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gio-vitale · 5 years

Text

Control || Gio&Atticus

Date: January 8th

Location: Gio’s Suite

Summary: Following the events of the New Years Eve Ball, Gio takes a small business trip away to get control of his anger. Upon returning however, he still feels rage over his lack of control. He decides to summon Atticus in order to relieve some of that anger and gain his sense of control back.

Warnings: Abuse, non-consent, violence, blood

@voulez-vousatticus

Atticus: Gripped out of his bed, headphones yanked out, and a phone clattering to the floor, Atticus let out a stream of curses as he was practically dragged out of his cell, and up the stairs. He didn’t really know who he was coming up to, who wanted him, because most of the people he knew in the suites were his friends - most moved out by now. Atticus was running through his mind any of the possibilties, but nothing came up. He was held up by his upper arms, practically lifted off the ground if not for his toes, and one of the guards knocked on the door, which was a lot nicer of a sound than he was expecting. Atticus stood there, unsure who was about to be on the other side, but if they requested this kind of force, he was going to need a stronger resolve.

Gio: Gio had been reeling ever since the event. The spell that had given him feelings he’d rarely felt before resulted in a loss of control. He said things that he didn’t mean that held far more weight that he’d been willing to give. And then there was Elliot. Poor drunken Elliot that had run his mouth while Gio was in that state, making him practically beg for the boy’s forgiveness. Just the thought of it all made his blood boil. But he couldn’t take it out on Elliot, not yet anyways. He’d spent a few days going back to Vegas to blow off some steam, but the lingering anger was still there. Sitting in his suite, he argued on the phone to a contractor for one of his new businesses back home. With his frustration level rising, he knew he’d need a fix. An idea flashes across his eyes as he calls the guards, asking the go and fetch a particularly aggravating slave, and to bring him to his suite, gentleness not required. It didn’t take long before there was a knock on his door. He moves to answer it, opening the door swiftly, looking over the boy with bored eyes. “Good, you’ve brought him.” He says to the guards. He shifts allowing them room to enter his suite. “Take him to the playroom and secure his hands and feet to the ceiling and floor cuffs on the far side of the room.” He says. “I have a few calls to make, you can leave when he’s restrained.” He nods, waving a casual hand towards the door before pulling out his phone again. The guards drag Atticus to the playroom, cuffing his hands forcing them upwards, and securing his feet to the ones on the floor. There was a small amount of slack allowed, but the boy would be forced to remain there, spread out like a star, until Gio was ready for him.

Atticus: Of course. This asshole might have been the only one that was still in the suites that seemed to hate him. And Atticus always thought he was somewhat good at first impressions; he’d have to recount that. He looked warily back and forth at all of them, eyes widening in both fear and annoyance at getting strung up in a stranger’s playroom, something quite low on his to-do list. “Are you kidding me?” he blurted as he was dragged away. His pleading and complaints fell to deaf ears and he just stood there, with bruised limbs from their manhandling and he kept pulling at the restraints. Once they left, he just hung his head. No one’s ever done this to him, to memory, and his kinkier side would have thought differently about this, in another situation, so he just huffed and stared distantly at the door.

Gio: Gio almost smiled at the reaction and the fear he felt radiating off the boy. Atticus was the very definition of why Gio looked down on humans; annoying, impulsive, zero respect for those superior to them. He watches as the guards drag the boy off, and he goes about his business, making another call. He waves a thank you to the two guards as they leave, handing them each a generous tip, thankful that at least the help in this place was adequate. Gio too his time, knowing the anticipation was something that only helped build fear. After about thirty minutes, he hangs up his final call, making his way to the playroom. He wasn’t too fond of the provided room, looking forward to when his new place would be done and all of his own equipment would be there. But for now, under the circumstances, this would do. He looks at the boy, pathetically hanging his head and gives him a cold stare. He takes his time slipped off his suit jacket, laying it carefully across the back of a chair before moving to his sleeves, slowly unbuttoning them and rolling them up to his elbows. Only then did he move forward towards Atticus, eyes looking him over like he was nothing more than a piece of meat. Yes, he figured if he was here on the island, he might as well take advantage of the slaves they so graciously provided. “Welcome back.” Gio says, his voice low and cool as he brings a finger to the bottom of Atticus’s chin, forcing it up so he had to look the older man in the eyes.

