The Last Handful of Clover - Book 1: The Hereafter

1.41 The Well

"Shhhh...." said the voice. "It will be easier for us both if you don't fight."

Howard swallowed his fear and croaked out a word.

Who...

The voice became softer, and thankfully, Howard felt the finger withdraw from his anus. The presence that was controlling him removed the hand from his pants, just long enough to bring his finger to his nose, and then his mouth. Howard smelled the fear sweat from his own crotch on that finger and then tasted his own dank musk. He almost gagged, but then the hand was back in his pants, back on his cock, stroking. He was almost thankful that it stopped there, and no longer tried to penetrate him.

The hand continued to stroke, and he felt his own body responding, involuntarily. His cock was hard now, and the hand eased his pants down, never ceasing the gentle, firm, stroking motion. Even in his terror, Howard at first feared that a guard would look into the cell. Then he prayed for it. Anything to make this violation stop.

I'm going mad, he thought. That is the only possible explanation...

This wasn't the first time that he had felt this presence. It was the same presence that took control of him just before he was picked up by his friends. It was the same presence that forced him to take the gun out of his father's cabinet. It was the same presence that he fought all the way into the Avenues, and it was the same presence he watched, helplessly, as it fired a gun into Richard Pratt's head.

He had almost convinced himself that the entire memory of that night was just a nightmare, or some kind of psychotic break. And of course he had never spoken of it, especially to Detective Grayson. But now, here was the presence, back again. And this time, it was speaking to him.

It hadn't spoken before.

"I need you to calm down, Howard. Doesn't this feel good?" He felt his hand squeeze his balls, harder than he would have ever done himself, and he cried out in pain, there in the dark well.

"Oh, you don't like that? I'm sorry, I'll be gentler," the voice said. "At least for now."

Who the fuck are you? Howard screamed. But more agony cut off his scream, as the pressure increased on his balls.

"Shhhh.... I told you that you have to stay calm. Just concentrate on the feeling. Concentrate on that hand on your cock. I don't imagine you get a lot of hand jobs here in jail." The voice laughed. "Or maybe you do. Maybe one of the guards comes into your cell at night? Doesn't it feel wonderful?"

Please stop...

"It's the first time I've felt this. I mean, really felt it, in more than twenty years. I'd forgotten how good it felt to have a new, soft cock in my hand." The voice laughed. "Although, not so soft now, huh?"

Who are you? What do you want with me?

"Hello, Howard, my name is Justin. It's very nice to meet you. I think you and I are going to be great friends."

Howard sank down against the cold wall of the well. He both felt the sour, rancid moss against his back, and the firm prison cot under his ass. He felt both the dank air of the well on his face, and the warm, firm hand on his cock. He whimpered, and tried to roll away from the feeling, but no matter how he turned or writhed there in the well, the feeling of that hand on him was always there. His body was not his own. His real body was still in a cell, far above. And his body was being used by...

By someone named "Justin."

Why... are you doing this? Howard whimpered, struggling mightily to keep his mind from snapping. Why, why why....

That last was a long moan that echoed off the cold stone walls.

"This? I'm doing this because I've worked up twenty fucking years of horniness, Howard." He felt his body recline backwards against the wall. The hand on his cock was moving furiously now, the dry hand chaffing and tearing at the tender skin on the underside of his cock. The warring feelings of pleasure and revulsion were so strong that he thought he might lose consciousness. "I'll explain everything to you eventually, my love. After all, we have a long life ahead of us. I can't stay yet, but soon I'll be back. And soon I'll stay forever. Every time I am inside you, I feel myself getting stronger. Eventually, I'll stay here forever. And then you and I will have plenty of time to talk. But for now, I just want you to come for me. I want to feel you blow your load across your own face."

Get out of my body, you psycho...

The voice was breathless now, as he felt Justin's orgasm nearing. "Oh, you and I are... going to have a lot of fun... with this body... I can't wait... to use it... I can't wait to explore it... to use it... to explore others... So many bodies... Women... Men... Oh Howard, my dear... You're as beautiful as I was, once... A long time ago...."

Howard tried to stop the inevitable. Who are you?

The presence laughed, and for the first time, Howard could tell. This was not a man. This was just a boy. A boy younger even than him. He could hear it in the voice.

"Let's just say... that God sent me..." The voice laughed again, and the echo of it on the stone walls made Howard want to clasp his hands over his ears. He felt the orgasm building in him, and it disgusted him and terrified him at the same time.

"So this is... for God... Let's blow a load... all over God's... fucking... FACE!"

He felt the semen explode from his cock, and the rush of the orgasm was so intense that he thought he might lose consciousness. The eyes he no longer controlled saw it shoot across his belly, and he felt it splash against his cheeks and into his open mouth.

It burned like hot coals on his tongue.