(to cause to move faster)
§
After a long show and an even
longer after party you enter your tour bus hoping for a quiet night’s
sleep. Bret has been in a surprisingly
good mood lately so you think it might actually be possible. You’ve also made it to the bus before
him. That always helps. You don’t bother to fully undress, you just
kick off your shoes and drop your t-shirt on the floor, before climbing into
your bunk and curling into a ball. Your
eyes immediately begin to drift shut.
And then you hear Bret.
“Rikki? Are you in here?” Part of
you wants to keep quiet. The other part
knows there will be repercussions if you do.
“Yeah, Bret,” you mumble, sticking
your head reluctantly out the curtain of your bunk. “I’m trying to sleep.”
He walks close to you and puts his
hand on the side of your face. He
winks. “Not anymore, you aren’t. Come on.
Get up and come with me.” Every
muscle in your body wants to stay right where you are. But those lust-filled eyes boring into you
won’t allow it. You force a smile and
roll back out of your bunk before following him into the rear lounge. As soon as you step in behind him he closes
the door and locks it. You sigh. “Something wrong?” he asks you, his voice
tight.
You shake your head. “I’m just tired, Bret. But I’m fine.”
He pulls you into his arms and
kisses you roughly and you notice that he tastes of Crown Royal and
cigarettes. “I can think of a way for
you to wake up,” he leers when he pushes you away. Your legs hit the edge of the coffee table but you remain
standing. You’re not sure that you’re
up for this tonight. And, really, you
kind of just want to get this over with.
Putting your hands on his hips, you draw him close to you.
“What do you need?” Your voice is deep, husky, and completely
put-on. You hope he doesn't notice.
“Suck me,” he tells you, sounding
almost emotionless. He stares you down,
waiting for you to comply.
You’re on your knees in front of
him in seconds, your hands on the large belt buckle he always wears. You idly wonder why he insists on such a
comebersome accessory. It really does
nothing more than hinder what he wants to happen so quickly. The buckle is undone quickly; you’ve become
somewhat of a pro at this. You unzip
his jeans and wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him quickly a few times
before popping him into your mouth. And
then his cell phone rings.
You look up at Bret and find him
opening his phone. You’re a little
surprised. More disappointed. Does he really think that little of what you
give him? You’d never be able to carry
on a phone conversation while Bobby was giving you head. He looks down at you and smirks. “Keep going,” he tells you. And then, into the phone, “hello?”
There’s nothing for you to do but
continue what you’ve started. But you
can’t help but be a little nervous when Bret laughs and says, “hang on,
man. I’m gonna put you on the
speaker.” Then he’s hitting a button
and placing the small silver phone on the table beside you. “Okay, go ahead.”
“I just thought I should call you
to let you know that CC…” you don’t hear what else is said. All you know is that it’s Bobby’s
voice. And that your heart has just
come to a screeching halt. You gag
reflexively and Bret looks down at you, anger flashing in his eyes. You try to remain normal and calm but you
know it isn’t working. The idea of
Bret’s cock in your mouth is suddenly one of the most repulsive things you’ve
ever had to deal with.
“What’s wrong?” he questions
harshly and you’re certain that you’re going to die right at that very instant.
“What?” Bobby asks. Bret laughs.
“I wasn’t talking to you,
bro. Sorry about that. You caught me at kind of a bad time.” You stare up at Bret, forcing your mouth to
continue to move on him, pleading him with your eyes to let this stop. He just stares back. And then Bobby is laughing and you feel like
you could cry.
“You got a girl on the bus?” he
jokes. “Why the fuck did you pick up
your phone?”
“Yeah,” Bret replies, grabbing a
fistful of your hair and forcing more of his hard cock into your mouth. “I’ve got my bitch for the night. We’re just having a little fun.” Tears do sting your eyes now. You love him so much. How can he be so heartless? But your sadness is mixed with fear. Fear that Bobby will find out exactly what
is going on. You know if that happens,
everything you’ve built between Bobby and yourself will be over. The power won’t be in your hands anymore. And without that power, you’ll have nothing.
“Do you want me to let you go,
man?” Bobby continues to laugh. He sounds a bit drunk. Realizing that only serves to make you feel
worse. Even with the power you hold
over him he doesn’t always heed your commands.
Somewhere deep inside of you this stirs up anger towards Bret. Why doesn’t the lead singer, the one who’s
supposed to care so damn much about the band, give a flying fuck that his bass
player has fallen back off the wagon?
He should care. Like you do.
“No,” Bret tells him, hissing just
slightly and bucking his hips. You can
see how much he’s enjoying this situation.
