p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px; text-align: center;"A/N: This chapter contains descriptions of rape. Please read at your own discretion. Thank you./p
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p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px; text-align: center;"strongChapter One: Pain/strong/p
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p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"The cold, Colorado winds whipped in through the open window, bringing winter in with them to Kenny's room. The teenager shivered under his worn-out parka from where he sat cross-legged on his bed, hunched over the bong settled in his lap. He closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath of smoke, held it in as long as he could, and then leaned his head back against the wall as he let it out./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Keeping his window open was really only a formality for the sake of not having a room full of smoke – the house always smelled like pot, or meth, or vomit, or who knows what else. There wasn't a moment he could remember that his parents weren't drunk or high or both. He liked to tell himself that he didn't care, that his life had just always been like this and he was numb to it all by now, but as he set the bong down on the rug beside his bed, lay back and stared at the ceiling, he got the uncomfortable feeling that it still bothered him./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"emFuck this/emem,/em he thought to himself, reaching under his pillow for the dogeared, but still usable playboy magazines he kept hidden there. He'd probably gone through each one a thousand times, but he still always managed to find something in them that got him going. Granted, it wasn't particularly difficult to get him going. He was a teenage boy, with a libido even higher than most guys he knew. For years now he'd just been constantly horny. It gave him something to do, at least./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He stuck his hand down his pants, fishing his dick out as he started flipping through the magazine. He teased himself with just a finger and a thumb, enjoying the gentle stimulation as he looked for the picture that would get him hard this time. Eventually, however, he sighed and switched magazines, as the first didn't seem to be working. Maybe Busty Asian Beauties would work better./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He tried with that for a few more minutes before deciding that wasn't working and stowing the magazines back under his pillow. Pictures just weren't working for him lately. Unfortunately he didn't have a Wi-Fi connection, or a laptop on which to watch porn. He did, however, have the portable DVD player that Kyle had gotten him last Christmas, and a stack of pornos he'd 'borrowed' from his and Stan's dads./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He reached under his mattress for the DVD player, where he kept it hidden so his parents wouldn't find it if they were raiding his room for drug money, and pulled out one of the DVD, grinning when he saw it was one he hadn't seen yet. He popped it in and settled back as the stereotypical music started. There wasn't much of a plot, not that he'd expected one, but somehow the stereotypical skeleton plot of two blonde bimbos who ordered a pizza but couldn't afford it and paid for it with sex got him hard anyway, and soon he was stroking away to the exaggerated moaning of the girls double-teaming that one guy./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Actually, what was really getting him was those fabulous abs. He'd have to figure out who that pizza guy was later, because he had fantastic abs. Kenny was a sucker for a nice set of abs on a guy - he'd used to be proud of his, before starvation and malnourishment had fed on any muscle he'd had. He just really liked watching them move, it set a fire in his groin like he couldn't believe./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He was starting to feel warm despite the open window, so he pulled down the hood of his parka so that he could breathe in the cold air. He groaned in pleasure as he did so, turning toward the window. When he did, he froze./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""C-cartman!?" He squeaked./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"His former friend was looking in his window, watching him, just staring at him. Kenny scrambled to cover himself with his blanket, and Cartman scowled. "Hey, what are you doing covering up?" He said, trying to pull himself up through the window. Kenny scowled, pulling up his pants and flipping Cartman off. "Fuck off, fatboy. I told you years ago to stop getting all fucking creepy with me and now you're looking through my fucking window!? Get out of here, shitbag!"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman ignored him, instead dropping down from the open window with a thud and quite calmly leaning against the wall. Kenny could see a bulge in his pants. "Gross, dude." He growled. "Get the fuck out of here and I won't tell anyone you're being all faggy, alright? The fuck do you want, anyway?"