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Fuck Axl - VR Has the One-Two Punch |
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Written by and photos by BARRY BRECHEISEN
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Wednesday, 05 September 2007 |
There are not many new bands out there these days that have what it takes for a great live rock-n-roll show. I mean an all balls out affair and let’s face it you just need two key ingredients. Okay you need the songs but after that it’s not the flashy pyro or an expensive light show, no all you need is that cool front man and the equally cool lead guitarist.
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Velvet Revolver & Alice in Chains
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 Entertainment
 Art
First Midwest Bank Amphitheatre
Chicago, Ill.
August 28, 2007
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It’s true, the Stones have Jagger and Richards, The Who have Daltry and Townshend and Zeppelin have Plant and Page. The guys all want to be them and the girls want to fuck them; well maybe the guys want to fuck them as well, not for me to judge. Regardless, if you have that combination you have the perfect one-two punch for a kick ass rock-n-roll extravaganza.
Velvet Revolver is just one of those bands that have that perfect mixture. There’s not many front man out there as cool or as much fucking fun as Scott Weiland. He’s one of those guys you know has been to hell and back, survived the inner demons and you love him for it all. Then you add the genius top hat guitar playing fare of Slash and well, it’s magic.
Of course Weiland was just as cool fronting STP but there was one important element missing, an equally cool guitarist. Don’t get me wrong, Dean DeLeo is great and a talented guitarist but who wants to be him? Anyone?
Now GnR on the other hand had it all, they were sex, drugs and rock-n-roll living it to the fullest. They would still probably be all of that except of course for the fact that Axl is apparently just an asshole these days.
So with all that in mind, Velvet Revolver pounced on Tinley Park bringing along the grunge gods Alice in Chains with them as well. The night was surprisingly not sold out, maybe because it was a Tuesday or maybe because they decided to announced another show coming up at Star Plaza in October. Regardless, it was a beautiful night to see a rock-n-roll show outside and slowly say goodbye to the summer.
The show opened like it should, Slash in the spot light doing what he does best - shredding the opening riffs of a new track, “Let it Roll.” Not being familiar with the new tracks I must admit it was a solid opening and a teaser for a great set. Tonight, as has been the case for the tour, the setlist consisted of a nice balance of songs from VR’s two albums as well as tracks from the STP and GN’R catalog as well.
Ex-Wasted Youth guitarist Dave Kushner got his chance to show his chops during STP’s “Vasoline” and proved he is qualified to stand on stage with the GN’R alumni. During the new track “Last Fight,” the band did their up close and personal sit down not completely acoustic set. Other tracks included the beautifully STP rocker “Interstate Love Song” and a spot on of GN’R “Patience.” Weiland and the boys handled their parts perfect as true rock veterans with Matt Sorum sporting a “In Funk We Trust” trucker hat to top it all off.
Of course the night had plenty of solid Slash moments on tracks like GN’R’s “It’s So Easy” and “Set Me Free” that led to no one questioning his guitar god dominance.
The night ended with an encore to end all encores with Matt Sorum pounding the skins to the GN’R’s classic “Mr. Brownstone” driving the crowd to hysterics. Following up with the STP’s Sex Type Thing” and closing with arguably the best VR track off of their first album or current album, “Slither.”
After a brief set by Chicago’s own Kill Hannah that included a nice surprise appearance by VR’s own Matt Sorum, Alice in Chain came out to prove they were equally a powerful live band opening up with the catchy “Again.”
The new Alice in Chains proved themselves tonight playing a solid set and showed that an audience could easily accept Comes With The Fall’s singer as front man. William DuVall has easily stepped in and taken over vocal duty once handled by the now deceased Layne Staley in an almost too perfect eerily way. To the point wondering if this is him or just forced emulation to fit the role!?! Regardless, the audience loved it and songs like “Man in the Box” and “Would” were solid but brought back equally strong memories of sadness of a life worthy of saving and not wasted away and destroyed by cliche.
Let’s hope if Alice in Chains continues as a band they go back into the studio to produce new material. Their live show proves they still have the talent but they haven’t had a new album of new material since the self-titled album in 1995. They’ve won me over live so let’s stop waxing nostalgia and see if you are still truly a band or are they just another bunch of guys tripping down memory lane. |
GNR
Written by Guest on 2007-09-05 03:11:14
Everythink that slash do is the best from him but I stil hope that one day they came back as GUN once again and show tha world what they can and must do | Written by Guest on 2007-09-05 09:04:53
LOVE THE PHOTOS | ...
Written by publisher on 2007-09-05 10:34:54
Oh I agree and I think it's sad - GN'R had it all. I saw the Buckethead incarnation of GN'R and it wasn't horrible but to me it wasn't GN'R either. I would love to see the "real" GN'R go on th road but it all depends on Mister Rose! | Great review
Written by Guest on 2007-09-06 07:19:58
Scott and Slash rock! | NRain
Written by Guest on 2007-09-06 18:54:50
The name is AXL please spell it correctly. Thanks. | Ouch...
Written by publisher on 2007-09-07 01:42:28
Burned again...true if I'm gonna rag on him I should at least spell his name correctly, fair enough! | qfavgvvu
Written by Guest on 2008-06-18 23:19:40
dcjhwleo http://ingnzuuu.com aucltlzj imvyyaia mmszygby [URL=http://myzkqtog.com]oxwpgmff[/URL] | Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 17:51:06
It's a balmy, summer evening when Izzy decides that he wants to go out. I'm all for it. We've together a little over a month and we've still yet to properly make love. Not that I mind. Well, secretly I do. I want to wrap myself around him and seal my feelings for him. I want to kiss him and hear him tell me he loves me as we tangle ourselves in the bedsheets. But it hasn't happened yet and I feel that getting out of his shabby apartment and getting some fresh air might help to quieten down my raging hormones. I'm trying to understand that he's been hurt and doesn't want to rush things. But damn! Every time I kiss him or suck his cock, all I want is to be completely connected to that beautiful body. He hasn't told me he loves me yet. It's a bit disheartening because I feel like I'm throwing myself into this and getting little in return.
I sit in the window and watch him dress, wrapping scarves and beads around his neck and wrists, before pulling a hat down over his eyes. God, I hate that hat but I refuse to tell him. He seems fragile enough without me laying into him about his dress sense. I look down at my torn jeans and dirty t-shirt. Not that mine is much better and he doesn't complain. But that fuckin' hat makes his ears stick out. I hide my mouth behind my hand as I giggle. As much as I hate that hat and as much as I hate some of his shirts, it all adds up to what makes him cute. Fuck... I just called a guy cute. I giggle a little louder and he straightens up, cocking his head and looking at me.
"What?"
"Nothing," I giggle as I open my arms. "Come here."
He pouts at me, as if he senses that I'm mentally criticising his clothes and steps up to me. I wrap my arms around him, burying my nose in his hair and inhaling the scent that's uniquely Izzy. Cheap shampoo, cigarette smoke along with a hint of body odour. It's not a bad smell and I love waking up, wrapped in his blankets long after he's gone to work and smelling it. It reminds me that he was there and soon he'll be back.
I smile and slide from the window, taking his hand. I'm not ashamed of who I am any more and it seems that neither is Izzy as he gently squeezes my fingers. I'm now quite happy to walk the streets holding onto him. Even though we've had a some abuse, no one seems to care as much as I thought they would. It's nice, nice to be able to show off the man I've fallen in love with.
The sticky summer air hits me as we step out onto the street, enveloping me. I catch my breath and glance at Izzy. He's staring straight ahead, the weather not seeming to bother him. I catch glances of him as we wind our away along streets and back alleys. He doesn't tell me but I know that we're heading towards his favourite park. He loves to sit among the trees and watch the stars, loves to lie in the grass and escape the monotony of life. And now he's including me in his little ritual.
I lean over and gently kiss his cheek, watching a small smile cross his lips. He blushes as he drops his head a little, trying to hide that he's embarrassed by my public display of affection. It's not something I normally do and he knows it. It either means something to him or he's embarrassed by me. My heart drops; I'm still new to this, still nervous and unsure of what I should do. I don't want to be some plaything to him, someone to build his confidence back up before he drops me like a stone. I want to be his. His best friend and lover. I can but live in hope.
"Thank you," he whispers, reassuring me.
I smile to myself and squeeze his hand. He doesn't look at me as we walk, not in the way that I like to look at him. I suppose he's used to this, used to someone holding his hand and walking with him so he doesn't see the need to look at me all the time. But me, I need to look at him, need to assure myself that this beautiful man is actually with me and not just a part of some distant dream.
Quietly we walk the road that leads into the park. Heavenly smells and the alien sound of birds waft over me and I smile. I like it here and I can see why Izzy does. It's peaceful and quiet, the water of the lake gently lapping against the shore. I pause for a moment and watch it, leaves slowly floating over the nearly flat surface. Izzy gently tugs on my hand and I turn my attention back to him, feeling my heart flip as those big eyes stare back at me.
"Come on," he whispers.
I frown and follow, wondering why he's so impatient. As we step into the growing shade of the trees, I wrap my arm around his tiny waist, holding him close. Normally, in public, he would have pulled away and gone back to holding my hand. But here, cloaked in darkness, he seems more comfortable as if he can hide from anything that's going to hurt or abuse him. We walk in silence, weaving in and out of the trees until the only light from the dying sun dapples the ground. It's his little hideaway, a quiet place to escape the world and his thoughts. To escape the fucker who still haunts his dreams and days.
Luckily we haven't seen Bill for a week or so. He spent some time hanging outside the apartment trying, I assume, to look tough. He did a pretty good job on me, those harsh green eyes boring into my head whenever I came or went. But he never said or did anything, just stood and watched, keeping up a vigil from dawn to dusk. He didn't have to do anything; I'm scared of him and he seems to know it, sneering at me whenever he catches my gaze. Izzy says Bill's not violent but it's only a matter of time. If someone wants something bad enough, they'll soon get physical. I'm sure that other things have happened as well but Izzy's not saying. I've seen him scrabbling to hide bits of paper. Notes, I assume, from /him/. Whether they're nice or not is a different matter, although Izzy always looks petrified whenever he's stuffing one into his pocket. Where Izzy's hiding them I don't know. I don't know if he's disposed of them or done something else with the notes. He seems to be a master of making things disappear: books, cigarettes, guitar strings, notes - they all seem to be going somewhere. One day I'll find the black hole that he's throwing things into.
"Slash," that husky voice whispers and I turn to look at him.
He's leaning up against a tree, a peaceful smile on his lips, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging from his tiny shoulders. In the low light, his eyes are black, bottomless pits just waiting for me to fall into them. I sigh happily and step up to him, my hands sliding over his milky skin as my mouth covers that smile. I feel him sigh and my cock twitches as his hands slide under my t-shirt, guitar hardened nails gently scratching at my skin. I purr, slipping my tongue into his mouth and tasting him, grinding against him as he responds. Gently I slip a knee between his legs, pushing up. He hisses in pleasure and slowly rubs himself against it, nails digging into my back. I press myself against him, enjoying the feeling of domination, enjoying feeling him squirm beneath me.
"Please..." he hisses into my mouth.
"Please what?" I reply.
He pulls away and looks at me, panting, the low light glinting off of his glazed eyes. His hands drop from my back and he pushes them between us. I step back, confused, wondering why he's pushing me away. Cocking my head to one side, I watch as he slips his hands into the pockets of his tight trousers, fumbling around for something. He finds whatever he's looking for and holds it out to me. Frowning, I take it, examining it in the coming darkness. It's a small tube of lube, lube I assume for having sex. I've never seen any before and, looking at the state Izzy's in, it's the only thing I can think of. He's leaning against the tree, staring at me and panting, erection straining against those tight jeans.
"Please Slash..." His chest is rapidly rising and falling, a hand sliding to squeeze his cock.
I swallow and stare at him, my own breath coming in pants, but from nervousness.
"Izz... I don't know how..."
He pulls me close, kissing me hard as he whispers, "It's just like being with a girl." He nips my lower lip and smiles. "Not that I'd know about that."
Suddenly he jumps, sliding up the tree, his legs locking around my waist. I groan as his cock rubs against my crotch, reawakening my softening erection. Bending my head, I kiss his neck, nipping at the silky soft skin and smiling when he moans. Carefully I place him back on the ground as I move my head to lick along his exposed collar bone. He sighs and tangles his hands in my hair, pushing my mouth to him as I kneel, licking my way down his chest. Izzy's skin is feels exquisite beneath my tongue, a feeling that I'm going to remember for the rest of my life. I flick my tongue over his nipples before gently nipping on one.
He hisses and gasps, "Oh yes."
Grinning, I give the other nipple the same treatment, listening to him gasp and moan and plead. Gripping his skinny hips, I gently kiss and lick my way towards his cock, my tongue lapping at his ribs and hipbone. I push his trousers down a little, teasing and tasting as I do. A little tuft of hair has appeared above his trousers and I bury my nose in it, kissing the soft skin beneath and inhaling Izzy's earthy scent. I hear him groan and his hips buck forwards.
Resting a hand on his hip, I whisper, "Calm down gorgeous. Nearly there..."
He makes a sound like a cross between a groan and a grunt, thrusting his hips again. Grinning, I grab his jeans and roughly pull them down, his cock springing free. This isn't how I'd imagined my first time to be. I'd imagined that I'd be the one waiting for him to screw me.
Instead, he's willing to let me try it, surrendering himself and sealing us together. Forever I hope. I flick my tongue over the head of his cock, watching it twitch and hearing him groan. Grinning, I pull back and pop the top on the lube, cautiously coating my fingers with the cool liquid. So it was like being with a girl? A virgin girl at that. My cock twitches in anticipation and I smile as I gently nudge his legs apart, listening as he gasps when my nervous fingers stroke along the underside of his cock and towards his puckered entrance. I pause, my fingertips gently brushing over his anus. Izzy trembles beneath my touch, his breathing softly panting.
"Do it," he whispers. "Just be careful."
Holding my breath, I gently push a finger into Izzy. He gasps and his muscles tightly clench around my finger. I gasp but carefully carry on pushing it in and out, stretching Izzy. My free hand softly strokes along his flanks, trying to relax him. He moans and trembles as I push in a second and third finger, gasping as I scissor them. I smile as I listen to him, feeling his hands rake through my hair as I kiss his cock. My confidence is growing, along with my cock. Izzy's hands tighten in my hair, pulling me to my feet. The fresh light of the moon bathes his body, turning him into a panting, horny apparition.
"Please," he begs, tongue flicking out to lick his lips.
How could I resist that? With no inhibitions, I drag my jeans off, watching as Izzy takes the lube from me and begins to coat my aching
cock. I groan and thrust into his hand. He smiles at me, before letting go and jumping and wrapping himself around me. Gripping his butt, I line my cock up to his entrance and gently pushing forward. He groans and buries his head against my shoulder, his nails digging into my skin. He's tight, virgin tight and I know that I'm hurting him.
