A/N:Here's chapter 2! I want to warn you all that there is rape in this chapter (though not how we usually think of it, it's still rape all the same), so read with caution if that kind of content bothers you. Also, those of you who follow my story, Piers' Lament, know that I'm currently working on the next chapter and hopefully (fingers crossed) I'll have it out within the next week.
And thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! It really made my life seeing how much you guys were liking the story so far! So thank you again, and thanks to those who followed and favorited!
Enjoy and review!
After a near death experience just outside of Cleargate, I've managed to find Red. Apparently, his real name is Chris and he's even got a sister. We're currently en route to Insane City, which is at least another hour's drive. That's not a good thing, because I'm stuck naked in the back seat with Red and he looks like he can't wait to make me suffer.
Status Report 2: Insane City
The hard rock music pounds away at the speakers as Red and I have a stare down. There's no way I'm letting myself become his little cum bucket. He just smiles at me sickeningly, no doubt getting high off my fear. He takes his semi-automatic and empties the bullets from it, careful to check the chamber to make sure there aren't any live rounds. He throws the empty gun into the trunk space and drops the bullets case onto the ground in front of him. Pulling the handgun from its holster, he levels it at me.
"We were interrupted by your heroic antics back at the bus station," with his other hand, he unhooks his belt buckle and pulls the thing from the loops. His intentions are obvious. "I think it's time you finish what you started." Spreading his legs open, he motions with the gun for me to go between them. My stomach flip flops as I continue to sit there, eyeing him dangerously. The look on Red's face tells me he's not amused. "Remember when I said to play nice? Just because I respect your stubborn nature doesn't mean I'll let you walk all over me. Get down here so I can fuck that pretty mouth of yours, or I'll flip you over and shove this gun up your ass."
The threat was very much real; I can see it all over his face. This isn't another 'who flinches first' test like the one back at the bus stop. He has every intention of getting off and he doesn't care how he abuses me to get there.
Moving slowly, I lower myself to the ground and shuffled between his legs. Dred filled my veins as I reached up and once again undo his pants, revealing his partially erect cock. He's been getting a hard-on through all of this, watching me squirm under his thumb. I can't help but hate these kinds of people. The gun comes to rest against my head, "Start sucking."
Doing as I'm told, but throwing him a glare to show I'm not defeated, I slip my lips around him and began working my tongue around his tip. Slowly, I take more of him into my mouth, causing him to groan. I bob my head up and down, sucking gently. I feel him getting harder in my mouth, and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm getting aroused by it too, by the thought that I'm making the United States most fearsome crime lord moan in pleasure. My tongue stroked the underside of his dick, causing him to melt into his seat.
"Oh god, that's right…you fucking whore…" I take that as a good sign and continued what I'm doing, taking a little more of his dick into my mouth before swirling my tongue over his tip again, tasting the salty pre-cum. He gives off a pleasured moan, his body jerking as I continued my assault. "Fuck," he sounds breathless, "Fuck…"
His hand works into my hair, forcing me to deep throat him far faster than I'm ready too. I have to force myself to relax and breathe through my nose to keep from gagging. He gives off another moan as he rolls his hips against my face. I begin bobbing my head again, trying to think of anything other than what's going on right now, like how I'm planning on assassinating this bastard. Maybe I'll shoot his fucking dick off first, chock him on it and see how he likes it. That, or I'll just shoot him between the legs until there's nothing left of his genitals and let him bleed to death. Both options are extremely tempting.
My thoughts scatter when Red shoves his dick the rest of the way in, chocking me some. Tears form in my eyes as I relax my throat even more to allow for his entire length. He's moaning loudly and bucking wildly, the pain of him ramming against my throat almost unbearable. He holds my hair tighter as he reaches his climax, shoving himself as deep as possible before coming in my throat and causing me to chock. I desperately struggle to pull away and he lets me, giving a contented sigh as I spit out the seed that's still in my mouth.
"Damn," he breathes, body melting into the leather seat, "That can't be the first time you've done that."
I don't answer him as I continue to spit and cough, wiping my mouth clean. Every part of me feels violated and disgusting and I want nothing more than to crawl back over to my side of the jeep and be left alone for the remainder of the drive. Of course, by the look in his eyes, this prick has other plans. His gaze is trained on me and I feel self-conscious again. "What?" I ask, anger coating the word.
Red gives me a knowing smirk before speaking, "You're a regular slut, aren't you? No one's ever been able to get all of me inside their mouth before, which means you've got some practice." I only send him a glare, spitting out the last of his cum before wiping my mouth again. "You want to know how else I know?"
