Inferno

Note: To make things less confusing, Jono’s internal thoughts are italicized and the thoughts he projects are in ‘’s. Enjoy.

Fuck. This can’t be good.

Pyro pulled his fist from Jono’s hair violently, still leaning over his helpless form. He propped one leg up on the bench, leaning forward against it as he began to speak again, his hands wandering over the wrapped torso of his victim.

“See, ‘while back I experienced the true joys of a secondary mutation. Sure, hasn’t been kind for lot o’ us, but to me… well, seems that finally somethin’ good’s happened ta me.”

A finger snaked it’s way up to the top of Jono’s wrap, pulling the leather bandages down so that the glowing blaze beneath strained, swirling out in fire-like tendrils. Concentrating, Jono tried to cause more of the psionic energy to burst out, hoping to incinerate the arrogant prick holding him down. His heart sank as nothing happening, his mind already twisting around the answer, knowing where this little talk was going.

“Seems now, s’not just strictly fire I control. Pretty much anythin’ that burns is at my command. Anythin’ that can start a fire an’ char skin with a touch is fair game, luv. That includes all this psionic shit ya got inside ya. It can’t hurt me none, so I’d suggest ya just stop struggling.” His grin shifted to a wicked mockery of sweetness as he leaned in closer to whisper into his captive’s ear. The warmth of his breath made Jono stiffen noticeably, which only delighted Pyro that much more. He tried again to attack him, but he couldn’t move a single limb nor flare a single burst of psionic energy. “You’ll only make things worse on yourself if ya keep that up, luv. See, since your entire body is filled with this lovely psychic-like fire, you’re nothin’ but a puppet ta me. If I wanted, I could have you attack everyone in this club, lay it ta waste. An’ what would you do, say that I’d come back from the dead to haunt you with powers I supposedly don’t have?” He laughed. From the sound alone Jono knew this guy had to be psychotic. “I would, but see I’ve got bettah plans. You’re just a test run, really. But I don’t doubt I’ll enjoy it all the same.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck bloody fuck!

Jono looked up at Pyro, narrowing his eyes. “I’d suggest you back off, mate. See, if’n I wanted, I could alert this whole club to whats goin’ on ‘ere. Could even implant the number for the professor in their ‘eads. The X-men’d be ‘ere so fast ya wouldn’t ‘ave time ta blink.”

“Like I said before, luv, I could make ya take out this entire club. Sure, someone might escape and call fer help, but the X-men would be respondin’ ta your mass destruction, not mine. It’d be cake to slip away in all th’ confusion.”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, that is the idea, ‘cept the other way ‘round, luv.”

Jono froze. He hadn’t been expecting him to do that. Hurt him, sure. Kill him, maybe. But rape him? He thought things had been going badly before… In any case, Pyro was right. If the X-men arrived while Pyro was controlling Jono, they’d focus on him and the real culprit would escape. On top of that, certain X-men would probably beat the living shit out of him before they figured out what was really going on. Jean would probably catch on, but not before Logan or Scott took him out.

“Actually, the whole callin’ the cavalry in ain’t that bad an idea. Been dyin’ ta tangle with Jean these days…”

Phoenix… Phoenix and her fire… if Pyro could control him this easily, then he could at least avoid Phoenix’s fire, if not more. Worse yet, control some of it, attack others… This was not good. Not at all.

Fine. I’ll behave. Jus’ do what you’re ‘ere for an leave me be.

“If you survive, then sure thing luv! I’ll be outta your hair for a good while.”

Pyro let the leather wrap snap back against Jono’s face just as he felt his body moving forward against his will, slamming him into the edge of the table and doubling him over on top of it. His arms flew out to either side, palm down, held securely there as if there were actual restraints. Jono could move his head from side to side, and his legs slightly, but that was the extent of his mobility. This was tested as a sharp slap sounded through the din of the music, a hand coming in contact with the displayed backside with bruising force and followed by a playful laugh. Jono tried to struggle, to pull away, more from the indignity than the slight sting left on his leather-clad bottom.

“Oh it gets worse, mate. Don’t tell me your some kinda bleedin’ pansy. Not frequentin’ a place like this. I’da pegged you for the type ta be deep inta all this. A bottom ta be sure, but still…”

Anger flared inside Jono, but his psionic flames did not. He was stuck. He’d just have to ride it out. Just remember, its just sex. Ya’ve had plenty a’ that in your time. T’won’t be so bad… That was when he heard the sound of metal scraping on metal as a switchblade was opened behind him. It was soon accompanied by flick-hiss of a lighter firing up. Not good, not good…

“Ya eva hear the expression ‘play with fire an ya gonna get burned’ mate?”

Something sharp and hot pressed against the skin barely covered by his fishnet on his left shoulder. His body tensed and jerked as an automatic response to the feel of the hot knife dragging down his body. In the back of his mind, where he was still trying to deny this was even happening to him, Jono wondered if this would be what the power of Kitty’s ex would feel like, that Wisdom bloke… He gasped in relief, or rather his body went through the motions of relief, as the knife slid over his wrap. This guy was nuts, but he probably wouldn’t try to cut off his wrap. That would draw too much attention to the two of them. The respite was short-lived, however, as the pain burned through him again just below his ribcage where the wrap ended. It continued to singe his flesh, cutting slightly into him, all the way down his back, tracing the dip of his spine. It stopped only upon meeting the top of his leather pants, leaving Jono shivering against the cool table beneath him. Another sla slap against his backside, though this time the handle of the switchblade was added to it and the thick material of his pants couldn’t dull the sensation. He jumped yet again, managing to move his fingers enough to clench his hands into fists.

