The car slows, then stops; the passenger door opens.

The guy inside is not that much older than Chris, if at all. Eighteen, maybe nineteen. Cute face, ambiguous ethnicity, dressed much less expensively than his car in jeans and a black leather jacket.

Oh, nice. Hot guy in an expensive car.

He ups his prices, because the car's expensive and he really wants to go home. "Blowjob's sixty bucks, you can fuck me in the ass for one twenty."

"I'll take a blowjob, get in."

Rich dude must think it's his first night. 

"Cash first."

He rolls his eyes, digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulls a bill out of it without paying much attention. It's a hundred. "I'm not cheap, just impatient."

Awesome. Six Flags here he comes.

Chris ducks behind the car so rich guy can't see, tries to figure out whether to stash it in his boot or the secret pocket in his pants, and decides the pants are more secure.

Then he puts on his best sexy-client smile and enters the car. He'll give this guy a good performance. Maybe kiss him a bit. Acting turned on won't even be hard, he can feel himself getting horny at the guy's smile. Fuck.

Maybe rich guy will hurt him.

Rich guy smiles at him, and rolls up the windows, and looks at him like he's a bowl of ice cream waiting for a spoon—

—and then his eyes glow gold, a colour like fire and sunlight, and the doors lock audibly without him touching anything, and the windows go black so the only light in the car is his eyes, and Chris can't move, and the rich guy who may or may not be some sort of demon is grabbing him by the back of the neck and dragging his head down. His touch burns like a brand.

...hot. 

A different person would remark on how "hot" is not a normal reaction to being fucked by a maybe demon, and perhaps should lead people to be concerned about his judgment, but Chris did not get to where he is today by questioning his ill-advised impulses, so what Chris thinks is "hot."

His fake sexy-client face turns into a sort of blissed-out snarl that is very, very real. 

Oh that's fun. Now he wants to hurt him some more.

Rather than deal with the logistics of taking Chris's shirt off for better access to skin, he decides to find out if his magic powers can teleport all of Chris's clothes into a pile in the tiny cargo area behind the seats. It looks like they can! And now there's this whole entire back for him to run his hands over, burning and healing and burning again, with Chris's face pinned in his lap, pressing against his extremely obvious hard-on through his jeans. After a few seconds of this, he un-paralyzes him.

When Sean teleports off Chris's clothes, he'll discover that Chris has small breasts and a vagina.

Chris, however, completely fails to process that this outed him; he's not thinking much of anything at all except that he loves the sensation of being burned, he loves being touched, he loves being close to the dick, he wants to hurt and he wants Sean to be turned on by him hurting and he wants to be good--

Well, he'll get the opportunity to discover that; the discovery itself is delayed by the fact that Sean has Chris pinned lying face down with his head in Sean's lap in very dim light, and is also kind of distracted.

He does notice after another minute, though, when he idly reaches down to grope Chris's crotch (with burning fingers). Huh. That's not what he expected to find there.

Chris would probably have some opinions about this discovery if his clit weren't being burned at the time. 

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-- he comes-- fuck fuck fuck fuck--

This just keeps getting more fun! He's almost distracted from that blowjob he wanted! Almost.

He grabs the back of Chris's neck again, opens his fly and pulls out his dick and shoves it in Chris's mouth. It'll be fun to find out if Chris has the focus to suck cock with Sean's hand burning his neck.

Sean is not getting a particularly skilled blowjob, but Chris has sucked kind of a lot of dick over the past five years and has excellent muscle memory. Also, Chris keeps making these little half-choked noises of something between pleasure and pain, which might make up for any deficiencies in his technique.

Those are some excellent noises.

He decides to find out how much pain it takes before Chris totally loses all ability to function. The burning heat at Chris's neck starts spreading over his skin, down his back, wrapping around to cover his chest and stomach.

Chris enjoys more pain than most people. He hadn't, before now, gotten to the edge of his ability to enjoy being hurt with the tools he has available-- rubber bands and knives, clothespins and ginger root, candles and kneeling on rice, Rachel's fists and hands and teeth, the occasional flogger or paddle or cane at the hands of a hookup or client he's reckless enough to sub for. 

This hurts enough to bring him to the edge of too much.

He whimpers, screws his eyes shut, keeps moving around Sean's cock. 

Wow, that's a good reaction. Really good. Really, really good.

The heat spreads farther. Reaches his crotch, covers it and keeps going. Streaks of pain spiral down his arms and legs. Sean's hand squeezes the back of his neck, which in its current blistered state hurts a lot.

That's-- too much-- it's much too much-- he forces himself to move a little bit, stops, can't think, ends up just moaning in genuine agony with his mouth still around Sean's cock. 

He can't think, it hurts, it hurts so much, he's never felt anything this painful in his entire life, he--

That's incredibly fucking hot, and now he's holding Chris's head down and fucking his throat, and he wants to come but he doesn't want to stop but luckily he is magic and can just have both these things. He comes, and his eyes flare gold and his cock is still hard and it still feels just as good to be fucking Chris's face, and then he slows down to let him breathe a little and starts pulling back the heat and healing the burns in its wake, until after a half-minute or so there's just the burn under his hand.

Chris is having his first coherent thought after several minutes of torture. 

His thoughts are fuck I wanted to be paying attention while I swallowed his come, and I'm terrified, and I've never been this turned on before in my life, and jesus fucking christ that hurt, I hope I didn't break something and so, magic is real and fuck fuck fuck fuck that hurt I did not like that at all.

What he says, when he pulls off Sean's dick, is "more please."

He laughs. "Wow," he says, intrigued, "really?"

Chris tries to come up with words for what he wants to say and ends up with, "you can hurt me worse than that."

"I can," he agrees. "I'm a little surprised you want me to. Good surprised, though." He squeezes the burn on the back of Chris's neck.

He hisses.

"I like getting hurt."

"I noticed. It's nice."

He lets go of Chris's neck and trails burning fingers down his spine, strokes his lower back, settles the hand on his hip and squeezes. His eyes are still glowing, but they're not the only source of light in the car anymore; there's a faint ambient light that's more or less enough to see by.