No. Not really. "How?"
He points down, that revolting smirk widening, "You were getting off on it."
Heat jumps to my face, as I don't have to look down to see that he's right. Giving him another glare, I snap back, "Are we done?" This only earns a devilish smile from him, who sits himself a little straighter to lean towards me. He levels the gun against my head again, the barrel making a small impression in my temple.
"Jerk off."
There's no way I'm doing that in front of him. I already sucked that gross dick of his, I'm not going to feel myself up and cumming in front of him like some dirty whore. He presses the gun harder against my head and in that moment, I grab ahold of it, twisting it away from my skull just as he pulls down the trigger. The bullet lodges itself into the bullet-proof glass and the car comes to a jarring halt. Red's fist collides with my cheek violently, causing me to see stars, but I don't let go of the gun.
He punches me again, this time its strong enough to throw me off balance and he uses that time to push himself on top of me, pinning me to the floor of the jeep. The music drops to an all-time low and I can hear his sister calling his name. But that doesn't distract Red, who wraps his fingers around my neck and starts chocking me as his other hand fights for the gun. His strong arm is able to suffocate me in no time, causing me to let go of the weapon. Swinging the butt of the gun down, he rams it into my head, sending my world spinning. I drop both hands to the one that's iron grip is cutting off my air supply. Using all of the strength I can muster, I yank on his arm, removing it from my throat. He loses his balance and I take the advantage. Throwing a punch against his face and knocking him back, I grab the gun with both hands, ripping it free from his grasp. I point it at him and fire, Red moving in that moment and only getting grazed across the cheek. The look of rage that crosses his face tells me he would've been less angry had I actually killed him.
"Fucking prick," He mutters as he rams his forearm against my throat again, causing my world to go temporarily black. I cough and wheeze, Red snatching the gun from my hand as I bite back the tears threatening my eyes. Smashing the butt against my face again, I let out a cry of pain, Red's lips twitching upward at hearing it.
I hear the window rolling down, "Chris! What the hell is going on back there!"
"Nothing, Claire, keep driving." There's a kind of joy in his voice that I haven't heard before as he turns his head towards his sister, Claire, and motions with his eyes to continue what she was doing. A moment later, the window rolls back up and the music becomes loud again.
"Well now," he says, looking me over. My face is in all kinds of pain, my head throbbing from the violent hits. I glare at him though, albeit weakly. "You're a fighter, aren't you? I really like that." Reaching down, Red runs a gloved hand over my bruising face. The lightest touch causes me to cringe, biting back another yelp. He gets this revolting smile across his lips, the pleasure reaching his eyes. His fingers trace down my sore face, reaching my neck. In that moment, he grabs ahold of it, pressing down hard.
My hands shoot to his wrist, struggling to remove it. I kick and twist my entire body, doing everything I can think of to try and get out from under him, but he keeps holding, pressing his entire weight against me. He starts laughing as my attempts get weaker, the pain and lack of oxygen causing my thoughts to get fuzzy. Finally, he releases me and I gasp, sputtering and hacking as the air attacks my lungs.
"I can't decide how I like you more," He states, running the barrel of the gun along my chin and up the side of my face. "Sucking my dick or being strangled." I can't even muster up the energy to give him the weakest of glares. My entire body is aching and my lungs are screaming in pain. Red's admiring what he can do to me, a smirk twitching on his lips. He takes the time to correct his clothing, stuffing the gun into the back of his pants. Throwing me a sadistic grin, he throws a punch square in my stomach, knocking the air from my system and causing me to see white. Red's merciless, driving punch after punch downward, my screams and whimpers masked by the disturbing laugh coming from him. It's a vain attempt, but I block, deflecting little of the barrage. Carelessly, he just slaps my arms away and continues, getting even higher because I'm trying so hard to stop the pain.
Slamming one last punch into me, he sits back, breathing hard and smiling. I'm whimpering, not even carrying that he's getting off on it anymore, and wrapping my arms meekly around my middle. Hot tears sting my eyes but I try to hold them back, at least attempting to save a shred of my dignity. "What's the matter, Cole? What happened to all of that brazen attitude I was dealing with earlier?"
I can't even muster up a good comeback, partially because of the pain and partially because I don't want him to attack me again. My breath is raspy as I hug myself tighter and try to turn away, but Red's having too much fun. He leans down, taking ahold of my bruised chin, and forces me to look at him. "Now, the next time I ask you to do something, you say 'yes sir' and do it. Let's practice. Cole, jerk off."
