Chapter Two

The way that blond boy’s glacial blue eyes looked at Luke, it was like the world itself was shrinking, caving on itself, sucked away down the drain of a black hole till there were only two people in the entire universe that mattered. Out with the stars. Out with the moon. Just vacant pitch space… and two boys. Luke didn’t know it was possible to feel someone else’s gaze all over your body, but he felt it, warm and probing and uninvited. He felt dirty, unclean. He wanted to go home and take a warm shower, let the sin roll of his back and wash the smell of cigarettes from his hair.

He knew, he knew it at the core of his soul, there was something sick and perverted with this other boy, like a rabid animal with nothing to warn of the oncoming madness but a fierce emptiness behind the eyes.

"Luke huh...? What a pretty name sweetie. It fits, very... biblical... "

The blonde’s voice was the incarnation of a mock, and Luke flinched when he flicked his collar. He felt it against his throat, and for some reason the sting lingered, chased his words away. He breathed in and out, in and out it was the only thing he could do, he was seeing reels of green and yellow and he felt himself slide down the lockers just the tiniest bit, fighting his light-headedness… but he drowned it in.

The blond leaned closer, and Luke’s spine tingled and his cheeks shocked red again.

"Well... Luke... I really must be going. Got things to do, people to see... you know how it is."

The graze of a soft tongue behind his ear brushing up against his pale skin made his shoulders stiffen.

"Be careful out here at night little Luke... you never know, who lurks in the shadows."

Luke’s hands pushed forward as if he wanted to shove the boy away, but his palms ran up against cooling air, as the space between them broke away and Grinder was already stepping back. Luke felt the air fill his lungs like he’d been dragged from the icy cold water and forced to breathe again.

That smirk hollowed out his stomach.

He stayed where he was, pressed against the lockers looking terrified, his last nerve was shattered, he didn’t know where to stand or what to think, he couldn’t remember what he had even been doing before this had happened, all he could feel is the closeness, the proximity, the ghost of feeling that crept up his spine and made him ill, deep, deep in his soul.

The blonde boy turned his back and the bleached light overhead detailed every flexof his shoulders and lightly muscular arms, the curve in his back, the shadow of his spine. He picked up his shirt from the ledge of the porcelain sinks against the wall and threw it over one shoulder, like he didn’t care if he wore it or not, like he didn’t plan on actually slipping it over his head at all. He walked out, slicking back his blond hair from his face and only after he left did Luke allow himself to push away from his locker and collapse against his bench, clutching the edge, trying to still his heart, one leg bent the other stretched balancing on the heel of his boot.

The moments felt like hours where all he could see was the speckled and flecked patterns of the floor beneath his feet when suddenly he caught a movement and his blue gaze raised to see Alice’s gentle face. She was slipping the chain attached to her notepad over her head. The girl had a way of saying things with her eyes that no one could ever say with words.

She cupped his cheek, and at first the touch startled him, but he didn’t flinch away, his face pale as he met her eyes, calming his own… and then she was gone. Turning, walking away… and that’s when he noticed Zaiden leaving. The older boy looked upset, but by what Luke couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was the storm… Luke almost asked but the tall lanky boy was so reclusive he wasn’t sure if asking would further upset the expression on that thin face, but the moment was gone, and that tall kid walked out… and knew he should have asked. He felt it at the pit of his stomach.

He was alone now. Nothing but the sound of the flickering bulb at the corner of the room, sputtering and humming. He stood up and fixed his collar a little, his shoes skidding on the floor, causing him to almost trip. He was still a little shaky.

Luke reached the old black telephone mounted to the wall and his thin fingers lifted the receiver, wiping it on his sleeve as he slipped in the three quarters, listening as each one clattered in an almost empty chamber inside. The world was full of cellphones and internet… payphones were a dying breed writhing in their final agony… well, not writhing so much as fading away.

He dialed, brushing his soft brown hair from his eyes.

A little bit of fear could go a long way. I never believed it when someone told me that nothing scared them. Because everyone is afraid of something, everyone is terrified. It's human nature... to fear.

I loved fear... I loved instilling it in small scared little boys. And I had one in mind...

Luke.

Fear, it would devastate him. I wanted to take away the one thing he loved... the one thing that made his life worth living... his faith.

If I took that... there would be nothing left of him. If I made him dirty... ? There would be no one to turn to... what god would have him? Damaged goods... he'll just be a lost boy alone, without a friend, without a god, and without any faith to guide him home.

And I would be the one to take it.

I knew he was already terrified, even more so than probably my own mother was when the flames took her... and this was just the beginning. I have so much more to take from him. And it was going to be fun, because maybe...

Maybe I was just that sick.

But he would be more scared than mother. Because... she knew she was going to die... this boy... this small pretty little boy... knew he would live. He had to know deep down inside of him that I wouldn't kill him, oh no... I wasn't that kind. That would be merciful, and I had no mercy inside of me... no pity. No shame. He would hurt and I would make sure that I kept him alive for it. Tortured him... killed him internally. Inside of his heart of hearts and the deepest whitest parts of his soul.

