suffering soiree

“Yes, Sir,” his voice was nearly a whisper, and his breath caught in his throat when Jaxon started touching him again. He ran his hands up Jonah’s torso, before wrapping his fingers around Jonah’s neck and giving an experimental little squeeze. Jonah pleaded with his eyes for Jaxon to please not squeeze any tighter. He hated being choked. It reminded him of the way Carlisle would hold him down by the neck and squeeze his throat until he passed out, only to keep fucking him through his unconsciousness. When he finally decided to let go, Jonah would come slowly back to his surroundings, as if summoned from the throes of a nightmare, only to realize that he was still being pinned down and split open by his master. One nightmare for another. And Carlisle would do it again, and again, and again, thrusting Jonah in and out between realms until he couldn't form a single thought beyond ‘No, no, please— no—’

Perhaps Jaxon could see the panic in Jonah’s eyes, for his own gaze widened for just a split second before narrowing back into a nasty snicker. But Jaxon didn’t comment on it, and slid his hands down Jonah’s chest to tug at his nipples. 

“Aa—aah!” Jonah instantly tried to seal his lips shut the moment the sound was forced out, a fierce heat of embarrassment flushing his cheeks when he realized it had happened. He hadn’t meant to—he was always just so ridiculously sensitive there. Carlisle had taken advantage of it constantly. 

Jaxon let out a low chuckle, “My.. Sensitive little thing, aren’t you..” Another statement, phrased like a question. Jonah did not answer him this time, instead biting away at his lower lip to try and muffle any further sound that came out. 

Jaxon, as if taking it as a personal challenge, tugged and twisted sharply on both sides of his chest at once until Jonah’s back forcibly arched up into the motion and he cried out—tears welled up in his eyes at the sheer humiliation of it all. He did not want to be giving Jaxon what he wanted, but Jaxon’s thrilled expression told him that he—or rather, his body—was doing exactly that. 

Jonah let out pathetic, closed mouth whimpers as Jaxon continued his assault, raking nails down his scarred torso and tugging at the sensitive little buds on his chest. At some point, Jaxon’s hands had wound around Jonah’s throat again, and his body reacted automatically—he didn’t even think about it—his hands snapped up and he gripped Jaxon’s wrist, tugging at it to try and make him let go. 

“Please, Sir—” Jonah pleaded. “Please don’t—”

Jaxon cut him off with a fierce slap to the face with his other hand, and Jonah’s head snapped to the side. The force of the blow made his head spin—Jaxon had used the base of his palm for that, surely, for the pain of it reverberated through his cheekbone in a way that Jonah knew would leave a bruise. 

“You stupid fucking slut, don’t you dare try and stop me,” Jaxon spat venom down at Jonah, a previously unseen rage in his eyes. 

“That’s it, I won’t tolerate this,” Jaxon said decisively, before pushing up off of Jonah and climbing down off of the table.

For one brief, stupid moment, Jonah celebrated a small victory. He’d gotten Jaxon to stop.

He rode that high for a flash of a second, before his world came crashing down again when Jaxon reached for him once more and he felt himself being hauled over onto his front. 

“W-wait, Sir—” Jonah begged, no idea what was about to happen to him instead. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Sir, I won’t do it aga—”

“Shut up,” Jaxon growled, and Jonah’s blood ran cold when he felt Jaxon dragging his arms back behind him again.

Jonah tried to twist away—a stupid effort, really—for he paid for it instantly when Jaxon gripped his hair sharply and pulled back, forcing Jonah’s head to crane upwards painfully before Jaxon slammed his face back down into the table so hard Jonah saw stars. 

Jonah gasped at the shock of the impact, before Jaxon did it a second time, just for good measure. Sparks popped and danced in his vision, and Jonah moaned in pain against the wood. This had happened to him far too many times today—at this rate, he’d be well concussed before sundown. 

Jaxon slid his belt—Italian leather—off in one swift motion, making quick work of restraining the boy’s hands behind him. Jonah was still dazed, swimming in the sea of stars that flickered behind his eyelids, and he barely even registered what was happening before he felt a grip at his shoulder and realized he was being rolled back onto his front again.

