Early Mornings and Late Nights Under Overcast Sky (Jensen/Jared RPS) -- 43/51
Title: Early Mornings and Late Nights Under Overcast Sky
Characters/Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki; Jensen Ackles / Luanne (OFC); Jared Padalecki/Pete (OMC); Jared/Eric Kripke/JDM; stated Jared/Sandy; stated Jared/Rebecca (OFC) and stated Jared/Ryan (OMC)
POV: Jensen Ackles
Author's Notes: It’s fiction. That means it’s not real, folks. Jensen and Jared are real people. So is Eric Kripke. The show “Supernatural” is a real TV show on the WB11. If anything else in this is real, I wasn’t aware of it.
Summary: Jared’s girl (Sandra) breaks up with him. Jensen tries to help. Things go (rapidly) downhill from there... then fester... then get better?
Come on! Hop in the handbasket! There be room here for everyone!
Spoilers: Overall there’s really nothing to see here… there are a few very vague spoilers for “Bugs” and some minor spoilers for “Faith”, “Bloody Mary” and "Shadow".
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Chapter Forty-Three: Lord of Illusions
Rating: NC-17 for horror, language, vulgarity, violence, sexual violence, rape (anal), abuse, adult themes
Pairing: Jensen/Jared; Jared/Pete (OMC)
Word Count: 2,639
Chapter Forty-Three: Lord of Illusions
Jared goes to get another beer from the cooler after we’ve played a couple hands of Texas Hold’em. I lean over to Pete, who’s sitting to my left, whisper, “So when do all the… festivities… start?”
He nods and smirks knowingly at me. Ray and Aaron notice, and cast a glance in Jared’s direction before leaning in and asking what’s going on. Pete smiles. “He wants to know when the fun starts.”
It’s Aaron’s turn this time who’s lips curl up in a half-smile. “Can’t wait to get started, huh?” Well, we have to wait… the toys aren’t here yet.”
“I thought…” I turn my eyes sidelong towards Jared, tilt my head slightly in his direction. “…was the toy.” I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. It’s like I’m there, but I’m not in control of my body. Almost as though I’m watching myself… but I’m not. I’m there. I’m there. I just don’t have control of my body.
Ray grins, rocking on the back legs of his chair while downing the rest of his bottle of beer. “Yo, Jared… grab me one while you’re there?” He tosses the empty bottle into the rapidly growing pile of empty cans and bottles before settling the chair back onto all four legs. “Oh, he is… we just have… a couple more coming… if you know what I mean.”
“And we have to wait for two more people.” Aaron checks his watch. “But they should be here any minute.”
Jared returns with a bottle of Budweiser Select for Ray and a can of Coors light for himself, settles back down in the chair immediately to my right and picks up his cards. He tosses a couple chips into the pot after some not-so-careful consideration (one of the drawbacks to playing poker while drinking… you get a little… loose with your chips) and motions to me.
I match his bet, lean back casually in my chair, and watch as Pete folds, and Ray calls. Aaron folds as well. I have pocket aces-hearts and clubs, and the flop shows a queen of hearts, two of spades and ten of hearts. I find myself idly wondering who the two other guests are, and what toys they’re bringing with them. I wonder what fun we’re going to have with Jared. I feel strange-as though I already know what ‘festivities’ entails, what’s going to happen tonight, but I’m trying to figure it out anyway-like there’s two of me in the same body and only one of me is in control-the other’s just visiting for a while.
There’s a knock at the door later in the evening, after Ray’s lost all his chips and Aaron’s down to his last bet. I’ve won some, lost some, and at the moment have pocket aces with the bet coming to me. I raise.
Ray lets our guests in, gets them beers. I wave with one hand, toss some chips into the center of the table with the other. It’s Eric, with Jared’s and my co-star, Jeff. I know without looking that it’s them.
There’s hushed whispering behind me, and I just know something bad is going to happen. The part of me that’s along for the ride, helplessly watching, trapped in a body that won’t cooperate, wants to take Jared by the arm and rush him out of here, get him back to our cabin and lock the windows and doors. Or get him in to the car and down the mountain, back to my apartment where nothing bad can happen to him-to us.
