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Joshua whimpers in anticipation and fear as the touches grow firmer. He begs his body to do something, anything, instead of just standing there frozen up against the cold wall on his bare torso. But it’s not like he has any space to move. Hugo’s insurmountable strength holds him in place and the only thing Joshua can do is to pathetically beg him to stop under his breath as he stifles the moans bubbling in his throat. He lies through his teeth, trying to convince Hugo (and himself) that his big brother will arrive at any moment.
It’s a fruitless effort, and it only makes Hugo more aggressive and impatient than before. The rough hand fondling Joshua between his legs trails back until it reaches his ass. Hugo spreads his cheeks apart and presses a thumb forcefully against Joshua’s entrance, and Joshua inadvertently grabs onto the bookshelf for support as he nearly stumbles from his knees buckling from the sensation. A few of his books slip out from under his grasp and fall to the floor with a loud slap. Joshua cries out but quickly bites down on his lips. Because as Hugo said, the walls of the office are quite thin and the neighboring professors may discover Joshua’s perversion should he make it so evident. It’s way too late for anyone to be on the grounds but himself and the security officer currently assaulting him, but Joshua doesn’t take any chances of being spotted or heard by stragglers. This stays an intimate affair.
“Hugo, please… Please stop…” he begs just above a whisper, with fat drops of tears welling up in his eyes. He wishes Hugo would take notice and perhaps feel enough pity to let go of his prey, or at least kiss him so that having fingers shoved up his ass raw feels a little loving and consensual. In any case, Joshua wonders why the man who was always so kind to walk him across the dark campus at the end of a particularly long day would be doing this to him. Hugo had always been a little touchy, like stroking his back and trailing his hand too low against Joshua’s waist while escorting him, and admittedly Joshua never drew a boundary with the older man because he liked the risqué of it all… He liked when Hugo “accidentally” grazed his fingers over his bottom and was apologetic about it, and sometimes Joshua would tease by subtly returning the touches on his arms or shoulders telling him “it’s okay” before slipping into his car and driving away. These innocence-coated exchanges made Joshua feel incredibly powerful, wanted, and pretty, specifically because he also fantasized about the different ways he’d reject Hugo when the advances ultimately deepen. But the possibility of things escalating to this had never crossed his mind (much). He knows he shouldn’t victim-blame, but maybe this time it really was his fault.
“It’ll be over soon, Professor. I promise you’re going to like it. Just be a good little boy for Daddy and spread your legs.”
Daddy? Typical old man fantasies. But it’s not like he has a choice but to listen. Hugo has enough strength to bend and mold Joshua’s body as he pleases, and a firm grip on his bare inner thigh is enough to make him spread himself farther apart. His slacks fall down lower from his knees from all the jostling until it pools at his ankles. Before he can beg again, he hears the sound of Hugo hocking behind him, a shot of warm spit hitting against his tailbone. Unable to speak, he closes his mouth. He feels nauseated instead, feeling reduced to nothing more than a urinal at best, frozen as Hugo presses the tip of his cock and smearing his fluid around before shoving himself in with a pleased grunt.
There’s no other way to describe the pain except that it just fucking hurts, like he’s being ripped apart from the inside by a hot iron rod. Joshua cries out but is quickly muffled by Hugo’s hand clamping over his mouth like a seal. He grips onto what he can as Hugo thrusts away, Joshua’s back arched up uncomfortably from Hugo pulling his entire head back with a deathgrip over his face. He tries to focus on the hand stroking his bare chest and less on the violence he’s being forced to endure in tandem. At least the fingers touching him feels gentle and loving. It’s almost even arousing, and he wants to convince himself that he’s just the protagonist of a bodice-ripper going through it for the first time.
“Your brother was coming, you said? So… Where is he? You’re always alone at this time of night,” Hugo mutters against Joshua’s ear between his grunts. “Bet he’d look at you different if he saw you like this. The things he’d probably do to his baby brother realizing he’s such a little whore.”
Yeah, imagine if Clive saw him this way and did absolutely nothing to help him but joined in instead and they took turns on his holes. That would be absolutely thrilling humiliating.
