((Author's Note: This story is inspired by a myriad of events within the events of the movie Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, including the scene in which Alex mentions not being able to handle half the things that were thrown at him, his intensely protective nature of Bethany, and his offering himself to Van Pelt in place of Bethany, an offer that Van Pelt actually seems to consider. There has to have been more that happened in the time that he was in the video game prior to meeting up with the rest of the characters. WARNING! This story has intense, graphic descriptions of non-consensual male on male action. If this makes you squirm uncomfortably, please leave now. However, if, like me, you enjoy indulging your sadistic nature on beautiful fictional men, feel free to continue forward. Enjoy!))
Alex couldn't determine just how long he had been in the game. It felt like years, but in reality, at least from what he had been able to calculate, it had only been a matter of months. It was difficult to even calculate the passage of time, however, especially with the lack of anything with which to measure time. There were no watches, no calendars, nothing. He had long since lost the ability to determine the number of days that passed based on the day and night cycles, partially because he had been through so many of them in various situations, many of which he had nothing with which to track the cycles, and partially because when the weather changed in Jumanji, there was no way to determine what was day and what was night.
At first, he had been brave. He had gone exploring, attempted to determine where exactly he was and what he needed to do to escape. Waking up in someone else's body had certainly been a shocker, but it had been one he had needed to handle very quickly. Determining that he was in a video game, something that had been achieved thanks to Nigel's addressing him as the character's name, had been a bit more difficult to handle; as he knew that he needed to find a way out. As many video games that he played, there were few that he actually managed to complete, either due to lack of interest or difficulty of the game.
He had no idea exactly how he had managed to make his way into the bazar, but he knew that luck had played no small part in it. The map that Nigel had given him had been blank; so he had had to simply start walking. He had chosen to follow the direction in which Nigel had driven, believing that the guide had to be making his way back to civilization. Amazingly, he had been correct in his assessment; although he had certainly not escaped without facing his share of dangerous animals. Jumanji seemed to house a host of animals similar to those that he knew but much bigger and with much more lethal features and abilities.
The bazar had been his first encounter with who he could only assume were Van Pelt's men. The militaristic group seemed characteristic of being associated with the villain of a video game. After satiating the starvation he had not realized was gripping him until he had heard mention of food, he had noticed a group of men appearing combat-ready intimidating several of the shopkeepers. Apparently, they had noticed him, too. When the shooting had erupted, he had run. Incredibly, around a nearby corner, he had discovered a sewer drain, into which he had climbed and simply held his breath. The men were thankfully just as oblivious as he had expected of henchmen in a video game, and after releasing his breath, he had continued deeper into the empty drain.
He had relied again heavily on luck and possibly partially on his knowledge of video games to navigate through the drain without succumbing to its multiple traps. When he had emerged into the forest, he couldn't say that it had really surprised him, not with everything else that the game had thrown at him up to this point. He had been exceptionally grateful to find the already assembled hut, though, and had quickly set up refuge. Having discovered his weakness of mosquitos when he had discovered his trait display screen on his trek to the bazar, he had hesitantly returned to the bazar and, upon realizing that Van Pelt's men were gone, had retrieved food, citronella candles, and margarita ingredients, margarita-making being a strength he had also discovered from his trait display screen.
That was when things had really become difficult. When he had attempted to venture out again, he had found the transportation shed. Once he had managed to sneak inside, he had found several modes of transportation. Being a pilot, he believed that the game would allow him through based on his piloting skills. So his first choice had been a hot air balloon, believing that it would be the least conspicuous of the options. It, however, had never even lifted off the ground. While he had been attempting to launch it, somehow, Van Pelt's men, who had been guarding the shed, had been alerted to his presence and had entered the shed. They had opened fire without question, and between being trapped in a wicker basket and having no defense of his own, he had immediately succumbed to his wounds. He had respawned in the same general area, but with Van Pelt's men still being inside the shed, he had easily been able to escape back to his hut.