I slow down and stop but he hisses, "Don't stop."
I press him against the tree and wait for him to adjust, panting and gasping as I luxuriate in the hot tightness. His heels rest in the small of my back, legs locked around my waist. They tighten, Izzy silently begging me to move. Pressing a kiss to his hair, I do, slowly thrusting. I pant in his ear, feeling his warm breath become more ragged against my neck the faster I thrust. I push in deeper and he cries out. Panicking, I stop, terrified that I've hurt him.
Instead he clings to me and yells, "Don't fuckin' stop!"
Smiling, I start thrusting again, speeding up and making Izzy scream in pleasure. He's completely wrapped around me, clinging and howling, sweat making our bodies slippery. His hands claw at my hair, tugging as his howls echo off the trees. His cock digs into my stomach, rubbing against me as we fuck. Actually, this is more than fucking. I'm feeling things that I've never felt before. Warmth and something else,
something deeper. Something primal but sweet, something akin to need.
And then it happens as he whispers, "I love you Slash..."
I feel tears prick my eyes and I tighten my hands around him, pulling him close. It's the push I need and I come, thrusting deep into his as I come, crying out his name. I thrust until I've completely emptied myself, my final thrust hitting Izzy's magic spot.
"Slash!" he screams as his come coats my stomach, his fingers digging into me.
Panting, I slide to the grass, Izzy cradled in my lap. I stare into his shadowed eyes, trying to make out his thoughts, trying to find out his secrets. I don't have to wait long as he smiles and kisses me. Hard. From the way he's holding onto me I think I've done something right. But I don't want to ask, scared that he'll tell me I was shit. I just give into his kiss, our tongues battling, hands grabbing at each other. Eventually he pulls away and smiles. I just stare at him, my heart skipping with happiness. I've never felt like this before, never felt so happy. So loved.
"I love you," I quietly whisper.
He smiles, his eyes dropping. "I know."
For a few moments, I just look at him, my hands gently pulling his shirt around him, amazed by how beautiful he looks in the moonlight. He smiles and closes his eyes against my gaze, long eyelashes dusting those pale cheeks. He takes my breath away, my moonlit porcelain doll.
"How was he?" a familiar voice breaks our spell, making my heart drop and my head turn.
The shadows move and Bill steps out into a chink of moonlight, arms crossed over his chest, a sneer on his face. He's eerily lit, all razor-blade cheekbones and gaunt, hollow cheeks. Like a walking, talking corpse. He takes a step closer, spitting on the ground as he does.
"I saw it all," he sneers, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "The whole, beautiful coupling." He spits again, this time in my direction. I scramble to my feet, grabbing my clothes, ready to face off. "He screams your name with more passion than he ever said mine." He stares into my eyes, his eyes as dead as the stone heart in his chest. "You're just another conquest to him Slash. Another notch on his bedpost."
Bill grins and I can just about see the fangs extending from his jaw. Something snaps in me and I grab his scrawny neck, snarling in his face.
"He'll never come back to you. So quit with the psycho stalker act and FUCK OFF!"
I push him away from me, watching as he stumbles back and into a pile of leaves, eyes wide with shock. Suddenly Izzy's arms go around my waist, making me jump. His head rests on my shoulder as he kisses my cheek, strong fingers brushing my hair out of his eyes. Bill stares up at us, eyes wide. His face crumples and he curls into a ball, beginning to cry.
"Izzy," he sobs. "Izzy he pushed me. He hurt me Izz."
I feel Izzy sigh against my neck, hands lovingly stroking my hair. With Izzy so close to me, my fear of Bill is evaporating.
"Go away Bill," he sighs quietly sighs. "Give up and go away. I'm not coming back."
Bill's eyes are fixed on us, tears glistening on his cheeks.
"Izzy," he pleads. "My precious, beautiful Izzy. Please come back. I love you. I'll love you more than he ever can."
I hear Izzy grind his teeth and I bring up a hand to gently stroke his head, my eyes never leaving the sobbing Bill. Whatever he's saying, I know he doesn't mean it. Bill's pure evil and I know that what he's saying isn't true. All he wants is someone to control. The warmth of Izzy leaves me and I turn to look at him. He gives me a nod, signalling that we're going. I quickly dress and give Bill one last glare as Izzy takes my hand, leading me from the trees and out onto the lit footpath. From behind us comes a pained howl, like that of an animal on its way to slaughter.
"IZZY! PLEASE!"
As I grip Izzy's hand, I have a feeling that we haven't seen the last of Bill.
| Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 18:11:16
We didn't see Bill for a few weeks after he caught us at it in the park. It was quite nice to not look out of the window and seeing him standing beneath the orange street light. It was nice not to see him sneering at me as I left the building to go to work.
It was on my way home from work that I had the bright idea. Bill wanted Izzy as his own, but Izzy wanted to be with me. It was something that made my heart swell when he purred it in my ear, purred that it was me and me only that he wanted. Izzy seemed to purr a lot. Every time I touched him, he'd smile and purr. Just like a cat. And what do cats wear? Collars of course. I smiled as I took a detour past a pet store.
The store had an array of collars, different colours and styles. It was so hard to pick one but eventually I settled on a slim black leather one. Studs and crystal stars alternated around it, a little metal plaque by the buckle. Perfect! I spied a matching leash and I couldn't resist it. Now, I'm the master of lifting things, everything from cassettes to snakes and there was no way I was going to pay thirty bucks for it. Even if it was for Izzy. I quickly looked around before dropping them into the pocket of my coat and confidently walking out.
Now I'm sitting on our dirty mattress, a small screwdriver in my hand as I scratch Izzy onto the little plaque. I've pretty much moved into his apartment. My mom doesn't mind, in fact I think she's glad to be shot of me. Most of my stuff is here except for my cats and snakes. There's no room and Izzy's not really a cat person. Which is a shame because they're extremely friendly. A little too friendly, it seems, for Izzy. Still, I go and visit them when I can. I do miss them but now I have Izzy to pet. My lovely, nail-polished, hair-dyed boyfriend. I finish and lie back, looking at the collar, smiling. It's a bit messy but it'll do. I've even managed to scratch a little heart next to his name. My porcelain doll boyfriend.
Suddenly I hear the familiar sound of footsteps and I quickly push the collar and leash under the bed. The door creaks open and he's standing there, looking tired, hair messy and straggling his face. He sighs and walks in, kicking the door shut as he does before flopping beside me on the bed.
"Hey." He smiles, turning to his face to mine.
"Hey." I lean in and gently kiss him, savouring the feel of his pouting lips against mine. "How was work?"
He shakes his head, eyes closing and sighing. "Shit as always."
Gently I stroke his hair, brushing it away from his forehead and pressing a kiss to the pale skin.
"Anything I can do to make it better?" I quietly ask, covering his face with little kisses.
He sighs, seeming to be a little happier as he drapes his arms around my shoulders, moving his mouth to mine. God, I love these moments, quiet and serene, slow and loving. I can feel warmth radiating from him, crawling under my skin and going straight to my heart. A drug that costs nothing but gives the ultimate high.
My hands stroke through his softly curled hair, gently kissing him, my tongue licking over his lips. Izzy sighs into my mouth, a leg wrapping around my waist, pulling me close.
"I've got something for you," I say into his mouth.
He pulls back and looks at me, forehead knitted into a frown. I smile and sit up, pulling him with me
Gently I brush my fingers over his eyes. "Close your eyes."
He sits, hands in his lap and eyes closed, a small frown still buckling his forehead. Reaching beneath the mattress, I pull out the collar. Brushing the hair from Izzy's throat, I carefully buckle it around the milky soft skin. It looks gorgeous sitting around his throat, enhancing the gentle curve of his collarbone that peeks out from beneath his shirt. Izzy's eyes snap open and his hands go to his throat.
"What the hell?" His eyes go wide as his fingers slip beneath it. "Why the fuck have you brought me a collar?"
I smile and gently stroke his hair, moving to kiss him.
"Because," I begin, "you purr all the time. And." I kiss him again. "Bill wants to own you so I thought I'd get you something to show that you're mine."
He pulls away and stares me, his hands still feeling the collar.
"I'm not sure I like this," he says. "I don't want to be owned any anyone. I hate that Bill thinks I belong to him and I'm not sure I want you taking the same mentality."
He reaches around and begins to undo it. Sighing, I sit and sadly watch him. I've fucked up, really fucked up. The collar falls away, landing in Izzy's lap. He picks it up and stares at it, eyes studying the tough leather and the glittering stars. Like the stars I see in his eyes, the ones that sparkle when he talks of following his dreams. Like the stars I see in on Hollywood Boulevard, the place Izzy deserves to be immortalised on. It slides through his hands, fingers brushing over the metal plaque. He holds it up, letting the light catch it as he sees his name. I feel bad, so bad for misreading what he wants. I honestly thought he wanted to belong to someone, wanted to be cared for.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, hanging my head.
"Slash." He sighs. "This relationship, you and me, it's not about who owns who. It's a partnership. We're equals. You don't own me and I don't own you." His fingers brush over my cheek, gently lifting my eyes to his. "I know you're new to this. You have to learn and so do I. I'm learning how to love again and you're learning how to be in love." He smiles and wraps his hand into my hair, pulling me into a kiss. "But this is a beautiful collar."
I watch as he releases me and wraps the collar back around his neck, closing and buckling it.
"I'm going to wear it," he continues. "But I want you to understand that it's not an representation of ownership." He smiles. "I like that you put my name on it though. That's quite cool." He purrs at me. "Besides, cats don't have owners. They just have slaves."
Again he smiles, kissing me and nipping at my lower lip. As he does, I reach back under the mattress and pull out the leash. I hide it at my side for a moment.
"If you're going to wear it, while we're in here am I allowed to do this?" I bring out the black strip of leather and clip it to the collar.
He cautiously looks at it and I can see his mind processing. Gently I pull on it, pulling his mouth to mine. I feel a purr begin in his throat, vibrating up into my mouth. He seems to be happy to play along with me as he pushes me to the bed, slinking up my body. A catlike smile graces his lips and he nips at my lips, rubbing his crotch against mine. I moan and close my eyes, feeling myself harden as he moves over me, licking and nipping, fingernails gently clawing at my clothes and skin.
"Is there something you want?" I hiss.
His tongue deftly licks along my throat and to my ear, making me shiver as his fingers scrape at my neck.
"Kitty needs a slave," he purrs into my ear. "Kitty needs to be kept happy."
He shoves a hand down my jeans and I groan as his nails gently scrape along my hardening cock.
"And if he's not happy?" I ask, my mouth quickly drying out.
His nails dig into my cock and I let out a yell. "I'll scratch."
I tug on the leash and pull his mouth to mine, kissing him hard, his cock digging into mine. Holding onto the leather, I roll him over and lavish his mouth with kisses, listening to him purr.
"Scratch me too much and I'll have you spayed." I grin and pull at his lower lip with my teeth.
He looks at me, eyes wide, face set in mock shock. "Don't spay me!"
Laughing, I sit up and strip my off my t-shirt, letting it drop to the floor before setting to work on Izzy. Pushing my hand through the loop of the leash, my fingers race down the shirt, pulling at the buttons and pushing the cheap material away from his thin frame. I bend and lick at the soft skin, my eyes on his, watching that feline grin widen. His nails rake down my back, clawing and scratching. It'll leave welts but I don't care. A little abuse; that's what I want.
I nip and bite at his chest, leaving tiny teeth marks as I move down to his jeans. I love his pants; they're always tight, outlining certain parts of his body perfectly. There's nothing I like more than walking behind him and watching his cute ass. He knows I like watching and I've caught him swinging his hips on more than one occasion. I do hate how he waits until we're miles from home and in the middle of a crowd before doing it. One day I will wind up throwing him against a wall and fucking his brains out in front of a crowd.
Pulling his pants down I hear a happy hiss as I suck and lick at his strained erection. My tongue traces the throbbing vein on the underside, making Izzy squirm and moan. Letting go of the leash, I stand and drag off my own clothes, throwing them into a pile before kneeling between Izzy's spread legs. I quickly lube two fingers and push them into him, hearing him groan and feeling him force himself onto them. Looking up at him, I see that he's grinning, his eyes squeezed shut. He really does look like the cat that's got the cream.
As I stretch him, I give my aching cock the same attention, preparing for what I imagine is going to be some fairly rough sex. He seems to want to abuse me and, if he's going to be a bad kitty, he's going to get the same treatment. Grabbing the leash, I pull out my fingers and push my cock in, draping Izzy's slender legs over my shoulders as I do. His fingers flex and scratch at me as I begin to push into him, aiming for his prostate. His back arches from the bed and his voice bounces off the walls as I hit it, nails finding and digging into my thighs. I let out a low hiss and carry on, pulling the leash to force him into a sitting position. With his legs still over my shoulders, I push him up against the wall, leaving my hands free to crawl over his body, leaving tiny scratches and dribbles of blood. Izzy snarls at me, a vicious "stop and I'll cut your balls off" snarl, eyes gleaming and glazed. He grabs one of my hands and forces it to his cock, demanding, like the minx he is, that I pleasure him before I pleasure myself. I'm more than happy to oblige, roughly jerking him in time to my frantic thrusts. Sweat and blood mix as our bodies slide against each other, voices joined as we cry out for each other. I can feel my orgasm building but I know that I have to wait, wait until he's finished.
It doesn't take long. I simultaneously sweep my fingers over the head of his cock and hit his prostate, causing him to scream my name in a voice I've never heard before. It's filled with pleasure and pain, euphoria and agony, the pain of rough sex and the pleasure of orgasm joined in one scream. His come covers both of us as he his head snaps back, the leash pulling tight. At the same time, his muscles contract around my cock, driving me to the edge. I scream his name, coming deep inside of him.
I thrust into him a few more times before gently lowering him back to the bed. He looks up at me, hair plastered to his face, eyes wide and a Cheshire Cat like grin on his lips. Panting, I smile, sweat dripping down my back and into the wounds he's left in my skin. It stings but I don't care. Coating my fingers with his come, I offer it to him, holding my hand in front of his face. His tongue darts out, deftly licking my fingers, eyes never leaving mine.
He puts one of my fingers in his mouth and sucks on it, smiling around it. "Yummy."
I can't help put grin and kiss him, his legs wrapping around my waist and pulling me to him.
~~~~
The next morning, Izzy went to work wearing the collar. It looked great sitting just above the neckline of his shirt. Izzy has a kind of asexualness that made his new accessory not look at all sexual. It just looked like another piece of jewellery. It accentuated his face and set off the bit of collarbone that poked through his shirt, deadly dark against that snow white skin. I bent and kissed his bony chest before he left. I couldn't help it. He's sensual and beautiful, halfway between male and female. Halfway between the gutter and the stars. Higher than me, slightly lower than God, an angel that fell to earth.
