Murdoc roused with a sharp pain in his head. And then on his face. He realized blurrily he was being slapped again. And maybe again.
He blinked, slightly less dazed. The man in front of him was saying something, and looked rather pissed, but Murdoc's ears were still ringing. There was something weighing on his neck. He reached up to pull at it and found it wouldn't budge.
He blinked again.
"...you sodding minger ! Thought you could get out of this?"
Murdoc was slapped again, and this time he felt it.
Everything was still hazey, but he managed to find a way to look the fucker in the eye. He spat in it.
That earned him another punch to the face. That wasn't doing anything good for his head, sending his vision dancing again. Then he was punched in the gut, multiple times, until he made a wretched, pained noise.
"C'mon, lay off." He heard the man behind him say. "Thought you wanted him conscious… "
Murdoc realized suddenly the thing around his neck was the big bloke's arm, that he was in a headlock, and his feet were only just barely touching the floor. Fuck.
The man before him snorted. "I guess I'd prefer it if he squirmed a bit."
He grabbed Murdoc by the hair, wrenching his head up. "Don't fuck with us like that again. We'll beat you bloody."
"Do it." He rasped, wincing. "Do it and see if I'll be awake for whatever it is you want out of me."
He swallowed. He wasn't thinking very clearly right now, but some kind of dread was clawing at his gut, slowly tearing it from the inside out. Maybe it was the fact that his brain was still knocking around, but he just couldn't figure out why, and that made it all worse.
He heard them laugh again. The blond man glanced at his friend, smirking, like they were both privy to a secret Murdoc wasn't in on. He stomach tied itself into knots.
The man pressed his knee into Murdoc's cock and he realized it was still out. Squirm he did, and howl too, until the arm around his neck constricted again.
They finally let up and he breathed raggedly, grimacing. "What are you trying to do here, castrate me?"
The man returned to fondling his bollocks again, rubbing one side in slow circles. "Dunno. Would it cut down on that aggression of yours?"
Murdoc's upper lip curled. A feral rage coursed through him. But so did sickness and humiliation, and a rapidly mounting fear .
The touch was repulsive, and degrading, but again he found his body responding, which simply added to the degradation. He knew better than to try and get out of this though. Could these cunts not just be finished with all this?
"Can you get on with it already?" He said tersely, his fear mingling with frustration. "Are you just gonna stand there with a fistful of cock, or are ya gonna give me it back?" His lip twitched. "Or are ya gonna try'n get me off, luv ?"
Neither of them said anything. Murdoc managed to sneer.
"So this is just what you like, eh? Standing round and gripping a dick in a lav cubicle? You coulda achieved that complicated activity all by yourself, knobhead!"
More silence, like he hadn't spoken. Like wasn't in the room at all.
Murdoc had finally had enough. His hands free, he reached out and tried to push him off.
"Well don't just stand there, make up your goddamned mind already! Or maybe you oughta call it a day and let me be, you've had your fun, you mad soddin cunt!"
The man leaned in, sneering. "Oh but I have made my mind up . This was always just the appetizer, mate."
Murdoc felt himself surge with desperate, wild fury. He growled like a rabid dog and thrashed at his attackers. He remembered his hands were free and drove a fist into the side of the cunt's stupid fucking head.
The tosser shrieked, stumbling back a bit. He hissed, clutching his temple and pitching obscenities Murdoc's way.
The man behind him grabbed the offending hand by the wrist and twisted it into a painful position.
That made Murdoc whimper, and he went still. It was all on instinct, and he knew a beat later was a mistake.
The man pushed himself off the side of the cubicle, his leering smile returned to his face.
"Oh that's right you think you're some typa bloody musician, yeah?"
The bigger man squeezed his wrist and Murdoc cried out. Terror, real terror swept through him.
No no nonono…he couldn't lose that, not that …
A life without his band, without being able to play , flashed through his brain. He'd always had that. Even when life hurt so bad he'd wish he'd never been born, he'd still had that.
"Alright alright alright," he wailed. Tears sprang to his eyes. "I'll behave , I promise, I'll…"
I'll let you do whatever you'd like, i won't even fight back. That was really what he was saying. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.
He whimpered. "C'mon, c'mon…I swear it, I will, I will ..."
The pressure relaxed. He felt something wet slide down his cheeks. No, no he wasn't crying...he didn't cry...not in front of anyone, not now...
Abruptly, he felt a pat on his cheek, which made him flinch. "There now, there's a good boy." The man purred.
Somehow, that felt worse than anything prior. Finally, finally , he realized there could be more done to him than all the disgusting and painful and humiliating things he'd been subjected to before now. Finally, after all this , he realized there would be.
The blond bloke, the sadistic fuck, yanked down Murdocs trousers and pants, all the way down to his ankles.
Murdoc recoiled. The tears renewed themselves. He tried desperately to quell them.
He didn't want to believe it before. That this was where it was heading.
He felt like he was nine again. Small. Pliable. Too bloody stupid to see it coming.