He panted for air, still trying to recover from the pounding agony in his head, while Jaxon climbed back on top of him and gripped his hair in a fist. Jaxon leaned down to study Jonah’s face. The boy’s eyes were lidded and unfocused now, his lips were parted and wet with what was probably drool. He looked dizzy and pained and so fucking out of it—it was a beautiful sight in Jaxon’s eyes. 

Jaxon took advantage of the slave’s parted lips, lifting his other hand to shove two fingers into the boy’s panting mouth. Jonah’s eyes went wide with shock at the intrusion, and he almost bit down on instinct before his mind caught up with him and forced him to accept it without resistance. Don’t make it worse don’t make it worse don’t make it worse—

Jaxon slid his digits across Jonah’s teeth, along his tongue, giving the muscle a firm tug and pulling an embarrassing cry of pain from Jonah’s throat. Jaxon snickered, all too pleased with himself, and he drove his fingers in further to force them into the back of the boy’s throat. 

Jonah gagged harshly as Jaxon jabbed the back of his throat with his fingertips, causing the muscles within to spasm around the intrusion. Jonah twisted in his bindings, begging with choked gagging noises and tearful eyes for Jaxon to fucking stop already. He’d beg with words if he could—oh, he would beg so, so well—but there was nothing he could do but twitch against the belt and writhe beneath Jaxon’s hips as his mouth was invaded. 

Jonah, to his horror, could feel Jaxon stiffening over him. The gap between their hips was closing rapidly as Jaxon grew harder in his trousers until the shape of it was pressing down into Jonah’s pelvis.

“Oh, yeahh,” Jaxon nearly moaned. “I bet your throat would feel reeally nice..” 

Jonah’s eyes shot wide open, his chest spiking with dread. He tried to shake his head, whining out some desperate sound that might have meant “Stop,” or “Please don’t,” had he been able to speak. Jaxon simply ignored him, relishing in the fun he was having playing with the little slave boy’s mouth.

After what felt like a lifetime, Jaxon finally pulled his fingers from Jonah’s mouth, and Jonah panted hard as a string of drool stretched from his glistening lips to Jaxon’s now dripping fingers. Jonah closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recover. It was over. He’d endured it, and now it was over. 

Jonah tried to comfort himself with the thought, but his shred of hope was ripped away suddenly when he heard Jaxon’s zipper coming undone. Jonah’s eyes shot open in panic. Shit—he was really about to—

“No! Sir, please don’t— Please! I’ll, I’ll be good just, just please—”

“Oh, fucking relax,” Jaxon snapped, bringing his saliva-slicked fingers to his waist to wrap around his now exposed length. Jaxon groaned when his hand slid down, slickening the surface with Jonah’s drool, before sliding up again, causing Jaxon’s hips to twitch forward in pleasure as he chased it. 

Jonah was whimpering now, not sure what was about to happen, but sure it was absolutely nothing that would let him ‘fucking relax.’

“C’mon pup, don’t give me that look,” Jaxon had a smug, almost blissful smile back on his face. His eyes looked just a bit more lidded than usual now as he stroked himself against Jonah’s bare stomach. 

“It’s a real fucking shame you know,” Jaxon panted, “but I’m not going to fuck you, pet. At least, not today.” 

Jonah blinked up at him, not even sure if he believed him.

Jaxon chuckled at Jonah’s incredulous expression. “See, it's an awful shame, puppy, but we’re not allowed to shove into your pretty holes until the Captain has claimed you first.”

Jonah should have been relieved to hear it, that Jaxon wouldn’t fuck him like this—right there on the table, with Sawyer kneeling on the floor in the very same room. But Jonah felt a spike of horror instead at Jaxon’s words, for it meant his worst fears were confirmed—what the Captain would do to him—what he was there for—the real reason he’d been taken captive.

Jaxon just continued his musings like it was nothing. “But, I suppose I'll have to make do like this.. And besides, you’re so pretty when you’re in pain. I trust you’ll make those gorgeous noises for me until you get me off, yeah?” 

Jonah was trying and failing to hold back his tears. “P-please, Sir, just let me up— Please I, I want to be good, I don’t want to— I don’t want to— to do this— please, Sir—“ 

Jonah was cut off when Jaxon brought his free hand down hard on the side of Jonah’s face. He hit the boy savagely, once—twice—a third time—and Jonah cried out in pain and choked out a sob as his face was assaulted. Jaxon’s other hand never stopped stroking himself. His hips were twitching faster—he was getting closer now.

