A/N- This is a short story I'm making based on CM Punk and Randy Orton. This one isn't going to be based on their feud or matches so much as just their relationship and what's going on outside of the ring. This one is going to have a more serious note and be pretty dark, probably darker than any of our other stories. If you aren't into that I'm thinking of doing another one would be more light hearted when I'm done with this one, but right now I just feel like doing this one is necessary for some reason. I need to give you a WARNING that this will contain violence, verbal abuse, hurt, possible rape, explicit slash, and possible physical abuse, just so you know what to expect getting in this one. I will try to keep the story short, I plan on 5-6 chapters, maybe a couple more. I plan on this story being very intense so let me know what you think and I hope you like this adventure away from our usual story lines.
-BattleBird
CM Punk moaned and arched his back as his lovers cock pierced him hard enough to hurt. The size wasn't the issue, though the man behind him thrusting furiously into his body was definitely not lacking in that department, Punk was used to the size. It was the massive size that hurt, but the sheer force. Punk was on his hands and knees on the bed, just trying to hold himself up was becoming a hard task as his boyfriend pounded into his already abused ass. Large hands clawed at his hips, leaving marks so bug Punk was sure his trunks wouldn't cover them up this time, and his back had scratches, his thighs had angry bites, his lip was red and throbbing from where the large fist had struck him. Punk let a tear roll down his cheek and choked back a sob and the man behind him continued the brutal assault, not paying any attention to whether Punk was in pleasure or pain, not taking care of Punk the way he used to.
With a final thrust Punk felt come fill his ass, felt the shudder go through his body and his lovers, felt the large cock that had been used to abuse him so many times soften and pull out, come dripping down his thighs when he did so. The large body on top of him rolled over and faced the wall, almost immediately asleep. Punk sighed as he looked at the large back, the shoulders covered in tattoos, and rolled to face the opposite way, not making any contact with the man next to him. He finally let all of the tears fall and he cried into his pillow, trying to be as quiet as possible. When had he become this person? When had he let another person take control of his life? Of him? When had Punk decided that he loved someone so much more than himself that his happiness and satisfaction didn't matter at all? Punk had become a slave to someone else's needs against his will. Closing his eyes Punk remembered.
It hadn't always been this way. Three years ago, when Randy Orton had asked him to go on their first date the larger man had been so nervous he stuttered and blushed. That's what Punk had loved about him, Randy had all the reason in the world to be the most confident man alive but could even look Punk in the eye to ask him to a movie. Of course Punk had said yes, giggling at Randy and lifting the man's face by the chin to look him in the eyes. On their date Randy had been so flustered he knocked over a glass of water on the dinner table. Punk loved that he was big and clumsy. After a few dates they had made love for the first time and it was the most magnificent thing Punk had ever felt. Randy had been so gentle and nervous, using his large hands to seduce a virginal Punk. Sure Punk had slept with people, but he had never bottomed before, never wanted to either, until Randy had come along. That night had been the most passionate of his life, something he will never forget, mostly because he liked remembering how Randy was back then, how he was back then. They were both different people now. All because of one mistake. One night….
/Flashback/
"What do you mean you slept with her?" Punk cried, looking at Randy with the most hurt expression on his face.
"Phil, baby," Randy tried to calm him down. "I didn't mean to-"
Punk laughed. "Oh, so your dick just found its way in her pussy? Let me guess, you guys fell down and it just happened?" The tears never stopped coming down his face as he made his way to their bedroom that they shared in their St. Louis home. Randy had convinced him to move in a few months before, after their one year anniversary. Making his way to the closet Punk grabbed his suit case and began throwing cloths inside haphazardly.
Once Randy had followed him into the bedroom the larger man also began o cry.
"Please, Phil. Please don't do this, just let me have a chance to show you that I love you. I will do anything, please forgive.
Zipping up his bag Punk face Randy, who now on his knees in front of Punk, begging for him to stay.
"I can never forgive you, Randy." He said, walking out of the house.
/End Flashback/
But Punk had forgiven Randy, they had even gone to couple therapy, working things out. After a couple of months Randy had gotten Punk to move back into their home. Everything had returned back to normal mostly. Randy had started acting a bit differently, though. He had started keeping Punk closer, keeping tabs on his more when the touring separated them for more than a day or two. Punk just thought that Randy was glad to have him back and wanted to keep him close, but one day he realized that wasn't the case.
It had happened after a match. And it had changed Punk and Randy's relationship forever.
/Flashback/
Punk and John Cena walked through the hallways of the arena, smiling and excited after their match together had been successful, one of the best Punk had ever had. He always enjoyed working with his best friend. Walking through the halls people congratulated them.