But I can only watch helplessly as Aaron loses the last of his chips, likely by design, claps his hands and says “Let’s get this party started!”
Jared seems surprised to see Jeff and Eric, but not unhappy about it, though he does make comment about how he thought Eric was supposed to be on a flight to Los Angeles tonight.
“Oh, well… the plane couldn’t take off in this… and besides, it was just a ploy to get you up here anyway… wasn’t it, Jensen?” He rubs his hands together with a smile on his face, glancing at me as he says my name, looking for validation.
“That’s right.” My voice is low and controlled, completely serious. “See… Jared…” I trail my finger along the dust-covered table, purposely not looking at Jared, but able to see the confusion/shock/disbelief in his eyes nonetheless. I can hear his feet, the soles of his cowboy boots, caked with dried mud, crackling across the mud and gravel coated floor as he backs up, the slow rattle of a freestanding wooden counter when he bumps into it.
Aaron and Ray are already on either side of Jared, and they each take hold of an arm, holding him still when he struggles uselessly, kicks his feet noisily against the floor. When he screams, it’s Jeff who reminds him that we’re alone up here, and that no one’s going to hear him. “Scream all you want… as loud as you want… there’s no one here to hear you.”
That makes him struggle even more in Aaron’s and Ray’s strong grips, but it’s futile. Both Aaron and Ray are strong guys, easily hold him despite his thrashing. Ray smirks, steps to one side, capturing Jared’s leg inside his own, stilling him completely before pressing close and whispering in Jared’s ear. “You really thought you could get away from us? You couldn’t get away in high school.”
Jeff rubs his fists slowly, carefully folds the fingers of his right hand in before looking at the fist he’s made. “You know…” He says thoughtfully, turning his hand, looking at the white tight of his knuckles… “I’ve always wanted to do this.” He says as he drills his fist into Jared’s midsection.
“Ooooof…” Is all we hear from Jared, the quick whoosh of air leaving his lungs, and Jeff is fast to follow up with a second punch, a third, and a fourth.
Jared looks to Eric and Pete, and to me, for help, his eyes silently pleading, ’please don’t let them do this’. But he gets no reprieve.
Jeff stops then, slowly lets his hands play at Jared’s belt, undoing it to allow Jared’s pants to fall to his ankles, effectively shackling them together. His hand finds Jared’s cock inside his briefs, worms its way down Jared’s briefs to roughly stroke him. “But you like it, Jared…” He hisses. “Look at yourself. You’re hard. This turns you on.”
“Queer.” Ray, from Jared’s right.
“Faggot.” Aaron, on his left.
One word each from either side of him, and as Aaron and Ray settle their stances, tighten their grip on his arms, both of them glance at each other and then at Jared. “Sicko…”
Jeff draws away, leaving a telltale bulge in Jared’s underwear. “It’s all true.” He says, makes his voice sound contrite even though there’s not a hint of contrition in the man, not for this. “And you see, Jared… we can’t have you ruining this man’s career.” He motions to me. “Jensen is going places. Look at him. All the women want him. All the men want to be him. He could get a job anywhere. We’re lucky to have him on Supernatural.”
I nod, hold out my arms and act embarrassed although I’m not.
Eric nods wholeheartedly, agreeing with Jeff before addressing Jared. “And you… you have to go ruining things. For everyone. You think the CW wants a gay man on its network? Imagine the publicity. Bad publicity.” Eric shakes his head. “You’re ruining the show, Jared. And ruining our careers-Jensen’s career-because now we’re-he is-associated with you. We can’t have that. Can’t allow that.”
Jared shakes his head frantically, his eyes light on me, and there’s begging in them. Pleading. But I’m only here to watch. I’m in my body, with a mind that’s not my own controlling me. I feel sick as my boots crunch across the floor, walking slowly, deliberately.
“Not true…” Jared whispers, but his voice is cracking. He’s starting to see his helplessness.