He distantly heard a click of a camera, saw a flash through his eyelids.
"Rather nice one." He heard a voice say. "Best so far I'd say."
Murdoc opened his eyes, just in time to watch the bastard take out his cock, and spit in his hand. He started stroking it, eyeing Murdoc all the while.
"I do like this you know."The man's voice hitched, saliva glistening on his teeth. "You asked before and you're right. Does give me a thrill." He breathed in deep, arousal overtaking his face.
Murdoc said nothing, biting his lip. His eyes wandered to the ceiling. He didn't know if it was worse to watch the man play with himself, stiffening up his cock, or simply listen to the wet, slick sound of it over the faint club music, and give himself space to imagine what was going to be done with it.
He felt somewhat sharper breath on the back of his head, and something hard press into the back of his thigh, and realized the man clutching him was enjoying all this too. He tried to tune it out.
The blond man stopped playing with himself, spat generously into his palm, and ran it over his dick again a few times. He leaned closer and wrapped his still slimey digits around Murdoc's thighs and hauled them over his shoulders.
The sensation of his heels leaving the ground and his body pitching sent a new wave of helplessness and humiliation coursing through him. He was pulled into an uncomfortable position with the edge of his heels sitting on the small of the man's back. His legs didn't bend all that far, held captive by the so very tight jeans pooled around his ankles, but enough to spread him out.
The man spat into his hand one last time and brought his cock into position.
The creeping horror had finally settled in his gut, like some living thing twisting around inside him. That was it. That couldn't be it. That'd hurt them both that couldn't -
"I've got lube," he said. His voice was soft and desperate and submissive, but he didnt care. He was so beyond caring. "I've got...its in my pocket, look, it's right there if… if you'd just give it a look…" it wasn't much and it wasn't exactly thick enough for this sort of thing, but it was better than, fuck than saliva, and not much of it, practically nothing at all really.
He knew how it felt to have things shoved in there dry, and even somewhat gently it wasn't an experience he was eager to repeat. And he highly doubted this would be any approximation of gentle.
The look on the man's face was cruel and hungry. He didn't even make eye contact, his gaze drifting all over Murdoc's prone body.
Murdoc gripped the arm around his neck. "Please just...it wouldn't be much trouble…its right bloody there if you just…"
His thighs were spread more.
"You bloody bastard," he choked out. "this won't be pleasant for you , I can guarantee it you stupid fucking piece of shit..." his leg kicked involuntarily, which earned him more pressure on his wrist. He could feel the bones rub together painfully and he clenched his jaw, going still, and then limp.
The man gripped his thighs and pulled him flush. Murdoc felt his breath on him.
Murdoc's voice drew into a warble. The panic was obvious and it stung, but the fear was shutting out any measure of dignity or pride he had left.
'there's no need for this...it just...its right there and you...you don't need to do this...its just there in my pocket…" his fingers dug into the arm on his throat. He shut his eyes. "Please . " He whispered. " Please ," louder, shriller. Something of a sob. " c'mon just…"
He wasn't sure if it was the anticipation of pain or just the dawning horror that this was happening at all and he couldn't stop it. That he had no control over it, not even a little.
The man finally locked eyes with him. His smile was very cold. His unnervingly straight white teeth shone in the dim fluorescent light.
"Well I think it's enough." He glanced at his friend. "Don't you think it's enough?"
Murdoc felt his friend shrug behind him. "Only one way to find out."
He felt some stiff, slick thing slide over his thigh, and rub against his perineum.
Then that hard cock was shoved into him.
He wailed. The arm around his neck tightened and so did the grip on his wrist, but he couldn't help it.
Fuck it hurt. Fucking shit, it bloody hurt. It burned like an open flame. His legs trembled madly.
"Weak piece of shit...can you shut him up?" The man inside of him said to his friend, more annoyed than anything. Annoyed. Like it didn't matter to him what he was doing at all.
Murdoc's neck was constricted further, his head beginning to spin. He felt himself get limper and some part of him, some ancient quiet horrible little part of him his resolve was too thin to suppress, whispered don't fight it…wait it out, you can do it...relax and it'll all be over soon enough...
The grip around his throat loosened. He inhaled. His world was still a bit fuzzy around the edges, his arms hanging at his side.
"Don't scream again, you weepy fucking faggot," he heard distantly. "you'll fucking regret it."
Another shove into his arsehole dragged Murdoc out of his haze. He let out a strangled cry, more of a whimper than anything, but he had the presence of mind to drive his crooked, sharp teeth into his lower lip and bite it back, keep it from growing.
"Not bad." The man said. "Looks like you were a bit right there you whiny slag, is kinda wedged in there. Getting traction for a bits gonna be rough. But that's what blood's for, ain't it?" He gripped Murdoc's hip. "Fuck though, you're nice and tight…"
The man drew back, dragging his cock with him.
Murdoc wailed through his teeth. He let out a broken, quiet sob, and closed his eyes.
Murdoc felt tears run down his cheek. He told himself it was the pain. That was at least half of it anyway.
