Title: To His Knees

Author: Criss Moody

Date: October 17^th, 2000

Distribution: Archives of the lists that receive this, yes. Anyone else, please ask.

Content Warning: non-consensual sexual activity, rape, m/m sex, much darkness.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Forrest/?

Summary: Forrest goes on the hunt.

Spoilers: Set before Forrest is so rudely killed off by Joss.

Disclaimers: Joss Whedon and friends own the characters and the concepts. I just man-nap these little studs for a little fun from time to time.

Note: Very dark, be warned, not for the squeamish. It started out as a perfectly innocent little fuck story and turned down a dark, dark path. Go figure.

To His Knees, c.moody.

The throbbing beat of the 80's heavy metal vibrated through the club, setting hips to pumping and tables to trembling. Sweaty youthful flesh entangled on the dance floor, rubbing and fondling and feeling as the heat of the music and the moment brought them to dionysis heights of giddiness.

Forrest acknowledged the server with a small nod and a crisp, clean five dollar bill. With relief, he tilted the fake beer back and took a long swallow, relishing the icy cool, bitter taste. Nothing to do tonight but go back to his room and jack off, so the lean, dark man had come out to cruise. He'd give Riley's blonde cock-sucking machine a genuine smile before he'd leave the club without someone to suck his cock.

Casually, Forrest surveyed the dance floor from his small table on the edge of the small space, eyeing one tall leggy blonde before dismissing her because she had a small ass, then disqualifying a petite, but muscled youth as too much trouble. He was looking for quick, quiet, intense fuck. Nothing more complicate, more involving tonight. He'd settle for a blowjob, and quite frankly he didn't expect to find more. This town didn't attract Forrest's kind of prey.

The music changed, became a silky, low, quiet beat that made the blood pool down into Forrest's groin. It was the kind of music that made people just want to fuck, to rub themselves against flesh, silk, fur, velvet, craving sensual anything. As he took another long swallow of fake beer, Forrest saw what he was looking for.

Tall, dark-haired, clad in a pair of tan chinos and a dark blue knit polo shirt, the soon-to-be fuckee discreetly joined the mass of bodies gyrating to the hypnotic notes. The young, no, not too young, man appeared to be alone, and a rakish grin of success broke the fierce blackness of Forrest's face. This tasty morsel would be a sweet no contest fuck. The object of the black man's lust had "fuck me - I'm confused about my sexuality" written all over him.

He watched as the young man found his place on the dance floor, joining in just as a different song came on. This one was much the same as the last, slow and sexy, but the growly voice of the male singer screamed sex, and blood flooded the cock nestled in Forrest's tight Levis. Forrest's lustbunny began to move to the music, undulating his body behind two girls and a thin, wiry, but attractive man in tight cotton jeans and tee-shirt. In turn, the young man moved in time with each of his dance partners. From time to time, his pelvis would rub up against an ass, or his own posterior would make contact with soft, plush flesh or hard, bulged muscle. The blood began to pulse in Forrest's dick as he watched his prey rub against his male dance partner like a whore on pay day. His prey? The word had flashed into Forrest's mind, replacing the more casual, calm thoughts of a simple fuck.

Fuck waiting. Forrest quickly tossed the remainder of his drink back. He couldn’t let his prey escape, if that was what the boy would be. He melded into the crowd of limbs, his eyes eating up the small bit of neck that he could see. Soft cotton, slick leather, bare skin: they all rubbed against his chocolatey skin, reminding him of the sensual pleasure he was after. Soft, wet, a tongue rasping over his silky hard cock. Oh yeah. Eventually.

Forrest ground in between his prey and the other man; the man attempted to stop him, but Forrest looked at him, his dark eyes inky with lust and intent. Milliseconds passed as the other man moved away, and Forrest grasped the sinuously shifting hips before him. The young man didn't acknowledge the change in partners if he even noticed at all. Moving their hips together to the music, his hard-on rubbing against the crevice between the two pleasingly shaped mounds of flesh, Forrest fought to not tear into the ass as he moved against it. Tempting flesh, just enough to grab, hold, and squeeze. A small gasp escaped the younger man. Forrest smiled and bent his head to lick lightly at the exposed flesh at the back of the neck. Sliding his hands past the hip bones, they dived down to cradle the semi-hard cock.

A throaty groan let Forrest know that his hands were not in an unwanted place. Slowly, surely, the commando guided his dance partner's body across the crowded floor, heading straight for the supply closet just off of the stage. Just as Forrest moved to exit the dance floor, the sweaty creature cradled in his arms turned, barely making eye contact before cradling his face in the crook of Forrest's equally wet, salty skin. The boy had the sweetest dark eyes, like buttery soft leather. Giving into his urges, as Forrest always did, the tall dark man smashed his mouth to the other man's, dimly hearing their teeth click before their tongues brushed together. Oh lordy, this had to be heaven, or something close to it. Salty, sweet, minty like peppermint, a molten hot, fluid filled place of sinful temptation. He could drown in there for years, but he had better things in mind.