“But it is, Jared. Haven’t you noticed the ratings? Going down. And getting picked up by the CW for a second season? Only happened because we promised them we’d kill your character-Sam-off. They can’t have a homosexual actor on their network. It’d ruin them and they’re not even up and running yet.”
Jared shakes his head roughly, like if he shakes it enough he’ll wake up and find this was all a bad dream. “No…”
“Yes…” Eric’s voice lingers on the ‘s’, and he reaches to lift Jared’s face when his chin falls to his chest. His other hand snaps out and connects with Jared’s cheek, leaving a wide red mark that’s darker than the flush that rises on the other cheek. The slap was meant to humiliate, and it did, even moreso because Jared’s still hard inside his cotton briefs.
Eric directs the boys-Aaron, Ray and Pete-to get Jared outside. There’s rope. “String him up, boys.” He cackles evilly, and his words bring a new round of struggling from Jared, but he’s dragged outside kicking and screaming without managing to break free.
I walk with Eric and Jeff outside, and we share casual laughter about the future of the show, how much better it’ll be without Jared. It’s all business, of course, though none of us particularly want to work with him now that we know his sexual preferences. It’s nice when business works hand in hand with one’s personal desires and religious beliefs.
When we get outside, Jared’s on his knees in the mud, naked save his undershorts, which are sodden and clinging to his erection. I wonder how they’ve managed to make him stay hard, when there are bruises blooming on his chest and back, his midsection mostly, where I assume they’ve kicked him to get him to his knees, to stop fighting them. His arms are spread, bound at the wrists and held apart from his body. If he were standing, it would look as though he’d been crucified without the crucifix.
His head hangs low, waterlogged hair is plastered to his face, in his eyes, and he blinks, shakes his head to try and move them, but neither movement does any good.
Eric turns to me, dragging the tips of two bats through the mud behind him. He offers me one. “So how ‘bout it, Jensen?” He asks. “You want to tee it up?”
Inside, I’m screaming ‘no, no, no… you can’t… you can’t make me do this… you can’t make me hurt him’. But they can’t hear me. I can’t hear myself. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it when I rub my hands together and take the bat from Eric. I walk to stand in front of Jared, the bat hanging loosely from my left hand.
“You know, Eric…” It’s Jeff. “We should at least give him one last hurrah…” He rubs his jaw thoughtfully with thumb and forefinger. “I mean… after all… he is hard. And… as men we can have some compassion for that.” His voice is heartless innuendo.
Eric grins maliciously, and I find myself agreeing with Jeff. “It is somewhat... cruel of us… to leave him wanting like that, Eric.”
I want to claw at my insides, get out of myself. I want to run away with Jared so I know he’s safe, never let him get hurt again. This can’t be happening.
“So what about it, Pete?” Ray calls. “Your chance at a dream.”
And I know without really knowing. Pete’s bi. And he’s always wanted Jared. But maybe Jared wouldn’t give him the time of day. Or Jared was just attracted to someone else. I don’t know all the details, but I know… just know, that’s the gist of it.
Pete pushes off the wall of the cabin he’s leaning on with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his chinos. “I think I just might…” He swaggers down the steps of the porch into the rain, and over to where Jared’s tied, immobilized.
I watch in horror as Pete pulls his cock out and strokes it rapidly to hardness in front of Jared. Jared’s head is turned to one shoulder, eyes closed and a grimace that reveals teeth on his face when Pete roughly palms Jared’s balls through his undershorts, twists and yanks on Jared’s cock.
He tears the cotton from Jared’s body, leaving him naked in the rain, cock rigid and darker than the rest of his pale skin, glistening pre-cum and rain against his belly. There’s a glint of silver, and I know they’ve put a cock ring on him, to keep him hard, likely just to add insult to injury, to throw it in his face when the beating starts. The bruises hint it already has.
Pete presses up behind him, slides his hands onto Jared’s hips and digs his fingers deep, into the bone. “If you relax, the rain might just be enough lube for you… Know how you like taking it up the ass…” He drives balls-deep into Jared on the words ‘taking it up the ass’, pulls out slightly only to shove back in as he hisses, “…like taking it like the little bitch you are.”
