Chapter Text
"This is so much better than watching porn on a computer... Better than fucking that frigid old bitch of a wife I have, I'd say".
Robert whispered, rubbing his hands with lecherous greed, though he didn't do it quietly enough to keep Eddie from hearing. That fucking bastard was doing it on purpose. It wasn't part of the script, nor did it help the performance in any way or form: it was just filthy gratification meant for himself, and himself only.
"The hookers I pay every now and then won't do this type of stuff either. They just spread their legs, take the money and call it a day. You should feel lucky, boy. Back in my day, faggots like you and your friend did this for free, or for a plate of food. Or just so we wouldn't beat them to death".
Eddie's ears, throat, and blood boiled all at once. Even so, he didn't open his eyes or move a single muscle, preserving the flawless illusion of the performance, but the words kept hammering mercilessly inside his skull.
Faggot. Friend. Food. Beat. Death.
That fucking son of a bitch.
Under any other circumstance, Eddie would have gotten up and shattered that man's nose with a single punch, but he couldn't, it was far too risky. The money was already secured in the drawer, and he wasn't about to ruin their impeccable reputation over a piece of trash like him. Beyond the basic filthy talk that came with rough sex, no one had ever spoken about them like that, with such degrading words and even more incorrect assumptions. Their spectators paid for a customized performance and a pleasant climax, but the permission to disrespect him and his husband was not part of the package.
Speaking of his husband, why the hell was Richie taking so long to get into the room? He had been struggling with the window latch for over thirty seconds now. Eddie's blood ran cold. Perhaps the old bastard had locked the window without him noticing, so to keep Richie outside on purpose...?
To hell with the money, to hell with the reputation, he thought, his body tensing into a high-alert stance.
If the old man came anywhere near him, Eddie would pull the gun from under the bed and blow his fucking brains out, no question.
But when the window finally creaked open, his muscles immediately relaxed. His mind, however, kept violently churning with dark fantasies of revenge.
___________________________________________
Fucking piece of shit latch, Richie thought after finally forcing the window open. His heart was beating a mile a minute as he carefully pushed the glass just enough to slide his right leg inside, testing the floor. Truth be told, with his long legs, it didn't take much effort.
Once he slipped completely into the room, he blinked several times to help his eyes adjust to the dim space. The ski mask he was wearing for maximum effect didn't help much, but he didn't take it off, not yet. It was too risky; someone could recognize him.
He immediately identified the dresser, tearing through it drawer by drawer with greedy hands, searching for valuables. The first three drawers were stuffed with clothes only, but he struck gold in the very last one, hidden deep at the back inside a stretched-out sock.
Eighty grand? In cash? Bingo.
Without a second thought, he snatched the stack of bills and shoved it into his jacket, his hands trembling with adrenaline. Talk about a stroke of luck! It was a massive score, a jackpot equivalent to two weeks of random muggings, if not more. He could take a nice vacation break now, he thought with a sly smirk.
He was just about to make his escape when his own greed got the best of him. Turning around to inspect the room in greater detail, he saw it. He saw the bed.
And then, he saw that round, perky ass, calling out to him.
That was clearly a guy in the bed, but a guy who had a dream of an ass, an ass that instantly made Richie's cock throb against his zipper.
His mouth watered, quite literally; he could feel the saliva pooling at the corners of his lips, threatening to drip down his chin.
Richie thought about it for a second, maybe two. Should he just leave and secure the cash? Was it really worth the risk of waking that guy up and having him call the cops...?
Eddie then shifted in his sleep, arching his back even further.
As if pulled by a magnetic force, Richie took slow, silent steps toward the side of the bed.
Eddie looked so vulnerable, so soft and warm in his bed... And so disgustingly fuckable.
Richie didn't even realize how or when he unzipped his pants, but his cock was already in his hand, hard and throbbing, being pumped with a frenzied urgency right next to Eddie pliant body. A series of muffled groans caught in his throat, but he swallowed them down with some difficulty.
