"God please. Don't do this, please, please oh god- fuck- oh-mmphh"

Blaine's mouth is covered by calloused hands. They taste like dirt and sweat. The salt from his tears are coating the exterior of this thing muffling his screams, and fuck this is happening. This can't be happening. No. No. No. No.

"This ones definitely a virgin." The voice is hot and wet; to close to his ear, and Blaine's sure he's going to die. If he had just listened to Kurt, had just… listened instead of storming off to 'walk' home…. God, no. This doesn't happen to people like him. This cant be happening. Why is this happening?

His limbs have long since gone numb with fear, and he's so tired he can barely speak in slurs of 'no's' and 'stop's.' There are two men with him. One holding him upright, hands behind his back, and the other is currently at his front licking his way up Blaine's neck. Blaine is a virgin, and the only thing he can think right now is 'this should be Kurt.'

There's a hardness pressed against his ass, the first he's ever felt, and he's trying to scream- he really is, god he wants to scream- but he can't. There's a hand, and everything's fuzzy from the blow he endured to his head. He's pretty sure he's bleeding, but the wetness dribbling down his cheek could be tears. It doesn't matter. He'll be dead soon. Dead. Dead. Dead.

"Bend him over, yeah, like that. Fuck, look at that ass." There's a slap that permeates through the air and bounces off something around him. He doesn't know where he is, but he's naked and embarrassed…. more frightened than he's ever been in his entire life. He's blind with fear, and when he feels the first finger breach his entrance he blacks out. The tears fall thickly, and when he wakes up the laughter rings loud and crisp around him.

Defeated, trying to ignore the three fingers sliding in and out of him, he whispers hoarsely, "Please let me go." Maybe his dad is right. Maybe this is god's way of telling him his choices are wrong.

He'd rather be dead.

The hands are now in his hair, gripping his waist, and there's so many Blaine can barely breathe. What's wrong with him? This isn't what it's supposed to be like. He hates this. Fuck, he hates this.

"Please! Please let-" He doesn't get out another word because he's interrupted by the blunt tip of a stranger pushing slick and hard into his ass.

"So tight, baby, so tight." Blaine screams out in pain. "Yes. Fuck."

Everything goes black again. When he wakes up for the second time, he can still feel fingernails pressing into his hips, the pressure of a different stranger filling him up and pulling him back into their body. He's long since run out of tears, and now all he has left are silent sobs and pleas for his life… but he's sure they're all futile.

The man moves faster inside of him, pushing him harshly into the ground. It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad, and why is this happening? As the man slaps against his flesh, he tries to escape by thinking of Kurt. It's making it worse. Somewhere he's sure his phone is blinking blue with missed calls and voicemails. Kurt. Oh god. Now his wrists are held above him, and the more he struggles to free himself the tighter the other digs his nails into Blaine's skin.

"Shut up, slut, or I'll kill you."

He gasps at the threat, although he knew he was going to die anyway, and the man laughs behind him. No.

"Pull his head up, and show that pretty little face your cock." The stranger directs. Soon Blaine's wrists are free, but the pain that remains there when the second stranger lets go tells Blaine they're both broken. He must look terrified because when his curls are pulled and his face meets the second man's, he can't look Blaine in the eye.

"I bet he loves cock. " says the man behind him, "You were born for this, babe, god I could fuck you forever." Blaine feels the sting of a hand on his ass, and then on his face and before he can look at the second man again his mouth is being stretched and a knife is at his throat and fuck, he's going to die. He's going to die. No. No. No.

The man behind him quickens his pace; with every slap he pushes Blaine forward and the other deeper into his throat. Eventually the movement ceases, filling Blaine with an unfamiliar warmth and fuck he knows what it is and he wishes he didn't… god, why is this happening? Why him? Why now? He wants to be dead. Why isn't he dead?

"So good, baby. You were so good."

Both of the men finish with him, and his hearts beating wildly in his chest. Now what? Is he going to die? Is it going to happen again? He tries to shift his weight, but the pain from the unwanted intrusion forces him to fall back down in agony. A kick to his ribs keeps him planted on the ground, and now his hands are being tied.

The voice is back again. "You're mine now baby. Today's you're lucky day. We've decided to keep you."

Blaine shakes his head, no, and the men laugh. He's spoken to as if he were a pet, and fuck he'd rather die than be here. He'd rather die than live with these memories. "No. Please! I'll do anything. Just let me go, please let me go, I'm-"

"Shut up!" A metal object collides with his face. He's sure it's a gun, but he's too afraid to open his eyes. Blaine continues to struggle, and the object meets his face again. Maybe if he struggles enough he'll see darkness again. Blaine's never prayed harder to die in his life. The last thought he thinks before he blacks out for the third time is that he'll never see Kurt again. He should've stayed with Kurt. He should've stayed with Kurt. He should've-