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E. P. Arnold Royalton entered the cabin of his K-Harrier with a spring in his step, the thrill of anticipation rising in his chest. The crew made way as he passed, readily giving him the absolute privacy he always demanded.
“That was an outstanding performance, Speed,” he commended with oily solicitousness as he approached the jet’s sole passenger resting in one of the fine cream leather seats and gave him a grandiose pat on the back. “And dare I say that suit still fits you perfectly! It’s as if you were made to wear Team Royalton’s colors.” It really was so satisfying to see him in his new livery as he drove his cars, the Racer family’s white and red discarded for opulent purple and gold.
For just a split second, the boy’s face seemed to light up, chuffed with pride. Speed Racer was still as deliciously naïve as the day he signed his life away. But now it was time to drop the pretense. He had goaded him into making a fatal mistake once before. Surely he could do it again.
“However, I’m afraid that it won’t be enough.” Royalton paused for dramatic effect. He relished being the bearer of bad news. “I know I said that if you won at the Fuji Helexicon, I would assist in halting the litigation against your father’s business, but…” he sat down in the chair beside him and grinned widely. “I’m afraid I’ve changed my mind!” He reached out and gave Speed’s thigh a lingering rub in false comfort, hardly noticing as the jet began its smooth takeoff and ascent.
“But you promised! You know those claims are bogus.” The look in Speed’s big, innocent eyes had turned from hurt to heated. Slowly, as if the wheels in his head were finally turning, he looked at him accusingly, as if seeing his benefactor for the first time. “Don’t tell me…you’re the one behind all this?”
Royalton couldn’t hold back a nasty guffaw at the indignant look on his face.
“Took you long enough to figure it all out! Didn’t it, boy?”
“How could I have been such a fool?” Speed shook his head in disbelief as he rose and tried to distance himself from him, but of course in the confines of the aircraft there was no place to run. He pounded a fist on the wall in frustration. “I’m through driving for you! Consider the contract void.” Royalton observed him cautiously. He had never seen the boy so angry, and it was delightful.
He stood and approached the windowed wall, caging Speed’s smaller frame with his arms.
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works.” Speed turned and tried to square with him, but Royalton caught him by the wrists and pinned him in place. “Look here.”
He reached down for the remote, and with a blip he switched on the monitor for the jet’s entertainment system. Right away, the screen let up with the live cam footage he’d prepared for the occasion: Mom and Pop being interrogated by a grim-looking man dressed in black, Sparky looking miserable with his head in his hands, Trixie’s car being tailed down a dark road. All of them clearly unaware that they were being watched.
“You’re a monster.” Speed spat the words at him and Royalton laughed openly, happy to agree.
“Now then, to ensure that no one gets ah, injured, do cooperate with me, will you?” His hands caressed the boy’s cheek though he tried to shake him off. He snapped his fingers, and as if on cue, Royalton, Inc. security staff slid the dividing door open and peered into the cabin, burly figures imposing, their expressions hidden by dark sunglasses.
He was elated to sense Speed stiffen in surprise. “You see? You’re outnumbered.” With a cruel smile, his fingers found the silk of speed’s tie and began to loosen it. “Mr. Racer, I’m afraid this is on you. You and your little family should have known what a raw deal this would be from the start.”
Speed’s eyes widened in hurt and betrayal as he yanked the tie from his neck and attacked his buttons. It was a tricky thing, getting the stubborn little upstart to surrender himself to him, but Royalton knew how to hit him where it hurt the most.
The boy was trying not to react, but the tension in his arms and sweat dotting his brow betrayed his distress. It seemed the shock of what was being done to him had left him dazed and vulnerable, unsure of how to escape. With a wave of Royalton’s hand, the bodyguards withdrew, and once again they were ostensibly alone.
“You’ll never get away with this,” Speed hissed through gritted teeth. Royalton could only chuckle. The self-righteous act was all too amusing.
“On the contrary, Mr. Racer,” he answered breathlessly as he tugged him close enough to breathe in his scent. “I have gotten away with everything.”
His hands roamed over Speed’s body, freshly washed and ready for the press tour, feeling him up through his clothes. He groped him with greedy palms, rubbing circles into his taut chest and feeling him up down to the inseam of his trousers, lingering to fondle his crotch. It was an effort well spent to make it so that he could see him like this.
