It was pretty much unanimous (and I kind of wanted it too), so starting today there will be a chapter/interlude every day until the fic is completely published! But since this chapter is kind of intense, I am putting out a second today in case people choose to heed the warning below and skip it.
I think that if needed this chapter can be skipped all together. It just really lets you get a look at just how fucked up poor alternate world Aleks is for this storyline. It kind of hurt to write it actually. This stuff will be mentioned in other chapters even if you choose to skip this particular one. But the warning below will explain exactly why this one is so bad.
This chapter has some intense and graphic things in it; mostly of the sexual nature. I'm not condoning anything that happens in this chapter, but it is important to the story line. So this is your warning. Don't read it if you can't handle it, because that is pretty much what the whole chapter is.
TW: Rape/Non-Con Sex & (Mostly Implied) Mental/Physical Abuse; Self Deprecation (is self deprecation something that needs a trigger warning? Because it is getting one!).
Chapter 5: Gaia – Part 2
"PAIN, n. An uncomfortable frame of mind that may have a physical basis in something that is being done to the body, or may be purely mental, caused by the good fortune of another." – Ambrose Bierce
It hurt. Some would say that it was a pleasant pain. But to Aleksandr it only further reminded him of his captivity, just as the chains on his wrists reminded him he couldn't leave. He was helpless in his own skin. No one could ever love an orphaned gypsy boy from Rosía, not real love anyway. False love, however…well, the man who had his dick up Aleksandr's ass right now could tell you all about it.
Yes, false love was a common thing. In Aleksandr's case it was nothing short of rape. But no one is ever willing enough to question it when the man who is the rapist is also the army's high commander's second hand man and best friend, Vice Commander Aesop Megalos. No one cares about the age gap either; his very young age of nineteen compared to Megalos' old as fuck fifty-three.
Nothing more than a play thing is what Aleksandr is to the man; a source of pleasure and release in a time of war and stress. Aleksandr doesn't like getting stuffed into a small box when they have to move the camp's location. But he dislikes having a cock shoved up his ass even more.
Of course, Megalos isn't one for just the simple kind of sex either. He has kinks that he forces on the poor boy. But he doesn't care about him. Aleksandr knows this. He is lucky to get fed properly, especially since most of the rations are for the soldiers who fight in the war.
Being on the front lines is daunting and scary. Being alone in such a situation is even scarier. Remembering that your "master" said he was going to punish you when he returns while you are in that situation is enough to make you shit yourself, which Aleksandr has done on a few occasions, but it wasn't entirely his fault and it was embarrassing as hell.
He wishes and prays that one day Megalos won't return, or that a bomb or stray bullet will pierce his skin. Death for one or both of them seems the only way to gain freedom from this mess.
"I know you like it." Megalos whispers into his ear as he wipes away a tear that slipped from Aleksandr's eye. He hadn't meant to let the tear slip out, but he got distracted in his thoughts. "I'll make it even better for you."
Aleksandr didn't like the sound of that. It usually meant…please no. He watched Megalos pull the small metal rod, from the table by the cot they were on. No…anything but that. It just wasn't natural to do that sort of thing. It was uncomfortable and hurt worse than the dick in his ass.
"I'll be gentle." Megalos whispered again. Aleksandr was pretty sure Megalos didn't' know what gentle meant. He picked up a small vial of oil from the table. Large, meaty fingers (that had worked to loosen his ass minutes before) coated in gunpowder and dirt, worked the cork out of the vial's top. Those same fingers carefully spread the oil over the metal rod. It was about five inches long, slightly curving in a wave like form, hardly noticeable at all, and this particular one was about the size around of his own frail, pinky finger.
Megalos had been trying to work him up to this size for a few weeks. It was a terrible experience. Very painful and he was pretty sure he has some internal scarring. Nothing about sounding was pleasurable to him, but Megalos was a big fan of the odd sexual act.
The rod was moved closer to his own throbbing dick. There was nothing he could do about how his body responded to the things it was put through. Just because he was erect didn't mean he wanted it. The body would react of its own accord to the ministrations it was put through. No one could stop that from happening unless they had been badly mentally scarred or had a condition. He felt it, the cold of the metal, as it came into contact with his heated skin.
