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It had been a long day, and of course, it was absolutely pissing it down. Sebastian forced himself backwards through the corner shop’s door as he roughly shook out his shoddy umbrella. The door’s bell chimed as he came tumbling in, soaked to the bone, hair slick against his forehead. His forest green hoodie hung from him like some kind of medieval robe, holding more water than Sebastian thought possible. He’d already spent the entire walk from work cursing himself for not checking the weather and bringing a coat.
It took him a good few seconds to adjust to the abrupt cessation of the blasting of rain. He blinked at the sterile overhead lights, briefly overwhelmed by the immediate warmth of the stagnant air, before carrying on, lugging himself through the shop, sighing as his skin began to slowly dry in the stagnant air. He snatched up a curly wurly and a can of coke, bringing them up to the counter. He intended to grab a pack of fags while he was there - he knew it was stupid, but Jesus, he needed it.
As he brought his distant gaze up to meet the clerk’s and give them an awkward nod, he froze. On the other side of the counter, bouncing their leg and gripping their phone, sat before him - his ex boyfriend. Their eyes locked.
They stared at each other in a silence filled only with tinny muzak, the tapping of rain outside, and the buzzing of the slushy machine.
“Hi… Seb…”
“Hiya.”
‘Hiya’? Really?
Tom shifted uncomfortably on his stool, his zip-up hoodie hanging open to reveal a graphic tee gracefully adorned with the words ‘FUCK YOU’ in Metallica font.
Seb dropped the curly wurly and the can of coke can on the counter. He had placed the can on its side. It started rolling towards Tom. He caught it, and rammed it into the countertop right-way up.
“Uh. So just these then?”
Seb nodded. He forgot about the fags. He’d almost hoped they could pretend they didn’t know each other, but his own name being the second thing out of Tom’s mouth set the painful awkwardness of the encounter in solid stone.
Tom scanned the can of coke, then the curly wurly.
”D’you not want a pack of fags, then?”
Sebastian’s stomach dropped. He made a vaguely confused noise, dragging the wet hair across his forehead with a clammy finger.
”Uh, yeah, actually.” A mildly amused exhale escaped him.
”Yeah it’s just… You always get fags with a curly wurly.”
Tom creaked up from his stool to search the shelves behind him. He didn’t bother checking for ID of course, despite Seb looking well under 25. Seb shuffled his foot. His trainer squeaked against the floor. He felt a warmth fan over his face, almost like he was blushing. It made him squirm - that Tom would remember that about him. It’d only been a couple of months, but still. It felt like Tom still cared. Sebastian wasn’t really sure what to do about that.
”So, how’s Angus?” Tom offered, rummaging in the shelves still.
It was like an anvil descended upon Sebastian’s stomach. He felt some colour drain from his face, completely taken aback by the audacity. Though come to think of it, Tom had always been a prick, enough to bring up something like this in such an inappropriate setting.
Sebastian wanted to answer, but he kept not answering. Eventually, Tom brought down a pack from the shelf, returning to the counter with a certain intentionality. He held the pack, not yet placing down, keeping it in his grasp for just a little longer. His eyes bore into Seb with a poorly disguised sarcastic rage.
”Is he alright then? Still enjoying you?”
”Fucking hell.” Seb blurted. It felt like a relief to cut into the tension like that, though it would certainly escalate things.
Tom laughed, his shoulders hunching as he feigned a containment of his amusement. He put the fags down before resting his hands flat on the counter, his poise steadfast, almost sinister as he loomed over the goods between them.
”What?” Tom eventually said, vaguely tauntingly.
Seb was smiling, against his will, a sort of natural reaction to the intense awkwardness. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what would come out.
”Uh -”
”D’you two still talk shit about me? Do you two have a - a fucking giggle while talking about how much of a prick I am?”
”N-”
”Nah mate, FUCK you. Genuinely, FUCK YOU.” Tom emphasised his words with shocked movements of his head. His face grew red and hot, almost swollen, as he spat the words at Seb. Seb flinched hard with every movement and sound that Tom made. Something rooted him to the ground as Tom slammed the counter with his hands and started marching around it to meet him.
Seb thought he’d run away, he thought he’d scream, but he was cold as a statue as Tom got right up into his face. A drop of rain rolled from his hair down his forehead, and dripped off the end of his nose as the pair of them stared into each other. Tom was shorter than him, but far bulkier than him, and far, far angrier.