Breaking free from the soul splitting kiss, Forrest grabbed the boy's arm and yanked him along. Within seconds, they had entered the small, dark closet and Forrest had closed and locked the door behind them. Silently, reverently, the dark man, melded with the shadows, divested his prey of the neat clothing covering the luscious expanses of warm, silken skin. First the shirt, dragged ruthlessly over the head. Forrest lowered his head to the boy's chest, unerringly finding the tiny, hard nipples, biting and laving them with his moist tongue. The boy panted, shoving ineffectually at the older man's shoulders. In answer, Forrest shoved the warm body beneath his hands against the far wall, bending the young man's back against a low filing cabinet. One hand made short work of the belt while Forrest distracted the boy by tongue fucking his mouth. He suckled at the tongue, occasionally swiping his tongue across the boy's lips and the roof of his mouth, as he started to drop the belt but thought better of it.

The dim room hid Forrest's snarky grin. He ripped the boy's pants and boxer shorts down, effectively trapping the well-defined legs. With the belt in hand, he leaned further over the sleek, muscled body beneath his and with lightning speed, whipped the belt around the boy's fragile neck. A high-pitched squeal ended in a strangled gurgle when the belt made contact with white flesh, tightening around the area when Forrest held both ends in one hand and twisted. He lowered his head to his prey's ear, noting with pleasure how the young man's body trembled and sweated.

"I like this, when my prey figures out what's going to happen to them, what I'll do. You might think that I'd just do it, you don't know what it is, but you don't think you have a choice."

A slight twist of the leather belt produced a grunted whimper.

"You're wrong."

Forrest delicately touched the boy's bobbing, painfully hard cock, the skin stretched tight against pulsing veins and begging meat.

"You do."

Keeping his hand in the leather belt, Forrest knelt before the boy, bowing his head in a blasphemous mockery of prayer. He sucked the bulbous head of his prey's manhood into his mouth, swirling his saliva and the leaking precome around his taste-buds. The fear sliced across the delicate buds, heightening Forrest's senses as never before. Oh, this prey had potential, he really did. Without warning, the black man sucked his boy's cock into his mouth, taking it to the root. For a long second Forrest was still, savoring the leap and play of blood under silken skin. What little sound the boy could make, he did, squealing and screeching until the leather twisted more, silencing the sounds. Brutally, Forrest yanked his mouth off the boy, carelessly dragging his teeth across the sensitive glands at the head of the cock. The boy's hips bucked and heaved. The commando traveled back up the vibrant body, feeling the extra blood warmth in his prey's head. He worried the tender flesh of an earlobe between his sharp teeth before speaking again.

"You can choose to leave, or you can choose to stay. What do you want? Anonymity or oblivion?"

While loosening the belt to allow speech, Forrest snaked his other hand between the prey's sweat slicked buttocks, pressing lightly against the tight rosette of ruby flesh between the asscheeks. Unbeknownst to his prey, there was only one answer to his question, only one solution to the problem. Thus far, no one had ever answered correctly. The boy gasped for air as the constriction on his throat eased, his chest heaving, the sounds echoing the still darkness.

"Obli…" Throat muscles bruised, the boy could only nod.

What a lovely surprise.

Forrest paused to place a kiss on the pristine flesh of his prey's face. Then, the forbidding man sank to his knees, and simultaneously sucked the boy's aching male flesh into his eager mouth and tightened the leather belt a few notches. The innocent, untried flesh between his lips begged with a purity he'd seen in so few of his prey. The unthinking cock wanted something it didn't understand, but was more than capable of asking for. Diligently, Forrest worked his mouth on the cock, methodically lowering his mouth to the root, nipping gently at the head, flicking his knife-like tongue against the tender underside. All too soon, as was so often the case with his prey, potential or not, the boy's low-hanging ballsac twitched. With a beleaguered sigh, Forrest withdrew, ignoring his prey's frantic attempts to get friction on his saliva coated dick.

A few letdown twists of the belt, and the boy whimpered, his breathing labored as oxygen rushed into his lungs. As the boy began to relax against Forrest, mistakenly believing he was finished, the commando roughly thrust his first finger into the boy's ass, dry. A soundless scream rushed out of the boy's body, and he pressed into his attacker, his rapist, his lover. Unbidden, but expected, the boy's tormented cock shot its load, sending ribbons of silky come over Forrest's thighs, and between their torsos.

Forrest withdrew his finger to scoop up some come and suck it down. Salty, of course, and hot, but also oddly not bitter, the come tasted almost like a candy his mother had made…what was it? Powdered sugar…nuts…divinity! White, sweet, and chock full of tangy, nutty goodness.

With the taste, and the boy's acquiescence to what could only be deemed a rape, Forrest shifted the boy's title from prey to bitch, an important distinction. Prey fell beneath his hands in a squirming mass of blood and bone and meat and muscle. A bitch got to live.

Forrest just wanted to know one more thing before he continued. Licking his way into a ravaging kiss, he asked the question that had wiggled around at the back of his head since he'd seen his future bitch.

"What's your name."

A long silence, and a clear attempt to squeeze sound past abused vocal cords.

"Xander."

"Hmmm…nice name."

Forrest shoved his bitch to his knees, ramming his weeping cock into the creature's shock slack mouth. Not a boy, not a man, but a creature for Forrest's cock and hands, defined by the limits set by those parameters. Another boy sent to his knees.