Richie was just hanging out in his old neighborhood. He had come for a party but ended up outside trying to clear his head. Things were so different now; it was like he didn't fit in here anymore. He didn't feel like he really fit in with the rich crowd like Mac and Tess either though. So he wandered around a little. He'd think later he should have been more careful, but who knows whether it would have done any good.
He stopped suddenly as he heard a crash off in an alley to his left. He didn't notice the two men who came toward him from the street, who suddenly grabbed him and hauled him, bodily into a car before he could think much less scream. Not that it might have done any good.
It was an odd car ride to say the least. He was practically sitting on some big guy's lap, with huge meaty arms encircling him. The other man tied a gag around his mouth and bound his hands in front of him. He could tell they were heading to the warehouse district. When they stopped the man holding him handed him off to the other man. They were treating him like a child, always one hand on him or wrapping him in a bear hug. He was maneuvered inside.
Once inside the men exchanged his ropes for iron shackles which made Richie really nervous. As he looked around he noticed there were lots of well-dressed people milling around. There were also lots of kids about his age or younger in shackles, without clothes. "What the fuck?!" thought Richie as he began to panic. This didn't seem to be about Mac or immortals and frankly that made him more frightened.
His attention turned back to his captors when they took out a knife. He struggled uselessly against the two behemoths. He saw the knife coming toward him, looked on helplessly as it moved slowly toward his chest, and watched it dip into the v on his shirt. The knife was slicing through the material of his clothes. His relief was momentary. "Whoa, why are they cutting off my pants?!"
He was still fighting when a well dressed man came up to the three of them. "So you got him?" the man asked. "Good I have a buyer who's very interested," the man continued as he reached out to stroke Richie's face which just made Richie more furious. "Ooh, he'll be even more pleased to know the kid's got spunk." The man walked away as Richie glared at his back.
Things were getting quieter as he stood there, held against one of his captors with an arm across his now naked chest. Richie watched several more subdued teens being led into another room from which he could hear talking and sometimes clapping. He was cold and scared half out of his mind. "If it's not about immortals will Mac be able to find me?" he thought. Then he was being pulled toward the door, it was very bright on the other side and it took him a couple of moments for his eyes to adjust and look around. What he saw made him begin to resist more stubbornly. Vainly he attempted to dig in his heels, but the men just hauled him out anyway.
There was an audience, men and women sitting in chairs staring at him as he was drug forward, past a podium. His arms were forced over his head and secured. He felt completely defenseless as dozens of eyes stared at his nakedness. He knew what was going on; this was a human market, every street kid's worst nightmare. It was like the bogey-man though, this shit didn't really happen… and why him, why now? He was so lost in his panic that he didn't even notice that the bidding was over. He was led away to a man. The man who had bought him was tall and built, not huge like the men surrounding him but too strong to get away from Richie thought. The man had brown hair and brown eyes, really average. Richie was handed off to the thugs surrounding this new man. One of the thugs had a syringe with a sedative that he stuck in Richie's shoulder.
Richie awoke laying cold cement. It looked like another warehouse. He shifted uncomfortably. The men noticed he was awake. As he was hauled to his feet, Richie didn't see the man who had bought him, only his thugs. They dragged him to a bathroom and then unchained him. He was stunned and just stood there rubbing his wrists before he attempted to take off his gag. The men let him. "You can go to the bathroom and take a shower. Come out when you're done." It was the first time he had been directly spoken to since this whole thing started. They closed the door.
Richie looked around the room. There was no mirror or glass of any kind to be used as a weapon, no windows either. Richie felt resigned. Nothing had happened to him yet, so some of the fear had worn off. He took as long as possible with the shower; stepping out long after all the hot water was gone. Finally he was forced to open the door. Two men were on the other side. They didn't say anything about the length of his shower. That worried Richie. He was hoping that he could stall long enough for Mac to find him, but his captors didn't appear worried about time at all. The men replaced his shackles and led him back out to the warehouse. They pushed him to the floor and gave him a sandwich. They put a water bottle on the floor next to him.