And that's how I knew... as I hid deep within the shadows... that he was frightened. So scared and I could practically smell it on him, he smelled like strawberries, and rain. Charcoal... hmmmm...

He came out of the locker room, shaking, and started to put the three quarters I had given him into the machine. He was trembling... it was so cute. I watched him move his brown hair from his pretty blue eyes, such pretty blue eyes. He was terrified.

Good. He fucking should be.

I didn't let the phone even ring once. I moved forward swiftly, from my place in the darkness, where I was watching him, watching my gorgeous prey, one hand wrapping around his pale quivering lips... and my other arm going around his arms and tiny, tiny waist... What a girly piece of shit. I could feel him shaking in my arms... I could feel his heart beat, beat, beat. I leaned in, nuzzling his hair and his small ear, sucking a small bite onto his pale slender neck... before whispering, quietly, oh so quietly... "I told you... Luke... be careful of what hides in the shadows... "

My dick was already hard and leaking in my jeans, straining obscenely against the fabric, pressing against the smaller boy's cute ass.

"Ohhhhh Fire... " I groaned loudly... he was fucking mine tonight. I grabbed his ass, groping it roughly through his pants, rubbing and rutting forward a little, enjoying the delicious friction.

"Mmm... you are so fucking cute, it's too much really, it is. Such a cute little ass sweetie pie... mind if I take it for a ride?" I asked cruelly, a little saliva getting onto his cheek and ear as I hauled him forward, dragging and pushing him into the locker room.

"Come on now... easy... I know you want this, I saw the way you looked at my body, you think I'm sexy... and baby I am, aren't you glad I think you're cute too? Now you can play with me all I want... until I get bored. And sweetie... that's not happening any time soon..." I laughed a little, forcefully pushing him down to sit on the bench across from his own locker... Fire, was I going to make him burn. Scream and cry and bleed and just fucking BURN.

"Now, see... we can do this the easy way... or the hard way. Personally I prefer the hard way... wanna hurt you so bad, you just fucking SCREAM victim... you SCREAM someone take my pretty little mouth and shove something big, huge, and dripping into it. Yeah, don't deny it... you do... " I was brutal with my words, knowing they would affect him bad. Knowing they would kill what little hope he had inside of him that he would make it out of this OK.

He wouldn't... because I was master here. I leaned down, facing him... my mouth breaths away from his own, staring deep into oceanic eyes... "So honey... what's it gonna be?"

Luke lifted the receiver to his ear, holding it an inch or so away, painfully aware of the sticky film that he couldn’t seem to rub off, his lips pressed together in a thin line of concentration, his brow furrowed with thought and anxiety. He was on edge. Teetering on that tipping point between nervousness and hysteria, swallowing the bubble of pain in the back of his throat, fighting back the tears that threatened to well in his eyes and he wasn’t even sure why… but he wanted to cry.

The dull sound of tone before the dial. The deep breath. The sound of his foot tapping nervously in a wide empty hallway.

A hand slapped over his mouth to block out his gasp of shock, and the telephone slipped from his hands to hit the end of its chord and twirl there, like a dangling crow caught on the end of a wire. The suffocating hold blocked the air inside his lungs.

His mind went blank, green churned in his vision and everything shrank away to sounds, smells, touches.

A strong arm wrapped around his waist clamping an arm to his side, driving it against his ribs painfully. His body tipped forward and his cheek hit the black telephone box, but he didn’t even feel it. He was numb, cold, unfeeling... the blind shock before the truth seeps in.

His heart felt like it would pound its way through his rib cage to the freedom of the lighted windows above.

Nothing made sense. Panic choked him. The world was spinning in circles.

Something wet and warm pressed against his neck, sucking till just breath ghosted his clavicle and he heard that voice… a voice hoarse with cigarettes and afire with a passion that Luke never wanted to understand.

“I told you… Luke… be careful of what hides in the shadows…”

Already a prayer was spinning through his mind running recitations through his half conscious thoughts.

Terror.

Breathing.

Horror.

“Ohhhhh Fire…”

A rough hand groped Luke in an intimate and disgusting way, and he let out the tiniest sound in the back of his throat. Not a moment later he was jolted roughly and his chest and chin hit the telephone wall mount. For the briefest of moments he breathed in that strange scent of the clorox they used to clean it.

Luke's eyes clenched closed and the palm of his one free hand pushed up against the dial buttons in a clawing scramble. The receiver spinning at his knees let out wails of sound.

“Mmm… you are so fucking cute, it’s too much really, it is. Such a cute little ass sweetie pie… mind if I take it for a ride?”

Even though Luke couldn’t see the blond boy’s face he knew it was him, by his scent, by the feel of his hands, by the roughness of his character and by those words laced with arsenic.

