Chapter 7
Night
Pogue lay in a small, cold room in Chase's basement. The only furniture in the room, if you could call it that, was a small, uncomfortable matress, a thin sheeet and a pillow in the corner of the room. Pogue was dressed in nothing but a pair of pants and he was freezing. He pulled the sheet around him as tight as he could, trying to warm up, but the thin sheet didn't help much against the cold. This was his fifth day here at Chase's house since the fight, and including the two days before, he had been here as Chase's "guest", as the guy liked to call it, for a grand total of seven days. A whole week of this hell. He was so weak he could barely stand up on his own. He'd given up trying to fight. Chase was way more powerful than him and he knew that if he fought, it would just make it worse for him, and there was no way he would win.
Chase would leave Pogue alone in this room with no food or water for hours, usually not giving him any lunch, and for breakfast and dinner he gave him only a piece of bread and some water. Once, when he tried to fight Chase, he didn't get any food at all for 3 days in a row. But that wasn't nearly the worst part of it. Nighttime was the time Pogue dreaded the most.
At 9:00 every night, Chase came to take Pogue up to his room. He pushed Pogue into the double bed and handcuffed his hands to the bedposts so he couldn't get away. Then he fucked him hard up the ass. And he didn't do it gently. He whipped him and hit him and kicked him so much and so hard he bled. Tonight, Chase seemed to be extra angry than he usually was and he kicked Pogue in the ribs so hard, he felt them break. It was the most painful thing he'd ever felt. It was hard for him to breathe since his chest was so bruised and broken. This went on for hours, usually 3 or 4, but tonight it went on for 6 hours. Before he finished, Chase gave one last hard push as a single tear trickled down Pogue's cheek.