Richie slowly began to eat the sandwich looking around. He couldn't think of any smart comments just then. He was scared. These men weren't using him as bait, weren't threatening anyone he cared about. There was nothing left to feel but fear. So he sat and waited. He drank the water and asked to go to the bathroom. About an hour after that one of the men got a phone call. He got up and nodded to another man. They both advanced on Richie.
When the man who had bought him came in, the gag had been replaced and Richie's arms were shackled to two poles so his arms were stretched out to his sides. His feet were chained to a bar which held them open. The fight which had seemed gone earlier reappeared at the sight of his captor. The man came up to him and chuckled. "Go ahead and fight. I never liked easy prey."
Richie shivered involuntarily as the man stepped closer to him. The man's hand was warm and dry as it caressed Richie's cheek and ran through his hair. Then it latched onto the curls and pulled Richie's head back. Richie could feel the man's tongue on his exposed throat. He tried to jerk away but there was no where to go and the man held fast. Then the man's hands moved to his chest, carding his fingers through the hair there, pinching his nipples. "This can't be happening," Richie thought. "Shit like this doesn't really happen. I'm too old to be molested."
The man's hands then moved around Richie's back, pressing the two of them together and Richie was very conscious of his nakedness against the older man's clothes. It made him feel even more vulnerable. He looked around the room to see two body guards pretending not to be watching the proceedings. Richie's face began to feel hot as he turned back toward the man touching him. His captor then dropped to his knees in front of Richie, his hands still holding Richie's naked sides, his face pressed against his belly. Richie felt like he was hyperventilating, his breath coming in short gasps that couldn't seem to fill his lungs with air. The man was nuzzling his stomach as his hands wandered over Richie's skin. The hands smoothed down his back, over the curve of his ass down the outside of his thighs and then began moving up, up his inner thighs. Richie tried to move his legs together, forgetting about the bar holding them apart. His chains rattled with his movements. The man chuckled again as he stood up. The slap came from out of nowhere, Richie's face red both from the impact and from shame. He began to struggle in earnest then and trying to yell at the man despite the gag. The man moved behind him, trailing his fingertips on Richie's torso as he went. Then he pressed himself against the redhead's back and Richie went still. He could feel the man's erection pressed against the small of his back and it made him break out in a cold sweat. The man was nuzzling Richie's ear, his hands caressing Richie's chest, but Richie was looking around desperately. "Mac will be here any second, right? He's not gonna let this happen to me, he'll come busting in looking like a bad action flick and get this creep off me…"
Richie's thoughts were interrupted by the feel of leather around his neck. He watched one of the body guards put down his gun and walk over to them. One hand was unshackled and Richie struggled wildly, but the metal was simply attached to the collar that he now wore. Then the other hand, so he was standing with his fists bunched under his chin before they dragged him down on his knees. It was awkward with his feet so far apart. His wrists were then secured to a ring on the floor so he was kneeling with his head down and his ass up. Lastly the gag was removed. Before he had time to really consider this though, he heard the crack of leather. He tried to look up at the noise but he could barely turn his head. He felt the leather rub against his back a second later though. "Such beautiful pale skin," his captor commented seemingly to himself. Then the leather belt was brought down hard on Richie's back.
Richie's cry rang out in the almost empty warehouse. In the silence that followed all Richie could hear was the sound of his own harsh breathing as he began struggling against his bonds again. He was surprised again by the second blow, and he cried out in pain again. Richie began to bite his bottom lip in his attempt to keep quiet as the blows continued. After three more there was a hand petting his hair. His body stiffened as the hand moved over the welts on his back. Then it was gone, replaced a second later by a kiss on his lower back. Richie arched his neck, hoping vainly to see what was going on, what would happen next. He was better off not knowing.