~~~~
A single red rose. That's what I bring when I meet him from work. Normally I don't bother because I'm working myself. Working to keep Izzy in some kind of life that's slightly better than being out on the street.
I sit on the wall outside his workplace, patiently waiting, the flower cradled in my lap. My eyes dart back and forth, watching as people come and go. I know that what Izzy does isn't entirely legal, but I don't care. Most of what we do isn't legal so who am I to care? Eventually, my dark haired sweetheart steps out from a side alley and begins his walk home. Stepping from the wall, I walk up behind him.
"Boo," I whisper.
He jumps and turns, eyes on fire as he glares, his face and hands screwed up, ready to fight. His face softens and he sighs when he sees me.
"You fucker." He presses a kiss to my lips before continuing walking.
I take his hand, holding out the rose to him with the other. Izzy takes it and admires it for a moment.
"Thank you." He doesn't look at me when he speaks but I can see his smile. "I don't think I've ever been given flowers before."
He sighs, obviously remembering bygone times.
"Did anyone ever give you gifts?" I quietly ask, not wanting to intrude too much into his thoughts.
He shrugs. "Not really. Only my family at Christmas and on birthdays. I remember some girl at school gave me a cupcake once. I don't know what for but it tasted really good. Chocolate I think."
"What about Bill?" I decide to probe a little deeper.
Izzy shudders and a dark cloud seems to descend over us. "He gave me nothing but heartache and left nothing but bruises."
I whisper, "I thought you loved him?"
Izzy's grip loosens on my hand and I feel him pull away slightly, as if his body is following his mind back to moment in time. That moment when Bill was his world.
"I did." His voice is quiet, hissing. "I really loved him. But I was just a toy to him. He made that very obvious when he told the whole school."
I decide that's enough for one day and pull him a little closer, my fingers brushing against his waist. He leans into my touch and my arm slides around his waist. I hold my breath, waiting for him to pull away. But he doesn't. He rests his head on my shoulder and I bend my head to kiss his hair, the gentle scent of strawberry shampoo wafting into my nose. He sighs and I feel happy and loved. Needed almost.
A shadow flits out from a side alley, catching my eye as it moves. A shudder crawls up my body and Izzy squeezes my hand. It's nothing, probably just a cat. Then I notice Izzy's body stiffen and the hackles on my neck rise. Izzy drops my hand and he snaps round.
"JUST FUCK OFF!" he screams. "FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Quickly I swing round and there he is, in all his glory. Bill, the stalker of Hollywood. My muscles snap to attention and my hands ball into fists. But Izzy's already there, yelling into that smirking face.
"LEAVE ME ALONE BILL!" Izzy's hands come up and push Bill square in the chest.
Bill stumbles but stays standing, still smiling in that sinister way. His fingers reach out and brush over the collar.
"I see you're his pet now." That voice, so like Izzy's but so different, grates against my brain.
Izzy just sneers at him. "It's more than I ever was to you."
"You were everything to me Izz, fuckin' everything." Bill's eyes blaze as they stand nose to nose.
Izzy shakes his head, the sneer staying in place. "So why did you do what did, huh? You painted "Izzy's gay" in five foot high letters along the side of the gym. And you call me your everything?" Izzy spits in his face and I can't help but crack a smile. "How fuckin' dare you, Bill?! How dare you call me anything. How dare you touch me! How dare you come near me!"
I can't tear my eyes away as Izzy pulls his arm back and punches Axl in the face. It's nice, square hit, the evil bastard's head snapping to one side.
I can't help punching the air and yelling. "NICE ONE IZZY!"
Bill hits the ground and I wonder how much abuse it's going to take before he finally gives up. Not easily it looks as he drags himself to his feet, glaring at Izzy.
"You little shit," he hisses, hands clawing to grab hold of Izzy.
Izzy takes a practised step back, eyes never leaving Bill, never leaving his hands. He knows what's coming and knows how to avoid it. He knows that those fists hurt, that they leave marks and pain. Not just physical pain, but emotional pain. The pain of rejection, the pain of the other pupil's mocking laughter. Prodding and poking him, jeering, their comments cutting deeper than any knife could.
"Step away from me Bill." Izzy's hands come up defensively but it's not enough as Bill's fingers slip beneath the collar, dragging Izzy to him.
In a flash, Izzy's hands come and grab at Bill's hair, tearing clumps from his scalp. Bill's fingers tighten in the collar, as he desperately tries to drag Izzy with him. I want to jump in, want to help. I'm about to when Izzy lays the mother of all kicks into Bill's groin. Instantly, Bill lets go, howling in pain as he clutches his balls. His face turns red as he snarls at Izzy. Stepping back, Izzy takes my hand, leaning protectively against me. Tendrils of red hair hang limply from his fingers.
"I'm with Slash now Bill." His voice is oddly calm. "So just leave me alone."
Bill stares at us, still doubled over, venom in his eyes. "You're mine Izzy and I will have you back. You can keep your little pet for now but you'd better watch your fuckin' back Isbell. 'Cause I'm going to come for you. And when I do..."
The threat lingers as he slinks back into the shadows, a menace that won't disappear.
| Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 18:33:31
Quickly I run through the house and out of the front door. In the gloom, I can see Axl standing on the sidewalk, staring at the house. For a moment, the moon catches his eyes, the angry green orbs now filled with something deep and soulful. He looks at me and gives me a tiny smile. It's then that I recognise the look that graces his elegant face. Heartbreak. The moon slides back behind a cloud and Axl's face disappears back into shadow. Standing on the veranda, I watch as Axl turns and begins to leave. As he slowly walks away, something in me twists. This is Izzy's friend, his childhood friend, walking out of his life forever. They may have spent years fighting and fucking each other but even I can now see the deep bond that they share. A bond that no court case or death sentence will ever sever. The have to be together. They need to be together. Even if it means that I'm the spare cog in the relationship, Axl and Izzy are one and the same, a separated spirit that somehow repaired itself through two people.
Jumping down the steps, I race after him.
"Axl!" He keeps on walking. "Axl! Wait!" I see his shoulders shudder as he stops.
Catching up with him, I gently place a hand on his shoulder. He shivers and lets out a tiny gasp as he drops his head forward.
"Get it over with Slash," he quietly pleads, voice cracking. "Please just kill me."
I shake my head, my hand gently moving to massage his neck. He tenses beneath me, his skin flickering with goosebumps before he relaxes slightly.
"I'm not gonna kill you," I quietly reply. "Come back to the house with me. Come back to Izzy. Please."
His body shudders as I gently turn him to face me. The monster that used to rule that body seems to have disappeared, leaving in its place a trembling and frightened man. He looks at me, eyes wide, as if he doesn't believe what I'm saying. His lips quiver and, beneath the streetlight, I see his eyes begin to glaze with tears.
"I can't," his voice is timid and tiny.
"Why?" I look at him softly, bringing up a hand to stroke his face.
I can't believe what I'm doing. I'm standing in the middle of the street, begging my mother's murderer to come back with me. But I can see something has changed, see that the aggression and anger seems to have evaporated into nothing. Whatever killed my mother no longer inhabits that body.
He shakes his head. "Izzy's yours now. He doesn't need me."
I swallow, my heart breaking. "You can't go," I whisper. "Not without a proper goodbye." I take his hand and tug him back towards the house. "Come and talk to him. Just one last time."
~~~~
I hear the stairs creak. Looking up, I see Slash into the basement, his hand linked with Axl's. He looks fragile and scared, hand clinging to Slash's. Leading him to the bed, Slash lets go and sits him in front of me. I give a little smile as Slash slides behind Axl, fingers sliding into the fine, red hair to lift his eyes to mine. It's surreal to see this spectacle, to see Slash treating Axl with such tenderness. I'd have expected them to be trying to kill each other.
Instead, Axl seems to have completely given in and surrendered himself to Slash. I look into those eyes, those eyes that I've looked into a million times before. In the low light, I can see what Slash was talking about. There's nothing there, no anger, no hate, nothing. Just regret and sadness and the need to be forgiven.
"Slash," I whisper, looking over Axl's head to him. "What's to say he's not faking this?"
I see Slash's chest heave as he sighs, hands still holding the sides of Axl's head. "I can just sense something, okay?"
I nod, needing to trust Slash even though my gut instinct tells me that the good ole demon Axl will be back within moments. My eyes turn back to Axl's and he's still looking at me. I stare back, studying and searching. I feel my body and heart soften as I realise that I'm seeing the Axl I originally knew. Little Bill Bailey, who was so scared of his stepfather. Little Bill Bailey who eventually became violent and temperamental. But it's the scared and nervous Bill Bailey who sits before me.
Reaching out, I gently brush hair from his eyes. His eyes flicker, darting around, as if he's not quite sure how to react.
"It's okay," I whisper. "I ain't gonna hurt you."
Damn, that brings back memories. Memories of how I first conned him into my bed. Memories of how I pleaded and begged until he lay back and spread his legs. And now it seems to have come a full circle. I abused him, he abused me. I wonder what this cycle will hold?
I continue to stroke his face as Slash leans in and gently kisses Axl's neck. Axl shivers and lets out a tiny gasp of surprise. I smile a little, feeling a little nervous. Crawling forward, I bury my hands in Axl's soft hair and kiss him. Ever so gently. Again he gasps, his soft lips parting. Slowly I sweep my tongue into his mouth. Axl stiffens beneath mine and Slash's touch, almost unsure of what's happening.
"Shush," I whisper. "We're not gonna hurt you."
My eyes flick to Slash. His hands slide down Axl, wrapping around his waist. Gently he pulls him to the bed, lying him down. Axl relents, shaking as Slash sits with Axl's head in his lap. Softly he strokes Axl's hair, whispering and purring. Dark eyes flash up to mine and he gives a little nod. Something clicks and I lean forward, stretching myself along Axl. The red-head's eyes go wide and I shake my head, trying to reassure him. I press my lips to his, closing my eyes. It feels like the first time that we did this. The first time when I carefully removed his clothes and stroked the soft, damaged skin that lay beneath. The first time when I kissed him again and again, desperate to wrap myself in him.
Axl's gasps and trembles beneath me as my fingers begin to undo his shirt. His skin feels exactly the same as it did on that stormy night. Soft and smooth but without the bruises. I continue to kiss him and a hand gently strokes my head.
Lifting my eyes, I see Slash smiling down at me, his fingers working into the strands of my hair. I give him a small smile as I move my mouth, kissing Axl's skin again and again, tender and loving. Axl lets out a quiet moan and he shudders. I hear him sob and it wrenches at my heart. Flicking my tongue across a nipple, I whisper, "Don't cry."
Again, he lets out a little sob. I move lower, kissing and licking and nipping, taking in everything about Axl that originally turned me on. Dipping my tongue into his navel, I look up. He's watching me, chest rising and falling, green eyes now dark with lust. I flick my eyes to Slash. My boyfriend smiles at me, his hands still gently working through Axl's hair. He bends forward and presses a kiss to Axl's forehead before kissing him. Axl arches from the bed, groaning.
My fingers quickly fumble with his pants, sliding them from his skinny legs. Axl's cock springs out and I stare at it for a moment. Slowly, I lean forward, my tongue flicking out to to give his cock a gentle lick. Beneath me, Axl shudders and moans, my name stuttering into Slash's mouth. I reach up and gently stroke his chest, my fingers seeming to remember the spots that make him pant and squirm.
My mouth wraps around his cock and my eyes slip shut, savouring the feeling and taste. My own cock throbs and I run a hand between my legs, grabbing it and beginning to stroke. Above me, I can hear the warm, wet sounds of lips connecting with lips. Axl's back arches off the bed, squirming beneath our touch. It seems so wrong to be wrapping ourselves around the person who's brought so much pain and hurt. Yet, for reasons unknown, it also seems so right. So right to be twisting here on the bed.
Something touches one of my gliding hands and I look up to see Slash offering me a bottle of lube. I watch him, unsure, but he nods and presses it into my fingers. Axl lets out a groan of loneliness, his hands reaching up to Slash. He smiles down at Axl, his hands burying back into the red hair as his mouth once again finds Axl's.
With my tongue still flicking over his cock, I coat my fingers and push them between his legs. Instantly, his body tenses and he pants. It's been a while since I fucked him. More than a while. Carefully, I push a finger into him, my own face scrunching up at the tightness. So long... It's been so long. My free hand presses onto his stomach, holding him still as I stretch him. His body alternates between relaxation and something nearing panic. Lifting my eyes, I watch Slash. Their faces are hidden behind a curtain of hair, the only visible movement is the sighing of two finely lined jaws.
Removing my fingers, I sit up and look down at the pair. Slash's hands crawl over Axl's slim body, finger teasing nipples. Tongues battle, twisting around each other as Axl arches his neck, hands tangling in Slash's wild hair. My own body trembles and shivers, tingling, desperate to join in.
Spreading lube over my cock, I nudge Axl's legs apart and slide myself over his beautiful body.
~~~~
For the first time in years, Izzy's cock breaches me and I howl into Slash's mouth. My teeth dig into his full lower lip and he moans as blood floods our mouths. I lie still, panting. It hurts, hurts so much. But it's a good pain. I know that beyond this is the most exquisite pleasure that only Izzy is able to bring. I don't know how this came about, how I've come to be spread out between my ex-boyfriend and his new lover. I can't understand why they haven't beaten me to a pulp. Izzy tried to kill me and he should have carried on. But, as Slash quite rightly said, the police would have hung, drawn and quartered him. They've forgiven me and they must have seen something that caused it. But for now, I don't care. My body is a mess of nerve endings and goosebumps and I'm ready to surrender myself to these two beautiful creatures of the night.
Izzy's chest is pressed against mine and I love it, my memory flooded with the remains of our happy times. I wrap my legs around Izzy's waist and nip at Slash's lip again as I rock my hips.
"Please..." I hiss. "Please... /fuck me.../"
Izzy's soft lips nip at my stomach and he thrusts into me. I moan and squirm, my cock throbbing against my stomach. Pulling myself off the bed, I rub my cock against Izzy's stomach, listening to him moan as I do. It's something I remember, something that I know he used to love. Sticking my tongue into Slash's mouth, I lick the last of the blood away before pulling away. I look into his eyes, staring into the dark, dilated pools above me.
"Let me suck you..." my voice pants.
Slash pulls back, his head still bowed, hair covering his eyes as he guides his rock hard cock to my mouth. I lick my lips and move my head, opening my throat and taking it straight down. Rocking back and forth, I alternate between sucking cock and being fucked. It's an amazing feeling, to be used, to be able to bring the pleasure that I've denied this pair for so long.
Tightening my ass around Izzy's cock, I snarl a little, teeth scrapping along the cock in my mouth. I can hear their voices, moaning and sighing and panting names, tangling and tumbling around each other.
