The Bad Life Chapter 5.3 - Sweet Submission

Hugh touched Jerome’s hair. George, sitting nearby, watched the two boys with an increasingly cold gaze. It was a mess. There was no way to guess what kind of relationship they had or what they were doing.

At that moment, Hugh’s attention, which had been focused on Jerome, suddenly shifted to me. His deep blue eyes sparkled as he spoke.

<No need to be so down, Jerome. Our Raymond pulled off something interesting today.>

I bit my lip and lowered my head. From now on, all I had to do was endure.

George, sitting beside me, suddenly grabbed the back of my head and yanked it back sharply. My head jolted up. George looked at me with a merciless expression.

George asked in a flat, indifferent tone.

<Is it true, Raymond?>

<Ugh… No, it’s not…>

Tears welled up instantly. I glanced at Hugh and Jerome. Hugh was watching me with an intrigued expression. Above all, Jerome was suffocating me. The boy who had just been leaning on his friend with a gloomy face was now staring at me with eerily glittering eyes. His half-open lips gleamed with anticipation. He was a crazy bastard.

<This fucker’s lying too.>

George said coldly. He reached out, shoved his fingers roughly into my mouth, and pulled at my lips.

<Did you suck dick with this, or not? Did you swallow cum, or not?>

George suddenly added in a softer tone.

<Did you beg for help to escape, or not?>

Instead of answering, I just let tears stream down. George gave a chilling smile. He shoved my head down to the floor. I fell off the couch, collapsing onto the floor, sobbing. George looked down at me coldly and said,

Trembling, I got up. Simon stood behind the couch like a stone, looking down at me. For some reason, his face seemed colder than usual. Was it because he left with Carl at the diner this morning? Or was he angry because I tried to escape? Did this lunatic really believe he was playing some love game with me?

Either way, it was equally absurd. I turned my eyes away from Simon and began unbuttoning my shirt with trembling hands. As I slowly undid each button, Jerome’s voice suddenly came from behind.

<Did you beg?>

Jerome asked.

<Did you plead? Did you threaten? To whom? When? Raymond, do you still have the energy for this?>

No way. He was just starting to hate me—giving him hope wouldn’t do. Without turning to look at Jerome, I answered with shaking shoulders.

<S-Sorry… I… ugh, no, I didn’t… it wasn’t like that…>

I mumbled incoherently, and George’s face, sitting in front of me, twisted into a sneer. There was even a hint of triumph in his smile. That smile was definitely aimed at Jerome. But I pretended not to notice, lowered my head, and slowly unbuttoned my shirt. Jerome said nothing more.

I took off my shirt, pants, underwear, and shoes, then crouched down. George stared at me silently before standing up. He reached behind me, then returned to his seat. In George’s hand was Jerome’s riding crop.

My breath quickened. It looked like I was about to be whipped. George tapped my crouched knees lightly with the crop. He slid the crop between my knees, twisting it as if to signal me to spread them. I wanted to kill George out of shame. I wanted to rip open that fucking bastard’s stomach and crush his insides while he was still alive. One day, I would definitely do it. But for now, I had to obediently spread my legs.

Half out of anger, half to deceive George, I let tears fall as I slowly spread my legs. The cold leather brushed against my parted thighs. George tapped my genitals with the loop of the crop. It wasn’t a sexual touch. It was purely to humiliate and shame me, out of curiosity, like tapping an animal’s balls. He prodded my penis and testicles with the crop, then suddenly raised his hand high. George swung the crop down toward my genitals.

I screamed and closed my legs. The crop ended up awkwardly striking my knee. George pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. I clung to his knees, crying and begging.

<Please, please! George! I was wrong! Please, ugh, it hurts, it hurts, don’t do it…>

That fucking bastard really tried to whip my genitals! Crazy fucker!

My body trembled with shock. The knee that got whipped didn’t even hurt. The fear that had just swept through me seemed to have temporarily numbed my body’s senses.

<Yeah, no need to rip off a kid’s dick. You shouldn’t hit there.>

Hugh chimed in from behind.

Still clinging to George’s knees, I looked back. I wanted to see Jerome’s face too. Jerome, whose face had been so radiant just moments ago, was now sunken in gloom, slouched weakly on the couch. But Hugh still had a bright, lively, excited expression. He stood up abruptly and moved to sit next to George.

Hugh patted his own knees.

I stared blankly, not understanding. Hugh grinned.

