10 Entering a Entirely Brand New World

WARNING This chapter contains scenes that could qualify as #forced 

It was certainly no ordinary hotel room, more of an apartment whose spacious living room took Martin's breath away. He had never been in a hotel above the second star level before, so it was a surprise to him to see an interior larger than his entire studio. The decor was as modern and comfortable as possible, kept in light, pastel shades. The furniture looked expensive, and there were bouquets of red roses in the vases.

But the first impression was gone, and Martin remembered where he was and why. He looked around for Steve, whom he hung up from as soon as he entered, and saw him closing the door. A magnetic card flashed in his hands, which worried Martin a little, though he had no idea why. Steve looked a little sober now than he had a few minutes ago, but he was still drunk. As soon as he turned from the door, he threw his jacket to the ground. His anxious eyes found Martin, and a warm but disturbing smile appeared on Steve's lips.

"You're cute," Paxton said without taking his eyes off him. He began to undo the top buttons on his shirt.

"What?"

Martin was sure he had misheard.

"And lovely."

Suddenly, Martin had a revelation that Steve was completely drunk and must have lost his sense of reality. He still had enough physical strength to stand and walk, but his mind was completely darkened and he was talking nonsense.

"Okay, you're drunk. Go to bed," he said gently. As soon as Paxton settles down nicely in the bedclothes, he will surely fall asleep and pass all delusions.

"Only with you," came the startling reply.

Martin blinked in half surprise and half in irritation.

"Huh? Are you nuts or what?"

"Who knows?"

It was too much. Martin was tired and wanted to go home, take a warm shower and go to sleep. He really didn't feel like getting into arguments with someone who had been smothered by alcohol. A good deed is a good deed, but that was a bit too much. He felt a growing irritation.

"Okay, enough of these jokes," he said firmly, "I got you to your room, and now please step away from the door."

"No."

"What does 'no' mean?"

"No."

The door was slammed, and Steve slipped the electronic key into his pants pocket. Martin didn't know what yet, but something was definitely wrong.

"I have no idea what you mean, but it ceases to be funny" replied Martin with an angry gleam in his eye. In fact, however, he felt less and less confident. The whole situation was strange, and it was beyond anything he had ever experienced.

"Please open the door and let me leave," he added emphatically as there was no reaction from Steve.

The driver was still unmoved with that smile on his face. Only his eyes lit a little more.

Martin took a step towards him, wanting to fight for the key if necessary, but Steve showed agility and strength surprising for a drunk man. He grabbed Martin by the two arms and, squeezing them tightly, pressed into his mouth.

Surprise took Martin's breath away. He tried to pull away, scream, but for that moment Steve just waited and, taking advantage of the moment when Martin opened his mouth, shoved his tongue into it.

"Mmm…" Martin groaned in surprise, feeling the other man's tongue violently penetrate the corners of his mouth. There was so much intensity and passion in Steve's kiss that Martin's heart pounded furiously and his mind went blank.

The kiss lasted a long time - passionate, brutal, hot and wet. When Steve finally released his mouth, Martin gasped.

"What the hell are you ..." he began, panting heavily, but Steve trapped his arms in his again and his mouth with another intense kiss.

Martin had kissed many times before, with different partners, but he had never experienced anything like this. Steve's tongue seemed to know perfectly well what he was doing and where to touch to intensify the sensation.

The terrible thought flashed through Martin's mind that the guy was forcing him to kiss him. In a moment, an even more terrible thing was born into him - and what if Steve didn't want to stop at kissing?

For a brief moment, this suspicion chilled him completely. Quickly, however, his defensive instincts worked and he tried to break free, but the athletic Steve was stronger than him. The only thing he finally managed to free was his mouth.

"Please let me out…" the boy was already scared.

"No," repeated the drunk stubbornly. "You're too cute." Steve brought his mouth close to his ear. "I want you, I want you, I want ..."

