'What the fuck?' Did I need to call the police? what would I even say; 'I'm watching a dark web live stream from a foreign country. Nothing has happened yet but I'm abnormally afraid for my millionaire sugar daddy.'
Four figures entered the room. They were dressed in black, like stagehands, each carrying a toolbox. With Jay voluntarily reclining on the bed, they secured the man's arms and legs with silver duct tape, spreading his body like a butchered animal on a grill.
"Cover his eyes and mouth?" asked one of the stagehands in a distinctly Asian accent.
"No," said the digital voice. "We need to let the world see his face."
Jay seemed to find this funny. "You never change."
"Neither do you, Jay," the voice chuckled. It was a genderless voice with a unique comforting kindness. "L2, please introduce the first tool."
One of the stagehands pulled out a long flexible rod that resembled something out of a magic show. He approached Jay's body, gently stroking his chest. The thick metal tip grazed his nipple and then hit it with an audible strike. The whip-like weapon certainly had weight to it.
Jay groaned, holding back any further expression of discomfort.
"Does that hurt?" the voice asked.
Jay nodded.
"Not enough for the chat."
I looked around for a chat box. If I had been watching on my laptop, I would have been able to view both windows, but on my phone, that was not an option. I would have to settle for watching the feed while listening to the pings of the chat in the background.
"L8 please begin." The next stagehand had a paint bucket of a thick, clear substance. Using a typical brush meant for painting walls, he started at Jay's neck, applying a coating down his chest, to his legs.
Jay closed his eyes, resting comfortably. His defined muscles shimmered in the moonlight.
This seemed to annoy the host. "Are you shivering, Jay?"
"It's a little cold."
The chat box pinged, causing the voice to giggle. "He certainly does look like a perfectly marinated piece of meat. Are you ready for the grill, Jay?"
"I can take anything."
"We shall see. L9, please begin."
The next stagehand put on rubber gloves before picking up what appeared to be a police baton. the performer stroked the weapon down Jay's chest, making sure to dip it in the unknown liquid before striking him again. This time it set off a spark.
"My servant will be sure to leave you with a beautiful scar."
'Was that a taser baton?' Maybe it was fake; just a special effects toy meant to look menacing on camera, that had to be it.
The stagehand dragged the tip along Jay's body. There were noticeable bolts of electricity, causing his muscles to flinch.
Again, the voice giggled. "A body your age has no business looking this good."
The stagehand adjusted the electric wave, before pressing the baton to Jay's inner thigh.
Jay grunted in pain, but still held back screams.
"You're a strong one," the voice giggled. "Do you have a woman, or a man, maybe both?"
The stagehand guided the electric pulse over Jay's skin.
That was why they put the lube (or whatever that was) to make the effect (of the bright vibrant electric arch) look more dramatic than it really was.
Jay's body went tense, his muscles convulsing with every touch. it was clear he was in pain as a single word exited Jay's lips. "Val."
"Val? Is that the person you love; the person who gives you the strength to move forward in your sad, pathetic excuse of a life?"
I knew that was sarcasm, but WTF?
"Yes."
"What can you tell me about Val?"
"Val." Jay's stomach muscles tensed, causing him to fight for breath. "He's a soldier."
"Is or was?" the voice asked politely, as the electric pulse danced over his nipple, coming dangerously close to Jay's heart.
"Both; he's a devoted father who deserved better in this life." There was clearly more he wanted to say, but to force the words would have caused him unnecessary pain.
"This Val sounds like a beautiful soul. Let's move along to the next phase."
The stagehand with the lube bucket helped drip generous amounts of liquid onto the toy. Two other stagehands forced Jay's legs apart, exposing his tight, throbbing asshole.
"Let's get a good shot of that for the viewers at home."
One stagehand picked up the camera while another positioned the toy next to Jay's inner thigh. The electric bolt danced along his skin, causing Jay to cry out.
"Please, oh fuck please." He was begging to be penetrated.
The camera was moved to get a better shot of Jay's face. Then, without warning the device was rammed inside of him. He was being fucked with the live electric pulse. Jay's mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound came out. Part of me hoped to see one of the stagehands secure a ball gag, allowing Jay something to bite down on. (Or maybe I was wrong and keeping his airway open was the best way to prevent him from choking to death on his own tongue.)
"Does it hurt, my love?" The boss character entered the frame. The tall slender figure had long black hair, perfect tits, and an average-sized cock. She wore a mask that appeared to be made of two mirrored surfaces, joined together in the shape of a heart. "It's okay to cry."
"When's the last time you've seen me cry?"
"That, I do not wish to mention on camera." The narrator removed the electrified sex toy, pulling it out completely before turning the power off. "You are a good man, Jay. Perhaps too good for this world."
The figure handed off the toy to one of her assistants, before crawling on the bed, straddling Jay's stomach. "Do you like my new tits?"
