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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 17, 2010 11:53:47 GMT -8
Chance did go quiet. With his other arm chained, he was able to let the weight of the chains make up for the strength his body didn't have. He didn't bother to struggle with them, knowing the force exerted would not amount to their strength. "Equal and opposite," he said quietly, answering his own questioning thoughts. If he pulled on the chains, the energy he used would be equal and opposite, because they weren't weaker. His forehead touched the wall, leaning against it while his eyes closed. The fear that raced his heart and went through his body made it very difficult for his length to respond. There was a familiar stirring that started in the pit of his stomach, but it was overshadowed by fear. The longer he kept at it, however, the more he felt his arousal fill, but god knows he'd had better. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, not making a sound at all. It wasn't until he was finished that his head removed itself from the wall and his eyes opened.
The kiss was what made him yelp and he habitually pulled his head away as his tongue entered his mouth. He could taste himself on his mouth, and just having his lips anywhere near his made him wonder if he could just sink his teeth into him. That'd be a bad idea and he kept himself from even trying. "Why?" He asked, glaring at him again. He didn't understand what the point was, although there didn't need to be one. He could work out reasons, motive and psychological impulse. Chance might as well have been a walking talking textbook, but when he wasn't... he was as human as anyone else.
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Post by jonathon on May 17, 2010 12:04:21 GMT -8
Jonathan smirked. Man, these kids were so predictable. Every one of them had asked that question. And quite honestly, the man was getting tired of answering it. So, he didn't. instead, he looked at him. "Tired?" he could feign concern when he wanted to. He caressed Chance's cheek and looked at him."Do you want to lay down?"
Sure, he would let him lay down. That was why he had a bed in the basement. A queen-sized, too. But that didn't mean he was done with him. Oh, no. he was just getting started. After all, he hadn't actually struck the boy yet, or slept with him. There was still so much to do!
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 17, 2010 15:40:18 GMT -8
Of course he was tired! It was four in the morning, and he was terrified. All that he wanted to do was run back to the safety of his bed and hide. He felt like he was five, and he couldn't make himself small enough. He cringed at the touch of his cheek. He knew what he was doing. Chance wasn't an idiot, and he loathed it. His parents used to use a sickening sweet tone with him after being unruly and it always confused him. It would turn him in circles, but he wasn't a little kid any more. "Of course I'm tired, but don't pretend. Don't pretend like you're going to help me, or that laying down is going to make it better. I know it's not. It's not a break. I'm not some little kid you can pretend to care about. You—you've already held a gun to me, I know just how concerned you are." His voice was shaky and quiet. He didn't want to hear false hope, or be given any ounce of compassion. It just made him feel more disgusted. Though, he doubted he cared which was easier for him to deal with. Chance just didn't want to be fooled and while he couldn't be, he was making it clear that he didn't fall for it.
"—But, I do." He wanted off the wall. He didn't want to remain in that position, but he highly doubted the bed was giving him a better one. It was a decision between two terrible things. But, the chains were uncomfortable and at least the bed was warm... He shuddered at his own thoughts and dropped his head, bowing it with his eyes focused on the floor. He didn't have control over the situation anyway.
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Post by jonathon on May 17, 2010 15:56:44 GMT -8
Jonathan released his arms, allowing him to go to the bed. As he did, though, he picked up a long chain. Without any warning, he pushed Chance onto the bed and hit him between the shoulders with the chain. He wanted to her him scream. He had a sadistic need to make him scream. Plus, he wanted to tell him the secret about the room.
"You think you can just say what you want?" he yelled. "This is MY house!" and with that, he struck him again. He would have ended up hitting him anyways. Chance's comments only gave him an excuse. Usually, he didn't need one. "You really think your precious father gives a damn what I do? My house, my rules."
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 17, 2010 18:27:23 GMT -8
Chance's start when he hit the bed wasn't one that he was allowed to register, because he startled him more dangerously as the chain was lashed between his shoulders. A grunt of pain sounded, and he buried his face immediately into his hands, biting down on lip to keep from yelling loudly. There was a cry, but it was muffled. The pain shot through him, bringing tears to his eyes already. Obviously, he had control issues, but did that surprise him? No. Not at all. Chance couldn't help but say what he said. He didn't have much of an internal control to stop himself from talking. He stopped biting and gritted his teeth. The human jaw could exert 200 pounds of pressure, and with the tightness of his jaw, his molars could definitely feel the tension occupying him. It was the second hit that made him yell out a little louder followed by a brief cry before quieting again.
"I think you think that you can make me believe you," he mumbled, before quieting again. Chance knew how to be quiet. Memories had flooded his mind since this started and in those memories were rules; rules that weren't Jonathan's, but ones he knew. The ones where he was supposed to be silent, regardless of what he felt or what was happening, he could be quiet. And a part of him still thought if he was too loud then someone would wake up and get killed. He didn't want that to happen. Not at all.
