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Mechanical Sins ( Lustful Sins & Hocus Pocus )

Jude licks his lips at the sight before him; Connor face down, ass up, his hands gripping the boy's hips as his cock plunges in and out of Connor's ass. The sounds and smell of sex in the air send shivers down Jude's spine. His holo-cell is in his hand again, taking more photos. The other hand tangles in Connor's hair, pulling his head up and turning it so he can catch the boy's face in a photo.

"Look at you, moaning and begging. Such sweet cries. These will be good memories. Oh but don't worry, we can always make more." Jude chuckles, setting the phone aside again. He leans over Connor, leaning his weight into his thrusts. He's so close again, almost there. Heat rushes through his body, through his cock, and into Connor as he spills into the boy again. Hips jerking hard, riding his aftershocks. Then he's grinding hard and tight, just to make sure Connor can feel his cock filling him. Three orgasms, one into Connor's mouth and two in his ass. Jude is satisfied. "Mm, such a good boy, Connor. Even after all that, you're still tight around me. We're going to have a lot of fun together, for a long time."
 
Every thought that crosses through Connor’s mind slips through his fingers like water through the cracks of a broken cup. Most of what he says to Jude are echoes of the man’s own words, a parrot unable to speak for himself. There’s only one thing he can focus on, which is the wet slide of Jude’s cock through a place he never wanted to be touched. It rubs against places inside himself that he didn’t know could be touched, the pressure to his prostate overbearing. It’s too tight and too much. He could cry. No, he is crying. Sobs mixing with moans, until the two sounds become the same. A hand grabs him by the hair, urges his head up away from the bed, and he tries to look at the man responsible for how he’s feeling.

Hard thrusts jerk his body against the bedsheets, forcing his smaller body downward, and he feels the man spill into him. Connor’s own cock twitches where it’s neglected beneath him, but all it takes is one accidental glide over that sore bundle of nerves to send him over the edge for the last time. He comes hard with a pathetic mewl, hands tightening into the sheets, and he’s gone. Connor blacks out before he can even try to understand Jude’s sinister words.
 
Jude hovers over the now unconscious Connor, cock still buried deep. Its been a long time since he's had such good sex. Sure, there's been others he's drugged with Syn. But none had such a strong reaction to it. Connor was so easily swayed to obedience. That added to the excitement. And Connor is a student at a prestigious prosthetic academy, which makes for easy blackmail. There's no way Jude is letting this boy get away.

Jude rolls his hips one last time, just to see if the unconscious boy would still react. Then he smirks and pulls away. Another couple photos of the mess he's made of Connor, his face, his body, the evidence slowly dripping from his ass. Jude hums, walking naked to the attached bathroom and getting a washcloth. Returning, he cleans Connor up as much as he can without digging the remaining seed from his body. Then he strips the soiled topsheet off the bed before stretching out beside Connor. One arm and leg get draped over the boy, his prosthetic right arm tucking beneath the pillow. This way, he would as soon as Connor stirs.
 
Pain. That’s the first thing Connor feels when he wakes up. Every part of his body hurts. The flesh of his hips and ass, the inside of his thighs. He barely fidgets in place and almost cries out from the sharp sting of his lower body. His head is pounding, too, a dull thud in his temples. He doesn’t want to open his eyes, because he isn’t sure what he’ll find. The last thing he remembers is being at the bar, leaving with a man whose prosthetic arm was far more interesting than his handsome face. There’s bits and pieces of other things. Sounds, feelings. He distinctly remembers a husky voice in his ear.

When he does open his eyes, he’s hit with a wave of nausea. It’s too bright. The room spins around him. There’s an arm and a leg draped over his body, holding him close, and he sluggishly turns to look at their owner. He’s a little surprised to see the man from the night before—what was his name? Jake? No, Jude. There’s no time to see if he’s awake. Connor wiggles out of his grasp like a caterpillar, too hot to stay put. He’s completely naked and feels like shit and is so sore.

“Where’m I?” His voice is hoarse and soft. When he notices that it’s late morning, he sits up too fast and almost throws up. “Shit, what time is it? Shit, ow, fucking hell.”
 
True to his nature, Jude is awake the moment Connor moves. And he wakes far too easily; no sluggishness, no discomfort in waking. Instead he just sits up, pushes a hand through his hair, then blinks bright blue eyes at Connor. "Slow down. You're hungover, and I don't need you throwing up on my floor."

