Read Antidote (Don't) Online

Authors: Jack L. Pyke

Antidote (Don't) (23 page)

BOOK: Antidote (Don't)
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“My old man, he....” Ignoring at the heavy weight at the mention of my old man, I looked at the base of the tree now. It took its usual spot, my white corner unit shifted out into the hall and the tree placed neatly in its place. A few needles had fallen onto the cream carpet, just a few, three to be precise.

“Jack?” Vince joined me as I made it over, and he pulled at my arm to stop me from grabbing at them. “What’s up, kid?”

I pointed at the base of the tree. “Needles.”

“Well,” Vince looked down, “yep.”

“Floor,” I mumbled quietly, and I got a tug to my arm. “Leave them,” said Vince, giving a chuckle. “There’ll be a lot more by the end of the day, no doubt by the time Christmas is over. Evergreen my fucking arse. There’s a few days left before the big day and the tree’s already crying rape in the corner.” I was taken into the kitchen and sat down at the breakfast bar. Vince disappeared, and the silence of the kitchen left me wondering if he was real.

“I was going to save this until Christmas.”

He was suddenly in front of me, a long rectangular box in his hand. “But you’ve been feeling so sick since we got back from Turkey, I thought I’d give it to you now.” The box was put in my hands. “Go on,” said Vince. “Open it.”

We’d been to Turkey? Images were there of a plane, feeling pissed off, not sitting by the window, hating sharing germs in the cabin with a bunch of air riders. Vince looked so expectant, brown eyes so wide, waiting, needing. Giving a tug at the black ribbon, I eased the lid off and sat staring down at the contents.

The necklace looked familiar, couldn’t really think why, though. It was this black rope, interspersed with small silver balls at regular breaks. Hanging from it was a sterling silver cross with a smaller black one in the middle.

“Lost this,” I heard myself mumble. Easing back with a sigh, Vince nodded. “Yeah, I remember you saying.” I frowned at him but Vince was focused on the necklace. “A robbery or something.”

“Fight.”

“Hmm,” Vince nodded at me. “Some twat up an alley by your house.”

My turn to frown. “Gray.”

Vince scowled. “I don’t think so, baby. The guy beat you pretty bad to get at your wallet.” He seemed to lose all of that Christmas cheer, seemed so sad. “Don’t give that bastard a name and let him own you.”

I rubbed at my head, hating how thick it felt. “Here,” said Vince, and I was jostled slightly as he took the necklace, moved my hand from my eyes, and slipped the fine quality of the necklace to rest cool against my throat. “There you go.” It was fastened in place. “Looks good.” A kiss brushed the back of my neck and every muscle tensed in my body.

“Hey, easy.” Vince seemed to put some distance between us as I glanced up the corner, at the safety of the camera winking there. “How about I get us something to eat? Maybe some coffee? Maybe that will pull you back into the real world?”

“Coffee.” I nodded, needing... something. “Coffee’s good.” Vince was up, heading on into the kitchen before I could put the movement in order. “I’ve got to go to work in about an hour, you going to be okay, Jack?”

“Nights?”

“Hmmm?”

Darkness was creeping up to the windows now, or they were black at least. Which was fucking weird considering it had been morning a while back. “You work nights?”

“I know it’s a bastard. But I promised Karl that I’d work the next two nights up until Christmas Eve. That gives us Christmas Day and New Years Eve together.”

I rubbed at my head. Shouldn’t be alone for Christmas...

“You okay with that? Your old man said he’d get a manager in to cover your garage while you’re off your feet.”

“Hmmm?” A mug of coffee was set on the table by me. “We’ll get you better, kid. You’ll see. For now you drink your coffee, try and eat. We’ll sort you out. Just don’t...” He smiled across at me as he sat down, “worry.”

Chapter 20
The Taste of Things to Come

Jan

A tap at my legs forced my eyes open, and I lay there staring up at the ceiling, shivering against the cold. Clothes were long gone, only a soft pad under my ass offering comfort. Everything below the waist was sore, legs all stiff and refusing to move. Sleep had come and gone, the only constant being someone snuggled up to me, climbing on top of me. There was little fight except against the tiredness, against the creeping feel of what would happen if I closed my eyes, what would happen if I kept them open. Voices had filtered through from the hall at one point, arguing, shuffles—more heavy thuds like Humpty Dumpty had been given a hand off the wall. Then Henry had slipped a hand over my mouth despite the gag still biting into it. I fought through the fog bank, tried to cry out Jack’s name, but after that, sound had been subdued and I’d been forced into sleep again.