Eddie was still fast asleep, his dark lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks with every breath, lips slightly parted as tiny snores escaped them. He looked so beautiful and so completely oblivious to the fact that there was a thick, veiny dick dripping with precum less than twenty centimeters away from his face.
Way too far for my personal taste, Richie thought as he took a step forward.
Pausing his frantic jerking for a fraction of a second, he shifted his hips slightly forward and, using his hand to guide himself, he dragged the puffy wet glans right across Eddie's lips.
Uff.
Eddie didn't even flinch.
He dragged it across them again, slower, taking his sweet time to feel the warmth of his breath and the incredible softness of his skin.
Still nothing.
A sick fascination took over Richie as he saw Eddie remain fast asleep, now with his lips completely glazed with his precum.
He couldn't help but imagine himself cumming all over that pretty face. Jesus fucking Christ, just thinking about it almost made him blow his load right then and there.
But no, he didn't want to cum just yet. That ass couldn't go unattended, it would be such a waste.
He would need to be rock-hard for that, though truth be told, he was already hard enough, his balls tight and screaming for release.
Taking another step forward, he stood directly next to Eddie's face and started slow, his movements cautious but determined to shove his dick into the mouth of that little sweet treat that fortune had so generously offered him. He would have to slip past his teeth first, that was true. It was a difficult task, but not impossible; this wasn't his first rodeo, and he suspected that it wouldn't be the first cock that cutie had in his mouth.
He pressed the thick, engorged head right against Eddie's lips and pushed slightly.
Eddie was still asleep.
Richie rubbed it in small circles, slowly parting his lips bit by bit, watching with evil satisfaction as every single millimeter disappeared into that exquisite wet heat.
A shiver of twisted pleasure shook him from head to toe, making his knees wobble dangerously before he began to move his hips back and forth very, very slowly. That shit felt like heaven, he couldn't believe his fucking luck. Eighty thousand dollars and the promise of a good shag in one single night, what could be better than that...?
Then, a soft hum from Eddie made his whole shaft vibrate. He wiggled slightly, and as he swallowed, his cheeks hollowed out, drawing the length just a bit deeper into his mouth.
With that, Richie lost the ounce of self-control he had left in him.
Placing one hand on the crown of Eddie's head he forced it all the way in and began to thrust in and out, bottoming out against the back of his throat with every single push. Eddie opened his eyes instantly, wide as plates at the sheer shock and the realization of what was happening. Every desperate attempt to scream for help was completely smothered and choked out by Richie's cock.
"Keep screaming, you little whore... feels so fucking good how your throat tightens up around me".
Eddie was fighting back, trying to push against Richie's thighs to force the intrusion out of his mouth, but the sudden shock didn't allow him to coordinate his movements with enough strength or precision. That was when Richie pulled out the switchblade, cold and gleaming in the half dark of the room, and pressed the sharp edge directly against the taut line of Eddie's neck.
"Keep sucking, or I swear to God I'll slit your fucking throat".
Eddie trembled violently, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't have much of a choice, he didn't want to die. The sudden rush of adrenaline had jolted him wide awake, and the edge of that knife felt too real...
Even if it wasn't.
He finally surrendered.
"I said 'keep sucking', you little piece of shit. You know you want this".
Eddie began to work his tongue, his face twisted with practiced and utterly fake disgust.
"Yeah, that's it - Richie approved with dark perversion as Eddie complied - Suck it good, you fucking slut. You love having a good, fat dick throbbing in your filthy whore-mouth, don't you? I can tell you know exactly how to please a man".
Fuck you, Richie, Eddie thought as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his own stiffened cock twitching in his underwear at the wicked pleasure of knowing himself taken so savagely. Oh my god, you're a filthy fucking bastard.
Richie abandoned the tentative thrusts and began to face-fuck him mercilessly, feeling his climax creeping up on him.
A couple of tears caused by the strain, the occasional retching and the intense overstimulation began to stream down Eddie's flushed cheeks.
"Oh, god, yes. Cry. Cry more, bitch. Cry while you choke on my cock like the pathetic whore you are. Fuck, this shit's gonna make me bust..."
