Sé que hace mucho que no subo nada acá, y que tengo muchos fics que ordenar y subir aquí también (estaba haciendo eso con el de Wangnan y no seguí porque, no sé XD), pero ya que terminé recién este cap de este fic de 2 caps, pos lo subiré aquí c: Esta primera parte es pura violación de mobs a Baam, btw. El segundo cap será más JinsungViole, y espero terminarlo pronto, porque también me tengo que empezar a preparar para la KhunBaam week 2024, que mañana ya puede que estén los resultados de la votación de los prompts D:
*****
Captive God
by RPMizu
Chapter 1: Broken
by RPMizu
Chapter 1: Broken
“...Here we go again.”
Baam comes out of bed and puts on a gown before leaving his room. He just took a bath, so it should be ok. He does not need to do anything else: the man likes to do the rest himself. The corridor outside is utterly dark and the few lights hurt Baam’s eyes a little bit. The metal door closing behind him, as always makes a sound similar to a prison cell. Well, that is what it is, really. This place is, indeed, a prison for him. And he is about to go to the punishment cell.
So Baam walks to his destination at a specially slow pace. He does not have any hurry. He puts his hand on the metal wall beside him, and lets the coldness of it numb his fingertips as he grazes it as he passes by. There is no one else in the corridors, and that is perfect. Even if his long bangs cover his eyes, Baam does not want anyone to see his face right now. He does not know what exactly would they see in it, but it certainly will not be anything pleasant. Because Baam knows he does not have any other options than going to that room yet again.
But even if he knows that very well, the same prison cell sound of the door leading to that man’s room still hurts Baam’s heart when he closes it behind his back. When he turns, there is that dimly lit room he has come to hate so much. And the man he hates even more is sitting on the large bed, with only a bathrobe covering his overweight body.
“You’re late, my boy.” The man pats the bed covers beside him, not breaking eye contact for even a mere second. “Come here, don’t make me wait longer.”
That disgusting tone makes Baam tremble, but he obeys as always, sitting by the man’s side while trying to avoid looking at the face with sweat dropping from its forehead. Baam does not want to stare at those toad-like eyes filled with lust.
“Even though you’ve been here many times,” the man speaks up again, filling the silence Baam hoped never ended. He takes a lock of Baam’s now long hair, and takes it to his lips, making Baam shiver uncomfortably. No, he does not want this man to see him vulnerable. So he does his best to remain unperturbed, as always. His Jue Viole Grace facade. “I still find it amazing, to have the chance to have a FUG God in my bed.”
Only because you are threatening my friends, you scumbag. And what FUG God? You don’t even treat me with the respect any human being deserves. Still, Baam remains silent, letting the other go on with his ramblings.
“Who are those people you want to protect so much, that you even let yourself be touched by someone you hate?” A moist hand takes him by the chin and forces Baam to face him. “I still remember the first time you were here. Your hair wasn’t as long and beautiful as it is now, and those bangs didn’t cover your innocent and frightened golden eyes…”
Now a tongue traces his left cheek and right beside his eye, and Baam has to fight the urge to gag at the disgusting sensation. Yet this is nothing. He knows the worst has not even started. “You were a delicacy, you know? Getting to take your virginity, when you didn’t even know what having sex was, was something I wouldn’t even have dreamt of.”
Disgusting, disgusting. That is the only thought that can cross Baam’s mind as the man continues to boast about how he abused Baam for the first time. Baam tries to shut himself off of his surroundings, so he can put no attention to the morbid details the man gives him about how that experience felt for him. Baam already knows exactly how it was, and it could not have been more horrible. He does not need to hear once again how the man reveled in his fear and humiliation.
“Oh, you still are a delicacy, of course. Experience has only made you sexier. You can now see me with eyes full of hatred, after all. And it’s… alluring.”
That foul mouth now claims Baam’s own, and once again he has to fight the gags as the man’s tongue explores the inside of his mouth freely. He wants to bite it off, but obviously he cannot. Even if his friends were not in danger, it would not be wise to anger a ranker when he is still regular-level, even if he is an Irregular and is growing stronger at an astonishing pace. It is still not enough… Not enough… I have to be stronger. These things are part of what Baam repeats on a loop when he is training. It seems like everyday he has a new reason to be stronger.
But the man does not let him focus on his anger and his desire to be stronger, and to forget about the nausea this provokes in him. Instead, the ranker pushes Baam unto the bed and starts touching everywhere beneath the only piece of clothing that still covers his body. Those clammy hands all over his skin are repulsive, there is no other way to describe it.
