Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Hooking The Shot ❯ Trowa ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Naughty Quatre...Trowa has to set things straight and lay down the law...
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.12.2005 | Updated On: 05.09.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.5K | Visits: 356 | Status: Completed
Naughty Quatre...Trowa has to set things straight and lay down the law...
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.12.2005 | Updated On: 05.09.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.5K | Visits: 356 | Status: Completed
Trowa::
Trowa Barton looked uneasily at Quatre Winner as the blond sat next to him in class. He couldn’t be sure, but he had seen suspicious red marks on the blond’s neck, and the school’s uniform was making it hard for him to look without really making it obvious. Sitting next to him at their shared computer station, Trowa continued to stare at the blond as Quatre worked through some problems that had been assigned earlier.
“Quatre?”
“Yeah?”
“What& #8217;s that on your neck?”
“My collar and tie. Why?”
“No...those...red marks...”
Quatre reddened as he straightened in his seat, thinking about the day before, with Jake Trip in the gym. His body flushed with remembered heat and pleasure at what had conspired on the hardwood floor, and he reached up to touch his neck. He and Trowa weren’t together anymore, so it wasn’t as if he were cheating...and being with Jake had given him definite good feelings about sex once more, so...
“They’re hickies, Trowa,” he said bluntly, the goth’s jaw dropping. “I got them yesterday...why? What’s it to you?”
Trowa stared at Quatre in disbelief, then blinked away his shock. He heard the words, and saw the marks, but he couldn’t rightly believe that it was true. He’d thought for sure Quatre had a complex with sex after his porn tape with Une and that bad incident with Triton Bloom...who the hell did the blond score with?
He narrowed his eyes.
“I thought that Max character was with Felicia,” he growled, talking of Max Sheridan, who’s very face sent people walking into walls and tripping over themselves. Max had a crush on Quatre before finally realizing that his true place was with Felicia Passage, Quatre’s best (girl?) friend.
“He is,” Quatre muttered, rubbing absently at the marks on his neck. Ramos was going to kill him for having visible hickies in his basketball jersey. But they were well worth it–he had to stop himself from drooling, liking the exhausted, strained feeling he had in his ass and groin area. Jake had been so *good*...
“I was with someone else...”
“Triton?”
“NO! God, didn’t you hear a word I said about that guy? It sucked. Sleeping with him sucked!”
“Who was it?”
“I’m not telling you! Get your makeup wearing drag queen face out of my business, Trowa,” Quatre grumbled, flushing as he continued to think of yesterday. He starting thinking of the next time he could have with Jake, planning on seducing the older male for a repeat performance...
Trowa stared at him in silence, then narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
After class, he made a few phone calls. To ensure his privacy, he staked out a lone bench outside on the campus quad, and settled himself down, ready for negotiations.
Ramid Winner was Quatre’s father–due to the fact that his only son was gay, Ramid had disowned the boy in shame. Trowa had only seen the guy once in a doped up rage, and so, wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to go about this...only that he’d seen it in a comic book once, and he was going to try it out just to see what happened.
“Is this Mr. Winner?” He asked when Ramid’s heavily accented voice came on-line.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“I’m a person of interest...I am interested in your son. I understand you disowned him?”
“...Who is this?”
“My name is irrelevant. From what I hear, you do not like the fact that your son is gay, now do you? What if I tell you that I can do something about it?”
Trowa smirked as the other end fell silent, and he grinned in satisfaction when he heard Ramid say, “Yes... I’m listening...”
Later on that day, Quatre was heading back to his dorm room to change out of his school uniform when he heard a strange sound coming from the fifth floor. It sounded rather ominous and quite familiar, laughter that belonged to the demented, but he bravely ventured up, wincing slightly at the condition of his ass as he took the stairs. Jake may not have been with males before, but he sure knew how to make one happy...
Quatre walked over to his room, pressing in the passcode to open his door. Walking in, he stopped short at the sight of Trowa standing in the middle of his room, looking rather evil.
“What the fuck?” he asked questioningly, furrowing his brow as he dropped his bag to the side. “What are you doing in here?”