Jay sat up (as much as he could) for a better view. His eyes glanced at her breasts for only a moment, before looking into her eyes. "I'd say they're money well spent."
There was a digital giggle as the figure signaled for a stagehand to hand over a large knife. Leaning the new tits over Jay's face she cut the tape to free his muscular arms. "You're very good at this. I should put you on camera more often."
With the newfound use of his arms, Jay took the opportunity to hold his old friend in a sweet, romantic hug. "Anything for a friend."
Had she not been wearing the mask I had a feeling she (the big scary BDSM master) would have been blushing. "Aww, my beautiful blue jay, you've always been so supportive of me, I wanted you to be the first to fuck me like a woman."
"Like a woman?" Jay gripped her between her legs. He was clearly more interested in her cock. "Are you getting bottom surgery?"
"Does it make me any less of a woman?"
Jay laughed. "Best of both worlds."
"Right again." She handed the blade to Jay, allowing him to free his legs, while someone else moved the camera to a better angle.
The figure got on her knees, spreading her ass. When Jay was able to, he sat up completely. He gripped himself, lubing his cock with precum. He rubbed himself against her gaping hole. "You like that?"
"You know I don't like being teased."
"I just wanted to make sure you were ready." Jay took a moment to gather a mouth full of spit, to add a little extra lubrication to her hole, before ramming his thick glossy member inside her.
"Oh, fuck yeah." The woman was having trouble keeping her mask on. I could see her screaming, gasping, as he split her in two.
Jay was fucking her deep and hard, keeping an abnormally fast rhythm. He was like a sex robot who'd gone rogue. He gripped her tits, making his way down her tight stomach to her thick hanging balls, giving them a tender squeeze.
'I wished he would fuck me like that.' I reached inside my sweatpants, letting nature take its course. My tip was soaked with precum. I reclined on the weight bench, spreading my legs. My dick sprang up, just begging to be touched. 'Jay would fuck you like that if you'd let him. You're just a chicken-shit coward.'
Jay held on to the woman's hips while reaching around to grip her cock. I licked my palm and pumped my own shaft, keeping pace with what was on the screen.
Whoever was holding the camera knew what they were doing. The shot panned from Jay's face down his sculpted body. He blew a load inside the woman's ass; over and over until the woman's legs buckled. With his cock inside her, Jay pulled her onto his lap. He jerked her off while kissing her neck, holding her in a loving embrace. "How'd I do?" He lifted her mask just enough to kiss her lips.
She smiled. Her glossy red lips were visible on camera as she spoke. `Perfect as always."
"I'm glad." Jay cuddled her close, while continuing to stroke her now flaccid cock.
The johns I served always used condoms. I figured that was so they could pretend I was a girl. They certainly never held me like that.
I turned off the stream, hurling my phone. What the hell did I just watch? At least Jay was still alive. Clearly, this was the 'emergency' he had to rush out for. This person needed Jay's love, support, and his blessed holy cock.
A question crossed my mind, 'Did my dad see this?'
I picked up my phone and rushed to the basement. He appeared to be asleep. Still covered in sweat, I slipped into bed by his side. I reached for his hand if only to make sure he was still alive. "Dad?"
My father groaned displaying the minimal signs of life. "Hey, son." He patted my back, inviting me to lean on his shoulder. "How's Jay?"
"He seems to be having fun." I closed my eyes, but sleep would not come.
I stared at the ceiling, contemplating what to do next. If he was dead there was nothing I could do from here, but if he was alive (and consented to be on camera,) it was really none of my business.
After what felt like hours, the sun was just beginning to rise. 'Fuck it.' I decided to man up and call Jay's cell phone.
A female voice answered. "Hello, this is Jayden Lorri's phone. You're listed in his contacts as, 'Papa and Baby bear.'"
"Oh, I didn't know that. I guess it makes sense." There was an awkward silence. Should I ask who she was? Did I even want to know?
"Aww, you must be Val."
"I'm actually his son," I said, nervously trying to decipher if this was the same voice from the stream or an entirely new person who just happened to be in possession of Jay's phone. "Is Jay...alive?"
This got a chuckle. "Rest assured I'm a professional. Jayden has been a good friend of mine for nearly a decade. He's the last person I'd ever want to harm."
"You're a professional dom?"
She laughed like a videogame villain. "I prefer the term erotic ringmaster."
I'm sure you do. "Because you travel with a circus?"
"We do things a little different in Japan."
"I can imagine." I needed to know why. "Did Jay ask for that livestream session?"
"Of course. This isn't the first time he needed a session to work out his trauma."
"Trauma?" That was an odd choice of word to describe Jay.
"Jayden, he holds a lot of sadness." She took a moment to reword her statement. "He's worked very hard for all that he's achieved and deserves every moment of happiness, but although his life seems to be made of gold and diamonds, he craves a way to atone for his spiritual sins."
"His spiritual sins?"
"Lust, wrath, gluttony, pride, sloth, you know."