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman smirked, and Kenny could see he had a few new missing teeth. Clearly his hygiene hadn't improved. "What do I want? I fucking want you, dipshit." He answered, approaching the bed. Kenny felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck and he got to his knees, quickly trying to untangle himself from his blanket. He didn't trust being alone in a room with Cartman, not the way Cartman had been ever since they'd stopped playing with him when they were kids. "Dude," he said quickly, stalling, "I fucking told you, I'm not into you like that. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to tell you."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman glared at him, clearly not satisfied with that answer. "You and I both know that isn't true, Kenny." He said. "You whore yourself out all the time to pretty much anyone, how come you don't want me so bad, huh!? Clearly you're just racist against fat people." He casually walked in front of the door, leaning against it and blocking that route of escape./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny had to laugh at that. "Yeah, okay, I'm definitely the racist one in this room. Not the guy who tried to wage war against the Jews, but me. Fuck off, Cartman, I'm not going to fuck you. It's just getting pathetic." He turned to get out of bed and climb out the window, since just being in the same room with Cartman alone was making his skin crawl, when he suddenly heard a cry of fury from the other side of the room. Maybe calling him pathetic had gone a bit too far in pissing him off./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He tried to leap off of the bed but felt a sudden weight on top of him that sent him (and his DVD player) crashing to the floor. There was a sharp pain radiating through his arm and he couldn't stop himself from crying out. "FUCK! That fucking hurts!" He shouted. "I think you broke my fucking wrist! Get off of me!"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Above him, Cartman chuckled. "Now," he said. "You be a good little Kenny and don't fight back, and I won't have to break any more of your brittle little bones." Naturally, Kenny immediately started trying to throw him off, fighting through the pain, but it was like he was trying to throw a pile of bricks off of him. He'd beaten Cartman in fights before, of course, but that was when they were kids playing superheroes, when Kenny still had muscle, before his mother had lost her job washing dishes at the Olive Garden, before Cartman had learned to throw his weight around to his advantage. Now he was nearly three times Kenny's size, and the smaller boy could barely breathe beneath his weight, let alone hope to throw him off./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""Fine," he sighed. "I'll suck you off if you get off of me. You're fucking crushing me, Cartman."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman laughed and shoved him against the floor, holding his head down with one hand and starting to pull his pants down with the other. "I gave you plenty of chances to do this consensually and you still fought me. No, no, I'm going to show you what you've been missing, Kenny. And you're going to love it, you little whore."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""Stop calling me that!" Kenny shouted, twisting himself out of Cartman's grip and trying to get to his feet so he could run. Unfortunately his only reward came in the form of Cartman grabbing him again and shoving him against his nightstand. He cried out again, feeling another sharp pain, this time starting from his shoulder as he hit the nightstand. While he was reeling from the impact, Cartman rolled him onto his back and forced his pants and boxers down to his knees. He pressed his arm against the smaller boy's neck, and Kenny looked up at him like he was seeing Cartman for the first time./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""Now," he said, looking angry and out of breath. "Are you going to be a good Kenny and stop fighting, or are you going to make me break more of your bones?"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny glared up at him. Then he spat in Cartman's face. "You're gonna have to kill me first," he growled. Furious, Cartman punched him in the jaw, then turned him roughly onto his stomach, shoving his face into the carpet and pinning his arms behind his back. Kenny almost viewed this as a positive change. At least he could breathe in the dust in the carpet instead of that awful smell of bad breath, body odor, and cheesy poofs that followed Cartman around. Then, however, he felt the hot breath in his ear. "You're gonna be sorry you did that. I was gonna be nice to you, but now I think I'm just gonna make you hurt, how about that? I think that would be fun."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny felt something hard pressing against his ass and felt his body automatically tighten against the intrusion. He knew that the smartest idea was to force himself to relax to try to minimize the pain, but all of his instincts were telling him to fight, to keep Cartman out at any cost. It didn't matter, though. Cartman was leaking like a faucet, and eventually that was enough that he could force his way inside despite Kenny's unintentional whimper of protest./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""You like to pretend to be all stoic and silent, but I know what you are deep down, Kenny," he said gleefully, slowly guiding himself in at first, pushing until he was in all the way. "Don't be afraid to make all the noise you want for me."