<Hurry up. If you did something wrong, you need to be punished. Come here and lie across.>

Compared to what happened in the stables, this was much better, but the shame and humiliation were still hard to bear. Tears streaming down, I lay across Hugh’s knees. I could feel him gently stroking my bare buttocks with his palm. It was like disciplining a five-year-old child’s butt. The hand that had been gently stroking suddenly struck my buttocks like lightning.

A scream came out naturally, without faking it. The sound of flesh slapping echoed loudly as his palm struck. My buttocks quickly burned. I trembled, curling my toes tightly.

Hugh said. I closed my eyes tightly and trembled. I was terrified, not knowing when his hand would come down again. Another smack landed on my buttocks.

<He only comes to his senses when he’s beaten.>

My buttocks were hot. As Hugh painfully kneaded my burning buttocks, he slid a finger into the crease. He roughly inserted a finger into my hole. I couldn’t hold back a groan of pain.

<Relax.>

Hugh said, lightly smacking my buttocks. I barely relaxed. Hugh inserted only his middle finger. I could guess the implication, and my face flushed red with humiliation. With his middle finger deep inside, Hugh smacked my buttocks again.

<Agh!>

<This fucker’s tightening up even while getting hit.>

Hugh said with a laugh in his voice. He roughly bent the finger inside my hole and continued.

<He likes it even when he’s being punished, so what can you do with this fucker?>

<Ugh, ugh, s-sorry… sorry, Hugh… ugh.>

I mumbled incoherently through tears. I felt a hand stroking the back of my head.

<You know you did wrong, huh?>

I nodded frantically at Hugh’s words. Then Hugh said.

<Then decide, Raymond. How many hits do you want?>

I couldn’t answer. Hugh, still stroking the back of my head, said.

<Can’t decide? Let’s hear what you did wrong first. Tell me one by one.>

I couldn’t respond. I wasn’t sure where to begin or how much to say. As I racked my brain, Hugh lightly smacked my buttocks. I flinched in shock.

<Don’t stall. I’m tired from seeing off friends today. I want to sleep soon.>

<I… ugh, Simon… Simon…>

I looked at Simon, as if pleading for help. But Simon just looked down at me silently, then took a step back. Hugh burst out laughing.

<Raymond, Simon’s pissed off too! You tried to run away from us, didn’t you? How disappointed must Simon be? After all the affection he showed you, you were scheming to escape behind his back.>

<No, that’s not, ugh, Hugh… Hugh… please…>

I stammered incoherently.

<Too, ugh, too scared… ugh, the stables… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… can’t you stop now?>

I clung to Hugh’s knees as I spoke. Their gazes poured down on me. George’s stern eyes, Simon’s indifferent glance, and Hugh’s cheerful look all turned toward me.

<Let me go… let me escape… I, I really, really can’t do this anymore…>

<You’re supposed to confess what you did wrong, so why are you spouting nonsense?>

George said coldly. He handed the riding crop he was holding to Hugh. Seeing it, I screamed and begged.

<Please! No! Please! Nooo!>

Ignoring my pleas, Hugh struck my buttocks with the riding crop.

<Aaagh!>

My body jolted with pain. The crop struck my buttocks again. It hurt like hell. Tears and saliva dripped onto the carpet below.

Hugh said.

<Asking to be let go is a no-no, Raymond. You haven’t even done anything yet.>

He spoke softly.

<We’re going to have a really fun vacation this time. The semester just ended today, and you’re asking to be let go, Raymond, oh, to be let go—that’s too much.>

As he finished speaking, Hugh struck my buttocks with the crop again. It felt like my skin would tear, but not a drop of blood flowed. It was just searing and agonizing, like being burned. Tears streamed down, and Hugh pulled his finger out of my hole. He said to me.

<Now go apologize to each one of them. Raymond, go to Jerome.>

Before I could even get off Hugh, Jerome spoke.

<I’m good.>

<Jerome, just try it once. It’ll make you feel much better.>

Hugh said. They were treating me like a toy, tossing words back and forth.

I crawled off Hugh and approached Jerome. Jerome looked at me coldly, a bit gloomy but also genuinely displeased. Without joy, Jerome’s face actually looked a bit more normal than before.

I avoided his eyes and climbed onto Jerome’s lap. Leaning into Jerome’s embrace, I pushed my buttocks toward his knees. Jerome held my waist awkwardly, half-embracing and half-pushing me away, before placing his hand on my buttocks.

He struck me lightly once. But something was strange. When Jerome touched me, a shiver ran down my spine for some reason. He had only lightly smacked my buttocks, yet the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My thighs tensed instantly. Jerome noticed my body stiffening in his arms. I could feel his gaze fixed on me, staring down.

