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CLU gave the boy to Rinzler, for a job that was well beneath his rank and abilities. He was an escort, a guard, doing the grunt work of leading the boy to his holding cell in preparation for the next Game. Yet Rinzler was smart and capable and the boy was different - a User. The Program absorbed every aspect of him; how his body swayed when he walked, how his footsteps revealed he put more pressure on his right leg, how his breathing changed when he was hit in the back of the knees and face-planted on the hard floor. He was processing and he was learning and it was just as CLU wanted.
He'd known a User long ago - forgotten now - but the movements and elements that made up this boy lit some flame of recognition within him. It was nagging, verging on aggravating or even maddening, and when they reached the cell he shoved Sam inside out of sheer annoyance.
Sam looked back, mustering a nasty expression he knew would be lost on the mysterious being. Rinzler paused, disciplined body frozen in place like a tin soldier waiting to be wound. Sam expected the door to close but it did not, and before he could open his mouth to question it, Rinzler stormed forward, making him recoil in surprise.
The door slid shut from behind, locking into place with a soothing yet definitive woosh of air and ironically dainty click. Rinzler had the boy backed against the wall of the tiny compartment, head moving slowly up and down over his body, taking in his entire image. This User was already in his database but he didn't know where. The jaw line, the eye color - they were the same, he had seen them before, and he had to search in the recesses of his mind to pull the information he desired.
As Rinzler stood there, unmoving, studying him and grunting at random, Sam felt his patience wear thin. This place fucking blew. Yeah, the lights were strangely euphoric and there were machines humanity could only dream about, but was that worth suffering this freakfest?
"You want something?" Sam snapped, growing tired of staring at his own distorted reflection in the Program's helmet. It was like speaking to himself and after almost single-handedly conquering the Bouncing Death-Disc game (or whatever-the-fuck), he didn't care to be ignored. He made a move to sidestep away, but the second he stirred a palm slammed into his chest, pushing him back against the wall and instigating a burning bruise.
A yelp of surprise escaped him. He expected some kind of repercussion, but did not imagine it to be quite as violent. Rinzler kept his hand resting on Sam's chest, above his heart, and for a moment Sam envisioned a touching scene where his captor realized they weren't so different after all and aided him in a valiant, though grossly flamboyant, escape.
Rinzler's hand started moving slowly downwards, feeling around the curves of his pectorals. Sam turned his head towards the wall, shrinking as far away as he could from the strange touch. Another hand soon joined the first on his body, starting lower near his waist. It felt briefly over the muscles of his abdomen before turning to his hip and squeezing sharply around the bone. Sam groaned and tensed and Rinzler paused, intrigued by the reaction.
The groping continued, slowly and intricately as if the Program was trying to physically scan his body into memory. He dug his palm into Sam’s chest and dragged it down over a nipple. Sam's jaw clenched and a deep breath escaped him; a much different reaction than Rinzler had previously been receiving. He immediately repeated the action, eliciting more ragged breaths from the User.
"What are you doing?" Sam managed, unwilling to believe a Program was trying to molest him, but still fearful of the prospect. His body was betraying him and he didn’t need to get a hard-on in a skin-tight suit in front of some ‘guy.’
He was rewarded not with an explanation but a harsher assault on his body. Rinzler searched him more quickly, hands hooking around his torso and flying over the curves of his arms. He pressed harshly at times, to the extent of punching, drawing out a few disgruntled “Oofs” from his victim. Rinzler went lower, past the boy’s hips to his thighs and groin, kneading the skin there, looking for the same splendid reaction as before.
Sam’s erection was growing – he could feel the pressure building inside and the resistance of the insanely tight fabric against his groin became more troublesome. He exhaled deeply to calm himself, hoping arousal was foreign to the Program and he would ignore the awkward change in his body. But Rinzler was paying extra attention to the bulge between Sam’s legs that seemed to lengthen and twitch at his touch. He cocked his head, watching the User’s face, not in curiosity but in knowing. He was expectant, and his hands moved in calculated circles, signifying he wasn’t as out of touch with the workings of humanity as Sam had hoped.
Sam went cold and he began resisting more fervently, twisting and tugging, trying to shake the Program’s hands off him.
"What the hell, man!" he all but shrieked, bucking his hips in anger and ironically thrusting his crotch further into his molester’s hand.
Rinzler gripped Sam’s shoulder to stabilize him and kicked his legs to the side, leaving his groin exposed once again. He dragged his palm up and down the length of his cock, reveling in the shivers streaking through the younger man’s body; drawn to the hypnotic rhythm of his increased heartbeat.
Sam thrashed violently, throwing his arms out to push Rinzler from him, but the Program’s speed was impressive and he knocked his hands away before they could reach. His arm snaked around to the back of Sam's head, twisting fingers into his hair. He pressed up against him and Sam was surprised to find the Program was just as aroused.
Rinzler rubbed his erection against the crotch of Sam's pants, pulling his head back tightly, leaving him helpless. He craved the energy and the heat and the knowledge. He had to know the User - had to understand how he worked - and his need to link their systems was uncontrollable.
Sam grabbed at Rinzler's arms but didn't try to push him away, instead creating a buffer between him and the other's increasing intensity. He uttered an "Ah-" as if he wished to protest but his mind prevented it. He fought the pleasure, focusing on the reality of the situation and how wrong and weird it truly was. Yet Rinzler wasn't human...it wasn't like doing this with a real man. He was a program in a computer and this was some virtual reality sex game they'd pay billions for in Japan.
Sam felt Rinzler's cock grow harder as he thrashed against him more forcefully. A guttural purr escaped from inside his helmet, waking Sam from his lustful trance; jolted by a sound innocent and familiar yet disturbing and bizarre. The Program couldn't be getting enjoyment out of this. He couldn't be feeling anything.
Sam's stomach began to sink. There were only so many places they could go from here and he somehow didn't think Rinzler the giving type. He jerked his body away again, with as little success as he enjoyed previously. In punishment, Rinzler tightened his grip on the boy’s hair and jerked back with such force Sam's back arched sharply. He grunted and threw a hand out against the wall to stabilize himself while putting up a good, though useless fight. Rinzler continued pulling backwards until he was forced to kneel or crash to the ground. His head was put upright, uncomfortably close, Sam found, to the Program's groin. Part of him felt sick, embarrassed, but logic still dictated this was an entity of numbers and pixels and however bad the situation would appear back in the real world, it wasn't compromising here.
Rinzler loosened his hold and slowly began massaging Sam's head, running his fingers through his hair in a sensual manner that did nothing to ease the young man’s nerves. Sam thought it a perfect opportunity to try to get away again, but in an instant the same harsh grip assaulted him. He gasped at the sudden force, scalp burning like it might be ripped off. He ceased struggling, one eye staring into the blackness of Rinzler's suit and the other tightly shut.
Even in the dim light Sam could see that pieces of Rinzler’s suit were beginning to fragment; pixels shifting away from his body and dissipating into the air. It started slowly, like fabric being unwoven by a single thread, but soon the section that covered his groin was gone, leaving blocks of remnants plastered to the rest of his body.
Sam tried to pull away, repulsed by his close proximity to another man’s penis, and gripped with fear at the prospect of what was to come. He growled, "No way," and as soon as the words left his mouth, he was forced closer. He grabbed Rinzler's legs in resistance, but the Program gave a quick jerk, throwing him off balance and landing his head inches from his crotch. Rinzler gripped his erection, smacking Sam in the side of the face with his cock in a demeaning invitation to do his job.
Sam shook his head, repeating, "No," over and over again, sometimes forcefully, sometimes too high-pitched. Rinzler kneed him in the chest, bruising his ribs and knocking the wind out of him. He grabbed at Sam’s neck, choking him though Sam scrambled to his knees in an effort to comply.
As soon as the hand left his neck it was in his mouth, stretching his lips and prying open his jaw. At this point Sam shut his eyes, breathing strained, accepting though no less enjoying of his fate. Resistance would make the ordeal last a million times longer and Sam knew he had no chance of overthrowing the Program.
Rinzler slid his cock into the boy’s mouth and Sam allowed it to happen, giving only a whimper in protest. He readjusted his jaw and did his best to open wide so the assailant barely brushed against the top or bottom. Rinzler was displeased and grasped the sides of Sam’s head, forcing him to clench down harder. He pulled his skull up and down his shaft roughly to encourage correct behavior, allowing no time for Sam to adjust. Sam’s immediate reaction was to close his throat, but he choked, unable to breathe. His eyes watered and he salivated, making pathetic gurgling noises.
He finally ripped Rinzler’s hands away and reluctantly tried to give head without the other’s help. At the very least he could ensure he wouldn’t suffocate or throw up. It was logical and necessary for self-preservation, and when it was all over he could tell himself he had no choice.
