The Counter-Kidnapping of Heath and Joseph
WARNING: This is a wip. No non-con coitus actually occurs here, though the situation is grim.
And an extra caution for the extreme ugliness of the character Gardner.
Grumbling at Joseph for taking all the bedroll, Heath goes to turn over to win back said items, only to find that something stops him. Thinking it may be Joseph playing games with his legs again, he scrunches his eyes up then cracks them open, squinting up at a ceiling. Ceiling? What the fuck? He tries to turn over again and hears the rattling of chains and bed frame from both above and below him, explaining why his legs and arms aren't going anywhere. Fucking hell... where the fuck am I? "Joseph, what did you do?"
Gardner putters over the space heater, fiddling with the dials until the element kicks back on. Turns to smile at his guests. "There you are. I was beginning to think I'd used too much. You guys haven't been eating as good as you should," he licks chapped lips, looking Joseph over and checking his pulse.
Joseph frowns, curls his nostrils. Snores.
The new voice startles Heath awake. That's most definitely not Joseph. Wide eyed he looks around the little room, a strong smell of cheap cigars hitting his nostrils. "Who the hell are you?" he enquires darkly at the shriveled man leaning over Joseph. Joseph. Thank god I haven't lost him. As Heath gets a good look at the man however, his eyes narrow, the relief at seeing Joseph there - tied to a chair beside the bed, which Heath finds himself laying on - short lived. "Leave him alone."
Facing Heath, Gardner's thin lips widen into a grotesque smile of rotten, tobacco stained teeth. "Oh, I do like a boy with spirit." The mattress gives a screech of protest as he sits down beside Heath. He leans in, greasy hair flopping, comb-over gone askew. Trails a jagged and stained fingernail up Heath's chest, "Do you have a name?"
It's only then that Heath realizes he's naked, when that disgusting nail tickles light hairs and skin. And suddenly he's overly suspicious, every word that leaves his mouth thought about thoroughly. "No. Not one I can remember."
"Heath?" Joseph awakens in slow stages. Wrinkles his nose at the smelly man, blinks Heath into focus. Does not understand why he and Heath are naked and tied off to furniture. This game is not fun, anymore. "Heath?"
"Heath," Gardner repeats, the name coming out with a hiss of anticipation. "I like that," his hand reaches a nipple, plucking at the cold hardened nub. "Like it a lot." Faded brown eyes flick to Joseph. "Glad you could join us Joseph. You're waking up just in time for the fun," he punctuates the word with a twist to Heath's other nipple.
"Fuck!" A sharp breath rushes past Heath's clenched teeth and he glares at the man. There's a telltale hint of fear in his brown eyes, however. This man is certainly not in any hurry to kill them.
"Heath?" Softer. Less certain. The smelly man is pinching Heath's nipples, and Heath doesn't seem to be enjoying it. Joseph cringes into the chair, tugs at the restraints. No, this game is not fun anymore.
"Fuck?" Gardner chuckles, tongue flicking over his lower lip. "We'll get there. Thought I'd be nice and give you a little warm up first." He pets the other man's chest. Heath's skin is smooth, cool against his sweaty palm.
If he wanted to become a martyr, Heath would be quite happy in his current position. Then at least all the crap stuff would be happening to him instead of Joseph, whom he's trying to protect. He's not. Bummer. Throat dry, he squirms, the man's hand feeling clammy and uncomfortable on his chest. "What do you want?" Besides sex, because that's frightfully obvious. "You can't be after money, that's for damn sure."
Joseph doesn't mince words. "Heath, he smells bad and I want to go home."
Hearing the pitiful child-like voice, Heath looks over to Joseph, his eyes full of sympathy and cleverly masking the fear that was in them. If Joseph saw that Heath was afraid, he would panic. But what can he say to him? "I'm sorry, Joseph, I'm working on it, I am."
Gardner lets them talk, unconcerned. His focus is on the lithe form shackled to his bed. Petting, prodding, stroking at Heath like child with a new puppy.
His fingers thread into the soft hair at Heath's navel, wriggling through the thickening mass of crinkly hair until his hand bumps the softness of Heath's cock. He twists his wrist to palm the column of flesh, pump it. "You have a nice dick," he observes.
It's hard to ignore the man and impossible to forget about the direction he's taking this. Heath strains desperately to keep calm, holding on for Joseph, and he finds it helps if he keeps focused on the trembling form in the chair. "Joseph, I need you to think for me," he says as steadily as he can, though as Gardner manipulates his cock, Heath struggles with his composure. "What did you do after I'd gone?" Christoph. It has to be. Or at least one of his goons.
"FIRE!" Joseph screams. Ralph said that, if he ever found himself in a bad situation, he should scream Fire! This situation seems very bad to Joseph. "I didn't do anything, Heath, except call Ralph, and FIRE!"
The talking was easy enough to ignore. The yelling is annoying. And entirely too distracting. The bed lets out a squawk as Gardner stands up. He glares at Joseph. "Yap yap yap," he complains. It only takes him a moment to strip. His nakedness magnifies the rancid ugliness of his body. Plucking his soiled underwear from the heap of clothes on the floor, he approaches Joseph, "Can't keep it up with you howling like that."
Squeak, goes Joseph's chair, as he flattens against it, eyes fixed on the erect penis jutting from beneath the pot belly. "Heath?"
Having only just recovered from hearing that Joseph called Ralph - Christoph, definitely - Heath hurriedly intervenes. "Hey, come on, he'll keep quiet." He looks pointedly at Joseph, silently telling him that that's the only way he'll be left alone with any luck. "Leave him alone."
Gardner shakes his head, his fingers finding a fistful of Joseph's hair and jerking, his other hand crumpling the underwear, "Should have thought of that before you went and made all that noise." Right on cue, Joseph's mouth flies open, protesting the hair pulling. The fetid wad of fabric go in, a dingy sock threaded through the leg holes behind his head and tied off. "There you go," Gardner laughs, a spray of spittle misting outward, hitting Joseph's cheek. "Nice and quiet now."
With a leer, he turns back to Heath. "Now. Where were we pretty boy?"
Heath winces in sympathy for Joseph, but as Gardner turns back to him, he feels the bile rising up in his throat, almost in anticipation for what is going to happen. "You were going to tell me if you're working for Christoph...."
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