Author's Note: I warn you, this is not a light read. This is going to be intense, very graphic, very grotesque and honestly I'm nervous posting it on here. However, it's going to be an incredible story... and it won't be all bad. It won't just be Butters and Kenny either. The plan is to have Kyle, Stan, Cartman, Craig, Tweek, Bebe, Wendy, Token, Clyde, and various family members in this as well. They may not all fit, but it's the plan. So far the first five that were listed have been fit in, as well as Karen.
Past tense means it happened in the past. Present tense means present. It's not just a weird thing happening.
Note: I will be writing some of these scenes.
Another note. There is a trigger warning for this chapter. There will pretty much be a trigger warning for every chapter so there's no point in me pointing it out. Just be forewarned.
"There is something about you," Kenny's boss Jonny said as he stared with lewd eyes at the boy across from him as he wiped off his makeup. "Something about your passion that stands out to me."
The fifteen year old laughed and turned to face the middle aged man.
"Yeah," Kenny replied, tucking his costumes into his duffel bag. "I need the tips."
Jonny laughed and put an arm around the small boy's shoulder. Kenny could smell the cheap liquor and chew tobacco on his breath.
"You're my best dancer," Jonny began, "we all know it. How 'bout... I propose you a deal." Kenny looked up at the heavy set man with genuine curiosity. Most of his nights ended like this anyway. "I'm moving to California and I want you to go with me. There is a friend of mine who has seen you perform... and let's just say he's very interested in what you have to offer. Many of his dancers make their way in the acting and modeling world. Think about it, Ken, you can bring in more money for your sister- in fact, she could even come with you!"
Kenny was silent as he mulled over Jonny's words. He could go to California and strip for the high rollers before bedding them; he shivered at the thought of how much he could make in just an hour with one of them. He could bring so much more money in for Karen and the rest of his family. Maybe he could even go to college... if he kept up his studies.
All he knew was he had to do this. There was no way he could pass up this opportunity. For now he simply had to go home, pack his clothes, and leave Karen a note.
"Okay," Kenny agreed with a small smile. He watched as Jonny poured him a drink and handed the crystal glass to him. His small hands clutched the fine glass and clinked it with Jonny's as a toast to whatever this was he was about to do. It had to be good though. Kenny watched as Jonny took a sip of the drink and followed suit.
It tasted salty.
42 lurches forward and barely has time to turn his head before he vomits out the contents of his stomach. He managed to eat half a pizza tonight; he was still cherishing the melted cheese and warm dough. Hot food was foreign. Because of the gracious offering for whatever reason, he was going to try even harder, love his sires more, and be grateful as Master threw him in the basement, down the stairs to curl up in his bed that was nothing more than an old stained sheet on the cement ground.
The acrid taste of vomit doesn't sit well in his throat. He gags and heaves but his stomach is empty; nothing more than organs, acid, and bodily fluids that weren't necessarily his sit and fester in his body.
He was being rewarded tonight. Before being shut downstairs, Master told him he had done well for the night. Especially considering how old he was. Soon his figure wasn't going to be desired. Soon he was going to be too damaged to be of service. Soon no one was going to ask for him, and then he would be put down. Part of him was anxiously waiting the day he would finally give out and feel the calm relief of a bullet in his brain. He was growing tired of the same motions, and of being caged. But he was too far gone to try and fight again. The last time he did...
But seeing that face brings him to this new breaking point. Hearing that voice is beginning to remind him of a past he didn't have. He is nothing. No one. He isn't even he. He is It. And It is 42. And why can't it be number 1?
Master reminds him nearly every night he was abandoned. Master had saved him and loves him more than anyone; despite how hard he puts up a fight. Why does he fight against the one who loves him? He was bad and undeserving of such affection and compassion. Why does he try to run? There is no life out there for him. He is nothing. And he deserves the wounds he has. He goes against Master and the love he offers him. A little bit of temporary pain is his punishment for trying to abandon the one person who cares for him.
42 keeps his cheek to the floor and lays there. His body shudders as he fights off the chill in the dark basement. The door above bursts open and his eyes sting at the flash of light before everything grows dark once more. He can't see anything but the flashlight in the hands of his Master. It has to be his Master. He was good tonight and when he's good he gets to spend the night with him. Sometimes upstairs, even.