“Even though you train everyday, your skin is still perfect. Is it because you are an Irregular, and the shinsu loves you? Amazing…”
Baam shuts his eyes tightly, again trying to think about something else. He said he should not fight a ranker even if his friends were not in danger, but the truth is he would do it. If not for his friends, he would definitely do it, and die fighting if he must. He would rather die than be touched by this man. But his friends… for them, he would tolerate it. A lone tear runs across his cheek. He fights back the rest. He does not want to excite this man more by crying. At this point, after so many visits to this room, he knows crying only fires him up even more.
However, once again he is not allowed to let his mind wonder, as the only clothing he was wearing is taken away from him, and his skin is directly assaulted by a toad-like tongue. “N-No… Stop…” He tries not to make any noise, but those words escape either way. He does not want to let the man know he is afraid, nor that his actions are making him feel a tiny bit of… pleasure. He curses this body he cannot control.
“And you have such a well toned body. Your muscles are so pretty. You are looking more and more like a proper slayer candidate.”
As the man stares directly at Baam’s face, his tongue traces Baam’s abdomen slowly, leaving a trail of warm saliva behind, and then it moves to suck on one of his exposed nipples. Fortunately, Baam manages to bite his lower lip before any sound escapes from his mouth. He will not give the ranker the satisfaction, though he can feel a somewhat metallic taste pouring in.
“Ah, my boy, don’t do that to your lovely lips.”
Great, the only accomplishment for his action is the man now tracing his lips with his tongue. Well, at least he is not targeting his chest anymore. It is better if he only feels repulsion, and not that mixed with pleasure. It is best for his mental state and his sense of self-worth.
Because the actions of this man, although incredibly disgusting, at times manage to be somewhat pleasant too. The first time they had intercourse, the man explained that this act -sex, he had called it- is meant to make one feel good, even if your partner is someone you hate, so it was only natural for him to feel that way. However, with time the ranker seemed to change his mind. He started taking note of the reactions in Baam’s body, mocking him every time Baam let him know he is feeling even a tiny bit of pleasure. He has called him words Baam does not understand, but he is sure they are insults. But most important of all, the man looks so delighted every time that happens, that Baam feels the imperious need to not let him notice it, at least for the longest time possible.
“My boy, we need to prepare you thoroughly. You know what that means by now, right?”
Those toad-like eyes scan his whole body, which lies immobile beneath the man’s, like its some good for sale. And the man licks his lips like a toad too. Baam does not want to be disrespectful to the poor animals, but everything in this ranker reminds him of one, and it is repulsive. Of course by now he knows what he means, so his heart sinks when he hears those words and the man takes a little bottle out of his own clothes. He pours a bit of its contents on his hand, letting his sausage fingers soak in a nice smelling liquid. As he hears a distressing laugh, Baam shuts his eyes and waits for the intrusion in his body, as always.
However, even though he knew what it was going to happen and he mentally prepared for it, his still body acted on its own. Upon feeling a thick finger trying to make its way into his body, Baam threw a kick to the air, on pure instinct, and it unfortunately met its target: the stomach of the man above him. Not a second had passed for Baam to realize the gravity of this mistake. Still, it was too late. The blow came hard across his face, leaving a stinging pain and probably a purple bruise as well. He did not have time to react, even though he saw it coming. That reminded him what he already told himself when coming here: he cannot fight against a ranker yet. He is only stronger than the other regulars. Nothing more, nothing less. And it feels horrible to be so defenseless.
“Stupid child… Behave, and don’t make me hit you again.”
That guttural voice sends shivers down his spine, mainly because he does not want the man remembering he can do something to his friends if Baam gets too uncooperative. That, and he also does not want to stretch out this situation any longer. The man can decide he wants to take his sweet time with Baam before letting him go. He better behave like told, even if he is dying to just kick him in the balls.
So he nods slowly, forcing his body to relax against the sheets bellow. “Good boy.”
No, please, don’t say that. That phrase. This man already knows those words have an effect on him, but thank God he does not know why. Of course, Baam has not told him that those words are like a magic spell, that summons someone else into his mind.
“Baam…”
That melodious voice he yearns so much to hear, says his name inside his mind. The disgusting ranker in front of him turns into a handsome young man, with light blue hair and cobalt eyes that stare directly at him with deep affection, exactly as Baam remembers them. And Baam drowns in those cobalt eyes, letting his body relax even more against the bed sheets.