Jared’s mouth is frozen in a silent scream, and the rain isn’t enough to hide his tears, nor is the thunder enough to drown out his sobs as Pete forces himself deeper and deeper into Jared’s most private of places. “How’s it feel to be my bitch, Padalecki?” He hisses.
Jared can’t answer except by a broken and choked sob.
When Pete pulls out, I can see shadows across his spent dick, and I know it’s blood by the way it washes away in the rain that still falls. Jared falls to his knees, bent forward at the waist, a shadow of what he is, what he was. He’s broken, defeated. There’s no fight left in him, and I want to cry at the strength it saps him of to stand-because somehow he manages to pull himself up, to his feet, to stand when I walk up to him again with the bat in hand.
He just looks at me sadly, with an acceptance in his eyes that tears me apart. He bows his head slowly, casts his eyes down.
“Jared…” He has to know this isn’t me. Has to know I’d never do this-what they’re asking-to him. But how can he? It’s me standing in front of him with a baseball bat in hand. It’s me who he sees… hears murmuring his name in falsely pleasant tones. But it’s not me. It’s a bitter version of me, a far more vengeful one, who just cares about himself, about furthering his career, doesn’t care who he hurts in the process, even if it’s someone like Jared.
Innocent, sweet Jared, who wouldn’t hurt a fly… who loves for the sake of love, regardless of color or creed or religion… or gender. I wish I could protect him, but I can’t. I can only watch, feel myself controlled by the evil, self-centered half of my brain. And suddenly I’m not in my body anymore-I’m watching from above, seeing everything in third person-watching myself. It’s like a movie.
I’m grateful that I’m not trapped-a prisoner in my own body-when he whispers so that no one can hear but me-the other me-“It’s okay… I forgive you, Jenny.”
But it’s not a kinder or a gentler fate when I watch the bat rise and fall… rise and fall. I swear I can hear his bones cracking, and his heart breaking.
“Just like high school… isn’t it, Jared…”
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Characters/Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki; Jensen Ackles / Luanne (OFC); Jared Padalecki/Pete (OMC); Jared/Eric Kripke/JDM; stated Jared/Sandy; stated Jared/Rebecca (OFC) and stated Jared/Ryan (OMC)
POV: Jensen Ackles
Author's Notes: It’s fiction. That means it’s not real, folks. Jensen and Jared are real people. So is Eric Kripke. The show “Supernatural” is a real TV show on the WB11. If anything else in this is real, I wasn’t aware of it.
Summary: Jared’s girl (Sandra) breaks up with him. Jensen tries to help. Things go (rapidly) downhill from there... then fester... then get better?
Come on! Hop in the handbasket! There be room here for everyone!
Spoilers: Overall there’s really nothing to see here… there are a few very vague spoilers for “Bugs” and some minor spoilers for “Faith”, “Bloody Mary” and "Shadow".
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Chapter Forty-Three: Lord of Illusions
Rating: NC-17 for horror, language, vulgarity, violence, sexual violence, rape (anal), abuse, adult themes
Pairing: Jensen/Jared; Jared/Pete (OMC)
Word Count: 2,639
Chapter Forty-Three: Lord of Illusions
Jared goes to get another beer from the cooler after we’ve played a couple hands of Texas Hold’em. I lean over to Pete, who’s sitting to my left, whisper, “So when do all the… festivities… start?”
He nods and smirks knowingly at me. Ray and Aaron notice, and cast a glance in Jared’s direction before leaning in and asking what’s going on. Pete smiles. “He wants to know when the fun starts.”
It’s Aaron’s turn this time who’s lips curl up in a half-smile. “Can’t wait to get started, huh?” Well, we have to wait… the toys aren’t here yet.”
“I thought…” I turn my eyes sidelong towards Jared, tilt my head slightly in his direction. “…was the toy.” I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. It’s like I’m there, but I’m not in control of my body. Almost as though I’m watching myself… but I’m not. I’m there. I’m there. I just don’t have control of my body.
