Warnings: Noncon/dubcon, slavery, face slapping, anal fingering.

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry, I planned to have this up on Monday and then Monday didn't work out, so then I was shooting for Wednesday, and then Wednesday didn't happen and now it is Friday and I am so, so, so terribly sorry, but this is kind of an important chapter so I didn't want to rush it. Also, I have been trying to keep this from Kurt's POV, but part of this demanded to be written in Blaine's POV, so that's a thing that might happen more often from now on (definitely next chapter, then we'll see what happens after that that says it wants you guys to see it through Blaine's eyes) Also (another also, jeeze Monica, just shut up) The end of this chapter will not be the end of this training day, I have more planned to be written, and I haven't decided if I'll just smash it and the next day of training together or if the rest of this day will be it's own chapter, but just know, there will be more, it just seemed like a really great place to end the chapter…. and make you guys hate me. Enjoy!

Word Count: ~1,900

Kurt was kneeling stiffly beside Blaine shivering in the cold draft of the room. Sir had given them each their own bottle of water and then left the room. Kurt waited for the drugs to take effect, but nothing was happening. Not to him at least. Blaine's breathing was shallow, his eyes closed as he seemed to fight the urge to squirm against the itch under his skin that Kurt knew well now, his fingers curled with nails digging into his thighs. Kurt wasn't sure how he could stand to be so hard, with his hands so close, and not touch himself.

But mostly he was just scared. Scared of why they had drugged Blaine and not him. His legs squeezed tightly shut because the only reason he could think of, was that Blaine was going to fuck him. And apparently his suspicions were right when Sir walked back into the room and dropped a bottle of lube between them.

Kurt took a deep breath through quivering lips, clenching all his muscles tight to try and stop his shaking. He'd known losing his virginity was going to be horrible no matter what, but did Sir really have to watch it happen? He couldn't even have a bit of privacy while the last bit of innocence was ripped away?

But Blaine didn't reach for the lube. "He's a virgin, Sir," he stated quietly.

Sir scoffed, "Oh trust me, dog, I know. And you will not be the receiver of the privilege to fuck his tight little ass for the first time." Kurt flinched involuntarily. "But, that doesn't mean he can't have a little help learning how to stretch himself."

Kurt sagged slightly in relief, reaching a trembling hand out for the bottle. He let out a sharp cry when Sir's booted foot came down on his fingers.

"What do you think you're doing, bitch?" he asked, grinding his foot down when Kurt tried to pull his hand away.

"I-I… I thought-"

"You thought you'd do it yourself? You thought you were allowed to touch your greedy little hole?"

"I-I didn't-I," Kurt whimpered in pain, "you said… I n-need to learn, I just-"

Sir tsked, "Not yet, first the dog will stretch you, then you will learn."

Kurt's breath sped up, "But-but, can't I just do it my-myself? Please, Sir, I-I don't need him to do it. I shou-should be untouched, right? It's better if-if I just do it?"

Sir chuckled darkly, "You really don't want him to touch you, do you?"

Kurt glanced at Blaine, who was obediently keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him, and shook his head.

"Would you prefer if I did it?" Sir asked. Kurt thought, Sir would be rougher with him, he wouldn't stretch him as much as possible, just to watch him squirm in pain with the press of each new finger. It would hurt and he would feel used and violated, even without actually being fucked. But it wouldn't screw with his head like Blaine's gentle hands and soothing whispers would, making him relax and trust him even as he was raping him.

"P-please, Sir," Kurt pleaded quietly, head bowed, "I want you to-to finger m-me." Kurt blushed brightly in humiliation, disgusted at having to say those words.

Sir gripped his chin, raising his head until he was forced to meet Sir's eyes. "Say it again," he ordered.

Kurt swallowed hard, wetting his lips, "Please finger me, Sir," he whispered.

"Louder," Sir barked.

"I want you to finger me, Sir," Kurt said, raising his voice but looking away, heart thrumming wildly in his chest.

Sir's hand left his chin, returning in a flash to strike the side of his face once with his palm then returning to backhand the other cheek. Kurt choked back a cry, forcing himself to remain upright.

"Beg, bitch," Sir hissed, "beg me to touch you, to finger your sluttty hole, beg me to sully my hands with your filth, whore."

Kurt's jaw trembled, mouth opening and closing silently, but he couldn't force the words out, couldn't call himself those things.

"Thought so," Sir said with a cruel sneer. He ground his foot down into Kurt's hand one more time, making him jerk and whimper, before stepping off of it and kicking the lube towards Blaine. It skidded into Blaine's calf and he reached down to pick it up carefully. Blaine turned slowly towards him, with wide, warm eyes and hands raised in front of him.

Kurt shook his head, scooting away from Blaine. "Please, Sir," he tried to plead, tears clogging his throat, "please, p-please, fuck…" he took a deep breath, "please fuck my-my dirty little who-whore hole."

Sir just rolled his eyes and walked away, "Hop to, dog," he snapped, "it's not like you need his permission."


Blaine edged towards Kurt slowly, trying to not startle him, but it became pretty apparent from the desperate shaking of Kurt's head that there was going to be no calming him down. He touched Kurt's arm carefully and the other boy jerked away. "It's okay, Kurt," Blaine said gently, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Kurt scrambled away when Blaine reached for him again. "Don't touch me," he snapped, hands clenched into tight fists.

