Peter’s eyes widen, but before he can try to wrap his mind around why Manhattan doesn’t want to execute him anymore all of a sudden, the man loosens the grip on his hair and tosses him over to the other man. Pennsylvania immediately starts to drag him away, but Peter manages a last, swift glance to MJ and Ned, who still seem desperate, but also somewhat hopeful regarding the change of events. He silently mouths ‘Love you’ before he’s forced up the stairs, around the corner and along a corridor. After about two minutes, the man motions him to go through a big, wooden door leading into an expensive looking office with a desk, a few chairs, four of them with armrests, and a leather couch.
“Go stand at the table, and don’t fucking move or talk.”
Peter gulps. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to try and explain what really happened, so he rather stays silent. Hopefully, Manhattan will give him a chance to explain himself…after all, he said he wanted to have a chat with him, right?
It takes about five minutes until the supposed boss of the captors comes back. He whispers something into Pennsylvania’s ear, who nods and walks towards Peter. “Move over to the radiator.”
The boy twirls around; underneath the window, which is hidden behind dark curtains, is indeed a radiator, but why would they want him to-
He winces when Pennsylvania pulls out a thick cable tie from the pocket of his overall but before he can even think about pleading with them, he’s already gripped by his hair once again and dragged over the floor mercilessly. Eventually, he’s smashed against the radiator, and a few seconds later, his hands are already tied behind his back, secured to the pipe so painfully tight they’ll probably go numb in minutes. Pennsylvania then exits the room, leaving Peter alone with Manhattan.
The boy can feel that the man is looking at him intently, sending a shiver down his spine. He shifts slightly, adjusting his hands as much as he can to be a little more comfortable, but he can hardly move. Peter flinches when Manhattan pulls one of the leather chairs forward and sits down directly in front of him. “I really hate teenagers, you know? You’re arrogant, ignorant, and most of all, fucking stupid.”
“P-please, I-I didn’t mean to-to cause trouble. I-I’m sorry.”
Manhattan gives a fake laugh. “You hit one of my men and tried to take away his weapon.”
He screams when Manhattan’s fist collides with the left side of his face so violently that his whole body is thrown to the right, with only the cable tie, cutting into his skin agonizingly, preventing him from falling over. Peter can taste blood in his mouth, and before he knows it, he’s sobbing again.
“I also hate liars, kid. Also, you ought to address me as sir when you’re speaking to me.”
“S-sorry sir. I… I did h-hit him, but only because he-he touched M-Michelle. I didn’t k-know they w-would try to overpower him.”
“Indiana touched who? Your girlfriend?”
“Y-yes, sir,” Peter says, feeling a little more confident. “S-she asked f-for some water, a-and when he g-gave it to her h-he touch her b-breast. He d-didn’t know I w-wasn’t sleeping, b-but when he p-pressed her down I…I k-kicked his legs and p-punched him. S-some of the others w-woke up and I d-don’t really know w-what happened t-then.”
“So you never meant to overpower him to escape?”
Peter almost sighed in relief. “N-no. P-please, sir, I-“
“Instead, you were playing the hero in an effort to ‘protect’ your girlfriend from what? Indiana touching her little girl boobs over a bra, shirt and jumpsuit? I bet she was totally into it.”
Peter whimpers and lowers his gaze. He didn’t expect the man to be this cruel. “I-I’m sorry, sir. It w-won’t happen again, I s-swear, please!”
“What’s your name?”
“P-Peter. Peter P-Parker, sir.”
“Peter Parker… I like that.”
Anxious, Peter raises his head. He gasps when Manhattan suddenly takes off both hood and mask, taking him completely off-guard. Piercing brown eyes are looking down at him, one just a tiny bit darker than the other, and the man’s sporting a neat, recently-trimmed goatee with only a few grey strings of hair, matching the color of his hair. Although Peter’s not gay, he’s quite certain the guy has a lot of suitors. “My name is Tony.”
Why would he...? When the man takes the gun from his holster, Peter thinks he knows. There’s no way Tony would tell him his name and show him his face if he didn’t intend to-
“Please!” Peter cries in despair, “P-please, sir, don’t do this. I-I’ll do anything you-”
He’s shut off by Tony unlocking the gun and forcing it into his opened mouth. The boy lets out a muffled scream when the cold metal is pressed down on his tongue and almost makes him gag. He tries to withdraw his head, but Tony grabs his chin with his free hand, holding him in place.
“Do you promise you’ll be a good boy from now on? That you’ll do whatever I’m telling you to do?”
Peter tries to say yes, but he can hardly speak. “-es, bh-l-eez-!”
Spit is gathering in the corners of his mouth, slowly running down to his chin and onto Tony’s hand. Suddenly, the gun is taken out of his mouth, and even though the grip on his chin hasn’t loosened, Peter cries in relief.
“You’re lucky I have a weak spot for boys like you,” Tony grins, causing Peter’s heart to skip a beat. “And you’re extremely lucky I have never had someone as pretty as you at my mercy.”
Before Peter knows what’s happening, the man’s tongue is on the left side of his chin, licking away the tears on his cheek in one swift motion. It takes the boy a few seconds to snap out of his shocked state, but then he instinctively kicks his right leg against his captor’s left shinbone. Tony groans in pain and Peter knows he’s just made a huge, fucking mistake when he’s hit across the face again.
“YOU LITTLE SHIT!”