"Hey," Cena said as they walked. "You wanna come watch Randy's match in my dressing room? I know how much it sucks to watch them in those damn locker rooms, and my dressing room had a flat screen." John asked.
"Hell yeah! I could use a comfy couch and a Pepsi after that attitude adjustment." Punk and they laughed. "Just let me grab my bag so I can change."
Punk went to the locker room and got his duffle, throwing on a t-shirt and some jeans over his trunks. He knew there was a Pepsi machine in the hall and would just get one of his beloved drinks from there.
"All good to go." Punk said when he came out to find John standing by the locker room door. They older man help up a Pepsi.
"Got you a present." He flashed a dimpled smile. John was always the dependable friend to have what he needed.
"Awe man, you sure to know the way to a guys heart." Punk laughed and took the drink, walking down the hall to Cena's private dressing room. Once inside he threw his bag into the corner and plopped on the couch, hearing Randy's music hit and getting excited.
"Turn it up! Turn it up!" He shouted as John got the TV adjusted the way Punk liked it when he watched his man wrestle.
Randy came out in full Viper persona, looking as though he was going to attack at any moment. Sitting down next to Punk, John laughed. Randy and Punk were the cutest couple and two of his greatest friends.
As the match went on Punk yelled at the TV and John laughed at him. Punk yelled as though Randy could actually hear him.
"RKO! RKO! RKO!" Getting a little to excited when Randy jumped up with all the grace in the world and landed an RKO, winning the watch. "WHOOO!" Punk lifted his Pepsi when he jumped up, spilling a bunch on himself and John.
"Awe man, come on. That shit is freezing cold." John laughed as Punk looked down at his soiled shirt.
"Well damn." Punk stripped the shirt and went to his bag in the corner, using the shirt to wipe his chest as he walked. He knew to hurry, Randy would be back stage looking for him by now and he wanted to go congratulate him on the match. John stripped off his pepsi soaked shirt as well and went to get one out of his own duffle on the table.
Looking through his shirts Punk was in a dilemma. "Hey, John?"
"Yeah?"
Punk held up two shirts. "Ironman or Batman?"
John laughed at the childish question that had been asked so seriously by a grown man. "Batman dude, definitely Batman."
Throwing the Ironman shirt back in the bag Punk walked forward back to the couch, not putting his shirt on yet. Suddenly the door to the dressing room came open and Randy came in. Punk smiled and jumped up, hugging Randy, but frowning when Randy didn't hug back.
"That was a great match man!" John smiled as he threw his shirt on.
Randy frowned. "Punk get your things. We're leaving."
"But, Randy, don't you wanna hang with John for a bit and celebrate our matches. That was the best RAW we've had in a long time."
"No." Randy grabbed Punk by the arm and grabbed his duffle from the corner, dragging both out of the room. Already having changed into his jeans and shirt, Randy merely took both out to the rental car and threw Punk inside harshly, slamming the door and walking to the drivers side.
Once Randy was inside the car he started it and Punk looked at him, holding his arm that was sure to have bruises from being dragged along so forcefully.
"What the hell was that, Randal?" Punk asked.
"Did you fuck him?" Was Randy's only reply, not even looking at Punk.
"What?"
Now Randy looked at him, blue eyes ready to kill. "Did you fuck him!?" Randy yelled, causing Punk to jump.
"Who!?"
Randy reached over and smacked Punk in the face. Looking back at his boyfriend, holding his cheeks and feeling tears come up Punk didn't know what to do. Randy had never acted like this.
"Did you fuck John!? Nice fucking match you had with him, huh? Sweating and rolling around in the ring. I bet you've been trying to get with him for a while. Thought it would be a nice way to get back at me for fucking Sam huh?"….
/End Flashback/
After that night Randy had demanded that Punk never speak to John on anything other than a professional level. Even after John called and talked to Randy, trying to explain and reassure him nothing had gone on and that the idea they had slept together was insane. Randy would hear none of it. It had been a year since Punk had been able to hang out with John, and it had been 10 months since Randy had made Punk give up the rest of his friends, even the ones he didn't get to see. Kofi, Colt, R-Truth, all of them. Every friend Punk had had was now angry with him, because if Punk refused to stop talking to them, Randy found a way to separate and alienate him from everyone else. Hell, even his good friend and boss Triple H couldn't speak to him anymore. Now Punk stayed to himself at the venues. No one spoke to him and he spoke to no one, he knew the punishment for talking to other people.
Lying in bed now, Punk felt the old bruises on his body begin to fade. He wished he could call someone, tell them what was happening and they could take him away, but Randy had made sure that he could never do that. Punk would never get help. And now that the man lying next to him was the only one who would even speak to him, Punk was afraid to leave. If he left that would mean he really would have no one. Sobbing harder than he realized Punk felt the bed move, then and hand on his throat and a hot body pressed against him back.
