Connor on Campus Ch. 03

Now, he slides the rounded tip of the butt plug against Stan's hole, and Stan's body tenses with a jolt of fear at that cold contact.

Fucking hell. The butt plug is so cold against his hot entrance that Stan can't help trying to twist away from it. But he's held in place by the ropes, his arse exposed in a way that leaves him completely at Connor's mercy.

He moans in fear as Connor pushes the cold end of the plug against his tight knot, and pushes it in.

It's so cold, so alien, so hard and unyielding, that Stan's not sure if it hurts, or if he's just terrified.

At first Connor fucks it in and out of Stan's entrance, pushing it in only a centimetre or so, tormenting him. Enjoying his involuntary shudders, the noises of fear in his throat. The way his abdominal muscles clench, and his stomach contracts with each tiny foray.

And then Connor starts the steady slide in, Stan's moans becoming more and more frantic as the plug stretches his arse open.

But Connor doesn't prolong the stretch, and soon it's in, Stan's tight ring closing around it.

Stan pants and shivers, that cold burning away inside him, the sensation all he can concentrate on.

Connor lets him stay like this for several minutes while he slowly jacks himself, enjoying the view of Stan's trussed up, helpless body, his cock lying soft against his stomach as his fear overtakes his horniness.

And then, when he's ready, Connor unties Stan's legs and removes the pillow from under the other boy's hips.

Stan relaxes, glad he's no longer held in such a humiliating position. But he dreads what might be coming next.

Connor crawls up Stan's body and unbuckles the gag. He tosses it to one side, and then kisses Stan. There's tongue and hunger, and for Stan, the mint taste of Connor's mouth.

Then Stan sits high on the other boy's chest and feeds his drooling cock to the boy beneath him.

Stan takes Connor's cock gratefully; he loves to suck his lover, loves to give him pleasure, loves the thick feel of him in his mouth.

Connor grips a handful of Stan's hair and fucks his mouth as deeply as he can, and Stan lets him know it's welcome with his mouth, and what noises he can make, with Connor's dick thrusting in and out of him.

There's precum steadily drooling against Stan's tongue, and he hopes this means Connor's going to finish in his mouth... but all too soon Connor pulls out, leaving Stan hungrily straining for his cock.

Connor lets go of Stan's hair, and moves down his body.

Another sound, something being taken from the nightstand, and then a sharp pain as something closes around Stan's left nipple. He lets out a noise of pain, and Connor grunts in annoyance.

Connor gets off the bed, and a moment later Stan's mouth is prised open as Connor forces the penis gag back into his mouth, buckling it tightly behind the other boy's head.

Connor climbs back onto the bed, and Stan lies there, twitching and drooling and waiting for the pain—

—and he's not disappointed, as something closes hard around his right nipple.

But before he can truly appreciate what's happening, Connor's hand's back on Stan's revived cock, working him from semi to hard, to ready to fuck.

"Does this feel nice?" Connor asks, his fingers gently squeezing Stan's balls as he teases his cock. "Wouldn't you love to come right now?"

Stan nods, and Connor flicks one of the clamps against his nipples, eliciting a moan of pain from Stan.

"Well don't."

There's the sound of spurting liquid and then for the first time since they've known each other, Stan feels his cock being slicked with lube.

The bed moves and Connor climbs on top of Stan, and then, fuck, positions Stan against his own tight entrance, and slides down, impaling himself on Stan's firm thickness.

Connor lets out a sigh of contentment and places one hand on Stan's chest, the other on Stan's right thigh behind him to steady himself.

Stan can't believe what's happening, as Connor starts to fuck himself on Stan's cock.

Stan lets out a groan, wishing his hands were free to touch his lover as they fuck, but understanding even this denial is part of his punishment.

But God, he wants to come.

Connor fucks himself deep and slow, then speeds up, bouncing on Stan's cock, his channel squeezing around Stan's hard dick.

