Adrenaline Chapter 8, a starsky and hutch fanfic

WARNING - THE MIDDLE OF THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE. I HAVE PUT THAT PART IN ITALICS SO THAT YOU CAN AVOID IT IF YOU DESIRE. For the full version of that part, please see my website kirstywelsh1 .tripod .com

'What the hell did you do to him?' The angry doctor looked up at the two guards who'd brought Blue's semi conscious body into the small treatment room. 'He's scheduled to fight tonight and I can't withdraw him. Look at his side! D'ya think I have nothing better to do that patch up your mistakes?' Matwick tutted as the limp form was placed on the medical table and the ubiquitous straps were fastened in place.

Blue cracked open his eyes as the cold of the table sapped the residual warmth from his naked back. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to lie down comfortably without being restrained in some way and the thought of actually being able to curl up on his side on a bed and pull bed sheets and blankets over him was sheer luxury. He sighed and the breath brought flashes of pain through his side. He raised his head and looked down his body, seeing the new blue/black bruise decorating his left ribs. Seeing it brought more pain and as Matwick started his non-too-gentle examination he groaned, closed his eyes and felt the sweat prickle over his forehead and bridge of his nose.

He'd submit this time, because to do anything else hurt. But there would come a time when he'd rip this man's head from his shoulders just for the satisfaction of giving the doctor as much fear and pain as he'd given Blue. The drug had more or less taken over his system now, so that he no longer sought to think past the pain. Only extreme pain gave him sufficient clarity to try to remember what lay outside the white walls. That, and the memory of those ice blue eyes looking at him in the corridor.

What had the guy said? A name? St…Stark?…..no, Starsky! That was it – Starsky. The name meant something to him, but he felt so damned sore just at that moment that he didn't want to think; didn't want to try to remember, because the pain in his head would push him over the edge.

So Blue lay on the table as the doctor pushed and prodded. Matwick mumbled to himself as he worked, although he ignored Blue completely, treating him more as a piece of meat rather than a living breathing human being.

'Good for nothing guards! Don't they know how valuable this job is? Jeez! Look at the bruise. Needs an x-ray but I don't think anything's broken'.

He wheeled a portable x-ray machine over to the table and wedged a cold metal plate under Blue's back, finally acknowledging his presence.

'Hold your breath' he commanded and clicked a switch, taking the plate away a moment later and fiddling with the processing machine. Minutes later, he held the shiny black and white image up to the lightbox on the wall and tutted over the results.

'Damn! Cracked a rib. Shame, he was doing so well'.

He signalled for an orderly. 'Get him cleaned up and then bind his ribs up. Hot water will do him good. No exercise today, let him rest, he's fighting tonight'. Without a backwards glance at Blue, the doctor left the room.

The orderly called for backup and before they released the injured man from his restraints, they placed the heavy leather collar around his neck and buckled it securely. Blue felt the collar rub against his skin each time he breathed or swallowed and as the restraints were released from his wrists and ankles, he felt the tug on the chain attached to the collar and levered himself up with a groan. His side hurt with a vengeance and his head felt light and spacey as he recovered from the assault in the corridor. With no fight left in him, he wearily followed the two orderlies to the shower room.

At a nod from the man holding his chain, Blue undid the cord of his pants and stepped out of them, feeling vulnerable in his nakedness. He shivered involuntarily as he saw the two men's eyes look him over and they leered at him as he instinctively put his cupped hands down to protect his genitals from their gaze.

'OK pretty boy, not just yet' one of them said roughly, implying that in future Blue may need to do more than shower in the small bathroom. He shivered again.

They pulled him over to a shower stall and handed him a tablet of soap, fastening the chain of his collar to an eyelet in the tile wall and padlocking it in place.

'You've got 15 minutes'.