"If you don't shut that shit up I will give you something to cry about." Randy gave him throat a harsh squeeze, causing Punks eyes to water, before shoving him away and rolling back over.
Punk stayed quiet for the rest of the night.
/The Next Day/
Punk woke up to and empty bed, like most days. Looking around the plain hotel room he saw the clock, 8 in the morning. The shower was running, so Randy hadn't left. Most mornings were like this, trying to tip toe around Randy. Just as Punk laid his head back down his cell phone rang, which was odd considering no one but Randy called or texted him anymore. Without looking at the caller ID he picked up.
"Hello?" His sleeping laced voice croaked out.
"Punk," Hunters voice came out as though he didn't expect Punk to answer.
"Yes?" Punk wanted so bad to greet his old friend the proper way, but knew it would be a bad idea considering that Randy had come out of the bathroom and was leaning against the wall in nothing but a towel, looking at Punk through narrowed eyes as he spoke on the phone.
Punk's eyes never left where Randy stood.
"Listen, the company is renewing some policies and some of them involve the health of our athletes who signed contracts past a certain date. Since your renewed contract was signed past a that certain date I'm afraid you gotta come get a physical tomorrow at the training center in Florida." Hunter spoke in such a cold cut way it made him flinch. This man used to be warm and kind to him, until Randy made him tell Hunter that the only reason he had befriended him in the company was to better his career. Which wasn't true, Hunter had been one of his best friends because he had understood Punk. But now that was gone.
"Ok, that's no problem." Punk said.
He heard Hunter on the other end of the line sigh and act like he was going to say something, but with another sigh he just said, "See you there, kid." And hung up.
Hanging up the phone Punk and turning to put it on the dresser Punk sighed as he saw Randy come towards him.
"What was that?" Randy asked accusingly.
"Hunter. He said do to company policy changes I have to go out to the Florida training center tomorrow and get another physical." Punk hoped this would satisfy him. But it didn't.
"Hmm, how convenient that I didn't get the call for a physical." Randy came forward, making Punk cower where he sat on the bed.
"H-Hunter said that it's because my renewed contract was signed after the cutoff date for the new policy, but yours was signed before." Punks voice shook, Randy was not in a good mood today. Before they were like this Punk would wake up in Randy's arms and kiss him awake, now Punk was lucky to get past breakfast without crying.
"Isn't that convenient, though? How I have to go out to California for publicity, and suddenly you have to fly all the way across the country to meet with Hunter for a "physical?" Randy scoffed. He pounced on Punk without warning, tackling him back on the bed and grabbing his wrists, pinning them painfully above Punks head.
"Randy, please," Punk pleaded, letting a tear come out. "I didn't know until just now. I don't even know if Hunter is going to be there. I will only be gone a couple days, I sweat. When it's all done I will fly straight to California to be with you." Punk wasn't scheduled for a spot on RAW next week, so he had some time off. WWE liked to give them knows off every once in a while just because doing so many shows at a time could burn someone out, and Punk was getting burnt out. But not from the shows, from being with Randy all the time. The only moments he wasn't with Randy was when he was in the ring, pipe bombing or GTSing someone. It was the only place where he was safe to be himself.
"Yeah right. You're such a fucking whore you know that? Hunter is a married man, Punk. You shouldn't be fucking a married man." Randy spat at him.
"No, Randy, it's not like that. I haven't spoken to Hunter outside of the ring in months." Punk argued.
"You know you belong to me, right?" Randy ground his hips down, the only thing separating his erection from Punk thigh was the sheet covering Punk, the towel had fallen off when Randy had pounced on him. "You know that I don't like sharing the things I own."
Randy ripped the sheet off of Punk and looked down at his body, giving a smirk when his eyes came across the bruising just below his chest tattoo. "Apparently I need to remind you what happens when you stray away from me, dog." Randy got up and pulled Punk with him by the hair. Letting out a yell of pain Punk fell to the floor. Without any time to catch himself or know what was happening, foot came down on his ribs hard, causing him to gasp in pain and his eyes to water.
"Randy please!" Punk begged.
The only reply Randy gave was more kicks to Punk stomach. Once he was sick of the he walked to his bag, grabbing something out. Punk couldn't see what it was through the tears blurring his vision, but he knew it couldn't be good. Seeing Randy's hand raise up Punk tensed up, letting out a whimper when the leather belt came down on his back. Randy kept going until Punk body had red whelps all over it, smiling at his work. Punk didn't know what to do. Sure Randy had thrown him around and given him some hits before, but he had never full on beaten Punk, he knew better because it would be noticeable in the ring. Usually his injuries would go away after a few days, or he could cover them up with some concealer, or explain them away to anyone who asked. Fortunately for Punk no one really cares if he showed up with a black eyes or busted lip anymore. They just didn't care.