Connor's hands on Stan's body are like two nodes of electrical conductivity, his touch warm and firm, as he buries Stan in the heat of his body.

For Stan it's torture to hold back his climax as Connor fucks him, his excitement at being mounted like this beyond anything he's ever felt before.

And he can't even see it.

And he can't achieve any kind of release.

He senses Connor's getting close as he feels his lover's body move as he jacks his own cock.

And then there's a growl of happiness and a spurt of wet heat across Stan's chest, then another. And another. And another.

"Oh fuck, you gorgeous slut," says Connor as he grinds himself down on Stan's cock while he finishes coming, "I've never seen you so desperate."

Stan's never felt so desperate. He feels it rise inside him, the pressure unbearable, as Connor's long fingers reach up to remove the nipple clamps.

"Now, Don't you dare cum."

Oh fuck, oh please, really? Stan's so horny, his cock's deep inside Connor, twitching and leaking and aching, and now Connor removes the pressure against his nipples.

"Fuck!" he tries to scream, but all he can do is make noises in his throat against the gag.

He's tempted just to let go, but then it's too late, as Connor's slides himself off Stan's hard and throbbing cock, leaving him tied there, hungry and horny and desperate for release.

Stan does nothing but control the urge to blow his load all over himself while Connor climbs off the bed and starts moving around the room.

Stan hears him go into the bathroom, hears running water and then his roommate returning. Then a damp washcloth closes around Stan's cock as Connor carefully cleans himself off the other boy. He takes the cloth away, rinses it, then cleans Stan down again. He does this three times, and Stan knows what's coming.

Finally, Connor gives the end of Stan's desperate cock a kiss, and says, "Think it down. Unless you want me to make it go down for you."

Stan groans with the sheer frustration of it and tugs against the restraints that bind his wrists, but he knows it's futile.

"You've got two minutes," says Connor.

Stan thinks about what's coming, on how uncomfortable and humiliating it'll be to be caged, and feels himself start to wilt. Still, it hurts him inside to lose his erection while Connor's cum dries against his chest.

"Such a good bitch," drawls Connor, and Stan rolls his head away from the coldness in his lover's voice.

When Stan's erection's soft and gone, he hears the dreaded drawer open again.

"Connor, wait." Stan's voice is strong and clear.

There's a pause, a silence.

"I don't want this," says Stan. "Please."

Still silence.

"You know how this works," says Connor, and Stan does. If he doesn't accept this punishment, Connor will either direct it back at Darren, or cut Stan out of his life.

"Lie with me," says Stan. "Please. Just for a while, before you do anything else."

Another silence.

"Let me go, Connor. Lie with me."

The silence stretches long, but then Stan feels Connor's fingers at his wrists as the other boy undoes Stan's restraints. He pulls off Stan's blindfold and gazes down into the other boy's eyes.

To someone who doesn't know him, Connor's eyes would look cool and empty. But Stan knows what lies behind the ice, and he knows how to get back there.

Stan shifts over, and Connor climbs onto the bed. He lies on his back beside Stan for a time, silent and brooding, and Stan lets him work through whatever's inside him.

It's these nights when Connor's eyes go dark that Stan sees who he truly is. But only after the frenzy that drives his lover's subsided, and the lust to cause pain dies away. Sometimes, if he's lucky, Stan can bring Connor back to himself before he takes Stan to a place he can't bear to go.

*

The first time Connor fucked Stan in anger was after Stan brought a girl back to his dorm. Just over a month ago now, Stan had come back from a party with a pretty young microbiologist who'd kissed him in the dark and whispered that she loved the feel of his arms around her, his hands cupping her breasts.

He'd pulled her on top of him and slid himself into her heat with languid strokes, her body lithe and perfumed moving against him, her lips soft, her mouth sweet with raspberry vodka.

Afterwards, as they'd lain close sharing drunken secrets, the dorm room door had opened and Connor had come stumbling in from a party of his own.

He'd fallen straight into his bed and said nothing to the two lovers, but even in his drunken state, Stanton had felt his roommate's anger prickle against his skin.