Harder and harder Izzy thrusts, his voice becoming higher. I close my throat around Slash's cock, willing them to come. Willing them to give in and enjoy the moment.
Slash is the first to come, his seed spilling down my throat as he alternates between crying Izzy's name and mine. My hand grabs at my cock, stroking in time to Izzy's thrusts. My mouth still works at Slash's cock, sucking and drinking until it's soft. Eventually he pulls out. Panting, he bends to kiss me, his hands gently removing mine from my cock. He kisses and strokes, tasting and feeling, his tongue licking at every nook and cranny of my mouth.
Another groan fills the room as Izzy comes, his cock pumping come deep into my ass. Again and again, he pushes against my prostate and I howl into Slash's mouth, my own sticky come filling his strong hand. I pant and plead, begging them to rinse me dry. Izzy carries on thrusting into me, his body trembling against mine.
Eventually, he pulls out, collapsing to the bed beside me. Slash follows me, stretching out on the opposite side of me.
My eyes flick between them, looking and searching. A small smile spreads over Izzy's lips as he reaches to kiss me. More lips attach to my neck, fingers gently pulling me round to face Slash.
They seem to approve, seem to accept. As my eyes begin to fall shut, I just wonder what the rest of time will hold.
| Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 18:55:25
To everyone at Ficwad - Thanks for 2300 views!
Grinning, we head back down into the basement, our hands linked, twisting and untwisting. Letting go of Slash, I crawl onto the bed and pet Axl's long hair.
"Axl," I whisper. "Wake up Axl."
He purrs and stirs, eyes lazily opening and closing. A beautiful smile that I haven't seen in years twists his lips.
"Izzy," he quietly replies, arms stretching up to welcome me into an embrace.
I return his smile and willingly stretch into his arms, shivering slightly as they drape over my shoulders.
"Hey." I quietly continue as he softly presses his lips to mine.
Instead of replying, he just lies there, eyes barely open, his lips still arched into that smile. Pressing myself to him, I slide his arms further down my back. Far enough for Slash to snap a pair of steel handcuffs onto them. Axl's eyes widen and his nostrils flare as the cool metal touches his skin. I press another teasing kiss to his lips as I wiggle from under his arms.
His eyes blink, confused, as we stand over him. "Wass happenin'?" he murmurs.
Slash grins and snaps a chain to the middle of the cuffs, gently tugging Axl from the bed.
"We're gonna have a bit of fun." The chain pulls straight and Axl's forced to put his feet down.
He stands and yawns, still in the dazed post-sleep state. Slash lets out a low laugh and tugs Axl to the centre of the room.
He winks and hands he the chain. "Here, hold onto your pet."
I can't help but snort a laugh as Slash begins to rummage around the room. Soon, leather cuffs, rope and spreader bars are set out in the tiny space between myself and Axl. Slash looks at me before sliding the chain from my fingers.
"You'd better get your new pet prepared." His eyes are already darkening and I can see his cock beginning to press against the front of his pants.
Letting out a low sigh, I look at Axl. He seems more awake but, oddly, isn't protesting at the pile of metal and leather. In fact, he's staring at it with a keen curiosity as if he's never seen such objects before. The green eyes blink and look at me as I pick up the spreader bar.
"Whatca doin' Izz?" he quietly asks.
I grin and kneel at his feet, nudging them apart with the ends of the bar. "Like Slash said; having some fun."
I watch his expression change from curiosity to mild horror as I fasten the wide leather cuffs around his ankles. Glancing upwards, I watch as Slash helps to hold him upright, the chain held a little higher as he presses a hand firmly to Axl's chest. Unable to help myself, I dart my tongue out and take a taste of Axl's flaccid cock. He shivers and moans, the soft flesh beginning to twitch to life. My own cock begins to poke up and I push a hand into my bottoms, my thumb ghosting over the tingling head. My cock twitches and my thumb quickly becomes sticky with precome.
Shaking, I stand, my knees weak as I look at Axl. His legs are spread, almost painfully so and he looks at Slash and I as if he has no idea what's coming. Picking up the leather wrist cuffs, I slowly move behind Axl. Slash releases his wrists from the metal cuffs and pushes Axl's arms behind him. A squeak comes from Axl and he struggles a little as I fasten the soft material around his wrists. It's a short-lived fight, not even enough to really register, as I raise pull his arms up and back, attaching them to the chain that dangles from the ceiling.
Peering over Axl's bent form, I see Slash sitting back in the easy chair, naked. His legs are spread, cock rock hard. I can just about see his eyes, dark, glazed coals, peering between the strands of hair. Small, shallow breaths make the hair vibrate and he motions me to stand in front of me.
"Take a look, Izz," he pants quietly.
Turning, I do. Axl stands there, bent forward and head hanging. Hair trails over his face and I can just see his chest rising and falling as he pants with us. Like us, his cock is hard, anticipating what's coming. Groaning, I wrap my hand around my cock and begin to jerk off to the sight. It's almost too much and I would have come in moments if Slash's voice hadn't interrupted me.
"Take him," he purrs. "Take him and claim him back Izzy. He's yours." I hear a small snicker. "My gift to you Izz. Yours to punish as you see fit."
It's odd to hear Slash talking like that, but it almost seems fit. Seems fit to have Axl suspended as he is, a gift of dark and twisted pleasure. Taking my hand from my cock, I walk up to him and run a finger under his chin. Lifting his face to mine, I brush the red hair from the glazed green eyes and stare at him. He pants, almost struggling to breathe. Yet he seems to have no fear. If he does, it's well hidden, hidden beneath the lust that now etches his face. I smile a little and lean in, pressing a kiss to those lips. Those lips that had abused me so many times before. The lips that now remained silent as he kissed me back.
The chain clanked as Axl struggles against it a little. "Take me Izz..." he pants, green eyes darkening further. "Abuse me..."
Nipping at Axl's lips, I hiss, "Gladly."
Leaving him hanging, I fetch a bottle of lube. I'm not going to bother giving him the satisfaction of being stretched. He's already painfully turned on as it is so me just slamming into him should be a relief. With my cock lubed, I push Axl's ass cheeks apart and place the head against his sensitive hole. My hands grip his hips and he twitches beneath my touch. Grinning, I nip at the skin between his shoulder blades before forcing myself in. Axl comes to life, his body stiffening as he screams. His arms stiffen above him and he tries to escape. But there is no way out. No way out of this dungeon.
Lifting my head, I look over Axl's shoulder to Slash. He's watching intently, hand tightly wrapped around his cock. He strokes, occasionally rocking his hips. Just watching him, just watching my lover jerk off is enough to drive me crazy. Growling, I sink my teeth into Axl's flesh and begin to thrust harder. He tightens around me as he tries to rock, the chain jangling above us. Grunts and moans escape from his lips and I bite harder. Hard enough to draw blood. The warm metallic taste floods my mouth and I hungrily lap at it, a beast on a mission.
Amid the moans and pants that fill the room, Slash's voice reaches me, "Come for me Izz..."
Tears pool in my eyes, I'm that close. I can feel my whole body tightening in preparation. I dig my nails into Axl's hips, thrusting faster and harder. I must have hit his prostate because he howled, screaming my name as he threw his head back. A wave of red hair settled over my own as I bury my head into his back. Reaching around him, I take his engorged cock in my hand and begin to thrust in time to my strokes.
"Come on Axl," I growl, teeth again nipping at his pale flesh. "I know you wanna come."
I feel his body moves as he nods, head falling forwards. So close... So very close... Scraping my nails along his cock, I let out a howl, screaming Slash's name as I fill Axl's ass. I carry on pounding away at him, my whole body on fire, my voice screaming Slash's name again and again. Somewhere, amid the pounding in my head, I hear Slash scream as he comes. A moment later and Axl joins us, his sticky come filling my hand. I jerk him until he's soft before finally pulling out. Trembling, I walk around him and wrap my clean hand in the red hair. Lifting his head, I offer my come-covered hand to him. Axl looks at me through glazed eyes. His tongue darts from his mouth and, like the obedient pet he's going to become, begins to clean his come from my hand. I shiver as, like Slash, his fingers work into every tiny crease of my hand, his green eyes flashing with lust as he watches me. My face stays impartial, never showing that this, holding him in such a position, is turning me on.
Dropping his head, I reach up and unclip the chain. Axl crumples to his knees, head hanging, his legs still painfully spread behind him. His arms dangle behind him and he shivers. I look down at him for a moment, taking in the position of defeat before walking around him and releasing his wrists. Never looking at me, he brings them in front of him and rubs them. Slash, still naked and with come stiffening his pubic hair is suddenly beside me. Grabbing a handful of Axl's hair, he growls and pulls him to his feet. He doesn't protest as Slash drags him to a hard wooden chair. Throwing him into it, Slash quickly binds Axl's arms to the wood rests, leaving the leg spreader on.
"You're gonna watch," he growled. "While Izzy and I make love."
Axl nods, hair still in his eyes, eyes wide beneath it. Moving, Slash stands in front of me, smiling. His strong arms pick me up and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the bed. I press my mouth to his, kissing him hungrily as he throws me down. In an instant, he's on top of me, his cock already hard. He growls and snarls, attacking my mouth with kisses. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him close, bucking my hips to rub my hardening cock against his. We squirm and pant and hiss as we slide our bodies over each others, hands clawing as we grab and scratch at each other. Hungry, primal sex.
I greedily stroke my cock as I watch Slash lube his, our watcher forgotten as he throws my legs over his shoulders and pushes deep into me. Snarling, I arch my back from the bed, my nails scratching down Slash's firm, tanned back. He buries his head in my neck, nipping at my throat as he roughly pushes into me. To Axl, it probably looks like he's raping me. But to us, this is how we show our love for each other. Most of the time it's gentle and slow. But there are times when we can't help but grab and claw at each other, tongues battling as we roll around on the bed.
Snarling, I wrap my legs around Slash's waist and push him up and onto his back. I howl as I impale myself on his cock, throwing my head back as I place my hands on Slash's chest. His hands grab at my hips as I rock myself up and down, screaming as his cock brushes against my prostate. My cock throbs between my legs and I wrap my hand around it, roughly stroking as I raise and lower myself again and again.
Our voices tangle around each other, our hands alternating between grabbing at each other and clawing at my cock. Slash lays his hand over mine and we stroke my cock in unison. His fingers and mine twist around each other, stroking at my hard, sensitive flesh. I know I'm going to come soon, can feel it building like a pressure cooker inside of me.
A howl rips from my lungs and I throw my head back as I come, my seed spraying over Slash and myself. I tighten around Slash and he growls, his free hand ripping at my flesh as he pushes up into me, filling me. My body trembles and tingles as I carry on riding Slash, draining everything he has to offer.
Finally I slide from Slash and curl up beside him, turning to look at Axl.
He sits there, panting and shivering against his bonds, his chest covered in the glistening slime of come. He looks at us, green eyes glazed with lust. A smile cracks his face and he licks his lips, tasting a little of himself.
"Well done," Slash purrs over my shoulder before placing a kiss to my goose-pimpled skin. "You're beginning to prove yourself to be a worthwhile pet."
Another kiss was pressed to my shoulder as Slash pulled a blanket over us. I grinned and turn to him, burying my face in the welcome warmth of his hair. Axl will be staying in that chair for now. At least until Slash and I are finished with each other.
| Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 19:13:58
Slash is upstairs, curled up and shivering. I've left a bucket beside the bed; I know he's going to be sick at some point. Know that the virus that is heroin has to come out some way or another. He says he wasn't in deep but his body says otherwise. He's currently in a state of delirium; he has no idea where he is or what's going on. I'm not even sure if he knows who I am.
Gripping the wooden handrail, I quietly descend into the basement. Go into the bowels of hell to confront him. It needs to be done so I'll do it while Slash is sick. Do it before any kind of tenderness returns to my heart.
Gritting my teeth, I walk through the darkened room and to the bed. In the low light, I can see Axl, curled up and asleep. The light forms shadows around the chain that runs from his neck and to the wall, a metal collar clamped around his throat. He didn't seem to mind when I fitted it. Didn't seem to complain. Just watched with the doe-eyed contention of someone who knows that he's now owned. I switch on the bedside light, watching as Axl's eyes flutter beneath his hair. Reaching out, I unscrew the chain from the collar, fitting a leather leash in its place. Do you honestly think we'd let this man wander free around our home? What he's about to receive here is going to be far worse than anything he'd have to face in prison.
Arms stretch to wrap around me and I bat them away. "Not tonight, Axl."
He pouts at me from beneath his hair, lips curling seductively. But I'm not going to give in. Not tonight.
I tug on the leash. "Get up."
Silently, he does as he's told, still watching me from beneath his hair.
"Izz..." he whispers. "Wanna play..."
"Not tonight," I repeat, turning from him as I do.
I can feel my heart tugging in my chest, every fibre of my being wanting to just crack. Wanting to just throw him over the desk and fuck him till he bleeds. But I won't. He's going to bleed in other ways.
"Jeff..."
I stop in my tracks, turning to look at him with wide eyes. So rarely do I hear that name, the name that was whispered to me beneath dark skies and white sheets. The name that he only uses when he really wants to get under my skin, when he wants to see me arch beneath his touch. When he wants to hear me cry his name, the name he buried deep within himself.
"Bill..." I quietly sigh, swallowing as I look at him.
He brings a hand up, sweeping the hair from his face as the chain rattles from his neck. His eyes are wide and sorrowful, as if he knows what I'm planning. Tugging on the chain, I attach it to the hook in the ceiling, my eyes dropping from his. Kneeling by a big wooden box that Slash dragged home, I listen as Axl tugs on the chain. Trying to get free. I'm quickly on my feet, pulling his arms behind him and restraining them with handcuffs. He turns his head to look over his shoulder at me, snarling as his eyes flash.
"Jeff..." he hisses again, voice changed from the sultry one he used earlier.
I shake my head and stoop down to the box. Reaching in, my hand wraps around a slender piece of cane. I straighten up and walk behind him, watching as he snarls at me.
"Shut up," I whisper. "I ain't gonna help you this time."
My arm snaps back before slamming the flexing cane into the tender flesh of his back. Axl arches, screaming as it cuts the skin apart. Snarling to my self, I grab a discarded bandanna from the floor, tying it into his mouth. I look at the hate-filled face for a second longer before pulling my fist back and slamming it into his nose. He recoils back, blood beginning to drip from his nose.
Brushing the hair from his ear, I whisper, "I'm gonna make you bleed, Axl and you're gonna like it." I yank on his hair, snarling as I sink my teeth into his throat. "It's been a long time comin' asshole."