They shared in something hot and electric, holding the air around them captive, as if at any moment lightning could strike that intimate space between them.
Just at that perfect second, Tom slapped Seb across his face. Stinging pain blossomed across his jaw in a large pink mark, strangling the side of his head. Outrage and panic hot as lava rushed through his veins as he returned to look at Tom, completely astonished, tears bursting around his wide open eyes. He drew in a shuddered breath; he had never been slapped before. Tom was pursing his lips, watching every inch of pain sink into Seb, utterly captivated.
Like an animal, Seb exploded, his body moving for him. He snapped to shove Tom away, but Tom snatched him back. They violently struggled, pulling at the loose folds of each other’s clothes, trying to rip something away, trying to punch something, trying to get back at the fucking monsters in front of them. But Tom had a hold of Seb’s shoulders, Tom had his leg shoving Seb into the counter, Tom was wrangling Seb, bending him over the countertop, clamping down on him in a headlock, forcing lips right up to Seb’s ear. Tom smelt the rain on him. Seb was pushing and pulling icy breaths through clenched teeth.
”Sh - shut the fuck up, Seb, SHUT THE FUCK UP. SHUT UP.” He screamed across Seb’s ear, spittle falling on Seb’s cheek. Seb found himself sobbing. He had tried to fight back, he had struggled, but now he was prey folded over, his curly wurly staring him down right in front of his nose.
Tom put his entire weight through Seb’s skull, rolling Seb’s temple against the counter with immense pressure. It made Seb’s head ring with pain. Seb’s sobs turned into panicked open-mouthed yelling.
”You think you’re so fucking great,” He seethed through his words, his warm breaths ragged and incensed. “SHUT UP. You - think you’re fucking brilliant, fucking me over when I was at rock fucking bottom. Fuck you.” He was almost laughing.
Seb thought he might die, trying to reel in his primal screams to not further enrage the predator pinning him down. His breathing had turned into blubbered sobs, blood vessels bursting in his immovable head. He tried to kick his legs, to stand up, but Tom’s unbearable weight made it woefully impossible. He wanted out, he needed out, but no amount of desperate wishing would free him.
Just then, the horrifying sound of a belt unbuckling greeted Seb’s affrighted ears. A new layer of panic set in, one that racked his entire body with a form of terror unlocked only by his worst nightmares.
”No - no NO NO no fuck, Tom, shi-h-it,” Seb sobbed through his words. He jolted his entire body, straining his legs and neck, flailing his arms around in any direction they would go. His cheeks burned red, his eyes searched for a way out but could find only lottery tickets and packets of gum lined up on little shelves above him, the peeling stickers on the side of the till, the slushy machine still leisurely churning away next to the ice cream fridge.
Tom didn’t even say anything, he didn’t try to justify it. He didn’t warn his victim when he started clawing at Seb’s rain-soaked jeans, ripping open the zip at the front, wrenching them down his hips inch by inch, until Seb’s briefs were the only layer between Tom and his bare arse.
The waistline of his jeans bound his legs together at the thigh. Underneath him - despite the nightmare, despite the abhorrent terror gripping every blood vessel in his body - a gentle slick had started to form a little wet spot in the fabric between his folds. A part of him throbbed down there.
Without warning, Tom shoved a thick finger up underneath Seb’s clothed pussy, pressing the wet spot up into him, rubbing him through his pants.
”Fuck, you’re actually wet for me. Christ,” He sneered, snaking his fingers back and forth along Seb’s cunt. “Do you get this wet for Angus? Too bad he’s not here, mate. Wish I could fuck him like this too, but he wouldn’t let me.”
Seb fiercely resented the implication that he was letting this happen. He struggled harder, blinking tears away from his eyes, clenching his jaw as Tom held him down. Tom’s thick fingers pressed up into Seb harder, roughly massaging his clit through his wet pants.
”You like it, yeah? You fucking like it?” Tom slurred breathlessly. Before Seb could object, Tom roughly tore Seb’s pants down, strings of slick separating as the fabric pulled away from the wet folds, exposing Seb’s bare and shaking arse. A broken noise escaped him.
”P - please…”
”Shut up,” Tom began prising his engorged cock out from his own trousers. “You owe me this, twat. You fucking owe me this.”