He began slowly, brow wrinkling in unease and jaw tight as he lead the thick cock further back down his throat. He shifted his weight and brought a hand up to grasp close to the hilt, hoping to relieve some of his mouth’s work by jerking Rinzler with his hand.
Rinzler gave a deep, gruff sigh of pleasure, resting a palm on top of Sam’s head. He stretched his neck uncomfortably in his suit as a disgruntled groan escaped him. Sam heard the whirling of plates and gears and brought his eyes up to see the Program’s helmet collapse into itself. Staring back was a shockingly familiar face, not much older looking than his own, but one which was twice as cold and twice as hardened.
Sam gagged and pulled back harshly, but Rinzler kept him pinned. He continued struggling, teeth scraping the soft skin of Rinzler’s cock until the other man was forced to take time out to re-discipline him. Sam fell backwards onto his ass, drool dripping from his mouth which hung agape.
"Alan?" he choked, heart tightening. The Program stared back, completely still and unresponsive like an empty shell. He was younger than Alan, but resembled him closely, and Sam took a sharp breath in as realization hit.
"Tron?"
**
CLU frowned when Rinzler removed his mask, in opposition to direct orders dictating he wear it always. Yet, the comical and traumatized reaction elicited from Sam vanquished any annoyance the leader held.
He sat in his quarters, on his favorite couch, enjoying the spectacle unfold before him on security cameras. He gave the boy to Rinzler, just to see what he would do, and CLU was not disappointed.
The son of his creator-turned-enemy exposed and assaulted excited him in more ways than one. He entertained the thought that Sam would not be derezzed in the Light Cycle arena, but survive long enough that he may have a chance to play with him as well. That would kill Flynn.
These fantasies were new territory for CLU, who worked hard to be single-minded and to the point. Accosting Sam held no purpose other than tickling his own fancy and emotionally scarring his enemy, and it seemed a dangerous yet intoxicating change of tactic.
He stood, his helmet and overcoat retracting into themselves, leaving him to move in his suit swiftly and unrestricted.
**
Rinzler grabbed Sam’s head again before he had time to recover from shock and offer resistance. He forced his cock back into the User’s mouth, moving his head up and down the shaft manually. It was uncomfortable and degrading before, but now Sam felt dirty and used and somehow betrayed. It wasn’t him, he knew, but the idea of being molested by his father figure was jarring, and he couldn’t help but dwell on the fact he now knew how Alan’s cock felt in his mouth.
There was little effort left on Sam’s part, and Rinzler tired of the game. He opted to hold his head still while he shoved inside, quickly, mercilessly, uncaring of the tortured noises that escaped. Saliva seeped down the sides of Sam’s lips as he choked, creating a mess down his face and a slick covering over the Program’s length.
Rinzler jammed himself into the back of Sam’s throat and Sam fully expected to be ill. He pulled back slightly, resting the head of his cock on the back of Sam’s tongue. His fingers wrapped harshly in the boy’s hair as his hips gave short but intense thrusts. Sam braced for what he knew was coming and clenched his throat shut, refusing to be treated like any more of a whore than he already was.
A thick stream of cum shot onto his tongue, followed by another, and Sam did what he could to not throw up right then and there. Rinzler was rigid, letting the last drops dribble down naturally; the uneventful wait pushing Sam to madness. As soon as he removed himself, Sam doubled over. He tried to pool the cum together to spit out cleanly, but it trailed on his tongue and he found himself hacking and sputtering, cum and spit flying from his lips in a spray. Half splashed the floor and half was unwittingly swallowed.
Sam sat, feeling a strange sense of calm though his body shook anxiously. The situation spiraled from surreal to nightmarish and his mind had trouble keeping up. He rolled his tongue in his mouth, the salty and bitter taste of another man’s semen lingering. It was Alan’s semen, cried his mind, and his eyes watered and a sob escaped before he could regain control and blank out his thoughts.
Rinzler was quiet, he was spent, and Sam knew he was safe for a time. His clenched fists shook as they rested atop his legs. He tried to steady his breathing and slow his heartbeat because it was over, and to continue allowing it to upset him was irrational.
The Program hovered, still threatening, though Sam knew there was little else he could do to him that mattered. He refused to regard the other man – couldn’t bare to see his face – would rather be unprepared for a kick to the head than reaffirm Alan was his rapist.
Fingers hooked into the collar of his suit causing Sam to jump in surprise. Rinzler pulled backwards then up, strangling the User briefly before encouraging him to his feet. Sam stumbled to the wall, throwing a hand out to stop his face from slamming into it. For a second he was still, reaching an arm up to wipe his mouth clean before Rinzler caught his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back in a lock.
The Program pressed up against him, hard cock rubbing his backside, making Sam to gasp in alarm. He knew Rinzler wasn’t human but he didn’t expect him to recover that quickly.
“Al-” Sam caught himself, but had to take time to recompose as even the thought of confusing his rapist with his friend upset him greatly. He tried again, voice shaking.
“Tron, don’t.”
Rinzler stopped, and for a hopeful though foolish second, Sam believed he would let him go. The Program pulled Sam’s other arm behind his back, drew him to the side, and pushed him headfirst into a short, stiff bed attached to the wall of the cell. Sam crashed onto his knees, grabbing at the mattress to soften his fall.
Rinzler was already behind him, forcing his head into the mattress and pulling his hips up. He placed a foot between Sam’s legs, swiping them apart. His free hand groped around Sam’s legs, leaving pixels and fragments in its trail.
“Don’t, don’t!” Sam yelled, voice cracking. His muscles tightened and he gripped the sheets on the bed like a vice. His pleas were disregarded; Rinzler guiding his cock up against the User’s bare ass as he screamed in protest. He tried pushing in dry, causing Sam to yelp and tense.
"Ah - fuck! It won’t work! Stop!”
Rinzler thrust harder, part of his cockhead slipping in before he pulled back out. Sam’s legs shook and he braced himself best he could, knowing it useless to try and reason with someone who didn't understand the concept. A great anxiety washed over him and he fought back tears, not knowing how much depravity he could endure.
Rinzler continued the assault, making it in a bit deeper each time. The pain was sharp and instantaneous and remained even after he pulled out. Sam finally gave up the last of his pride and allowed the agony to escape his lips. He groaned with each unsuccessful thrust, clawing at the sheets and burying his head in the bed, making pitiful, muffled sobs.
Rinzler pushed harder, succeeding in pressing the full head of his cock inside. Sam hoped he’d thrust in further, fuck him and get it over with, but he pulled out, allowing Sam’s anus to tighten again before forcing his cock in halfway.
Sam drooled into the sheets, face rubbing against the rough fabric with every thrust. The disgust and shame he felt for being fucked by another man was overshadowed by pain, and his only thought was to survive. He clasped his hands over his head and pressed down, hoping he could suffocate himself enough to be knocked unconscious.
Rinzler pulled out again, then stopped. There was a long, nerve-wracking pause before he leaned over and dug his teeth into the back of Sam’s neck. His suit began reconstructing itself and he stepped away and to Sam’s side before ceasing movement completely.
Sam let his body crumble backwards over his legs, head still pressed against the scratchy sheets. His fists clenched with the pulsing, burning pain, and he remained still, waiting for it to pass.
Speakers boomed from every corner of the room, their sound inescapable. A man spoke, voice warbled slightly by the electronic devices.
"I'll admit I’m somewhat surprised you moan like a whore.”
The voice sounded like Flynn - like his father - and for a split second Sam was panic-stricken, ashamed he should know of his condition. He scrambled to his feet before regaining his senses, cupping his genitals out of modesty.
The door to the cell slid open revealing CLU, standing proud, hands folded neatly in front of him.
“Hello, son.”
“CLU,” Sam acknowledged, trying to spit venom but failing miserably in his current state.
“Not today,” CLU responded, sliding over to him slowly, like a snake with nowhere pressing to be. “Today, you call me daddy.”
“Fuck off, you freak.”
“That’s no way to speak to your father,” CLU said, sauntering forward. “I missed you,” he purred as he placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders.
Sam flinched at the touch. He muttered, “Shut up,” but his voice held no strength of command. He kept his head down, not wanting to look Flynn’s Program in the eye. He even smelled familiar, like musk and plastic, and Sam couldn’t help but get lost in nostalgia. It was torturous to have his dad standing there, looking and sounding as he did the last he saw him. Some deeply suppressed part wanted to touch CLU, knowing he was not Flynn, just to experience a sensation he hadn’t felt since he was seven.