He didn’t let it show in public, but he couldn’t help but get a little stiff at the sight of him in the suit he’d had custom-tailored just for him. Ever since their first meeting, he had longed to strip him of his woefully pedestrian polo shirts and jeans. And now look at him. He pressed himself harder against Speed as he continued to strip him, unable to resist. The finely woven violet shirt joined the woolen suit jacket in a growing pile as they were tossed aside onto a chair.
“Please…” Speed finally begged, voice defeated. “Don’t hurt them.” Royalton smirked as he looked over to admire the screen showing the unfolding drama to his captive audience. The fools were none the wiser. No fancy car tricks could save them now. Only their golden boy would know they were being used as a bargaining chip.
Royalton beamed beatifically.
“It seems you finally understand what’s at stake, Mr. Racer,” he chuckled in triumph as he eagerly divested Speed of his belt. “Now stay still and give me what I want.” The buckle hit the plush carpet with a faint thud as he pushed him down face-forward onto his chair.
The K-Harrier was equipped with everything he needed, beyond having staff with discretion. The seats reclined fully, giving him easy access to his body as he finished baring him completely. He gave Speed’s ass a possessive grope as he tossed the bundle of clothing and shoes to the side.
Royalton couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. He pressed himself up against Speed, rubbing his clothed erection on him and embracing him close enough to treat himself to laves of his tongue over the sensitive skin of his neck. When he finally elicited an unwilling moan, his cock twitched with need. The boy suppressed the sound immediately, but the look of shame when he turned his head along with the flush spreading over his entire body was unmistakable. Royalton unzipped himself quickly, spurred on by the enticing display. Speed Racer at half-mast with disheveled hair and ruddy cheeks looked eminently fuckable. He sighed in relief when his length emerged, fully hard.
“You don't have to do this!” Speed cried out even as he complied. A last stand for heroism. Royalton scoffed in annoyance.
“Oh, but you’re wrong there, Mr. Racer.” Royalton was filled with twisted glee as he leered down at his conquest. “I’ve known I wanted to do this to you since the moment we met.”
He reached into the side panel drawer for something to ease the act. The jet was stocked with far more than just candy and cocktails. He rubbed the lubricant over himself, electrified by the sight of Speed’s body lying prone and tense as if in submission, ass up and ready to be fucked. Royalton’s Racer. A perfect whore.
He shoved two wet fingers in him roughly, and Speed keened. His movements were fast and haphazard, coating himself as quickly as he could.
Royalton chuckled again as he slid his cock into the boy, balls brushing against him at his deepest thrusts. He placed his sweaty hands over the back of Speed’s cold ones. His grip was white-knuckled and agonized from the strain, a far cry from the skilled, easy hold they had on the steering wheel when he drove.
“You’re every bit as good as I dreamed, Speed.”
“I won't- ,” the boy under him made a valiant effort to defy him, but another deep thrust cut him off, turning his words to whimpers.
“Now, now, just shut up and let me fuck you,” Royalton sneered dismissively. He kept up the pace as he pistoned into him, making Speed shudder while his cock entered his tight ass again and again.
“How does it feel to be bought, Mr. Racer?” he scowled nastily as he growled the words in his ear. Speed choked back a sob, and it was music to his ears.
The boy must have been horrified when he came first. His cry of dismay was silenced by Royalton roughly pulling him into a domineering kiss as he reached his own orgasm, his tongue invading Speed’s mouth as he filled him with his come.
Royalton breathed deeply as he rode out the wave of pleasure. He relished Speed’s broken, empty gaze that was reflected in the jet’s floor-embedded window as they made their descent into Cosmopolis. It seemed like only yesterday that he and his pathetic entourage were gushing at his extravagant welcome and all the possibilities that were in store for them.
As he pulled out, he stood back to admire his handiwork: Speed Racer comestained and ruined, trembling on the opulent leather. Beneath them, the winding track of Grand Prix colosseum glistened as they flew over, mocking him.
Royalton returned to Speed’s side and stroked his back, feigning tenderness towards his new pet.
He couldn’t wait until the next race.