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Mindfuck

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He couldn’t remember how he got here. Then again, there was a lot that he couldn’t remember that he probably would have a scant twenty minutes earlier.

He looked at the man in front of him, all scars and pale flesh. What was his name? There was a vague hurt coursing through him, and his head ached, but he couldn’t focus on much else but the man’s face and the stretched, hot feeling of something inside him.

He tried to speak, but his voice wouldn’t come to him. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, and his jaw wouldn’t shut, leaving a trail of drool running down his chin to match the tears in his eyes, stained red with the blood leaking out of his nose. He was bleeding? He thought so, the iron taste in his mouth made him sure he was. Everything was too much, and he willed the world to go away, blinking as if that would dispel the nausea that curled in his stomach. The stranger shifted, he felt his back slip further down the wall, a moan rumbling out of him, quaking on a cry that sent more tears down his cheeks.

The man was speaking now. “Do you feel that, Seb? Does it feel nice?” There was a jostling feeling in his head, and he felt a few seconds of pure bliss, body bucking, the man holding his head steady. Who was Seb? He didn’t know anyone by that name. Wait. Who did he know? A mindless noise escaped his lips when the man’s scarred hips rolled into his. The gentle motions of something in his skull lulling him into pleasure again. He’d worry about it later. Right now, he was so tired and the man felt so good, his cock inside him, hands doing something magical to his brain. He felt himself drooling more, and relaxed into the feeling, more tears slipping down his cheeks, dripping onto his chest.

”Shhh, Seb, calm down. I have you now, I’ll take care of you.” He shuddered at the voice, feeling jolts of pleasure race through him. Was he crying? Now that the man had said it, he could hear quiet moans and sobs.  Was that him? Everything was so much, he didn’t know what to focus on. The man in front of him leaned close, smiling, and he felt a flash of fear somewhere deep inside. Why? The man was making him feel good, rocking his hips in deep grinds, doing whatever he was doing to his head. Why would he be scared? He tried to lift his hands to touch the man, but they wouldn’t move from his sides. He wanted to move his head, to see why his arms weren’t wrapping around the man in white, but the most he could do was shift his eyes down.

He felt a flash of pain in his head, then euphoria. His hands were shaking. Everything was shaking. His eyes rolled up, meeting the pale eyes of the man buried inside him. Scarred lips stretched into a smile. “Isn’t it fascinating how everything you’re feeling is localized... right... here..” He trailed off, searching, and there was squirming in his head. Why? Oh, he tried to speak again, but realized he had nothing to say. What was he thinking? Drool traced down his lips, over his chin and he swallowed mindlessly, eyes rolling back as the man began slamming his hips forward. He arched his back, and there was nothing but bliss. Then, nothing at all.