"Please, Kurt," Blaine murmured, though he wasn't sure what he was begging for. Please trust me? Please don't hate me? Please realize I don't want to do this? Please don't make me force you? Kurt's only reaction was to scoot farther away.

Blaine didn't have to look to know that Sir was still there, watching them, and likely growing impatient. He wouldn't change his mind and do it himself if Kurt kept resisting Blaine, he would just tie Kurt up and whip him bloody and then still make Blaine finger him.

Blaine took a deep breath, put the bottle of lube between his teeth, and moved quickly. Kurt was taken by surprise, hands flying up to protect himself. Blaine grabbed one wrist, twisting it behind Kurt and pressing it to the small of his back, when Kurt flailed the other arm behind him, trying to hit Blaine, Blaine just snagged it too, working for a minute to get a grip on both of Kurt's wrists with one hand before gently pushing him down into the floor, face pressed to the carpet and ass in the air. Kurt kicked and struggled against him but Blaine just wedged himself between Kurt's legs, spreading his own knees to separate Kurt's. He pulled the lube from his mouth with his free hand, but waited.

He pressed his chest to Kurt's back, mouth next to his ear. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered but Kurt kept struggling against him despite the fact that he was going nowhere, not with the way Blaine was holding him. He whimpered, hands twisting in Blaine's grasp, Blaine loosened his grip, not enough for Kurt to break it but enough to lessen the pain. "Please, Kurt, this will be easier if you just relax."

"Get the-the fuck… offa me," Kurt ground out, breathing heavily.

Sir cleared his throat behind them, making Kurt flinch and let out a quiet cry of mortification and Blaine knew what was going through his head. He was going to be raped, by Blaine, and Sir was going to watch it happen. He wouldn't even get privacy during this. Blaine licked his lips, pressing his forehead to the back of Kurt's neck and taking a deep breath before sitting back on his knees.

Blaine fumbled to get the bottle open with only one hand, dropping it a few times as Sir started tapping his foot impatiently, making Blaine's heart pound and palms sweat. Even once he got it open, he realized he had no way to get the lube onto his fingers, he couldn't release Kurt's arms, he'd be out of his grip in no time with the use of his hands and one handed was impractical and basically impossible. He dropped his head onto where Kurt's were held at the small of his back and breathed.

"Sir?" he called, feeling Kurt tense underneath him, "I-I… I need help… with the lube?" he left in a question.

"Use your spit," Sir snapped and Kurt's struggled returned with such renewed vigor that Blaine had to bodily hold him down, free arm wrapping around Kurt's middle to keep him from yanking away.

"That-that'll damage him, Sir," Blaine said, "he's a virgin, we-we…" he fought down the nausea to force himself to keep speaking, "we don't want to t-tear him and lessen his value."

Sir was quiet and Blaine stayed still, hand rubbing soothing circles on Kurt's stomach to try and calm his quick breathing, so fast now he was near hyperventilation. Finally he heard Sir approach, he saw him out of the corner of his eye, crouch down to pick up the discarded bottle.

"Hand," Sir barked and Blaine gave Kurt's stomach one last comforting rub before holding his hand out to Sir. Sir squirted a mediocre amount of lube onto Blaine's finger. "Make it last, dog, I'm not helping you again."

Blaine nodded, rubbing his fingers together to try and spread it around before leaning back. Blaine rubbed gently over Kurt's hole, feeling the way he tightened up immediately, struggled weakly, and sobbed quietly. Blaine continued to stroke carefully waiting as long as he could for Kurt to relax before pressing in slowly. Kurt let out a high whine, twisting desperately in his grasp, legs squeezing tightly around Blaine's body as they tried, in vain, to close. Blaine sunk to the knuckle, twisting his hand so his thumb could rub soft circled into Kurt's perineum.

Kurt twitched and whimpered as Blaine carefully pulled his finger out before sinking it back in. He continued with slow repetition until he felt Kurt was open enough and carefully slipped a second finger in. Kurt hissed at the burn, clenching around Blaine's fingers. "Shh," Blaine hushed him, trying to give his wrists a comforting squeeze, "just relax, gorgeous, you're doing wonderful." Blaine didn't know how Kurt would react to the praise, knowing it helped some and hurt others, and he couldn't quite tell from the way Kurt sagged in his grasp, breath hitching minutely, which it was.

As he picked up a quicker rhythm, scissoring his fingers inside of Kurt, he started to notice that Kurt wasn't fighting him anymore. He was still shuddering but his hands were still and loose in Blaine's grip, his legs we spread slightly wider than Blaine's knees were forcing them, and he was no longer clenching tightly around Blaine's fingers, trying to force them out. Blaine leaned up carefully, trying not to put too much pressure on Kurt's back, and got a look at Kurt's face. Lips open and letting out trembling breaths, eyes wet with tears, and splotchy tracks running down his cheeks, but his expression was blank, eyes staring into nothingness. Blaine had seen this look before, worn it himself, felt the kind of pain and fear that brought you to the point where it was better to feel nothing. Kurt, was broken.