He was jerked suddenly back from phone and hauled forward, his shoes skidding on the white hall floors, dragged towards the locker room doors…

...and suddenly it looked like a mouth to him, a hole that led to nowhere good.

Luke's arms struggled to free himself, his hands gripping the blond boy’s stronger arms, but it was no use, he was pulled inside, till all he could see was the drinking fountain and the lockers as he was pulled past them.

"Come on now... easy... I know you want this, I saw the way you looked at my body, you think I'm sexy... and baby I am, aren't you glad I think you're cute too? Now you can play with me all I want... until I get bored. And sweetie... that's not happening any time soon..."

Grinder’s laugh was a sound that belonged nowhere and it came from nothing, it was emotionless and icy and the thought of the insinuation behind the words was disgusting. It made Luke’s mind reel.

He didn’t want this. Shock flamed scarlet to his cheeks as he was shoved down furiously hard against the bench in front of his own locker.

All the hope drained out of his aching, sick world.

This couldn't be happening, he was wracked with denial.

Dread opened at the pit of his stomach as he realized at last… what those words really meant…

The pain in his throat broke and he let out a dry sob before he could stop himself.

He was going to be raped.

Faintness cast him into darkness for the briefest of half-seconds… how… how… how… how? The answers were slipping away… why God? Why would God let something like this happen to him?

"Now, see... we can do this the easy way... or the hard way. Personally I prefer the hard way... wanna hurt you so bad, you just fucking SCREAM victim... you SCREAM someone take my pretty little mouth and shove something big, huge, and dripping into it. Yeah, don't deny it... you do... "

He was going to be assaulted.

Please, God.

Someone. Anyone. Anything. Save him…

He was looking into blue eyes that emptied into a limitless depth of nothing but violence… and he was sick with terror…

His mouth opened and the tears started flowing out of pure numb terror and he gasped in air before he cried out; “PETER!!! Alice!!! Zaiden… somebody!!! PLEASE!! Help me!!!! PLEASE HELP!!” his words broke and he trailed off into a whining whimper… “help me…”

His words echoed into silence… a metal, tin silence.

Luke inhaled the taste of cigarettes as the blond's face leaned in close to his, and all he could see was those cruel, cruel features.

His hand raised and his fingers splayed and his palm pressed against Grinder’s chin and part of his cheek and he tried to push that face away from him so he didn’t have to look into those eyes anymore, shaking, starting to hyperventilate. It was numb, his whole world was numb. Panic fluttered in the center of his being and he screamed, starting to push and slap spastically at the air as if he could force the other boy away. “GET AWAY FROM ME!!!”

“PETER!!! Alice!!! Zaiden… somebody!!! PLEASE!! Help me!!!! PLEASE HELP!! help me…” He was crying out, begging for anyone to come and save him... but no one would, I knew we were all alone, and he was mine for the taking.

I wasn't going to let anything or anyone ruin my fun. That's why I blocked all the exits, no one could get in, and no one could get out.

Trapped like a little, cute, frightened rabbit.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!!” he screamed as he pushed my face away from his, his second hit splaying out and missing me completely.

"I guess it's the hard way, huh? And sweetie pie, you can scream and yell all your want, but we are completely alone, and no one, is going to save you. You're just a catholic whore, what a fucking bitch. And believe me, honey, you'll scream like a bitch, when I'm through with you." My words were cruel but my fist crueler. I stood up, looking down at him with dark, dark blue eyes. Eyes that spoke of anger, and the pain that was to come. Smirking, in a very devil-may-care way I swung my hand before back handing the boy with terrible voice straight across his face. Blood spurted from his nose and his lip split wide open, a dark bruise would soon form on his pale, porcelain cheek. His hair whipped about his face, as he was hit so hard he flew to the side, falling off the bench, landing on his ass.

"Awwww did that hurt sweetie? Did it sting? I bet it fucking did. Not as much as this will, believe me," I sneered before hauling back and kicking him in his belly, sending the boy flying, laying on his side. I leaned down, pulling out a cig and lit up, blowing smoke in the pained, bleeding boy's face.

"Poor baby, does your tummy hurt? Huh beautiful? Does it fucking ache... ?" I whispered into his face, moving forward to lick some of the blood from his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away and straightening.

"Ughhhn... do you have any idea what you do to me... I'm so fucking hard, I know you want it, I can tell... you're just a fag... a little boy playing pretend with a god that doesn't even exist... but tonight... I'm your god." I aimed a well placed kick at his face, tearing his nose open, and hearing a sickening crack coming from his nose, seeing it break. Afterall, I didn't want him dead... where would the fun in that be? I wanted to watch him squirm, to beg for his life, for his innocence. To be so close to death he could fucking taste it...

I leaned down, breathing in his face harshly... before grabbing him and slamming him into his own fucking locker, he was so small, so weak. He never stood a chance. Like a butterfly, caught, pinned, beautiful... weak. And I had no mercy for the thing in front of me... and I wouldn't. I would relish the screams as I ripped his wings from his fucking spine. His head collided with the metal and I looked at him... just, just LOOKED.

