His first thought, was that it didn't hurt...That's a lie, it hurt - just not as bad as he'd expected. This kind of slow painful ache he could handle. The body rocking slowly against him as if he were made of glass. carefully entering and retreating again from his body. The unusually soft whispers of Karofsky's rough voice in his ear were soothing, but unwelcome.
This could have been the perfect first time, he muses. Under different circumstances of course. If he hadn't been thrown into a truck, and taken to 'Who Knows Where'. If this hadn't been taken by his own will. If the bruises covering his body, didn't throb with every movement. If he hadn't been left to suffer, die, and rot in the middle of nowhere. If only, he could reach his phone for help.