“Try again, puppy!” Jaxon called, projecting his voice so it boomed throughout the room. 

“AahHH—! I’m sorry I’m sorry!! I’msorry Sir!!” Jonah cried, sobbing through his words, desperate for the pain to stop. 

At last, Jaxon finally stopped hitting him, letting his hand hover in the air above Jonah’s face, poised to slap him again. 

“You gonna be good for me, then?” Jaxon challenged, daring Jonah to fuck this up again and give him another excuse to brutalize the boy. 

“Yes, Sir!” Jonah cried. “Yes Sir, Yes Sir!! Be good! I’ll— I’ll be, be good S-sir!” Jonah was fully sobbing now, as Jaxon’s free hand gripped his sore face and squeezed his cheeks harshly. Tears spilled down his cheeks and ran onto Jaxon’s fingers. 

Jaxon lifted his hand to lap at the tears on his own skin, before cracking a cruel smile and leaning down. Jaxon let his tongue slip out from between his lips and he slowly lapped at the fresh tear streaks that cascaded down Jonah’s reddened face. Jonah shuddered at the feeling of the man’s tongue on his face—as if this couldn’t get any more invasive and humiliating—

Then, to his horror, Jaxon’s free hand was back around his throat, squeezing tighter than before, and Jonah twisted around in vain, his arms still tied uselessly behind him. He gagged and spluttered against Jaxon’s fierce grip, until Jaxon’s fingers tightened even further and cut off Jonah’s breath entirely. At that point, the boy went silent, thrashing in Jaxon’s grip.

Sawyer hadn’t uttered a word this entire time, perhaps out of fear of facing the same treatment—and the only sounds left in the room were the wet sounds of Jaxon fucking into his own hand and his heavy shuddering breath as he lost himself in his own pleasure. 

“Fuck—I’m so close, puppy,” Jaxon panted. “Should I let you have some air?” 

In his rational mind, Jonah would probably rather be unconscious for this, but the process of getting there hurt so fucking much—every fiber of his being was screaming for air. Jonah opened his teary red eyes and pleaded wordlessly with his expression. 

Jaxon squeezed his throat a few moments longer, just to savor it, and when he saw Jonah’s eyes rolling back, his lips turning blue, Jaxon knew the boy was on the brink of unconsciousness—right about to pass out. Then, he finally released him, just seconds before the boy slipped beneath the waves.

The moment Jaxon let go, Jonah was gasping furiously, his lungs burning and straining to draw in as much air as possible. His neck throbbed as Jaxon drew his hand away, and Jonah heaved fresh sobs in its blessed absence. Perhaps it was the way Jonah sounded right then, or perhaps the way he looked up at Jaxon as he desperately cried and gasped for air, but it was all too much for Jaxon—he was losing it—it was driving him over the edge and—

Jaxon squeezed his eyes shut and let out a guttural moan, biting down on his lip and riding out his orgasm as he spilled hot ropes all over Jonah’s bare stomach and chest. Jonah sobbed harder when he felt the warm substance splash over his skin, and the sight of him like that made Jaxon thrust faster into his hand, painting white ribbons over the boy’s scarred flesh. 

Slowly, Jaxon’s breath slowed to deep, heavy exhales, and he chuckled with satisfaction at the way Jonah had come undone with horror and humiliation. 

“Good job, puppy,” Jaxon panted over him and smiled, still a little breathless as he came down from his high. “God, you made me feel so good, and I didn’t even have to fuck you for that. Imagine how much fun it’ll be next time when I take you properly.”

It was a praise Jonah didn’t want. A promise he dreaded. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this. Jaxon hadn’t even fucked him, but Jonah still felt disgusting and awful and used. He thought of Carlisle. He didn’t want to think about Carlisle. 

Jonah squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to look at Jaxon anymore. He’d love to never have to see this man again for the rest of his life. He knew he wouldn’t get that wish. 

Jonah felt the smallest tinge of relief when he heard Jaxon’s zipper slide back up and felt the man climb off of him. He kept his eyes shut, wishing he didn’t have skin at all so he wouldn’t have to feel it— until he felt a cool rag being dragged down his now sticky torso.

He flickered his eyes open again. Jaxon was cleaning him off. Jaxon must have seen the brief flicker of unconscious gratitude in Jonah’s eyes, for he let out an amused little hum in the boy’s direction. 

