'What the fuck?' Did I need to call the police? what would I even say; 'I'm watching a dark web live stream from a foreign country. Nothing has happened yet but I'm abnormally afraid for my millionaire sugar daddy.'
Four figures entered the room. They were dressed in black, like stagehands, each carrying a toolbox. With Jay voluntarily reclining on the bed, they secured the man's arms and legs with silver duct tape, spreading his body like a butchered animal on a grill.
"Cover his eyes and mouth?" asked one of the stagehands in a distinctly Asian accent.
"No," said the digital voice. "We need to let the world see his face."
Jay seemed to find this funny. "You never change."
"Neither do you, Jay," the voice chuckled. It was a genderless voice with a unique comforting kindness. "L2, please introduce the first tool."
One of the stagehands pulled out a long flexible rod that resembled something out of a magic show. He approached Jay's body, gently stroking his chest. The thick metal tip grazed his nipple and then hit it with an audible strike. The whip-like weapon certainly had weight to it.
Jay groaned, holding back any further expression of discomfort.
"Does that hurt?" the voice asked.
Jay nodded.
"Not enough for the chat."
I looked around for a chat box. If I had been watching on my laptop, I would have been able to view both windows, but on my phone, that was not an option. I would have to settle for watching the feed while listening to the pings of the chat in the background.
"L8 please begin." The next stagehand had a paint bucket of a thick, clear substance. Using a typical brush meant for painting walls, he started at Jay's neck, applying a coating down his chest, to his legs.
Jay closed his eyes, resting comfortably. His defined muscles shimmered in the moonlight.
This seemed to annoy the host. "Are you shivering, Jay?"
"It's a little cold."
The chat box pinged, causing the voice to giggle. "He certainly does look like a perfectly marinated piece of meat. Are you ready for the grill, Jay?"
"I can take anything."
"We shall see. L9, please begin."
The next stagehand put on rubber gloves before picking up what appeared to be a police baton. the performer stroked the weapon down Jay's chest, making sure to dip it in the unknown liquid before striking him again. This time it set off a spark.
"My servant will be sure to leave you with a beautiful scar."
'Was that a taser baton?' Maybe it was fake; just a special effects toy meant to look menacing on camera, that had to be it.
The stagehand dragged the tip along Jay's body. There were noticeable bolts of electricity, causing his muscles to flinch.
Again, the voice giggled. "A body your age has no business looking this good."
The stagehand adjusted the electric wave, before pressing the baton to Jay's inner thigh.
Jay grunted in pain, but still held back screams.
"You're a strong one," the voice giggled. "Do you have a woman, or a man, maybe both?"
The stagehand guided the electric pulse over Jay's skin.
That was why they put the lube (or whatever that was) to make the effect (of the bright vibrant electric arch) look more dramatic than it really was.
Jay's body went tense, his muscles convulsing with every touch. it was clear he was in pain as a single word exited Jay's lips. "Val."
"Val? Is that the person you love; the person who gives you the strength to move forward in your sad, pathetic excuse of a life?"
I knew that was sarcasm, but WTF?
"Yes."
"What can you tell me about Val?"
"Val." Jay's stomach muscles tensed, causing him to fight for breath. "He's a soldier."
"Is or was?" the voice asked politely, as the electric pulse danced over his nipple, coming dangerously close to Jay's heart.
"Both; he's a devoted father who deserved better in this life." There was clearly more he wanted to say, but to force the words would have caused him unnecessary pain.
"This Val sounds like a beautiful soul. Let's move along to the next phase."
The stagehand with the lube bucket helped drip generous amounts of liquid onto the toy. Two other stagehands forced Jay's legs apart, exposing his tight, throbbing asshole.
"Let's get a good shot of that for the viewers at home."
One stagehand picked up the camera while another positioned the toy next to Jay's inner thigh. The electric bolt danced along his skin, causing Jay to cry out.
"Please, oh fuck please." He was begging to be penetrated.
The camera was moved to get a better shot of Jay's face. Then, without warning the device was rammed inside of him. He was being fucked with the live electric pulse. Jay's mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound came out. Part of me hoped to see one of the stagehands secure a ball gag, allowing Jay something to bite down on. (Or maybe I was wrong and keeping his airway open was the best way to prevent him from choking to death on his own tongue.)
"Does it hurt, my love?" The boss character entered the frame. The tall slender figure had long black hair, perfect tits, and an average-sized cock. She wore a mask that appeared to be made of two mirrored surfaces, joined together in the shape of a heart. "It's okay to cry."
"When's the last time you've seen me cry?"