The man is outright furious with rage when he’s aiming his gun at Peter’s head. The boy closes his eyes and tears at the cable ties in panic. “P-please, I-I didn’t m-mean-“
He’s screaming hysterically when Tony’s gun goes off, but he doesn’t feel any new pain; only his ears are ringing due to the deafening sound of the gun shot.
“This was your last warning, kid,” the man hisses and only now Peter dares to open his eyes again, his view clouded by a veil of tears. “I will ask you one more time: will you be a good boy now?”
“Y-yes, s-sir, I’ll be g-good, p-please-“
“O-of course, I’ll do…”
However, Peter forgets what he was about to say. Instead, he watches in horror as Tony gets up and unbuttons the fly of his overall. “W-what-“
“Tell me, Peter, who’s the bigger cock whore, you, or your little bitch?”
Panic and dread are crawling through Peter’s veins, spreading like ice, when Tony pulls his fully erect, large cock out of his pants. “O-oh my g-god you…you c-can’t… P-please, I-“
Peter whimpers pitifully when Tony presses the still warm gun barrel to his right temple. “Don’t tell me what I can, and can’t, boy. Open your mouth.”
Peter’s sobbing has come close to hyperventilating at this point. Is this what Tony has brought him up for? Forcing him to suck his dick before killing him after all? He desperately tries to yank his arms free from the radiator pipe yet again, but it only sends a rush of pain through his left, slightly twisted shoulder. He’s completely helpless when Tony’s bending forward, and Peter quickly closes his eyes in disgust when the man’s penis touches his sealed mouth, smearing pre-cum all over his lips.
“Now. Bite me, and I’ll pull the trigger.”
Defeated, Peter hesitantly opens his mouth as wide as he can, unable to suppress another sob when Tony pushes in, giving him a taste of his bitter pre-ejaculate. The thought of having his captor’s dick in his mouth, let alone the smell and taste of it, is enough to make Peter retch.
“If you throw up, you’re gonna lick up every single drop, got it?”
The boy has never been more humiliated or scared in his life. New tears are spilling from his closed eyes when he nods, desperately trying to withstand the urge to vomit. Without warning, Tony pushes in further, causing Peter to gag once again when the cock’s head brushes against the roof of his mouth. He’s starting to drool horribly and tries to swallow some of the spit despite having his mouth stretched painfully wide, but it only makes him cough.
“Mmh, that feels good, do that again,” Tony groans and jerks his hips forward, causing the tip of his cock to hit the back of Peter’s throat. The boy’s stomach clenches when he’s gagging yet again, and this time, he can even taste a little bit of gastric juice in his mouth. Fighting the agonizing urge to throw up had to be the hardest thing Peter has ever done, but somehow, he manages to hold back.
His torture is far from being over, though. Tony is still buried so deep inside his mouth that it’s getting hard to breathe, especially because his nose is stuffy from the ongoing sobbing. To Peter’s great relief, Tony suddenly withdraws his dick, but only a second later, he pushes back in so far that its tip hits the back of the boy’s throat again.
“Fuck, Peter Parker… you mouth feels like heaven. I’m sure it was made for sucking my dick.” The boy whimpers miserably, causing Tony to chuckle. “Do me a favor and open your pretty eyes for me, will you?”
Peter knows that it’s not a request; it’s an apodictic demand, which is why he forces his burning eyes open. He has no idea how he’s supposed to look the man in the eyes from this angle, but he’s trying nonetheless. Tony seems to come to the same conclusion, because a second later, his left hand’s grabbing a handful of his curls, tilting his head backwards until it hits the wall.
“That’s it,” the man grins and starts to rock his hips back and forth, rather slow at first, but gaining speed fast until he’s literally fucking Peter’s mouth so brutally that his balls are smacking against the boy’s chin. Every other trust, the man pushes in so agonizingly deep that his cock is filling Peter’s whole mouth and throat, causing the boy to choke gruesomely. The fourth time it happens, Tony stays buried inside his mouth for so long that the teenager thinks he’s about to suffocate. He struggles fiercely, but the cable tie doesn’t give an inch, and the way Tony is bending over him, makes it impossible to knee or kick him. Just when he’s about to bite down despite having a gun pressed against his temple, Tony withdraws somewhat. Peter’s chest is moving with each greedy breath when he’s gasping for air, but he hardly gets time to compose himself when Tony’s already doing it again. Peter can’t help crying out in anguish, causing his captor to groan in pleasure.
Suddenly, Tony’s body jerks and his hips buckle forward even more, filling Peter’s abused throat and mouth with thick hot ropes of cum. The boy whimpers, unable to spit out, but refusing to swallow at the same time; it’s so much that Peter can feel some of it dripping out of his mouth and running down his chin. Finally, after what felt like minutes, Tony pulls out of him completely, drawing salvia and some more cum with him, but before the boy can even think of spitting out what’s left, his captor covers his wet mouth with his left hand.
The man presses the gun barrel down even harder, and although it increases his urge to vomit even more, Peter eventually obeys.
“You missed something,” Tony says with a wicked grin, pointing at the tip of his cock before moving it closer to Peter’s mouth again. The boy sobs defeated when he sticks out his tongue and licks his captor’s tip clean. Afterwards, Tony actually tugs away his dick and puts the gun back into his holster, filling Peter with new hope that he won’t be killed off after all. He still winces fearfully when the man pulls a big knife out of his right leg pocket.
“You’ve made quite a mess of yourself,” Tony growls hungrily, pointing at Peter’s spit-and-cum-besmirched overall and staring down at him like he’s fucking edible. “I think I’ll better cut those dirty clothes off of you, right?”