbed their cocks. He was so distracted by this sight that he did not initially see Aldo lying on the rumpled futon. The first he knew of the Italian's presence was when the fellow sighed; "God, I had never realised before how young he must have been."

"Uh?" Ant jumped and looked down at the good-looking lad rather guiltily. Aldo was tugging slowly on his long cock as he watched the film.

Ant cleared his throat awkwardly. Aldo glanced briefly towards his crotch then back up into his eyes solemnly.

"You're missing him, I see," he whispered in a mischievous tone. "Have you ever seen this movie?"

"Just once," Ant whispered back, "the other night."

"Isn't he hot? I love it," Aldo told him. "It's one of my favourite first-timer films."

"Even more amazing when you know that it 'wasn't' his first time," Ant said gruffly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

"He plays it like it is," Aldo exhaled, stroking himself a little faster. "You don't mind me jerking off?"

Ant shook his head. "Not so long as I can watch you."

"You can help me, if you like," Aldo invited with a sexy smile.

On the screen Rayne was telling one of his lovers that he had never sucked cock before. He was nude now and looking up with those long-lashed, kitten eyes.

"Lying little slut," Ant said with a harsh laugh.

Aldo said nothing, only bent over him and took Ant's throbbing prick in his mouth. Ant reached for his magnificent ten-inch tool and began to fist the Italian stud vigorously. He kept his eyes on the screen watching Rayne take the first man between his lips whilst he held onto the other fellow's cock as if it was a safety rail, letting the man rub himself up and down in his hand. Ant gasped and bucked on the bed as Aldo's warm mouth enfolded him, slowly and sweetly sucking him off. He watched Rayne's luscious young mouth move from one prick to the other on screen, taking them deeper and deeper; gagging on a mouthful of precum or struggling to deep-throat the larger of the pair. They urged him on more coarsely, rubbing their cocks on his face and body, streaking his skin with cum, then squirting their love juices all over him, into his open mouth and soft hair.