"Are you scared? Huh little Luke? Answer me when I speak to you!" I yelled slamming my fist into the locker, a mere hair away from his face. I wanted to scare him... fill him with fear and pain and dear Fire so much fucking cum he burst. I waited to see if he would respond.

I laughed quietly before flipping him over, and pressing him into his locker, before fitting my hips against his pert little ass, rutting against him, my dick hard and poking his tiny ass... groaning in his ear... "Fire so cute, so hot baby... you're a good little catholic boy right Luke? You pray to god every night and beg for him to save your soul? Huh? Well... Fire says I get to take your soul. So be a good little boy and hold still while I play," I said holding him there as I humped away, panting, at his tiny body, feeling his belly and small slender waist... Fire...

I felt close so I grabbed his hair harshly and threw him to the ground, watching his body roll and his head slam into the bench with a sickening crack.
Standing over him I popped the button on my jeans, nice and slow before easily sliding the zipper down, the noise echoed through the deathly silent room. Tossing my still lit cigarette to the ground I pulled my dick out of my pants looking down at him, stroking myself lesiurely, petting my cock, as pre-cum slid down the length, groaning.

He was so beautiful, laying there, not knowing what I was going to do next. But I knew... and it was going to be sick and vile, and fucking delicious. At least... for me it would be.

"I got something for you sweetie pie, something yummy and warm and creamy... just for... ughhn... you baby... " I groaned as I stroked nice and slow, afterall... I wasn't in any hurry...

I had... all... fucking... night.

Luke’s second strike towards the blond boy’s face missed and his fingers laced through the air and met nothing. His world was contracting, it was becoming tiny, it was becoming this single moment, every breath he took was propelling him into a barely conscious darkness, and the only thing that mattered was his life, living, protecting himself and yet it was the only thing he couldn’t do. It’s like his legs didn’t work, like his feet were lead… and he was just too small and too weak, even if he were to break free, Grinder would easily over power him.

"I guess it's the hard way, huh? And sweetie pie, you can scream and yell all your want, but we are completely alone, and no one, is going to save you. You're just a catholic whore, what a fucking bitch. And believe me, honey, you'll scream like a bitch, when I'm through with you."

His life was flashing before his eyes: getting up this morning, eating breakfast, coming here. He’d done nothing wrong, he’d done everything right. He remembered to pray at noon, he’d been kind to everyone, he hadn’t started any fights, he’d done his work, he thought he had made a friend or two even. How did this happen? How did he wind up , here, in a public locker room with a blond boy who wanted him in the worst sense of the word.

The first strike hurt the most.

It knocked him off the bench, one arm scrabbling holding on to its edge as he fell and landed on his rear against hard cement floor. The punch had hit his face so hard his head ached, blood started to stream from his face, and a spreading numbness broke over his lower lip, till scarlet trembled down his chin into his lap.

He’d never really seen his own blood, at least not since he was young. His lifted hand drew back, and blood tipped his delicate fingers.

"Awwww did that hurt sweetie? Did it sting? I bet it fucking did. Not as much as this will, believe me,"

Luke looked up, just in time to see the blond hauling back and he knew what was coming and tried to crawl away over the floor but the kick collided with the soft part of his stomach, sending him groaning, flipping over, legs half bent, knees partially pressed to the floor, his hands splayed over his stomach.

“Mercy! Please!” He begged in a gasped, his belly ached, a painful thud that made him whimper every time he breathed in and the tears rushed to his eyes, welled, filled, started to trickle down his cheekbones, over the ridge of his nose and onto the dirty floor.

This was it. Everything he had worked for , for years was about to be taken away right here under the humming sputtering lights in a locker room, in a place that was societies contrition for his sins.

Grinder was nothing if not cruel, there wasn’t any mercy or kindness in him, and Luke should have read it in that smirking face long before the blond leaned over him and exhaled a waft of cigarette smoke, devilish, draconic.

"Poor baby, does your tummy hurt? Huh beautiful? Does it fucking ache... ?"

“You need to stop this, this is sick… this is cruel…” Luke begged in a high pitched whine, but he doubted anything he said would be able to save him.

His head jerked back as Grinder leaned in and lapped at the blood and Luke raised a hand to push him away as those cruel lips met his, in a kiss. Something that was supposed to be affectionate twisted into a perversion, a mockery.

He let out a little gasp when the other boy pulled away, and wiped his mouth fervently.

"Ughhhn... do you have any idea what you do to me... I'm so fucking hard, I know you want it, I can tell... you're just a fag... a little boy playing pretend with a god that doesn't even exist... but tonight... I'm your god."