Axl's head swings round as he headbutts me. With the feeling of blood in my nose, I change weapons, instead choosing something I managed to procure for just this occasion. To many, it looks like a traditional cat o' nine tails. But if you look a little closer, each tail has a tiny hook of lethally sharp surgical steel. I knew I was going to make him bleed and now I have just the instrument for it.
Grabbing his hair, I pull his head back and force it into his face. "I'm gonna tear you to pieces, /Bill/. You know you fuckin' deserve. And you better be glad it's me doing it and not Slash. Because, seriously, he will kill you."
I drop his head and pull away before I snap his neck. As the memories of what he's done flood my mind, I can feel the rage building. Storming behind him, I raise the whip and slam it into his back. The hooks catch his flesh, tearing at it and blood bubbling to the surface. Axl howls and arches his back, stretching away from the pain. Again I do it, fascinated by the way the hooks tear apart his skin like butter. Slick, red blood slides down his back, pooling in his ass crack before dripping onto the floor. Axl gives up screaming, realising that no one is going to help him now.
Not even me.
Again and again and again I apply the viciously hooked whip, growling and snarling, letting the anger vent from me. Again and again and again, Axl trembles and whimpers, occasionally begging. Again and again and again the steel hooks catch his already tattered flesh, flecks of it caught around the pointed barbs.
Eventually, drained and tired, I drop the whip. Panting, I let my head drop forward, my muscles aching and sweat dripping from my body. My fingers uncurl and the whip drops to the floor with a quiet thud. From beneath my hair, I look at Axl. His body hangs limp, equally as tired but far more broken. The carpet at his feet is soaked red. He looks to have lost a lot of blood but I don't care. A few days of rest and good food and he'll be on the mend. He slowly breathes, rattling, pained breaths escaping from his mouth.
"Izz..." he croaks around the fabric gag, too weak to even look up at me.
Walking up to him, I tiredly wrap an arm around his waist and reach up to uncouple him. He lets out a groan and collapses into my arm. As gently as I can, I drag him to the bed and lie him on his front, my hands working the gag from his mouth. His punishment isn't over yet. The wounds need dressing and I have just thing.
Reaching beneath the bed, I bring out an airtight tub. Unscrewing the top, I reach in and take out a handful of the white grain. Liberally I sprinkle it over Axl's back before rubbing it in.
The howl of anguish should have shaken the house down as I rub the salt deep into the wounds. I grin and hit him around the back of the head, forcing his mouth into the feather pillow.
"Shut up," I hiss. "It'll help 'em heal."
Holding his head into the pillow, I rub in handful after handful of salt, feeling him wince and tremor and buck beneath me as it sears into the wounds. I hate what I'm doing to him but it has to be done. I hate ruining that perfect pale skin in the same way that his father did but he needs to learn his place. He needs to know that he's no longer at the top of the food chain. If he wants to stay with us, he needs to be punished. And not just sexually. What he did to us can never be reversed. My soul will forever be scarred by what he's done to me and Slash will never recover from the death of his mom. And that's a terrible thing to have to live with.
Slash has never spoken about it till now. Never spoken about what it's like having his mom's killer live beneath our roof. But I suspect that he might now. Might come out of his cocoon. Axl's next punishment will be coming from him. Whether Axl will survive it or not is another matter.
| Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 19:28:44
Was this cheating? Was kneeling here, in a filthy alleyway, cheating on Slash?
I can feel the grit digging through the knees of my already dirty jeans. The guy's cock is forced down my throat and his hands tear at my hair, forcing me to look into his ugly face. He sneers, his bad breath reaching me even while I'm on my knees. I choke and cough, pulling back slightly, eyes watering. This horrible, hell. I can't believe I'm here, behind some shithole club on Sunset, sucking some drunk's cock.
The hand in my hair tightens as his other hand clips me across the face.
"Fuckin' get to it," he hisses.
Grimacing, I wrap my mouth back around his stinking cock and begin to suck again, harder and faster, hoping to get him off. He whines and moans, strong fingers pulling on my hair. He wants to abuse me and I deserve to be abused for doing this to Slash. I cough and struggle a little, trying to push myself away. But he just pushes my nose deeper into his lice ridden pubes. This is what he wants, someone to struggle with him.
I suck harder, tears forming in the corners of my eyes as strands of hair are torn from my scalp.
Come, you bastard! Just come already!
Instead, I find myself being dragged away from his cock. With a strangled cry, I'm dragged to my feet. The stinking guy, in his expensive suit and polished shoes, drags me, screaming and kicking to a dumpster.
"NO!" I plead, sensing what's coming. "PLEASE NO!"
He slams me into it, the rusting metal digging into my stomach. Panting for breath, I kick and lash out, trying to free myself. A heavy hand hits me across the back of the head, slamming my face into the closed lid. Stars dance before my eyes and I sway a little, only just aware that my jeans are being cruelly dragged from my ass. Lifting my weary head, I cough and spit blood onto the dirty pavement as those hands knead the flesh of my ass.
Blowjobs. That's all I was going to do. But look where that's fuckin' got me.
Trembling, I begin to pull away again, reaching for my jeans. Again, I'm brutally pushed against the dumpster, my legs kicked apart. I give a little cry, a tear that was dangling from my lashes dropping down my cheek. It's no good fighting. The guy's stronger than me. I may as well take this like the whore I've had to become.
Resting my head against the cool metal of the dumpster, I brace myself and obediently spread my legs. A whiskey soaked snigger fills my ears as fingernails dig into my hips. I squeeze my eyes shut, body tensing as I prepare myself.
A howl tears from my lungs as the evil bastard's cock tears into me, throwing my body against the putrid dumpster again and again. The metallic sound of it hitting the wall rings through my head and I'm surprised that no one's turned up to find out what's happening.
But this is Hell-LA. No one cares. Not even the police.
His nails cruelly tear at the naked skin of my hips as he rams himself in again and again, seeking the ultimate high from the cruellest of pleasure. My body trembles beneath him and I give in, finally letting the tears swell from my eyes and down my cheeks.
"No," I pathetically plead. "Please no. Please no. Please no..."
My voice trails off and dies in the dryness of my throat. Shaking, I lean against the dumpster and let my body be violated, wishing that it was Slash's arms that were around me instead of the arms of this man. The arms that have alcohol fused sweat seeping from the pores and onto me. The sweat that will stain my skin for many moons to come. I don't know whether I'll ever be able to get rid of the smell and the feeling of being raped and abused.
Pain filled fireworks explode behind my eyes as he hits the spot that's supposed to bring pleasure. My back arches and muscles tighten as I let out a groaning sob.
"NO!" I scream. "PLEASE NO!"
My cock twitches between my legs and I shiver, pleading and begging again. I don't want to come. Not like this. Not while I'm being used by some stranger. He laughed hoarsely behind me and speeds up, his awful cock knocking against that spot again and again. My cock hardens, painfully, and the tears come more frequently. A strangely soft hand wraps around my cock and roughly begins to stroke.
I shake and tremble more, my voice getting higher. I don't wanna come. I don't wanna come...
BANG! A scream rips from my mouth as I spill my seed against the metal container. My body shakes and, behind me, I hear the fucker's voice join mine as he pumps his ugly, disease ridden come fills me. God only knows what I'm going to catch from this guy. Slash has heroin. I now probably have AIDS.
He thrusts in a few more times before he drops me. My knees buckle and I hit the concrete, my head falling forward as come and blood drip from my ass and cock. Something, like snow, flutters past my eyes, falling to the ground before me.
"Keep the change," he man snarls.
Weakly, I collect the crumbled bills and look at them. Twenty dollars. That's it.
I hope Slash appreciates it.
| Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 19:29:43
Axl crouched at the bottom of the basement stairs, his chain trailing back to the bedhead. His eyes watched the crack at the bottom of the door. He could see who was walking back and forth. A click of the front door and Izzy would be gone for the evening.
Back and forth he watched tightly clad legs go, coming and going, fetching and carrying. His green eyes briefly flicked to the ceiling as it creaked. A smile curved Axl's face as he sat, goblin like, at the bottom of the basement stairs. Soon... Soon Izzy would be gone for the evening.
The skinny legs, clad in skin tight jeans, slowly walked past the door. Axl's breath hitched as they stopped and he backed up, ready to crawl back into the bed. His green eyes flicked back up the stairs. Beneath the door, he could see the points of Izzy's suede boots. The right one tapped up and down slowly, counting out beats. Or thinking.
Nervously, Axl carried on watching. He flicked his tongue out, wetting his suddenly dry lips as he carried on focussing on the shoes. And then they were gone. Breathing a sigh of relief, Axl knelt at the bottom of the stairs, head cocked as he listened for the door.
There was a click and a smile flashed across Axl's lips. Unclipping the chain, he stood and wrapped a blanket around his nude form. Izzy had taken his clothes, believing it would make him more subdued, more quiet. But it didn't.
With the smile still on his face, he crawled up the stairs, each step creaking beneath his bare hands and feet. Reaching the door, he rattled it. Locked. He knew it was locked but it wasn't going to stop him. Palming a sliver of plastic to his fingers, Axl slid it between the frame and the lock. Gritting his teeth, he wriggled it, grinning as the metal lock gave way enough for him to push the door open.
Creeping from the basement, he looked around himself. The downstairs was in darkness, long shadows being cast by the harsh streetlights. Two guitars were leaned against the wall of the living room. An acoustic and an electric. An unflattering sneer twisted his lips; he'd heard them play, night after night, beautiful music flowing from their fingers as they played their favourite songs. A few Axl hadn't even recognised, songs he assumed that Izzy had written.
"You always were better at everything Jeff."
Axl flicked his head at the memory. Izzy always had been better had everything; stealing, riding bikes, fucking, being creative. It had always been Izzy who'd lead the way. But things were going to change.
Drawing his eyes from the white guitar, Axl crept to the stairs. Placing a hand on a step, he quietly began to crawl up them, his body trembling with anticipation the closer to the top he went. He'd wanted to do this for a while, wanted to escape from the prison below the stairs. Wanted to see the rest of the house. Wanted to see its sick occupant. He sneered. His wish was finally coming true and he was going to savour every moment.
With his belly close to the floor, Axl slithered towards the master bedroom. He knew this was where they stayed. He knew this was where they slept. The cool breeze that drifted beneath the door carried faint odours. Odours of clean sheets, a tinge of vomit and the musky scent of sex. Axl grinned and reached up, catching the door handle between his fingers.
It swung open and Axl slinked in, body low to the floor. As with the rest of the house, the room was dark. He turned his head to the bed and grinned. A lump, beneath the blankets, moved slowly, breathing steadily. Clawing at the blankets, Axl pulled himself onto the bed. Crawling along the big bed, he found himself nose to nose with a sleeping Slash. Slowly, he licked his lips, taking in the sight of the sleeping man.
Soft curls fell in front of his face, moving with each soft breath. Dark eyes were squeezed shut, hands tucked beneath the pillow. Axl sighed, his cock twitching beneath his legs as he watched the sleeping Slash.
Sliding between the sheets, he let his hand drift to his hardening cock. A soft sigh left his lips as his fingers locked around it, stroking it to full hardness. Just looking at the sleeping form of Slash was enough to turn him on. What he was planning had been enough to make him orgasm again and again over the previous days.
Pushing the blanket up, Axl moved, hovering over Slash's smooth, naked back. He could feel his mouth beginning to water at the sight of the dark, smooth flesh beneath him. Carefully, he nudged Slash's legs apart, spreading the soundly sleeping man.
Slash was flat out, dreaming drug dreams and completely unaware of what was happening to him. Salivating, Axl bent his head, tongue flicking out and tasting Slash's spread ass. It was years since he'd done this, years since he'd taken another by force. Excluding Izzy, he'd done it several times over the years, fucking people while they were sleeping. Or while they were bound and gagged in some out of the way place. Axl didn't care, as long as he got what he wanted.
Sneering, he chuckled and knelt up, positioning his cock to Slash's hole.
"Now," he whispered, "let's see if you've finally succumbed to Izzy?"
Pushing forward, he let out a small sigh as Slash's ass enveloped him. "Yep. You have."
Placing a hand on Slash's hip, he slowly began to thrust, smiling as the man began to twitch beneath him. Somewhere, off in his dreams, Slash was probably dreaming about being fucked by his dream man. No doubt he was dreaming off Izzy, not the red-haired demon from below the stairs.
Axl purred, his free hand stroking along Slash's back, taking in the shallow curves and the rise of his ass. Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around a hard buttock, squeezing a little as he carried on pushing deep into him. Again, Slash twitched and he turned his head, a smile crossing his serene face.
"Izz..." he whispered, full lips curling.
Suppressing a laugh, Axl shook his head, soft red hair trailing over his face. He was enjoying this too much. The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the ride. The chance that at any moment, he may get caught. Snarling, he pushed in deeper and harder, watching as the other man began to pant in his sleep. Slash's long, strong fingers began to rake at the bedclothes as he arched his back again, completely unaware of who, or what, was happening to him. The little mewls of pleasure that floated from his lips drove Axl faster, himself panting and squirming.
So tight... So delicious...
He couldn't understand why he hadn't done this sooner. Why he hadn't come and taken Slash. Why he hadn't revelled in the beautiful shadow's lush body. Axl could feel his own body tingling, orgasm speeding towards him. Closing his eyes, he pushed in deeper, fingers gripping at the sleeping man's hips.
"Yeah..." he hissed. "You're fine, aren't ya?"
Beneath him, the other man purred, back coming up as he offered himself to Axl. Grinning, Axl bent forward, teeth nipping at the rounded flesh of his ass, tasting him.
So close... So near...
Axl whined and panted, sweat beading on his face as he pleaded for his orgasm to wash him away on a wave of pleasure.
Suddenly, the room was flooded with light. Slash twisted beneath him, eyes fluttering open, becoming wide and terrified as he looked up at Axl.
"What. The. Fuck. IS GOING ON?!" a voice bawled.
With his cock still buried in Slash, Axl turned, a lump forming in his throat. Behind him, an enraged Izzy stood, dark eyes burning with hate and anger. Slash struggled underneath him, pained noises coming from his throat. Slowly, Axl began to back off, heart thudding. He couldn't help letting a small grin form on his lips.
In a heartbeat, Izzy was beside him, strong hands pulling on his red hair. With a cry, Axl tumbled to the floor, curling into a ball as he landed.
"You /fucker!/" Izzy cried. "You utterly worthless piece of shit!"
Axl grunted, white pain flaring through his body as a foot connected to his ribs.
"You fuckin' cunt!" Izzy carried on. "How dare you touch him! How dare you go near him! Why I let you back in my life I'll never fuckin' know."
Struggling, Axl found himself being dragged to his feet. Izzy's strong hands tangled in his hair, hauling him from the bedroom. Groaning and mewling, Axl kicked and struggled.
"Izz," he hissed. "Izz, please no."
Looking up, he found himself hanging over the top of the stairs. His feet teetered on the edge and he desperately tried to rock back.