One Randy was done with his assault, punching Punk a few times for good measure, Randy lifted the smaller man up and threw him on the bed stomach first. Punk didn't move, knowing what was going to happen. Without warning Randy opened him up and slammed into his hole dry and unprepared. Punk screamed into the pillow. Usually Randy at least bothers with spitting into his hand or sometimes using a little lube, but he had never used Punks body while he was still dry. The stinging pain was to much and Punk tried to crawl away, but all that got him was a harsh smack to his already abused back. Deciding that fighting back was a back idea, Punk just let Randy abuse his body, feeling the sweat drip down his body. Eventually Punk could tell that Randy's strokes were getting more smooth from the blood that must be coating Randy's dick. It still felt like his body was being ripped in half, however.
After a few minutes of thrusting into Punk Randy let out a groan as he came in Punks ass once again, staying in place for a few moments before pulling out. Punk cried silently and Randy stood, staying in his place stomach down on the bed, face turned and eyes fixed blankly on the wall.
"Now that's a way to start a morning. Looks like I'm gonna have to wash the fucking whore off of me again though." Randy said as he picked up his towel and walked back towards the bathroom, stopping before he went in and looking in Punks direction. "If you know what's good for you, you will be packed up and on that plane to Florida before I get out." With that he went into the bathroom and slammed the door. That warning meant Punk had about 20 minutes to get the fuck out of there.
Wincing at the searing pain that shot through his ass when he moved, Punk got up and grabbed his bag from the hotel room chair. He began stuffing all of his things inside, only stopping to grab clothes that looked like they would make a passable outfit. Once packed Punk grabbed tissue from the box on the night stand and wiped the come from his thighs and between his ass cheeks, gasping as the tissue ripped at his hole even more when it made contact. Taking away the material Punk saw red. More than he thought had been there before. Looking at the bed Punk saw that the white sheets were stained with blood. This couldn't go on, Punk couldn't live like this anymore.
Getting dressed he grabbed his things and left. Maybe he wouldn't meet with Randy in California after all.
/The next day/
Punk shut his hotel room door. He had enjoyed his first afternoon in Florida after he had left Randy yesterday. The plane ride had been short considering he and Randy had only been in Texas. Punks cab was waiting for him, the ride wouldn't be short considering he chose the hotel closest to the training center. The lovely morning Florida sun was shining down and mad the man relax, remembering his only worry in the world was completely across the country right now.
Punks phone vibrated. Speaking of the devil.
Where are you?-Randy
Sighing, Punk texted back.
In a cab on the way to the training center.
His phone vibrated again less than a minute later.
You better be here the day after tomorrow. No speaking to Hunter or Cena. I WILL find out.
Punk didn't dignify that with a reply, just shoved his phone in his pocket as they pulled up the training center. Grabbing his backpack and stepping out of the cab Punk looked around. The parking lot was completely empty, it didn't look like anyone was even there. Oh well, must be because it's early in the morning on a Wednesday. Securing his backpack full of gym clothes on his shoulder, wincing when it scraped one of the red welts on his back, Punk walked into the building. Looking around Punk slowed to a stop, the lights were off, and there were no secretaries or employees at the desk up front.
Making his way past the desk and through the hall, looking through the glass walls and into the gym rooms and weight rooms Punk still saw no one. This was getting weird. He considered calling Hunter to see if they had forgotten about him, which was likely. Hopefully this was just a physical strength checkup and not a full body. WWE did both, bringing in doctors to check their physical health, and trainer to check strength and stamina to make sure they could make it for long periods in the ring. Walking through the gym door Punk noticed a light on in a room in the back corner, the door open. He even heard a few voices.
"Hello?" He called, the voices stopped, but no one came out. "Hello?"
Punk walked to the door with caution, considering not going in at all, but decided that if this was the physical he didn't want to get in trouble for missing it, not from his bosses but from Randy if Punk had to leave a second time for the same physical.
Going into the room Punk stopped dead in his tracks. Eyes and heads turned to him. Looking at Punk were all the people he used to call his friends.
Kofi, Hunter, Stephanie, Truth, the Bella twins (which pained him immensely to alienate himself from since they helped him through the process of first dealing with the fact that he was gay), Daniel Bryan, and most of all John Cena. John stood front and center, closest to Punk. After a moment Punk noticed a few more bodies in the room, Seth Rollins and the Uso's.
"What the hell is going on?" Punk asked, this obviously was no physical training.
After a moment of silence John spoke. "Phil, we want to help you."
Alright guys, that he end of the first chapter. Let me know what you think. This kind of story is different for me to I need to know what I'm doing right and wrong to that I know how to improve in the future.