Atticus: He didn’t even know how long it was from by the time he was strapped down there to now. Atticus might have dozed off just a bit - what else was there to do? - and was rudely awakened when the door shut. He had plenty of time to look over the stuff that the room provided. It had all the same standards as the others: that giant X thing, a bed, a spanking bench, a cage, many things to hit him with, many things to stick up his ass, and what he thought was a tail and ears. Yeesh. Not knowing what this guy was into besides blood and darkness from experience, he just had to wait. When the djinn entered, finally, he opened his eyes and blinked a little, watching Gio slink around the room and letting him move his head. Atticus just looked at him with a dead stare, waiting and watching. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Gio: Gio looks at the other with cold blue eyes, tilting his head slightly, fingers moving to grip his chin, the slightest sneer playing on his lips. This anger wasn't for Atticus. No, while the boy in front of him was annoying, his anger was fuelled towards Elliot, and the loss of control he'd felt a the event. A loss he hadn't had in a very long time. "What no smart ass remarks today?" He says, his quiet and cold, as if he was a hunter stalking his prey. This prey, however was strung up and ready for him. "I haven't broken your spirit already, have I?" He shakes his head slowly, egging the boy on. He was angry, he wanted some kick back. He wanted to beat the life out of the boy while he was fighting for it. "I knew you were pathetic.." He lets Atticus's chin drop, lips curling and nostrils flaring slightly with a disgusted expression. "..but this is just sad, even for a human."

Atticus: “Well, I can’t say them on command ,” he said, with an innocent shrug. No blindness today? he wanted to ask. Atticus jolted his body a little bit, to try to shake him off, being called pathetic insulting him. “Shut up,” he spat. “What do you want from me, a song and dance; you tied me up like a fucking pig.” Atticus yanked on his restraints some more, once it became glaringly obvious that it wasn’t going to be something that enjoyable for him; all he had to do was look at his face. He wasn’t a complete idiot. Truth be told, he wanted to keep it somewhat civil out of fear he’d lose another sense again. Atticus didn’t let his head drop when the other let it go. “Is this all you brought me here for, for a villainous monologue? If so, it could use a pipe organ.”

Gio: Gio takes a small step back, crossing one arm over his chest, resting his fingers by his lips as he watches Atticus struggle a little, reacting to his words with a small smile. "While a song and dance would surely be entertaining." He hums, looking the boy up and down. "I have other things planned for tonight." He shakes his head, there was the brat he'd run into a little while back. Atticus was the type of person that made him grit his teeth, requiring restraint to keep himself from choking the life out of the boy right then and there. He stares at him hard for a moment before glancing up at the restraints that kept Atticus's arms stretched above his head. He conjures a vision for the boy, running electricity through the restraints, shocking Atticus with a fairly high intensity.

Atticus: And there was that look, that general kind of eye sweep that the more brutal masters did, the ones that made him want to close his legs and scurry off somewhere else. Atticus swallowed and did his best not to let it show on his face how nervous the other just looking at him was making him. There seemed to be something of a stalemate then, as Atticus watched Gio watch him, and he did his best to hold something of his ground. He couldn’t even remember the last time a master strung him up like this, so helpless, and it made him antsy. Then it hit him, the high voltage and his body arched. A screaming hit the air and he realized too late it was him. Atticus pulled desperately against the restraints, begging silently to be let go or at least put out of his misery. Tears threatened to fall over and he wasn’t going to stop them if they did. What the hell did he do to this guy?