"Were you good tonight?" He bites his tongue as he hears Master speak. That isn't the good tone. What did he do? He didn't try anything. "Answer me."
"Yes," he manages, before biting his cheek as a sharp blow causes a crunching noise in the back of his head. His vision blurs and his stomach swims with nausea once more.
"That's not what I heard." 42 covers his mouth with his hand as he feels the sharp snap of a whip on his naked backside. "Who did you speak to tonight?"
"N-no one," he barely gets out before the whip slices into his stomach now. He flinches and doubles over yet remains silent. Making any noise right now would worsen this punishment.
"You're lying! Someone saw you, who was it?!"
"I-I don't know!" He shrieks, shaking to the core as he leans back on his hands. "M-Master, I don't know, I'm sorry I just did what I was told. Please... please don't-"
"Don't what?!" His voice booms off the walls. He watches as Master walks to the other side of the room, until he disappears in the darkness. "I told you not to disobey, pet. I'm tired of having to hurt you like this..."
42's eyes widen as he sees the object Master is holding. Although he tries his best not to move, he can't help but scramble back in fear as his ears ring from the high pitched ping from the metal rod as it taps against the floor.
"You were my favorite. And seeing you go against me time and time again breaks my heart. I don't want to have to do this to you. But you need to learn to be good; you are my slave, you are my pet. And when you misbehave you need to be punished. You hurt me, and you deserve to be hurt, don't you?" His eyes water yet the tears will not fall as he feels Master's hands on his feet. "Answer me, slave."
"Y-yes, Master."
"Good, very good."
His eyes close as he feels the cuffs tighten and bite on his ankles. The cold metal digs into his skin; if he so much as twitches, the rough metal will slice his flesh. He knows not to move a muscle. He doesn't even try to keep his thighs together as Master spreads his tiny legs, exposing his disfigured body to the man who did this to him. The man who says he deserves it.
He does deserve it.
"Open your eyes," Slowly he follows orders and bites back a scream as he sees the pole mere inches from his already abused hole. He had done enough tonight, he didn't say anything to anyone except what he was told to say. Why was he in trouble? Why did he have to go through this again?
"I-I-I..." he squeaks, voice catching as he feels Master's jagged fingers dig into his flesh before lifting his hips slightly. "I'm s-sorry, Master. I didn't say anything. I didn't talk to the pizza man I just did what I was told. I always do, I wouldn't disobey you, I love you. I love you so much, p-plea-" his mouth opens yet no noise tears from his throat as he feels the sudden impalement. He swears his insides rip and he feels blood trickle from his rectum as the metal rod that Master holds pulls out, and pushes back through. Farther. Deeper. Twisting his insides and wrecking him for what seems like the thousandth time.
It's cold and hot at the same time and he swears he tastes blood.
"You need to learn your lesson, I do this because I love you. Do you know that?" He isn't sure whether to nod or shake his head. How is this love? But what does he know about love?
He closes his eyes and sees the pizza man; he uncurls his fingers to reach for him.
He knows that face. He has seen it before. But who is he? Why... why did he say his name was Kenny? Who is Kenny? Kenny McCormick. Was that his name? He has no name. He has no face. Why would someone recognize him? Why did that pizza man look as if he had seen a ghost?
He isn't a ghost. He is nobody. No face, no name, nothing. He is nothing more than a number. Not the first, but the favorite. He is 42. He knows nothing else. No one else but his Master, his clients, his guards, and the others that have come and gone. 41 left three weeks ago according to the scratched tally marks he digs into the cement each night.
How long does he have?
"ANSWER ME, YOU SWINE!"
"Wh-wh..." he falters on his words as he feels the rod rip into him once more. "Wh-who am I?"
"You. Are. Nothing." With every word Master forces the pipe deeper into him. "You are no one. You're worthless to me, slave." He drives the metal into him one last time before ripping it out. He feels a river of blood rush from his insides and out onto his marred, broken flesh. "And you will die knowing not even I love you. I could never love you, you disgusting... thing. I'm done with you. Tomorrow you see your last client... if they'll want to buy you for half of what you're worth."
"M-Master, please..."
"Shut up." At that, a boot kicks into the side of his face. Another crack sounds in his head and his mind swims. He lets out a quiet hitch of breath and his eyes roll in the back of his head as consciousness slips from him. Before he falls away, he swears he sees the pizza man and can't help but shed a tear.