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny grit his teeth against the pain, but when Cartman began to move he felt like he was being torn apart inside and the pain made him want to cry out. It took everything he had to press his face into the carpet and keep himself quiet, only groaning into the carpet when it really stung. His silence seemed to piss off Cartman even more, and he felt the thrusts get harder and rougher. Something wet was running down his thighs. Something else wet welled at the corners of Kenny's eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't cry for Cartman, not ever./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He felt something make its way between his legs, and it took him a moment to realize it was Cartman's sweaty, pudgy hand he felt wrapped around his dick. Immediately he tried to pull away, but then he remembered the action was completely useless. "The fuck are you doing?" He asked, turning his head slightly to look at Cartman. His captor laughed. "I told you you're gonna like it, even if I have to make you like it." He stroked Kenny's dick in time with his thrusts, and the blond was getting hard from the attention despite himself. This made him a little nauseous, but he forced himself to ignore it. He wasn't going to let Cartman win. He could hold out longer, he was sure of it. He had way more experience than Cartman did, that much was true./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"But even if he could hold himself back, nothing could stop the pain. Sure, he'd felt worse pain, he felt worse pain nearly every time he died, but this was a special kind of pain. Each thrust brought with it more ripping and tearing, until suddenly it didn't, and Kenny was sure this was only because he was bleeding enough for Cartman to move easily inside him. He felt another wave of nausea and forced it back. He didn't know what Cartman would do if he threw up, but he didn't imagine it would be good. So he forced himself to stay calm, breathing as deeply and evenly as he could in his current position. It wasn't easy with his face in the carpet, but he was managing. Cartman didn't like that. He didn't want Kenny to have any escape. He grabbed a fistful of blond hair and tugged, pulling the boy's head up out of the carpet and allowing him to breathe again. Kenny gasped for air despite himself, but Cartman was still on top of him, and his weight stopped him from taking a full breath./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""Come on, Kenny," the fat boy murmured in his ear. "You like it, admit it. You're trying not to, but we both know you're liking my cock in you, huh? Whores love cock, any cock they can get."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny bristled at being called a whore again, trying to throw Cartman off. His actions only served to annoy his attacker further, and Cartman shoved him back into the floor. "Why don't you fucking learn, Kenny!?" He growled. "If you'd just stop fighting, you'd fucking enjoy it! I can be a very giving lover. And I'm not going to stop until you realize that, so you might as well just give up and fucking take it."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He knew that Cartman was telling the truth. He could feel it. Not that bullshit about enjoying it or being a 'giving lover', of course. He didn't know if Cartman even knew what the word lover meant. But he knew that Cartman meant what he said when he said he wasn't going to stop. He could be really stubborn. Granted, Kenny was stubborn as all hell, and proud, but right then he didn't feel any of those things. He just wanted Cartman to stop. So, he sank into the rug, closed his eyes, and stopped fighting./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman could feel when he stopped resisting and started moving faster, eager, and soon Kenny felt a pressure welling in his abdomen that made him feel another wave of nausea. He fought it, holding his breath, just waiting for it to be over. And then, suddenly, with a release of pressure that should have felt good but just made him feel sick, it was over. Cartman cried out, and Kenny felt wetness fill him. Cartman collapsed on top of him in sudden relief, and Kenny suddenly couldn't breathe. He started trying to push the heavy boy off of him, and Cartman seemed to finally get the hint and got up. He smirked down at Kenny, standing at the ready like he was expecting the little blond to spring up and start trying to fight him./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Instead, Kenny just gasped for breath, and then once he could feel his good arm again he pulled the hood of his parka back up and hid his head in it, closing his eyes. He could hear Cartman laughing despite the muffling effect of the fabric. When he didn't react, he felt a sharp kick in the side, forcing him into the fetal position. The pain mixed with his nausea nearly made him vomit, but he refused to let Cartman have that. He took a deep breath, trying to get his stomach under control. Above him, Cartman pulled up his pants, smirked, and said "you're welcome, Kenny," before casually strolling out the room./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"It was then, as soon