CLU looked down, admiring the tight curves of the suit against Sam’s body and pausing as he reached below the waist. “Are you hiding something?” he asked, grabbing at Sam’s wrists and tugging his hands away. CLU studied his cock but said nothing, expression remaining stern, and Sam found himself actually offended by the lack of reaction. The Program brought his face into the crook of Sam’s neck, running his tongue from the edge of his jaw to the lobe of his ear. Sam shuddered, regretting ever desiring the older man’s attention. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, wishing his mind far away from the small cell.
CLU’s hands traveled down Sam’s suit, breaking it apart as they went. The torso fragmented and disappeared, followed soon after by the fabric covering his legs. Though the most important part of him had already been exposed, when the cold air danced over the rest of his skin he felt even more vulnerable.
The Program massaged back up Sam’s thighs, right hand cupping his balls. Sam jumped, hitting the back of his head on the wall. He cursed and pushed against CLU’s chest, but the man was practically on top of him. CLU massaged and gently tugged, drawing sharp breaths from Sam. He ran his tongue over the User’s neck, hot and wet, nipping at his shoulder.
The anger drained from Sam, replaced with fear and emptiness. He had a chance to reunite with his father, if only in image, but the touch was distressing and wrong and not what he craved. He pleaded frailly for CLU to stop, face burning and eyes watering.
“How polite. That’s the son I raised.” CLU breathed the words into the boy’s ear, breath hot and voice deep, and Sam’s body shivered with repulsion and desire. He felt his cock twitch and hated himself more than he ever had before.
CLU grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him down as he sat on the bed. He parted his legs, pulling Sam closer to sit between them, but Sam grabbed at his knees, keeping a safe distance. Reality came rushing back and the User spat defiantly, “I’m not sucking you off, asshole.”
CLU half-wondered if Flynn’s son was stupid enough to believe the things he said. His fist connected with Sam’s jaw with a sharp pop that sent him crashing to the floor.
“Again, Sam. Say it again.”
Sam wheezed but remained insolent, able to repeat only half the sentence before CLU stood and kicked him in the stomach. He gasped for breath and curled into a ball, ready to absorb another strike. There was no point. He knew there wasn’t. Soon he’d have two black eyes and half his teeth and the end result would remain the same. So he screamed no but didn’t mean it, because he knew he would comply once the pain became too much.
CLU kneeled on one leg next to him, rubbing his arm in a nurturing manner. He whispered words of comfort, in a tone that was more familiar – more like his father’s – and when the Program moved to lift him up, Sam followed. He sat on the bed again and Sam was between his legs, staring vacuously into space.
“That’s a good boy. We don’t have to fight,” he said, petting Sam’s cheek. CLU pulled his head into his lap, letting his lips and nose brush his erection. The younger man was breathing heavily and the wet heat penetrated his suit, making him shiver with anticipation. CLU parted Sam’s lips, running a thumb up and down his tongue.
“Take it in your mouth.”
Sam whimpered, still reeling from the assault, but managed to utter, “Fuck you.”
CLU grabbed the side of his face in a movement lightning-quick, thumb landing over his left eye which Sam quickly squeezed shut. He snarled, “Most of you is expendable.”
Sam's blood ran cold as the pressure grew. He could feel his eye twitch under CLU’s grasp; the dull, pulsing pain bringing quick and utter panic.
"Okay, stop!" Sam reached for the older man’s wrist and tried to pry his hand away, but CLU was uncompromising. He shook, muscles suddenly too weak to hold him, and fell back onto his legs, screaming, “I’ll do it – stop!”
CLU let up gradually, enduring the scratching at his arm so he could continue to unnerve his plaything. Sam was blinded by black and white blotches that quickly gave way to a colorful blur. A few blinks and his vision cleared, and though the whole ordeal took seconds, he was overwhelmed by such terror he couldn’t stop himself from shaking.
He had no time to regain his senses before CLU pulled him closer, right to his groin, where Sam could feel the heat of arousal flooding his body. He lifted his arms onto CLU’s legs for support and the Program exhaled deeply, feeling the User shudder, knowing he was about to be dominated. Sam gave one last pleading look to CLU, who smiled in response, licking his lips in a show of perversion.
Sam’s head snapped down and his nose stung, and he wanted to weep but couldn’t. CLU’s face was a mask - he wasn’t Flynn. His father didn’t speak this way and he would never do these things, but it didn’t matter how many times Sam repeated it to himself, it never felt less real.
He attempted to steady his breathing, gaze fixated on the clothed bulge in front of him. The fabric was thin and flexible and hugged every curve of CLU’s cock, giving Sam an unbiased preview. His hands kneaded CLU’s thighs to relieve stress and dry his palms, but the touch excited the older man, who lifted his hips eagerly.
"Don't play dumb, kiddo; you know how to do it," he said, guiding the boy’s head down. "Certainly such a pretty face has had its share of cocks."
Sam grunted and tried to pull away, but was no match for CLU in his damaged state. If he kept his eyes down he could get through it. He would sing in his head and he wouldn’t look above the Program’s waist, and when he finally escaped back to the real world he would be haunted by fewer nightmares.
He opened his mouth and timidly stuck out his tongue, and at that point CLU saw fit to leave him be. He re-angled his head to position himself near the Program’s balls, tongue gliding timidly over the fragile area. A strange taste of rubber and an unidentifiable element stuck in his mouth as he licked over the suit.
CLU twitched, trying to quell his craving and restrain from face-fucking the User. He stretched his neck before giving in slightly and bidding him higher.
Sam straightened, lifting onto his knees to allow better access to the stiff cock pressed against CLU’s stomach. In a hushed voice he said, “How…?” meaning to ask how much was expected of him – how long until it ended – but realized instantly the question was moronic.
“How?” CLU mimicked, in a tone mocking yet sweet. “Daddy will help you figure it out.”
Both hands came up to grab Sam’s head, pulling him down as the Program bucked up to meet his mouth. Sam hovered over CLU’s groin awkwardly, head pounding from the fingers stabbing into his skull. CLU humped his face in long, smooth strides, brushing his erection against the boy’s lips. The motion sickened Sam and he pushed against the other’s legs feebly in an attempt to still him.
The Program wriggled a finger past Sam’s lips to pry his jaw. “Come on,” he urged. “Open your mouth.”
Sam gave a stifled groan as CLU’s crotch rubbed against his exposed tongue; continuing to make sharp, angry noises until the older man slowed and released him.
“Ready to try by yourself?”
There came no reply; Sam only sitting and stewing like a child told to eat his vegetables. He made a move, slowly, apprehensively, running his tongue from the base of CLU’s cock up to the tip. CLU relaxed back on his arms, wanting to angle himself appropriately to see Sam’s face as he worked, but the ministrations were sloppy and listless, drawing the Program’s disdain. As Sam came back over the tip, CLU applied pressure, encouraging him to envelope the head of his cock. Sam took a few deep breaths in preparation before shutting his eyes and suckling the head, continuing with short, rough licks.
The Program’s head rolled back - rolling forward again to reveal a vicious smile. The warmth of the boy’s mouth and strained look on his innocent face were tantalizing. CLU’s suit was painfully tight, but the restriction only heightened his desire. Fingers ran through Sam’s hair anxiously as he began humping again.
Sam faltered, bewildered that despite being unwilling and unskilled he managed to arouse another man. After another trail up CLU’s cock he paused, daring to look the Program in the eye, silently begging to know when it would be over.
“You want to take it all?” CLU asked with a grin, stretching the boy’s mouth open with his hands.
Sam jerked away and muttered, “Just…hurry up.” He felt his chest burn with regret, wondering if he should have put up more of a fight and repulsed he was basically asking for a dick in his mouth. The Program’s threats ruled him and he didn’t care to be hit in the face or lose an extremity. He would play CLU’s game; it would only take a minute.
The cloth around the Program’s groin fragmented and retracted up to his stomach and down to his thighs, revealing the pale skin underneath. Sam regarded him warily, eyes flicking up to his face and down to his cock.
“Making comparisons?” CLU questioned smugly, as the boy averted his eyes. “Well? Are you as big as daddy?”
Sam’s cheeks burned and he slumped back, whatever bit of courage he had now completely ripped away. CLU took his erection in his hand, rubbing up and down the shaft slowly, sensuously, giving Sam a clear idea of the girth and length.
Sam’s heart raced and his throat closed. He sat motionless, neither debating his next move nor imagining the repercussions of remaining inactive, only waiting for whatever would happen to happen. He realized too late that Rinzler had come up from behind; only able to turn his head before the other man seized him and knocked him to the floor.
“No! I’ll do what you want!” Sam yelled, clawing at the ground as he was dragged backwards. Hands flew over his body, tugging and groping. He was pulled against the Program’s chest, leaving the front of his nude body exposed to CLU and vulnerable to Rinzler’s touch.