Trowa merely chuckled, shaking his head from side to side. His eyeliner was smudged, giving him a sort of desperate appearance in combination of his customary black clothing. Quatre had the urge to turn and haul ass upon seeing the predatory expression on Trowa’s face, but he couldn’t move. He was riveted in place. Trowa slowly advanced onto him, making Quatre realize that his hands were hidden behind his back. When Trowa moved suddenly, displaying an official packet of papers in one hand, Quatre cringed.
He relaxed upon seeing the official packet, and gave a lifted eyebrow at the goth.
“You know what these are, my perky blond love?”
“STOP CALLING ME NAMES!!”
“These,” Trowa continued, pulling out several official documents, “are, in order, your birth certificate, social security information, your immunization charts...everything that makes you a citizen of our wonderful States and our planet...”
Quatre stared at him in confusion, not getting where this was going. Blinking dumbly, he looked at the documents that were, indeed, what Trowa said they were. He looked back at Trowa, shrugging slightly in his confusion.
“Everything that makes you you, Quatre Winner,” Trowa cooed, waving the documents around. He suddenly threw them over his shoulder, papers fluttering everywhere as he pinned Quatre to his door. Both arm were pinned alongside Quatre’s head, the blond staring up at him in silence, slightly rocked with fear at the maniacal expression on Trowa’s face. But...he had to admit...he felt rather excited about it. “I own you. I bought you from your father, who was much too willing to give you up so quickly...! You belong to me, now.”
“What?!” Quatre exclaimed, voice cracking with the abnormal pitch. “What the hell are you talking about?! You don’t own me! I belong to myself! Trowa, are you high?”
Trowa slammed his hands against the door, silencing Quatre as the blond cringed, expecting a blow of some sort. But, no, Trowa merely pressed his forehead against Quatre’s, forcing the blond to look up into his demented expression.
“I am sober. I have been sober for the longest time,” he said, breathing every word against Quatre’s lips. The blond shuddered at the close proximity of his ex, feeling helpless and meek...vulnerable... “And I own you, Quatre Winner. You are mine. I have those documents which state that you are mine. You are mine to own and possess, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Your father sold you to me for ten bucks, and I plan on milking out my money’s worth from you...”
Quatre stiffened at hearing the words. As ridiculous as it all sounded...for ten fucking bucks?!
His face slowly reddened, and his entire body stiffened with rage. His fists balled, and his mouth curled into a maddened snarl. Trowa pulled away from him with a devious smirk as Quatre erupted with rage.
“MY FATHER SOLD ME TO YOU FOR TEN BUCKS?!” he shrieked, kicking at anything that was unfortunate enough to be lying near by. Trowa ducked flying clothes and shoes as Quatre’s rage took over him. “I DON’T BELIEVE THIS SHIT!! I’M WORTH WAAAY MORE THAN TEN BUCKS!!! And this is fucking ridiculous!! You don’t own me, Trowa! Shove that fucking shit up your fucking ass, you motherfucking dick! I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!!”
“You’re mine, all mine, Quatre!” Trowa then roared, diving bombing the boy from behind, knocking them both to the floor. “I paid for you, fair and square!!!”
Quatre began swinging, roaring with outrage over his father’s apparent lack of business sense, and kicked Trowa off of him. He leapt onto the goth, punching and swinging, while Trowa tried frantically to pin Quatre back onto the floor, where he was going to claim his delicious prize.
He managed to roll Quatre onto his back, and pinned his fists to his chest, using his entire body weight to do so. Quatre squirmed uncomfortably, trying to get loose–trying to breathe. Trowa panted heavily after that strenuous effort, both of them relatively calm for a few moments. Then, he nodded, his bang brushing against Quatre’s face. The blond wiggled his nose and sneezed, but Trowa paid no mind to being splattered with that matter–he planned on being splattered upon by other *various* things as well.
“Now...it’s been awhile between us, hasn’t it?” he whispered, dropping his lips over Quatre’s, kissing him briefly. He pulled back quickly when Quatre tried to bite him with a ferocious snarl. Trowa shifted his position, straddling the boy’s hips. He kept Quatre’s hands pressed against his chest, and used his free hand to unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip Quatre’s school uniform pants.
When Quatre realized what he was doing, he began struggling in earnest, trying to throw the goth off. But even as he did so, the thought that Trowa was going to take him caused him to pause. They had such great sex–and it was fairly ridiculous right now, but----sex was *sex*! And it was Trowa, the only one that knew his every spot to manipulate and play with...he grudgingly allowed Trowa to yank his pants and underwear down, flushing with the thought that Trowa was going to take him, after Jake had taken him yesterday.