as Cartman was gone, that Kenny's resolve crumbled, and he lay there sobbing into his parka. He couldn't stop, couldn't even get his breathing under control. Every sob brought with it a new wave of pain coming from where Cartman had kicked him, and his whole body throbbed with pain. He couldn't tell what might be broken and what wasn't broken - his whole body felt like one broken bone./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"It was nearly an hour before he could even work up the strength to move. He tried, at first, as soon as he got himself to stop crying, but the pain made it impossible. He vomited up what little was in his stomach when he tried, and his head spun. Part of him just wanted to lay there and die - he certainly felt like he was dying, it hurt just as much. But there was an even stronger instinct in him to just get up and run as far as he could from Cartman's awful smell, and eventually, that part of him won. He managed to pull himself up with his good arm, standing on trembling legs and using his bed to help support himself. He felt like he was going to pass out as soon as he stood up, and had to brace himself against the bed for what felt like another hour, but was really only a few minutes./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Eventually he managed to pull up his pants with his good arm, the one Cartman had twisted rendered completely unusable. Then he started to stumble out of his room, taking it slowly, leaning against the wall for support. Karen was in her room, and he moved as quietly as he could by her door so she didn't see him like this. His parents, if they were home, probably wouldn't even notice, but he didn't want to worry his sister./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"When he made it outside he stumbled suddenly, collapsing into the snow when he didn't have a wall to lean on anymore. He tried his best not to yell out - this was South Park, but somebody screaming at night might still draw attention, and he didn't want anyone knowing he was there. He dragged himself through the snow with his good arm, trying to ignore the numbness in his bare feet and the pain in his everything. There was only one place in South Park he ever felt safe, and right then it was the only place he could think of to go./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He knocked on the door with a trembling hand, wishing he was strong enough to knock harder. But he was lightheaded, and blackness was starting to creep into his vision. He wasn't going to last much longer./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"His last conscious thought as he reached out to knock again and collapsed into the snow in the process was em'please, Stan. Please be there.'/em/p
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p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px; text-align: center;"strongChapter One: Pain/strong/p
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p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"The cold, Colorado winds whipped in through the open window, bringing winter in with them to Kenny's room. The teenager shivered under his worn-out parka from where he sat cross-legged on his bed, hunched over the bong settled in his lap. He closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath of smoke, held it in as long as he could, and then leaned his head back against the wall as he let it out./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Keeping his window open was really only a formality for the sake of not having a room full of smoke – the house always smelled like pot, or meth, or vomit, or who knows what else. There wasn't a moment he could remember that his parents weren't drunk or high or both. He liked to tell himself that he didn't care, that his life had just always been like this and he was numb to it all by now, but as he set the bong down on the rug beside his bed, lay back and stared at the ceiling, he got the uncomfortable feeling that it still bothered him./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"emFuck this/emem,/em he thought to himself, reaching under his pillow for the dogeared, but still usable playboy magazines he kept hidden there. He'd probably gone through each one a thousand times, but he still always managed to find something in them that got him going. Granted, it wasn't particularly difficult to get him going. He was a teenage boy, with a libido even higher than most guys he knew. For years now he'd just been constantly horny. It gave him something to do, at least./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He stuck his hand down his pants, fishing his dick out as he started flipping through the magazine. He teased himself with just a finger and a thumb, enjoying the gentle stimulation as he looked for the picture that would get him hard this time. Eventually, however, he sighed and switched magazines, as the first didn't seem to be working. Maybe Busty Asian Beauties would work better./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He tried with that for a few more minutes before deciding that wasn't working and stowing the magazines back under his pillow. Pictures just weren't working for him lately. Unfortunately he didn't have a Wi-Fi connection, or a laptop on which to watch porn. He did, however, have the portable DVD player that