He felt the pressure at his entrance and knew it was the other man's cock. "No, no, no, no," Richie repeated to himself, knowing he was powerless to stop what was coming. He screamed once as the man's cock breached his body. The man's fingers dug into Richie's hips as the cock drove in deeper and deeper and then stopped. A hand left his hips to roam over the boy's back as if soothing. Then the man withdrew and thrust in again. "Unnnh," Richie groaned as he thrust and whimpered as he withdrew. He felt like he was being ripped apart, the sting of the friction bringing tears to his eyes. But he didn't cry, he felt numb, his mind hadn't quite caught up with what was happening. Then the man collapsed on him, the weight of the other man pushing the air out of Richie's lungs even as he felt the salty sting of the man's pleasure. Then the weight was gone.
The man left Richie kneeling on the floor. Richie was too engrossed in his own ordeal to care. He was blinking back tears and trying to take deep breaths that shuddered. His entire body was trembling and he could feel the wetness dripping down his thighs. He felt like he might be sick. He wanted to go home, to be safe in his bed. He wanted Mac and Tessa to comfort him. "Oh God, Mac," Richie thought. "Mac will think I'm disgusting. He won't understand, I had no choice, cuz this would never happen to him. They can't know about this. He'll think I'm a whore that I'd sell myself as well as steal." He didn't notice the man coming up behind him with a syringe again.
When Richie awoke the next day it was the same drill. He had been unchained from the floor but his wrists were still stuck to his collar. The bar had been removed. The guards took off the shackles and the collar and took him to the bathroom again. Richie took another long shower, not because he was stalling this time though. It was obvious that the man came when he felt like it. No this time it was long as he scrubbed himself. He could feel the welts on his back and saw the bruises on his hips. It strengthened his resolve that Mac would never know about this.
He was fed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which he nibbled at only because he didn't know when he would be fed again. He drank the water greedily though and was given more. After lots of waiting and several trips to the bathroom, the guards came to him again. This time two of them held him down while another injected something directly into the vein in his arm. Then they let him go completely, stepping back as his captor walked toward them. Richie wanted to run but he felt like he could barely move. He felt so tired and his limbs weren't obeying as he struggled to stand…
The man came up to him, gripping his elbow to help him up. But Richie couldn't help swaying and could barely stay standing. The man's arm went around his waist supporting him as his other hand gripped Richie's jaw. Richie closed his eyes and felt lips softly touch his. He jerked his head to the side, but the man brought it back forward. A warm soft tongue outlined his full lips and then pressed inward. The man's grip tightened on Richie's face as the tongue explored his mouth.
Richie felt drunk, like he was at a party. Who was he making out with again? He slowly opened his eyes and saw the man. He struggled, weakly trying to shove off the man's chest. That was when he noticed the man was naked too this time. Richie's head rolled back in his attempt to separate from the kiss, but the man just took the opportunity to suck hard on his exposed throat. The man walked back a few steps, pulling Richie with him and then sat down in a chair. Richie was pulled down to sit straddling the man's lap. His head rolled forward and the man took it as an invitation to resume kissing him. First the upper lip and then the lower one were sucked and bitten before the tongue pressed in deep again. Then the man released Richie's mouth, and ground his cock into Richie's stomach. Richie gasped at the contact on his own cock and at the pain of the man's grip on his already bruised hips. The man stilled for a moment and Richie drifted again.
He felt fingers rubbing the back of his neck. He lifted his head; Mac did that when he fell asleep in the car or on the couch. "Mac," Richie whispered opening his eyes again. Panic flared through him and he pushed weakly again at the man's chest. The man gripped his wrists hard, pulling Richie forward. One hand then released to slip around Richie, pulling his body toward the man. His captor began to lick his nipple; Richie couldn't control his arousal at the touch in his drug induced state. Then the man bit down hard and the redhead whimpered and jerked. The man was suckling with ferocity first one nipple then the other. His hand moved down the cleft between Richie's buttocks and stroked his entrance. "No," Richie breathed. He watched as the man slicked oil on his hardened penis before deftly lifting Richie off his lap and positioning him. His own weight drove the man's cock in deep. Richie's cry sounded like a child's, his fists beat ineffectually on the man's chest. "It hurts," Richie said as the man pushed his hips down hard, rotating inside him. Richie didn't feel the tears until his captor's thumb was wiping them away. The older man kissed Richie's face softly, his forehead, cheeks, chin, nose. Then the man's arms were around him and he was gently settled on the hard floor.