Wow! Going from no sex to having sex with two different partners in two days?!
Trowa greedily exposed Quatre’s privates to his hungry eyes, feeling his own cock twitch in anticipation of the reunion with his highly toned ass. He made sure Quatre wasn’t going to try anything funny when he let go of the blond’s hands, and quickly shucked off his own pants and underwear. He was very pleased that Quatre didn’t move, merely accepted what was going to happen.
Locating the blond’s lotion amid the mess on the floor, Trowa didn’t bother with foreplay–he was going to jump right in it, just the way Quatre liked. His dick was already hard as a rock as he smoothed lotion up and down it’s curved length, the purple head weeping pearly essence as he stared down at Quatre’s wide eyes and slightly slack mouth.
Then, he shifted Quatre’s legs apart, the blond giving a muffled mewl of protest as Trowa then shoved the head of his cock into the unprepared pucker, forcefully wiggling his way into his blond basketball fanatic. Quatre cried aloud at the forceful invasion, clutching Trowa’s shoulders with his hands, his hips trying to scoot back from the goth’s horribly dominating cock. But Trowa reached down, pining his hips down onto the floor so that he couldn’t escape–he had to take it.
Once sheathed to the hilt, Trowa uttered a groan of satisfaction, his entire body singing in joyous reunion upon being inside his blond ex. He wiggled his hips about, finding pure pleasure in being inside this body once more, and dropped his head to Quatre’s neck. He found those offensive marks, and savagely set his mouth over them, claiming the unwelcome spots of another lover, to make his mark over them. Quatre cried aloud once more as his neck was ravaged, feeling shots of pained pleasure course through him as Trowa re-marked all the hickies that Jake had left behind.
Even as Trowa re-hickied his neck, his hips were pumping, his curved member taking full advantage of Quatre’s sore ass, re-acquainting itself with the channel that had pleasured it so lovingly before. Quatre just held on for the ride, sucking in deep breaths of immense delight at the savage taking, completely forgetting everything as to why they’d broken up–as to why Trowa was in his room–he held onto Trowa’s shoulders and allowed the goth to master him.
Trowa looked down in satisfaction of his work, his hips working frantically. Seeing Quatre’s face, reddened with desire and sexual gratification, made him smirk with arrogance. He reached back to pull Quatre’s legs up, forcing the boy’s hips to rise, accurately hitting his pleasure spot.
Quatre screamed aloud in alarm, his shoes bouncing in the air as Trowa continued to stroke and pleasure him with the magnificent use of his curved member. He couldn’t hold onto the goth’s shirt anymore, and simply reached out behind him, above his head, to place his hands palms-flat against the wall. He was being ravaged by his ex, in a primal manner, and he was enjoying it!
Trowa’s balls swung against his ass, slapping it with a light, hairy caress. When he noticed that Quatre’s erection was going neglected, he shifted his hand hold from Quatre’s legs to envelope that hardened member within one hand. He began stroking fiercely, using Quatre’s pre-cum to lubricate the friction. Quatre was shouting continuously now, his face reddened with his efforts, his body trembling madly under Trowa’s force.
And...when he knew his lover was going to come, he stopped every one of his movements, reaching down quickly between them to press that particular spot between Quatre’s balls and currently full anus. Quatre gave a long, suffering moan, his face scrunched with frustration and tears. He gave Trowa a bewilderedly angry expression, trying to catch his breath, his entire body trembling from the assault.
“I didn’t say you can come,” Trowa said sweetly, releasing his hold on the spot. Quatre was trembling rather violently, and Trowa could feel it while he was clenched inside his channel. Trowa loved the way it felt. “But...back to my previous conversation...you belong to me, now. You’re mine. You’re my possession. And what I say, goes. You have no say in what I want, or what you want, you got that?”
Trowa’s words ran over Quatre’s ears, and full comprehension dawned nearly a minute later. He hit Trowa’s arm with a fierce punch, then moved to connect with the goth’s jaw when Trowa ducked neatly, capturing his arm and pinning it over his chest with the weight of his upper body. Quatre was not in a position to fight right yet–his ass was currently held hostage by a pleasurable penis, and his body was racked with the intensity of a promising orgasm–he couldn’t of anything more to do.