Kyle had gotten him last Christmas, and a stack of pornos he'd 'borrowed' from his and Stan's dads./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He reached under his mattress for the DVD player, where he kept it hidden so his parents wouldn't find it if they were raiding his room for drug money, and pulled out one of the DVD, grinning when he saw it was one he hadn't seen yet. He popped it in and settled back as the stereotypical music started. There wasn't much of a plot, not that he'd expected one, but somehow the stereotypical skeleton plot of two blonde bimbos who ordered a pizza but couldn't afford it and paid for it with sex got him hard anyway, and soon he was stroking away to the exaggerated moaning of the girls double-teaming that one guy./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Actually, what was really getting him was those fabulous abs. He'd have to figure out who that pizza guy was later, because he had fantastic abs. Kenny was a sucker for a nice set of abs on a guy - he'd used to be proud of his, before starvation and malnourishment had fed on any muscle he'd had. He just really liked watching them move, it set a fire in his groin like he couldn't believe./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He was starting to feel warm despite the open window, so he pulled down the hood of his parka so that he could breathe in the cold air. He groaned in pleasure as he did so, turning toward the window. When he did, he froze./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""C-cartman!?" He squeaked./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"His former friend was looking in his window, watching him, just staring at him. Kenny scrambled to cover himself with his blanket, and Cartman scowled. "Hey, what are you doing covering up?" He said, trying to pull himself up through the window. Kenny scowled, pulling up his pants and flipping Cartman off. "Fuck off, fatboy. I told you years ago to stop getting all fucking creepy with me and now you're looking through my fucking window!? Get out of here, shitbag!"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman ignored him, instead dropping down from the open window with a thud and quite calmly leaning against the wall. Kenny could see a bulge in his pants. "Gross, dude." He growled. "Get the fuck out of here and I won't tell anyone you're being all faggy, alright? The fuck do you want, anyway?"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman smirked, and Kenny could see he had a few new missing teeth. Clearly his hygiene hadn't improved. "What do I want? I fucking want you, dipshit." He answered, approaching the bed. Kenny felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck and he got to his knees, quickly trying to untangle himself from his blanket. He didn't trust being alone in a room with Cartman, not the way Cartman had been ever since they'd stopped playing with him when they were kids. "Dude," he said quickly, stalling, "I fucking told you, I'm not into you like that. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to tell you."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman glared at him, clearly not satisfied with that answer. "You and I both know that isn't true, Kenny." He said. "You whore yourself out all the time to pretty much anyone, how come you don't want me so bad, huh!? Clearly you're just racist against fat people." He casually walked in front of the door, leaning against it and blocking that route of escape./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny had to laugh at that. "Yeah, okay, I'm definitely the racist one in this room. Not the guy who tried to wage war against the Jews, but me. Fuck off, Cartman, I'm not going to fuck you. It's just getting pathetic." He turned to get out of bed and climb out the window, since just being in the same room with Cartman alone was making his skin crawl, when he suddenly heard a cry of fury from the other side of the room. Maybe calling him pathetic had gone a bit too far in pissing him off./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He tried to leap off of the bed but felt a sudden weight on top of him that sent him (and his DVD player) crashing to the floor. There was a sharp pain radiating through his arm and he couldn't stop himself from crying out. "FUCK! That fucking hurts!" He shouted. "I think you broke my fucking wrist! Get off of me!"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Above him, Cartman chuckled. "Now," he said. "You be a good little Kenny and don't fight back, and I won't have to break any more of your brittle little bones." Naturally, Kenny immediately started trying to throw him off, fighting through the pain, but it was like he was trying to throw a pile of bricks off of him. He'd beaten Cartman in fights before, of course, but that was when they were kids playing superheroes, when Kenny still had muscle, before his mother had lost her job washing dishes at the Olive Garden, before Cartman had learned to throw his weight around to his advantage. Now he was nearly three times Kenny's size, and the smaller boy could barely breathe beneath his weight, let alone hope to throw him off./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""Fine," he sighed. "I'll suck you off if you get off of me. You're fucking crushing me, Cartman."