“Open up those legs for me, okay?”
In a trance, Baam nods slowly and does as he is told, completely ignoring the fact that it is not his dear Mr. Khun the one who said that just now. It does not matter. By now, Baam would do anything to make these horrible experiences more bearable, so it has become a habit to imagine Mr. Khun in this man’s place. However, every time Baam cannot help wondering... If Mr. Khun knew Baam was using his image for this, what would he think? Would he be disgusted? Just the possibility makes Baam’s heart sink.
After all, Baam himself has mixed feelings about what the ranker has called sex. On one hand, it is something nauseating, to do it with this man. But on the other hand, when Baam thinks about doing the same things with Mr. Khun… it is different. All the disgusting feelings clear up, and it not only becomes something that could feel good, but it also could make Baam feel happy, from the bottom of his heart. The thought of his body becoming one with Mr. Khun’s, to be so deeply connected to him, makes him happy. Maybe that is why it is so disturbing for Baam to do this with this man. No one would want to be so intimately connected with someone against your will, and with someone you hate. So imagining Mr. Khun in front of him, whispering to him, touching him, is the only thing that keeps him from going insane. Or maybe he has already gone insane for imagining him in the first place. He does not know, and he does not want to think about it right now.
Right now he has to survive this. So he closes his eyes when he feels that thick finger entering his body once again. This time, he is able to keep in check his reflexes. But even after taking in and letting out a big breath, and with all the oil smearing those fingers, the intrusion still feels kind of uncomfortable. It has been a while since his man had touched him, so long that Baam started hoping it would not happen again. Sadly, here they are again.
A moment passes by and more fingers are added to that first one, as the man notices he is growing used to it. They even start moving like scissors inside him, opening him up against his will. But the worst comes when the fingers take a turn upwards and touch a specific spot inside him, that is a little swollen. The intense sensation it provokes in Baam forces him to let out a gasp and then a pleasured sigh.
“Oh ho~? It seems you are starting to feel good, right? You really are a whore.” That word again, the one Baam has only heard from this ranker and he is sure it is an insult. Why else would it be said with such disdain? The fact that it also excites the man is not indicating of anything positive either. “As long as it brings you pleasure, it doesn’t matter who touches you, eh?”
No, that is not true at all. If that was the case, he would not feel such repulsion mixed with the forced pleasure. Shit, again he feels tears trying to come out. He keeps them in, by squeezing his eyes shut even more. No, he does not want this, not in the slightest. He is not a whore, whatever that means. He is not. Please, let this end quickly.
But because it does not, Baam knows he has to use his usual technique once again. So Baam allows his imagination to run wild. Now it is not the repulsive man the one that is towering upon him, but his beloved Mr. Khun. It is not the sausage-like fingers opening him up and assaulting his prostate, but long and slender fingers instead. And his strategy works. He is still rather quiet, but he is not trying to keep in his moans anymore. If it is Mr. Khun, Baam does not care if he hears them.
“God, you look so sexy when you give in...” Baam will not explain, of course, that is because he is hearing Mr. Khun’s tender voice and not the grossly excited baritone of this man. That is the only thing keeping him from breaking down. “Touch yourself, my boy. It is better if you come once.”
If Mr. Khun demands it, Baam would comply. Khun could tell him anything, and Baam would do it. So, even if the embarrassment mortifies him, Baam does as he is told: he takes his own penis into one of his hands and starts stroking it, as with the other hand he plays with one of his nipples. The touch is gentle and slow at first, but soon he picks up the pace, leveling it with the movement of those fingers inside him, which now go in and out in a frenetic but steady rhythm.
Through these events, Baam has grown aware that he likes when someone has power over him, when he feels dominated. But it is only when he himself allows it, when he bestows the right to dominate to another. And that someone, as he has come to know, has to be Mr. Khun. Baam has come to imagine all sorts of things he wants Mr. Khun to do to him if he ever has the chance. Not that he will, of course. Baam does not even know if he will see Mr. Khun again, let alone confessing his feelings to him, and it is even less possible that Mr. Khun returns those feelings. But still, Baam knows now that he wants to be commanded by Mr. Khun, he likes to be overpowered and under his control. He likes to be treated gently, excruciatingly so, just to be brought to the edge, and then be treated roughly, even a little violently, until he breaks in one orgasm after another.