From his chair, Robert watched in absolute ecstasy, jerking off furiously at the brutal spectacle unfolding right in front of his eyes.
Right before he reached his climax, Richie pulled out of Eddie's mouth with a loud wet pop. Keeping his tight grip on Eddie's hair and the blade pressed against his neck he crawled further up the bed, straddling him.
"P-Please...", Eddie begged between hiccups and sobs, lying flat on his stomach against the mattress, suffocated by Richie's crushing weight over him.
"'Please' what...? You want me to shove my dick up your ass already...? Damn, you're so desperate for cock it's pathetic".
He proceeded to tie Eddie's hands behind his back using his white t-shirt, now torn to shreds, and then moved onto cutting Eddie's underwear, the last remaining garment he had on, leaving his bare ass completely exposed.
Eddie heard Robert's wet hiss from the shadows, followed by the disgusting sound of his precum squelching as the old man jerked his dick even harder.
God, he fucking hated that piece of shit.
He wanted that bastard to just cum already and leave, but surprisingly, Robert was managing to stay right on the edge.
Eddie had stretched himself out and used obscene amounts of lube beforehand so Richie could drive into him in one single thrust. The realism of the performance wouldn't allow any other extra preparation.
As Richie kneaded his butt cheeks, squeezing and parting them with mocking admiration, he kept spitting out filthy, degrading words that only made Eddie get harder, soaking the mattress beneath him with his own leaking fluid.
"Gonna have so much fun with you tonight..."
He spat a thick glob of saliva right onto Eddie's pink pucker, making Eddie squirm underneath.
"... I'm gonna rape this little whore-hole of yours and leave it gaping and full of my cum. Gonna empty my balls in it over and over until you can't walk straight... You'll be leaking with me for days".
Eddie began to writhe harder and shriek from pure excitement, his body thrashing so violently to repress his moans of pleasure that Richie had to brace himself to the headboard just to keep from losing his balance.
"NO! NO! PLEASE, LET ME GO, I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT...!"
"Shut the fuck up".
"HELP, PLEASE, SOMEONE HE-"
Eddie's desperate cries were instantly smothered and cut short by a big, tight ball of fabric, more specifically, the stretched-out sock that had just been holding the eighty thousand dollars, which Richie brutally shoved deep into his mouth to gag him.
"You don't wanna shut up the easy way? There you go. Just try not to choke yourself to death".
Eddie kept thrashing, conveniently grinding his own aching hardness against the sheets. His shrieks were completely muffled by the sock, which was quickly growing damp with his saliva, stuffed so deep and tight that he couldn't possibly spit it out.
Ah, fucking Richie. Couldn't he have picked a fucking clean sock for this...?
With one last glob of spit for good measure, Richie shoved his cock inside him in a single push. It went in with relative ease, but it still ripped another suffocated scream from the very depths of Eddie's chest.
"Yeah, that's it... - Robert whispered - Split that faggot's ass wide open..."
What the fuck.
Richie, balls deep in the performance as he was, truly seemed to not have heard him. It was as if Robert was specifically focused on humiliating Eddie and Eddie only, but Eddie was absolutely fed up of his bullshit. His muffled screams weren't from pain anymore, nor were they just from pleasure. It was pure rage.
Well, and pleasure, too.
Richie began to pump into him, the bed groaning and the headboard slamming against the wall with brutal force.
"Uff. I can feel your ass milking my cock like crazy... You love this, don't you? Disgusting whore. Begging to be railed, giving your filthy hole to a stranger so easily..."
Eddie's head was spinning so fast it was about to explode. He was torn right down the middle between the sheer bliss of the fucking, the mind-blowingly arousing humiliation from Richie, and the white-hot rage that miserable son of a bitch next to them was fueling. That bastard didn't deserve to be there, not for all the money in the world. He and Richie had college degrees, earned fair and square, and succesful careers each; they had numbers, strategies, and more stacked money in their joint account than Robert's miserable, repressed mind could ever even begin to calculate. They didn't do this for survival: they owned this, and that pathetic, misogynistic and homphobic bastard thought he was doing some charity mission with them. He was so, so wrong, and Eddie wanted him to know it.