Sam shivered as Rinzler ran his teeth down his neck, one hand coming up to tease a nipple and the other playing with his flaccid cock. He cried again, “I’ll do what you want!” looking to CLU to aid him.
The older man drawled, “Then come here,” hand still massaging his erection.
Sam struggled against Rinzler, flailing more desperately once he felt the man’s cock brush his backside. He was released suddenly and fell forward onto his forearms. Fingers dug into his waist, pulling his ass into the air, and Rinzler hovered over his back as he positioned himself. Sam twisted and threw out an elbow to strike his assailant in the face. The hit was hard and sharp but Rinzler recovered instantly and counterattacked with a punch to the back of Sam’s head. He slammed into the ground, unable to brace himself, face pressed against the smooth floor as he lay stunned.
Rinzler humped him from behind, letting his cock slide between his buttocks and his back. The feeling was unnerving and filthy and Sam freaked out, kicking his leg back, hitting the Program in the thigh. There was only enough force to make him stumble and Rinzler was on top of him again in seconds.
“I’ll do it!” Sam screeched, fighting and yelling with the same intensity as one near death. “I’ll suck you off, goddammit!”
He scrambled to lift himself on his hands, pulling away to rest an arm on CLU’s leg. He reached for the Program’s cock, but was too alarmed by Rinzler who held his waist, moving forward so his groin brushed his skin.
Sam breathed, “Fuck, I can’t…” paralyzed by the fact Rinzler was behind him, rocking his hips, cockhead pressed against the tight skin of his anus.
“Don’t - don’t…”
“What? I can’t help if I don’t know what you want.”
“Don’t fuh-” Sam stammered, words like lead in his mouth. “Don’t f-fuck me. Make him stop!”
“Think of it as motivation,” CLU answered as he reached for his cock, lifting it from his abdomen and pointing it towards Sam. Sam hesitated, then opened his mouth, trying hard not to bite when the opposite end of his body was being assaulted. He took as much of it as he could, making an effort to deep throat – whatever would please CLU, whatever would get that fucker off.
He bobbed back and forth clumsily, realizing he didn’t know the best method. CLU’s cock hit the inside of his cheek and scraped against his molars and the older man finally pushed his head away.
“You’re too eager, Sam. Lick the tip – use your tongue,” he commanded, palm against Sam’s forehead to prevent him from falling into his crotch while Rinzler thrust against him.
Sam blushed and his adrenaline pumped. He wanted to give a quick blowjob and be done with it, not make love to another man’s arousal. CLU held his cock and Sam nervously opened his mouth to take it. He let Sam’s head come forward enough that he was just out of reach of his erection, drawing amusement from watching him flick his tongue out in awkward motions that made him look pitiful and needy.
“So cock-hungry,” CLU crooned, rewarded with an aggravated whine from the User.
Rinzler slipped past the tight rim of his anus and pulled out, each movement rough and burning. Sam gasped and tensed; groans morphing from pain to desperation. He was overcome with anxiety, unable to do anything until CLU allowed it. His jaw hung slack as he panted, waiting for CLU’s cock in his mouth.
“You want it?”
Sam shook his head in frustration. “Just fucking…”
“Hmm?” CLU pulled him closer, running the length of his cock over the boy’s cheek, leaving a trail of Sam’s own saliva in its wake. Sam quivered, mouth closing briefly before he willed it open again, in time for the Program to repeat the action on his bottom lip. The tip of his cock was soft and wet and dotted his skin with a thin fluid – precum, Sam determined, not saliva.
Sam’s mouth shut like a trap. He was suddenly apprehensive, mind flooding with memories of Rinzler’s cock down his throat; the feeling of helplessness as he choked and the bitter taste that coated his tongue. His breaths came more rapidly and he wasn’t sure he could go through with what was promised.
The decision was made for him as Rinzler thrust in completely. Sam stumbled forward, mouth flying open in a silent scream, and CLU took the opportunity to push him back down on his cock. He could feel Sam’s throat vibrate when he tried to yell, and it made his body ache and he needed more. He saw aspects of Flynn in Sam, at certain angles, in certain movements, and to completely control and humiliate him was euphoric.
He’d gotten few chances to play with Flynn and was never able to probe him thoroughly to learn what would destroy him utterly. Flynn knew CLU almost as well as he knew himself; knew the Grid, knew the limitations, and for CLU to conquer him in one sitting proved impossible. He never had a weapon until he had Sam.
Flynn would talk about Sam, and his demeanor would change and his features would soften. His son played “baseball” and got an “A” in Science, and did a bunch of other things that were worthless and didn’t deserve the amount of praise Flynn placed on them. His drafting of simple structures like houses especially left something to be desired.
He required too much of the Creator’s attention; apparently incapable of keeping his own system running without the constant vigilance of his father. CLU was intelligent and strong; able to assume the duties of Flynn himself in his absence. He was Flynn’s greatest creation, yet Sam was loved and adored while he was overrun with responsibility – set up for failure – and left neglected.
CLU wound his fingers in Sam’s hair, debating ramming his cock into the boy’s throat until he vomited and choked to death. Even after the Creator was dead he’d fuck with Sam as reparation for his father’s sins. He would never let him go; was going to do all the things he never got to do to Flynn, to his son. His cock twitched thinking of raping the boy in front of his father, or making Flynn do it himself. Or both. There would be time enough for everything.
He exhaled deeply - almost purring, the prospects were so exciting. His hips rocked forward to meet Sam’s mouth, and the User staggered, attempting to find a suitable rhythm between Rinzler thrusting into his ass and CLU humping his face.
“Do you like being used?” CLU asked, pulling out and running the head of his cock teasingly over his lips. “You want daddy’s cum?”
Sam’s face was strained and his eyes were clenched shut; chin covered in spit and skin wet with tears and snot. He felt disgusting – was disgusting – and could do nothing but wait for it all to end.
Sam repeated, “I want it,” as he fought back tears. He simply had to agree; had to do what was asked of him and everything would be much easier.
CLU grinned. “You got a load earlier; sucked Alan dry. You still need more?”
“I want it – please,” he begged, needing CLU to finish and needing him to shut the hell up. If he heard his father’s voice one more time Sam thought he would lose it. He shouted, “Please, please!” demandingly, groaning in agony as his body was torn apart.
CLU chuckled and made some joke about him being a cum slut that Sam didn’t fully hear. He slipped back in his mouth gently, pulling him down on his cock until he was in to the hilt. The slowness of his movements made Sam anxious and when CLU held him there it didn’t take long for dread to set in.
Sam’s body spasmed, threatening to release what little was in his stomach. An arm flew up, landing near CLU’s groin as he tried to escape - not caring what he hit or where. He struggled against the older man, succeeding in pushing away far enough so he could inhale.
Rinzler pulled Sam backwards onto his cock, ripping a high-pitched yell from the User which was muffled and cut short by CLU jamming into his throat again. CLU growled as he gave a few more thrusts, finally pushing Sam’s head away so he could jerk his erection.
“I’m going to cum on you, son.”
CLU moaned, just to emphasize he was having the best fucking experience of his life. A hot stream of cum splashed across the younger man’s face, making him lurch and quickly shut his eyes. More hit his mouth and he sputtered to remove it, but the movement only encouraged it to drip down his skin and cover his lips.
Rinzler slipped out of his ass without finishing and Sam cried out at the searing pain. He opened his eyes once CLU’s jerks slowed, catching the older man run his hand over his erection one last time, cleaning off the last bit of cum with his palm.
CLU brushed his cock over Sam’s face, coating himself in his own ejaculate. Sam whined pathetically as he slipped back between his lips, having thought he’d avoided the same treatment given him by Rinzler. The Program rocked his hips, making sure his cock was cleaned by Sam’s tongue before pulling the boy’s mouth open to admire his work.
“There you go,” he sang, delighted by how pathetic Flynn’s son appeared with enflamed, abused lips and face covered in semen. He patted Sam’s cheek in praise as the boy stared vacantly at the Program’s shins, acknowledging nothing around him.
Sam was afraid to spit so he swallowed, finding it easier than the first time, and instead of being relieved it only made him feel like a whore. After a minute he brought a hand up to his head warily; afraid he’d get beaten for doing so and not excited to touch the mess. CLU said nothing, content to watch him wipe at his face and pull at his hair. Sam rubbed against the remnants of his suit, succeeding in cleaning most of his face, but unable to remove the smell. The rest of the cum dried in a thin layer like glue and he could feel it when he stretched his jaw or wrinkled his brow.
CLU stood and Sam was somewhat calmed by the fact he was finally satisfied; finally going to leave.
“On the ground.”