He unceremoniously wedged his cock between Seb’s buttocks, guiding it through until it nudged up against the slick coating Seb’s cunt. He adjusted until the tip of his cock wormed just partway into Seb, tasting him. Tom practically melted at the warmth he discovered.
”Jesus, I’ve missed your pussy, Seb. I’ve missed it so much.”
”Please… I’m - I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Tom, shit, I’m so sorry…” Seb had become a blubbering mess, hyperventilating between words, his voice hoarse from crying. Clenching his pussy tight, squirming, trying to shy away from the invasion, he continued;
“I know I fucked up, I shouldn’t -” His voice cracked. “I shouldn’t have done it, I’m so sorry…”
Tom gathered snakes of Seb’s wet hair from his neck, pushing them over to one side, leaning in closer.
”You’re taking the piss if you think for one second I’m gonna fucking believe that, mate. You’re not sorry. You were never sorry. Now shut up and - take me…”
At that moment, with a lascivious grunt, Tom drove his hips forwards, the full length of his cock slipping past the folds and sinking in, Seb felt his cunt yield until the hard cock was buried to the hilt, his walls instinctively fluttering to accommodate the unwelcome stretch.
”Shh-it, you’re tight, Seb - tighter than I remember.”
The rain continued to fall outside. The lights buzzed, the till beeped every now and then. Public life continued to threaten witness while Seb’s cunt made room for the obscene invasion. To Seb’s utter horror, Tom began thrusting, his blunt length tugging back and forth between Seb’s burning walls. Fresh waves of pain shocked his limbs into spasmic jolts. The items on the counter before him became hazy blurs. The tinny muzak could still be heard accompanying Tom’s rough grunts, the dull slap of each snap of his hips, the ragged sobs escaping Seb.
Tom clamped down on the small of Seb’s back, fucking him in tiny, greedy ruts like his own personal cocksleeve. Seb instinctively squeezed his thighs tighter - it might push him out - but Tom only responded with more gratified moans. Each sliding motion of his cock past Seb’s folds elicited a wet sound that could just be heard over the furious rustling of their clothes.
”Fuck… Does Angus fuck you like this? God, you're such a fucking slut… So wet for me…"
Seb’s eyes glassed over, his head spinning as he began to lose feeling in his extremities, his world shrinking down to the stretch and punch of Tom’s cock inside him. In a desperate attempt to make it all stop, he tried to mold his shaky breaths into audible words.
”I'm… S-orry… Please… I'm sorry…”
Tom’s strokes faltered for just a moment. Seb felt an ephemeral glimmer of hope appear inside of him, but before he could fully realise it, Tom leaned over and crammed his thick arm around Seb’s neck. Suddenly, the thrusts became lustfully furious, short and brutal, charged with an agonising rage that bruised Seb’s cervix. Seb yelled hopelessly, the sound choked underneath the girth of Tom’s arm.
”This is what you deserve, you fucking slag,” Tom’s words were ragged, dripping with venom. “This… is what you fucking deserve... Take it.”
Every curt thrust of Tom’s hips drove his arm further back into Seb’s neck, craning his head to blind him with the fluorescent lights overhead. Humiliatingly, his mouth hung open, gulping down wads of warm air when he could. His fingers and toes spread as his entire body was arched into the relentless force. Tears streamed down his face as paralysing sparks of pain cracked up and down his spine, and yet, a part of him responded to the sick pleasure in the punishment, with wave after wave of glistening slick gushing from his cunt, painting the edge of the counter beneath.
Tom released foggy moans around Seb’s ear, each sound more enamoured and vengeful than the last, laced with a regretful twist of hatred and love. Each spiteful rut punched harder, clenched tighter, chasing pressure in an endless bid. Seb didn't know he was capable of such violent trembling. Tom was going to finish inside him, bent like a sex toy over the counter of a corner shop.
Seb mourned his lack of defence, how his body held like a ragdoll in Tom’s tightening grip. He was already imagining the cum gushing up inside of him, claiming him, painting his walls and spilling out of his engorged folds. Part of him yearned for it, begged for the release.
A stuttered grunt escaped Tom. He slammed into Seb with a punishing finality. But he did not finish. He shakily withdrew, dragging floods of slick from Seb’s raw cunt until only the tip of his throbbing cock was still making contact with Seb’s folds. Seb’s walls clenched and released against the emptiness in a mix of frustration and relief.