...He hopes Mr. Khun would never know his innocent Baam has become like this. Maybe he is indeed a whore, as this toad calls him, whatever that means. Just the thought of Mr. Khun rejecting him for having these desires, breaks Baam’s heart in pieces.
He must not know, never.
The depressing thoughts are not letting him concentrate in the pleasure, so he casts them away, replacing them with Mr. Khun’s imaginary smile. Through eyes clouded with tears both from pleasure and sorrow, Baam sees a smile both reassuring and seductive, in front of him. And it calms the anguish inside his heart little by little, which allows him to get lost once again in the sensations assaulting his body.
Soon enough, his body contracts, taken over by waves of intense pleasure, until the bottled-up sensations explode, smearing his own hand in white liquid. Mr. Khun… However, and as always, feelings of a terrible emptiness get hold of Baam’s heart, as the trembles on his body subside and his breath fights to return to normal. It happens every time. That awful feeling of loneliness, a void in which his heart sinks. Because he is not here. Everything is just an illusion. And the only things that remain are this void, the dirtiness on his body, and the ugly man that stares at him like looking at a prize at an auction.
And now said man looks like he is barely refraining himself from jumping on top of him and devouring him. “It’s enough with this, right? Now you won’t resist. Gosh, I can’t wait to be inside you.”
That phrase breaks the already cracked illusion completely. His dear Mr. Khun would never make him feel good only so he could satisfy his own desires later. He would not dare to simply use Baam’s body for his convenience and disregard what Baam feels. Mr. Khun cares about him more than anyone. That certainty is what has kept Baam from falling into despair after being betrayed by Rachel and imprisoned by FUG. There is still someone who cares about him more than anyone, and that is Mr. Khun. He is the one he has to return to, even if he does not feel the same things Baam has come to feel about him.
But right now, there is not an ounce of strength left in his body, to resist what is about to happen. He just has to let it happen and pray for it to end soon. Maybe if he manages to gather a bit of strength, he could summon his imaginary Mr. Khun once more, but right now he cannot. So Baam allows the man to take him by the waist and make him almost sit on his lap, the tip of his disgusting penis rubbing against his quivering entrance.
And Baam can only cling to the corpulent body in front of him, when that pulsating piece of meat enters his body, forcing his inner walls open and leaving behind a burning ache. A gasp escapes his throat, followed by pained moans that adhere to the rhythm the man is trying to establish for his thrusts.
He cannot escape the grasp of those clammy hands, he cannot even stabilize himself on top of the man’s lap. His body is exhausted from the aftermath of that orgasm, and the pain and desperation he is feeling right now. He can only lean on the man’s shoulder. Still, the feeling of the fat covered in sweat that surrounds Baam’s body now is so nauseating that he chooses to focus on the pain instead.
Long minutes pass as the man penetrates his body to his heart’s content. And Baam just stays there, immobile and clinging to the other body for dear life, while hearing the pleasured groans the man emits, which make Baam want to vomit. Just hurry up and end this, please. But it does not happen that way. As a good ranker, the man has plenty of stamina, so the process is lengthy and agonizing, as it always is. Baam can feels his insides burn with each thrust. At least they are not torn up, as it was the first time he was with this man.
“This! This is perfect! Being inside you is a dream come true!”
The panting in those words only makes them more repulsive in Baam’s ears. He can only bite his lower lip so no sound comes across. And endure. Wait until is over. Nothing more.
After many creepy compliments and the pace quickening steadily, Baam can sense the man is close. A few more firm thrusts, ragged breaths against his ear, and then the man stops moving, as his clammy hands squeeze Baam’s hips and spurts of hot liquid fill his insides. Baam thankfully manages to control the gags that assault his throat at the nauseating sensation, before collapsing on the man’s shoulder, trembling lightly.
But it is not over. Baam knows it very well, and the man knows it too. As he thought before, rankers have lots of stamina. Grabbing Baam’s waist once again, the man moves them on top of the bed, so he can lay down and Baam can remain sitting on his lap. Then he slaps Baam’s ass, taking him by surprise and making him let out a muffled gasp.
His guttural snickering makes Baam shiver. “Move, my boy. Move those heavenly hips of yours and satisfy me.”
Baam’s throat fights to let pass the saliva that built up inside his mouth. This bastard is trying to humiliate him again, but Baam knows better now. As long as their bodies do not touch too much, Baam can use his usual strategy to forget what is really happening and lose himself in the illusions his mind summons. He will be able to see Mr. Khun once again.