The command didn’t register at first and Sam was thrown off guard when Rinzler placed him in a choke hold and forced him to the floor.
“NO - fuck - get off! Get the fuck off!”
He kicked haphazardly, thrashing on the ground, creating such ruckus Rinzler had difficulty keeping him pinned. CLU approached and was quickly deflected by a kick to the abdomen. He doubled over and backed up, and would have punched Sam in the face if he wasn’t enjoying the spectacle so much.
“Son of a bitch! You sick asshole!” Sam yelled, spit flying from his mouth. His body shook uncontrollably, as if dying of cold. He flew into such an intense rage he frightened himself, worried he’d lost his mind; that he’d been broken completely.
CLU had never witnessed any Program have such a sporadic fit and it took him aback. He expected Flynn’s son to disagree with his propositions, but the violent reaction he received was more of a prize than he ever could have imagined. As an afterthought, he wondered if Sam’s vulgar tongue was one of the few shining gifts from his father.
“Let me go!” Sam rasped, breaths coming quicker until he was hyperventilating. “Let me go, let me go!” His head rolled back, hitting the floor with a hard slap that even CLU found sickening. The struggle slowed as Sam sunk into despair, tears flowing from his eyes. CLU approached again after his body went limp, kneeling in between his legs which now parted easily.
Sam looked up at him, face red and wet. “Please don’t,” he whimpered. “Please don’t. God, please don’t.”
CLU lay down on top of him and Sam could feel his strong physique press against his skin. He was heavy and surprisingly warm and Sam was transported back years ago. Contact was the thing Sam missed most after his father was gone. He could remember things Flynn said and still visit places they’d been, but he couldn’t recreate the feeling of being a child scooped up in his father’s arms, loved and protected.
He relaxed, allowing himself to get drawn into the fantasy of being young again, though he knew it was dangerous territory and his brain screamed for him not to give in that easily. He was shaken by something cold and slick wriggling past his buttocks and rubbing in slow circles against his anus.
“It’s alright, kiddo,” CLU crooned as he pressed one finger in, quickly following with another as he couldn’t be bothered to wait. The preparation wasn’t for Sam’s sake, anyway. If CLU could rip him apart, he would, but he also wanted to keep the soft skin of his penis intact. He wasn’t an animal like Rinzler.
Sam braced, expecting the same searing pain that accompanied Rinzler’s assault, but the affect was dulled. It was uncomfortable and unwelcome, but not half as horrifying as before.
“You’re already stretched a bit, hmm? See, this isn’t so bad.”
Sam threw his head back but was greeted by Alan’s visage staring down at him. He sniffled, turning his face to the side and scrunching his eyes shut.
“Don’t hide. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” CLU said, pulling Sam’s waist up so he was straddling him. CLU stroked his cock as he pressed against Sam’s opening teasingly. Without warning he thrust, making it halfway in before pulling out slightly and ramming in again to the hilt.
Sam’s legs jerked and he bit his tongue, letting out a strangled groan that was more desperation and sadness than indicative of the pain. The boy’s sniveling state was amusing for a time, but he had grown too accepting and CLU wasn’t satisfied by the passive behavior.
The Program clasped a hand around Sam’s neck, thumb and forefinger digging into his skin, shocking Sam’s eyes open and directing his face forward. He growled, “Look at me while I fuck you.”
Sam opened his mouth to inhale and exhale deep, calming breaths. He tried to focus on single parts of CLU’s face – his nose, his lips – but they were all too familiar. His heart hurt as he watched his father bob over him repeatedly, feeling his cock plunge in and out in long, rough thrusts.
CLU said, “Good boy,” as he rubbed Sam’s thigh in what Sam figured was some kind of useless reward. He sat up straighter, still moving his hips, never breaking his rhythm. His hand crawled from the outside of Sam’s leg to the inside, touching dangerously close to his groin.
CLU cupped his hand under Sam’s balls and squeezed roughly, eliciting an aggravated moan. His thrusts slowed as his attention focused on Sam’s flaccid penis. He gave no indication of what he was thinking, only tilted his head as if examining a specimen. The attention and silence made Sam feel agonizingly self-conscious in spite of all the other shit he’d already endured.
The Program danced a gloved finger up along the shaft of the cock, which Sam found only slightly ticklish. He exchanged his fingertips with his palm, pressing Sam’s cock into his stomach as he massaged. His erection grew slowly and the harder Sam got, the more detailed CLU became. He lifted his gaze to watch the boy’s reaction and was surprised to find he wasn’t trying to hide his eyes, but observed timidly as CLU worked.
CLU took Sam’s shaft in his hand, standing it erect to have better access to the head. His thumb rubbed in slow circles around the slit, and he interspersed this motion with a few long strokes down to the hilt and back up to the head. A clear drop of precum oozed forth and CLU made it a priority to play with it. He pressed the tip of his middle finger into the goo and pulled away, making sure Sam had a clear view when he revealed a thin sticky stream extending from the slit to his finger.
“S-stop,” Sam stuttered, frightened by the prospect CLU could make him feel anything but pain.
It was wrong – something was wrong with him. Only a severely fucked up individual would get a hard-on while being restrained by his surrogate father and raped by his dad. Sam wondered what dark part of him wanted this and wracked his brain trying to remember if he’d ever had these feelings before. It scared him greatly to think he might uncover suppressed memories of being molested or discover he had severe abandonment issues.
“Ah – stop!” he yelled, but his voice was thick with lust and hardly convincing. “Stop! I don’t want it!” Sam bit his lip, immediately realizing the stupidity of the statement. Obviously CLU – who held his stiff erection – knew that to be a lie.
He was surprised, therefore, when the older man conceded. Sam gave a small sigh of relief, though he was distressed to find he wasn’t satisfied. It had felt good; at the very least, washing out some of the pain with pleasure. Now his ass hurt and his cock ached and he was more confused and miserable than before.
CLU pulled out as well, making Sam flinch when the rim of his cockhead slipped past the tight skin of his anus. Rinzler released his arms and placed himself obediently in a corner while CLU once again made for the bed. Sam didn’t move at first, unconvinced the torment could end so anti-climactically. He sat up slowly, feeling every throbbing pain individually as he shifted.
“Come sit on my lap,” CLU called, smile dancing on his lips as he stroked his erection.
Sam approached hesitantly, looking perturbed when CLU patted his legs in welcome. The older man helped him down, positioning his erection against Sam’s hole. He let Sam slide onto the cock himself and reposition his legs until he was comfortable. CLU wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling the boy’s back against his chest tightly.
“We used to do this all the time, didn’t we?” CLU whispered, other hand massaging around Sam’s clavicle. His voice was songlike and condescending and though Flynn had never spoken to Sam in that manner, the line between the two was becoming increasingly blurred. Some part of this was real; some part of CLU was Flynn. Sam was shocked by how much an image affected him - wondered how weak his mind really was - had no idea how much he loved and missed his father until the Program damaged him so.
CLU grabbed Sam’s jaw harshly and angled it upwards, forcing him to regard Rinzler. The drone watched intently, not at all displaying the blank look Sam was accustomed to. The boy’s legs were spread open, giving Rinzler an unobstructed view of CLU’s cock sliding in and out of Sam’s stretched anus and the unattended erection that bounced between his legs. A pit developed in Sam’s stomach, feeling vulnerable and dirty for being put on display. His mind was soon occupied, however, when CLU’s hand traveled down to his groin and began jerking him off.
His stomach fluttered and the feeling was indistinguishable from disgust or arousal. Sam’s body was hot but he couldn’t admit that he wanted it, for everything this reaction said about him was untrue. He whimpered and moaned, in shame and pleasure. It was an escape; a terrible one, but he took it. CLU was raping him, CLU was making his body do these things, and as long as he didn’t participate he wouldn’t be at fault.
The Program gave one more deep thrust and one hard stroke before stopping completely. He commanded Sam to turn around and he obeyed, secretly thankful he would no longer suffer Rinzler’s disturbing stare. He placed his hands on CLU’s shoulders, bracing himself for the next round, but nothing happened.
It didn’t register at first and Sam waited, even chancing to look at CLU for an explanation. CLU remained silent, but the soft wrinkles around his eyes let Sam know he was smiling.
Sam slammed his fists against the Program’s chest before burying his head, screaming and growling like a child having a tantrum. It was a ridiculously ironic thing to cry over, but frustration overwhelmed him. He had been swallowed by the physical pleasure; had fallen for CLU’s demented form of kindness when it was obvious the Program’s only desire was to fuck with him – to make him suffer as much as possible.
“Move,” CLU said simply, rewarded with a hateful glare from his captive. “Start riding.”