Jude stretches, then shuffles over to sit up next to Connor. Once his feet are on the floor, he stands, butt naked, in front of Connor. "Come on, I'll take you to the bathroom and get you some pain meds." Jude wraps one arm around Connor's waist, lifting him slowly to his feet. "You're at my place, by the way."
 
Hungover sounds like an understatement. Connor is no stranger to alcohol and a long night of drinking doesn’t make him feel nearly this shitty. Jude does have a point, though. Better not to throw up all over the floor. The man is also, to Connor’s surprise, stark naked. His face burns, but he’s too nauseous to comment on it. Or the arm around his waist. “Your place? I...don’t remember much,” he admits, which is also odd. He’s not a blackout drunk most nights, even if he drinks a lot.

Getting up from the bed hurts so bad that he wouldn’t be able to stand without Jude’s help. He’s leaning against the man when it hits him like a brick. There’s no reason why he should be this sore. No reason that his ass should be in this much pain. He doesn’t let people fuck him, ever. Drunk or sober. And it doesn’t take a genius to piece together the puzzle. “You—did you fuck me?” The question is sharp and accusatory. And knowing that they most likely did makes him pull away from Jude. He doesn’t know how they ended up doing things he preferred not to, but he knows he’s pissed and in pain. “Ow, you fucking jackass, you couldn’t have been more careful? Ever heard of fucking prepping first?”
 
Jude laughs at Connor's sudden realization, catching the boy's elbow to make sure he doesn't fall. "Yes, I fucked you. And it was so good. You were so hot. Moanonf and begging me to keep going." Jude smirks, keeping a grip on Connor's elbow as he leads the boy to the bathroom. Jude shrugs when asked about preparation.

"I didn't know you were a virgin. And it's not like I didn't prep you at all. Not my fault your body is so tight." Jude sits Connor on the toilet, then walks to the sink cabinet. He pulls out a bottle of pain meds, shakes out three tablets, then fills the cup by the sink with water. Jude walks over to stand in front of the boy, holding out the meds and water. "Here. Take these."
 
“What—you—I’m too hungover for this,” Connor stutters over his words and puts a hand on his face, rubs at his aching eyes and lets out a big sigh. His face is bright red and he doesn’t know if he wants to hear more about their night together or pretend it never happened. It’s hard to imagine himself begging and moaning for anyone to keep going.

“Well you could have asked if I was a virgin,” he mutters as they make their way into the bathroom, not that it matters anymore. His v-card has been taken, swiped and cut into pieces by the odd man beside him. He takes the pain meds in his hand and examines them. They look like regular painkillers, so he pops them into his mouth, scowling all the while. “Not my fault my body is like that. Or that your demon dick caused me pain.”
 
Jude snorts, setting his hand on his hip. "Rude. You didn't have a problem with my cock last night. Maybe I should remind you how it felt." Jude smirks, brushing his right fingers against Connor's cheek. "Or I could just use your fascination with my arm to make you hard again."

Jude laughs again, pulling his hand away before Connor can try anything. Leaving the boy on the toilet, he retreats to the bedroom to fetch his holo-cell. When he comes back, he's biting his lip. "Gods, you look so hot in these." Jude turns on the floating hologram display in the air above the phone, swiping through the photos of Connor from last night.
 
The jab at Connor’s love of mechanics does not get by without a deep scowl. Not his fault he gets more excited for a beautiful piece of machinery than he does for a human being. People were dumb and ridiculous. Machinery was far more reliable and never gave him as much trouble. “I was drunk last night. Doubt I’d enjoy it sober,” he sneers. Nothing hurts a man’s pride more than knowing he’s not wanted in bed.

When he’s left alone for a moment, he tries to think about what to do next. Get his shit together and get out, obviously, and think about why none of this makes sense later. He’s pushing himself to his feet when Jude returns, biting his lip and looking smug. There are images displayed in the air, ones that make Connor’s blood turn cold. He’s frozen to the spot. Part of him doesn’t recognize the man in the pictures—eyes full of lust, body spread out like the pages of a lewd porn magazine, someone else’s dick buried in his ass. Jude’s dick. All his carefulness in the past about sleeping around and none of it mattered.

He’s speechless, but only for a moment. Moving faster than he should, he lunges for Jude from across the bathroom. “You—you took photos?! What the fuck is wrong with you?” He’s reaching for the holo-cell in desperation and it’s not the same from the night before. There’s no pleasure in this, not even the fake kind. Only fear and panic.
 