His chest heaved as Trowa’s words racked him with their finalism. He couldn’t be someone’s possession, just like that, could he? No...no, it was impossible! His father couldn’t have sold him for ten bucks–he just couldn’t have!
“Trowa,” he said, aware that his breath was hitched due to Trowa’s weight on his chest, and for the fact that he was still on sexual meltdown mode, “I can’t do this. I can’t–I can’t let you own me like this. I...I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, slave,” Trowa growled, nipping Quatre’s lower lip, the blond gasping in pain. “You’re mine. I own you. With the money I made with that stupid tape, I can support you all through school. You want basketball shoes? I’ll buy you every pair in whatever color. You want Jimboy’s? I’ll buy the fucking restaurant. You want dick? I’ll provide that–only it will be mine, and mine only. No one else will have the pleasure of taking you without my permission, you got that?”
“But–! NO! No, I don’t need you!” Quatre cried, shaking his head from side to side. He couldn’t give up his life to this...this...freak! “I can do things on my own! I can support myself! If I have to, I’ll–I’ll–quit basketball to find a real job! I’m not going to let you do this to me! You deranged sick freak!”
“Quatre,” Trowa murmured, pushing into him with a slow, smooth stroke. Quatre cried aloud at the pleasure he received from the action, whimpering, digging his fingers into the floor. “You have no say, sweetheart. You’re all mine...mine...and whatever I say, goes. You can play basketball–but only with my permission. You need balls...? I’ll give you balls...you understand?”
“NO! NEVER! GET OFF!”
“Oh, I will,” Trowa promised, pulling out, then thrusting back in so hard that Quatre screamed, his hips bucking off the floor. “I plan on getting off...but you’re cumming with me, got it?”
“Ah–! Ah–!...harder...!”
“That’s more like it, my poodle-puff of delicious fuck,” Trowa cooed, kissing him once more, snapping his head back when Quatre tried biting him once more.
“DON’T CALL ME NAMES!!!”
“I OWN you, or did you already forget?!” Trowa growled, savagely pumping into Quatre with a frantic pace.
Quatre was shouting aloud with each thrust, his ass horribly sore, yet his pleasure sensors building with overloading sensation. He reached back again, pressing his palms against the wall, finding that his head was practically bouncing off of it this time. Trowa pumped into him, his hips snapping against Quatre’s with a painful crack, his balls bouncing heavily against him.
He growled again, lifting Quatre’s right leg, angling it over his shoulder, allowing for deeper penetration.Quatre had his head tilted back, his mouth open wide with his shouts. He felt Trowa grip his dick once more, lubing it with his pre-cum, stroking furiously like before.
It was entirely too much–Quatre came with a savage force, screaming hoarsely, his leg locking and curling over Trowa’s shoulder, his hips lifting off the floor. Trowa shouted with satisfaction upon his blond’s completion, and continued to ram into his tight, firm ass, his sweat flying in all directions.
Finally, his back straightened, his head tilting back as he came, shooting his load with an exalted shout to the ceiling. His dick pumped and pumped with lurching actions, emptying all into Quatre’s sorely used channel. Breathing heavily, his shoulders heaving with the efforts of taking and pleasuring, Trowa stared up at the ceiling, hands hanging limping at his sides.
Quatre was breathing heavily from the floor, swallowing every little while, both of their hearts pounding fiercely from their previous actions. His legs dripped from Trowa’s body, settling against the floor with a weakened stiffness that came from clenching all his muscles too tightly when he’d come. He couldn’t even move–his body was drained of thought and action.
Trowa looked down at him, then curled his lips with a possessive smile.
“You’re all mine...got it?...”
The next morning, Felicia Passage looked at Quatre curiously as he slowly limped to his seat, taking extra special caution to lower himself into the chair.
“The fuck’s wrong with ya?” she asked around her lollipop, giving him a strange expression.
“You don’t want to know,” Quatre grumbled, wincing as his ass made contact with the hard surface of the chair.
He looked up as Trowa strolled into the classroom, looking uncharacteristically chipper–despite a black eye, split lip, and a somewhat limp in his stride. Their classmates looked at him in horror, then at Quatre, Felicia’s mouth falling open in stunned shock. Trowa looked at Quatre as he walked by, smirking.