Sam froze, unsure he was willing to go that far, but his cock still ached and he felt desperate in every way. He wavered before lifting his weight onto his knees and coming back down, trying several unsuccessful angles. The process was awkward and slow and annoyingly difficult, and Sam wondered how he could be too incompetent to execute a basic sexual position.
CLU’s face twisted into a dementedly amused grin, enjoying every second Sam willingly degraded himself. The younger man reached for his erection, attempting to masturbate with only one hand on CLU for support, but he stumbled and almost fell. CLU snorted at the complete humiliation. Sam ceased all efforts and CLU allowed him time to fume before speaking.
“What do you want?”
Sam clenched his jaw, somehow more upset he was being forced to verbalize his desire than disturbed by how much he craved it. He spoke timidly, voice barely above a whisper. “…Fuck me.”
“What was that, son?” CLU asked again, finding it difficult to keep his voice serious when he was giddy with anticipation. “Tell me.”
Sam’s palms sweat and he wished he could mute the sound of his own voice in his ears. He swallowed, closed his eyes, and steadied his breathing in preparation. “I want you to fuck me, dad.”
CLU grinned in response and dug his fingers into Sam’s waist, hips thrusting up to assault him harshly. Sam moaned and began jerking himself, trying to keep up with CLU’s rhythm. He raised himself on his legs and came down to meet CLU’s thrusts, forcing the Program’s cock in to the hilt.
“You really are a whore, aren’t you, kiddo?”
Sam did not respond, starting to believe it was true. He continued stroking himself roughly, trying to block out everything around him and praying he’d cum fast.
The pleasure and pain mixed together into a toxic cocktail and Sam felt himself grow pathetically needy. In the moment he didn’t care; didn’t care how loudly he moaned or how forcefully he brought his weight down on CLU’s cock. He didn’t care he was being fucked by a man, though the fact CLU looked like his father never left him. Sam was overtaken by ecstasy and CLU savored every second of his slutty abandon.
“You like it hard, don’t you?” CLU growled, feeling the slap of Sam’s balls against his stomach.
Sam whimpered but was too far gone to protest. “Y-yes.”
“Don’t you?” he repeated, slowing his pace as an indication that wasn’t the response he wanted.
“Ye-” A whine escaped Sam and he moved his hips, trying to encourage CLU to continue. “Faster. Please, dad.”
CLU maintained his lazy thrusts, giving no indication he heard him at all.
“Faster,” Sam tried again. “Dad, please fuck me. Dad-”
CLU still didn’t respond, his seeming disinterest torturous. Sam dug his fingers into the Program’s shoulders and pulled himself closer so his naked chest, sticky with sweat, pressed against CLU’s clothed form. He buried his head in the crook of CLU’s neck, lips next to his ear.
“Fuck me,” he whispered pitifully. “I need it. I…” He paused to regain his nerve, thinking the only way out was to spew the most sordid things that came to mind. He felt drunk – overwhelmingly so; knew he was making bad decisions but couldn’t stop himself. Sam wanted release however he could get it and would do what it took to get CLU to give it to him.
“When I jack off, I -” He hesitated, having given too much thought to exactly what he was saying and upsetting himself. Sam tried to clear his mind and begin again. “I think about the time I saw you get dressed. You were getting dressed for work and I…I was in the door and I saw you naked.”
CLU’s mouth dropped open slightly as he tried to refrain from showing too much glee. He listened intently, eating up every word.
“After that, I thought about you at night - that one day, you’d get me alone, put your hands down my pants…” Sam paused, not entirely certain he was convincing when he had no experience to draw on. “…Jerk me off…show me what it was like to be with a man.”
There was no indication the story pleased CLU, and the User sat anxiously, wondering if he’d have to go on; wondering if he was capable of sinking any lower. He felt nauseous, unable to differentiate between the disgust he felt for what he was saying and the throbbing pressure building in his groin. He rocked his hips, craving friction.
“When Alan took me in, he’d tell me stories about you – what great friends you were – a coy way of saying you’d fucked. He’d make it a point to say I looked like you, and I knew he wanted me as well.”
CLU licked down his neck and trailed kisses over his shoulder. Attention was his reward, and Sam shivered, rocking a bit faster.
“I started wondering what it’d be like…to have you both take me.”
“Daddy and Alan already fucked you, Sam. Wasn’t that enough?”
Sam bit his lip as shame welled up inside him. He was in so deep little he said or did from that point on felt significant. When he wanted something he had a one-track mind, and was used to being foolishly deviant to get his way.
“I want to cum with your cock in my ass. Give it to me, dad,” he finally begged, kneading his palms against CLU’s chest. “I’ve waited so long to have you fuck me.”
CLU bit his neck unexpectedly; so ruthlessly he drew blood. Sam cringed, unable to move away for fear the Program would take a chunk of flesh with him.
“Whatever you want, Sam, daddy will give you,” CLU breathed into his ear, sending a sick chill down the boy’s spine.
Sam had stopped stroking himself when he relayed his story and now CLU knocked his hand away, wrapping his fingers around the shaft of his penis. He started jerking vigorously, meeting this rhythm with the same fervent thrusts. The older man was hot and brimming with lust and his enthusiasm washed over Sam.
Sam draped his arms around CLU’s neck, face pressed against his cheek. He shut his eyes and tried to imagine he was somewhere else, living out some other fantasy, which proved difficult with a cock up his ass and the smell of his father’s cologne in his nose.
He was never one for rules or authority, and some part of him was excited by the sexual taboo - by how dirty and immoral it was. He got a high from doing what he shouldn’t; in the back of his mind wondering how he’d ever top this and at the same time worried he’d never be able to block it from memory.
CLU’s thrusts were rough and abusive but painfully sweet, increasing Sam’s desire tenfold. Sam moaned into the Program’s ear, feeling close to release. He urged, “Faster,” not fully expecting the request to be granted as CLU already seemed at his limit. It didn’t matter; he wanted it, and said it so CLU knew not to stop.
“Faster, dad. Please, harder – fuck!”
CLU grabbed Sam’s hair and pulled his head from his shoulder to watch as he came. He wanted to savor the moment; get a good enough view implanted in his Disc to share with Flynn next he saw him.
Sam’s body trembled, cock spurting a long, hot stream of cum onto CLU’s chest. CLU jerked him several more times, milking a few more loads which dripped down the length of Sam’s cock and over the Program’s fist. He continued to thrust into CLU’s waiting hand feebly, whining in shame as his orgasm faded and reality slowly hit.
CLU let his head go and Sam immediately dropped forward, tucking in his chin and breathing heavily. He sat unmoving for a while, letting his mind clear and fatigue overtake him. No longer aroused, he became excruciatingly aware of his surroundings and his body and how mortifying the situation had become.
Everything was more sensitive - his skin, his mind - and as soon as he reflected on what happened, he feared the dark thoughts might drown him. He became grossly conscious of the intrusiveness of CLU’s cock. Though his thrusts had slowed, they burned, and Sam tried to lift himself up and wriggle away.
“Let go – it hurts,” he rasped.
“I’m not done,” CLU stated bluntly, unsure whether Sam was greedy or just ignorant to how this rape thing worked.
Sam grit his teeth, frustration rising. He wanted to sit, wanted to dwell - wanted time to understand what happened and decide how repulsed he should be. He wanted out - right now – wanted CLU gone so he could be alone in the cell, weeping in a corner while he strangled himself.
CLU removed his hand which was still massaging Sam’s spent erection and brought it up to the boy’s mouth. A couple fingers maneuvered inside, leaving a trail of cum on Sam’s lips.
“Suck,” he commanded, and Sam complied, hoping it would be enough to satiate him. Being fed his own semen was slightly more tolerable than having his mouth fucked by the two men, though no less revolting. CLU ran his fingers over Sam’s tongue, in and out of his mouth in a motion uncomfortably similar to a blowjob.
“I don’t think I’m close,” CLU drawled, licking his lips. “Why don’t you tell me more about your daddy issues.”
Sam jerked his head away and snarled, “Go to Hell.”
The older man re-angled himself, letting Sam feel every inch of his cock as it scraped against his rectum. “That’s not really helping.” He lay back on the bed, pulling Sam down with him, hands running over his captive’s skin, fingers carving lines from the top of Sam’s shoulders to the small of his back. They trailed down to Sam’s buttocks and squeezed, pulling them apart.
"Alan," CLU beckoned, the name causing Sam’s stomach to churn. Rinzler came up from behind and it was suddenly very clear why CLU was spreading him invitingly.
Sam went cold, arms shaking so fiercely he had trouble holding himself up. He fell into panic mode, unable to control the volume of his own voice, almost shrieking when he yelled.
“You can’t! It’s not going to fit!”