Tired almost beyond belief, Blue turned the faucet and stood under the cascade of hot water, letting it beat down on his shoulders and back. He leaned his outstretched hands wearily against the white tile wall and closed his eyes, soothed by the heat and the water and enjoying the small luxury of the shower. He felt pathetically grateful for the chance to feel comfortable and warm and even the smell of the soap made him happy as he started to methodically soap his bruised body. The lather stung at the myriad of small cuts across his torso and hands, but the small pains felt good, reminding him that he was alive and still a part of the human race. He soaped his hands and rubbed at his curly hair, ducking his head under the water stream again and holding his breath for as long as he could. For a moment he could forget he was a captive; forget he was a fighting machine and that with each injection the fire burned through his veins; could forget that he had no idea who he was or where he'd come from. The water soothed his mind as well as his body and for a few calming moments he enjoyed being pleasantly numb. Later he would worry about who he was and the future. For now he was just Blue 1, Wins 5

Too soon, the luxury ended as the orderly stepped forward and switched off the water, handing Blue a rough white towel. He rubbed away the water droplets shining in silver beads on the fur of his chest and roughly combed his fingers through his wet curly hair before towelling the rest of his body with a towel soon covered in smudges of blood. He handed it back to the orderly who handed him a clean pair of white pants and gratefully he put them on, feeling at once less vulnerable and alone. He stood stock still with his hands raised above his head as the man took several wide white bandages and started to wind them around his cracked ribs in a 10" loop of white hell. Between the tightness of the bandage and the confines of the collar, Blue felt as though he could hardly breath and a sudden wave of claustrophobia swept over him, leaving him pale and shaking. If the orderly noticed, he chose to ignore the discomfort of his patient and carried on with his task, enjoying the soft groans coming for the injured man.

Spinning his captive around one more time Guard #1 leered into the smoky, partially glazed eyes again.

'God, you look good enough to eat' he muttered, unhappy that his hands had no more chance to wander over the toned tanned body. Or had they?

'Check the door' he grunted at Guard #2. The man complied quickly with an appreciative grin on his face. – Great – more sport. He bolted the door and sauntered back to the semi naked man. Blue shivered at their approach and his frightened glance cast from one man t the next.

'What're ya doin?' he asked carefully. The chain connecting his bound arms to the collar around his neck clanked dismally as he shook and backed up against the tiled

'What're ya doin?' he asked carefully. The chain connecting his bound arms to the collar around his neck clanked dismally as he shook and backed up against the tiled wall.

Guard #1 reached for him and took hold of his shoulder, forcing the shivering man to his knees, the pain of the shoulder lock being too much for Blue to fight against. He knelt in front of the guards, his eyes focussed on the ground in front of his and the man's incredibly shiny boots.

In the silence in the bathroom, Blue heard the Guard open the button of his waistband and the small sound of the zipper being lowered. As he looked up he saw the guard bursting from his pants. He smelled the acrid scent of sex as the purple organ bobbed in front of his face and he looked away, sick understanding in his troubled eyes.

Guard #1 laughed. 'What's the matter pretty boy? Don't ya like the look of it? Want a closer look?' Blue kept his head facing sideways as he felt hands on either side of his head, grasping handfuls of his curly hair and yanking his head around until the huge cock was almost touching his nose.

'You know what to do. Gimme a good show' the standing man commanded pushing himself at Blues tightly closed lips. Blue pushed back as far as he could, the smell of the man making him sick to his stomach. The wiry pubic hairs tickled his nose and he refused to open his eyes. To do so would make the nightmare real – too much to bear.

'Open wide' Guard #2 mocked behind him. 'Aw…he don't wanna play!' he bent over and dug his fingers into the cracked bruised ribs on Blue's side. The effect was instantaneous and Blue let out a blood curdling scream in response to the agonising pain flooding his body. It was the moment Guard #1 needed and he stuffed himself into Blue's open mouth, cutting off the sound.

Blue felt as though he'd never have air again. The huge organ filled his mouth and touched the back of his throat making him gag again and again as the guard set up his rhythm pushing further and deeper with every stroke. Blue had no option but to try to accommodate the rape of his mouth, the saliva pooling beneath his tongue. He swallowed convulsively and the guard groaned above him.

'Oh yeah…oh yeah….do that again pretty boy.

The guards laughed as the bound man collapsed sideways onto the floor, cum trickling down his chin and from the sides of his mouth. Guard #1 zipped himself back up, looking hot and drained.

'Goddamn, he's the best cocksucker I've had for an age. Jeez! Your turn now?'

The second guard who'd been getting increasingly turned on by the show leered. 'Gonna nail that perfect little ass right now!'