"Don't make a sound now, dearest. Just relax." Megalos' hand carefully gripped him, slowly pulling the foreskin back to reveal the head of the young man's dick. Some of the oil dripped onto the darkened head, sliding down his length. He tensed as the metal came into contact with the slit. A pained whimper escaped his parched lips as Megalos carefully slid the rod past the slit's folds and down into his shaft.
The deeper it was pushed the more rigid his body became. When it was finally in as deep as Megalos could let it go without risk of it getting stuck, he moved, thrusting himself in and out at a lazy pace. Aleksandr continued to whimper, sweat forming on his brow as he suffered through the pain, trying not to completely break down and sob.
The pain didn't let up, not even as Megalos' body went stiff a short time later as he came deep inside Aleksandr with a rugged grunt. The familiar ache and numbness filled him as the other's body pulled back from him. A contented sigh came from the Vice Commander's lips as he gazed upon his play thing. He carefully removed the rod from its place and Aleksandr felt the slightest hint of relief to have it gone.
"We need to get you cleaned up." That's right. Aftercare; not that Megalos was any good at it, but at least it kept him bathed. He felt the chains come loose from his wrists as he was released so he could be cleaned. Megalos never worried about him running. He was hardly in the condition to fight back against the much larger man, much less actually manage to escape the camp while others where around.
His erection was slowly fading from existence and he was suddenly lifted from the cot as if he were weightless. He was quite certain that his body weight was below what it should be, especially with the small portions and terrible diet he was on.
Cool water was run over his body as he sat motionless in the small tub in the corner. While this bath should have been nice and enjoyable, all it did was leave him shivering. His wrists stung where the chains had rubbed them raw, back ached from the nightly torment of being forced upon. He might as well have been a walking corpse.
His cock still ached and not in a good way. He hadn't even gotten his own release. He hadn't been allowed to come in what felt like forever. He wondered if he could die from over stimulation.
Maybe he would die soon. Maybe his wrists would get infected and he would die from it. He couldn't wait for it to be over. And this close to the border where the war raged the worst, it was possible that his wish might be granted by other means. He wanted to be free of this torturous cycle. Who wouldn't want to be?
A loud whistle cut through his thoughts and had Megalos turning away from his bathing menstruations. The ground shook from the explosion that followed. Megalos was on his feet and rushing for the door in an instant, pausing only long enough to pull on some pants and boots. He didn't even think twice about leaving Aleksandr unchained in the tub. Chances are it had completely slipped his mind and he figured the boy was too weak to make a move on his own anyway. He wasn't far from being wrong, but adrenaline was an amazing thing.
Aleksandr couldn't believe it. This was his chance. He could get away. Maybe some divine being had finally decided to listen to his prayers. He didn't' know, but he was beyond thankful for whatever had allowed this to happen. He could feel the adrenaline course through his veins, giving him the extra strength he needed.
He carefully lifted himself from the water, wincing as pain shot up his spine. His arms shook from the effort of lifting even his own body weight. Dripping water everywhere, he made his way over to the old rags that where his clothes. He pulled on the torn, brown pants, slid the stained cream shirt over his shoulders, and pulled the leather, moccasin boots onto his feet. He grabbed the Vice Commander's good cloak from the chest, wrapping it around him to keep him hidden in the dark and exited the semi-large tent.
The night enveloped him quickly. Shouts from the fighting soldiers could be heard amongst the explosions and gun shots. He didn't want to get caught in the midst of all that. So he stayed to the side of the chaos and made his way across the border. Surely no one would look for him there. What sane Rosía citizen would dare to cross the border when a war as bad as this one was raging between the two countries? But right now Portogalía was his only hope for being free. And he would rather risk dying than remain captive any longer.
He moved carefully in the dark. Eventually the sound of explosions faded, leaving only the sounds of the night to embrace him. He travelled as quickly as he could, tripping here and there. At one point he was quite certain he had twisted an ankle. But that wasn't going to stop him.
Even though his whole body screamed out in pain, he kept moving forward into the night.
"It pains me to continue, but it hurts much worse to stop."