Robert had to cum, but he had to cum in a way that would ensure he'd never, ever dare to contact them again.
And oh, God, Richie felt so fucking huge inside him right now. He kept Eddie's head yanked back, gripping his hair tightly and arching his back to force the eye contact. He had stripped off the ski mask at some point between the blowjob and this, and his beautiful, wicked face, brow furrowed, lips parted in heavy gasps as he split him in two, combined with his animalistic grunts, was the only thing Eddie wanted to see and hear in that moment. Eddie trusted Richie with his life, and Richie knew it. He would willingly follow him into the very depths of hell, Eddie would only have to ask.
Or suggest.
Gathering every single ounce of strength in his facial muscles and tongue, Eddie managed to spit out the ball of fabric. Richie was too lost in pure bliss to notice, especially since Eddie didn't scream for help again.
He didn't want to scream anyway. He was going to do something much, much worse.
While his body was being tossed back and forth like a ragdoll, he finally turned his face toward where Robert was sitting, right on the edge of his climax, but clearly holding back, his fist moving at a slow, agonizing pace.
It was time to teach that fucker a lesson he'd never forget.
Inhaling deeply, Eddie let out a broken, pleading moan, weaponizing a phrase of absolute destruction.
"Dad... Daddy, please help me... He's hurting me... He's too thick... He's stretching me so bad, dad..."
Richie stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening like saucers as Robert's mouth fell open in a silent scream of pure horror and morbid pleasure, his hand instantly starting to pump faster.
What... What the hell did he just say...? This wasn't... This wasn't in the script. Eds!? What the fuck is he on about?
Eddie sobbed again and rolled his hips back, wordlessly urging Richie to keep going.
Please, Richie, play along. I'll explain later.
Though dubious at first, Richie seemed to catch on immediately. Eddie wanted to inject a darker taboo twist to deliver the final blow to the old man. It wasn't part of the initial script, no, but he guessed that the man had probably asked Eddie for it while he was still outside, struggling with the window latch. He trusted Eddie's criteria, after all, and it wouldn't be the first time they improvised a little twist for the big finale. Without skipping a beat, he resumed his movements, thrusting with even greater violence.
"D-Daddy... Please... Why... Why are you jerking off...? Do you like watching how he fucks me...?"
Robert let out a choked groan, tossing his head back, utterly consumed by the sickening heat.
"Does this make your cock hard, daddy...? Do you like seeing your son's ass spread wide open...?"
Richie felt his dick swell tighter than it ever had before. He couldn't fucking believe what Eddie was saying, it was absolutely deranged, but at the same time, his arousal was mounting to unholy levels.
Edward Kaspbrak, you are a fucking psychopath. A deranged sick fuck. You're gonna fucking kill me... What are you doing...? God, I love you so much, you little demon.
"Yeah, he fucking loves it, boy - Richie growled against the nape of Eddie's neck, his voice dripping with arrogance - Your daddy is sitting right there in the dark, wanking himself while he watches me take turns with your mouth and your ass. He's not gonna help you, but he's gonna bust a big load of daddy milk for you".
The trap Eddie had successfully crafted on his own snapped shut, with the self-proclaimed owner of the show turned into a subordinate against his will. Robert was on the verge of a seizure as Richie's words and Eddie's broken pleas for help slammed through his skull straight into his brain like heavy bricks, shattering the invisible wall that kept his voyeurism in a total state of detachment.
He had been dragged by the throat right into the middle of the crime scene; he wasn't just a witness to a random sexual assault: in the sickening fantasy he'd built up in his mind to wank himself to, he was now also a silent accomplice to the violation of his "son".