"No, not really." That made no sense. Did Jay think it was a cosmic sin that my father was suffering and not him? Was he trying to take my father's pain?
"Jay asked me to find a way to challenge his body in a manner which mimicked a seizure. No doubt, in tribute to your father's courage, to honor him."
"Um, ok."
"It's just something he feels the need for; to find clarity through suffering. In the past I gave him the tattoo in dedication to his estranged daughter."
"I noticed." I was getting a little tired of this conversation. "Tell him I'll see him when he gets back."
That was when I heard Jay's voice. He yawned, speaking in a sleepy, sensual whisper, "Who are you talking to, Sheena?"
Sheena, the movie star, of course that's who it was. I hung up and powered off my phone. I didn't want Jay or Sheena to call back (although they could easily call the house phone.) I needed sleep. I awoke naturally at around ten. Since apparently, the nurse had already helped my father into his wheelchair.
I went to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. To my surprise, it was already on. 'Was there a Keurig pod in here?' No, just hot water. Did the nurse do this? It could have been the gardener, or any number of house staff.
As if in a dream, Becca entered the room, sipping a cup of tea. "Hi, Marcus."
"Hi." I stood in shock. My friend wore denim shorts and a crop top (which she had clearly made herself using scissors.) This drew attention to a very noticeable change.
"What?" She asked as she kicked her legs up on the dining room table. She had been wearing a pair of plastic shower shoes that had seen better days.
"You're back from Florida?"
"Yup." She pulled out a small bag of mini-Oreo cookies, making sure to remove the top cookie before eating them one coin at a time. "I hitched a ride up the coast.
"Are you pregnant?"
She looked down for a brief second, pretending like I was pointing out something unusual. "I dunno, probably."
That was not an answer I had a response for. "Is it mine?" I tried my best to act like it didn't matter. She was my friend. I'd stay by her side no matter what.
Becca shrugged. "I dunno."
The kitchen door opened, revealing a girl with long black hair and olive skin. She looked to be no older then eighteen, maybe twenty, wearing an oversized flannel shirt as a jacket, over a bikini top and men's underwear. She looked like a model paid to portray a tomboy. With the biggest smile, she took a seat on Becca's lap. This girl was claiming her territory.
"This is Lucy," Becca explained. "She's moving in."
Lucy held up two fingers. For a brief moment, it looked like she was flashing a peace sign like an adorable anime character. And then she stuck out her long, serpent-like tongue complete with a series of large silver piercings.
"Lucy's a little sore from her latest procedure." Becca kissed her on the lips, coaxing a smile from her silent lover. "She's working towards getting a full split."
"Because you have a thing for lizards?"
"More like hot Asian dragons," Becca said with a giggle. "So, where's my dad?"
"Curacao," I said as I approached the fridge. I needed something in my stomach. "He's doing stunt work on a movie, I think."
"Oh neato," Becca said as she split a cookie with Lucy, placing the chocolate disk on her mute friend's tongue. "Any idea when he'll be back?"
"Not sure." It could be as soon as a day or late as a week.
"That's cool."
I rubbed my head in pain. "No more cryptic bullshit; are you staying or going?"
"I'm staying," she said with a deadpan expression. "At least for a little while." Becca licked her upper lip and whispered something into Lucy's ear. "We're going to check on your dad."
"We?" I followed behind them as they skipped down the stairs like a pair of schoolgirls. All three of us were stopped by the nurse.
"The patient suffered another incident. I have him on an IV line." The nurse met my gaze, placing emphasis on the serious nature of the situation.
Becca, of course, took this as a challenge. She strutted past the nurse and crawled onto the bed, letting her shorts slip off. "How rude of me. I'm Becca. This is my daddy's mansion, so I'm allowed to do whatever the fuck I want." She intentionally stuck her ass in the air, showing off a lacy pink thong. "You like? I stole it from a hooker in Virginia."
My father was asleep under the thin silk blanket, embroidered with erotic imagery. His arm was hanging off the side of the bed. He was so still, he could have been dead.
Becca rested her head on his chest, taking a moment to confirm life, before cuddling by my father's side. "He's very sick, both mentally, physically, and most importantly spiritually." She reached her hand to his, lacing her fingers. "But he's not gone.
My father chuckled softly. "Far from it."
"You got that right Marcus' Daddy." She put her arms around him, holding him close like a lover.
"Rebecca is that you?"
"Who else would it be?"
"This could be a dream." My father struggled to open his eyes.
Becca kissed his shoulder "Do you tend to dream about me?"
"I tend to dream about warm angels bringing me their body heat." My father reached his hand to her, then with all the energy he could muster, he turned his head. "I haven't felt this kind of pain since the last time I got sober."
"Sobriety is overrated." Becca motioned for Lucy to join them.
Lucy did as she asked, spooning Becca's back. From her pocket, she lifted an old, cracked smartphone, and took a selfie,
It was then the nurse decided this was a good time to go on a smoke break, rather than deal with our bullshit.