His second attempt had not ended so well. He had found solace in his margaritas when he had returned to his camp, but he had eventually decided to travel back to the shed. The disappearance of a black tally mark from the tattoo on his arm had implied that it was a life count; so he had known that he had to be more careful this time around. After gathering all of his citronella candles and some more he had picked up from the bazar, he had returned to the shed and remained hidden until the guards finally left, a feat he believed had been a total of about three weeks. Once he was sure that he would not risk observation, he had made his way inside and, this time, chosen the airplane. His character being a pilot, he had believed that it was the perfect transportation. It had to be.
He had been wrong. Within minutes, he had been tailed; and after evading what he could, he had finally succumbed to the shots of the fighter jets pursuing him. This time, however, his respawn had not gone unnoticed. Although he could not figure out how a video game had determined where and even that he would respawn, Van Pelt's men had been waiting for him. As soon as he had hit the ground, he had become keenly aware of the myriad of guns cocking and being trained directly on him from a group of Van Pelt's men, slowly encircling him. Without any hope of escape, he had put his hands up and surrendered.
He currently found himself suffering what he could only assume would be the significant consequences of his decision. With only one life left, he had chosen to do whatever it took to survive. They had not immediately killed him; so that was a good indication that he was wanted or needed alive. However, it did little to alleviate his anxiety as to his future in Jumanji. He had been led for some time at gunpoint toward an unknown destination, but he finally saw a campsite forming along the nearby horizon. Their current route implied that that was the final destination.
They arrived at the campsite in a matter of minutes, and he was immediately flanked by two of the men who had been standing behind him. Each one grabbed one of his arms, forcibly led him to a nearby tent, and then threw him inside the front flap. A hand on the back of his jacket collar pulling him up only briefly afforded him the opportunity to observe a woman sitting on a stump on the other end of the tent before he was roughly turned around, his own hands making their way to the fists that dug into the fabric of his clothing, attempting to release himself from the inhuman grip. He found himself face to face with a sinister man who wore a sneer and glared at him with a supernatural glowing green eye. Leave it to a video game, he thought wryly, attempting to quell the rising panic. He knew that this man had to be Van Pelt himself, the man Nigel spoke of as having been corrupted by the jewel. Suddenly, a centipede crawled out of the man's ear and down his neck, pulling an involuntary shudder out of Alex's body. The man seemed pleased with the reaction and pulled Alex even closer, his earthy breath an unpleasant sensation against Alex's face.
"Seaplane," the man ground out with a sneer. Alex craned his neck backward against the face invading his personal space, his hands still attached to the fists ground deeply into his jacket collar in a vain attempt to remove them that had been aborted the moment the man spoke. "Where is the jewel?"
"I don't know!" Alex spat, renewing his escape efforts. If nothing else, he sought to separate himself from the uncomfortable closeness of his own body with the putrid man who currently restrained him. "I don't have it!"
"You're lying." It wasn't a question but rather a statement. Suddenly. Alex found himself thrown hard against the middle of the back wall. Even the man's strength was superhuman. Having already closed his eyes in anticipation of the pain, as Alex groaned and slid to the floor, holding onto his ribs, he realized that he should have expected no less of the game's main villain. "Perhaps you'll reconsider… in time." With that, Van Pelt vanished through the tent flap without a glance backward, his men immediately following.
Alex continued groaning for a moment, his eyes still screwed shut against the pain. He let his body slide sideways to the floor and then rolled onto his back, attempting to escape any level of the pain that assaulted his body. His hand moved to cover his ribs, and he finally opened his eyes, turning his groans into pained gasps and staring at the ceiling to find some kind of distraction. When the pain finally subsided enough for him to quiet and feel comfortable moving again, Alex grit his teeth, rolled onto his stomach, and pushed himself up onto his knees and one arm, the other shielding his ribs from any further damage.