Gio: A glimmer of a smile twitches at the corners of Gio's lips as he watches the voltage run through the restraints, hitting Atticus, causing him to let out a beautiful, instinctual scream. Gio breathes in deep, taking in the thick waves of fear that rolled off of him. He found that torture produced a very particular kind of fear, and while it was easy to produce, Gio almost found it a little too bland. But he was enjoying it nonetheless, his sociopathic tendencies being fed more than anything. "Dance monkey, dance." He says with a low voice before he drops the current running through Atticus, making it as though it had never been there in the first place.

Atticus: Atticus just hung there limply, his wrists aching from the strain and responsibility of keeping him upright, and his body quaked and quivered, screams of his echoing in the room. He couldn’t even cry out anything intelligible; nothing to get him to end it. His words barely registered, but made him pissed nonetheless. Everything on this godforsaken island only solidified how much of a plaything he was to everyone on it. Finally the current was dropped and he slumped, letting in and out shaky breaths, feeling almost phantom spasms. Panting and practically shivering, he looked at him like the wary animal he was, not quite wanting to make eye contact but trying to search for any meaning behind this - there had to have been more than just casual ‘fun’. It was just too intense, already. “Please don’t do that again,” he rasped. He had stocked up unpleasant memories of being electrocuted from his early days here and it was a kind of pain he was not trying to relive - especially not in front of this man.

Gio: Gio could practically feel the anger boiling up inside him. Sure he'd gone back to Vegas for a few days to blow off some steam, take it out on those he didn't have to worry about keeping alive. But the moment he'd stepped back onto the island, much of it returned, especially after his 'date' with Elliot. He didn't like feeling that the boy had the upper hand in their relationship, but at the event, he had. Gio had practically been begging for his forgiveness, and just thinking about that makes his stomach turn in disgust. Nothing about his actions had anything to do with Atticus, he was just a poor excuse for a stand in--Gio taking advantage of what the island had to offer and exploiting it for his own needs. "But it is so much fun to watch you dance around like that." He says, sending a few more after shocks through Atticus's body, far less intense than the first, but enough to send him squirming before he called them off. A heavy silence falls over them again, Gio lost in his own thoughts that produced this torture, using Atticus to regain the control he'd felt he lost. One moment he was standing still, observing. The next his hand had come up, striking Atticus across his jaw with a strong backhand. He used his speed to catch the other off guard, making sure the hit was enough to rattle him down to his very core, but not enough to break his jaw, but only leave a deep and blooming bruise.

Atticus: “No it’s not,” he rasped, shaking his head before the rest of his body started to shake of its own accord, from the shocks in his body. They still hurt like hell, but not as bad as they were before, thankfully. He wished he could pass out. Atticus went limp again, breathing heavily and somewhat happily, now that the shocks were gone. He kept his head cast down, eyeline towards the other’s legs, bracing himself for anything... except he was waiting so long for an action to be taken that he looked up at him in confusion, only for his face to flare up in pain. Atticus cried out, and realized annoyingly that he bit his tongue - hard. He spit blood out onto the floor by the other’s feet. “Wouldn’t you rather have someone that can take more than me?” he pleaded.

Gio: "Well, not for you, I'm sure." Gio muses, looking at the boy's fragile frame twitching and shaking. It was almost too easy to break him, but then again he was human, so what could Gio have expected? It was fulfilling nonetheless, feeding from the boy's fear, watching him try to figure out what was coming next. Brow's raise when Atticus spits blood onto the floor, and Gio shakes his head with a small tsk. "You're making a mess." He says with mild annoyance. Gio steps forward, towering over Atticus, grabbing a fist full of the back of his hair, pulling his head back so the boy was forced to look up at him. "You're all talk, aren't you? Just a smart mouth with no spine to back it up?" He sneers, using his free hand to punch the kid in the gut with significant force.