I suck in a shaky breath but don't say anything and that makes him angry. He pistol-whips me again, this time breaking the skin and causing me to bleed. I give off a sharp cry when he hits me once again, my head spinning and the world fading in and out.
"Cole," He says sternly, like he's talking to a trouble child, "Jerk off."
Coughing, I whisper, "Yes sir…"
"Good boy." Red pats the side of my face, the pain causing me to hiss. Sitting up, he gets off of me and moves back to his original position. I can hear him pull out the gun again as well as what sounds like a paper package. He rustles with it before the distinct 'zip' of a lighter comes through the loud music. I can smell it once he's lit it, a cigarette. I can hear him breath out the cancerous smoke lazily before the leather squeaks and there's a knock on the middle window. The music drops to a tolerable level as Red sits back and enjoys his smoke. "Cole?"
Hearing him address me makes my stomach drop, but I weakly reply with the words he wants to hear, "yes sir?"
"I don't want to hear a peep from you until we get there."
I don't bother responding, not even with another 'yes sir'. My entire body feels like it's been through a car compactor and all I really want to do is sleep. I wouldn't say he's got me whipped, I'm still feeling defiant, but he's got me beat today, that's for sure. This is the first time I've been on a mission where I've ended up naked, beaten and completely exhausted. I like to think I'm good at taking down scum bags, but as it turns out, Red's a whole new breed of nasty. Breathing in a shaky breath, I curl onto my side, ignoring the stinging that comes from my stomach as I do so.
Maybe it's because he's not paying any attention to me, or maybe it's because I just can't hold it back anymore, but I start sobbing quietly, and not the pretty kind of sobbing with a sprinkle of tears. It's ugly sobbing, runny nose and everything, but I keep it quiet because the last thing I need is for Red to get another hard-on and decide he wants to shove it up my ass.
After all of that, though, I fall asleep. It isn't until the car rumbles to a stop and I hear the voices of Red and his sister conversing overhead that I crack my eyes open, dazed and groggy. The pain hits me full force as I come around and I give off a sharp yap before biting my tongue.
"It's about time he woke up." Red's voice, he sounds like a jackass.
Every last inch of my body hurts like hell, my head throbbing, my throat raw and aching and my stomach feeling like it's been sat on by a boulder. "Come on," he says, "Get that pretty little ass of yours in gear." I don't appreciate the way he objectifies my body but I meekly try to sit up before collapsing onto the floor of the car again. My muscles refuse to engage, every nerve deciding it'd rather lounge here and risk another beating. Strong hands grab ahold of my arms, jerking me up and out of the car. I'm thrown to the ground, my hands catching me before I can have it up close and personal with the cold, hard cement. I hack violently, my lungs stinging.
Red steps behind me, pressing his handgun against my head, "Stand."
"Y-yes sir…" I push myself up, forcing my body to cooperate. Once I'm on my feet, he gives me a solid push, almost causing me to fall again. Stepping, feet slapping against the concrete, I throw a small glare back at him before looking to where we are. It's an old construction site, probably meant to be a strip mall at one point. Iron beams stand proudly, old machines sit ideal and half built floors decorate my vision. Several flood lights permeate the area with a white hue, bringing my attention to the numerous amount of vehicles parked on the massive slab we're walking on. There's also a lot of men, more than I expected.
We keep walking, Claire's voice calling out, "Chris, wait up!" She comes jogging to him, though he doesn't slow his pace. "So, how much did we score? You know?"
"I haven't gotten a good look at the cargo, but from what I saw, I'd say at least a couple grand."
"Good," her happy smile is evident in her tone, "So it wasn't a complete disaster." She's referring to my little intervention, I suppose. "Any idea when you'll talk with Vice?"
Vice, the only man in Insane City to ever come close to taking Red down. The CIA's reports indicate that he's Red's biggest rival and owns the second largest territory, even though that territory is relatively small compared to Red's. At one point the CIA actually worked alongside Vice to lead a charge on Red's headquarters, Operation: Cohort I think it was called. It ended in a rather dramatic failure, dealing a massive blow to the CIA's intelligence network inside Insane as well as greatly reducing the size of Vice's group. It wasn't one of our better moments.
Why is Red talking with Vice, then?
"I told him I'd radio him once I got done." We take a turn, entering a mostly completed building, having to step over thick electric cords as we continue onward.
"So, soon then?" There's something about her voice that really bothers me but I can't pin what it is.
"Why do you care, Claire?" comes an exhausted answer.