There was the sudden sound of tearing fabric as the fishnet was ripped open in the back. Jono’s arms moved beyond his control, stretching backwards towards each other, causing his torso to arch up off the table so that Pyro could remove the thin garment entirely. After yanking the fishnet away, Jono was slammed back down against the table from the force of his arms dutifully returning to their assigned positions. Pyro clucked his tongue, bending over the other’s body with a hand placed on either side of his shoulders.

“What a good boy you’re bein’ luv. So nice an’ obedient-like.” Jono felt the warmth of breath on the exposed part of his back, someone leaning in closer. He stiffened in two different manners as he felt something warm and wet scrape along one of the cuts. There was no blood, of course, but there was still the feeling of any natural wound. His mind hissed at his body angrily, usually so easy to control. This was not sexy. This should not be happening. “Yes, such a good boy…” The voice came from the mouth hovering next to his ear, another jolt of sensation running down his backbone to rest uncomfortably in his pants. Teeth enclosed on the single hoop dangling from his ear, tugging cruelly back on it so that Jono lifted his head and tilted his chin back to try and relieve the tension.

Surprisingly gentle fingers crept through his mussed hair, stroking him in a soothing manner that entirely contradicted everything else happening. Jonothon’s confusion was quickly silenced as again a fist closed around several strands and pulled roughly. The switchblade appeared again, held by his right cheek, close enough that heat could be felt smoldering still in the metal. It stayed long enough for Jono to see it, then the tip traced along the skin just above his wrap, stopping below his ear. Had he tears, Jono suspected they would be fighting to escape about now.

The knife blade retraced the line of raised skin, rekindling the spikes of pain there before slipping under the leather covering the torn skin where his mouth should be. It traced where his skin stopped, an odd feeling walking the line between pain and pleasure as it moved over a combination of raw nerve endings but somewhat heeled skin. Once more, before his mind could wrap about the pseudo pleasurable sensations, all was thrown to hell as the blade pulled upwards, tearing a line in the flesh. It stopped before exiting the wrap entirely, most likely to continue to keep their actions as subtle as possible, but that was little comfort at the moment.

“At’s right, luv. You see who’s in control now. I’m in charge of what you feel, boy. All me.”

Jono’s hair was released and his head fell to the table severely. The world was spinning in front of his eyes as he looked out at the dancers no more than ten feet away from him. They were so close… if they only knew what was really going on, maybe they would… He tried to make eye contact with some when they looked his way, but most just averted their eyes so as not to be thought voyeurs. Some lingered longer, moving from the man atop him back to his own face to offer him a jealous wink. They were all clueless… but so much the better for their own safety. I’m suffering for the greater good and all that bullocks… I feel like a bloody sacrificial lamb here…

Searing pain raced through him as the switchblade was pressed flat against his left shoulder, still hot, burning a line of reddened flesh running horizontally. Then slight relief as his tormentor blew cool air on the wound. Jono didn’t let himself enjoy it this time, knowing that there was only more pain coming. He squirmed, realizing that he was now given a bit more room to move though still no chance of pulling away entirely. An elbow dug into his back between his shoulder blades as Pyro dipped down, his blade held like a pen…

Pain. Agony. Pure torture. The sharp tip jabbed into the burn, etching out something that could only be a word. A name. His name. He tried to remain still, his body trying at the same time to rebel. If he moved things would only be worse, but it was only reflex that caused him to try and jerk away. The conflict was most likely the whole reason he was allowed as much freedom as he had. It was all part of the suffering, right down to the tight feeling straining at his pants. His mind screamed silent and uselessly in his head, not daring to reach out to anyone else. It was an eternity before the knife was pulled away and the weight removed from his back.

“I s’pose I should let ya rest a bit, mate, ‘fore I continue.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jono saw a hand reach for a glass further along on the table, some of it’s contents spilled most likely from their activities. “ Would ya like a drink, mate?” The casual tone of his voice mocked his position, as if he wasn’t writhing in agony, sprawled across the table mere inches from the man relaxing in his seat. The cruel, smiling face moved to where he could see it, eyebrows raised in a false expression of regret. “Wait, you can’t, can you? Sorry, luv, I entirely forgot. But here, you can at least have this.” A flash of white light sprung from behind his eyes as the alcohol slopped over the edge of the glass onto the brand Pyro had carved into him. He thrashed as much as allowed, hoping that the invisible grip on his wrists would loosen if just for a moment.

‘Fuck you! Fucking let me go ya bloody wanker! Sodding bastard, you sick twisted freak! Stop bloody playin’ with me an’ get on with it already! Just let me go or finish it!’

“Shhhh, alright luv. If that’s what you’d really like, we can get down to business.” The sound of a belt being removed filled his ears, sounding hallow against the music and the hum of talking and laughter in the background. The world seemed to slow down as in turn he felt his own pants loosened and then pulled down. Skin pressed against skin as Pyro moved into position behind him, snaking one hand down to run over Jonothon’s reluctant arousal. A crude scoff was heard as the hand pulled once at the cock before moving along to tend to his own business at hand. Jono squinted his eyes shut, preparing himself for the pain to come as without further ado, Pyro thrust inside him.