Atticus: Atticus looked up at him with a glare. “ My bad,” he exaggerated, as if the djinn wasn’t the reason behind his pain. His limbs felt weak and shaky and it didn’t take much effort for Gio to pull him up. Atticus gasped and did his very best to not make it so the other was pulling too hard. At least he was clothed, that was better. A rough noise of pain escaped him at the sledgehammer fist punching him and he couldn’t even double over to help ease it. “Sounds about right,” he wheezed. Atticus’s legs shook, one kicking a little more to give himself some kind of slack and in a baseline, growing panic. If this was only the beginning, he was about to really be in for it. He wasn’t like those others, who knew how to keep a magical straight face whenever someone terrorized them. He was young and impressionable and had likely been exposed to less dangers than his older and mostly supernatural fellow slaves. So instead, he was left with just shaking with the hope that somewhere in the man’s chest cavity that there’d be even something that looks like a heart.

Gio: Gio lets out a small breath of a laugh through his nose, watching the boy struggle, his body already shaking like a leaf. Sure, Atticus was right, Gio could have found a supernatural to take his anger out on, but there was something so delicious in the way that Atticus looked, and the way fear tasted from a fragile human. He grips Atticus's hair a little tighter for a moment, looking at him with a piercing stare. He breaths the fear and the panic in for a moment, relishing the taste. He lets go of the boy's hair, thumb moving to run along the boys jaw, looking at the bruise that was already purpling. He drops his chin, hitting Atticus again, this time a swift punch to the nose, hearing a satisfying crack, knowing he'd broken the other's nose. He doesn't give Atticus a moment to react before he back hands him again across the cheek, taking his anger out on Atticus. Pulling his hand back after the last blow, he takes his opposite thumb, running it along his knuckles where some of Atticus's blood shimmers. Bringing the thumb to his lips he licks off the blood for a moment, tilting his head. "Not bad, for a human."

Atticus: He let out some noises of pain, little 'ows' escaping him, straining upward on his toes so that the pressure on his head wasn't too awful. Atticus gives him a pleading look, trying his best, and maybe it worked because he was released. He did freeze up a little bit and kept his eyes locked on the other, trying to avoid even blinking. He did have a split second of time to brace himself and screamed out when he felt his nose break. "FUCK!" God, it was just healing from when Peter Dougan broke it. Only a few seconds later did it register he was hit a second time, and he breathed heavily, sniffling and blinking back tears that were starting to slowly stream down his face anyway. "You're a psychopath," he breathed, looking at him with an unabashed fear.

Gio: The way Atticus was reacting made Gio feel better, more in control. He smiles a little watching the blood stream down the boy's nose, enjoying the way his face twists up in pain. It was a beautiful sight really. He takes a step away, eyeing his handy work for a moment. He could only chuckle when Atticus calls him a psychopath. It wasn't the first time he'd been labelled as such. He turns away now, grabbing a hand towel off of a shelf not far to his right, slowly cleaning the blood off of his hands, looking down at his white shirt. Good, the human hadn't gotten and blood on it, he thinks to himself, slowly cleaning his hands. He takes his time, letting Atticus hang there, making sure his hands were good and clean before turning back to the boy with a harsh stare. "Well it looks like you've been proven to be quite useful." He says, moving towards Atticus, walking around him. He pauses for a moment before starting to undo the cuffs on his hands. "However we're not quite done yet." He says, releasing both wrists. "I expect you can manage to undo the bottom cuffs yourself?" He asks with a raised brow, crossing his arms, knowing full well he wouldn't be the one bending down to release the boy.

Atticus: Atticus leaned away, wiping blood on his shoulder from his nose, because obviously he couldn't sniffle it back up. Oh god, and he's laughing - yes, definite psychopath. He watched him with extreme care and very minimal blinking, and frowned when he came back over. "Thanks?" he mumbled, confused, and pressing himself back into the wall some more, wanting to keep as much of a distance as he could. When he was released, his stomach clenched and he lurched forward onto Gio, his hands scrambling on his shirt for purchase before finally just falling to the ground, his legs uncomfortably spread, his face close enough to kiss the other's shoes. He was on all fours, trying to reach behind and undo the cuffs. Atticus was starting to panic, hurt and scared and he just fell into the guy, that was grounds for getting strung up by the ankles, right? "I'm trying," he said, his voice wavering. It was hard, when his hands were shaking the way they were.