The first thing that he noticed when he lifted his head and attempted to focus his pain-blurred vision around the room was the woman he had first seen still sitting in the same position on the stump. Her curious gaze held his for a mere second before she focused her attention on the portion of the dirt floor that sat in front of her, her body leaned forward heavily, her arms resting on her knees, and her wrists crossed over one another where they met in front of her. She seemed entirely uninterested in him, yet if she was here with him, then, he surmised, she must also be Van Pelt's prisoner. At any rate, she was his best chance at escape at the moment. He slowly forced his body to stand, everything tensing against the pain that the action caused. His physical energy nearly depleted by the time he finally completed the simple task, he placed his free hand against the nearest wall, leaned against it, and ground out, "Hello."
The woman looked up only a moment, a look of boredom still written across her face, before immediately returning her attention to the ground beneath her. "Hi," she replied simply.
Alex surveyed the surroundings. It was an extremely small, simple hut. There was the stump on which the woman was sitting, which seemed to be embedded into the ground; and there were two sleeping cots with simple blankets placed on top, each placed diagonally from one another in exact opposite corners of the tent. Doubling over and resting his free hand on his knee, he decided to try to obtain any information he could about his current situation. "Are you part of the video game, too?" If she was a pre-programmed character, she would only have a pre-programmed set of responses; but the worst that she could do is ignore him entirely.
Instead, the woman slowly turned her head to focus her gaze on the new prisoner. "What?" she asked.
Alex, sighed, dropping his head in defeat. "Nevermind," he retorted, bringing his head back up to start scanning for any chance of escape.
"No, what did you say?" the woman insisted, turning to face him further, emerald green eyes searching his face for something he could not even begin to fathom.
He sighed irritatedly, loathe to waste any time that he had before Van Pelt returned. "I asked if you were part of the game," he reiterated, quickly returning his focus to his attempt to find an escape.
"You're real?"
Alex immediately brought his attention back to the woman when he heard her question. He searched her face, he himself apprehensive at accepting what the question meant. "Yes," he responded slowly.
She immediately jumped up and made her way over to him, her simple long blue dress trailing slightly behind her as she quick-stepped over to him. As soon as she reached him, she wrapped her arm around him and assisting him over to the stump so that he could sit. He saw worry etched in her face when she knelt down next to him, although he maintained his uneasiness. She gingerly lifted his shirt, distracted momentarily by the assessment of his physical condition. However, she still managed to explain the situation. "I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, reaching forward to lightly press against a particularly tender bruise on his ribs and wincing when he hissed in response. "I haven't seen anyone real here in so long that I did not believe it would ever be possible. I stopped getting my hopes up just to protect myself. I didn't mean to offend you." She released his shirt and shifted her weight onto both of her knees, placing her hands on them. "They really did a number on you, didn't they?" she spoke softly, eyes offering sincere sympathy.
Alex winced again as he pulled his arm away from his ribs and placed both hands on his knees. "Yeah," he hissed, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth again. When the pain from changing position passed, he slowly leaned forward, assuming nearly the same position she had had when she had been sitting on the stump and turning to focus his full attention on her. "Who are you?"
"Oh! Duh." She bounced her palm against her forehead. "I'm so sorry. I got caught up. I'm still amazed that you're even real. I can't believe it." She breathed the last statement almost reverently. Shaking her head, she continued. "My name is Lilliana."
Alex eyed her hand warily, but she had extended it very close to his own so that he would not have to exert himself at all. Her smile certainly seemed genuine. Deciding to take his chances, he shook her hand gently. "I'm Alex."
Lilliana's face scrunched up in confusion. "So why did Van Pelt call you Seaplane? That's why I thought you were just another character."
Alex's expression changed to match hers. "I am a character: Seaplane Mcdonough," he stated, brows furrowing. "I picked a character and got sucked into the game. Isn't that how you ended up here?"