”Fuck!” he shouted. “Ah, fucking hell, you almost made me cum, you fucking whore.”
He released Seb from the iron grip of his arm. Seb collapsed into the counter, wheezing and sobbing. His red cunt stung, wet and cold against the air, as he torturously regained his breath. Tom panted, backing away from the tantalising edge.
For several moments they recovered, letting their laboured breathing accompany the patter of the rain outside. Tom was no longer holding him, instead having retrieved his phone from his pocket, unbeknownst to Seb, who had succumbed to delirium.
Eventually, Tom returned his hand to the small of Seb's back, massaging the thick damp fabric of Seb’s hoodie.
”I've got a surprise for you, mate,” A throb of dread cut through Seb’s weariness. “You remember Vish?”
He flashed his phone in front of Seb’s sweating face. Through blurry tears, Seb briefly caught sight of Vish’s name at the top of the screen, followed by a series of short chat bubbles, before the phone was whipped away.
”He's slow as fuck but he's just round the corner. Texted Gavvy as well but he's gone out with Iona tonight,” he laughed. ”She's such a bitch. I told him you'd be a much tighter hole than her but he only wants girl pussy tonight, pink-nosed bastard.”
While Tom continued tapping idly at his phone, Seb’s mind churned over the words, barely registering them at first, making an effort to filter out the bollocks and alert himself to what mattered. Vish was coming.
What Seb intended to be clear speech ended up as a hoarse whimper as he ventured to attain any explanation for Vish’s imminent arrival.
”W-hy…?”
Tom snorted.
”Are you thick? Why dyou think?”
Without missing a beat, Tom clasped into Seb’s clothes and yanked him up from the counter, swinging him around like dead weight, smacking his thigh into a low metal shelf as Tom wrenched him round to be behind the counter with him. He gave the stool a hard kick, and it wheeled away to make room for the pair of them, intimately positioned behind the till this time.
Sebastian barely made noise except to suck in a breath when he hit his thigh. He let Tom manhandle him, too tired to fight back, drained and numb. Tom made sure he was facing him this time, Seb's clit fully exposed and glistening in the light.
Their eyes met. For a moment, Seb could sense a flicker of frustrated embarrassment from Tom, almost a blush. It soured into lust as his eyes fell on Seb’s concealed chest. He snaked his hands underneath, searching for and splaying out over Seb’s nipples possessively. Seb writhed, but hesitated to stop him, as Tom bunched up the hoodie and shirt to expose the bare chest.
His thumbs brushed gently along Seb’s scars, tracing over them with an unexpected tenderness, an instinct from softer days. He gazed at Seb’s taut body while cupping his ribs, marvelling at Seb’s red and tear-stained face.
”... So pretty for me…” He mumbled.
After a moment, he plunged his lips down onto Seb’s nipple, dragging a fat and lustful tongue over it in lascivious circles. He sucked and pushed, moaning into Seb’s chest. Seb arched his back, withstanding the sudden tingling pain as Tom sucked and licked.
Tom’s exploring slowly descended down Seb’s chest and along his belly until he reached the crown of Seb’s cunt. As Tom’s lips sealed around the engorged clit, Seb let out a moan. But it wasn't pain, it wasn't anguish - it was a sick and helpless pleasure.
Seb squirmed as Tom worked into the wet folds, coating his tongue in Seb’s slick and digging his nails into Seb's back. An overwhelming heat swelled in the pit of Seb’s abdomen, threatening pleasure as his stomach began to shudder and his breath began to hitch. He didn't say anything, but he found himself taking hold of Tom’s blond, buzzed head - resisting the sickening urge to push his mouth further into his cunt. Every swirl, every drag pushed him closer to an edge he didn't want to be anywhere near.
Just then, Tom’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He displayed a subtle reluctance when he withdrew from Seb, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before retrieving his phone. He took one look at it, then craned his head to look over Seb's shoulder at the door of the shop.
”Yeah mate, come in!”
The bell on the door chimed as Vish pushed his way through, rustling his black puffy coat. Seb was too petrified to turn and look; he was busy closing his eyes and wishing himself into an untimely death.
”Hiya mate, y’alright?” Tom smirked.
”Yeah, man, not too bad.” He didn't say much, the frenzied excitement of a kid hiding behind a naturally placid disposition. He shook off his coat and swanned around the counter, taking in the inviting sight of Seb. Vish was notably tall, downturned eyes, his hair a curly mess flopped over his forehead. Tom exchanged a salacious look with him.
