Kyle could taste blood, not only from his nose but from the sure-fire wound on his head that was dribbling the coppery fluid down his fore head and right temple. His eyes slid open to a red haze, and he blinked his eyes, feeling the burn of his body from the couch.
Kenny watched the other man rather disinterestedly, licking his lips and shaking his head. Kyle honestly had no idea why he was here and why Kenny was doing this to him, and maybe that was the best part of it. The fact that he had the only person he had ever actually hated sitting in front of him, the fact that Kyle was bleeding all over the place, disheveled and broken looking, the fact that Kenny now had a new pet... it all made for some good, good stuff and the blonde just watched as Kyle tried to plead his case. It was fascinating, of course, but Kenny didn't really care. It got awful lonely out here and that was probably his first reason for kidnapping his ex-boyfriend. He hadn't had proper sex in quite some time.
Kyle's mind reeled as nausea swept through him as he realized that the blond above him wasn't familiar, and he cringed away before things started to come into focus. His breath hitched and he cringed away from the other man as he coughed raggedly, spitting up a bit of blood.
Fuck. This was not good. This was not good at all. Cupping his head with scratched arms, he could feel himself beginning to shake with the reality setting in that he wasn't going to get away from this. Kenny was right; middle of no where rendered no voice able to carry itself over the forest to town. His phone was gone and Kenny didn't have one.
He was fucked.
"Kenny just let me the fuck go. I didn't do anything to you. You did this to yourself," he shot, try to struggle his way down the couch but only resulting in sending his head spinning. He acknowledged the scrapes and scratched down his body, kind of impressed with the lack of damage and only able to thank himself for remembering to slide his seat belt on as he drove off, though he was kind of wishing he'd died now that he was back here.
"Let up. Please. I know you're pissed about being evicted but that's your fault, too, you can't seriously say you've been holding this grudge this long! You can't seriously think that this is okay! I never DID anything to you!" he cried groggily, still sheilding himself with his arms and shivering against the cushion.
Kenny smiled slightly and shook his head, looking over Kyle and shrugging. "You're makin' it sound like I have a terrible life, which I don't. I love how I'm livin'; I love sellin' weed to people and takin' care of this farm. I ain't payin' my bills 'cause I'm fixin' this place up. And you think that I want to pay money to a scrawny little rat bastard like you? You're a fuckin' idiot, Ky, and you need to realize that everything I do, I do for me. That's why I moved so fuckin' far from you guys. So I could do what I wanted. And I'm happy. Are you happy? No. You're bein' raped."
The redneck got up, walking over to the other man and grabbing his hair roughly. Kyle hissed and flinched, wrapping his hands around the firm forearm of the country-goer with his teeth gritted. He twitched his shoulders, trying to override the pain in his head with concentration as blood continued to dribble down his body from all kinds of spontaneous locations that he didn't care to look for at the moment.
"What I wanna know, though, is what kinda sick fuck takes up the responsibility of tellin' his ex-boyfriend that he's gettin' evicted. What the hell did you come out here for? Why didn't you let someone else come? You fuckin' sadist; you probably just wanted to see me break down cryin'. So I guess I gotta teach you a lesson, don't I?"
"I'm out here... because it's. My. Fucking. Job. No one else could come. I planned on leaving quickly. But you stopped me," he assured bitterly, lifting his eyes at last to stare up at Kenny with a level of hatred dwelling in them. He continued to hold onto Kenny's arm, not hesitating to use his nails as he remained perched up on his knees painfully, almost sure at this point that at least one rib was broken from the hurt in his chest.
Trying hard not to vomit, Kyle shut his eyes a moment before speaking up again slowly. "I was happy. I have a fiance and a decent job and nice friends, Kenny. If you are happier in solitude that's your choice," he offered weakly, sinking slightly with his legs giving before snapping back up again with chattering teeth as he stifled a cry from the pain shooting through his skull from the hand in his hair.
"Let me go, I won't press charges, and I won't ever so much as think of you again," he offered with a wavering tone, looking up at him dryly. "I don't want anything to do with you. You hurt me, and that's why I left you. This isn't making me feel any more forgiving."