“All mine,” he mouthed, taking his seat with a confidence of a man that owned the entire world...
To Be Continued...
Converting /tmp/phpOwwGUf to /dev/stdout
Trowa Barton looked uneasily at Quatre Winner as the blond sat next to him in class. He couldn’t be sure, but he had seen suspicious red marks on the blond’s neck, and the school’s uniform was making it hard for him to look without really making it obvious. Sitting next to him at their shared computer station, Trowa continued to stare at the blond as Quatre worked through some problems that had been assigned earlier.
“Quatre?”
“Yeah?”
“What& #8217;s that on your neck?”
“My collar and tie. Why?”
“No...those...red marks...”
Quatre reddened as he straightened in his seat, thinking about the day before, with Jake Trip in the gym. His body flushed with remembered heat and pleasure at what had conspired on the hardwood floor, and he reached up to touch his neck. He and Trowa weren’t together anymore, so it wasn’t as if he were cheating...and being with Jake had given him definite good feelings about sex once more, so...
“They’re hickies, Trowa,” he said bluntly, the goth’s jaw dropping. “I got them yesterday...why? What’s it to you?”
Trowa stared at Quatre in disbelief, then blinked away his shock. He heard the words, and saw the marks, but he couldn’t rightly believe that it was true. He’d thought for sure Quatre had a complex with sex after his porn tape with Une and that bad incident with Triton Bloom...who the hell did the blond score with?
He narrowed his eyes.
“I thought that Max character was with Felicia,” he growled, talking of Max Sheridan, who’s very face sent people walking into walls and tripping over themselves. Max had a crush on Quatre before finally realizing that his true place was with Felicia Passage, Quatre’s best (girl?) friend.
“He is,” Quatre muttered, rubbing absently at the marks on his neck. Ramos was going to kill him for having visible hickies in his basketball jersey. But they were well worth it–he had to stop himself from drooling, liking the exhausted, strained feeling he had in his ass and groin area. Jake had been so *good*...
“I was with someone else...”
“Triton?”
“NO! God, didn’t you hear a word I said about that guy? It sucked. Sleeping with him sucked!”
“Who was it?”
“I’m not telling you! Get your makeup wearing drag queen face out of my business, Trowa,” Quatre grumbled, flushing as he continued to think of yesterday. He starting thinking of the next time he could have with Jake, planning on seducing the older male for a repeat performance...
Trowa stared at him in silence, then narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
After class, he made a few phone calls. To ensure his privacy, he staked out a lone bench outside on the campus quad, and settled himself down, ready for negotiations.
Ramid Winner was Quatre’s father–due to the fact that his only son was gay, Ramid had disowned the boy in shame. Trowa had only seen the guy once in a doped up rage, and so, wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to go about this...only that he’d seen it in a comic book once, and he was going to try it out just to see what happened.
“Is this Mr. Winner?” He asked when Ramid’s heavily accented voice came on-line.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“I’m a person of interest...I am interested in your son. I understand you disowned him?”
“...Who is this?”
“My name is irrelevant. From what I hear, you do not like the fact that your son is gay, now do you? What if I tell you that I can do something about it?”
Trowa smirked as the other end fell silent, and he grinned in satisfaction when he heard Ramid say, “Yes... I’m listening...”
Later on that day, Quatre was heading back to his dorm room to change out of his school uniform when he heard a strange sound coming from the fifth floor. It sounded rather ominous and quite familiar, laughter that belonged to the demented, but he bravely ventured up, wincing slightly at the condition of his ass as he took the stairs. Jake may not have been with males before, but he sure knew how to make one happy...
Quatre walked over to his room, pressing in the passcode to open his door. Walking in, he stopped short at the sight of Trowa standing in the middle of his room, looking rather evil.
“What the fuck?” he asked questioningly, furrowing his brow as he dropped his bag to the side. “What are you doing in here?”
Trowa merely chuckled, shaking his head from side to side. His eyeliner was smudged, giving him a sort of desperate appearance in combination of his customary black clothing. Quatre had the urge to turn and haul ass upon seeing the predatory expression on Trowa’s face, but he couldn’t move. He was riveted in place. Trowa slowly advanced onto him, making Quatre realize that his hands were hidden behind his back. When Trowa moved suddenly, displaying an official packet of papers in one hand, Quatre cringed.