Gio: Gio moves to turn when suddenly the boy is colliding with him, hands and a bloody face planting against his white shirt, staining it. He reacts quickly, pushing the boy off of him in disgust. His nostrils flair in anger, more visible than before, and his teeth clench looking down at his soiled shirt that he'd made sure to keep clean. "You disgusting piece of filth." He sneers, waving a hand to warp reality, making the cuffs around Atticus's ankles disappear, now too impatient and pissed off to wait for the pathetic human to get the cuffs off himself. Swooping down, he grabs Atticus by the back of his neck, pulling him to his feet, swiftly moving him forward towards a bench that he could prop him over. He shoves the boy towards it, forcing him to bend over the bench before he uses his free hand to tear the boxers away from Atticus with force, leaving him completely naked. He takes a moment, shifting his hand around to the front of Atticus's neck, pulling him upwards so his back is pressed against Gio's chest, his lips moving to the other's ear. "Unfortunately, after that little stunt, this will be less than pleasurable for you." He sneers before pushing Atticus back down, taking a step back to start undoing the bloodied shirt. "Move, and I swear to god you will regret it." He says as he takes off his shirt.

Atticus: “I’m sorry!” he wheezed, panicking, his breath picking up and his trembling hands working faster to get himself out. “I’m sorry, no, I got—” Atticus yelped in pain and surprise, stumbling along with him and grunting at being pushed over the bench. He felt the pull and snap of his boxers being torn away and he whined a little, shivering in fear and cold. His whole body shook and he could feel hot tears really threatening to fall, as he was lurched up and way too close to the djinn. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” he blubbered, yelping when he was pushed down but kept himself still. Atticus was crying, feeling totally weak and helpless. “Please, don’t do it, I’ll do anything else, please,” he begged, hanging his head in defeat and breathing heavily, just trying to keep himself somewhat upright. Atticus didn’t think he could move, even if he tried. “I didn’t mean to, I just fell!”

Gio: Gio grits his teeth at the incessant whining coming from the other's mouth. At least he was small and pliant, moving easily against Gio's will, remaining where he was told. The apologies and excuses fell on deaf ears, the damage done and the anger that he thought he'd relieved was bubbling back over at a rapid rate. "God, just shut up." He says, his voice both calm but booming at the same time. He didn't bother listening to the begging or the words Atticus was saying.This was Gio in his purest and most selfish form, and at this moment, all he cared about was what he wanted. He shrugs the shirt off his shoulders, tossing it over to the side of the room, annoyed by how the boy had ruined it. "Shut. Up." He says through gritted teeth, undoing his belt and sliding it off. Atticus was lucky that spanking wasn't really his thing, or he'd likely be left with some fairly large welts and bruises on his rear end. No, right now he had only one thing in mind, and that was the strain in his pants that he'd gotten from beating the boy. The power he felt, the control, it made him feel good, and he was ready to ride that high. Undoing his pants, he slid them down and off quickly, freeing himself until he was naked as well. A hand moves to grasp his own length, breathing in slowly, feeding from the fear that huge potent in the room. He uses his power to vision a thin layer of lube over his length, enough to allow himself an easier entry without too much resistance, but not enough to spare Atticus the pain of no preparation. He moves forward, splaying a hand on the small of Atticus's back, forcing him to stay down, and bent over the bench. He aligns himself, knowing their size differences would allow him a considerable amount of pleasure, and a considerable amount of pain for Atticus. He pauses for a moment, smirking, letting tension build for the boy before slowly pressing into him, not too quickly, but fast enough to not really allow him time to adjust in anyway.