“On… On one condition.” The man seems intrigued by his insolence, so he only raises an eyebrow and he lets him continue talking. “Y-You cannot touch me, okay? Just lay there and let me do the work.”
That unnerving laugh once again, but thankfully the man agrees to his idea. “Okay, as long as you do well, I won’t touch you. You have a deal.”
Baam nods slowly and proceeds to adjust himself on top of the man. He has to not touch him, that is all he has to do. Otherwise, the illusion will break. Slightly inclined on top of the FUG ranker, Baam supports himself with his hands on the bed, at both sides of the corpulent body beneath him. That piece of meat is still inside his ass, now a little flaccid after the intense orgasm the man experienced. At least he will not have to make it enter, that would be even worse.
Let’s get this done with. Baam closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. In desperate situations, the power of the mind is really amazing. When his eyes open, the man is no longer there. In his place, there is a slim body with white skin. Silky hair cascades upon the sheets, in waves of light blue. And those cobalt eyes stare intensely at him, with the same desire that seductive smirk conveys.
Mr. Khun…
“Come on. Move your hips.” That hated voice gets replaced too, with the one Baam wants to hear the most.
Baam nods once again, trying to control the desire that is starting to build up inside him now that Mr. Khun is in front of him. Because of that, he is ready to obey the command that was given to him, and any that Mr. Khun orders. Baam cannot disappoint him. He has to satisfy Mr. Khun. So he starts rocking his hips, trying to get an adequate rhythm. However, the action makes him lose his head little by little. The feeling of having Mr. Khun inside him makes him crazy. It feels so good… What would Mr. Khun think, if he saw him like this? Baam does not want think about that right now. Not the reality of it, at least. He prefers to drown himself in his fantasies. And in them, Mr. Khun looks at him with a mix of affection and pure lust.
“God, you are great… It feels so good to be inside you.” The voice of the man once again gets replaced by that melodious voice Baam misses so much. “I want to touch you… To bite those appetizing nipples that move up and down…”
“N-no…! You, you can’t touch me, remember? T-That was the deal.”
Baam’s voice comes out airy and shaky. Part of it is because of the excitement that is building up inside his body. But the other part is out of fear. If the man touches him, the illusion will be broken. Jeez, it is cracking a little just by thinking about it. He knows this is not real. Just let me end it like this, before the image of Mr. Khun goes away…
But it is not possible. “I can’t take it any longer…!”
The fantasy is broken to pieces when the man grabs Baam’s hip with one meaty hand, a sensation that is obviously not from Mr. Khun’s touch, and that takes Baam forcefully back into the harsh reality. With the other hand, the man grabs Baam’s chest and pinches his right nipple in the process. The assault makes Baam lose his stability and he has to place both hands on top of the ranker’s bulged abdomen. Gross, so incredibly gross. The penis inside him does not give him pleasure anymore, at least not without pain and humiliation mixed together. The man moves his hips upwards, making Baam jump on top of him. And Baam keeps moving his hips too, picking up the pace and trying desperately to make the man climax as soon as possible. Please, let this end quickly…
But then again, rankers have lots of stamina. So Baam is the first one to come against his will. Even though he is feeling awful inside, that damned masochistic side of him still lets him feel a bit of pleasure, among the pain that this act also provides. After climaxing a second time, exhaustion gets hold of Baam’s body and he is forced to lay on top of the ranker’s chest, which is covered in a gross layer of sweat and a bit of his own cum. As he fights to recover from the intense sensation and even his own breath, the man keeps pounding inside of him, moving Baam’s hips at will and using his body to pleasure himself. As if Baam is just a sex doll he uses as he pleases. And Baam does not have the strength nor the will to fight back. Just end this, please…
The nauseating sensation of being filled up with the ranker’s semen makes Baam gag once again. The only thing Baam can think of right now is that he imperiously needs to take a bath. He needs to scrub off the touch of this man, his sweat, the saliva he is scattering with his kisses, across his neck and chest. And of course, the warm semen inside his twitching ass. With that hope, Baam gathers his remaining strength and sits up, avoiding looking at the man bellow him, out of disgust and also a bit of shame, and steadies himself on the man’s lap, intending to stand up and leave this place.
However, and just as he should have thought, the man does not let him escape.
“Hey, it’s still too soon, my boy. The night is young, and you should look forward to it. There is still…” The man pushes Baam down, against the bed once more, and he positions Baam’s legs on top of his own shoulders. “plenty of time.”