Luke’s shaking hands slipped on the ground as he pushed himself from it, he couldn’t hold in his sobs, they wracked his body, made him hiccup and gasp. “You are sick! There’s something wrong with you! You don’t have to do this, please don’t! I don’t-

Grinder’s heavy boot swung around and he kicked Luke on the side of the face sending him sprawling to the ground in a gasping heap of pain and blood, his face was bruised badly, his porcelain skin split. His lower lip trembled as the blond boy leaned down and he was dragged to his weak legs by his collared shirt and slammed into his own locker.

"Are you scared? Huh, little Luke? Answer me when I speak to you!" Grinder struck the locker next to his ear with a fist that could have met Luke’s face and didn’t. Missing by centimeters.

This boy was crazy, possessed, distorted. He barely even gave Luke time to answer.

“… yes…” came the tiny reply that left his own lips, his heart was fluttering in his chest. “I-I’m… I’m scared…” He was terrified.

The blond boy only smiled, let out a humorless laugh and shoved Luke’s body around till his chest was pressed to the lockers, his small hands against that metal, and Grinder’s hips ran up against his rear. Luke panicked, pushing against the locker, whining, his cheek shoved hard to the grill of the door, tears still running down his face.

"Fire so cute, so hot baby... you're a good little catholic boy right Luke? You pray to god every night and beg for him to save your soul? Huh? Well... Fire says I get to take your soul. So be a good little boy and hold still while I play,"

He felt so completely used… so completely humiliated, disgusting, his lower lip trembling at every ram of that bigger stronger body against his. “Pater noster, qui es in caelis…” he sobbed out the prayer in a terrified whimper. “sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra….” This wasn’t happening to him… this wasn’t… this couldn’t be. This had to be God’s punishment for him feeling attracted to boys. God… he wanted to die, he would rather be dead. He would have been perfect his whole life, he would have never touched another boy, never. Please. God.

Strong hands slid over his belly wrapping around his waist and suddenly Luke’s hair was gripped viciously and he was thrown down onto the ground, sliding across it, colliding with the bench, he gripped his head and crumbled in on himself, his brunette hair falling into his eyes, across his face as he desperately tried to crawl away under the bench trying to get to the other side.

He was on his belly now, dragging himself over the floor, hyperventilating, gasping in air as he heard that zipper pulled down and he choked out more tears.

"I got something for you sweetie pie, something yummy and warm and creamy... just for... ughhn... you baby... "

“Pater noster…” He started the prayer over again… not turning, not looking, his head spinning, his stomach sick…

He had whined about how cruel this was... how sick. And hey, maybe it was sick, but I liked being this way. I liked who I was, no matter what he thought. Because at the end of the night? I get to get off, spill all my creamy cum where ever I want to, and finally let loose all that pent up pleasure. I was wound so tight, leaking, thick and white down my cock head I was sure to cum soon.

I knew he was scared, even if he hadn't answered my question, even if he had cried, screamed, or was dead silent. I would always know. I could just... smell it on a boy. And Luke... little, precious, catholic Luke, was terrified.

Mmmmmnnn... just the way I like my little boys.

And now... here he was, muttering his pathetic prayer, while crawling, like a fucking insect on his sure to be flipping, sickly tummy. Fire... I bet he was just... aching.

Bet his fucking head was spinning so hard he just wished he would drop dead... before I got to him. Before I consumed him.

Fire is strong... burning everything in it's path, and growing, growing, growing, until the wall of flames is ten feet tall, towering over everyone, over everything. Leaving nothing livng behind. Just pain, loss, and grief.

And Luke was surrounded. I would make sure this would be a night that he would never ever forget.

I wanted him to scream, sob and plead with me... not to touch him. Not to feel his silky skin, not to press into that feminine mouth...

No... it wasn't time for that just yet. Just a little longer. One of these days now. Afterall... I like my torture to sit with my victims for days, a little mind fucking goes a long way. Especially with the weak, pathetic, girly ones.

I will ruin him.

"Where ya going sweetie pie? Huh?? Awww baby doesn't want to play anymore? Luke... " I cooed nastily before stepping around the bench, still stroking, nice and slow, I wanted to last at least a little longer. I stepped over him, before pushing him onto his back, rolling him with the tip of my boot, leaning down, "You're hurting my feelings... just wanna play honey... "

The kid was a mess. His nose clearly broken, ribs probably just bruised, nothing else but his nose was brother I think. But it was still enough, blood poured out of his nose, some getting into his mouth, and some dripping down his chin to stain the little white of his collar, how fucking ironic.

And the red of loss will wash over the purity of innocence, as it is taken. So it shall be.

He was shaking, trembling, trying to curl in on himself... how pathetic.

"What a bitch. But that's okay... I like my sluts pathetic. Got something for you Luke, just gonna spill all over that pretty face, twinky. Come here," I growled, pulling him into a sitting position and spreading my legs, aiming at his blood, and bruise covered face as I started to stroke a little faster, feeling the heat coiling so tightly it hurt.