I cautiously raised my eyes. I looked silently into his cold green eyes, then carefully, deliberately, slowly, kissed Jerome. It was half a whim and half a test. Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips against his. I slightly extended my tongue, brushing the tip along his smooth lips.

There was no reaction from Jerome. It was as if his body had frozen, completely unresponsive. I opened my eyes. Jerome’s eyes, right in front of me, were stained with a cold sneer.

Still with our lips touching, Jerome whispered.

I slowly pulled away from Jerome. He had definitely fallen for it. There was no need to be wary of him anymore. Not only that, he seemed to despise and loathe me now, even reluctant to touch me. That kiss had confirmed a lot.

I climbed off Jerome’s lap and crawled toward Simon. Simon didn’t hit me. He just looked down at me silently. Then George struck my buttocks. From start to finish, he disciplined me thoroughly with his palm.

The punishment didn’t end there. Hugh, saying he’d fix my bad habit of sucking dick recklessly, made me lie on the table. Like a frog on a dissection table, I had to lie with my legs spread, enduring Hugh handling me as he pleased. He said that since I was a rag, I should be able to take anything, so instead of a horse’s dick, he’d shove in a riding crop. When the thick handle went in about half a hand’s length, I couldn’t bear the pain and screamed.

But by then, aside from the damn pain, I didn’t even feel shame anymore. I let them play with me as they pleased. Fortunately, Hugh’s claim of wanting to sleep soon wasn’t a lie, and though it was excruciating, the punishment ended earlier than expected.

As soon as the punishment was over, Jerome, with a disgusted expression, picked up his gloves and riding crop and left. Hugh and George also returned to their rooms. Simon didn’t wash me that day. I crouched alone in the bathroom, washed myself, and returned to my room exhausted.

As soon as I entered the room, I saw Simon. He was already lying in bed. I stood at the door, looking at Simon, then leaned against the door and slid down to the floor. Sitting with my knees drawn up, I let tears stream silently. It was purely to get Simon’s attention. I needed to restore the affection Simon had for me. Since Simon was easily swayed by small actions, deceiving him wasn’t difficult.

As I kept crying, leaning against the door, a shadow finally fell over me. I lifted my tear-streaked face. Simon stood there with a stoic expression.

I wiped my tears. Simon, who had been standing firmly, slowly sank to the floor. He hugged me, pressing his forehead against mine. Simon whispered so softly it was barely audible.

<I was angry at you…>

He mumbled.

<I’m sorry.>

I didn’t respond. That was surely what Simon wanted. He wasn’t sitting there, forehead to forehead, to have a conversation with me. Since Simon had come close, all I had to do was keep my mouth shut and let him lead.

Simon sat like that for a while, then, as if handling a fragile porcelain bowl, took me to the bed. He laid me down, covered me with a blanket, and started to leave, so I grabbed the hem of his clothes. We looked at each other in the darkness.

<Don’t go.>

I said in a voice as weak and small as Simon’s.

<I want to sleep together…>

Simon stood still in the darkness for a moment, then slowly pulled back the blanket. I waited for him to lie down on the bed. I didn’t burrow into his arms. I just lay there quietly as Simon had positioned me.

After a few minutes, Simon pulled me into his embrace. Since we were both big boys, the bed was a bit cramped. We lay there, pressed tightly against each other, breathing quietly. I pulled one of Simon’s legs between mine and whispered.

<I want to sleep…>

Simon’s body stiffened. Had I made a mistake? Had I gotten too close? My body tensed up too.

<Then… you need a shot.>

Simon said after a long pause.

Thank goodness. It wasn’t a mistake. I nodded, my head still resting in Simon’s embrace. Simon got up. I waited for him to leave the bed, took another breath, and slowly tilted my head back… Simon was pulling a book from the fourth shelf…

I quickly turned my head back and closed my eyes. So that’s where he hid it. Excitement surged through me, my body tingling as if electrified. He hid the shot there! My body felt like it was floating with joy.

Soon, Simon came back with a syringe. Once I got this shot, I’d fall asleep, and while I was asleep, Simon would rape me as he pleased, but that didn’t matter. Even the throbbing pain in my beaten buttocks didn’t matter. With this joy, I felt like I could laugh even if he raped me, beat my buttocks, or spit in my face.

Simon gave me the shot. Leaning into his embrace, I slowly closed my eyes. Sleepiness washed over me. The excitement subsided. Before falling asleep, I prayed desperately until the last moment. The fourth shelf, the fourth shelf, please, when I wake up, let me never forget the fourth shelf.