He relaxed upon seeing the official packet, and gave a lifted eyebrow at the goth.
“You know what these are, my perky blond love?”
“STOP CALLING ME NAMES!!”
“These,” Trowa continued, pulling out several official documents, “are, in order, your birth certificate, social security information, your immunization charts...everything that makes you a citizen of our wonderful States and our planet...”
Quatre stared at him in confusion, not getting where this was going. Blinking dumbly, he looked at the documents that were, indeed, what Trowa said they were. He looked back at Trowa, shrugging slightly in his confusion.
“Everything that makes you you, Quatre Winner,” Trowa cooed, waving the documents around. He suddenly threw them over his shoulder, papers fluttering everywhere as he pinned Quatre to his door. Both arm were pinned alongside Quatre’s head, the blond staring up at him in silence, slightly rocked with fear at the maniacal expression on Trowa’s face. But...he had to admit...he felt rather excited about it. “I own you. I bought you from your father, who was much too willing to give you up so quickly...! You belong to me, now.”
“What?!” Quatre exclaimed, voice cracking with the abnormal pitch. “What the hell are you talking about?! You don’t own me! I belong to myself! Trowa, are you high?”
Trowa slammed his hands against the door, silencing Quatre as the blond cringed, expecting a blow of some sort. But, no, Trowa merely pressed his forehead against Quatre’s, forcing the blond to look up into his demented expression.
“I am sober. I have been sober for the longest time,” he said, breathing every word against Quatre’s lips. The blond shuddered at the close proximity of his ex, feeling helpless and meek...vulnerable... “And I own you, Quatre Winner. You are mine. I have those documents which state that you are mine. You are mine to own and possess, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Your father sold you to me for ten bucks, and I plan on milking out my money’s worth from you...”
Quatre stiffened at hearing the words. As ridiculous as it all sounded...for ten fucking bucks?!
His face slowly reddened, and his entire body stiffened with rage. His fists balled, and his mouth curled into a maddened snarl. Trowa pulled away from him with a devious smirk as Quatre erupted with rage.
“MY FATHER SOLD ME TO YOU FOR TEN BUCKS?!” he shrieked, kicking at anything that was unfortunate enough to be lying near by. Trowa ducked flying clothes and shoes as Quatre’s rage took over him. “I DON’T BELIEVE THIS SHIT!! I’M WORTH WAAAY MORE THAN TEN BUCKS!!! And this is fucking ridiculous!! You don’t own me, Trowa! Shove that fucking shit up your fucking ass, you motherfucking dick! I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!!”
“You’re mine, all mine, Quatre!” Trowa then roared, diving bombing the boy from behind, knocking them both to the floor. “I paid for you, fair and square!!!”
Quatre began swinging, roaring with outrage over his father’s apparent lack of business sense, and kicked Trowa off of him. He leapt onto the goth, punching and swinging, while Trowa tried frantically to pin Quatre back onto the floor, where he was going to claim his delicious prize.
He managed to roll Quatre onto his back, and pinned his fists to his chest, using his entire body weight to do so. Quatre squirmed uncomfortably, trying to get loose–trying to breathe. Trowa panted heavily after that strenuous effort, both of them relatively calm for a few moments. Then, he nodded, his bang brushing against Quatre’s face. The blond wiggled his nose and sneezed, but Trowa paid no mind to being splattered with that matter–he planned on being splattered upon by other *various* things as well.
“Now...it’s been awhile between us, hasn’t it?” he whispered, dropping his lips over Quatre’s, kissing him briefly. He pulled back quickly when Quatre tried to bite him with a ferocious snarl. Trowa shifted his position, straddling the boy’s hips. He kept Quatre’s hands pressed against his chest, and used his free hand to unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip Quatre’s school uniform pants.
When Quatre realized what he was doing, he began struggling in earnest, trying to throw the goth off. But even as he did so, the thought that Trowa was going to take him caused him to pause. They had such great sex–and it was fairly ridiculous right now, but----sex was *sex*! And it was Trowa, the only one that knew his every spot to manipulate and play with...he grudgingly allowed Trowa to yank his pants and underwear down, flushing with the thought that Trowa was going to take him, after Jake had taken him yesterday.