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman laughed and shoved him against the floor, holding his head down with one hand and starting to pull his pants down with the other. "I gave you plenty of chances to do this consensually and you still fought me. No, no, I'm going to show you what you've been missing, Kenny. And you're going to love it, you little whore."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""Stop calling me that!" Kenny shouted, twisting himself out of Cartman's grip and trying to get to his feet so he could run. Unfortunately his only reward came in the form of Cartman grabbing him again and shoving him against his nightstand. He cried out again, feeling another sharp pain, this time starting from his shoulder as he hit the nightstand. While he was reeling from the impact, Cartman rolled him onto his back and forced his pants and boxers down to his knees. He pressed his arm against the smaller boy's neck, and Kenny looked up at him like he was seeing Cartman for the first time./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""Now," he said, looking angry and out of breath. "Are you going to be a good Kenny and stop fighting, or are you going to make me break more of your bones?"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny glared up at him. Then he spat in Cartman's face. "You're gonna have to kill me first," he growled. Furious, Cartman punched him in the jaw, then turned him roughly onto his stomach, shoving his face into the carpet and pinning his arms behind his back. Kenny almost viewed this as a positive change. At least he could breathe in the dust in the carpet instead of that awful smell of bad breath, body odor, and cheesy poofs that followed Cartman around. Then, however, he felt the hot breath in his ear. "You're gonna be sorry you did that. I was gonna be nice to you, but now I think I'm just gonna make you hurt, how about that? I think that would be fun."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny felt something hard pressing against his ass and felt his body automatically tighten against the intrusion. He knew that the smartest idea was to force himself to relax to try to minimize the pain, but all of his instincts were telling him to fight, to keep Cartman out at any cost. It didn't matter, though. Cartman was leaking like a faucet, and eventually that was enough that he could force his way inside despite Kenny's unintentional whimper of protest./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""You like to pretend to be all stoic and silent, but I know what you are deep down, Kenny," he said gleefully, slowly guiding himself in at first, pushing until he was in all the way. "Don't be afraid to make all the noise you want for me."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny grit his teeth against the pain, but when Cartman began to move he felt like he was being torn apart inside and the pain made him want to cry out. It took everything he had to press his face into the carpet and keep himself quiet, only groaning into the carpet when it really stung. His silence seemed to piss off Cartman even more, and he felt the thrusts get harder and rougher. Something wet was running down his thighs. Something else wet welled at the corners of Kenny's eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't cry for Cartman, not ever./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He felt something make its way between his legs, and it took him a moment to realize it was Cartman's sweaty, pudgy hand he felt wrapped around his dick. Immediately he tried to pull away, but then he remembered the action was completely useless. "The fuck are you doing?" He asked, turning his head slightly to look at Cartman. His captor laughed. "I told you you're gonna like it, even if I have to make you like it." He stroked Kenny's dick in time with his thrusts, and the blond was getting hard from the attention despite himself. This made him a little nauseous, but he forced himself to ignore it. He wasn't going to let Cartman win. He could hold out longer, he was sure of it. He had way more experience than Cartman did, that much was true./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"But even if he could hold himself back, nothing could stop the pain. Sure, he'd felt worse pain, he felt worse pain nearly every time he died, but this was a special kind of pain. Each thrust brought with it more ripping and tearing, until suddenly it didn't, and Kenny was sure this was only because he was bleeding enough for Cartman to move easily inside him. He felt another wave of nausea and forced it back. He didn't know what Cartman would do if he threw up, but he didn't imagine it would be good. So he forced himself to stay calm, breathing as deeply and evenly as he could in his current position. It wasn't easy with his face in the carpet, but he was managing. Cartman didn't like that. He didn't want Kenny to have any escape. He grabbed a fistful of blond hair and tugged, pulling the boy's head up out of the carpet and allowing him to breathe again. Kenny gasped for air despite himself, but Cartman was still on top of him, and his weight stopped him from taking a full breath./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;""Come on, Kenny," the fat boy murmured in his ear. "You like it, admit it. You're trying not to, but we both know you're liking my cock in you, huh? Whores love cock, any cock they can get."