“N-no… Let me go, please…!”
The man starts rocking his hips once again, not even exiting his body for a second, so the disgusting warm liquid gets plugged inside Baam’s ass. Unwelcomed, there is nothing worse than the feeling of that unwelcomed piece of meat assaulting that spot inside him that makes him lose himself. It is painful, it is clear that tomorrow Baam will feel incredibly sore and maybe even bleed a little bit. But the unwilling pleasure it causes is far worse than the pain. And the sounds that are escaping through his parted lips, although mostly quiet, reflect that miserable duality. Tears of shame and disgust for himself come down Baam’s cheeks.
“Perfect. You are perfect, my slayer candidate. And you are mine, all mine, only mine…” The guttural voice just makes it worse. The man pounds into him like crazy, and both the sounds of hips slapping against each other and the ones Baam lets out turn up in volume inevitably. “That’s right, moan for me, those delicious moans of yours… It feels good, right? Even though you hate it so much. You have the body of a bitch, after all.”
There, the words Baam does not completely comprehend, but at least knows are insults, and that it has to be with him feeling pleasure against his will. Did he not say that it was natural to feel good when having sex, even if you hated your partner? Then why that word? Why insult him and humiliate him like this? Baam shakes his head at the obvious contradiction. What does it matter, when everything about this is already so terrible?
To top it all, the man even seems to want to take his time, as he slows down at times, setting an uneven rhythm that makes Baam want to die even more. Just end this, you piece of garbage. But just as Baam puts his guard down, the ranker speeds up again, clearly in an intention of making him both lose his head, and lose control over the sounds he was managing to keep in, or at least at a quiet volume.
“Good, good… You are so good, little Viole…”
His knuckles feel numb now, as he was clenching them all this time. On contrast, his legs and waist feel sore, begging for a short rest. Trying not to think about anything besides the pain, just to shut down the pleasure he hates feeling by this man’s hand, Baam locks his eyes on the way his legs dangle on top of the ranker’s shoulders, like they are pendulums. Then, Baam concentrates in his own breath, the way his own chest goes up and down as he has to take in air much faster than usual due to the fatigue the man is making him suffer from. And he clenches his fists once more, as he makes his own voice even quieter than before. He will not give anymore satisfaction to this man.
Still, the ranker does not seem to mind. He is too lost in his own bliss. After a few more thrusts, the man climaxes once again, but this time he thankfully pulls out. Well, maybe it is not a good thing, since now Baam has to bear with the feeling of those shots of semen landing on his own belly, sticking to his shiny skin. And he ended up in such an embarrassing pose too. Ass in the air, as the man just now lets go of his legs. His still dilated entrance is exposed in front of the ranker, who looks at it directly, eyes still filled with lust and malice.
“...You are so pretty, my boy.” The ranker manages to say through his ragged breaths, eyes wandering all over Baam’s naked body and a hand brushing off the long locks of hair out of his face. “Such a cute expression you have there. Your usually cold eyes are filled with so much emotions…”
At those words, Baam cannot help adverting his face, so the man would not continue reveling in the hatred, the shame, and whatever other emotions that are reflected in his eyes right now. The man just snickers, though, at his futile attempt to not be seen like meat for consumption. And he continues talking, even through his unsteady breathing, much to Baam’s dismay.
“Hehehe, you look adorable, wasted like that. Even after… all this time, I can’t believe the luck I have… to have you on my bed, and fuck you… to my heart’s content.”
Swallowing the disgust his compliments cause in him, Baam focuses his eyes on the ceiling and tries to shut off the sound of the bastard’s voice. But at least is over, right? Finally the man looks too worn-out to go for a fourth round. As the ranker collapses on the bed, Baam crawls back so his legs leave those shoulders at last, and curls his own body in a ball, trying to steady his ragged breath and wounded heartbeat.
Baam shuts his eyes tightly, desperately fighting back the tears that threaten to come out now that the worst is over. He does not want to be touched ever again. He just wants to get away from here, to go back to his room and drown beneath a hot shower, and wash away his disgrace along the multiple repulsive fluids that serve as proof of it. However, Baam is unable to move. The shakes assaulting his body are too intense, and they are not subsiding anytime soon. He knows he should take his opportunity now that the ranker is too fatigued to stop him from leaving. But it is no use. His body does not answer, it just wants to curl up in a ball even more.