Wow! Going from no sex to having sex with two different partners in two days?!
Trowa greedily exposed Quatre’s privates to his hungry eyes, feeling his own cock twitch in anticipation of the reunion with his highly toned ass. He made sure Quatre wasn’t going to try anything funny when he let go of the blond’s hands, and quickly shucked off his own pants and underwear. He was very pleased that Quatre didn’t move, merely accepted what was going to happen.
Locating the blond’s lotion amid the mess on the floor, Trowa didn’t bother with foreplay–he was going to jump right in it, just the way Quatre liked. His dick was already hard as a rock as he smoothed lotion up and down it’s curved length, the purple head weeping pearly essence as he stared down at Quatre’s wide eyes and slightly slack mouth.
Then, he shifted Quatre’s legs apart, the blond giving a muffled mewl of protest as Trowa then shoved the head of his cock into the unprepared pucker, forcefully wiggling his way into his blond basketball fanatic. Quatre cried aloud at the forceful invasion, clutching Trowa’s shoulders with his hands, his hips trying to scoot back from the goth’s horribly dominating cock. But Trowa reached down, pining his hips down onto the floor so that he couldn’t escape–he had to take it.
Once sheathed to the hilt, Trowa uttered a groan of satisfaction, his entire body singing in joyous reunion upon being inside his blond ex. He wiggled his hips about, finding pure pleasure in being inside this body once more, and dropped his head to Quatre’s neck. He found those offensive marks, and savagely set his mouth over them, claiming the unwelcome spots of another lover, to make his mark over them. Quatre cried aloud once more as his neck was ravaged, feeling shots of pained pleasure course through him as Trowa re-marked all the hickies that Jake had left behind.
Even as Trowa re-hickied his neck, his hips were pumping, his curved member taking full advantage of Quatre’s sore ass, re-acquainting itself with the channel that had pleasured it so lovingly before. Quatre just held on for the ride, sucking in deep breaths of immense delight at the savage taking, completely forgetting everything as to why they’d broken up–as to why Trowa was in his room–he held onto Trowa’s shoulders and allowed the goth to master him.
Trowa looked down in satisfaction of his work, his hips working frantically. Seeing Quatre’s face, reddened with desire and sexual gratification, made him smirk with arrogance. He reached back to pull Quatre’s legs up, forcing the boy’s hips to rise, accurately hitting his pleasure spot.
Quatre screamed aloud in alarm, his shoes bouncing in the air as Trowa continued to stroke and pleasure him with the magnificent use of his curved member. He couldn’t hold onto the goth’s shirt anymore, and simply reached out behind him, above his head, to place his hands palms-flat against the wall. He was being ravaged by his ex, in a primal manner, and he was enjoying it!
Trowa’s balls swung against his ass, slapping it with a light, hairy caress. When he noticed that Quatre’s erection was going neglected, he shifted his hand hold from Quatre’s legs to envelope that hardened member within one hand. He began stroking fiercely, using Quatre’s pre-cum to lubricate the friction. Quatre was shouting continuously now, his face reddened with his efforts, his body trembling madly under Trowa’s force.
And...when he knew his lover was going to come, he stopped every one of his movements, reaching down quickly between them to press that particular spot between Quatre’s balls and currently full anus. Quatre gave a long, suffering moan, his face scrunched with frustration and tears. He gave Trowa a bewilderedly angry expression, trying to catch his breath, his entire body trembling from the assault.
“I didn’t say you can come,” Trowa said sweetly, releasing his hold on the spot. Quatre was trembling rather violently, and Trowa could feel it while he was clenched inside his channel. Trowa loved the way it felt. “But...back to my previous conversation...you belong to me, now. You’re mine. You’re my possession. And what I say, goes. You have no say in what I want, or what you want, you got that?”
Trowa’s words ran over Quatre’s ears, and full comprehension dawned nearly a minute later. He hit Trowa’s arm with a fierce punch, then moved to connect with the goth’s jaw when Trowa ducked neatly, capturing his arm and pinning it over his chest with the weight of his upper body. Quatre was not in a position to fight right yet–his ass was currently held hostage by a pleasurable penis, and his body was racked with the intensity of a promising orgasm–he couldn’t of anything more to do.