“Well, yeah,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I wasn’t just gonna leave you like that.”

Jonah said nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. His throat felt raw. He really was grateful he at least got somewhat cleaned up afterwards, although he didn’t feel Jaxon deserved to hear his thanks. He wouldn’t say it unless the man made him. 

Just then, Jaxon looked down at him, as if reading his mind. “What do you say, puppy?” 

Jonah sniffed, trying not to sob again. He knew his lines. He didn’t want to drag this out. He just wanted it to be over. 

“Th-thank, thank you, S-sir,” he whimpered. And Jaxon gave a hum in approval. 

“Good boy,” the blonde man said, turning to discard the dirty rag into the bucket on the floor. 

With his skin wiped as clean as it could get for now, Jonah felt himself being rolled over onto his side. Jaxon worked at the belt that bound his wrists behind him, and Jonah felt a pang of horror hit his chest when he spotted the mop of tousled black hair, still kneeling on the floor. Sawyer had been in the room the whole time. He’d been so quiet, Jonah had nearly forgotten. He felt another sob rise up his throat at the sheer humiliation that Sawyer, of all people, had just heard everything. He held his breath, trying to swallow it down as Jaxon finally pulled the belt free and released his wrists. 

Sawyer didn’t even look up, seemingly keen on staring down at some particular spot on the floor. He’d stopped scrubbing long ago, but hadn’t uttered a word, hadn’t made a sound, throughout Jaxon’s ‘private time’ with Jonah. Jonah supposed that made sense, if Sawyer didn’t want to bring that attention upon himself. Jonah supposed he probably got plenty of it—despite his clear lack of brain cells, Sawyer was quite good-looking. Jonah would never tell him that, of course, but he could reason that Sawyer was probably not starved for this particular type of attention aboard the vessel. Despite the fact that Sawyer seemed to be practically begging for a beating with every word out of his mouth, it made sense that he’d not be in the business of purposefully inviting more of this particular type of punishment. 

“Mutt,” Jaxon hissed, and when Sawyer finally looked up, Jonah could see that the young man’s face was beet red. 

“You fucking missed a spot.”

Sawyer, to Jonah’s surprise, didn’t bark out some sarcastic retort, he just resignedly crawled over to where Jaxon pointed and worked at the spot on the floor with the rag in his hand. Jonah did hear him mumbling under his breath, however—he caught the word ‘bastard’ somewhere in there.

Jonah just lay there on the table for a few moments, trying to get his head to stop fucking spinning. He knew he’d have finger-shaped bruises darkening around his neck by morning, if not even sooner.

Just then, as the silence hung in the air between the three men, there was a sudden thumping at the door. Jonah startled out of his daze, snapping up into a sitting position before instantly regretting it when a wave of vertigo caused the whole room to spin around him.

“Aye?” He heard Jaxon call out, and the door slid open to reveal Crowe’s sharp features. 

“I’m here for the boy,” Crowe said curtly. “Captain’s orders. He wants him ready for tonight.”

“He’s all yours,” said Jaxon, almost too casually, like what had just taken place was all just some horrible waking nightmare conjured up by Jonah’s overactive imagination.

“Wonderful,” said Crowe flatly, and the man stepped into the room towards the wooden table. He reached out and gripped Jonah’s arm. Jonah flinched back when he saw the hand coming for him, but didn’t pull away when Crowe’s fingers encircled his bicep and tugged him off the surface. 

He followed the motion as Crowe steered him out of the room, though his steps felt weak and awkward in the shackles. He was glad to be away from Jaxon, at least for now, and hoped whatever would happen to him next wouldn’t be worse. Though he did not like the implications of “the Captain” and “tonight.” 

As he was pushed through the wooden corridors, he tried not to think about it, and instead, he thought of Sawyer. Sawyer, who had been left behind, kneeling on the floor, in the room with that man, to be subjected to some unknown fate. Jonah hoped that Jaxon wouldn’t repeat his actions on Sawyer. He hoped Sawyer would keep his mouth shut for once, for his own good. He hoped they'd both make it through the night in one relative piece, without any more torture, if that was even possible for someone with a mouth like Sawyer’s.

Jonah wished he truly believed in God. 

It would be nice to pray to something that would actually listen. 

༻✦༺

Thanks for reading! More coming soon…

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