Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.
Trespass – Chapter 4.
He wore a slightly battered pair of Reebok training shoes, one lace fraying at the end; Dutch studied the gunman's shoes trying to keep the panic he could feel welling up in his chest at bay.
"Don't look at the floor, look at me." He was told.
Reluctantly he tore his gaze away from the Reebok's and looked up at his tormentor.
"That's better…now have you ever sucked a guy's dick before?" The man asked him.
For a second Dutch had a hysterical urge to laugh, what was this some kind of survey into his sexual experience. Instead of a laugh however a slight whimper escaped him as he shook his head.
"I didn't think so," The other man said, almost kindly. "Well never mind, what you lack in experience I expect you to make up for in enthusiasm."
Dutch didn't move just stayed there on his knees staring up at the other man.
"Well?" The man asked.
Dutch actually glanced at the man's penis which was right in front of him and then back up at the man's face, swallowing he said in a quiet, trembling voice,
"I don't think I can."
The man turned from him and nodded to his partner and once again Dutch heard Vic grunt in pain as he was punched. He didn't want to hear that sound again so closing his eyes he opened his mouth and leant forward resting his hands on his thighs and took the gunman's penis into his mouth. He gagged on the musky smell of the other man, on the taste of sweat and even urine on his tongue. God he thought, how do women do this it was disgusting. He heard a sigh from the man standing over him and felt him reach down and grasp his hair.
"Well don't just sit there… suck it boy." The man ordered him the grip in his hair tightening.
Dutch heard himself sob and felt tears spilling down his cheeks as he complied. He heard that sound again, Vic being hit, and then the other gunman's voice sneering at Vic,
"Open your eyes and watch, he's doing this for you."
Dutch felt a wave of shame wash over him. They were standing side onto Vic and the other man so he knew that right now Vic was watching him kneeling on the floor, crying, with some guy's dick in his mouth, giving him a blow job. The man above him groaned and began to move his hips thrusting his dick into Dutch's mouth, making him gag. He could feel the man's penis growing in his mouth, and then Dutch tasted a salty, bitterness on his tongue, the man's pre-cum.
"Oh fuck yeah, that's it." He heard the man groaning as his erection banged against the back of his throat.
Dutch tried to breathe around the other man's flesh, trying to pull in a breath when he pulled out slightly before slamming back into his mouth. He was left gasping for breath when the man suddenly withdrew, letting go of his hair and stepping back.
"Oh no not that easy…I got something even better than that planned for you." The gunman told him as he reached down grabbing Dutch by the hair again and pulling him upright, the other gunman was prodding Vic in the back with his gun, moving him to stand near them. Dutch caught a glimpse of Vic's face, his mouth drawn into a tight line, his eyes blazing anger and he wondered how much of that angry, disapproving expression was aimed at him. He felt sure that Vic must be disgusted with him, must think him weak, Dutch quickly turned his face away from him.
"Here take my gun and make sure you keep a close eye on that one." The man who held Dutch told his friend.
"Yeah sure I know. Just get on with it man I'm still waiting for my turn you know." The other man replied impatiently.
"I can see that." The leader of the two of them laughed.
Dutch couldn't help himself, he glanced at the man holding Vic in curiosity and instantly regretted it when he saw him rub at the obvious bulge at the crotch of his trousers. He saw the man push Vic down onto his knees and stand behind him the gun pointed at the back of his bowed head. Then he was pulled away by the vicious hand in his hair, pulled towards his bed. Instinctively he tried to dig his feet in, pulling back, not wanting to go there. The man reached out and used his other hand to grab Dutch's arm in a bruising grip,
"Don't fuck with me." He hissed his tone dangerous.
Once at the bed he let go of Dutch's hair, though he still held on tightly to his arm, and reached up pulling Dutch's pillows down to the middle of the bed one on top of the other.
"Get on the bed," He told Dutch. "Lie on your back and make sure those pillows are under your ass. I want to be able to look into your eyes while I fuck you."
Dutch froze, staring at the bed, at the pillows, his mind shutting down as fear consumed him. He began shaking his head, taking a tentative step backwards,
"No, no, no, no, no…" He muttered.
He felt a fist punching him in the face, his lip splitting open and blood in his mouth. He stumbled back, half falling onto the bed, then he had the gunman's face in his, spitting venom at him,
"Get up on that bed now or you can watch while I kick the shit out of your friend over there."
Dutch reached up a shaking hand to his mouth wiping away some of the blood as he reluctantly obeyed, realizing he had no choice, that he'd never had a choice.