A suffocating wave of guilt washed over him, but his body was betraying his morality with scorching, sadistic perversion. The explicit words and visuals were a shock far too potent for his deranged and repressed subconscious. He was drowning in the guilt, but the fantasy was so twistedly arousing that he couldn't help his fist from pumping his length faster, pushing him toward the most intense orgasm he'd ever experienced in his life.
With one last pathetic grunt, Robert broke. He came in his own hand, raging spurts of cum staining his expensive designer trousers, his body shaking uncontrollably.
Right behind him, Richie couldn't hold back anymore either, thrusting deep inside Eddie one last time and emptying himself there, filling his husband's slick heat with a thick, burning load of spunk.
For a long minute, the only sound in the room was the ragged, heavy panting of the three men, coming especially loud from the chair in the dim corner.
Richie slowly pulled out and sat back on his heels, a few sparse strands of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was about to open his mouth to speak when he saw Robert scrambling out of his seat after cleaning himself up, hastily zipping up his pants, adjusting his jacket, and refusing to make eye contact with either of them, particularly with Eddie.
Oh, just look at how the tables have turned, you old freak.
Still with his hands tied, Eddie rolled over, lying on his back and grinning widely at him, his chest expanding with a wicked sense of victory. Unable to keep his eyes away from him, Robert's face burned with pure shame as he stood still right in front of the door, shaking like a leaf, fists clenched tightly not to attack, but to defend the last shreds of dignity he had left.
"T-Thank you. Uh... Don't... Don't ever contact me again".
And so he bolted out of the bedroom, running away from his own sick reflection. A few seconds later, the distant roar of his sports car tearing away at full speed announced his departure, echoing through the quiet of the night before fading into nothingness. The silence in the room felt especially loud then.
Richie snapped out of it and crawled forward, seemingly baffled and confused.
"Eds? - he breathed out as he untied Eddie's wrists with urgency - Are you okay? Please, talk to me. Did I hurt you...?"
"I'm good, Rich. My jaw hurts a bit, but it's bearable - Eddie sighed, relishing the warmth of Richie's load sloshing inside him - You were amazing, as always..."
"But what the hell happened? Why did he storm out like that...? Did I miss a cue or something? Did I fuck up...?"
Eddie chuckled while rubbing his chafed wrists, and wriggled under Richie's tender caresses, the aftercare special to help him relax back to normal and soothe his muscles.
"Not at all, Rich. I just... decided to improvise a little".
Richie opened his eyes wide, stopping his massages for a moment.
"So the 'daddy, help me' thing was your idea!?"
"He called us slurs, Richie - Eddie's expression darkened as he explained - He was talking about how back in his day people like us did this for food and to avoid being beaten to death".
"He... he said that... when, how-?"
"Before you broke in. The guy was a fucking cunt, so I just wanted him to feel disgusted with himself without risking our business. He wanted degradation? He got it. I just... made sure the degradation was his, too. He did bust a big load, so I assume we won't receive any formal complaints".
Richie stared at him mouth agape for about five seconds, his expression unreadable. Then, a wide smile broke across his face as he reached forward to trap Eddie in a tight, warm hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck, peppering the skin with mushy, adoring kisses.
"Edward Frank Kaspbrak, you're a terrifyingly beautiful, sadistic little fuck. God, I love you so fucking much it's gonna be the death of me..."
"I was just protecting our brand - Eddie murmured with pride, closing his eyes at the warm sensation of Richie's lips all over him - And us, most of all. We won't hear from that son of a bitch ever again".
"Brilliant - Richie insisted against the warmth of Eddie's soft skin - Absolutely brilliant. You know, I would have actually punched him in the face, but your idea... Infinitely better".
The eighty grand in his jacket was okay, but having a protective, genius mastermind for a husband was the real jackpot.
"Now, Rich. This room is a fucking mess, a true crime scene - Eddie laughed softly - What about you take me to the main suite and we take a nice warm bath...? We have all the weekend ahead of us to be freaks together. Just the two of us".
Richie felt his heart swelling impossibly big in his ribcage and nodded, hooking his arms to hold Eddie tightly against his chest to carry him out of the bedroom.
"Deal. Just the two of us".