”He's all yours.” Tom sighed amusedly, not bothering to conceal his smile. “He likes fucking other men.”
That last comment felt forced, having been repeated from a text he sent Vish earlier. But Tom wanted Seb to hear it. He wanted Seb to understand that his punishment fit the crime.
Vish laid eyes upon Seb - his bare, heaving chest; his scars; his hard, flushed nipple; and the twinkling slick leaking from his bruised cunt - all of it framed by crudely bunched up clothes. Seb crossed his thighs over each other, tears welling up as it all sank in. He’d ‘met’ Vish before, in Tom's flat. The large group of men had stayed up late to watch the game, shouting and sloshing beer onto the carpet. Seb had indignantly excused himself to the toilet, fed-up with the noise. He’d sat on the closed toilet lid and texted Angus that night.
The regret infected him, paralysed his limbs, and all he could do was sob. He averted his cloudy eyes, humiliated, part of him hoping that if he didn't look, it wouldn't be real, Vish wouldn't be staring him down like a piece of meat.
Vish didn't take long to respond to the invitation, already visibly erect under his damp joggers. He pushed a steady hand between Seb’s thighs to part them. A choked “no” escaped Seb, but Vish was already lowering his joggers and pants, drawing his cock out, and without a second thought he plunged it into Seb, hard.
Seb yelped, nearly swearing under his breath as the mess between his legs was forcefully filled once again. He looked down and watched his folds stretch to accommodate the intrusion. Vish watched, too, keenly driving his hips forward until his cock was entirely swallowed up. He started working Seb with long, deliberate strokes, letting his length explore every inch of Seb's spasming hole.
There was no anger, there was no spite - only the silent, gratifying eases of his cock in and out of Seb, punctuated only by shallow breaths and Seb’s wincing. Vish appeared barely aroused, his face retaining a nonchalant neutrality as he fucked him.
Tom had fully removed his trousers, standing half naked on his burly legs. Watching Vish’s low, dispassionate thrusts, he began pumping his own cock, thumbing the head of it with short, rhythmic rubs. He rested his free hand on the counter beside Seb.
”Enjoying it?” Tom asserted. “You like another man's cock inside you, don't you.”
Seb's mind was swimming, he was barely possessing his own body. With every surge of Vish's cock, the dull and relentless pain grew more unbearable. But he could do nothing except stand there and take it. He wanted to scream, but only sobs came out. He wanted to fight back, to rip Vish off him and hit him as hard as he could - but he only trembled and sighed shuddery breaths.
Vish’s pace gradually quickened until it nearly matched what Tom's had been. Seb briefly met Tom's gaze, glancing down at Tom's cock while Vish continued snapping back and forth inside him. Tom breathily smiled.
”Ugh… I've wanked to this before… Imagined it,” Tom massaged the head of his cock, grinning. “Never thought I'd get to actually see something like this.”
Without warning, Vish took his hands up under Seb's legs, lifting him with ease and letting his cold arse slam down on top of the counter. The can of coke smacked onto the floor, rolling underneath a dusty shelf. Vish kept one of Seb's legs bent up in the air, and continued to fuck him. The new angle let Vish's cock surge into that perfect, tender spot inside him, splitting him open and nudging up against his womb. Seb wailed, his thighs shaking violently through each thrust.
”Fuck…” Tom moaned, as if he was the one with his cock inside Seb.
Vish’s thrusts grew more urgent. His forehead brimmed with sweat, his hands were clenching harder into Seb's legs. The obscene, wet sounds between them grew harsher. Vish threw a strained look over at Tom, as if asking for permission.
”Fuck it, go ahead mate, please.”
Just then, it sunk in for Seb that Vish was going to finish, and this time, he wouldn't pull out and hold back. Panic shocked his blood. His entire body suddenly began to scream in unison for it to stop. His broken whimpers became hysterical cries.
But it was too late. With final staggered thrusts, Vish buried deep into him and came.
Heat, then wetness, took root in Seb as Vish shot rope after rope of cum deep into him. Vish's cock throbbed with every jet, pulsing through the climax - Seb could feel every twitch. Seb continued to tremble, milking the load from this stranger until it filled him, claimed him, painted his walls with spend and marked him as the greedy whore he was.