"Fucking girly piece of shit, Fire, you deseve this. Naive children like you make me sick, think everything's all perfect, you pray to your fucking god... and then everything will be okay. You'll be saved... taken care of. Sounds all nice when it's out on paper. But in reality... ? It isn't like that. Welcome to the real world, bitch." I snarled, low and cruel, jerking faster and faster.

"Fuck baby! So close... you can open wide if you want sweetie pie... Ohhhhhh ughhn Luke! Shit!" I came, and came hard, spilling all over that beautiful, sobbing boy's face. Some of it landing in his mussed up brown hair, and some laid out in long ropes across his forehead, bridge of his nose, and redened cheeks. I groaned, loud and obscene, as my dick released the last few straining globs, and I watched as a little got into his small mouth.

"Mmmmm wonder how that taste Luke... is it yummy baby? All little girlie boys like you need their daily does of cum, gonna keep filling you sweetie... every... chance... I... get." I began to rub my still hard cock all over this face, spreading the hot, sticky, creamy cum around, making sure it got everywhere.

It was times like these that I showed any real emotion, seeing that beautiful boy, looking broken and ruined beneath me, my pearly white warm cum all over his pretty little cock-sucker face. It almost brought a tear to my eye.

Now there was an angel.

I leaned back and laughed before stroking a hand down his clothed chest and down to his pants, fingering his belt... all the fun I could have. We were completely alone, no one to save him.

But no... not yet. He was lucky, lucky that I liked to play with my food before I ate it, lucky I only brought my bike so I couldn't kidnap him... yet, and lucky... he was fucking lucky I hadn't killed him yet.

I dipped my hand lower, cupping him through his pants, stroking, and petting, almost lovingly... I wanted to make him sick with my sweetness...

"You like that baby... huh?? Want me to play with your pretty little clit... ?" I said meanly, making fun of his small dick, giving it a girl-part name and demeaning his tiny size.

I stepped away, after lingering only a second, before hauling back and kicking him straight in the face. Not hard enough to do any lasting damage, but hard enough for him to see stars, I'm sure.

I watched him fall back before grabbing him and picking him up, shoving him so hard he fell over the bench, tripping and landed in a heap at the foot of his own locker. What a klutz.

"Don't get up on my account... " I said teasingly.

I walked over to him, with purpose, not making a sound before, almost kindly, picking him up off the ground. I reached into one of the lockers next to him, finally finding what I was looking for... athletic tape. Perfect. I shoved the kid, hard, into his own locker, stuffing him in there like I was gonna stuff my cock up his ass and in that warm, perfect slutty little mouth, I groaned aloud at the thought, grabbing his hands and pushing his wrists together before binding them with the tape, so tight I knew his wrists would chaff badly by the time someone even found him... he'd probably even bleed from his wrists. It was fitting and I nodded at my handy work when the knot was so secure I knew he wouldn't break free.

I moved in closer and pulled his bound wrists above his head, hooking them onto the coat hanger hooks above him. It was tall enough that he was raised off his feet and the tips of his toes barely touched the metal bottom of the locker.

Fire... I wanted him to plead, beg not to be left here in this dirty locker, in this dirty locker room. I wanted him to sob and plead... oh please Stark please! Don't leave me here! Pathetic little bitch, Fire that would be so hot... I hope he begged and cried and was so scared to be left alone. I smirked, before leaning in, capturing his bloody and cum soaked lips with my own, kissing him passionately, pushing my tongue into his mouth exploring, tasting the remnants of myself on his tongue, before pulling away... getting a good look at him.

He looked so small, so tiny, hanging there, nose broken, body beaten, bloody and covered in my hot creamy cum, tears running down his face, a beautifully ruined boy. My masterpiece, it would seem... but no... I wasn't done with him, not even close.

I pulled out Fire and lit up another cig, flicking my hand to the left, blood droplets falling to the floor from the kid's busted face. Some of it even got on Fire, but I left it there... a victory over a god that wasn't real.

I took a long drag and just stood there looking at him for a while before I finally spoke.

"Do you want to know why you are here? Huh Luke? Bleeding, bound, and broken? It's because you are weak. Your god makes you weak. And until you learn that, then you will keep finding yourself in these positions... only they may be worse, and someday, someone else might get ahold of you, and they might not be as kind as I have been. You are weak because you believe in a fairy tale that isn't real. You are jaded and naive, and I have absolutely no pity for you."
I leaned in and pressed a small chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. Flicking his blood soaked, used-to-be white collar I spoke again,
"Think about what I've said, you're going to be alone in here all night... with nothing but your thoughts... so think about it. Think about what's real and what's not and look deep within yourself. I think you will come to find that everything you have ever believed in has been a lie. Afterall... " I blew a large puff of smoke in his face, leaning in and whispering, "What kind of god... would leave you here to rot? All alone? In the dark? Betcha didn't think of that... did ya kid?"

I pulled back and slowly shut the locker door in his face, closing the lock, and spinning the dial. It was a resounding click, and I really hoped the kid would cry, his last hope for the night was walking out the door.

"It's time to grow up sweetheart."

