Sports Fan Fiction ❯ Punishment ❯ Sins of the Lover ( Chapter 7 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: NotEpicProportions 
Jamie McMurray receives a tape.
Disclaimer: I do not know, nor own, any of the characters in this story. It is a work of fiction and not intended to be an accurate description of the day to day lives of any NASCAR drivers.
Miscellaneous: Sports Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Hentai / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.17.2006 | Updated On: 08.17.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 593 | Visits: 177 | Status: Work In Progress
Jamie McMurray receives a tape.
Disclaimer: I do not know, nor own, any of the characters in this story. It is a work of fiction and not intended to be an accurate description of the day to day lives of any NASCAR drivers.
Miscellaneous: Sports Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Hentai / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.17.2006 | Updated On: 08.17.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 593 | Visits: 177 | Status: Work In Progress
The TV blared. The remote had fallen to the floor. And Jamie had gone with it.
Though he had known Kasey's story, when the tape arrived at his door he hadn't been able to force himself to believe that his Casey was suffering the same fate. That his warm, gentle, loving Casey was being destroyed by a maniac. When he had pressed play, all lies that he had told himself were destroyed, along with his ability to hold himself upright.
He could not tear his eyes away from the scene before him. Blood trickled from his fiancé's body as if from a slow flowing water fountain. He was stained with it. The place, into which Jamie had so often pressed himself, where he had so often spent his want and desire, was battered, violated.
He watched as, again and again, objects were thrust into the man that he loved viciously. He heard the begging for mercy turn into the screaming for it. Tears streamed down his face as he watched the man who had been his strength for years slowly be destroyed, bit by bit.
"Oh god, Casey, oh god, oh my god," he whispered, his fingers tracing Casey's outline on the screen.
Time and again, he watched his lover brought to orgasm. The pit of his stomach curled. He placed the blame squarely upon his own shoulders. Casey had never even been into the idea of pain with pleasure, combining violence with lust, but he had been convinced simply by Jamie's desires. And now, because of all that they had done together, his body responded even when he wished desperately that it wouldn't.
Jamie rocked back and forth, the tape seeming never ending. He wanted to crawl inside himself and stay there. He wanted the pain of all that he was watching to simply cease to be. In the midst of his own mind rambling, he heard The Voice.
"All must be cleansed, McMurray. Your sins have become his and he now has been cleansed for them all," The Voice spoke evenly, though he could not be seen, "All must be cleansed."
His sins were many that much he knew. What he did not know was how The Voice knew them, or why it had been Casey to pay for them. The last frame had shown Casey's lifeless body. Jamie stared, knowing that his lover was dead but unable to tear his eyes away. The urge to die right along with him was sudden.
Slowly, he pulled himself from the floor and moved into the kitchen. He felt sick, detached, and numb. As the knife slid from its carving block, he stared blindly at his wrists. He would end the pain, the guilt. He would be with his Casey before the day ended.
Just as the knife touched itself to his left wrist, the phone rang. He wanted to speak to no one, but also knew better than to arouse any suspicion. He wanted to be long dead before anyone found him. He slowly raised the receiver to his ear without saying a word.
"Jamie?! Jamie, are you there? Come on, James, I know you're there," Jimmie's voice drifted frantically across the line, "They found him, Jamie. They found Casey. Jamie, damnit, talk to me. Did you year me? He's alive, Jamie, they found him and he's alive!"
Though he had known Kasey's story, when the tape arrived at his door he hadn't been able to force himself to believe that his Casey was suffering the same fate. That his warm, gentle, loving Casey was being destroyed by a maniac. When he had pressed play, all lies that he had told himself were destroyed, along with his ability to hold himself upright.
He could not tear his eyes away from the scene before him. Blood trickled from his fiancé's body as if from a slow flowing water fountain. He was stained with it. The place, into which Jamie had so often pressed himself, where he had so often spent his want and desire, was battered, violated.
He watched as, again and again, objects were thrust into the man that he loved viciously. He heard the begging for mercy turn into the screaming for it. Tears streamed down his face as he watched the man who had been his strength for years slowly be destroyed, bit by bit.
"Oh god, Casey, oh god, oh my god," he whispered, his fingers tracing Casey's outline on the screen.
Time and again, he watched his lover brought to orgasm. The pit of his stomach curled. He placed the blame squarely upon his own shoulders. Casey had never even been into the idea of pain with pleasure, combining violence with lust, but he had been convinced simply by Jamie's desires. And now, because of all that they had done together, his body responded even when he wished desperately that it wouldn't.
Jamie rocked back and forth, the tape seeming never ending. He wanted to crawl inside himself and stay there. He wanted the pain of all that he was watching to simply cease to be. In the midst of his own mind rambling, he heard The Voice.
"All must be cleansed, McMurray. Your sins have become his and he now has been cleansed for them all," The Voice spoke evenly, though he could not be seen, "All must be cleansed."
His sins were many that much he knew. What he did not know was how The Voice knew them, or why it had been Casey to pay for them. The last frame had shown Casey's lifeless body. Jamie stared, knowing that his lover was dead but unable to tear his eyes away. The urge to die right along with him was sudden.
Slowly, he pulled himself from the floor and moved into the kitchen. He felt sick, detached, and numb. As the knife slid from its carving block, he stared blindly at his wrists. He would end the pain, the guilt. He would be with his Casey before the day ended.
Just as the knife touched itself to his left wrist, the phone rang. He wanted to speak to no one, but also knew better than to arouse any suspicion. He wanted to be long dead before anyone found him. He slowly raised the receiver to his ear without saying a word.
"Jamie?! Jamie, are you there? Come on, James, I know you're there," Jimmie's voice drifted frantically across the line, "They found him, Jamie. They found Casey. Jamie, damnit, talk to me. Did you year me? He's alive, Jamie, they found him and he's alive!"