“Oh, Sam…” CLU laughed. “It will fit, it’s just going to hurt.”
“No, no!” Sam jumped, escaping no more than a few inches before CLU caught his arm. He threw a punch with his free hand, fist connecting awkwardly with the other’s jaw. The older man slipped his grip to Sam’s wrist and jerked it out to the side, sending him crashing down on top of him. He caught the User by the neck as he attempted to sit up, restraining him with a thumb pressed into his windpipe.
“Horrible tactic,” CLU growled, feeling the sting of Sam’s blow despite its messy execution. Rinzler twisted Sam’s free arm behind his back in a hold with which Sam was already too familiar.
CLU tightened his grip around the boy’s neck gradually, but when it finally got unbearable, the panic was quick and intense. The pressure on his windpipe caused Sam to cough and when he tried to regain his breath, was unable to inhale. He was being strangled slowly and had plenty of time to be taken by terror; had plenty of time to suffer.
Sam tried to pull CLU off him, but had no chance one-handed. Rinzler pulled up on the other arm, keeping his back arched and preventing him from moving. Just as the pounding in his head became agonizing, CLU released him. Sam gasped for breath, coughing brutally.
“You’re deranged,” he choked, pausing to breathe. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“An ironic question to be asking, son.”
“I’m not your son, you piece of shit.”
CLU laughed heartily and Sam was deathly embarrassed; praying they could bypass the obvious conversation. CLU didn’t pursue it, only gave a few more chuckles which made Sam feel just as disgraced.
“Are you going to be good now?” he crooned.
Sam wanted to say no, but in his current position knew he had little ability to make good on his word. Rinzler pushed Sam forward, again placing him in a vulnerable position just above CLU’s groin. CLU snaked a hand between his legs, positioning his cock to enter Sam again. Sam’s mind had been preoccupied, but with CLU pressing against his ass, was quickly reminded of the horrible sensation that was imminent. CLU could care less for fanfare and plunged in, drawing a sharp yelp from the User.
“You’re still tight,” he said. “What a shame you won’t stay that way.”
Sam squeezed his eyes shut, breathing labored. He was still sore and swore he could feel every vein in CLU’s cock as it rubbed against the abused walls of his rectum. CLU slid in further and Sam twisted his body, trying to find a less invasive angle. He cursed, discovering any and all comfort elusive.
CLU gave a few slow thrusts before pausing. Sam could feel the heat of Rinzler’s body creep up behind him; felt his arousal brush against his skin. He paled, voice weak.
“Oh God, you can’t do this to me.”
“You told me it was what you wanted,” CLU whispered, caressing his face. “Both your daddies fucking you at the same time.”
Sam stuttered, “N-no,” debating arguing that he was being misquoted; that what he originally alluded to would be far less painful.
“My son is such a slut, Alan,” CLU teased, regarding Rinzler as he ran fingers over Sam’s lips. “One dick wasn’t good enough, was it?”
The head of Rinzler’s cock rubbed against Sam’s anus, precum wetting the tight skin. He rocked back and forth against the opening, even the slight force causing Sam to tense.
“I don’t think I can take it,” he gasped.
“What’s the matter, sport? You were having fun earlier.”
“No,” Sam choked, both to protest Rinzler’s assault and deny he ever enjoyed being raped by CLU. “You’re going to rip me apart!”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” CLU huffed. “You must get that from your mother.”
Sam resisted again, knowing it would only delay his fate. He thrashed mindlessly and was quickly put down by Rinzler, who grabbed the back of his neck to keep him still. Rinzler pressed his head down dangerously close to CLU’s, leaving Sam staring straight into the Program’s cold blue eyes and soft wrinkles in his forehead. CLU pulled up to meet him, running his tongue over Sam’s closed lips. He attacked his mouth in a motion vicious and hungry and suffocating, only breaking the kiss to savor the boy’s reaction when Rinzler first pressed inside.
Sam looked to CLU, steadying his voice best he could in a last attempt to reason. “I’ll do anything – whatever you fucking want, just please – Ah!”
Rinzler moved both hands to Sam’s waist, tugging him backwards hard enough that the head of his cock slipped in. The pain was sudden and horrifying and Sam’s body jerked spastically.
“What do you want?!” Sam yelled, voice cracking. “What do you want from me?!”
“Shh…” CLU pressed fingers into his mouth, letting him bite as an outlet for the pain. Rinzler rocked his hips, pressing in a little further each time. Stabbing sensations ripped through Sam’s rectum and danced over the rest of his body.
He twisted his hands into the bed sheets, burying his head in the crook of CLU’s neck as he whimpered, “I haven’t done anything to you,” to which CLU replied simply, “It’s not about you, Sam.”
“I’m going to throw up.”
CLU responded, “I wouldn’t recommend it,” as Rinzler began shoving in more viciously. Sam’s vision clouded with white spots and he felt light-headed. The Program was relentless; pounding in again and again, uncaring of how much progress was being made. CLU grabbed Sam’s biceps, squeezing every time Rinzler’s cock moved against his own deliciously. As the speed increased, he kneaded Sam’s skin, grinding against him.
Sam’s palms grew cold and sweaty and his stomach turned in such a way he wanted nothing more than to vomit violently. He would have welcomed the emptying of his stomach – any kind of relief - but feared the repercussion too greatly. Bile was forced back down his throat, leaving him more ill than before.
Rinzler gave a long thrust, pushing in to the hilt. The pain was so hot and severe Sam thought he would lose it. His arms gave out and he ripped the sheets down, banging his head into CLU’s chest.
“I can’t-!” Sam screamed. “I can’t take it!”
The struggling only served to excite the older man. CLU’s breathing quickened and he lifted his hips to push in deeper. Sam was ungodly tight and the friction between Rinzler’s cock and his own was exhilarating. He knew he could never revert; would have to keep Sam around to play with if he ever wanted to get off again.
CLU and Rinzler built a rhythm, alternating their thrusts. Rinzler attacked full-on, ramming in savagely. CLU was less rough, but made it a point to force in as far as possible. He watched Sam’s face as he reacted to every movement; expression changing slightly depending on who was currently inside.
The pain was like a million stinging papercuts, and it didn’t take long before blood trailed down Sam’s inner thigh. His throat closed, overcome with terror the damage would be irreversible. It felt like he was being torn apart – completely destroyed - and he couldn’t help but weep from pain and the fear of how his body would be left when it was all over.
“Why are you crying?” CLU whispered sweetly. “You liked having your ass fucked. You came so hard.”
All Sam could get out between sobs was, “It hurts,” in a voice so light it was like a strained breath of air. The sheets were thin and disappeared in his fist, and weren’t enough. He moved his grip to CLU’s arms, mirroring the hold the Program had on him.
“You’re still soft, son,” CLU commented. “Is two not enough? Maybe you need a cock in your mouth as well.”
Sam shook, at this point believing and genuinely frightened of CLU’s threats. He was completely convinced he wouldn’t make it; didn’t know what would happen to him, just knew he couldn’t endure. At one point he expected to faint, and when he remained conscious it was like the last bit of hope had been ripped away.
Sam held his breath when he felt Rinzler slow, the Program’s attention drawn to the strange red liquid splattered over his cock. The blood from the cut Sam received during the Disc Wars had since coagulated but the new injury brought excitement. He clawed at Sam’s back, leaving thin scratches and blotches of enflamed skin.
“Tron, stop!” Sam yelled, then immediately to CLU, “Make him stop!”
He grunted and wheezed, swallowing the pain best he could. Rinzler slammed in to the hilt and gave short, forceful thrusts as he hovered over Sam. He dug his nails in more sharply, succeeding in ripping through flesh and leaving small bubbling drops of blood in his wake. Sam arched and yelled in agony. He jerked, instinct telling him to flee, but was held down by CLU, who still had a firm grip on his arms.
"Does it hurt?” CLU mocked, tone no longer playful. “Perhaps you deserve it."
CLU swiped a hand across Sam's back, wetting his palm with blood. He was fascinated by the feel, the color, the foreign smell of copper. He grabbed Sam’s face, leaving a smear of red across the boy’s jaw and chin when he yanked away.
"You haven't done anything with your life, have you, Sam?” CLU chided. “I know, because if you gave two shits about me or the work I've done, you'd have entered the Grid a long time ago."
“Shut up,” Sam breathed. “You know nothing about me.”
"All those years Alan cared for you and you were nothing but a leech.” CLU grinned, feeling Sam shake. “I left you everything - you were set for life - but you come here after all these years and all you can do is beg daddy to fuck you.”
Rinzler pressed his thumbs into two fresh wounds, ripping another scream from Sam. CLU couldn’t help but thrust in harder, savoring the tightening of Sam’s muscles and abused look on his face.