"Oh just shut the fuck up for once, Kyle. That fuckin' mouth of your's is gonna get you in trouble; hell, I know that I'm gonna have to take care of it right now." Kyle was bleeding all over everything but Ken didn't give a fuck at the moment; his pickup was blocking the only way into the farm. Swamp was all around here, although it was usually frozen this time of year. It was still dangerous as hell, though, and Kenny knew that it'd be some time before anyone even thought of checking out here for the Jew.
Hopefully by that point Kyle would already be dead and disposed of in the cistern.
Ken clucked his tongue, running his fingers down Kyle's chest slowly and pausing over the spot where he could feel the broken rib, jabbing his fingers into the flesh and seeing how much pain he could cause. A dry shriek of pain escaped the scarlet-haired twenty-six year old at the sensation, tears springing to his eyes as he took an accountable few breaths with his shoulders shaking. He felt his skin prickle under Kenny's fingertips despite his own judgment, head clouding from blood loss. Kenny observed, muttering, "I don't give a fuck whether you forgive me or not. I don't care about you. To me you're just a fuckin' realistic sex doll."
Sliding between consciousness and delirium, Kyle swallowed before gripping Kenny's hand in his own and shoving it away weakly with his head bobbing slightly from the pain pounding through his skull.
"S... Stan knows where I am... he'll come for me," he hissed bitterly, eyes staring ahead of him blindly. He brightened slightly by some inward thought, however, as a few things came together in his head.
This was true. Stan knew he was visiting Kenny. In fact, it was Stan's careful analysis of Kenny's accounting records that lead Kyle there in the first place. The ring sitting on the cabinet of his house back home said enough about the completeness of their relationship, but he was more thankful than ever that he'd decided not to wear it to Kenny's. God knew what the blond would do over that. Though his defences didn't end with Stan. He knew people in the force, and that would back him up some as well...
Letting his eyes dance back into focus, he looked back up at Kenny with fear still lingering there. The question was whether Kenny would let him live that long. Feeling his limbs twitching in their fatigued state, he dropped his arms in exhaustion. "You're sick, Ken. You're... really sick. You need help."
Kenny arched an eyebrow, looking at Kyle and grinning as he shoved the redhead back onto the couch, shaking his head affectionately. "You're a fuckin' idiot. You are such a fuckin' idiot. You do realize that this farmhouse is absolutely fuckin' perfect for snipin', right? Just sit upstairs, point your huntin' rifle out one of the windows, and you can shoot whatever you want. Ducks, foxes, deer, people... pretty much anythin'. If Stan gets within a fuckin' mile of this place I'll blow his pretty little head off. I figured you were with him. You were always starin' at him when we were together in high school. That might have been most of the reason why I stole your goddamn money. Maybe if you hadn't had such a wanderin' eye, Kyle... but whatever. That's all said and done. Right now, though..."
Kyle's hopes sunk a bit with each word the other male spoke, feeling a tear dart to his eyes but he swept it away with the back of a bloody hand before Kenny could notice and us that against him further. This was not what he wanted. No, this was definitely the last place on earth he wanted to be. He would rather be with Hitler at the moment at a holocaust tea party in hell, because god damn, Kenny had gotten scary as fuck in the nine years they hadn't seen eachother.
"I knew it. This is all a stupid fucking jealous trip! God dammit Kenny, I can't believe you! I was all your's back then, Stan was my best friend! I had every right to look at him! You were a fucking flirt all over the place and I never doubted you!"
Kenny looked around the living room, moving over to the mantle and ghosting his fingers over it before pulling something down and walking back over to Kyle with it. He grabbed the other's hair, tilting his head back and stick a Colt .45 in Kyle's mouth. "Come on, suck on it. If your boyfriend really does manage to get you out, this won't be too bad, will it?"
