Rated M for strong language, self-harm, and intense and graphic depictions of gang-rape, torture, and humiliation.
Spoilers for: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney – Dual Destinies
"Fuck. He really is tight."
Simon felt his ass clench on its own around the intrusion, and a shudder tore through him. He convulsed, then flopped forward, straining the muscles in his shoulders. Mud mixed from tears and dirt stung his eyes as he lay on his face on the ground, and if he hadn't been gagged, he was sure he would have tasted the sharp, tangy bitterness of it, too. He was crying, though he didn't want to be, and his sobs were throaty and visceral, muffled by the fabric pushing his tongue down and his jaws apart. His ass felt hot and wet and broken, like someone had shoved a sword up there, cutting his insides and leaving him to bleed out through his hole. He didn't want to move – it would only aggravate the wounds - but his captor had his hands clamped over his hips and was shaking and shoving him to accommodate his own needs.
"Goddammit!" the man growled, and he speared Simon again with an inadvertent thrust as he moved to adjust him. "He's so fuckin' tight that it fuckin' hurts!"
He dragged himself back, and Simon quivered and moaned as the friction seared across his wounds. Something cool and sticky slipped from the man's sword and onto the back of his leg, and he didn't need to see it to know it was blood. He clenched his eyes shut, the mud trapped behind his eyelids burning them, and through tightly gritted teeth, he tried his damnedest not to whimper.
With barely a moment's reprieve, the man plunged back into him, and Simon's knees collapsed, leaving him clutched in the thick fingers at his sides. He struggled against the restraints around his wrists, but even the subtlest movements brought the edge of the wire deeper into his skin, and the bonds didn't give. Soon enough, his hands were damp and sticky, too.
I'm going to die, he thought, and his gag stifled another tortured moan as the man withdrew himself and then slammed in again. There will be no execution – I-I am going to be killed right here.
And he was overcome by the cold, dead void of despair.
His backside was slicked with blood and fluid. The man continued to pound into him, increasing his speed until Simon was groaning independently of the thrusts. His throat was sore and dry, and his mouth was heavy with the saliva-soaked cotton garment stuffed into it. Even so, he cried out, hoping, praying, for a guard, for anyone, to acknowledge him, to step in and stop this, to save him.
No – I don't want to die!
And then there was an explosion of hot fluid inside of him, and the sword was wrenched from his backside as he was dropped to the ground like a rag doll. The warm, thick liquid dribbled slowly out of him, moving down his buttocks before sliding onto the backs of his thighs. He could still feel some of it inside of him as it started to cool and dry there.
I don't want to die...
A stream of something caught him in the face then, just under his right eye, and slowly rolled down his cheek and onto his lips, then his tongue. It was salty and vile, but his gag kept him from spitting it out. The man who had ejaculated on him grabbed a fistful of his hair with one hand and proceeded to wipe his seed across his face with the other.
"That's how you should look, you fucking whore!" he snarled, slamming Simon's face back into the mud. "You should be proud to have my cum on your slutty pretty-boy face!"
Simon's chest was heaving, his shoulders trembling. He was suffocating, or hyperventilating, or maybe he was just dying.
I don't want...
Raped. He'd been raped. Was being raped. And nobody had stopped them. Nobody had stepped in to help him. They'd let it happen. No - they'd approved it, encouraged it, even, with their silence. And now he, Simon Blackquill, former prosecutor, now prisoner, wrongly convicted of murder, was slumped in the muck, half-naked, with his wrists mangled and tied behind him and his mouth sealed shut, tears staining his face and blood and cum smeared across his torn and beaten ass.
No... Kill me...
Someone dragged him up by the collar, forcing him onto his sore knees. A penis was thrust at his mouth while another inmate behind him undid his gag.
"Suck it, bitch," the man before him sneered. His boxers were removed from his mouth, but before he could relax, the cock was thrust between his aching jaws and forced to the back of his throat. He gagged as his head was pulled forward, and soon he was choking, running out of air, and he realized then that death would probably greet him quickly, mercifully if he was lucky.
So he closed his eyes and welcomed it.