“Come on,” said Henry, tapping at my leg again. “Bet you’re hungry?”

I flinched away as he brushed a touch down my side, the clink, clink-click of his cheap gold watch serenading his path.

A soft whistle was given and in the evening light, two men pushed through into the bedroom. Tubing was brought into the room, one end having a funnel attached. Another man also carried a strange-looking gag, and I started to shake my head seeing the round wire shape, the kind used to keep a sub’s mouth open wide, ready and waiting.

“You keep quiet, now, pet,” whispered Henry, and I grunted as my gag was pulled free. The need to cry out was instinctive and a hand clamped over my mouth and nose. I tore my head from side to side, at first to get free, then just to try and breathe. Henry jammed his thumb in at the corner of my mouth, giving himself enough room to get the bottom of the bit-gag fixed over my bottom teeth. A grip of my balls plus my cry out allowed him to force the rest into my mouth.

“Sweet,” said Henry, tying it in place, then running his thumb over my bottom lip. “Can think of a few things to put in there.” Giving a grin, he leaned over and spat, wiping at his own jaw as spit and slime hit the back of my throat, making me gag. “Can’t do this without lube,” he said, chuckling at his own joke.

A grab at my hair, my head was kept still as Henry took the long tube and slid it back and forth over my tongue. “Relax those muscles, pet. Let me in.” Plastic tubing touched the back of my throat, causing me to gag again, then Henry took every care with forcing it down my throat. I writhed as a mixture of wanting to throw up and choke hit me. I settled for choking as tears were forced free.

“Doc,” Henry shouted back over his shoulder. “Don’t make me come out there and force my cock up your ass to get you in here.”

Shuffling back by the door saw a short, stocky man come and kneel on the bed by Henry. A packet of liquid and the stink of bourbon came with him, the packet he seemed content enough to sit there shaking, the bourbon, he’d already drank from the smell of it. The Doc made sure the funnel was fixed in place on the other end of the tube, but his hands shook so badly that the tube shifted deep in my throat, forcing me to choke and arch my body into each one.

“Christ, give that the fuck here,” snapped Henry, and he grabbed at the tubing. “You feed him.”

“Okay, okay,” said the Doc, now looking down at me. “Vitamins and things, enough to keep your stats up and—”

“Don’t fucking talk to the bitch, just get it down his fucking throat.”

After he gave a tear at the corner of the pouch, I choked as liquid slid through the tube, leaving an ice-cold feeling in my stomach.

“Almost done,” said the Doc, looking a little more cheerful. He left the room, then someone else pushed on through.

“You’re awake. Good. How you doing today, kid?” said Vince, removing my gag. Henry shifted off the bed so he could sit down. I gave up looking any lower than his waist; I didn’t want to see any lower than his waist. Images swam in and out of focus, but his voice? With or without a black gas mask as he’d stood behind Jack in the bath, no amount of drugs could drown out echoes of his voice no matter how much he whispered and tried to disguise it. He gave a heavy sigh, and a hand grabbed my jaw, forcing a look at his face.

The bedroom was lighter, maybe late afternoon, and the soft shades helped highlight how he could have been the happy council refuse guy that sorted your bins. He wasn’t the sort to avoid. Quite good-looking, with dark brown eyes, soft brown hair. No... Not brown. The roots were darker. Black. Christ—had he dyed his hair?

“Get the Doc to keep an eye on him for infection. Fluids need to be kept up too.” Vince was sniffing at me now. “And wash him, for fuckssake, Henry.”

“I flushed his ass out,” Henry whined in a high voice. The padded mat beneath my ass. Heat filled my cheeks. “The catheter took care of the rest.”

I strangled a groan.

“Yeah? Whatever.” Vince sighed. “Go get the shower ready. Princess is still asleep, idle fucking arsehole that he is. For now,” he patted my thigh, “let’s get this one cleaned up.”

I found some life, kicking and crying to go anywhere but the bathroom.

A hand crushed into my balls, shutting me up.

“Jack....” I said, suddenly calm. “Where is he?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him. Not until I need you to,” said Vince, and a rattling came as he messed with the chains above my head. “But we need to keep you looking and smelling your best for him.”

A blindfold slipped into place just before I was forced to my feet. Things were unsteady for a moment, life teetering close to the edge and threatening to fall without any protest as I stood there. Then Vince fire-lifted me onto his shoulder, slapping at my ass. I winced, but stayed quiet. “Not sore here, lad?” Vince chuckled. “Your cock’s too soft, Henry. If you can’t make him cry, I’ll have to take him off your hands and give his ass a real workout.”