Almost gagging on the bitter taste of the metal as it was stuffed in his mouth, Kyle stared up the length of the handgun, shoulders hitching. What in the hell? Not wanting to risk anything with gunpowder already staining his lips, he shut his eyes a moment before beginning the slow start to sucking on the gun with a professionally trained mouth, running his tongue from the base of the trigger along the bridge and keeping his eyes closed tightly.
Kenny watched the redhead, finger dancing over the trigger quickly as he pressed on it lightly, taking a moment to cock the revolver to show that he meant serious business. He spoke, his voice soft but stoic, seductive, almost, as his free hand moved to the front of the other's clothing. He touched the fabric lightly, licking his lips almost frenetically as Kyle sucked on the barrel of the gun. The blonde leaned forward, lips hovering beside Kyle's ear as he drawled, "You don't even know what it's like to have your head blown off, do you? God, it's a weird feelin', Kyle. I wish that I could do it and have you come right on back so we could play some more. But I guess I'll just leave your head on for a while..."
His tongue traced the lobe of the redhead's ear, taking in the taste of the man he hadn't seen in so long, and Kenny chuckled before stroking the trigger of the gun. "Strip for me or I'll take your head off. You don't need to be alive for our games, honey. I ain't picky."
That note on it's own sent terrified chills down Kyle's spine as his mouth was temporarily freed. Flinching at his own subtle movements from the breaks and tears of his own figure, he felt his lip starting to quiver slightly as his eyes darted around him self-consciously, fingers slipping himself out of his jacket and tie. He wrestled with his button-up before shrugging out of it, feeling time passing with what felt like a year to a second as slowly his clothing dropped to his feet article by article, until he remained in no more than his underwear and his socks.
Staring at the gun nervously, and even moreso Kenny's finger working over it, he finally kicked off his socks and boxers, the first tear rolling loose publicly as his breath hitched, a hand easing over his ribs nervously where the blue-black splotch beneath the skin was already fully formed.
"I don't know why you're doing this," he muttered weakly, sliding his eyes shut a moment before staring down the revolver, entire form alive with shivers of concentrated terror.
"Then I guess we're gonna figure that out together, Ky. I don't need a reason for this. I have a gorgeous man show up at my home telling me I'm gonna get evicted, and goddamn it, Kyle, I'm fuckin' takin' advantage of it. I'm gonna tell you one thing, though. My one rule, I guess you can say."
The redneck stood, his free hand sliding to Kyle's ass as he groped it rather roughly, pressing the revolver to the other's chest, just over his heart. Kyle flinched away, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as the cool mouth of the gun pressed against his skin. "You aren't allowed to leave. You follow that one rule and I won't kill you. You can stay here and I'll feed you and bathe you and make sure that you're happy with me. Like a pet."
Kyle took a few shaky breaths through his nose as he listened to Kenny, eyes lowering at the mention of his looks. Where he might have been flattered on a normal occurrence, Kenny's words were no comfort to him under these circumstances, and he felt increasingly dirtier as he stood in the nude, sliding his eyes shut and letting another few silent tears roll forth.
Body twitching at the firm hand on his behind, Kyle lifted his eyes to a half-gaze into the air as he reviewed Kenny's conditions. Where they were less than satisfactory, if it would keep him alive and safe long enough for someone to come and help him, he was willing, and nodded in silence to demonstrate his agreement.
Kenny continued groping the redhead, licking his lips. "Who all have you been with since we broke up, you little whore?"
Feeling his teeth clench slightly, Kyle glared at Kenny and then turned his eyes away slowly. "A few people. It's none of your business," he muttered, keeping one hand situated awkwardly over his groin as some kind of resolve to his exposure while the other gripped the bruise growing on his chest.
"Don't degrade me and I might be a bit more inclined to behave," he added with a nasty glare, still feeling the shake of his own arms.
Kenny smirked, lifting the gun and placing the barrel against Kyle's chin, tilting his head back all the way and kissing the spot over his jugular softly, feeling the pulse of the other's blood through his veins. He literally had Kyle's life in his hand; one squeeze of the trigger and the pretty redhead's brains would be splattered all over the ceiling. Kenny's cut-offs grew tight as he bit down lightly, smiling as he drew a little blood from the redhead's artery. "You're in no position to be tryin' to call the shots, Ky. Last time I checked, you were in a hostage situation. Not tryin' to be rude, but usually victims don't get to negotiate deals."