Jude has the height advantage, holding the holo-cell up out of Connor's reach. He laughs, entirely amused. "Yes, you were drunk, unaware, and your bartender cares more about money than his customers. He certainly didn't care when I drugged your drink. Or when you obviously couldn't keep decisions for yourself."

Jude catches Connor's jaw in his free hand, grip firm. His lips are less than an inch from the boy's. "What's wrong with me? I'm a criminal, Connor. You were too excited about a piece of tech to find out what kind of person was buying you drinks. And now, you're going to work for me."
 
There’s so much in Jude’s explanation that it almost makes Connor want to cry. The bartender he’d known for years didn’t give a single fuck about his safety. Not that they’d ever been friends, but still. That Jude did, in fact, drug his drink. All in the course of a single night, he wound up in the hands of a dangerous stranger with too much leverage.

“But you… What am I supposed to do for you?” The hand on his face burns and he doesn’t want it there, but he’s afraid to pull away. All it takes is one touch of a button for those photos to be leaked. He knows that. Once that happens, he’s done for. No one will ever look at him seriously. They’ll never hire him. “I don’t have anything. I can’t shoot a gun or sell drugs or—just—I can’t— Please, just delete them. Please, you can’t keep those! You’ll ruin everything, please—”
 
"Ah, ah, behave and listen." Jude lowers the phone, but tightens his grip on Connor's jaw as a warning. "You know tech. You're going to save me money by being my technician. You're also going to supply me with a line of prosthetics to sell on the black market. Good quality, stuff that will make people trade for them. In return, I won't leak these photos. And, if you behave, I'll even fund your tuition to that fancy academy you were bubbling about."

Jude relaxes his grip, sliding his fingers up into Connor's hair. "Oh, and I get to keep you as my plaything." The blond strokes Connor's brunet hair, then grips it at the base of his skull. "Do you have a deal?"
 
“You’re awful. You’re a horrible person,” Connor mumbles and he would turn his head away, but the grip on his chin is too tight. He’s afraid of pulling away. Jude is handsome and his arm is a beautiful piece of tech, but he’s growing uglier on the inside by the second. He’s being blackmailed. A nobody who happens to have a little talent for cyber tech.

There’s so much that Jude gets out of this deal, where he gets nothing at all. His dream school won’t reject him or indecency and the people he knows won’t judge him for being a whore, but Jude gets all the good things out of the deal. The tech, the money, his body—and all Connor gets it spared from shame and embarrassment.

“I hate you,” he breathes and he means it more than he’s ever meant anything before. But there’s no other option here. Connor can feel himself crying as his hair is gripped and he hates himself for it, but he hates Jude even more. “Deal.”
 
Jude chuckles, relaxing his grip on Connor's hair. "I'm a criminal, Connor." Jude licks away a tear, then kisses Connor hard. His grip on Connor's jaw tightens until the boy gasps, and Jude's tongue slides into his mouth. He licks Connor's tongue, the roof of his mouth, then his lips as he pulls his head back. "I'll make sure you enjoy it every time I fuck you. I'll even fuel your drinking habit."

Jude sighs lightly, tilting his head. "Damn, horny again. You're just too cute, especially when you're angry. Maybe you should help me out." The blond smirks, sliding his hand from Connor's jaw to his wrist, then placing the boy's hand on his cock. "Give me a hand."
 

A warm tongue licks his cheek and he shudders unpleasantly. That same tongue uses his uncontrollable gasp as an opportunity to delve inside his mouth, invading every inch, and leaving him out of breath. He hates that he can’t control his own heartbeat or breathing. “I won’t enjoy it,” he bites back and he doesn’t even want to think about alcohol. “I hate you.”

He’s grimacing when Jude grabs his hand and brings it to his hardening cock. There’s no point in arguing. He knows that. Jude is heavy and hot against his palm, prominent veins and a glistening tip. Maybe in another situation, he would be turned on and willing to help, but he’s not now. The way he squeezes the man from base to tip, letting him feel the pressure of his fingers against the underside of his cock, is almost mechanical. Steady and firm. There’s no joy in it. If Jude wants a handjob, he’ll give him one, but he refuses to enjoy it.
 
Jude raises an eyebrow, setting one hand on Connor's shoulder. Pressure encourages Connor to kneel down. "Come on, Connor. Just think. You won't have to worry about student loans or debt, you'll make a name for yourself as a prosthetic creator. I'll be supplying your materials, and who knows? Mayne you'll make an all new, better prosthetic."