Lilliana tilted her head, and her eyebrows furrowed. "No," she replied slowly. "I was simply sucked into the game. I was taking a walk on the beach late one night. I suddenly saw this green light, and then I remember nothing until I ended up in this game. I didn't even know it was a game at first. It took my first death to realize what was going on."
Alex had noticed her wrist when she had spread her arms while discussing how she had ended up here, her three quarter length sleeve easily displaying it. "You only have one life," he breathed.
She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, Van Pelt's men have already killed me once. I've really advanced, haven't I?"
Alex allowed himself to join her in a light chuckle, but then another thought struck him. "Once?"
Lilliana grimaced. "When I first arrived, I had a rather unpleasant encounter with the wildlife."
Again, Alex's expression changed to mirror hers. "I was fortunate with that, but they're pretty deadly around here."
After a moment of silence, Lilliana spoke again. "And you?" She nodded her head toward his arm.
Alex nodded and rolled the sleeves of his jacket and his shirt up to reveal the same single horizontal black line. "Same," he sighed, reminded again just how close he was to certain death. A sadness filled his eyes, and he cast them down to the floor first and then toward the wall in front of him, anywhere but hers. "I'm apparently not quite as skilled a pilot as the game made me believe. I was trying to get across a canyon. The first time, my hot air balloon didn't even lift off. The second time, my plane was shot down. When I came back, they were waiting for me. That's how I found myself here." He ended the explanation with a shrug, effectively hiding the terror that he felt in the current situation.
Lilliana remained quiet for a moment but eventually stated, "For what it's worth, although I am sorry you ended up here, I'm glad to have the company."
Alex lifted his head to meet her radiant smile and attempted to muster one of his own, although he knew that it must look much weaker. "Yeah." He dropped his head between his knees but almost immediately brought it back up. "Me, too." The smile that crossed his face this time was much more genuine.
Suddenly, the tent opened again; and both focused their attention on the evil incarnate that strolled through the flap, followed by four goons. Lilliana's expression immediately changed to one of rage, and she sat up on her knees and wrapped a protective arm around Alex, resting the other hand on his chest. If she noticed Alex's trembling, she made no indication; and Alex was ashamed that his own expression betrayed the anxious fear he felt in every fiber of his being. Luckily for him, Lilliana spoke for them both. "What do you want?" she demanded, voice strong and unwavering.
Van Pelt snapped his fingers, and Alex felt the arms leave his body. Alarmed and desperate for the only protection afforded him up to this point, he whirled around and allowed his wide eyes to scan the room. They immediately fell on Lilliana, whose hands were being bound behind her back by the two men who had so violently ripped her away from him. Ignoring his own pain, he stood and reached out for her but was stopped by a hand wrapped around his waist. His body instantly attempted to defend itself, hands scrabbling at the strong arm locked around his waist and legs kicking at empty air just to attempt throw off the hold so that he could escape. All struggles instantly ceased, however, when he felt a long blade pressed to his neck. Chest heaving with exertion, he instantly stilled, his hands still pressed against the arm wrapped around his waist. His eyes immediately settled on Lilliana, who had now been forced to her knees by the two men and was held in place by two hands on each shoulder. All concern transferred to her for only a moment, until the knife was pressed more sharply into his neck, drawing a thin trickle of blood.
"Alex!" The scream came from Lilliana, who was still struggling to shrug off the arms that held her in place. A sharp blow to the back of her head, however, stunned her and would have sent her body reeling forward were it not for her physical restraint.
Alex's heart raced, unsure what to expect. He immediately feared for Lilliana when he saw her hit, but once again, his attention was drawn back to himself when he felt hot breath against his ear. It was Van Pelt. "Have you reconsidered yet?"
The sliminess of the voice almost seemed to crawl inside Alex, and he could not suppress the involuntary shudder. "I told you! I—I don't have it." He silently cursed himself for the unsteadiness of his voice.