Ken shoved Kyle to his knees, pressing the gun to the other's forehead and shrugging. "All right, you little slut, I'm pretty sure you know what I want you to do. If you don't, you're enough of a cocksucker to figure it out yourself. Don't even try and call me anything but master. I'm not here to be your friend."
Kyle dropped to the floor, sending a hateful stare up at Kenny as the gun was pressed to the side of his head. He felt his shoulders shift in discomfort as he rose a hand to undo the blond's zipper, tugging his trousers down a bit before he slid a hand in against the blond pubes poking out over the top of his underwear.
Stripping Kenny's pants the rest of the way after massaging the other man's cock to an acceptable hardness, he peeled the undergarments down slowly, feeling the heat of embarrassment in his face as he gave him a few bare-handed strokes, before dipping his lips over the tip slowly. He dabbed his tongue over the head slowly before taking him in all the way, trying to push back the present feelings of disgust writhing at his centre as he gripped Kenny's hips with his hands and started a tight-mouthed bobbing. His cheeks flushed from his inner feelings of discomfort and fury, but Kyle was no where close to putting his life to risk at this point. God forbid that Kenny was bluffing and was going to kill him anyway, but at least it was going to be some time before he did so.
Hope was still high.
Pulling off of the other man's cock with a pop, he let his eyes flicker up at him for a moment before working his tongue around in the way that he knew Kenny liked, or at least what he had back in the day. Whether that was still the same or not he would learn, he supposed, staring at the redneck's treasure trail with a blank level of indignation as he continued.
Kenny used the barrel of the gun to push a lock of hair off of Kyle's face, watching the redhead go down on him with the same skill that he had possessed all those years ago, and it wasn't really surprising that Kyle had retained his abilities to make Kenny so fucking hard. After all, Ken had taught the redhead everything he knew. He ran his free hand through Kyle's hair and then tilted the redhead's head back, a rather threatening smirk crossing his face.
"Should I fuck you or just use my gun? You are damaged goods, man, and with your record, I don't want to get some STD from you... then again, if my gun goes off inside you... hell, babe, that might fuck you up pretty good and I don't want brains all over my carpet."
Kyle kept an undisturbed face as Kenny spoke, but his skin crawled with the idea alone, and he took a few shallow breaths from his core as his eyes followed the gun while it traced his cheek. He swallowed, trying to rid his mouth of Kenny's taste dizzily, expression only flickering at the mention of his own dignity.
"I don't have any STDs, jesus christ. I've been with Stan for five years," he muttered quietly after, feeling his face redden. Maybe bringing up Stan wasn't such a good idea at the moment.
Keeping the gun pressed to Kyle's head, Kenny yanked the redhead to a standing position and grabbed his wrist, dragging him outside. Kyle was on his feet in a moment with a soft cry, swearing loudly as he was dragged outdoors by the arm and letting his free arm encircle his own body as he jumped across the stony path with hot feet from the sharp pains in their bare soles. "You always said you wanted to do it outside, right? Well, now we can, you little slut, and no one's gonna hear you scream."
Wincing as he was slammed up against the side of the house, Kyle shut his eyes tightly, biting his lip and praying that by some means Kenny was going to be at least merciful to his rear with what ever means this rape was going to take place. He could feel the traces of fearful tears prickling at the corners of his eyes again as his cheek pressed against the rough wall of the blond's home.
"I can't believe you, Kenny."
"'I can't believe you, Kenny.' Shut the fuck up, man. What the hell do you mean, you can't believe me?" He slammed the redhead's face against the wall once for good measure, kicking his legs apart so the other man was spread-eagled against the wall. "Guess you never really knew who I was, then. Figured as much; you wouldn't have gone out with me if you had known how completely fucked up I was. There was a lot you didn't know about me, then. Fuck. Oh, well."