Both men took a hold of Blue's body as the smaller man returned to consciousness. The sat him on his knees and untied the drawstring to his pants, pulling them down as Blue struggled weakly between them.

'Get the fuck away from me' he pleaded.

He was ignored as the guards set him back on his knees and forced his head down until his cheek was touching the cold tile floor. Guard #1 held him there by the simple mechanism of putting his booted foot on the chain leading from his collar as Guard #2 kicked Blue's knees further apart, lasciviously running his hands over the bent body

'Keep your fuckin' hands to yourself' he growled, trying to keep his voice level and calm. He felt anything but calm in that lewd and vulnerable position and had no way to stop the fingers from dipping ever so slightly into his ass. He grunted at the invasion, willing himself to just get through it and think of retribution later.

(for the unexpurgated version, please see my website at

Kirstywelsh1

dot tripod

dot com).

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The guards both fastened their zips and chuckled at each other and then gazed at the semi conscious man on the round. Roughly they slapped his face until the breathing deepened and the pain filled and terrified eyes opened. They pulled Blue to his feet as he flinched from their touch. With another tug on the chain, at the end of the "treatment", Blue followed the two orderlies back to his cell and as they removed the leather collar and manacles, he walked willing into the small white room, feeling safe, as though the impersonal space was now home. He hugged the secure feeling to him. In here he'd be left alone; he'd be safe. Exhausted from the attack, the "treatment" and the shower, he lay down on the bare floor, curled himself into as much of a ball as he could without hurting his ribs, and with the trickles of blood staining the seat of his pants, he drifted off into a dark sleep. Dreams of big blond men and shorter, fat black men chased themselves through his subconscious and in his sleep, Blue's face cracked into a small smile, whimpering in his sleep at the comforting memories.

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The doorbell rang and Mary checked herself in the mirror, tweaking a stray curl and running her finger over eyebrows. She took a deep breath and opened the door, smiling broadly at Adam.

'You look gorgeous honey' he said, standing back to take a proper look at his lady.

She blushed, still unused to his gentlemanly ways and twirled so that he got the full effect of her long, flowing skirt and peasant style white blouse. 'Well thank you kind sir' she smiled as he led her down to his deep maroon sports car. He opened the door and she sank into the luscious interior. Hesitantly she cleared her throat.

'Adam, do we have to go back to that place again tonight?'

His smile faded a little. 'Mary, we talked about this last night. I like it, and I won a lot of money. Just tonight huh? Just this once. Tomorrow we'll go to the movies'. He started the engine as thought the statement was final and Mary leaned back in her seat with a sigh.

All the previous night and all that day she'd been haunted by the memories of that big blond man in the arena and still she couldn't figure out where she'd seen him or how she knew him. Maybe all the coke from her "beautiful people" days had killed off too many brain cells. It niggled at her, but she was still uncertain about going back to the fighting club. She'd argued with herself all day about it. On the one hand she desperately wanted this relationship with Adam to work. She felt fate owed her a little good luck. But on the other hand she hated the thought of watching the fighters again. She was a thoroughly gentle woman and the sight of the blood and bruises was the biggest turn off she could imagine. Finally, and angrily, she'd concluded that she was a selfish little witch and that she wanted to see Adam. And if that meant more fighting, she'd have to bite the bullet.

She watched the bright lights of the down town buildings flash past as Adam whisked her towards the club, excitedly telling her about how much he was going to win and what beautiful things he was going to buy her with his money. She smiled and nodded, although her mind was not really on her boyfriend, it was still trying to remember the blond.

Drawing up in the parking lot, he trotted around to her side of the car and let her out, holding out his hand to help her up and solicitously he led her into the dimly lit club, waving a friendly hand at the doorman in passing.

Once again Mary found herself in the blue smoky room with its seats arranged in a tiered circle around the sandy-floored fighting pit. The room was filling up slowly, mostly with rich looking men, but with some women too, here for the spectacle of scantily clad and muscular men.

Adam showed her to a ringside seat and she sat and waited, sipping at her Bacardi and Coke and watching the seats around fill up. Adam had gotten them a programme and he handed it to her as he set off to place his bets for the evening. She read the details of the three fights scheduled.

Red 3 –v- Black 1

White 3 –v- Blue 1

Purple 1 –v- Black 2