For someone who’s always been so secretive with your relationship,
you’re a little shocked to find that this turns him on. But it’s probably not the idea of talking on
the phone while getting sucked off that attracts him, you think. Just the idea of how uncomfortable it
obviously makes you. Bret has always
found pleasure in your discomfort. You
wish you could say that you hated him for it.
“This little whore can do fine work while I’m on the phone, I’m sure.”
“You’re a sick fuck, Michaels,”
Bobby says seriously. “Lucky. But sick.”
Your stomach turns at Bret’s response.
“Maybe I can send this hot little
thing you’re way when I’m done. I think
this one might be just your type.”
The thought flashes through your
mind that Bret has no idea how close to the truth he really is. And again, that scares you. You’re beyond walking a fine line at this
point. You feel more like you’re
hanging off the edge of a cliff waiting to plummet into the ground beneath
you. You also wonder what Bobby is
really thinking right now. He knows
that you and Bret have been fucking.
Could he have any idea that it’s you on your knees in front of this man? Would it bother him if he knew? It doesn’t matter. If he does know, he’s playing it off well.
Bret grabs another handful of your
hair and you have to loosen your throat muscles as he plunges into you hard and
fast. You force yourself not to pay
attention to any more of the conversation he is having with Bobby. Instead, you focus on the task at hand. The sooner he gets off, the sooner this
whole fucked up mess will be over. For
the first time since you’ve been with him, you couldn’t care less what Bret
wants to do to you. He could tie you up
and beat the shit out of you for all you care.
Anything, as long as he hangs up that damn phone.
Bret’s breathing is becoming more
haggard and his pace more erratic as you place your hand on his hip to steady
yourself. You bob your head up and
down, letting him fuck your mouth.
“Jesus,” you hear him groan.
Then he mumbles something about saying something, but you don’t quite
understand. And it’s then that Bobby’s
voice filters back in to your head.
“Yeah, baby.” His voice is deep, lust-filled. You wonder why he’s never spoken to you that
way before. “Do you like that hard cock
in your mouth? Suck his cock. Make him
come.”
It takes every instinct that you
have not to choke on your own tongue.
He’s encouraging you, or whom he thinks you are, anyway, to make Bret
come. This has just gone from
disturbing to incredibly insane. And
the way you’re suddenly straining against your jeans has made it really fucking
painful as well.
“Do what he says,” Bret grinds
out, his eyes closed and his head thrown back.
“Fucking make me come, bitch.”
Through the din of Bobby’s low
voice repeating “do it” and similar things over and over again, and Bret’s deep
moans, you deep throat his cock and swallow around it. Once.
Twice. A third time. You choke back your gag reflex. And then he’s there, tensing beneath your
hands and shooting into your mouth. He
moans. So does Bobby. Holy fuck, you think, Bobby is getting
himself off to this. Part of you is
angry. How dare he? He’s yours.
The other part doesn’t care because this couldn’t possibly be any more
twisted than it is. But the way your
own cock is throbbing for relief shows you that it could. You would do anything to have someone
touching you right now. Anything. But you know that no one will. Bret certainly won’t. And Bobby has no idea that you’re even a
part of this.
Bret continues to fuck your mouth
until he is completely spent and then he pulls out quickly, pushing you
away. You fall backwards, hitting your
head lightly on the table as you do. It
doesn’t hurt, really, but it’s enough to cause a loud thud. “Shit,” you mumble without thinking about
it.
“What the fuck was that?” you hear
Bobby ask forcefully. That’s it. It’s over.
He knows. Bret shoots you an
irritated glare.
“Nothing,” he lies. And then without explanation he turns off
the phone. And proceeds to throw it
across the lounge. It hits the far wall
and shatters. You wince. “What the fuck is your problem?” he shouts,
grabbing you by the arm and forcing you to his feet. “Do you want him to…”
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sure he didn’t know…”
“Bitch,” Bret spits out,
backhanding you suddenly. You manage to
stay upright. “Don’t ever fucking
interrupt me again.” He hits you one
more time and now you can feel the blood seeping out of the corner of his
mouth. His punches would be a lot less
painful if he didn't wear all those rings.
You hang your head, your hard cock now gone limp from shame. It amazes you that he has this kind of
power.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I won’t do it again.”
Bret laughs at you. And then he’s pushing you towards the
door. “I was gonna fuck you. But I don’t think you deserve it now. Get the hell out of my sight you worthless
piece of shit.” He opens the door, all
but throws you out of the lunge, and then slams the door behind you.
The tears come easily as you crawl
back into your bunk and wrap your arms around yourself. You hear Bret in your mind calling your
worthless over and over again. And you
believe him.