And with that I walked to the doors, flicking the light off and leaving him in stone silent darkness. Walking out the door, never looking back, I made my way to my bike and wondered what else I could do, for the night was still young, and I was still hard. I would think sweetly of the boy I left to bleed and cry all alone tonight, and it would spin my wildest fantasies, feeding them, while I rode this night out, until the dawn would come.

Fire... the night was young.

"Where ya going sweetie pie?”

Terror.

Monsters wore masks sometimes, delicate beautiful things that made them look like everyone else, you could stare one right in the eye and never even suppose that beneath the pretense there was only poison in his veins. Sometimes monsters were just as grandiose and larger-than-life as comic book heroes they battled. Sometimes you could see them, but you couldn’t quite believe them…

Like Grinder.

If Luke had been told what kind of person the blond stranger was, it would have been obvious, the tell-tale signs would have been in the quirk of that smirk and the dull light of those cool blue eyes. But he would have never believed that this dragon would have ever reared its head so violently, and so completely unashamedly.

Luke’s fingers clawed over the sleek tile floor, pulling himself under the bench, dragging his body to the other side, his legs kicking. Adrenaline was pumping his veins with numb fear, action and reaction, some drugged combination of the two. Strange little gasps were leaving his mouth, the blue of his irises were only thin halos around black dilated pupils.

He was terrified.

“Awww baby doesn't want to play anymore? Luke... " The heavy footsteps of the older blond boy ricocheted off the walls of the locker room, the sound was earsplitting. Luke’s startled gaze found the dark treads of Grinder’s boots.

"You're hurting my feelings... just wanna play honey... "


The toe of one boot was forced between Luke’s chest and the floor and he was rolled over onto his back hard, the heel of those dark treads digging into his chest, and his eyes found the blond boy’s, the sheer hatred in the darkness of them stilled the breath in Luke’s lungs.


He could taste the blood that had trickled into his mouth, it was drying on his lips, under his nose, across his face in a scarlet smear, some had trickled to his collar. The tiny wooden cross around his neck was draped at an angle dangling off his shoulder to graze the bloodied floor.


The blond boy had the zipper of his pants open, his sex organ pulled out. Some monstrous thing that he wanted to use on Luke and the panic made him freeze, paralyzed like he couldn’t move.


He clenched his eyes shut. Grinder was stroking himself, languidly, and it was so lewd it made Luke queasy. He lifted his hands, his fingers clenched into fists trying to hide his face and chest as though he half expected to be beaten again, and he probably would be.


"What a bitch. But that's okay... I like my sluts pathetic. Got something for you Luke, just gonna spill all over that pretty face, twinky. Come here,"


“No! wait! Please!” He was no longer begging God. He was begging this boy for mercy, dragged up and made to sit in front of him, face at waist level. God. No. Please. Luke pushed his hands against the boy’s thighs keeping his eyes his eyes shut and tried to turn his face away but he was held there tightly by the blond’s strong hold of his dark locks.


“Don’t defile me, please! Please! I swore myself to the church, I’ve never touched anyone! I’m begging you. Please!” Luke could hardly keep the pain from rising in his throat, the tears from welling in his eyes, they streaked his cheeks, smudges that ran the blood from his jaw.


"Fucking girly piece of shit, Fire, you deseve this. Naive children like you make me sick, think everything's all perfect, you pray to your fucking god... and then everything will be okay. You'll be saved... taken care of. Sounds all nice when it's out on paper. But in reality... ? It isn't like that. Welcome to the real world, bitch”


The cruelness in those words. The truth in them, the actuality that God wasn’t going to save him, no one was. Peter wouldn’t somehow, miraculously walk in on them, Zaiden wouldn’t have forgotten something in his locker, Gabe wouldn’t shout insults at him from some far corner of the building, Alice wouldn’t come back to check on him. Nobody was worried yet. It had been a few minutes. Only a few minutes.


His cross dangled from his neck, bent forward, his hair grabbed tightly, forced closer, but his body trying to back away. The boy was stroking himself even harder, and Luke was doing his best just to get away. The disgust was so strong he felt like he was going to purge his guts up onto the floor at Grinder’s feet.


"Fuck baby! So close...”


Luke whimpered, shoving against those hips.


“You can open wide if you want sweetie pie... Ohhhhhh ughhn Luke! Shit!"


Warmth struck him across the face, spurting against his cheeks and down the ridge of his nose down his delicate lips, he was so stricken he gasped in air and he got some in his mouth, even though he raised his hands to his face to protect himself. He let out a sob, writhing, fresh tears carving paths through the semen splattered against his face.


"Mmmmm wonder how that tasted, Luke... is it yummy baby? All little girlie boys like you need their daily does of cum, gonna keep filling you sweetie... every... chance... I... get."