"No son of mine is an idiot, is he? You simply didn't care. I built an empire and you did nothing."
“It wasn’t like that, it -” Sam choked, the words burning hot in his ears. If he'd stayed in college, taken over Encom, actually researched and continued his father's work, it wouldn't have been like this. CLU was spouting fears he’d held his entire life, in Flynn’s voice, and it was crushing. Fresh tears flooded his eyes, his face flushed, and he began crying again, but not from pain.
“It reminded me of you.”
Sam’s voice was strained, broken, yet CLU ignored him. “You didn't care about continuing my legacy; you just wanted my cock in your ass. You pleaded for it and now you're crying. So selfish, Sam. What a useless whore.”
Rinzler’s hands massaged up and down Sam’s back, scraping against the cuts, spreading blood into sweat and creating a sticky mess. He leaned over, running his tongue over Sam’s shoulder blade and venturing to a long, deep slash right below the bone. His tongue was rough and hot and Sam jerked and tensed at the sting.
“Please, enough! Just -” Sam swallowed his words, still struggling to save whatever dignity he had left and realizing it wasn’t much. “Just…cum. Just cum already!”
“Quite demanding,” said CLU. “Is that really what you want?”
Sam seethed, “Yes…”
“You want us to cum in you, Sam?”
Sam felt another wave of anxiety. The idea sickened him, but his insides felt like they were being torn up, his back was ripped apart, his pride was destroyed, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He whispered, “Yes,” barely audibly – not good enough for CLU.
“Where? Tell daddy.”
Sam held his breath, grunts still escaping him with every thrust from the two men. He shut his eyes and said, “In me,” knowing it was what the Program wanted to hear. “Cum in me.”
CLU forced his index and middle fingers into Sam’s mouth as he commanded, “Then shut up and take it.” He pushed in and out brutally, making Sam gag and spit up saliva.
“You’re more fun to play with than Flynn,” he said, deeply, sensuously. “So deliciously naïve. Your ass is tighter too. You must be a virgin.”
Sam tried to manage a “Fuck you,” but only choked on the words and CLU’s fingers. He felt his heart drop and was greatly upset despite knowing all the Program spouted were lies.
They were lies.
Rinzler straightened, running his nails over Sam’s back one last time - over old wounds while leaving fresh ones - savoring the pitiful moans of the User beneath him. The novelty had worn off and his hands ventured lower, down to Sam’s buttocks. He rubbed his hand over his own cock as it thrust in and out, finding the red fluid had already dried. He turned his palm upwards and wriggled his middle finger inside.
Sam howled, biting down on CLU’s fingers, forcing their removal. CLU caught his jaw in anger, throwing his head to the side so aggressively Sam thought his neck would snap.
Rinzler hooked his finger, scraping and stretching the soft flesh around it before deciding this impeded other, more important movements, and yanked out. CLU was pleased when Sam gasped and squirmed, unwittingly pushing himself farther back on CLU and Rinzler’s cocks.
“I look forward to sharing this experience with your father,” CLU breathed, hot with lust. “Do you think he’ll be more disgusted you came while beseeching him to fuck you, or that you wept like a little girl afterwards?”
“Stop…”
“Maybe he’ll fulfill your fantasy. Maybe he wants it too.”
“Shut up!” Sam screamed, voice cracking. “Just shut up!”
“Playing back the events on my Disc will surely arouse him. You’re a wanton slut, Sam. Anyone would get off watching you get fucked.” He added, sardonically, “You can’t help it.”
CLU grinned, feeling Sam tremble. He dug his fingers into the boy’s flesh, tensing every time he thought he would cum and willing himself to relax. Rinzler wasn’t making it easy for him to control himself; the other Program’s pace was quick and intense, bordering on feral.
Rinzler huffed, making a sound between a grunt and a purr, the noise getting louder and coming more rapidly. He grabbed Sam’s hips and slammed his body backwards to meet his cock. Sam lost his breath, his eyes stinging. He felt his nose run and rubbed his face against CLU’s chest best he could while being heaved back and forth.
Sam tried to set himself back up but couldn’t resist Rinzler’s strength. He scraped against CLU’s abdomen, moaning in time with each thrust. He hated himself, knowing he was making the same ridiculous squeals heard in porn, but was unable to stop them from escaping his lips. His body was beaten, his mind was wrecked, and the only outlet left for his suffering involved screaming like a whore.
Rinzler pounded in to the hilt then fell on top of Sam, stabilizing himself with one hand on the bed and the other still wrapped around the boy’s waist. His thrusts became shorter and deeper until his body jerked and he came, grabbing at Sam’s neck to keep him still while he rode out his orgasm. Sam could feel Rinzler’s cock twitch and hips shake when he filled his ass with cum, which somehow felt more demeaning than being fucked raw.
Rinzler gave a few more thrusts before falling still and standing back up. He pulled out, jerking the last drops onto Sam’s anus and letting them run down and slick the shaft of CLU’s cock. Sam cried out at the sudden exit, yelling again when Rinzler unexpectedly shoved back in. He thrust cruelly, with complete abandon, and CLU threw his head back, overcome by the friction and the heat. He breathed heavily, clutching at any part of Sam he could reach, knowing he could no longer resist.
“I’m going to cum,” he whispered, the words meant for Sam alone. “Daddy’s going to cum in you.”
Sam swallowed a sob, feeling ill. He tried to quiet himself, suppress any weaknesses until the ordeal was over, but failed miserably. When he opened his mouth again, everything held inside burst out at once in a loud, pathetic cry.
CLU tensed, fingers digging into Sam’s skin painfully. He panted, saying Sam’s name over and over, and Sam thought he would go insane hearing his father call him. CLU grabbed the boy’s ass, pushing him onto his cock. One arm flew up to Sam’s back, pressing into his wounds and extracting another painful yelp. CLU held Flynn’s son against him, needing to feel the weight of his body and forcing him down as far as possible on his aching erection.
The Program groaned as he slammed in, thrusting quickly as he came. He jabbed into Sam’s back more brutally, savoring the sounds he made and the feeling of him struggling against his spurting cock. CLU pulled out and rammed back in, milking more cum with every thrust. Finally spent, he slowed, digging a finger into Sam’s wounds one more time, causing him to jump.
Rinzler slipped out then backed away towards the door as his suit reconstructed. CLU continued to hump Sam slowly, running his tongue up the boy’s neck before pulling out as well. He left his cock to rest against Sam’s ass as the User remained unmoving. Sam’s face twisted in pain as the Programs removing themselves was almost as horrible as when they first pressed inside. His flesh burned and he felt used and degraded in every possible way.
CLU pet his back gently, well-aware it could never be gently enough to save Sam from pain. His hands landed on Sam’s buttocks and he spread him apart, letting the younger man feel a warm stream of cum as it trickled down to his balls.
“Your first time and you’ve taken two loads. Impressive.” CLU smirked and licked his lips. “That hardly fills you up though, does it?”
Sam didn’t react, too absorbed with how dirty and gross he was, knowing nothing could ever clean him. He would be this way forever; abused and tainted. He already couldn’t remember how it was to feel any differently.
“Next time I’ll make sure you get all the cocks you want; in your mouth, your ass, your hands…”
CLU kissed the top of his head, like Flynn had when he went off to school; a gesture meant to comfort and relieve his misery. For CLU it was mocking; for being a good boy and taking whatever the sick bastard gave him - and Sam reeled at the touch.
He rolled the boy off his abdomen, letting him collapse onto the mattress limply as if half dead. Sam pulled his knees to his chest and hid his face in his hands. He trembled, breathing ragged. He’d exhausted himself crying and screaming and now that there was nothing left he didn’t know how to cope.
CLU sat up, taking his time to catch his breath, wipe the sweat from his brow, and comb his hair back neatly with his hands. When he stood his suit reconstructed and he stretched uncomfortably, annoyed by how tightly it clung to his damp skin. He gave Sam no other acknowledgement, leaving him lay there in his wretched state as he went to meet Rinzler.
The User was pathetic; easy to manipulate and completely inferior. The victory was sweet because he was the son of Flynn, but otherwise CLU lamented he broke too easily. Still, he looked forward to their next encounter, knowing if he wanted to keep breaking Sam he would have to be increasingly twisted and clever, never allowing him to grow numb.
Sam watched CLU through the slits between his fingers, not wanting to be anywhere near him, but frightened of being alone. If the door closed and it was dark and silent he thought he might die; thought he might be forced to kill himself.
CLU walked out of the room, finding the air refreshing and sweet after being in a dank cell full of blood and sweat and cum. He called from the doorway, "Pull yourself together," hands folded neatly with a smirk on his lips. "The next Game starts now."