The next morning Stan had lain soaked in the scent of the girl's perfume and their combined love-making, thinking he might have met someone he truly sparked with.

Connor hadn't spoken to him that day.

He hadn't spoken to Stan that night either.

At first Stan hadn't noticed, since his mind and body were only focused on one thing—seeing Danielle again.

But on the second morning Connor had sent a picture to Stan's phone. Danielle holding hands with another boy, someone she unmistakably cared about. It was in her smile, in the way she stood close, in the look in the other boy's eyes.

Stan told himself it didn't matter, that they'd only slept together once, and she was just one of many cute microbiologists who'd be happy to come back to his dorm.

But it still hurt, and it somehow cheapened the night they'd spent together. The things they'd told each other in the grey hours of the morning.

That night, Connor had come back to the dorm and stripped off to take a shower without so much as throwing a glance in Stan's direction.

Confused, Stan had told himself it didn't matter if Connor ignored him. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it would break the other boy's hold on him.

But it did matter. And watching Connor walk around their small room naked, flashing his pale, perfect arse as he bent to collect underwear from his drawers, then reaching up to collect his towel from where it hung over the bathroom door, that stretch of muscle and sinew—Stan found himself unbearably desperate for the other boy's attention.

Connor hadn't said anything to him that night, and Stan had silently fisted his cock to a weak orgasm, hungry for the brutality of Connor's passion for him.

The next day, when Connor got back to the dorm, Stan had been waiting for him, naked, stretched out on his bed. An offering to his dark god.

He'd put a gag in his mouth, a plug in his arse, and he'd pulled out The Restraints and left them sitting on the bed for Connor to play with. The same restraints Connor had used the first night he'd fucked Stan after Stan had admitted to having a fantasy of being forced to fuck a man.

The moment Connor's eyes lit on Stan, had taken in his willingness to humiliate himself to win back the other boy's affection, a fierce light had woken in his eyes. It was the first time Stan saw the full extent of the rage that boiled inside his lover—and then, as he had now, he'd invited Connor to spill it all over him.

It'd been a difficult night, as he'd thought it would be, and Stan had gagged himself purposefully so that he wouldn't have a chance to back out. He knew if his fear overcame his lust, Connor would abandon him, and Stan couldn't handle that thought.

And after it was over, Stan saw something he never could have anticipated. He saw Connor break.

The other boy had just finished edging Stan to a ruined orgasm, then mounted his chest to enjoy the tears prickling Stan's eyes. But as Connor stared down at him, the mad light in his eyes died, replaced by a dark depression. And while Stan lay gagged and bound under him, Connor had started to talk. By the end of it, tears were running from Stan's eyes, and he'd never looked at Connor the same way again.

Connor had had a boyfriend, Xavier, the friend of a friend's older brother. Xavier had seen Connor playing video games at his friend's house one day, and decided Connor should be his boyfriend.

Being sixteen at the time, sex was completely out of the question for another two years, but nineteen year old Xavier swore to Connor that it didn't matter. That Connor was all he wanted, and he was prepared to wait until the law said it was legal for them to have sex. And on that day, Xavier promised, it would be so special.

And so they'd dated.

At first dating meant playing video games and watching movies, going to parties and surfing the net. And soon dating meant holding hands in public, and a chaste kiss on the lips when Xavier dropped Connor back at his house.

And then dating meant Xavier buying clothes for Connor to wear that he thought would look good on his 'cute' boyfriend, who was rapidly growing taller, lankier, turning from boy to man.

And then dating meant Connor driving Xavier home from parties after he'd been drinking, and picking up smokes for him when Xavier's older friends were around at his flat.

Meant sometimes Xavier would get busy with work for weeks on end and barely have time to answer a text. Meant, on the rare nights they saw each other, Connor sitting sandwiched between Xavier and his friends while they played video games, seventeen year old Connor wearing the clothes Xavier had bought him, which were often too tight, and which made him feel slutty.