"You weren't like this! You'd never have done this to me back then!" Kyle half choked out, tears running anew with his face's connection with the wall and his already bruised and bloody nose starting a new trail down his face.
Kenny pressed the barrel of the gun to Kyle's lips, smirking rather sadistically. "Make sure it's nice and lubed up, Kyle. You wouldn't want your partner to go in dry, would you? Just... imagine it's Stan's dick." He shoved the gun in, probably chipping a few of Kyle's teeth, and arched an eyebrow. "What're you waiting for, you little bitch?"
Kyle's thighs quivered slightly as he sniffled and coughed, gagging abruptly around the mouth of the gun and a new stream of blood beginning a dribble from the corner of his mouth as he obediently began to suck on the barrel of the pistol amongst fearful sobs.
He's going to kill me. He's going to kill me no matter what.
Shutting his eyes, he tried to imagine himself in a better position, but the pain from every angle over ruled any possible aspect of putting himself in a fantasy. Stan would never do this to him, and he knew it; shit, not even Craig would have gone this far when they'd dated and Craig was as rough of a son of a bitch between the sheets as he was on a normal day.
He sucked on the gun as well as he could, ensuring its proper coating of saliva and not even bothering to stifle his crying anymore as he did so, fear replacing any idea of confidence he might have had prior.
Kenny had always loved it when other people cried. Maybe it was the fact that someone else was hurting instead of him. Whatever it was, it made him feel happier when he wasn't the one suffering. He wanted Kyle to feel all the pain that Kenny felt daily, the pain of having a person you loved betray you, not listen to your explanations... the pain of severing ties with everyone and moving away into isolation... there was a lot of pain that Kyle had never ever even begun to feel. Kenny was going to change all of that.
The redneck watched Kyle choke and gag on the cold metal of the gun, bleeding and crying and looking a mess, and he grit his teeth, scratching at the stubble on his face and reminding himself that he needed to shave, not because of how he looked but because it itched. Kenny finally pulled the gun out of Kyle's mouth and examined it interestedly before looking at the green-eyed man in front of him. He smirked and moved his hand, running the mouth of the gun over Kyle's ass slowly before barely pressing the tip of it into the redhead, still smiling. "Fuckin' perfect lover for you, huh? No emotions, like you, cold as ice, like you, doesn't give a fuck who he hurts or tears up in the process. Exactly fuckin' like you, Kyle Broflovski."
He shoved the weapon into his former lover roughly, gripping Kyle's hair as he kept him pinned to the side of the house, starting to move the Colt in a crude mockery of sex and not really caring what kind of damage he did. "How's it feel?"
Kyle's mind reeled from the sharp pain of the metal scraping against his insides, a hoarse cry escaping him as his fingernails bit into the wall of the house, only drawing more blood. Over all, however, the panic within him was mostly struck around the idea of the gun going off, and with no firearm being specifically safe even in its safest state, the red head was in hysterics.
For Kyle it was impossible to wrap his mind around his situation, his head completely off centre with the prospect of how three hours ago he had been laying in the safer arms of his fiance instead of being pinned against a wall by his now crazy ex boyfriend of almost nine years.
Blood and tears staining the front of his body, he could already feel the warmth of his own life's fluid running from his behind down his thighs as Kenny fucked him with the pistol mercilessly. This left Kyle a shaking crying mess against the wall of the house, red smearing against the stone as his hips were ground raw from the thrusts of the gun with his body making continuous contact with the wall as he wept harder.
If anyone had told Kenny an hour before that he was going to be raping and humiliating his ex, he wouldn't have believed them. The luck of that situation was far too great for someone as miserable as him. The encounter happening at the moment was perhaps the greatest moment of Kenny McCormick's life. If he did, by some chance, let Kyle live, he was fairly certain the redhead would be too damaged to want to get in any sort of relationship with another person. Kenny was going to fuck him up.