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Post by jonathon on May 17, 2010 18:42:46 GMT -8
Jonathan struck him a third time. "Yell all you want. Nobody can hear you down here. You can be dying and noone would know it. Sounds fascinating, doesn't it? A sound proof room with a locked door. Do the math, boy. It equals you being all mine."
At that, he hit him again. He wanted him to cry, to beg him to stop. He thought that was hot."What do you think he'd do? He can't live without me." He was half-threatening Ben's life. Th other half was simply because he thought Ben was desperate. Why else would he move in with him? He had to be with someone.
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 17, 2010 20:28:16 GMT -8
"Actually, that equation is only a sound proofed room and a locked door," Chance whimpered; although he did understand what he was saying. It was just that he had to put in what he got out, and he didn't put Chance in that equation. The idea was slightly terrifying, but also, comforting. Not because he wanted no one to help him, but because no one would wake up and then they wouldn't get shot. He wouldn't have to watch anyone die because he was too loud. Although, he still didn't plan on making a lot of noise. The third hit made him cry out a little louder, but he was good at muffling it and trying his best to keep his crying to himself. His shoulders were already aching and painful, but it wasn't the pain that made him want it to stop. Chance was a scientist. He knew exactly how the human body worked and what certain treatments could do to it. Hitting someone over and over again with a chain could cause permanent damage. It could damage his muscles, the bone, make it difficult for him to have adequate strength in his back and even affect his posture. "I think I'm not going to tell you what I think," He replied, and that much was honest. He wasn't going to humour him in talking about what he thought his dad would do. He wouldn't, because he figured he'd tear him apart psychologically if they got into a conversation like that.
"Please, please stop hitting," he begged, out of fear of all the problems that might come of it. You couldn't hit someone with a chain too many times without causing a hell of a lot of issues. Not to mention, the pain would become unbearable. He didn't want nerve or tissue damage. Nor did he want to go into shock... "Please." He mumbled again, his eyes squeezed as tightly shut as he could make them.
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Post by jonathon on May 17, 2010 21:13:03 GMT -8
Jonathan glared at the way he corrected him. Wrapping the chain around his hand, he created a handguard before slapping him across the face. "How dare you! I said to shut UP!!!" his voice thundered across the room. The boy was going to learn a lesson about the way he talked to him. Even if the lesson was beaten into him.
And then he started begging him to stop. Jonathan smirked and grabbed the boy's hair, pulling his head up to meet eye level. "You want me to stop? You're going to have to earn it." And he didn't mean earn it the way Marco or Ben would want him to earn something, which might include cleaning out the attic or mowing the lawn. Oh, no. What he wanted was something the boy was going to be repulsed by. And it turned him on that he would.
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 17, 2010 22:23:05 GMT -8
Chance screamed out in pain as soon as the hand went across his face, accented by the chain. His head dropped, covered by his hands and he broke into quiet sobs. Just the contact of his hand against the skin added to the throbbing that was already centring over his cheek. Already the skin was reddened, and he was positive that a blue-ish tint would rise soon, if it already wasn't. He did stop talking though. He was the one that kept telling him to shut up, and so he did just that. His head kept whirling, trying to rationalize how this could happen. He wanted to think it was one sick nightmare and that he would wake up. God knows he had had some pretty terrible ones in the past. He had seen and experienced a lot in his short life. He was more than happy to spend the rest of it with his books and logic and whatever job suited him at the time. He didn't want this to happen. But, who would?
He was forced to look at him when he pulled his hair. His watery eyes glared up at him, scared and wanting nothing more than to disappear. He couldn't sink into oblivion though, no matter how hard he tried. He almost didn't say anything at all to him, because it was Jonathan that told him to shut up. But, he found his voice again. "How? I'll do it." He probably wouldn't like it, but he would rather save his muscles and nerves from permanent damage.
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Post by jonathon on May 17, 2010 22:45:49 GMT -8
Jonathan took a step back to watch Chance. Shaking his head, he asked, "Does she know how big of a pussy you are, this cop of yours?" Of course, he had heard Grace be mentioned. Chance talked about it often enough with Matt. Jonathan couldn't remember her name, but that didn't matter.
He asked how, and Jonathan didn't say a word in reply. Instead, he took off his shirt and tossed it to the young man. He removed his pants and briefs next. He figured Chance would get the picture. After all, he was Mr. PHD.
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 17, 2010 23:03:00 GMT -8
Chance didn't appreciate him mentioning Grace. He was more frustrated with that then the actual insult. Because, to him, it wasn't insulting. Sure, his word choice was harsh, but while Chance felt weak, he knew that anyone in his place would. Besides he had never been brave or tough anyway. Whimpering, he replied quietly, "I'm sure she does, but I have a strong acuity of mind, so--so it balances out." He explained. Chance was into science and academics. He excelled in ventures of the mind more than body. He was... Well, to put it bluntly, he was a nerd and if Grace expected a tough guy then she was looking in the wrong places. But she had known him back when he was a teenager that hadn't yet grown into his limbs and hadn't figured out that combing his hair was probably more attractive than running his hand through it. He was very comfortable mentally, and he wasn't afraid to be outright about it. Chance was a wimp.