Maybe it was this, but something about Connor certainly seemed to amuse the older boys, and they frequently teased him about being a cock-tease and a hold-out. When they did this, Connor would look to Xavier to set them straight, to tell them Connor was willing, that it was Xavier who insisted they wait until he was eighteen.

But Xavier would just grunt and ignore his friends ruffling Connor's hair and calling him 'the boy', asking him to fetch them beer from the fridge as if he was theirs to order around. And if Connor got snippy, Xavier would simply tell him to come back when he wasn't being such a little bitch.

But Connor loved him, worshipped him, and loved that Xavier would wait so long to finally have sex with him. Would hold himself back like that.

And then, finally, that special day had come.

The day after Connor's eighteenth birthday was a Friday, and they decided to use Connor's house for his first time, as his parents would be out for the night.

Xavier shouted them dinner at a gastro and then drove them home. Brimming with pent up excitement, Connor had walked up the stairs to his room ahead of Xavier, Xavier commenting on how tight Connor's arse looked in his jeans, how cute he was going to look naked. Naked and tied up.

Connor had glanced back at his older lover, but hadn't known what to say to that.

And then Xavier had stripped Connor naked and told him he loved him, kissed him hungrily from his mouth to the tip of his soon-throbbing penis, the older boy's strong arms wrapped around Connor's slimmer body, positioning him on the bed so he could suck him. And Connor had melted, all his doubts pushed away as he finally knew his lover's full affection.

Then, when Connor was hard and hungry, Xavier had climbed on top of the younger boy and pinned him to the bed while he told him all the things he wanted to do to him. How he wanted to torture him, how he wanted to make him scream and plead for mercy. How he wanted Connor to beg for his cock. How he wanted to deny him. To humiliate him.

And Connor, desperately turned on but confused, had simply said, could they just make love instead? This one time, this first time... before they tried anything else?

And Xavier had sighed with annoyance and begun to prepare to fuck Connor, and all thought was driven out of the younger boy's head.

He'd started crying somewhere halfway through, and by the time Xavier came inside him, Connor was shaking under his lover's bored gaze, his own erection wilted by the lack of heat in Xavier's eyes.

He'd begged for release, and Xavier had apathetically fisted the younger boy's cock to completion, before getting to his feet and pulling his clothes on.

Connor pleaded with him to come back to bed, to hold him. To tell him he loved him. To tell him everything was okay.

"If I'd known you'd be so fucking vanilla, I wouldn't have wasted two years of my life on you," was all Xavier had said as he buckled his belt.

Stan had seen it so clearly.

Connor crying now, on his knees on the bed, his heart destroyed.

Xavier shooting him a dispassionate glance. "When you next meet someone who's too good for you, you'd better fucking learn how to please them, or you'll be alone forever."

Xavier's birthday gift to Connor.

All of this had been recited in a dull voice, as if Connor was describing a movie he hadn't thought much of, and didn't intend to watch again. After he'd gone to the bathroom to clean up, Stan had taken off the gag and gotten into bed, shocked and traumatised by what he'd heard.

Then later that night, once he thought Connor was asleep, he'd crawled into the other boy's bed and snaked his arms around him. Felt Connor's body shake as he broke into violent sobs as Stan whispered that he loved him, that he'd never leave him. That he was wanted. That he was loved. That he was safe.

If only Connor would believe it.

And knowing what he does now, Stan knows Darren's just Connor before some arsehole broke the thing that made him human. And Stan can't let that happen.

So now, he lies beside Connor in silence, waiting.

It's minutes before the other boy moves, but finally he gets off the bed... but only to pull back the covers and slip under them. Stan does the same, and Connor faces away from him, letting Stan put his arms around him.

They sleep then, even though it's early, each of them exhausted by Connor's manic assault on Stan's body.

Then later that night, Stan wakes as Connor slips the metal butt plug out of his arse and turns Stan onto his back to fuck him.

This time, they come together.