Luke let out a groan of nausea and tried to spit it out onto the ground, but his head was forced up as the blond boy began to rub his still stiff member all over his face. Further humiliation. Luke couldn’t even help himself, all he could do was raise his shaking hands, and tremble there on the ground, stunned, shocked… he couldn’t even think straight anymore. Clarity ebbed away like the last grains of sand from an hourglass till he was left with hollow mortification.


Grinder’s hands were all over him, dipping low to stroke Luke through his pants conjuring the blush at his cheeks.


God hated him now.


“You like that baby... huh?? Want me to play with your pretty little clit... ?"


“Don’t touch me.” Luke said in a small voice, it was a high pitched, tremulous, barely audible. Blood, ejaculate, and tears smearing his complexion and his clothes. His fingers tried to push away the blond’s but it was a weak attempt at freedom, the boy pulled away on his own, straightening, standing up.

He had to hold on to something, anything, Luke pressed a palm to the cold tile to stabilize himself, sniffling, trying to wipe his face with the back of his free wrist.

A kick struck him across the nose.

Black. White. Black… green. Lights flashed in front of his eyes as he landed hard on the ground. The world reeled dangerously, he was on his hands and knees teetering sideways, collapsing on one hip. It wasn’t enough for Grinder though, not enough that he’d beaten and humiliated Luke, his was a game that toyed with madness, wielded it, like a blunt weapon.

Luke was dragged to his feet in a traumatized stupor and pushed over the bench to collapse in front of his own locker. His lower lip shook, his shoulders shaking as he cried. A prayer, barely a prayer left his bruised lips. “I detest… all-m-my sins, because of your j-just punishments, but most all because they….” His voice broke… “they offend You, my God….”

"Don't get up on my account... "

The blond pulled Luke up off the ground, and he couldn’t even look up at the taller boy, he couldn’t seem to move, he couldn’t seem to run, he couldn’t even seem to breathe. Everything he had ever tried so hard to keep himself from was forced on him, he was ruined. He was destroyed with sin. He wasn’t pure anymore. He was dirty, filthy… abandoned.

He was being shoved into his locker roughly, he could barely fit, and he was small in stature and build, his slight wrists were gripped tightly and wrenched at a painful angle, bound up by tape so tight that he felt the blood race to his fingertips.

“Please, please… don’t do this…” He tried, but the blond boy ignored him, focused only on his cruel, work.

His wrists were wrenched up above his head to the rack inside the locker, he was so short that his toes barely reached the ground. It was all happening so quick, too quickly… Luke was in a blind haze of shock. He was going to be left here, here… in this dirty locker room, filthy with the blond boy’s sin and hatred… and there was no remorse in that face, none at all.

“Don’t leave me! I’m begging you! Please, have mercy! Don’t leave me like this! PLEASE!!!” already, his arms were beginning to ache. “Please….”

Luke’s pleads were met with a smirk that sliced like a knife, unflinchingly cold. There was nothing there. Just a vast canyon behind those blue eyes. The blond boy leaned in, and his mouth ran up against Luke’s in a furious kiss, a sick demand, a twisted perverted display of affection, his tongue violating and intrusive.

Luke took a breath as the other boy pulled away, that gaze running over his small beaten body. He was nothing if not casual, as if the pain and humiliation he’d put Luke through was a pastime, some hobby he’d repeated time and time again, and maybe he had.

Luke’s body shook, standing on his toes trying to relieve his weight off his already bruised wrists, he teetered a little, unbalanced. Still crying, but silently now, looking years younger than he really was, his dark hair partially obscuring his left eye, a red flush of embarrassment tingeing his porcelain cheeks.

A lighter and a cigarette filled the silence between them.

"Do you want to know why you are here? Huh Luke?”


He swallowed painfully, his wrists pulling on his binds.


“Bleeding, bound, and broken? It's because you are weak. Your god makes you weak. And until you learn that, then you will keep finding yourself in these positions... only they may be worse, and someday, someone else might get ahold of you, and they might not be as kind as I have been. You are weak because you believe in a fairy tale that isn't real. You are jaded and naive, and I have absolutely no pity for you."


Grinder leaned in again this time slower, pressing a softer kiss to Luke’s one that made something in the pit of his stomach flutter, it was that kiss that lingered with him, disturbed. Placeless.

The blond clipped his collar with an arch of one eyebrow. Some smug supercilious expression.

"Think about what I've said, you're going to be alone in here all night... with nothing but your thoughts... so think about it. Think about what's real and what's not and look deep within yourself. I think you will come to find that everything you have ever believed in has been a lie. Afterall... "

Smoke snaked out of Grinder’s mouth and swirled up between them, till Luke breathed it into his lungs, rejecting it, wheezing a little.

"What kind of god... would leave you here to rot? All alone? In the dark? Betcha didn't think of that... did ya kid?"


The door was slammed before Luke could even answer and he was plunged into darkness, with only a small grid of light to see by. He listened as the dial on the lock spun.

That’s when he broke down, he crumpled, and he sobbed hysterically, cramped in a tiny locker, broken, bruised, bleeding, and assaulted.