Vish had fucked him silently up until this point, but now, Seb could hear him grunting softly as he buried his seed.
After what felt like an eternity of sitting in Vish's spend, Vish withdrew his cock, guiding it out with a steady hand. Seb felt every inch tugging at the slick and spend that filled his cunt. The head of his cock emerged from Seb with a dull wet pop. Vish let out a low moan.
”Fuck, bet that felt good,” Tom grunted. “Breeding him like that.” Vish nodded, slightly breathless.
Seb sat there like a doll, heaving nauseated breaths through the pain and shock. It began to sink in - a sinister anxiety knotting in his stomach. He was claimed, bred. He didn't feel like a person any more.
Vish stepped away as Tom admired his victim. For a brief moment, Tom watched the cum seeded inside Seb - the milky white spend peeking out between wet folds. He continued wanking his cock.
Then, with a desperate, hungry groan, he guided his weeping cock towards Seb’s cunt once again. A globule of Vish's heavy cum rolled out of those slick folds. Tom caught it with the fat head of his dick, paused to let it spread, before sinking in, pushing Vish's cum back into Seb with a satisfied moan.
Seb tensed as he felt Tom's familiar cock taking root in him once again. It slid into him more easily now, coated with cum, gliding back and forth with slow, intentional strokes.
”Fucking hell… So wet…”
Tom winced in pleasure as the warm mess swallowed his cock. With each punishing jab he forced Vish’s cum deeper inside of Seb, working it into his cervix. Eventually it began leaking out from between them in thick spurts, splattering onto the countertop with vulgar wet sounds. Tom threaded fingers through Seb’s hair, forcing him to crane his neck down and watch his cunt giving way as Tom bred him with another man’s cum.
”Y - yeah? You like it?” Tom breathed. “Fucking slag, you f - fucking love to be bred… bred so deep.”
Seb’s eyes glazed over with tears as he watched Tom’s dick jetting in and out of him. He was barely in the room, a ragdoll, a sex toy - completely numb. And yet, he felt every torturous inch, every drop of cum that spilled out of him, every breath Tom took, in agonising detail. His limp inaction felt like an acceptance, a submission. Even though he knew this was so, so wrong - what he did was wrong as well. Maybe this was what he deserved. Maybe this was what he had earned.
Just at that moment, the door’s bell chimed.
Seb was suddenly back in his body, shocked into a primal panic. He wrenched his head around through Tom’s grip. Cramming himself into the shop was a young bloke, timid-looking and unphased, until he laid eyes upon the scene unfolded at the counter. He froze.
Tom’s thrusts faltered. Vish looked up from his phone.
Seb’s face resorted to a wordless beg as the man stood there, frozen in shock. For a moment, Seb thought he would be saved. For a moment, Seb envisioned the man scaring Tom and Vish away, making it all stop, impossibly undoing the damage. Seb was overwhelmingly grateful that the man had chosen to walk into this shop at this time, rather than not. He just wished he had not made the same choice earlier.
The man’s eyes darted between them. He fished his phone from his pocket, and clumsily forced his way out of the shop.
Seb’s mind divided into a hundred different possibilities as he tried to compute the man’s departure. For a moment, the air between Tom and Vish was close to uncertain. Tom continued thrusting, but kept at a slower pace.
Tom grunted. He turned to Vish.
”Y’think if that bloke rings 999 they’ll get here in time?” He asked, a smirk creeping over the corners of his mouth.
Vish returned his attention to his phone, slouching over the stool.
”No chance, mate.”
That was the moment that Seb broke. The last shred of hope disintegrated in his mind. Something crumbled deep inside him that could never be rebuilt as he reckoned with his unavoidable fate. Powerless and bare, he decided latching onto his own regret would keep him grounded. This was his fair punishment, it was justice. Nobody was coming to save him, but he didn’t need saving, he just needed to endure it. It’s okay.
Maintaining a mocking eye contact, Tom licked his own hand, lubricating his fingers, before bringing them down to Seb's cunt, still thrusting. The coil in Seb's stomach tightened as Tom massaged warm sparks into his clit. The sacrilegious pleasure became visible on his face.
”Yeah… I know you like that, slut… I know that gets you off.”