"Izz," he quietly repeated. "Izz, please, don't do this."
"You're a cunt, Axl," he heard Izzy hiss. "And I'm gonna get rid of you once and for all."
A knee came up to Axl's back, the hand tightening a little in his hair. Gasping, Axl looked down the length of the stairs before flicking his eyes over his shoulder. Izzy, looking like he'd never seen him before, was barely holding onto him. Rage was etched into his face, his eyes dark. His mouth was set and Axl could see his jaw working as he ground his teeth, obviously trying to suppress something else.
"Just fuck off Axl," he hissed quietly.
A cry left Axl's mouth as the hand loosened and knee came forward.
| Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 19:49:11
We pulled into New Orleans a few days ago. The car slid along the streets of the French Quarter, looking for somewhere to stop for the night. We took in the sights, sounds and smells. Mardi Gras was in full swing when we arrived and people dressed in a kaleidoscope of colours peered in at us. Some waved, some smiled. Some just gave us the creeps. We were in a whole different world to LA.
Our apartment is nothing really to write home about. It's not even really an apartment, more of a glorified room above a little blues bar. It's pretty much like Izzy's old apartment except with a much better view. Hell, we even have a balcony! It's great to sit out there in the balmy evening, listening to the music floating up to us as people party and the rich scent of southern cooking wafts over us.
And man, am I ever loving the cooking! It really is soul food and I can feel myself getting better and growing stronger. I'm beginning to live and love again. Never has Izzy looked so good to me. Never has he looked so beautiful and so ethereal. As he stands in the corner of the bar, guitar strapped over him and fingers plucking the blues, I can only stand and wonder why he's stayed with me for so long.
As I polish glasses, my eyes follow Izzy. He stands in a dark corner, eyes closed as he sways to the music he's making. Beautiful, sweet and slightly melancholy blues. In the low lit bar, a few people sit at small tables, smoke gliding into the air. Barely anyone talks, bar to order drinks, all as captivated as I am.
The owner of the club took pity on us, letting us take over the unused stock rooms above it. We appreciate the gesture and, in return, work for him. I serve drinks to the slow moving patrons beneath the light of flickering neon signs while Izzy entertains them with his equally lazy licks.
We're off the beaten track, hidden away from the main drag of Bourbon Street. Only those that are in the know hunt us out. Sometimes stragglers find us, but it's a rarity.
One such straggler is sat by the stage, eyes following Izzy's every move. Red hair, that looks a dark, deep copper in the dim light, is brushed over their slender shoulders, twitching as they occasionally sway with the music. They're dressed entirely in black, delicate lace hanging from their waif like arms while velvet trousers encase their long legs. If I hadn't seen the gentle swell of their breasts as they walked past me, I'd have been more worried. A hell of a lot more worried.
Placing a glass on the counter, I smile as I hear Izzy's husky voice begin to hum the lyrics to a long forgotten song.
There is a house in New Orleans...
... They call the Rising Sun ...
... And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy...
... And God I know I'm one...
I look up and notice him smiling at the girl. My heart twitches as she stands, swaying a little, captivated. In the next instant, the glass I'm holding shatters on the tiles as she presses her lips against his. Yet he never stops playing. What may have been a fleeting second in the real world is an eternity in mine as the kiss seems to linger. Then Izzy nudges her away with his toes and shakes his head with an embarrassed smile. I see him mouth /sorry/, his eyes flicking to mine. Her eyes follow his and I find myself under a painful glare. I try and smile, giving her a tiny wave, but the damage is already done.
Well, I got one foot on the platform..
... The other foot on the train ...
... I'm goin' back to New Orleans ...
... To wear that ball and chain...
Izzy drops the guitar onto a strand, the last of his notes fading and dying in the heavy air. Stepping from the stage, he ignores the girl as he trots over to me, brushing dark hair from his eyes as he smiles.
"Hey," he whispers, leaning on the bar and gazing up at me.
I can't help but return that smile, the smile that has fixed my broken heart a million times before.
"Hey," I quietly reply as soft music begins to fill the air again. This time it comes from a stereo, hidden beneath the bar, recorded and manufactured stuff.
Turning away from him for a moment, I pluck a bottle of water from a fridge and place it in front of him. Izzy smiles and picks it up, eyes never leaving mine as he delicately places the neck to his lips and drinks. I shiver as I watch him, mind drifting to where that mouth might be later. On my lips... On my neck... On my cock...
Dropping me face, I hide behind my hair as I blush. Izzy's spent the past few nights teasing me and driving me crazy. We haven't had sex yet here in New Orleans, but it can only be around the corner. Instead I've found myself pinned to our bare mattress as he strips off and touches himself, freshly calloused fingers leaving pale red marks in their wake. Shifting from one foot to the other, I try to divert my mind away from what might happen later, placing newly cleaned glasses back on the shelves as I try to distract myself. But out of the corner of my eye, I can see her watching us. Feel her eyes boring into my head as she sends death glares into my head.
Swallowing nervously, I turn back to Izzy. Leaning my elbows on the bar, I cup his face, nudging the bottle away with my nose. My tongue darts out, licking his now wet lips before pushing between them and into the warmth of his mouth. I hear him gasp, fingers tangling in my curls as he tugs me close, the kiss becoming more hungry. The warm, soft point of Izzy's tongue pushes against my lips, encouraging me to open up. I do, sighing as his tongue drifts into my mouth, teasing and touching, making me sigh.
Eventually we pull away, just leaning our foreheads together as we stare into each others eyes. Smiles play on our lips and I flick my tongue over Izzy's lips.
"I'm gonna fuck you later..." he purrs, eyes glittering.
I chuckle and gently kiss him again, my whole body tingling with anticipation. The girl is sidling closer, hair falling into her eyes as she watches us. Pulling away, I look at her.
"Are you two," she says in a husky voice, "together?"
My eyes drop to the floor as I nod. I feel a hand in my hair and Izzy's voice answers for me, "Yes, we are. Can I help you in any way?"
The girl shrugged and smiled weakly. "I was just wonderin' if you were single." She bit her lip, looking at the floor. "Obviously not."
Izzy's sighs and I look up to see him smile. "Sorry."
He turns to me and takes my hand. "Come on, Slash. Time to clock off."
I still feel weak, still wondering if Izzy will go off with the girl. I mean, she looks like Axl. All that red hair, the slender body. She could be his sister.
Walking towards the stairs, I can feel her eyes following us. I know we're going to see her again, I can just feel it.
"D-Do you like h-her?" I quietly ask.
"No," Izzy quietly replies. "I don't like girls." He smiles at me. "I like boys. You should know that by now."
Stopping, I smile weakly at him. Looking around the dim stairwell, I suddenly feel a little happier. We're out of the way of prying eyes. Pushing Izzy up against the wall, I gently kiss him, feeling him sigh beneath me. My eyes slip shut as I begin to gently caress his mouth with mine. We press our bodies together, squirming and sliding against each other as our hands slip beneath each others clothes. More soft groans and sighs fill the tiny space. Izzy spreads his legs and I push myself between them, rubbing our groins together. I can feel him hardening beneath me, my own cock responding.
Izzy's hands come up to my head and begin to push me to my knees. "Suck me..."
Sliding to my knees, I gasp as I look up at him, his eyes as dark as I know mine are. Peeling his tight jeans from his legs, my eyes slid shut as his hard cock slides between my lips. I want to make him happy. Want to make him shiver and moan and whisper my name. It makes me happy when he does. I love him, love being around. Love having the old Izzy with me.
His hands tighten in my hair, tiny sighs filling my ears. I suck harder, wanting to pleasure him. My tongue slides along his cock, tracing the veins and ridges, remembering how it feels to have it in my mouth. And it feels nice. I love it. Love feeling it throb between my lips, love how it fills my throat. Love feeling his warm come fill my mouth.
"Slash," he whispers and I look up.
His dark eyes are glazed, tongue wetting his lips, panting quietly.
"I'm gonna come..." he whispers, head falling back against the wall.
Bobbing my head up and down, I bury my nose in his pubic hair and inhale his scent as I tighten my throat muscles around him. Above me Izzy groans and his hands tug at my hair one last time. Then hot, salty semen flows into my mouth and down my throat, droplets escaping from my lips. Swallowing, I pull back and look up at my lover. My lover... He smiles down at me, kneeling to lick the last drops from my chin. I close my eyes, sighing and letting my head drop back as his tongue teases me.
"Come on," he purrs into my ear. "Let's go to bed..."
~~~
Stubby, burnt down candles illuminate our shabby room. With its peeling paint and flaking plaster, most would outright reject it. But, to us, it's home. Our new home. Our little love nest.
Draped in nothing but a leopard print coat, I sit cross-legged on the mattress. The coat and mattress came from a little, hidden away thrift store. A thrift store that was rammed with vintage clothes and little treasures. Two of which circle the ring fingers of our left hands. Slash and I may not have a great deal of money but the two, identical silver rings were something I had to buy. I wanted something to bind us together, a little something to share other than our bodies and souls.
To my right, the mattress depresses and I drop the cheap paperback into my lap. Beside me, face softened by the flickering candles candles, is Slash. Pushed down onto his mass of hair is another thrift store find: a black top hat. I can see him grinning from beneath his hair, happy to be hidden from view. Chuckling quietly, I grasp the brim and pull it off, watching as he huffs, jokingly annoyed.
"You don't have to hide from me," I whisper, dropping the hat beside the bed before moving my hands to his face.
Raking my hands through the curls, I carefully detangle it, pushing it behind his ears. It stays there for a moment, our eyes locked, before he shakes them back into his face, disappearing back behind a cloud of hair. Smiling, I nudge my nose beneath the hair and gently kiss him. For a moment, my lips move against Slash's before he sighs and gives in. His plump lips part, mahogany eyes slipping as he kisses me back. I slide the tip of my tongue between his lips, shivering as I taste his mouth, taste the whiskey and cigarettes. Hands tug at my hair and my own eyes close, relaxing against Slash. His kisses are tiny and hesitant, almost as if he can read my mind and know what's coming. Maybe he can read my mind? Maybe he can sense what's coming...
Sliding my hands to his chest, I push them beneath his shirt, shivering as he trembles. With my mouth still attached to his, I push him to the bed. The dark eyes snap open as I hover over him, mouth opening into a surprised "O". Smiling down at him, I straddle his legs and teasingly push the coat from my shoulders. My body begins to tremble to life as I watch Slash squirm beneath me. His hands claw at the cheap sheets, eyes darkening further. Licking my lips, I lean back on my heels and begin to stroke at my hardening cock, teasing him. Slash squirms, tiny moans floating to my ears. Pouting, I shuffle along him, pushing my engorged cock in his face. My tongue flutters over my lips, making them glisten as I watch him, watch his eyes widen and his chest heave as he stares at my cock. Pre-come bubbles at the tip and I moan as Slash lets his fingers glide over it, wiping it away. My eyes narrow, my own chest heaving with pants as he licks it away.
"Yummy..." he whispers.
Growling, I release my cock and drop to his body. Nipping and tugging at his teeth, my hands fumble with his pants. He groans as I push them down, his cock bumping against mine. Next I attack his t-shirt, pushing it up and over his head. For a moment, I see his face, get to look into his slightly worried eyes before it all disappears back behind the hair.
Roughly kissing him, I whisper, "It only hurts for a moment. Trust me."
Slash whimpers as I slide down his body. His skin trembles as I touch it, becomes hot as I place kisses to it. I want to do to him what he's done to me so many times before. I want to make love to him, make him feel what I feel. Want him to know what it's like to be the one being loved instead being the lover.
Nuzzling my nose against his cock, I press kisses to it, listening to Slash moan as it twitches.
"Izz..." he pants. "Izz... Please..."
Licking his throbbing cock, I look up at his now black eyes. "What?"
He trembles and pants, hands still clenching and unclenching. "Please... Izz... Please make love..."
I swallow and kiss his cock, the enormity of what's ahead of me washing over me. What we did, before we came here, was fucking. Slash wanted it, I gave it to him. I'm about to make love to my one true love. The person who showed me what I had with Axl wasn't love. What I had with Axl was lust, plain and simple. We were just two horny teenagers who were attracted to each other.
Reaching beside the mattress, I pick up the lube and coat my fingers. Kissing and licking the head of his bobbing cock, I push one gently into him, listening as he grunts, body stiffening a little. In and out I push the finger, sweeping it over his prostate. Slash shivers and moans and, to me, he feels like the jittery virgin again. He probably is; every time I did this to him back in LA he was too smacked out of his mind to know what was happening. He just needed the sex as a connection. Some kind of bond that told him I still loved him. I love him without the sex. I don't need the fucking and the orgasms to know that I'm loved. But Slash does. Needs it like he needs air to breathe, even when he had a needle stuck in his arm.
"Izzy..." he pants. "Izzy... Please..."
I can't resist, can't hold back. Pulling my fingers out of him, I kneel up. Looking down at him, my cock twitches, wanting me to make love to the man that's spread out and shivering on the mattress. Spreading the lube over my cock, I continue to let my eyes sweep over him. He may be shuddering with nerves, but his hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking.
"Izz..." he purrs, eyes glittering with lust.
Shuffling forward, I push his legs apart and hover over him. Pressing my cock to his tight entrance, I lean forward, kissing him as I enter. He gasps into my mouth, body tightening and arching. A pained pant also leaves my mouth, my body shaking with the pleasure as Slash spasms around my cock.
For a moment, I hover there, body trembling as Slash shivers beneath me. I watch him, gauging his reactions. It takes a few moments but, eventually, he nods and I slowly begin to rock. Running my hands beneath his shoulders, I clutch Slash close as my cock breaches him. Long, tanned arms drape over my shoulders, pulling my head to his chest. My lips seek out his ear and I nibble on the soft lobe, teeth tugging at the silver ring that hangs from it.
"Fuck..." I pant. "Fuck... Slash..."
So tight... So wonderful... Like nothing I've ever done before...
His own voice, close to my ear, pants and whispers, "Love you... Izz... Love you..."
Fuck, this man drives me crazy. I don't know how long I'm going to last, how long I'll be able to hold out with Slash moaning and squirming beneath me. Pulling back, I growl as I slam into him. A howl fills the room, Slash arching from the bed as I hit his prostate. Wriggling, I reach between us and wrap my hand around his cock. Nearly in tears, I stoke and thrust, stroke and thrust, again and again hitting that magic spot deep within Slash.
Suddenly, the shivering virgin has disappeared and Slash is howling and crying, nails raking down my back. His neck is arched and, seeing my chance, I bury my mouth against the hollow of his throat. Nipping and kissing, I tighten my hand around his cock, rocking my hips harder and faster, driving us both closer.
"Izzy!" a cry that's filled with a passion I haven't heard in a long time, a cry that is going to drive me crazy and put me in the mad house.