Van Pelt laughed in Alex's ear, eliciting another shudder and even an attempt to crane his neck against the voice, an action that only caused the knife to slice deeper into his neck. "I am so glad to hear that. See, I have been working on new ways to obtain the information that I want; and as it seems that our dear girl here has already taken an interest in you, this is going to be even easier than I originally anticipated."
With that statement, Alex felt a nearly imperceptible nod by Van Pelt; and the guards gracelessly moved Lilliana over to the stump, tying off the rope that bound her wrists around the large base, giving her absolutely no room for movement. Alex locked eyes with her when she lifted her head, even as the two men gripped each of his arms and pulled him back against the wall. Van Pelt's arm slithered away from his stomach, but somehow, Alex felt no more comfortable. When Van Pelt blocked his view to Lilliana, he, in fact, felt even more anxious. The malevolent look in Van Pelt's eye and the predatory manner in which he approached Alex made Alex feel more vulnerable than he had in his entire time within the game and caused him to shift uncomfortably.
By the time that Van Pelt finally reached Alex, Alex was trembling fearfully and shrinking back as far as he could into the wall against which he was held, struggling to even attempt to still his rapid heart rate and matching breath. When Van Pelt quickly and confidently brought his knife up to Alex's chest, a wicked smile sprawled across his face, Alex yelped, jumped, and closed his eyes, turning his head away from the inevitable damage. The torture he expected, however, never came. Instead, the knife sliced through the top button of his shirt. Somehow even more alarmed at this action than at the act of causing physical pain, Alex's eyes snapped open; and he focused on the knife blade, fighting even harder to still his exceptionally shallow breathing as the blade continued through each subsequent button of his shirt.
When the last button was sliced, Alex saw Van Pelt's eye glaze over almost appreciatively. Suddenly, the man's fingers were trailing up his stomach. Instinctively, Alex sucked his stomach in, shrinking away from the vile touch. "What—" he swallowed, "what are you doing?"
"So beautiful," Van Pelt murmured, not taking his eyes away from the spot that his fingers had been touching but also not advancing forward to regain contact with the sun-tanned skin of the taut and still shaking stomach.
"Russel!" The despondent scream distracted Van Pelt and, much to Alex's relief, allowed him to relax a bit when Van Pelt turned his attention behind him. The scream had been wrenched from Lilliana's throat. The blood on her wrists indicated just how violently she had been struggling against her bonds, and she had actually managed to make it to an upright position on her knees. The curly red locks of the hair that reached the center of her back hung loosely in her face, but it was the rage in her eyes that most unnerved Alex, even in the situation in which they found themselves presently. "Why are you doing this?' She set her lips firmly, awaiting response.
Van Pelt considered her a moment but then simply chuckled, returning his attention to Alex. The older man pressed his body against the younger, effectively pinning the young man to the wall, and almost gently traced a finger along the jawline of the head that stared at the floor to the side, eliciting a whimper from the boy. "Because," Van Pelt answered, allowing hot breath to trace over Alex's cheek, "I always get what I want."
"Leave him alone!" Lilliana's struggles and irate screams continued, but they were no longer of any consequence.
Alex wriggled beneath Alex's body, attempting somehow to dislodge him; but the man stayed strongly attached. Suddenly, Alex felt lips on his own; as a gentle hand caressed his entire naked torso, reaching beneath both shirt and jacket to trace the small of his back. When Alex screeched in surprise, Van Pelt took the opportunity to force his tongue into the resistant mouth, taking his time to carefully explore every crevice. Alex once again whimpered at the onslaught and suddenly felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. He was powerless to stop them from falling in this situation, and they coated his cheeks, accompanied by his own quiet sobbing against the mouth attached to his own.
When Van Pelt finally pulled away for breath, Alex gasped to regain his own but managed between his struggles for air, "Why—why are you doing this?" Another gulp of air. "Please stop." He didn't care that he was begging. He could withstand physical pain, especially since his entry to the Jumanji game. This, however, was not something that he believed he could survive.