"FUCK - Kenny, please, stop - STOP! -"
Kenny fucked him with the gun for a little while longer and then pulled the weapon out, letting the bleeding, sniveling man that had been so proud maybe thirty minutes before drop to the ground. Kyle flinched away from the blond immediately as he was dropped. Kenny toed Kyle's body in interest before crouching down and speaking softly. "I guess I'll show you your new home; it's not all that nice because I haven't had time to clean it up but it'll be all right. I'll feed you just enough to get you by and make sure we play lots of games."
Shielding his form desperately as he hollowly listened to Kenny's words with a hand tenderly resting on a cheek of his own rear. He'd mostly lapsed into silent tears by that point, completely taken by the effects of shock.
He chuckled, running a hand over Kyle's chest. "Maybe I'll even tell you a story or two. How does that sound, mm? I'll tell you the story of where the money went, and what happened afterwards. It's a pretty good story, I think. You might like it. Both sides of the story."
Kenny hefted Kyle to his feet, looking at him steadily. "You think you can stand okay?"
Kyle had parted his lips slightly, listening but not seeing as Kenny explained the time they were going to be having together before a sense of vertigo carried him upward and he staggered dizzily, legs giving away immediately with a soft cry as he shied away from Kenny in order to use the blood-stained wall for support instead.
Panting uneasily for breath, he slid his eyes shut before standing slowly, not providing Kenny with so much as a glance as he managed to stand upright with every limb trembling.
Kyle licked his lips slowly, feeling surreal as he mentally reached for some kind of stability, teetering slightly before he seemed for the most part balanced and standing in place in silence as he awaited further instruction.
Kenny studied his blood and gore-covered Colt, knowing that the metal sight at the end of the barrel had most likely torn Kyle to shreds down below. He wouldn't be good for a fuck for a few days, at least, but Kenny didn't really care. He was just happy that he had someone on the farm with him and that the someone was the one person he loved more than anything. Despite all he did to Kyle, the redhead was always on his mind and he did truly love him. He didn't care about the other man, but he certainly loved him.
The blonde looked at Kyle and then walked into the house. Kyle honestly thought about trying to take off when Kenny went into the house, but weighing out his options and the fact that he could barely stand nevermind run was rendering him a scarecrow on Kenny's front lawn. The redneck returning a second later with a bungee cord and wrapped it around Kyle's wrists only to tug on it slightly, pulling him across the property and walking him to the cistern against the far fence. Kyle didn't move or protest as his wrists were laced together with the elastic material of the bungee cord, staring at the cistern with widening eyes.
Kenny pulled open the rusted metal door of the water closet, shoving Kyle inside and flicking on the one light in the abandoned structure. There was no way... no, apparently there was a way because a moment layer Kyle was a limp pile on the stone floor of the abandoned water collector, a spider or two diving away from him in a route of escape as he let his head thunk against the cool floor. He spoke, leaning in the doorway and looking at the bloody redhead. "You wanna hear my story?"
He rose his eyes to Kenny dully at last, briefly distracted by the fact that the other male was still standing there pantless and with an erection. Letting his eyes slide away, at least thankful that he wasn't having his still raw behind fucked either way, he didn't reply to Kenny's question. A dying animal might not have laid more still as he stared at the dusty innards of the cistern, breathing slightly laboured and pained from his broken rib; he assumed somehow that Kenny would be telling him no matter what his reply was.
Kenny walked over to his victim; the redhead already looked broken. Ken crouched down beside Kyle, brushing some hair off the redhead's face almost affectionately before starting to speak in his low drawl, a threat of violence lingering even as he ghosted his fingers over the other's pale skin. "I took out fifteen hundred dollars from your bank account and put it in mine because yours was frozen that week. That weekend was our two year anniversary and I had already bought plane tickets to Massachusetts so we could head there, get legally married, and come back to Colorado."
The blonde laughed like this was the stupidest thing he had ever contemplated doing and shook his head, leaning back a little bit. "I was going to tell you why I moved the money but you freaked out before I could, found the weed I had bought off Craig for ten bucks, and figured I had embezzled your money for my addiction. So I get busted for fucking bank fraud, and then possession with the intent to sell, and then prostitution."
Kenny's smile dropped and he stood back up, kicking Kyle in the chest. "So for wanting to marry you, I got four years of jail. Awesome trade-off, right?"