Richie's legs were lifted and placed on the man's shoulders. Then the man drove into him hard. Richie began to sob as the man fucked him viciously, driving him into the floor, his thighs practically pressed into his own chest. "Stop!" Richie sobbed, and then the man withdrew. His captor stood over him as he turned on his left side and curled in on himself, still sobbing. The guards let him cry for a few minutes after the man walked away, before injecting him again.
He woke up in the same position, still unchained. Richie stood hesitantly, feeling like he might keel over at any minute. He walked slowly to the bathroom. Once in the shower he just sat on the floor and let the water wash over him. He waited for the man to come back numbly. His wrist shackles had been put back on but nothing else. He sat on the floor and hugged his legs, waiting.
Finally the guards laid him on his back and attached his wrists to a pole; his ankles were shackled also with a short chain connecting them. Richie thought he saw pity in the eyes of one of the guards as he leaned over him. He wanted to hit the guy. The welts on Richie's back smarted as he lay there, resigned as his captor, naked, positioned himself between Richie's legs.
The man's hand ghosted over Richie's torso. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.
Fuck you," Richie replied. A hard slap followed the comment. Richie glared back at the man kneeling over him. The man pulled Richie's butt onto his lap, stretching Richie's arms out. Then he pressed into Richie, completely dry. Richie struggled as much as he could. He was already so sore that it felt like agony, like fire. His head hit the floor hard in his struggles. At first he thought he was disoriented from hitting his head. But then he saw him, Mac wrestling with the guards at the door. He struggled harder in his joy at seeing him, but his captor continued to thrust into him with fervor.
Richie felt something…wrong inside. The pain was becoming unbearable; everything felt squishy as the man continued to fuck him. Richie looked up at his captor with wide blue eyes, and then he looked back at MacLeod. Mac had made it into the warehouse and was fighting with the guys inside. "No, Mac can see what he's doing, Mac wasn't supposed to know…" His panicked thoughts were cut off as the man above him covered his mouth and nose with a large hand. Richie started getting dizzy, he could still feel the man inside him and hear his impassioned grunts, but it seemed far away. His vision was darkening at the edges, then the man let go.
Richie heard a roar then; he turned to see Mac staring at him, trying to get to him through three guards. He turned away ashamed. He felt hands on his right arm, but as he turned to look he felt it break with an audible snap. Richie bucked wildly with the pain, which seemed to be what his captor had in mind. Richie's head turned from side to side like he was trying to clear his head, like this was all a bad dream. Then the thrusting stopped. He looked up to see his captor's horrified face and the katana protruding through his chest. Then the man was gone. He felt cold and lightheaded; his arms were unchained but still shackled and were lying on his stomach now. He was on someone's lap; he started at that, trying to get away before he saw it was Mac.
"Mac I'm sorry," his voice was a whisper. "I didn't mean to, it wasn't my fault…" His eyes teared up before he passed out.
Duncan was in shock. Richie hadn't come home from a party in his old neighborhood four days ago. He had discovered that the boy had been sold, sold. Then when he got here to rescue him, what he had seen…it was horrific. And now the boy was hemorrhaging, blood pouring out from between his legs. If Richie died and came back as an immortal from this…Duncan shuddered.
Richie was just a boy and what he had said before he passed out, what did that mean? Duncan took off his shirt, pressing it between the boy's legs as if that would stop the flow of blood, then he carefully scooped the boy up and took him outside to wait for the ambulance that he had called from an office inside the warehouse. No the boy would live and get over this, Duncan would see to that.