Jude thrusts into Connor's hands, and also manages to brush his tip against the boy's cheek in the process. He's standing so close to Connor, after all. His hand moves again, from the boy's shoulder to his hair, preventing him from jerking away. "You can do better than that."
 
No debt did sound nice, but it wasn’t enough to sweeten the deal. Nothing would be. Connor only feels trapped and used, like a cheap street whore whose only purpose is to pleasure others. He’ll be making tech for Jude, not for himself, and that’s not what he wants. It’s not what he’s ever wanted. “And then what? You’ll own all my prosthetics? All my hard work?” He sniffles out the words and he knows he must sound as pathetic as he looks. “None of its going to be mine.”

Kneeling down hurts so much, but even that doesn’t compare to the pain in his chest. The tip of Jude’s cock brushes his cheek and he knows he’s not doing a good enough job. Jude wants enthusiasm, wants to be fawned over and given a reason to keep his end of the bargain. Connor can only suck up his anger, his sadness, and do as he’s told. There’s a noticeable change in the way he strokes Jude now, putting more pressure with his thumb, giving the tip the occasional brush. It helps to pretend that he isn’t being forced to do this. Now he’s giving Jude a proper handjob, going out of his way to make the man good.
 
Jude groans as Connor puts more effort into the handjob. He still thrusts in his hands, but he's clearly more pleased with Connor's compliance. "Of course not. It's your tech. It'll have your name on it. Your decision on whether it's good to sell. I just get to profit from it. Of course, if you don't give me anything to sell, I won't be happy. But if there's something you want to design just for yourself I won't say no."

Jude hums in approval, then curls his fingers in Connor's hair. "Let me feel your mouth, Connor. Be a good boy." Jude thrusts again, tip brushing Connor's lips this time.
 
Connor hesitates, with the man’s cock brushing against his lips. Not rejecting the request, but genuinely feeling shocked. He thought for sure that Jude would want to steal the credit for his work. Most people would. But the man’s making it clear that he’ll have more say in his work than he was expecting. The freedom to say what’s good or bad, to put his name on his work as he sees fit. It’s still not great. If anyone ever discovered that he made tech for the black market, he would never be allowed in any respected institution or workplace ever again. And Jude is still keeping all the profit. But it could be much worse, he knows. Jude could make this so much worse.

“Okay,” he sighs shakily and leans forward, but not to swallow Jude down immediately. He tilts his head and moves further down, to the base. Wets his tongue and drags it across the underside of the man’s hard cock against a dark vein. About halfway up, then repeats the action twice, before slowly licking his way to the tip. Curls his tongue around it, light and teasing, and only then wraps his lips around his erection. Stretching the already sore muscles of his jaw, taking it slow, but showing Jude that he’d rather take the deal than suffer by rejecting it.
 
Jude groans lightly, pleased, blue eyes watching Connor's actions. Sure, he's offering Connor all these extras, and he's a man of his word. But it means the boy will be more compliant. Jude will get what he wants, money and Connor's body, plus free maintenance for his arm. When Connor finally takes Jude into his mouth, the man moans.

Then his holo-cell rings. Jude doesn't hesitate, answering the call. His grip on Connor's hair warns the boy against stopping. "This is Jude.. What?.. Oh, no I'll be there.. No, I'm just taking care of business.." Jude smirks at whatever the person on the other end of the call is saying. "You dirty bastard.. Alright, fine."

Jude tightens his grip on Connor's hair, lowering the cell down by his hip. Then he thrusts pulls Connor's head forward, likely making the boy gag. There's laughter from the cell as Jude lifts it to his ear. His grip relaxes on Connor, but he doesn't let him lift off his cock. "Enough proof for you? Relax, I'll be there in half an hour." Jude hangs up, shaking his head and chuckling.
 
The ringing of the holo-cell makes Connor jump a little, but the hand in his hair is firm and guides him to continue. So he does, cheeks burning. Trying to listen to the conversation as he focuses on breathing through his nose, taking Jude as far he can before pulling back. Teasing every inch of skin he can with his tongue, adding on the barest hint of teeth with every other thrust.

He doesn’t know what the person on the other end wants. Jude thrusts hard as he pulls him down and he feels the head of the man’s cock hit the back of his throat, causing him to gag and moan. His throat clenches around the man, but the hand in his hair is a reminder that he can’t just pull away. His hands are on Jude’s thighs, holding himself steady, eyes closed and watering as he tries not to gag again.
 