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Kenny bristled at being called a whore again, trying to throw Cartman off. His actions only served to annoy his attacker further, and Cartman shoved him back into the floor. "Why don't you fucking learn, Kenny!?" He growled. "If you'd just stop fighting, you'd fucking enjoy it! I can be a very giving lover. And I'm not going to stop until you realize that, so you might as well just give up and fucking take it."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He knew that Cartman was telling the truth. He could feel it. Not that bullshit about enjoying it or being a 'giving lover', of course. He didn't know if Cartman even knew what the word lover meant. But he knew that Cartman meant what he said when he said he wasn't going to stop. He could be really stubborn. Granted, Kenny was stubborn as all hell, and proud, but right then he didn't feel any of those things. He just wanted Cartman to stop. So, he sank into the rug, closed his eyes, and stopped fighting./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Cartman could feel when he stopped resisting and started moving faster, eager, and soon Kenny felt a pressure welling in his abdomen that made him feel another wave of nausea. He fought it, holding his breath, just waiting for it to be over. And then, suddenly, with a release of pressure that should have felt good but just made him feel sick, it was over. Cartman cried out, and Kenny felt wetness fill him. Cartman collapsed on top of him in sudden relief, and Kenny suddenly couldn't breathe. He started trying to push the heavy boy off of him, and Cartman seemed to finally get the hint and got up. He smirked down at Kenny, standing at the ready like he was expecting the little blond to spring up and start trying to fight him./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Instead, Kenny just gasped for breath, and then once he could feel his good arm again he pulled the hood of his parka back up and hid his head in it, closing his eyes. He could hear Cartman laughing despite the muffling effect of the fabric. When he didn't react, he felt a sharp kick in the side, forcing him into the fetal position. The pain mixed with his nausea nearly made him vomit, but he refused to let Cartman have that. He took a deep breath, trying to get his stomach under control. Above him, Cartman pulled up his pants, smirked, and said "you're welcome, Kenny," before casually strolling out the room./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"It was then, as soon as Cartman was gone, that Kenny's resolve crumbled, and he lay there sobbing into his parka. He couldn't stop, couldn't even get his breathing under control. Every sob brought with it a new wave of pain coming from where Cartman had kicked him, and his whole body throbbed with pain. He couldn't tell what might be broken and what wasn't broken - his whole body felt like one broken bone./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"It was nearly an hour before he could even work up the strength to move. He tried, at first, as soon as he got himself to stop crying, but the pain made it impossible. He vomited up what little was in his stomach when he tried, and his head spun. Part of him just wanted to lay there and die - he certainly felt like he was dying, it hurt just as much. But there was an even stronger instinct in him to just get up and run as far as he could from Cartman's awful smell, and eventually, that part of him won. He managed to pull himself up with his good arm, standing on trembling legs and using his bed to help support himself. He felt like he was going to pass out as soon as he stood up, and had to brace himself against the bed for what felt like another hour, but was really only a few minutes./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"Eventually he managed to pull up his pants with his good arm, the one Cartman had twisted rendered completely unusable. Then he started to stumble out of his room, taking it slowly, leaning against the wall for support. Karen was in her room, and he moved as quietly as he could by her door so she didn't see him like this. His parents, if they were home, probably wouldn't even notice, but he didn't want to worry his sister./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"When he made it outside he stumbled suddenly, collapsing into the snow when he didn't have a wall to lean on anymore. He tried his best not to yell out - this was South Park, but somebody screaming at night might still draw attention, and he didn't want anyone knowing he was there. He dragged himself through the snow with his good arm, trying to ignore the numbness in his bare feet and the pain in his everything. There was only one place in South Park he ever felt safe, and right then it was the only place he could think of to go./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"He knocked on the door with a trembling hand, wishing he was strong enough to knock harder. But he was lightheaded, and blackness was starting to creep into his vision. He wasn't going to last much longer./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 11.199999809265137px;"His last conscious thought as he reached out to knock again and collapsed into the snow in the process was em'please, Stan. Please be there.'/em/p