Horror chilled Martin's blood. Steve sounded so serious that he would be able to implement the craziest idea, and drunk enough to not only be unscrupulous about it, but also not accept any argument. For a moment, Martin considered summoning help, but his pride as a man did not allow it. This pleasant evening in the company of an idol was starting to turn into a nightmare.

Martin didn't even notice when Steve's leather belt was tied around his wrists. When he realized he was tied up and there was no way out, he felt a cold sweat on his back.

"Please ..." he groaned desperately. "I don't ... I'm not gay."

"Shhh ... I promise you will experience exceptional pleasure today."

"Please…"

"I want you so much. You're so cute ..."

There was no point talking to him. No argument could reach that alcohol-drenched mind. Martin knew he had lost. In utter desperation, he struggled again - again to no avail. Steve gripped him even tighter. Martin felt tears in his eyes.

"So cute," Steve repeated, and picked him up. For a man who had trouble getting through the corridor, he was quite good at carrying him into the bedroom. Only here did he lost his balance and they both fell heavily into the bed.

Steve laughed slightly. His mood was changing again, this time to merriment. Awkwardly, he threw off his elegant shirt, showing the young god's springy, athletic torso. He unbuttoned Martin's fly and unceremoniously tugged his pants, pulling them down to his knees.

"Steve, please stop…" Martin pleaded. How could all this be happening to him? Why?

The driver was too busy taking his shoes off him and wrestling with his pants to listen to him. As he took off Martin's socks, he staggered and nearly fell, causing him another bout of giggles. When he got up, he looked at Martin again.

Martin forced himself to meet Steve's eyes. He felt himself blush. No one has ever looked at him with such adoration, with such passionate tenderness and desire. Rather, it was his partners who expected such looks, even hot and passionate Heather. Steve's eyesight was amazing, consuming every cell in his body and every thought of Martin. But sex between men was against nature and against social conventions, it was a perversion that cannot be tolerated. Martin closed his eyes. He couldn't bear the thought of being used for something so obscene. He couldn't bear the look that told him he really was wanted.

His wrists were pulled up. Fear hit Martin with new force. If Steve is going to tie him to the bed, who knows what he will go for. And if there is a psychopath in him who ...

"Don't be afraid," Steve's eyes were staring right into his with something Martin wouldn't dare call love, but something related for sure. Completely lost in the whole situation and those piercing, hot eyes, he forgot that at the moment he was at the total mercy of another man. When Steve's lips came back to his, he no longer defended himself, he took it with tears of shame in his eyes.

"I knew you would start to like it ..."

Martin started. Has he started to like it? No, it's just ...

He had no chance to escape, so he accepted his fate. He had accepted his helplessness and the inevitable waiting for him. Just enough.

"A little kissing, a little binding, and you're already getting hard. You are so delightful ..."

Hard? No it is not possible.

Steve slid off him, revealing Martin's masculinity still hidden in his underwear. The prominent rise spoke for itself.

"I ... I don't ..." he tried to deny the obvious facts, hoping that in a moment the ground would part beneath him. It is impossible that his body reacts to the caresses of a man. No, it is ...

Steve chuckled happily again.

"Wonderful," he whispered, looking into his eyes. Under this gaze, Martin struggled in his bonds, trying to avoid further humiliation by his treacherous organ.

For Steve, this desperate move was a signal that he was on the right track. His mouth approached Martin's ear.

"You are so sexy ... So wonderful ..." He whispered, gently blowing into his turbinate. The words had hardly passed in Martin's brain when he felt a tongue dance passionately against his ear.

"No ..." he groaned softly "please ..."

This is not really happening, he thought desperately. This can't be happening. Steven's hot breath caressed and teased him, making Martin no longer able to recognize what was pleasure and what was torture of humiliation. His body had a purpose of its own that was quite contrary to what he had been raised in.

This is wrong, abnormal. This is some kind of sick perversion. He shuddered under the mental torture he inflicted on himself. After all, he's not some pervert!