"I'm just curious." Her tone says anything but, but Red's sigh tells me he's not all that interested in his sister's musings. "Let me know what he says," she states quickly before turning off and quickly disappearing down another hallway. Yup, there's something definitely wrong with her. Red comes to a stop and so do I, both of us watching her disappear.
Giving off an aggressive sigh, he shoves the gun into the small of my back and we keep walking, finally reaching our destination. It's a basement that's been converted to a prison, strong bars being outfitted into tiny cells that house barely enough room to lie down. Each have a bucket in the back of them, how fancy. He pulls open one of the doors, motioning for me to go inside. Complying, I walk in and let him shut the door behind me. "I'll be back for you later." With that, he disappears back up the stairs, leaving me to my own devices.
Once I hear the heavy cellar door close and I'm left in complete darkness, I mimic, "I'll be back for you later. Blah, blah, blah…" My back finds the wall and slides down it, its cool touch welcomed on my soar and exhausted body. So he's left me with nothing else to do but contemplate the darkness? Great.
Letting out a huge sigh, I lean my head back, closing my eyes. There's one thing I know for sure, I'm absolutely tired of being naked. It's one thing to strip down for him back at the station; it's another to have to continue to walk around in my birthday suit, the whole world ogling me. This psychopath is a real bastard.
Lifting an arm, I tenderly touch my face, wincing immediately and seeing red spray across my vision. I won't be surprised if I've got a fractured skull. If I die because he whapped me one to many times over the head, I'm haunting him for the rest of his life. He'll never be able to sleep again, fearing my ghostly revenge. My hand travels down, touching my tender neck, the memory of forcibly deep throating that son of a bitch rushing back. I have to chock back the desire to vomit as the taste of his cum, the smell of his sweat and the moans that escaped his mouth all assault my brain, forcing me to relive the horrid event. Tears sting my eyes and I let them come freely again. "Fuck," I mutter, voice hoarse. I wrap my arms around my knees, burying my head. I take deliberate breaths, calming my raging mind. There's no way I'll get through this mission if I break down now. I've got to remain calm. I've had worse done to me, forcible oral isn't so bad.
Honestly, I can't say how long I was paralyzed there, shaking violently as I compartmentalized the rape. However long it was, the door to the cellar opened, causing me to jump. Lifting my head, I watched the stairs with careful eyes, seeing Red appear before flipping on a light switch. Blinding whites dazzled my eyes, forcing them shut. Cracking my hazel orbs open, I see he's carrying a plate, some kind of food on it, and a bundle of clothes. Sitting down in front of my cell and pushing the plate through the bars, he speaks up, "Eat. You need your strength." After, he hands the clothes through the bars, dropping them next to the dish.
Looking at it, I can see it's a simple turkey sandwich on white bread. Nothing else adorns the pale crusts. It's been cut diagonally, the way my mother would always cut my school lunches. Giving him a weak glance, I slowly move forward, half expecting him to pull the plate away at the last second. Red doesn't though, instead watching me carefully as I wrap my fingers around the edge of the plastic dish and pull it closer to me. I wasn't aware that I was hungry but holding the sandwich makes my stomach growl loudly. Biting into it, I can't taste the turkey at all, only the salty residue of Red's previous violation of my mouth, so I spit it out.
"What's wrong?"
How do I put it into words? "Nothing…I'm not hungry." I push the plate away, earning a fowl look.
"I said to eat, Cole."
"I'm not hungry."
"Do you remember the conversation we had in the car? Do I need to remind you?" There's anger evident in every part of his features. This fucker really needs to learn how to control his temper. I turn my head away, looking into the other empty cells beside me.
"I'm not hungry."
I flinch when Red's fists hit the bars, the rattle echoing off the cold walls. I don't even look at him, refusing to acknowledge his fury. I can hear him sucking in deep breaths, all while his glare is bearing into my head. "I show you kindness and this is the thanks I get?"
"You really think you're being kind? Giving me a sandwich is being kind?" I glare at him, eyes burning with venom I wasn't aware I contained.
Red doesn't waver as he glares at me, his voice raised but not shouting, "Would you rather starve?"
"I would!"
"Fine then! I'll starve you!" He reaches in, grabbing the plate and pulling it out of my cell, throwing it across the room. It clatters to the ground, the sandwich flopping apart. "I'm trying to be nice here, Cole, and you'd best accept whatever niceness I give you. You won't survive long if you don't." He gets up without another word, turning and leaving, flipping the lights off on the way out. The cellar door slams shut, causing me to grimace.
Mentally, I scold myself because I know I've really fucked up.