He was right. Seb had never been able to finish from penetration alone. Maybe it was dysphoria, he wasn't sure, but his clit had always needed that attention. He’d always felt guilty bringing this up after they’d had sex, knowing it made Tom feel frustrated, inadequate. That guilt quickly turned to apathy after the first night with Angus.
But to see him weaponising it now, having been capable of it all along, made Seb sick to his stomach.
Tom swirled the leaking cum around Seb's clit, enveloping it in soft warmth while his hard cock tore Seb apart from underneath. Tom looked down at the whimpering mess Vish had seeded for him, and decided then and there to finish the job.
Seb found himself plunged into a claustrophobic, bruising kiss. He tried to pull away, but Tom moaned into his lips, his thrusts faltering as he chased the electric pleasure.
Tom finally broke away from the forceful kiss. The two held burning eye contact for just a second, before Tom clapped a hand across Seb's face.
Seb abruptly stopped breathing. Tom’s face contorted into a vengeful desperation.
”... Fuck - ... You…”
In that perfect, twisted moment, everything came crashing down on Seb. The stinging in his cheek, the ravaged mess of his cunt, the fingers pumping his clit - it was too much, it was too fast, it was too hot. He shivered, a feverish flutter blossomed in his stomach. He could feel his clit throbbing, his thighs trembling, closer and closer, tighter and tighter, until the flood gates released.
The orgasm shattered him, racked through his body with spasmic jerks. A nauseated, guttural noise stammered out from his chest. His legs shook, his knuckles burned white, gripping the counter for dear life. Fresh slick gushed from his shuddering cunt, spilling out from around Tom's pumping shaft.
Just as he felt the height of the climax ebb, Tom released a starved groan, punctuated with various swears. Punching several brutal thrusts through Seb's aftershocks, Tom came. He let the cum jet inside, but at the last moment, he frantically pulled out. Seb flinched. A thick spurt of cum painted a white stripe across Seb's bare tensed stomach. Then another. Then another.
”F- ucking, shit… F-fuck…”
Tom nursed his twitching cock as the last few drops swelled from its tip. Through half-closed eyes, Seb looked down at his own ruined cunt, overflowing with a depraved mix of cum, pushing wave after wave of it out with steady pulses. The cum on his stomach slowly streaked down his sides in hot strings. The pair of them panted, stunned, sharing in the overwhelm.
Tom retained an exasperated expression, his breaths ragged. He met Seb's gaze.
”P - put your trousers on…”
Seb, drunk from the trauma, barely registered the words. Tom clenched his teeth.
”I'm talking to you, cunt. Put your trousers back on.”
A genuine confusion passed over Seb's face. Tom quickly tucked himself away and zipped up his own jeans.
”NOW!” He screamed.
Seb jolted into action like a frightened animal, slipping off the wet counter and haphazardly pulling up his pants and trousers. He shivered as his soaked cunt grew cold and wet in his pants, unpleasantly leaking down the inside of his jeans.
”Now walk away.”
Seb couldn't believe what he was hearing. Struggling to stay on his feet, he momentarily refused. That couldn't be it, this couldn't be over. Tom can't just fuck him and dump him like this, not again. But Tom's expression was unrelenting. He snapped into a frustrated anger.
“I know you fucking heard me, cunt. Fuck off! With all that cum in your pants. I want it to - to keep you wet until you get home and fucking cry or something. Go! FUCK OFF!”
The cum on Seb's stomach stuck to his shirt as he pulled it down over him. He frantically backed away around the counter, unable to bring himself to fully commit to the escape. Tom blushed, embarrassed by his outburst in front of Vish. Vish had hardly looked up from his phone.
Tom grew violently impatient as Seb hesitated there, trembling like a pathetic animal. He grabbed the pack of fags from the counter, and threw it at him. Seb flinched hard as the little box scraped the palm of his outstretched hand. Then again, as Tom launched the curly wurly at him.
”GET OUT!” Tom screamed.
Seb almost wanted to laugh, it was so pathetic, it was the Tom he had broken up with. But his surprising amusement was drowned out by a genuine terror, by the knowledge of just how much he could hurt him.
Sebastian stumbled out of the shop, back into the hammering rain.
He stood there, letting the rain soak and freeze him once again, washing away his sins. He remained paralysed as oblivious passers-by shoved past him on the pavement. That was it. He was used. The punishment was done, but he'd feel it for years after the fact. He got what he wanted, and I got what I deserved.