Jude relaxes after a moment, but still doesn't let Connor go. His hips are rolling now, thrusting his cock into the boy's mouth. Soft moans fall from his lips. "You look hot like this, on your knees, my cock in your mouth." Jude smirks, moaning again.

Gradually, his thrusting picks up pace. His hands are holding Connor's head, leaving the boy to just keep up. After almost five minutes, Jude drags Connor's head forward again, grunts once, then groans heavily as he spills his seed down the boy's throat. He holds Connor's head down until the boy swallows. Once he releases Connor, Jude wipes the corner of his mouth with his right hand, the cyberskin warm. "Good boy, Connor. I have to go to a meeting. Don't try to leave the bedroom. I'll have men stationed outside the door, ask them if you want breakfast." Jude leans down and kisses Connor, then leaves the bathroom.
 
It was a small consolation to be told that he was hot. He supposes he wouldn’t have been offered this deal if Jude found him unattractive. The man picks up the pace and Connor tries his best to keep up, closing his eyes and falling into a rhythm. It feels like twenty minutes pass before Jude tenses, grabs him tightly, and spills down his throat. There’s no choice but to swallow every drop, being released with a slick sound and a gasp. He’s half-hard himself with nothing to hide it, a fact that he tries his best to ignore. It’s no surprise he’s not allowed to leave the room, but it is a surprise that Jude bothers to kiss him goodbye. “I’ll...be here, I guess,” he mumbles and watches the man leave.

He stays on the bathroom floor for a while, then finally gathers the strength to stand, unsure of what to do. Not that he can do much. He aches all over and can’t leave the bedroom. So he settles for hopping into the shower. Sitting down in the tub and trying to piece himself back together. He’s too tired to cry. When he steps out, he knows that there’s really nothing here for him to wear, and reluctantly finds a too-big pair of Jude’s boxers and a baggy shirt to pull on. Of course, he also can’t find his phone anywhere in the mess of dirty clothes, which means he either left it at the bar or in his own apartment.

Jude specifically stated not to leave the room, but Connor had no clue what he’s supposed to do until the man gets back from his meeting. Sleep? He could, but he’s not comfortable enough to. Eat? He’s hungry, but he doesn’t want their food. He would rather run away to find his own. Although would it count as running away if he plans to return? Jude has plenty of blackmail, so it’s not like he can just leave and never come back. Well, he might kill Connor for taking the small bit of money left on the dresser. Connor doesn’t know. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, he reasons. One glance out the window is all he needs to see that he’s about four stories up. Too high to jump. That’s what leads him to tie all the bedsheets and blankets he can find together, into a makeshift rope. He ties one end of the rope to the bed frame, prays that his arms don’t give out, and tosses the other end out the window. Taking a deep breath, he grabs onto the sheet, and starts the slow descent downward.

He doesn’t care too much that he’s barefoot when he hits the ground, more upset about the fact that his shorts keep falling down and the t-shirt covering him is more like a dress. Or that every step hurts like a bitch and he can’t stop limping. He’s never seen Jude’s apartment complex before but he finds a street sign. Connor is a pathetic, alcoholic loser, but he’s not stupid. Well maybe he’s an idiot, but he’s an intelligent idiot. He gains a couple odd glances, but in this city, no one cares about a half-dressed guy climbing out of a window. It takes maybe ten minutes for him to walk to a nearby coffee shop, order something to eat and a drink to go, and head back to the apartment. He doesn’t use the window to get back up, but walks through the main lobby, estimating where Jude’s apartment must be.

Connor rings the doorbell like a civilized human and stuffs his mouth full of pastry like a very uncivilized child.
 
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The meeting was brief enough that Jude is coming back barely a minute after Connor had stepped into the elevator to the top floor. As such, he's stepping out of the elevator just as one man that had been stationed outside the bedroom is opening the apartment door. Seeing Connor outside, a half eaten pastry in hand, and his man holding the door open, Jude is not happy.

Jude stalks down the hall to wrap his prosthetic right fingers around Connor's left bicep, tightly. There's daggers in his eyes as he shoves the boy past his man. "I will deal with you and your failure later." The man visibly pales. Through the open concept living room/kitchen, past the spare bedroom, open office room, and spare bathroom. The second guard at the bedroom also pales and rushes to open the bedroom door.

Inside, Jude shoves Connor down on the bed. He takes away the remainder of the pastry, dropping it on the bedside table. Then he kneels over Connor's waist and grips his hair, pulling his head back on the bed. "You disobeyed. I don't think you realize your situation. You belong to me now, Connor. You don't get to run free on the streets."
 
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