Kyle had patiently listened to his story in silence, eyes glazing over slightly. His eyes were unseeing though he was attentive, writing his own imagery from his memory in his head. His eyes only snapped back into focus when the topic of marriage was brought up, and, rolling onto his side he glared at Kenny.
"You're... so fucking stupid!" he shouted finally, anger pouring out of the redhead over everything. "You are... the most incredibly stupid person alive! Why wouldn't you just tell me about something like that, Kenny? I loved you! I fucking LOVED YOU!" he screeched, though the kick to the chest silenced him briefly as his tears fell anew. He seized slightly before heaving from the pain in his ribs, rolling onto his back uncomfortably and looking slightly broken with his back arched up off of the floor and legs curled under him in what could have been a sexual-looking pose if not for his damages.
Gurgling on a little blood for a moment and spitting it to the side as his chest heaved, he let his eyelids flutter from the light-headed high of his blood loss, peering through the dark of his prison with quivering limbs.
"Playing the victim... unsurprising... it's always about Kenny," he laughed hollowly, "Kenny this, Kenny that. If Kenny ain't happy aint' nobody happy, and all that shit. So you robbed me of my money to steal me away and marry me... and what would you have done if I hadn't been ready, huh? Probably what you're doing to me right now," his voice cracked, uncoiling his legs to curl up weakly on his side in order to cry into his palms.
"We were seventeen, Ken. Seventeen! You're so reckless and so impatient..." his voice broke off as he wretched slightly, only proceeding to choke up more blood onto the cistern's stone floor before falling still and crying quietly into his own shoulder. "You don't know me at all. You never knew me. You never bothered, because you're so selfish. And when you don't get your way, you try to flip it around so it's the other person's fault. Well it's NOT my fault! You made a bad choice. If you loved me enough to marry me you could have had the heart to give me some WARNING about it!"
He sent a piercing glare up at his captor a moment before curling up into an even tighter ball as he began to sob pitifully in ragged chokes. He hiccupped and shook his head nonsensically, only high-pitched squeaks of despair leaking from his already whithered form.
Kenny stared at the redhead on the floor, arching an eyebrow; he wasn't sure what reaction he had expected out of the other man but a mini-seizure was certainly not it. Kenny moved over, pressing Kyle back down on the cement floor of the cistern with a hand on the redhead's chest. He surveyed Kyle for a good little while and then smirked, shrugging. "Yep. It is all about me now. Which is why I now pretty much own you. It's all about me and my happiness, and my happiness rests entirely in you keeping me nice and pleased."
He ran his hand down to the other's bloody ass and he slid a finger in, not caring how badly he ended up hurting Kyle. The redneck spoke, voice soft. "Even if they show up here they won't find you. You're a fuckin idiot if you think I'm going to let you go now..."
Kenny lifted Kyle then, slamming into him roughly and again, not giving a shit if he killed the other man. "You better hope it ain't Stan who comes lookin' because I'll pop that head off like a cap off a beer."
Kyle had half a mind to vomit but before he knew it he was being slammed down against the stone floor, stars dancing across his vision for a moment before it went white from pain as Kenny fucked his marred ass, arching off of the floor painfully and attempting to throw a few fists to no effect.
"NO - STOP! STOP - STOP! KENNY! STOP -"
A scream escalated from his vocal chords as he was slammed into brutally, arms flying above his head as he was throw into mercilessly. His shrieks of pain and pleas continued, blood pooling beneath them as he thunked his head back against the concrete and fell quiet after some time as his mind drifted off completely, totally lost some where before his eyes rolled a bit.
Kyle lost consciousness entirely.
Kenny fucked the redhead until he finally came, leaving the other man a bloody, fucked-up mess on the ground. Without bothering to let his binds free, Kenny left Kyle tied up on the floor of the cistern, flicking the lights off as he left and leaving the water tank pitch black. He left the property, going to clean up the car accident and make sure that there was no evidence.
The redneck was looking forward to the time he was going to spend with his brand new pet.