Ray grins, rocking on the back legs of his chair while downing the rest of his bottle of beer. “Yo, Jared… grab me one while you’re there?” He tosses the empty bottle into the rapidly growing pile of empty cans and bottles before settling the chair back onto all four legs. “Oh, he is… we just have… a couple more coming… if you know what I mean.”
“And we have to wait for two more people.” Aaron checks his watch. “But they should be here any minute.”
Jared returns with a bottle of Budweiser Select for Ray and a can of Coors light for himself, settles back down in the chair immediately to my right and picks up his cards. He tosses a couple chips into the pot after some not-so-careful consideration (one of the drawbacks to playing poker while drinking… you get a little… loose with your chips) and motions to me.
I match his bet, lean back casually in my chair, and watch as Pete folds, and Ray calls. Aaron folds as well. I have pocket aces-hearts and clubs, and the flop shows a queen of hearts, two of spades and ten of hearts. I find myself idly wondering who the two other guests are, and what toys they’re bringing with them. I wonder what fun we’re going to have with Jared. I feel strange-as though I already know what ‘festivities’ entails, what’s going to happen tonight, but I’m trying to figure it out anyway-like there’s two of me in the same body and only one of me is in control-the other’s just visiting for a while.
There’s a knock at the door later in the evening, after Ray’s lost all his chips and Aaron’s down to his last bet. I’ve won some, lost some, and at the moment have pocket aces with the bet coming to me. I raise.
Ray lets our guests in, gets them beers. I wave with one hand, toss some chips into the center of the table with the other. It’s Eric, with Jared’s and my co-star, Jeff. I know without looking that it’s them.
There’s hushed whispering behind me, and I just know something bad is going to happen. The part of me that’s along for the ride, helplessly watching, trapped in a body that won’t cooperate, wants to take Jared by the arm and rush him out of here, get him back to our cabin and lock the windows and doors. Or get him in to the car and down the mountain, back to my apartment where nothing bad can happen to him-to us.
But I can only watch helplessly as Aaron loses the last of his chips, likely by design, claps his hands and says “Let’s get this party started!”
Jared seems surprised to see Jeff and Eric, but not unhappy about it, though he does make comment about how he thought Eric was supposed to be on a flight to Los Angeles tonight.
“Oh, well… the plane couldn’t take off in this… and besides, it was just a ploy to get you up here anyway… wasn’t it, Jensen?” He rubs his hands together with a smile on his face, glancing at me as he says my name, looking for validation.
“That’s right.” My voice is low and controlled, completely serious. “See… Jared…” I trail my finger along the dust-covered table, purposely not looking at Jared, but able to see the confusion/shock/disbelief in his eyes nonetheless. I can hear his feet, the soles of his cowboy boots, caked with dried mud, crackling across the mud and gravel coated floor as he backs up, the slow rattle of a freestanding wooden counter when he bumps into it.
Aaron and Ray are already on either side of Jared, and they each take hold of an arm, holding him still when he struggles uselessly, kicks his feet noisily against the floor. When he screams, it’s Jeff who reminds him that we’re alone up here, and that no one’s going to hear him. “Scream all you want… as loud as you want… there’s no one here to hear you.”
That makes him struggle even more in Aaron’s and Ray’s strong grips, but it’s futile. Both Aaron and Ray are strong guys, easily hold him despite his thrashing. Ray smirks, steps to one side, capturing Jared’s leg inside his own, stilling him completely before pressing close and whispering in Jared’s ear. “You really thought you could get away from us? You couldn’t get away in high school.”
Jeff rubs his fists slowly, carefully folds the fingers of his right hand in before looking at the fist he’s made. “You know…” He says thoughtfully, turning his hand, looking at the white tight of his knuckles… “I’ve always wanted to do this.” He says as he drills his fist into Jared’s midsection.
“Ooooof…” Is all we hear from Jared, the quick whoosh of air leaving his lungs, and Jeff is fast to follow up with a second punch, a third, and a fourth.