Van Pelt only laughed. When he drove his clothed groin into Alex's, he earned a screaming sob. "I told you," he stated, placing his hand on the back of Alex's head and bringing his own mouth close to Alex's ear. "I always get what I want." Releasing the boy and ignoring his short, terrified gasps, Van Pelt coldly repeated his previous statement. "Where is the jewel?"
Alex cried out desperately, "I told you I don't have it!"
Van Pelt brought his mouth close to Alex's ear again, gripping his shoulder firmly. "I don't believe you." With that statement, he reached his hand down between Alex's legs and relished in the strangled sob he received from the boy.
Alex couldn't help his reactions. Van Pelt's hand on his flaccid member, even through clothing, wrenched the most pitiful sound he had ever heard in his entire life from his very own throat. Up until this point, he had believe that he could outlast Van Pelt; but as the calloused hand continued its exploration of his manhood, for the first time, his determination to remain living wavered.
Van Pelt removed his other hand from Alex's shoulder only to wrap it around the lean body and squeeze the buttocks. The action earned him another surprised yelp, a reaction at which he grinned. In response to Van Pelt's snapping his fingers, the men restraining Alex forced him to his knees and finally to his back, their hands restraining his arms the entire time.
Alex started screaming when he felt himself being dragged down to the floor. He did not care about dignity anymore. He simply needed to escape this situation. Lilliana's own screams joined his, yet nothing changed. On his back he felt even more vulnerable, a feeling amplified tenfold when Van Pelt lowered his own body to straddle Alex's hips, effectively rendering his legs useless. With his arms pinned outstretched from his body, Alex felt like a toy displayed for Van Pelt's pleasure and dejectedly realized that he was not far from the truth. Lilliana's objections and spewed obscenities fell to the background of his mind. Time seemed to slow, and Alex became aware only of himself and of the man above him leering down, rubbing dirty hands all over his torso and back, sneaking just below his waistband only to return to their earlier ministrations. Teeth nipped at his neck and chest, light sucking that might otherwise have been enjoyable bringing goosebumps to Alex's flesh. The unexpectedly soft mouth moved down Alex's chest and latched onto one of his nipples, drawing a gasp from the young man. While the tongue began its assault, rough fingers turned their attention to the other nipple: pinching, twisting, flicking, rubbing. The actions provoked a series of hisses and moans from Alex, though he himself was growing further and further from the situation, almost floating above the physical body trapped in this nightmare. All sensations were beginning to fade.
Alex was slammed very quickly back into his body, however, when a hand finally slipped fully beneath his pants. A loud gasp ripped its way out of Alex's throat before he had even had a chance to fully assess the situation, and one look at the grin that spread upon Van Pelt's face told Alex that it had been exactly the reaction for which the man had been looking. Alex realized with mounting desperation that his belt and button and zipper had all been undone, though his pants remained in place around his waist at the moment. Van Pelt had slid himself a bit lower on Alex's body to rest on the boy's thighs and had stretched the rest of his body over Alex's, resting on a forearm placed on the ground next to Alex's face. The hand that Alex felt had slid behind him and down his pants and was now playing with the slit between his cheeks, quickly sliding closer to his most intimate spot.
"No!" Alex breathed, bucking against the weight holding him in place in an effort to escape the invading digit. "No!" This scream was much louder, matching the rising intensity of his horror. His protests, however, went unheeded.
"Alex!" This scream came from somewhere much further than Alex's immediate vicinity and was female, and his attention diverted from his current predicament for only a moment. He had all but forgotten about Lilliana's presence, but when he lifted his head and locked eyes with her, he felt revitalized, if only a little. He knew that he needed to live, if for no other reason than for her. Sweat covered her face, and her chest heaved in exertion from her escape efforts. Blood covered her arms and the ground around her, dripping from chafed wrists. She looked just as bad as he did. Her full attention, however, was devoted to him. The rage in her eyes burned into Van Pelt's back and promised lethal retribution for his actions. Alex had to survive, for her; and he had to try to spare her the pain that he was experiencing.