Closing my eyes, I growl as I sink my teeth into Slash's supple, tanned flesh. "Slash... Slash... I can't hold... off much... longer..."
I feel him shake his head, hair curling over my head. Hunching over, I grit my teeth, beginning to ride out the tightening in my groin.
So close... So close...
"Slash... Slash...."
"Izzy... Izzy..."
A particularly violent thrust and Slash is spilling into my hand, screaming loud enough to shake the walls as his warm come spraying over us, gliding through my fingers. Unable to hold back, my own voice joins Slash's as I come deep inside of him, fingers tightening around his cock. My whole body feels like it's on fire, an orgasmic heat washing over me as I carry on pushing into him, riding it all out.
Shivering, I finally pull back and look down at him. Dark eyes, glazed with the post-sex lustre, gaze back up at me. A tiny, content, almost slut-like smile is on his lips.
"Fuck..." he whispers, tongue flicking over his teeth. "I shoulda let you do that a long time ago."
I grin back down at him. Wiping my hand on a discarded t-shirt, I bend and kiss him. It's strange how the tables can turn and flip and move and shift, putting us in different positions and roles. It's one of the reasons I love Slash. It's one of the many reasons I love our rocky relationship.
| Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 19:56:38
Friday turned into Saturday and Izzy didn't move from his bed. He slept fitfully in between bouts of crying and screaming. His knuckles were bruised and bloody from pounding them against his bedroom wall. Flecks of plaster, the result of Izzy's pounding, dusted the floor.
How could he? How could Bill dump him for some girl?
Izzy had seen the girl around school and she seemed to have a different boy hanging around her every week. The thought gave Izzy hope that she'd leave Bill in a few days. A sly smile crept across his lips as he thought about Bill begging him to take him back.
But could he? Could he take Bill back after such a betrayal?
Sliding into a sitting position, Izzy picked a cheap photo frame from his bedside table. Trapped behind the glass was a photograph of himself and Bill, huddled together on a bench, arms around each other, all smiles. Happier times. If Izzy remembered rightly, the photograph had been taken just after they'd gotten together. He remembered how quiet they'd kept their relationship, fear of beatings from the kids at school and Bill's father running through their minds. Finally, his mother had worked out what was going on. She had given them her blessing to continue their relationship in safety under the Isbell roof. She just seemed happy that her loner of a son had fallen in love with someone, even if it was his best friend.
Something splashed against the glass and Izzy realised that he was crying, the pain of the break up still fresh in his heart and mind. Sniffling, he wiped a hand across his nose and dropped the photo to the floor. The glass shattered, mingling with the plaster dust and the fragments of his heart. Izzy buried his head back into the pillow, desperately trying to hide the crying. There was no one else in the house but it was a matter of pride. Men didn't cry in Izzy's eyes. His body shook as he sobbed, loud, screaming sobs. He had no idea that falling in love would hurt this much. He'd thought it would be like the films and songs. People fell in love and they were supposed to be together forever. That was the deal.
Izzy, Izzy. He could hear Bill's voice in his head. Izzy I love you.
His name repeated over and over again. The sound of Bill in his head seemed to have a soothing effect, calming and quietening him. He had no idea why. The sound of that hypnotic voice should have angered him, but instead it had the opposite effect. It took him a moment to realise that the voice wasn't in his head.
"Look up Izzy." He did, only to see Bill standing in the tree outside his window. "Get up Izzy." The voice was soft, almost inaudible, like bells in the wind.
Slowly he did, sliding from the bed, wondering if what he was seeing was a mirage. Bill was balanced on a branch, one arm wrapped around the trunk, his other reaching out to Izzy. Wind whipped his long red hair around his face as he fought to keep his balance. Izzy pushed the window open and leaned out, stretching his hand out. Bill's fingers brushed against his, sending shivers through Izzy's body. He knew he should be angry and hurt, but the sight of Bill made his broken heart melt back together.
Gripping Bill's hand, Izzy stepped back, pulling him from the tree and into his room. His arms automatically went around the lithe body, pulling Bill close to him.
"What are you doing here?" he quietly asked.
Bill's head dropped forward, hair hiding his eyes.
"Izzy, I'm sorry." Bill's voice cracked. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
Brushing the hair out of Bill's eyes, Izzy curled his fingers around the finely boned face and lifted the green eyes to his own.
"I know you didn't mean to Bill, but you did." Izzy's thumb swept a tear from the pale skin. "I loved you Bill and you broke my fuckin' heart."
He pushed Bill away from him and turned away, tears welling up in his eyes. The pain of seeing Bill with a girl was still fresh, the wounds still gaping and sore. Izzy slowly sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands. The crying started again, tears trickling through his fingers.
"I loved you," he sobbed. "Really fuckin' loved you, and you threw it all back in my face."
A hand gently touched his trembling shoulder.
"Will you love me again Izz?" He felt Bill's breath brush against his ear.
Izzy looked up, wiping the tears from his eyes as he did. Bill was knelt in front of him, concern in his eyes and his hand still stroking Izzy's shoulder.
"I might," Izzy sniffed. "But I want you to answer me one question."
He watched as Bill nodded, strands of fine red hair falling into his eyes.
"Why?" Izzy asked. "Why'd you go with /her/? Am I not good enough?"
Bill shrugged. "I have needs Izzy."
Izzy pushed Bill away and scowled.
"Like getting your dick wet?" He stood up and glared down at Bill. "If you'd wanted to get laid, why didn't you fuckin' say?"
Bill's head cocked to one side and his eyes widened.
"Because you want to fuck me, don't you Izz?" He stood and stared at Izzy, his arms crossing over his chest. "It's not the other way round is it?" Bill pressed his nose against Izzy's, his eyes fiery.
"It might be," Izzy's voice was hushed.
Bill's eyes softened and a hand came up to stroke Izzy's cheek. Closing his eyes, Izzy lent into the touch, smiling slightly.
"You mean...?" Bill's voice trailed off and Izzy nodded his response.
He felt soft lips press against his own and an arm wrapped around his waist, gently guiding him to the bed. Bill lay him on the bed, his hand gently guiding his head to the pillow. Izzy opened his eyes and smiled as Bill hovered over him, long red hair framing them. Bill's fingers ran through his hair, smoothing it over the pillow.
"Izz, you're fuckin' beautiful," he whispered.
Izzy just smiled, enjoying the feeling of Bill's fingers on his body.
"Do you know how to do this?" Bill quietly asked.
Izzy kept smiling. "Look in the drawer."
He knew what was in there; he'd stolen most of it, and he was enjoying the look on Bill's face as he pulled out a bottle of lube and a porn magazine. Bill's face cracked into a grin as he flicked through the hardcore magazine. For a moment he seemed to study the images as if he was familiarising with what lay ahead. Izzy watched as he dropped the magazine to the floor and picked up the bottle of lube. A cocky smile crossed Bill's face as he held the bottle in front of Izzy's eyes.
"Strawberry?!" Bill giggled.
Izzy shrugged and carried on lazily smiling.
"I like the smell and it doesn't taste too bad either. Now kiss me."
Bill's hands cupped his face and he pressed his lips against Izzy's. Willing Izzy surrendered to the kiss, arching slightly to get closer. His arms wrapped around Bill's thin frame, pulling him close. Izzy felt his cock harden. Locking a leg around Bill's waist, he slowly rubbed himself against his friend, savouring the feelings that flowed through him. He felt like he was on a haze of pleasure, warm feelings filling his veins. This is what he wanted, complete and utter surrender.
Hands pushed his shirt up and over his head, leaving him exposed. He watched as Bill pulled away and kissed his chest, tongue deftly playing over his nipples. Izzy inadvertently laughed. It was a good laugh, pleasurable and unforced, as Bill's hands travelled lower, dipping into Izzy's trousers. Izzy's laughter changed to a groan as Bill's slender fingers wrapped around his hardening cock. He opened his eyes briefly to see Bill between his legs, his head resting on Izzy's stomach, eyes watching Izzy's every move. Izzy twitched as Bill's thumb swept over the head of his cock, his back leaving the bed. Bill's hand was suddenly travelling from his cock, over his balls and between his buttocks. A finger gently began to probe his virgin ass and Izzy moaned.
"Is that okay?" he heard Bill whisper.
"Lube... use the lube..." Izzy squirmed, his hands desperately pushing his trousers down.
Bill's hands wrapped around the waistband and pulled them the rest of the way down, before depositing them on the floor. A cry of pleasure left Izzy mouth as Bill's tongue gently licked the head of his cock. In the distance, he heard the lid of the lube bottle pop, the sweet smell of strawberries flooding the room. A moment later the inquisitive finger was back between his cheeks. Tentatively, the finger probed, breaching him with a slight pain. Izzy hissed between clenched teeth as Bill's finger slid into him.
"Am I hurting you?" Bill's voice was still quiet, as if he didn't want to ruin the moment.
"A little." Izzy bucked his hips as the finger slid in deeper, brushing over something that made him cry out.
Another finger joined the first, carefully widening his ass. The red hot pain was slowly being replaced by something more pleasurable, hazy and warm. Izzy smiled and moaned as Bill resumed the gentle exploration of his cock. This was nothing new; they'd sucked each other off plenty of times. But to have Bill exploring him so willingly was something new.
"Shit Bill," he hissed. "Have you done this before?"
There was no response, just the feeling of his friend smiling around his cock. The fingers carried on probing his ass, sending tingles along Izzy's spine. He'd tried various ways of reaching his prostate but it was something he'd never achieved. Now Bill had found it and seemed to be enjoying making him tremble and twitch. Izzy felt his balls tighten and a familiar burning take over his groin.
"Bill... stop. I'm gonna come..." Izzy kicked at Bill, pushing him away.
Everything stopped and Bill pulled away, but not before deftly licking Izzy's ass. Izzy moaned as the tongue explored for a second before disappearing. He opened his eyes to see Bill hovering over him.
"You're right," he whispered, "it does taste of strawberries. And of you."
Izzy found Bill's lips on his, frantically kissing him. He tasted vaguely of strawberries and cock, not an altogether bad combination in Izzy's mind. His hands twisted in Bill's velvety soft hair, pulling him close, as his legs locked around his friend's tiny waist. Bill's hands were on his naked skin, touching him in ways he'd never done before.
As quickly as it started, it finished. Bill pulled away, his eyes dilated and glazed.
"Do you want me to make you mine?" he softly asked.
Breathless, Izzy nodded. He watched as Bill straddled his waist, stripping his thin t-shirt off. It was quickly added to the pile on the floor, before he sat back and pushed his jeans down, revealing his hard cock. A twinge of trepidation fluttered through Izzy's stomach. He knew, deep down, that it was going to hurt like hell. He knew he was going to bleed and be torn, but he was ready. Ready to finally give himself fully to his lover.
The smell of strawberries brought Izzy to his senses and he opened his eyes to see Bill slowly coating his cock with lube. Bill seemed as nervous as he was, fear swimming in his eyes.
"Izz..." Bill's hand stopped for a moment. "You'll tell me if I hurt you, right?"
Izzy shook his head, hair falling into his eyes.
"I don't care if you hurt me," he replied. "I know it's gonna but I want this."
A tiny smile played on Bill's lips. "Ready?"
Izzy nodded, slowly pulling his knees up, opening himself up. Bill shuffled forward until he was positioned between his legs. One hand rubbed Izzy's stomach while the other held his cock. Izzy's eyes never left the beautiful sight of Bill before him. Both were breathing heavily, turned on and ready, but pausing to savour their last moments of virginity.
"Come on Bill." Izzy smiled slightly. "Stop teasing."
The smile was returned as Bill advanced on him. A second later, a searing pain shot through Izzy as Bill's cock entered him. His back arched and he cried out, hands gripping at Bill.
"Do you want me to stop?" he heard Bill say.
He shook his head, motioning for Bill to keep going. Bill moved, ramming his cock deep into Izzy. Izzy let out another cry of pain, a cry which mixed with Bill's own howl. It was uncomfortable for both of them, a feeling that they hoped would never be repeated. For a moment, they lay together, each adjusting to the new sensation. Izzy's hands rested on Bill's back, nails digging in, his breathing heavy. Bill's head rested against his own, warm breath washing over his ear.
"Fuck," Bill breathed. "You're tight."
Izzy turned his head, his lips brushing the soft hair.
"What did you expect?" He smiled. "You're my first."
Bill's head turned and Izzy gazed lovingly into the green eyes. They both smiled and he planted a kiss on Bill's soft mouth.
"Now move," he requested.
Bill's eyes became inquisitive. "How?"
Izzy smiled, the pain beginning to subside. "Just like you did with that girl."
Bill propped himself on his elbows and, pressing his lips against Izzy's, he slid forward. Izzy gasped: the pain was still there but it was masked by the beautiful feeling of Bill's cock. Izzy watched Bill moving above him, soft hair swaying and brushing his face. Both boys were panting, light films of sweat coating their lithe bodies. Locking his legs around Bill's waist and his arms around his neck, Izzy rocked with him, savouring the feeling of Bill's cock inside him.
Suddenly, Bill rammed into his prostate, causing Izzy's cock to spring back to life. He moaned and slid a hand from Bill and down his body to his cock. He stroked himself, matching the rhythm of Bill's thrusting, wave after wave of pleasure flowing through him. Everything seemed to fade away until it was just him, Bill and his cock. He could feel his orgasm building, the familiar tingle and his balls tightening. His moans turned into frantic, incoherent babbling.
"Bill... I'm gonna..." He didn't have time to finish as his world exploded, bright light flaring behind his eyes. Come coated his stomach and chest, landing in his hair, but he didn't care. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.
Somewhere, he heard Bill shout his name and, with one final thrust, he came inside of Izzy. Izzy rocked with him as he pushed into him one final time.
As his breathing slowed, Izzy opened his eyes. Bill still hovered over him, chest rising and falling, his hair stringy with sweat. Their eyes, dilated and glazed, met and they both smiled.
"Fuck, Izz." Bill gently kissed him, a hand tangling in Izzy's own sweat drenched hair.
He gently placed his forehead against Izzy's, each gazing at the other.
"Do you love me again?" Bill asked.
Izzy reached out a hand and ran it through Bill's hair.