Henry mumbled something as Vince carried me out. Footsteps sounded a little odd once we were out of the bedroom. More like polished shoes on concrete. It also took us over fifty footsteps to reach Jack’s shower. Jack’s spare room was next to his main bathroom, so it should have taken maybe fifteen at the most. A chill came across my bare ass, dusting over the small of my back, almost as though we’d stepped outside, or maybe into somewhere spacious like a long corridor. Wrong. Everything just felt wrong. Yet as Vince dumped me on rough tile and pulled off my blindfold, Jack’s bathroom came into view, right down to his laundry basket and antibacterial hand wash. The “no touch” hand wash that he always insisted on.

“First things first,” said Vince. I managed to roll to my side, resisting throwing up as he lifted the toilet lid, then regretted it as he pulled his zip down and tugged out his dick. I turned away as urine splashed onto my face.

“Better.” There was a thick sloppy sound, then he tucked himself away. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

Pulled up by my arm, the world turned as I was dragged to the toilet and forced to stand there. Vince came in hard behind, digging a clammy hand around my shaft, and I groaned.

“Mmmm.” Resting his chin on my shoulder, Vince looked down. “Okay, so maybe I know now why a guy in Jack’s fuckable league would go with a guy like you.” His breath stained my cheek. “That’s a damn good cock you’ve got there, Jan.” He angled my tip toward the basin. “Meaty. Bet you’ve loved forcing that up him, hmmm?”

“Don’t
force
Jack to do anything,” I mumbled, looking away, any need to relieve myself disappearing with how he held on between my thighs.

“Yeah? Might have to look at that.” He started massaging my dick. “Let’s see some action from this, y’know, being as you’ve just curled up for the past few days and let me fuck your boyfriend.”

“Fuck you.”

“Nah,” he bit at my shoulder. “I like tops. A bit like Henry when he sees the right kind of pet.” Fingers rubbed at my ass and I winced from how sore I still was. “Your ass knows what he feels like, right?”

We stood there for ages, and I started to wish it on, nearly calling my body out, anything to get his hands off me, and I waited a long time. Then as Vince cupped my root with finger and thumb, my balls with the remainder, digging and massaging, heat flushed my body as nature kicked in.

“There we go. Good boy.” It seemed to last forever, then seeing it trickle to nothing, Vince gave a few good shakes. “You need anything else?”

I quickly shook my head.

“Prefer Henry cleaning it out for you, hmmm? Kinky fuck, ain’t you?”

I stiffened and Vince chuckled. Getting a tug at my arm, I was pushed under the shower. Vince’s grab at my cuffs took my hands up, over the shower head, leaving me nearly tiptoeing.

Water came on almost instantly, forcing me to drop my head and splutter against the assault. It was ice-cold, causing me to writhe, but then heat came through, enough to make sure the dirt was cleaned away. Vince disappeared, and I was left hanging there with water splattering the tiles as I closed my eyes and let it wash away everything.

Someone touched my shoulder with a sponge, and I bit back a cry, jerking against the spider contact.

“Christ, you’re a bloody soft sod,” said Vince and he gave a snort as his nakedness brushed against mine. “Fuck knows what Jack sees in you.” He washed himself first, occasionally nudging me as he moved. Then the rub of sponge came over my shoulders, slow circles that seemed in no way hurried, sweeping the small of my back, then around to my abs. The familiar scent of coconut hit the air, one of my favourites from back home.

Vince dragged his nose over my shoulder. “Smell fucking good, though.” He pulled back and a kick forced my legs apart. Feeling the sponge slip between my cheeks, I gripped onto the cuffs. My groin was cleaned, the sponge then slipping down my legs, seeming to spend longer on my feet as he bit gently at my left ass cheek.

Hands pulled my ass open and Vince sucked in a pained breath. “Yeah, you’re sore down here. Henry been riding you hard?” He fingered around my hole and I jerked at the contact, trying to move away. “Hey.” A slap came at my hip. “Jack doesn’t bitch-wince like this. Fucking man up, you pussy, otherwise I’ll pass you around to every man here who can manage to get even half a semi on.” He pushed his finger in and I bit back a cry at a slow fingering. “See, you’re learning. No damage up here yet, though. Have to keep checking these things, right? Poor Jack and his ass needed licking better after taking the thick end of that whip. Had a few tears going on. Gonna love splitting him some more,” breathed Vince, again giving a rough bite at my ass cheek. Then he was back to his feet, cleaning my arms, then hair as I screwed my eyes shut. Jack....

BOOK: Antidote (Don't)
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