His attention was forced back to his own body when he heard a strangled cry that he barely recognized as having come from him. One large finger had breached the firm ring of muscle that served as entrance to his virgin canal. It probed against the soft flesh inside and pushed deeper, causing Alex to clench and cry out again. Eyes screwed shut and teeth ground together, Alex squirmed uncomfortably beneath Van Pelt, moving any direction he could to attempt to escape the violating intrusion. Nothing, however, brought relief; and the uncomfortable burn suddenly turned into an entire fire when a second finger joined the intrusion.
His strength faltered, and he could no longer attempt to suppress his pain, even to protect Lilliana. "God, stop! Please stop!" he begged, tears stinging his eyes as he continued his futile struggle.
Van Pelt laughed darkly and brought his head closer to Alex's ear and licking the lobe before speaking. Alex tried to move his head closer to his shoulder to protect at least some part of his body, but even that failed. "Seaplane," Van Pelt breathed, "I have not even started." The threat was true. In his current position, Van Pelt had terrible leverage and was not able to push very far into Alex at all.
Van Pelt decided to change that. Quickly withdrawing his fingers and earning a pained groan as the clenched muscle closed with a wet pop. Van Pelt wasted no time in moving the pants and boxers still resting on Alex's legs and waist down to his ankles, avoiding the surprisingly powerful legs that kicked out in protest. Once Van Pelt was finished, he quickly moved between Alex's legs, stretching them apart to fully expose him. Breathless, he admired the beauty that lay before him: the toned thighs, the generous (although still flaccid) endowment, and the pink and slightly irritated hole just inviting him to enter again.
Alex whimpered. "Don't—don't do this. Just get off me."
Pressing a bruising kiss to Alex's lips, Van Pelt removed his own belt and pushed his pants down to his knees, ignoring the petrified expression that glued itself to Alex's face when he heard the zipper. "There is not a chance of that," Van Pelt explained. Nodding toward Lilliana, he continued, "Short of that fiery redhead over there, you are the most beautiful thing that has walked into Jumanji in some time. I know that you have the jewel. I will make you a trade: your virginity for the jewel." He ground his now unclothed and throbbing erection into Alex's cock.
Alex's breath came in hiccupped sobs, terror overtaking every other sense. He barely comprehended Van Pelt's words but became even more alarmed once they registered. "No!" he exclaimed, head rocking from side to side in despair. It was nearly the only physical movement that he could make. "Please, no! I don't have it! Just stop!"
Van Pelt slid another finger into Alex's hole and waited only a moment before inserting his second, ignoring the strangled sob the pilot emitted and beginning to scissor the hole to stretch it in preparation. "Then you have made your bargain." He smiled wickedly, fighting the strained muscle ring to make room for a much larger intrusion. He didn't want to hurt the boy beyond repair, as he had intention of repeating the violation; but he was growing impatient.
Alex moaned loudly as the fingers slid far deeper into him than they had been before, attempting to stretch his unrelenting hole. He tried to will himself to relax, as the impending attack became more and more inevitable. He wished to avoid as much pain as possible. His body, however, refused to cooperate. His unyielding passage remained tightly wrapped around Van Pelt's fingers, and when Van Pelt forced in a third, Alex released another strangled cry, in more pain than he could ever have imagined possible. Slowly. Van Pelt continued stretching the passage; and much to Alex's mortification, he felt himself loosening ever so slightly.
Van Pelt must have felt it, too. Within moments, Van Pelt's fingers were removed; and the girth of something much bigger was pressing against him, demanding entrance to his body. Alex choked on a protesting yell, but it was of no use. Before he could react, Van Pelt was slowly pressing his considerable member into Alex; and Alex's mouth opened in a wordlessly scream, face scrunched up in excruciating pain. He had thought that he could stand physical pain, but this was far beyond anything he could ever have even considered. White spots danced before his eyes. He wanted so badly to submit to the darkness that loomed over his mind, but it was just out of reach. Finally, he found his voice. "No! Oh, fuck! Please stop! God it hurts! It hurts so much!"