"I never really stopped loving you." With that, he pulled Bill's head down and kissed him.
| Written by Guest on 2008-10-18 20:12:18
It was a quiet night in the Hellhouse with everyone bar Axl out and about. Like the creatures of the night that they were, they had scattered into the night the second the sun had set. Not that Axl minded. He wanted some quality alone time. Digging around behind the couch he pulled out a crumpled paper bag. Tipping it up, a black video tape slid out into his waiting hand. A malevolent smirk twisted Axl's lips as he read the hand scrawled sticker on the top of the tape. Praying For Freedom. They might not be able to afford cable but they had discovered ways to get hold of porn. Axl had been looking for this particular tape for a while. It was reported to be harder and more vicious than most porn, which was why he'd had to trawl the underground black market for it. It was the Holy Grail of porn and now it was his. Axl had a moment of silence to imagine what was etched onto the tape that was in his hands. Images of depravity and wickedness floated through his mind and his smile widened. Crawling across the threadbare carpet, Axl slid the tape into the battered VCR and clicked the television on. His heart gave a little jump as static crackled across the screen. Slowly the picture came into focus and Axl felt his breath catch in his throat. The camera panned to show a dark dungeon, a variety of apparatus on show. Heavy metal rings hung from the walls and a padded saw horse stood to the right of the frame. Axl felt himself smirk: a rape rack. He'd heard about them but never seen one. His heart missed a beat. Trepidation? Axl just kept smirking and felt a stirring in his pants. Not in the slightest. He just wanted to see someone in pain, someone screaming, bleeding and begging.
To the left of the frame stood a wooden table filled with whips, birches and other instruments of torture. Out of frame there was the sound of a heavy door opening. A tall, well built man walked in, shirtless and with long blonde hair tied into his neck. His eyes were hidden behind mirrored, wrap-around sunglasses. Leather trousers clung to his legs and the muscles in his back moved as bent to examine the equipment.
Axl noticed that he was unconsciously squeezing the erection in his pants. He let out a low moan, anticipation building. Turning his attention back to the TV, he slowly undid his jeans and stuffed his hand inside, another moan escaping from his throat as he wrapped his hand around his shaft.
The man had finished examining the equipment and was standing, hands clasped behind his back, waiting. Off frame, the door creaked again and a woman, dressed entirely in black leather, walked in. Axl grinned and pumped harder at his erection. She was buxom and blonde and looked just like the kind of slut that would enjoy being tortured. But then someone else joined them in the frame and Axl realised that the woman had led them in. Axl's heart skipped a beat as the camera pulled back to reveal a pale, skinny male body. Their head hung forward, long, messy brown hair hiding their face. Their slender arms were stretched in front of them, thick leather cuffs attaching their wrists to a lead. Another trailed from what Axl could only assume was a collar around the man's neck. The blonde man took the leads from the woman and gestured for her to leave. As the door slammed shut, the blonde man jerked on the leads. The slender man, his face still hidden stumbled forward, stopping only inches from the taller man.
Axl grinned and began to stroke his cock again. It didn't matter whether they were male or female; someone was still going to get hurt for his viewing pleasure.
"What's your name?" the blonde man's voice was powerful without the need for shouting.
The smaller man mumbled, inaudible, his hair moving as he spoke.
"Louder," the larger man raised his voice slightly.
He grabbed the lead at its clasp and jerked it upwards, causing the messy dark hair to fall away from the other man's face.
Axl's breath hitched in his throat and his hand froze on his cock. The dark haired man's face was finely boned and deep brown eyes looked around the dungeon, terror clearly visible in them.
Heart in his mouth, Axl crawled towards the TV and reached out a shaking hand to the flickering image.
"Izzy?" His voice was low, mouth dry, barely able to form his friend's name.
The blonde man roughly pulled on the lead again, forcing the small man's head to an uncomfortable angle.
"I said, what is your name?" the voice was gruff, almost a growl.
And then it came, the still, small voice.
"Izzy."
Axl fell back onto his haunches, jaw open, his erection waning. Questions ran through his mind. How? Why? Was this what Izzy had resorted to to pay the bills? In his faint reflection on the TV screen, Axl noticed that he looked as shocked as Izzy did. Had Izzy signed up for something and not known the consequences? But, like watching a car crash on the freeway, Axl couldn't pull his eyes away. The sadistic streak in him wanted to watch, wanted to see what happened to his childhood friend.
The blonde man had unclipped the lead from the cuffs and Izzy's arms were now stretched high above his head, attached to one of the rings in the wall. His head hung forward, baring his lean back and shoulders. In a blur, the blonde man brought a cat o' nine tails down onto the unblemished skin of Izzy's back. Axl found himself flinching as Izzy tensed and cried out. Red welts slowly formed and Izzy trembled as the man pulled back and did it again.
Never moving from his position, Axl found himself letting out a little whimper as blood began to well up in the wounds.
Again and again the toughened leather snapped against the pale skin, cutting into it. Every time, Izzy tensed and trembled, painful cries and howls flowing from the television's speaker. Again and again Axl flinched at the sound.
Yet he couldn't stop watching, couldn't stop looking at the blood which stained Izzy's perfect skin. Couldn't stop listening to the wounded cries that his friend made. Axl was aware that his knees had become numb from kneeling but he couldn't move, frozen to the floor in front of the TV.
Eventually, the torturer, as Axl had come to call the blonde haired man, put the whip down. He grabbed a handful of Izzy's hair and pulled his head back. Izzy's eyes had dilated to black and were glazed but Axl noticed that he hadn't cried. As bad as he felt for watching the mutilation of his best friend a tiny part of him had wanted to see Izzy cry.
"Why are you here?" There wasn't an ounce of compassion in the deep voice.
Izzy didn't reply, his eyes rolling back into his head. The man yanked on the brown hair causing Izzy to cry out.
"Answer me!"
"Drug dealing," came the quiet reply.
Axl fell back against the couch, hand against his mouth.
"Holy fuckin' shit," his voice was as quiet as Izzy's.
What was this sick video? Was it some kind of police prevention video? He didn't have time to think as the man threw Izzy's head against the wall, the sound of bone on stone causing Axl to flinch.
The torturer ran a hand down Izzy's bloodstained back, smearing blood and causing Izzy to quiver and moan. The camera followed as he stroked and cupped Izzy's bottom.
"You have a beautiful ass," the voice had changed to a purr.
Axl watched as Izzy relaxed, seeming to enjoy the gentle touch. He couldn't help but admire Izzy's ass. It was pale and smooth and he wondered how it felt. Axl felt his cock stir as he watched the torturer slide a finger down Izzy's crack. He heard himself purr as Izzy arched his back to the touch, the drying blood cracking and flaking.
Axl found himself crawling back towards the television, his hand back around his cock. Never in a million years did he think that he'd be wanking over the image of his friend being violated. Nor did he think he'd ever be wanking over the image of a man being violated. It seemed so wrong yet, oddly, it didn't freak him out as much as he thought it would.
Kneeling a foot or so from the screen, he heard Izzy moan as a finger slid into him. He watched as Izzy tensed his muscles and let out a whimper, the finger obviously brushing his prostate. Axl tightened his grip around his cock, wondering if Izzy had been as hard as he was now.
"Please." The voice was low and dripping with lust, a change from the pained wails of earlier.
The camera panned up to show the torturer, his free hand wound back into Izzy's hair, pulling his head to face him.
"What?"
"More." Axl wondered if Izzy had done this before. Wondered if his friend preferred men to women.
The man laughed and released Izzy.
"Later. Perhaps. If you're good."
The camera moved again, lowering and twisting to show the hand caressing and probing the pert ass and Izzy's very obvious hard on.
A moan pierced the air and Axl realised that it was him. His hand stroked up and down his cock, thumb sweeping over the slick head. On the screen, the hand was removed from Izzy's ass, a groan of loss coming from just off screen. He watched as Izzy ground his cock against the wall, desperately trying to relieve himself. Axl found it a massive turn-on watching his friend being restrained and humiliated.
There was a crack and Axl watched as a cane left a perfect red line across Izzy's buttocks. There was a cry, a cry of pain and pleasure and those perfect buttocks twitched. The atmosphere of the film had all changed. Before, Izzy had been in pain, real pain. Axl had heard him cry and scream like that before. But now his friend seemed to be enjoying it, enjoying the pain that was being inflicted on him. With every crack of the cane, Izzy arched him back and shoved his ass out as far as he could. The camera pulled back to show Izzy straining against his restraints, his head thrown back, mouth open. Little gasps and moans floated from the television each time the cane connected to his ass.
Axl couldn't help himself and moaned along with Izzy. Leaning back, he struggled with his jeans, pushing them down. Easier access, he had to have easier access to his raging hard on. Pushing them around his ankles, he looked back at the TV. Izzy's ass was a mess of cutting red marks, raised and bleeding slightly. But it didn't seem to be bothering him as the cane cut into him again, making a satisfying noise as it connected with flesh.
And then Izzy was slumping to the floor as he was released. He was on his hands and knees, forehead against the floor and breathing heavily. From the camera angle, Axl could see that the guitarist still had an erection. He watched as Izzy knelt up and lowered his linked hands to his groin. His hands went to his cock and he began to furiously stroke himself, his head back, eyes closed and sweat beading on his forehead. He was moaning and mumbling incomprehensibly. Axl's own movements matched those on the screen, his own breathing heavy, hoping that he would be able to come with Izzy.
"Come on Izz," he whispered. "Come for me."
But suddenly Izzy was pulled back to his feet as the torturer grabbed him by the hair. Axl groaned in disappointment. Izzy didn't seem to have noticed the vicious movement and was still furiously stroking himself. Axl watched as the camera tracked the movement of the torturer as he dragged the seemingly uncaring Izzy towards the padded saw horse. Axl's disappointment waned and a grin crossed his face. Izzy seemed to know what was coming and was desperately trying to get himself off.
Instead, the torturer threw him against the saw horse, reaching round to uncouple the leather cuffs. Placing his knee in the small of Izzy's back, he forced the slender man across it. Quickly his wrists were secured to one side before the torturer moved around and strapped Izzy's ankles to the other legs.
Axl couldn't help but admire the sight on the screen. Izzy, spread and restrained and desperately turned on. He watched as Izzy tried to rub himself against the wood, sweat soaking his skin, causing the blood to run and drip onto the stone floor. Axl's hand was still around his cock, horny and desperate to come. But he wanted to hold off, wanted to watch Izzy being violated. He also wanted to know if Izzy would get the chance to reach orgasm.
The camera moved away from the beautiful sight of Izzy's spread legs to the even better sight of him stretched over the horse, head hanging down. He was breathing heavily, the tiniest whisper of a smile on his lips. Axl watched as the torturer's strong hands grasped Izzy's bony hips. A second later Izzy cried out and tried to arch his back as the man thrust into him. No teasing, no lube, just one thrust and the man was deep inside Izzy.
Axl grinned and rocked his hips, thrusting his cock into his fist. This was what he'd paid for. Pure, unadulterated pain and humiliation. It seemed even sweeter that it was his best friend being put through the pain. Feeling a tingle grow at the base of his cock, Axl slowed down. He wanted to see this through to its conclusion, wanted to see Izzy bloody, battered and tossed aside like a used tissue.
The man's nails were digging into Izzy's flesh, scratching and wounding as he thrust into Izzy. As painful as it looked Izzy was moaning and trying to thrust back against the torturer. Suddenly Axl wished that it was him on the video, him torturing and fucking Izzy. As usual, he was thinking with his dick. Screw being homophobic, he wanted to be in that ass, wanted to see if Izzy moaned for him.
A pained scream echoed from the television and Axl snapped out of his daydream to see the torturer rake his fingernails down Izzy's already wounded back. He watched, fascinated, as Izzy's brain changed it from pain to pleasure, turning the scream into a groan of pleasure. Again, his tried to thrust back onto the cock that was in him. But it seemed that the man wasn't playing. He seemed to be keeping his thrusts shallow, avoiding hitting Izzy's prostate. Axl watched Izzy twitch against the wood, frustrated, desperate to get off.
Axl moaned, frustrated as well. He wanted to get off as much as Izzy. The torturer seemed to sense this and bent low over Izzy, a finger moving the hair away from Izzy's ear.
"Calm down sexy," the voice was husky. "You'll get your chance."
Woah. Axl screwed his face up. That man changed from vicious to peaceful and back again quicker than Axl did. And that was impressive. He watched as the man grabbed a handful of brown hair and pulled Izzy's head up. With one last thrust, he let out a moan before letting go and pulling out.
As quickly as it had started, it was over. Axl watched, a bit disappointed that the man had come so quickly. But he didn't stop the assault on his cock as he watched the battered and bloody Izzy dragged from the saw horse and dropped to the floor. Izzy crumpled like a rag doll, exhausted but, from what Axl could see, still extremely turned on. In a second, Izzy was back on his knees, attacking his aching erection with both hands. He didn't seem t notice when the man aimed a kick at his ribs, causing Izzy to fall and crumple into a ball.
The camera moved, aimed over Izzy, its unblinking eye watching him desperately masturbate. He had brought his knees up, back arched, cock throbbing. He was groaning, obviously getting close. Axl's eyes never moved from the TV, his own pace matching Izzy's. He could see cum and blood seeping from Izzy's asshole. Rather than disgust him, it only turned him on more knowing that, at some point, Izzy had been violated. Again he felt the tingle begin to build in his balls, stronger than before.
"Come on Izz, you can do it." Sweat dripped down Axl's face and into his eye. Absentmindedly he brushed it away, his mind still on the video and his cock.
Suddenly, Izzy's whole body stiffened and he cried out. Cum sprayed all over him, landing on his chest, face and hair.
At the exact same moment, the orgasm ripped through Axl, his body stiffening. Cum flowed across his thighs and hand, sticky and warm. He moaned, still stroking his throbbing cock. He sat against the couch, dazed, the blood pounding in his skull.
"I see you dug it up then." The voice was sardonic.
Axl leaned back against the couch, looking up. Standing in the doorway was Izzy, arms folded across his chest. His face was blank.
"I've watched you for the last five minutes Axl," the expression never changed. "It turns you on does it, watching someone be beaten and humiliated?"
Axl didn't move, choosing to stare at Izzy, staying silent.
"I knew you were sadistic Axl but I didn't think watching someone you know go through that would give you pleasure."
"But why Izzy? Why'd you do it?" Axl finally found his voice.
Izzy shrugged, his mouth still set in a thin line.
"We need to eat Axl. And seeing as you wouldn't get off your sweet ass, I went and did something."
"How much?"
"$500 and the promise that I would be more discreet about my dealing."
"Your drug dealing?"
Izzy nodded. "That guy was one of my suppliers."
"Are you gay Izz?" Axl had to ask.
Izzy just stared at him, expression never changing.
"I'll come out the day you come out Bill."
He threw a dirty towel at Axl.
"Clean up. And if you ever tell anyone about that tape then I'll tell them that you get off on watching men."
A little smirk and Izzy was gone, a ghost in the night. Axl looked down at the towel, dirty and greasy. Which was exactly how he felt at that moment. Being caught, especially by the very person in the film, wasn't a pleasant feeling.
Wiping himself down, Axl took one last look at the television. He reached out and ejected the tape from the VCR. He looked at it.
"You can threaten me Jeff," he whispered to himself. "But they say the camera never lies."
With one final smirk, Axl slid the tape back behind the couch.
~~~The End~~~
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