His chest heaved as Trowa’s words racked him with their finalism. He couldn’t be someone’s possession, just like that, could he? No...no, it was impossible! His father couldn’t have sold him for ten bucks–he just couldn’t have!
“Trowa,” he said, aware that his breath was hitched due to Trowa’s weight on his chest, and for the fact that he was still on sexual meltdown mode, “I can’t do this. I can’t–I can’t let you own me like this. I...I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, slave,” Trowa growled, nipping Quatre’s lower lip, the blond gasping in pain. “You’re mine. I own you. With the money I made with that stupid tape, I can support you all through school. You want basketball shoes? I’ll buy you every pair in whatever color. You want Jimboy’s? I’ll buy the fucking restaurant. You want dick? I’ll provide that–only it will be mine, and mine only. No one else will have the pleasure of taking you without my permission, you got that?”
“But–! NO! No, I don’t need you!” Quatre cried, shaking his head from side to side. He couldn’t give up his life to this...this...freak! “I can do things on my own! I can support myself! If I have to, I’ll–I’ll–quit basketball to find a real job! I’m not going to let you do this to me! You deranged sick freak!”
“Quatre,” Trowa murmured, pushing into him with a slow, smooth stroke. Quatre cried aloud at the pleasure he received from the action, whimpering, digging his fingers into the floor. “You have no say, sweetheart. You’re all mine...mine...and whatever I say, goes. You can play basketball–but only with my permission. You need balls...? I’ll give you balls...you understand?”
“NO! NEVER! GET OFF!”
“Oh, I will,” Trowa promised, pulling out, then thrusting back in so hard that Quatre screamed, his hips bucking off the floor. “I plan on getting off...but you’re cumming with me, got it?”
“Ah–! Ah–!...harder...!”
“That’s more like it, my poodle-puff of delicious fuck,” Trowa cooed, kissing him once more, snapping his head back when Quatre tried biting him once more.
“DON’T CALL ME NAMES!!!”
“I OWN you, or did you already forget?!” Trowa growled, savagely pumping into Quatre with a frantic pace.
Quatre was shouting aloud with each thrust, his ass horribly sore, yet his pleasure sensors building with overloading sensation. He reached back again, pressing his palms against the wall, finding that his head was practically bouncing off of it this time. Trowa pumped into him, his hips snapping against Quatre’s with a painful crack, his balls bouncing heavily against him.
He growled again, lifting Quatre’s right leg, angling it over his shoulder, allowing for deeper penetration.Quatre had his head tilted back, his mouth open wide with his shouts. He felt Trowa grip his dick once more, lubing it with his pre-cum, stroking furiously like before.
It was entirely too much–Quatre came with a savage force, screaming hoarsely, his leg locking and curling over Trowa’s shoulder, his hips lifting off the floor. Trowa shouted with satisfaction upon his blond’s completion, and continued to ram into his tight, firm ass, his sweat flying in all directions.
Finally, his back straightened, his head tilting back as he came, shooting his load with an exalted shout to the ceiling. His dick pumped and pumped with lurching actions, emptying all into Quatre’s sorely used channel. Breathing heavily, his shoulders heaving with the efforts of taking and pleasuring, Trowa stared up at the ceiling, hands hanging limping at his sides.
Quatre was breathing heavily from the floor, swallowing every little while, both of their hearts pounding fiercely from their previous actions. His legs dripped from Trowa’s body, settling against the floor with a weakened stiffness that came from clenching all his muscles too tightly when he’d come. He couldn’t even move–his body was drained of thought and action.
Trowa looked down at him, then curled his lips with a possessive smile.
“You’re all mine...got it?...”
The next morning, Felicia Passage looked at Quatre curiously as he slowly limped to his seat, taking extra special caution to lower himself into the chair.
“The fuck’s wrong with ya?” she asked around her lollipop, giving him a strange expression.
“You don’t want to know,” Quatre grumbled, wincing as his ass made contact with the hard surface of the chair.
He looked up as Trowa strolled into the classroom, looking uncharacteristically chipper–despite a black eye, split lip, and a somewhat limp in his stride. Their classmates looked at him in horror, then at Quatre, Felicia’s mouth falling open in stunned shock. Trowa looked at Quatre as he walked by, smirking.
“All mine,” he mouthed, taking his seat with a confidence of a man that owned the entire world...
To Be Continued...
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