It’s not long until Joshua is a drooling mess slobbering over Hugo’s hand and can only respond in more silenced cries. He prays for there to be a moment where this starts feeling good, but that mercy never comes because this isn’t a romance novel. So how long has it been? About an hour now? Two? Perhaps they spent the whole night together already. He couldn’t tell anymore in the delirium. The assault goes on for long enough that Joshua’s limbs turn numb and his body less rigid. He essentially gets fucked into becoming a compliant rag doll. A good boy who behaves and bends over for his master, crying and all but thumb-suckling in silence, just like Hugo wanted.
He feels it, finally, after what feels like ages. Hugo finally empties himself inside him and Joshua feels the grip on his face and body loosen. He immediately falls to the floor, head thudding against the wall on his way down. He sits in a pile, dazed and confused, barely comprehending his duty when Hugo rubs his cock against Joshua’s wetted lips. He tears up again but still opens his mouth, because at this point, what good would it do to refuse him? He’d probably just get raped again, if not something worse. Mouth agape, hands clasped over his exposed groin, he whimpers and coughs as Hugo fucks his mouth effortlessly. Hugo doesn’t seem to mind that Joshua’s lips aren’t even properly pursed around his cock most of the time, so long as he was suckling from time to time. Hugo eventually pulls out and wipes the rest of the mess over Joshua’s flushed cheeks. A hand cups him firmly under the chin, pulling his gaze up towards Hugo. But he can only focus on the flaccid cock hanging inches away from his face. Even peripherally, he can see how girthy it is. It’s a wonder how Hugo made it fit in his ass.
“What do you say?” Hugo asks, to which Joshua responds without missing a beat.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Satisfied at the answer, Hugo lets him go. Joshua stares aimlessly at Hugo, silently watching as Hugo tucks himself back in, zips up his pants, and monologues about his plans to continue frequenting Joshua’s office going forward and that Joshua will need to make himself available. He nods in agreement. Even after it all, Joshua still doesn’t feel completely sure about what just happened. All he knows is that the taste left on his tongue continues to spread in his mouth and down his throat and it leaves him feeling sicker than he was before. He watches as Hugo leaves and wishes he would have at least closed the door behind him. But Joshua no longer really cares, because whatever decency he had was robbed tonight. Should a few more strangers see him and prey on him it wouldn’t make a difference. But the halls outside stay silent and safe and dark, and Joshua finally musters up the strength to straighten out his shirt and vest, and slowly pull his underwear and pants back on. He still feels too weak to stand just yet, so he stays down to collect the books strewn on the floor and stacks them back into the lowest platform—one by one in no particular order.
He wipes away the tears and cum off his face with the edges of his sleeves, immediately looking down in disgust and frustration at the realization that his “nice” clothes are now stained with evidence of Hugo’s adoration. He whimpers as he grips the edge of his desk for support as he stands up, one leg after another, supporting himself from doubling over from the pain and soreness coursing through his entire body.
Joshua pulls out the chair tucked into the desk and plops down with a groan. He wishes he could melt into the leather and fall asleep but he still had work left to do. There were so many essays still left for him to grade before morning. He shakily thumbs at the pages, desperate to feel any interest in what students had to say about Giovanni’s Room, but he was too tired and too drunk on the scent and sensation Hugo left him with. On top of it all, Hugo only touched him enough to leave him somewhere between scared and sexually frustrated. But mostly he’s distracted by the open door, anxious that Hugo may walk back in at any time to fuck him again.
Joshua waits and waits. Hours pass. Nothing else happens for the rest of the night until he’s finished flipping through the whole stack of papers at 2:06AM. Everyone gets resounding marks on their essays, simply because he can’t really comprehend what he read anyway.
He finally gathers his belongings to leave. Coat and bag tightly in his arms, he walks down the dark hall with his breath withheld. He hates walking alone on school grounds in the dark, that he almost wishes Hugo was hiding in the shadows ready to lurch at him. If he wanted, he could accompany him to his car and then fuck him in an even tighter space than before. Maybe it’d feel better this time, with Hugo’s cum already inside him and all.
The encounter earlier must have really fucked with his brain into thinking he wants another chance, a better one to rewrite the fact that he didn’t actively enjoy it all the first time. He’d be prepared this time, behave and perform oral better, cry less and moan more. He’d get kisses this time.
After a while, he isn’t sure what he’s even fantasizing about anymore, but Hugo doesn’t appear on his entire walk, to his dismay relief. Joshua makes it to his car safely, and he realizes perhaps he had nothing to be afraid of in the dark after all. Just the monster who knows his way through it.