As Jonathan stripped down, Chance stared at him. There was nothing about him that Chance wanted at all. He wasn't saying anything though and so he stared at him completely perplexed. He wiped at his eyes, and just kept looking at him before he spoke up. "I--I don't know what you want." He said fearfully. He was afraid it'd be worse because he didn't know. But this wasn't common ground for him. Ask him to name different bacterium or to explain each one of the elements on the periodic table in great detail, he could do that! But no, not look at a man and know what the hell he wanted him to do.
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Post by jonathon on May 17, 2010 23:21:25 GMT -8
Ok, so that wasn't the reaction Jonathan wanted. He wanted to see anger out of him. Emotion. Jonathan thrived off it. So, he continued on about her. "Cops make good lays. Maybe I'll call her up and show her what a real man is like. I'm sure she's wondering after seeing you."
When he said he didn't know what he wanted, he scoffed. Was he serious? Advancing, Jonathan kissed him. "Lay down and I'll help you figure it out." He wasn't going to come right out and say he wanted sex. He'd rather toy with him about it first.
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 18, 2010 0:28:43 GMT -8
He didn't want him talking about Grace, and to hear him threaten to call her made him glare all of a sudden. Even with tears still shining in his eyes, he glared. "Shut up! Don't you even think about her! You don't know a damn thing. —Literally, actually, compared to me. But especially about me and her." He yelled at him, actually yelled at the man. As soon as he was done, however, he nearly whimpered. It felt like a dumb move. It felt like the type of move that would make matters worse. And immediately, he wanted to duck and hide. But, there was no where too hide, and he felt his heart beat a little faster. He deserved to be yelled at! He really did. But, at this juncture he wanted to sob pathetically. He didn't, of course, he just looked at him, somewhere between glaring and just staring. It was when he advanced that Chance had the urge to back away. Again, when he was kissed, Chance didn't kiss back. He didn't retract either, but he wrinkled his nose when he was finished.
He didn't really want to be shown. He could guess the things he wanted, but he expected exacts. It wasn't like he sat around thinking about how to have sex with another man. Sure, he knew how, because it was something that a lot of people knew. But, he had never done it... A woman, yeah, he had been with a woman. More than one, and on several different occasions. His last relationship had been predominately sex. It lasted for six months and that was all there was to it. They weren't in love and didn't necessarily care about each other, but they fulfilled something and it was easy to do when they were stuck in Africa researching. Slowly, he went back down on the bed, laying back but letting himself sit up on his elbows so that he could see him. "You could just tell me."
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Post by jonathon on May 18, 2010 0:53:41 GMT -8
He had guts. He yelled at him. But his bravery was extremely misplaced. Oh, he would get him for that, too. He dropped it for the moment. He crawled into bed beside Chance and patted the mattress. "Lay down." He wanted him flat on his back.
Jonathan no longer cared that Chance was pretty. He was going to get rid of him as soon as Ben was back. Chance didn't know it, but yelling at him blew it. In more ways than one. Jonathan reached down and massaged Chance. He wanted him to relax and lay down. Then he would strike.
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 19, 2010 22:57:27 GMT -8
Technically, he thought, he was laying more than sitting. But, as he patted on the bed, Chance slowly started to let his elbows slip so that his shoulders and head touched down on the mattress. His head turned, blue eyes flashing at Jonathan filled with nothing pleasant. He was afraid, and it showed both in gaze and the way he struggled to keep his body from trembling. He drew in deep breaths, filling his lungs with air over and over again in hopes that it would send the message to his brain to be calm. He was trying to calm himself down both physically and mentally, running through the expanse of his knowledge, and trying with difficulty not to think of what was happening. As he felt his hand on him, his eyes closed momentarily. He didn't want to relax to the point where that felt good. It would always be guilty and there was an unsettling in his chest. A ragged breath was exhaled as he opened his eyes, stammering out, "You know, American cars beep to the tone of F." He informed him in a quiet stutter. It came out of no where, unless you were in his brain, in which case it followed a sequence that led him to car horns in the states. Actually, they were probably the same as Canadian cars, but Chance couldn't be certain.
By all accounts, he was doing what he told him to. He was laying there and he wasn't fighting him. Although, spouting off random facts probably didn't make any sense in the least. And god, his heart was beating like crazy. He could hear it in his ears and it was enough to drive him insane. "And the heart, it creates enough pressure to shoot blood 9 metres." Chance, again, was a rambler and when he was scared, he didn't think in the way sensible people did. There was begging, sure, and the need to survive, but his coping techniques drove him straight into saying what crossed his mind. It wasn't necessarily to Jonathan, although he was the only one there to address. He couldn't have cared less if he was listening or not. Knowledge was his only source of comfort, the one thing no one could take.
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