Alex barely acknowledged the renewed strength of Lilliana's screams and struggles. He could not draw his mind from the fiery fullness he felt in his ass. His eyes were once again screwed shut, unable to face the humiliation. Van Pelt groaned against his tightness, and although Alex continued trying to relax, all he managed to do was continually clench his muscle, an act that seemed to have a very positive effect on Van Pelt. Alex sobbed at every thrust, softly muttering his protestations but becoming weaker and more hopeless by the second. Every thrust tore a new piece of his soul away. Alex prayed for nothing more than this attack to be over. He felt a sticky substance within his channel and knew immediately that the torn muscle still providing a fairly strong resistance had given way to the attack and left the weakened channel prey to damage, explaining what he instinctively understood was blood.
Alex attempted to shut down his mind, to return to that earlier ethereal state; but the pain was far too strong. Even attempting to physically resist by moving his body away from the attack intensified it so much more. He had no choice but to lay there and accept the violation, often letting out strangled sobs and moans at particularly painful thrusts. He felt Van Pelt's hands roam his body again, settling on his hips as the man forced his body to respond. Van Pelt had first moved his legs so that his ankles rested on the military leader's shoulders before strong fingers drove painfully into his bony hips, driving his body deeper against Van Pelt's. Alex felt the Van Pelt strike a particularly electric location within his body and screamed. Although the pain well overrode any other sensation, Alex was horrified to discover that it had actually felt pleasurable. He, fortunately, had little time to deliberate the sensation within his mind before Alex's breathing intensified and he began grunting, a sure sign of his impending release. Just as predicted, Van Pelt stiffened above Alex only a moment later before spilling his hot, salty seed inside Alex's tortured passage and pulling out, leaving Alex convulsing and sobbing in pain.
"This has been pleasant, Seaplane," Van Pelt stated in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I hope to experience it again." He snapped his fingers again, and the men released Alex.
Alex could do nothing more than turn onto his side, draw his knees up to his chest, and wrap his arms around them, his quiet sobs refusing to subside.
Van Pelt then made his way over to Lilliana, who had fallen incredibly silent and hung her head to stare at the floor, seemingly in shock. As soon as she was released, however, her head immediately shot up and spat in Van Pelt's face. Van Pelt calmly wiped the saliva away and then, without reaction, backhanded her as hard as he could, sending her sprawling to the floor. After, he stood and strode out of the tent, his men following closely behind him.
Lilliana ignored the pain in her wrists and immediately made her way over to Alex, gingerly pulling his pants up, buttoning the, and redoing his belt. Her initial efforts were met with very weak efforts, which alarmed her; but when hazy brown eyes met her own deeply concerned green orbs, he ceased his struggles and allowed her to redress him as best as she could. After she was finished, although his shirt still hung open, she sat on the floor and pulled him into her lap facing him, protecting his exposed torso.
Alex's initial alarm at the hands that touched him after Van Pelt left immediately deflated when he realized that the touch was that of Lilliana's and that she was tending to him. He allowed her to redress him and then felt her pull him into his lap. Although he initially tensed, he suddenly burst into tears and grabbed the back of her shirt, sobbing into her chest like a child.
Lilliana's heart broke as Alex released the anguish he felt from his attack, but she swallowed down her own sorrow and held him close, rubbing his back and stroking his hair, listening to his gasping sobs slowly grow weaker and weaker, giving way to a steadier breathing rate that indicated he was succumbing to the exhaustion of sleep. His hands, however, remained tangled tightly in her clothing, clinging for dear life. Aware that she would not be moving positions for the night and with concern only for Alex's well-being, Lilliana tightened her protective embrace on Alex and laid her head upon his, eventually falling into an uneasy slumber.