Jared looks to Eric and Pete, and to me, for help, his eyes silently pleading, ’please don’t let them do this’. But he gets no reprieve.
Jeff stops then, slowly lets his hands play at Jared’s belt, undoing it to allow Jared’s pants to fall to his ankles, effectively shackling them together. His hand finds Jared’s cock inside his briefs, worms its way down Jared’s briefs to roughly stroke him. “But you like it, Jared…” He hisses. “Look at yourself. You’re hard. This turns you on.”
“Queer.” Ray, from Jared’s right.
“Faggot.” Aaron, on his left.
One word each from either side of him, and as Aaron and Ray settle their stances, tighten their grip on his arms, both of them glance at each other and then at Jared. “Sicko…”
Jeff draws away, leaving a telltale bulge in Jared’s underwear. “It’s all true.” He says, makes his voice sound contrite even though there’s not a hint of contrition in the man, not for this. “And you see, Jared… we can’t have you ruining this man’s career.” He motions to me. “Jensen is going places. Look at him. All the women want him. All the men want to be him. He could get a job anywhere. We’re lucky to have him on Supernatural.”
I nod, hold out my arms and act embarrassed although I’m not.
Eric nods wholeheartedly, agreeing with Jeff before addressing Jared. “And you… you have to go ruining things. For everyone. You think the CW wants a gay man on its network? Imagine the publicity. Bad publicity.” Eric shakes his head. “You’re ruining the show, Jared. And ruining our careers-Jensen’s career-because now we’re-he is-associated with you. We can’t have that. Can’t allow that.”
Jared shakes his head frantically, his eyes light on me, and there’s begging in them. Pleading. But I’m only here to watch. I’m in my body, with a mind that’s not my own controlling me. I feel sick as my boots crunch across the floor, walking slowly, deliberately.
“Not true…” Jared whispers, but his voice is cracking. He’s starting to see his helplessness.
“But it is, Jared. Haven’t you noticed the ratings? Going down. And getting picked up by the CW for a second season? Only happened because we promised them we’d kill your character-Sam-off. They can’t have a homosexual actor on their network. It’d ruin them and they’re not even up and running yet.”
Jared shakes his head roughly, like if he shakes it enough he’ll wake up and find this was all a bad dream. “No…”
“Yes…” Eric’s voice lingers on the ‘s’, and he reaches to lift Jared’s face when his chin falls to his chest. His other hand snaps out and connects with Jared’s cheek, leaving a wide red mark that’s darker than the flush that rises on the other cheek. The slap was meant to humiliate, and it did, even moreso because Jared’s still hard inside his cotton briefs.
Eric directs the boys-Aaron, Ray and Pete-to get Jared outside. There’s rope. “String him up, boys.” He cackles evilly, and his words bring a new round of struggling from Jared, but he’s dragged outside kicking and screaming without managing to break free.
I walk with Eric and Jeff outside, and we share casual laughter about the future of the show, how much better it’ll be without Jared. It’s all business, of course, though none of us particularly want to work with him now that we know his sexual preferences. It’s nice when business works hand in hand with one’s personal desires and religious beliefs.
When we get outside, Jared’s on his knees in the mud, naked save his undershorts, which are sodden and clinging to his erection. I wonder how they’ve managed to make him stay hard, when there are bruises blooming on his chest and back, his midsection mostly, where I assume they’ve kicked him to get him to his knees, to stop fighting them. His arms are spread, bound at the wrists and held apart from his body. If he were standing, it would look as though he’d been crucified without the crucifix.
His head hangs low, waterlogged hair is plastered to his face, in his eyes, and he blinks, shakes his head to try and move them, but neither movement does any good.
Eric turns to me, dragging the tips of two bats through the mud behind him. He offers me one. “So how ‘bout it, Jensen?” He asks. “You want to tee it up?”
Inside, I’m screaming ‘no, no, no… you can’t… you can’t make me do this… you can’t make me hurt him’. But they can’t hear me. I can’t hear myself. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it when I rub my hands together and take the bat from Eric. I walk to stand in front of Jared, the bat hanging loosely from my left hand.