Atticus: Atticus ducked away and stopped quickly. He was too scared to actively try and get himself out of the situation and he believed Gio when he said he would really regret things if he ran. He already regretted enough in the past year, and this was certainly not helping. "I'm sorry," he mumbled again, softly crying a little more when he heard the belt slide off, and he clenched his fists together and braced himself for getting hit. Atticus hated this, he hated it so much. Why couldn't he have just been nice , what was the matter with him? Why did he have to tell everyone he met off, and give off such attitude? It was like habit at this point, he didn't think he could change it - he damn well wanted to try now, though. Maybe he would just start to get off easier, not be so prone to shit like this. He felt so humiliated. The hand on his back made him realize that something different was about to happen, and he let out a little sob, shaking his head rapidly. He could feel him, he could feel it pressing up against him and he stiffened, swallowing thickly and breathing quickly and just waiting. Atticus cried out loudly and leaned as forward as he could in the compromised position, nails digging harshly into the leather under him.

Gio: Gio had been taught by birth to be cold. He’d been raised on privilege and superiority, which only fed into the cruel sadistic nature passed down through the men in their family. There was no forgiveness, no second chances. The need to feed on fear and the decadent sweetness of it only solidified that, driving animalistic instincts of his species. Atticus was nothing more than a pawn in his game, not even specifically targeted, just there to use as he needed. A smirk twitches on Gio’s lips as he watches the boy try to shift forward, as if it would help, as if it could spare him from the fear and the pain. He lets out a low breath as he pushes into Atticus, relishing the tightness and the way the fear jumps off of him as he does so. His hands move, grasping harshly onto the boy’s bony hips, forcing himself forward until he was completely inside, skin meeting skin, with a low growl. He remains there for a moment, taking in more of the fear, feeling drunk off of his feast that was raising his cruel lust. Hips pull back slowly before driving forward with force, not caring how it could hurt Atticus. No at this point he was merely just a plaything for him to use till he was done with him. His own heart rate rose a little, repeating the motion, slamming into the boy harshly, one, two, three more times.

Atticus: He almost wished, for perhaps the first time in his life, he was gagged, so that he could have something to bite on while this happened; to give him something to do. Maybe throw in some ear plugs, too, so he didn't have to hear the noises Gio was making, or the gross sound of the other inside him, or skin slapping skin, or even his own cries. Of course now was when the other decided not to give him any visions, he had to stay aware for everything. Atticus stifled a cry when his hips were grabbed, practically already feeling the bruises start. His only clothing was ripped away from him, too, so when this was over, he had to deal with the shame of walking all the way back downstairs for clothes. He felt like he couldn't breathe, his chest tight from being pressed against the bench. Every time he was pushed forward by one of Gio's harsh thrusts, he cried out, practically ripping the leather he held onto. "Stop!" he wheezed.

Gio: Gio was enjoying himself, feeling pleasure from the boy's tightness, thrusting into him over and over again before slowing down considerably. He wasn't going to finish too quickly, planning to enjoy himself considerably. His eyes roll in annoyance at the boy's protests, the fear enjoyable but the whining was not. He leans forward slightly, moving one of his hands from the boy's hip to wrap around the front of his neck, pulling him harshly upwards, bucking his hips forwards into Atticus as he does so, theirs bodies flush for the moment. His large hand grips at the boy's throat, easily wrapping around it. He presses down, enough to cause discomfort, and block off his air supply. "I said, shut up." He growls into Atticus's ear, adding a little bit more pressure to his squeeze. He uses this new angle to rock his hips again, choking Atticus as he does so.