“You know, Eric…” It’s Jeff. “We should at least give him one last hurrah…” He rubs his jaw thoughtfully with thumb and forefinger. “I mean… after all… he is hard. And… as men we can have some compassion for that.” His voice is heartless innuendo.
Eric grins maliciously, and I find myself agreeing with Jeff. “It is somewhat... cruel of us… to leave him wanting like that, Eric.”
I want to claw at my insides, get out of myself. I want to run away with Jared so I know he’s safe, never let him get hurt again. This can’t be happening.
“So what about it, Pete?” Ray calls. “Your chance at a dream.”
And I know without really knowing. Pete’s bi. And he’s always wanted Jared. But maybe Jared wouldn’t give him the time of day. Or Jared was just attracted to someone else. I don’t know all the details, but I know… just know, that’s the gist of it.
Pete pushes off the wall of the cabin he’s leaning on with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his chinos. “I think I just might…” He swaggers down the steps of the porch into the rain, and over to where Jared’s tied, immobilized.
I watch in horror as Pete pulls his cock out and strokes it rapidly to hardness in front of Jared. Jared’s head is turned to one shoulder, eyes closed and a grimace that reveals teeth on his face when Pete roughly palms Jared’s balls through his undershorts, twists and yanks on Jared’s cock.
He tears the cotton from Jared’s body, leaving him naked in the rain, cock rigid and darker than the rest of his pale skin, glistening pre-cum and rain against his belly. There’s a glint of silver, and I know they’ve put a cock ring on him, to keep him hard, likely just to add insult to injury, to throw it in his face when the beating starts. The bruises hint it already has.
Pete presses up behind him, slides his hands onto Jared’s hips and digs his fingers deep, into the bone. “If you relax, the rain might just be enough lube for you… Know how you like taking it up the ass…” He drives balls-deep into Jared on the words ‘taking it up the ass’, pulls out slightly only to shove back in as he hisses, “…like taking it like the little bitch you are.”
Jared’s mouth is frozen in a silent scream, and the rain isn’t enough to hide his tears, nor is the thunder enough to drown out his sobs as Pete forces himself deeper and deeper into Jared’s most private of places. “How’s it feel to be my bitch, Padalecki?” He hisses.
Jared can’t answer except by a broken and choked sob.
When Pete pulls out, I can see shadows across his spent dick, and I know it’s blood by the way it washes away in the rain that still falls. Jared falls to his knees, bent forward at the waist, a shadow of what he is, what he was. He’s broken, defeated. There’s no fight left in him, and I want to cry at the strength it saps him of to stand-because somehow he manages to pull himself up, to his feet, to stand when I walk up to him again with the bat in hand.
He just looks at me sadly, with an acceptance in his eyes that tears me apart. He bows his head slowly, casts his eyes down.
“Jared…” He has to know this isn’t me. Has to know I’d never do this-what they’re asking-to him. But how can he? It’s me standing in front of him with a baseball bat in hand. It’s me who he sees… hears murmuring his name in falsely pleasant tones. But it’s not me. It’s a bitter version of me, a far more vengeful one, who just cares about himself, about furthering his career, doesn’t care who he hurts in the process, even if it’s someone like Jared.
Innocent, sweet Jared, who wouldn’t hurt a fly… who loves for the sake of love, regardless of color or creed or religion… or gender. I wish I could protect him, but I can’t. I can only watch, feel myself controlled by the evil, self-centered half of my brain. And suddenly I’m not in my body anymore-I’m watching from above, seeing everything in third person-watching myself. It’s like a movie.
I’m grateful that I’m not trapped-a prisoner in my own body-when he whispers so that no one can hear but me-the other me-“It’s okay… I forgive you, Jenny.”
But it’s not a kinder or a gentler fate when I watch the bat rise and fall… rise and fall. I swear I can hear his bones cracking, and his heart breaking.
“Just like high school… isn’t it, Jared…”
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