Atticus: It was going on for forever and all he could really do was stare down at the ground below him, rocking as he was nearly pounded into. He watched the ground with blurry vision and saw shiny, little dots appeared on the floor - and he could only assume they were coming from his eyes. Atticus let out a garbled cry as he was brought upwards, his hands immediately flying to the hand around his neck, his fingers trying to go in between, to pry off. The cries were immediately stifled and he was trying to gasp for air instead. Atticus nodded quickly and harshly at him, frozen in fear to do anything else - one wrong move might be dangerous for him, who knew at this point. He was terrified. A little squeak emitted from him at the added pressure, and he continued to grasp at the hand.

Gio: A wicked grin plays on Gio's lips as he grips the boy's neck, wanting him to see stars and feel his head grow light as he thrusted into him. Gio loved the way the boy clawed at his hand, the fear swirling around them manically. He knew how long the other would be able to last before he started to pass out, and he made sure to grip only long enough for him to just start seeing the edges of his vision darkening before he let go, knowing he'd have some lovely looking fingerprint bruises on his neck. He doesn't give Atticus time to adjust before pushing him forward again, a hand splaying on his back, roughly forcing him against the bench as he thrusted into him with force, his breath hot and heavy as he felt his release quickly approaching. With the final few thrusts he lets out a small moan, pushing deep inside Atticus as he comes, holding it there for a moment, riding his high, eyes closing as he breathes in, taking some of the fear around them. He slowly lets that breath out, still inside Atticus, opening his eyes to look down at the boy, a faint look of annoyance on his face. His anger was dampened, the energy released and his body well fed. He pulls out harshly, still giving no care to the other's body, and shifts away. He takes his time walking over to his clothing, neatly folded as he'd left them. He starts by putting on his underwear and his pants, leaving himself shirtless, since his had been spoilt by the boy. Eyes lazily glance over to the other, as if he was nothing more than a used rag that Gio was now done with. "You can go now." He says, his tone almost bored, as if he was annoyed the other was still around. "And please remember to be mindful not to share anything from your time with me, I'd hate to have to do anything worse to you." He says, as if it would be such a burden to punish him.

Atticus: He had to let up, at some point, he was going to kill him! He couldn't breathe, and if he died, the other would be made a slave. It didn't seem like something he wanted to risk, but he quickly started second-guessing himself. He got weaker and weaker and a hand even dropped, slumping in Gio's grip a little before things became clearer and he gasped quickly, crying out at landing on the bench again. Atticus wasn't getting enough air, and he was gasping and trying his best, but when he was being pinned down on a bench, it made things so much harder. With the way his movements were becoming, more and more sporadic, he figured he was close. Meanwhile Atticus had never felt less aroused in his life. He let in and out a few shaky breaths, gasping like he's never breathed before. He grunted when Gio pulled out, and didn't move. He didn't think he could. His backside felt sticky and he hoped to god it was just the other's spend, not what he was afraid of it being. Atticus raised himself up on his arms, shaking heavily. "I'm trying," he said, in a voice just above whisper. His sobs had diminished some, but he was so unsteady. His mind was still trying to catch up. Looking down, he saw the tattered rags of his underwear and he just held it, close to him, to try and cover himself. He let out a noise of fear at Gio's last words and he shook his head profusely. "I-I won't. I promise, I'm not gonna say a word."

Gio: Gio busies himself with cleaning himself off, getting his pants on and such. He tosses the shirt with the smudges of Atticus’s blood in the garbage, knowing full well he could have given it to the naked boy who now had to find his way home. He rolls his eyes at the weak excuses that came from the boy’s mouth, giving him an annoyed look. He pulls out his phone, letting the cleaners know they’d need to come in tomorrow to tidy this room, he didn’t need the remnants of the humans blood and scent everywhere. “Good.” He says, eyes remaining on his phone, now pulling up the contact for his conference call. He leaves the room, not giving Atticus a second look, bringing the phone to his ear. “Yes, Marco, hello...” his voice drifts off as he makes his way to his office space, leaving Atticus naked, alone, and having to get himself back to the cells.

-end.

#( chat. ) || atticus carmine #tw:blood #tw:abuse #tw:non con #tw:rape #tw:sexual abuse

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