“...Ah! I almost forgot!”
That gross baritone startles him. Baam cannot see the man, but he is sure there is a smug smirk in his face, by the sound of his voice. There is that snicker too. What is this man talking about now? No, no… Not anymore, I beg.
The sound of a dial confuses Baam even more. “I have some friends who wanted to spend some time with you too, you know? And since I’m such a nice person, I agreed to them playing with you too. Aren’t you glad? I know you are a benevolent God, so you will alleviate their needs too, right?”
Baam does not even have time to dread the words he just heard. Without a second of delay, the metal door bursts open, making that prison cell sound that squeezes Baam’s heart, and four more men enter the room. Maybe they were outside all this time, hearing everything Baam did with the FUG ranker and delighting themselves with the gratuitous show. Once Baam manages to steady himself on his elbows and focus his gaze, it is obvious that is the case. The four men, without exception, have their trousers down their thighs and have a leaking erection in one hand. The nauseating stench of the already spilled semen mixed with the one emanating from the precum of these men almost make Baam vomit. The ranker, the seed of this nightmare, simply laughs at Baam’s reaction.
“Oh don’t be like that. These gentleman just want to play with you for a little while. They probably have never touched someone as gorgeous as you. You will making their dreams come true, my lord. You will become FUG’s true God…”
The rage inside Baam is too much to bear. Being forced to hurt people as a slayer candidate was already unbearable. Being separated from the ones he loves was devastating. Having this man touch him and use his body like a sex doll was traumatizing. And now he calls other men into action, just so he can humiliate and make Baam suffer even more? He is dying to chop off the man’s dick, so he would never use it again.
However, Baam knows he cannot do that, even if the man clearly deserves even worse than that. His friends, Baam’s friends are still in FUG’s grip. He cannot put anyone at risk. They might even start with Mr. Khun, if this ranker has not been an utter fool and had caught on Baam fantasizing with Mr. Khun while having sex with him. No, he cannot fight back, as always, not even when those men are approaching him with foul smiles on their faces.
“What do you say, gentlemen? Our slayer candidate needs to build up lots of stamina, so he can become our God in the future. Why don’t we help him with that task? As FUG members, we must aid him in this endeavor, don’t you think? He’ll surely be thankful for our kindness.”
The men seem delighted by what they hear. “Is it true? Can we have sex with the slayer candidate? For real?”
“That’s why you all were invited here today. Make the best of out it. You won’t get another chance, after all.”
Clearly trying to keep their excitement in check, the men keep approaching him slowly, ready to jump at him. The stench that emanates from their sweaty bodies assaults Baam’s nostrils. And Baam can only crawl back a bit on the bed, fully knowing he cannot escape. Tears of frustration get caught on his eyelids, as he shuts his eyes for them not to fall. He will not give them that satisfaction. He did not give it to the man orchestrating this, never again, and he will not give it to his accomplices either. Never.
However, these things are easier said than done. The moment multiple hands get hold of his body, Baam has to work extra harder to keep at bay the urge to just throw kicks and punches to the air. No, don’t touch me. Don’t touch me anymore. The tears once again threaten to fall down, as the sweat and odor of those men stick to his own skin. Vomiting, the touch of these men is nauseating. There is no other way to describe it. Baam shuts his eyes once more, as he is pushed onto the bed and immobilized by multiple, unknown hands.
Now there are not only unwelcomed hands touching him, but there are also four penises raising in front of him. The stink is unbearable, but it is nothing compared to being forced to touch them. Two of the men take Baam’s hands from either side of his body and make him get hold of their erect penises, urging Baam to stroke them. For a second, Baam stays still, not knowing what to do. The mastermind of all of this has already taught him what he should do, but Baam does not want to satisfy these men, even if he knows he has to. He has no other choice, after all.
Desperation fills Baam’s heart once again. His mind on the verge of suffering a panic attack, Baam starts to wonder. What can he do in this kind of situations? The answer came soon enough. Even if now there are four men abusing him and not only one, Baam could do the same as always, right? He can use Mr. Khun once more. I’m so sorry, Mr. Khun, for using you in this way, but… I have to forget, I have to survive this. You would be… so disgusted by me… The thought depresses him yet again, but again he chooses to forget about it for now. Who knows if he will ever see Mr. Khun one more time. Of course he wishes for it with all his heart, but the uncertainty, for once, allows him to forget about the possibility of being reunited with Mr. Khun and disappoint him with these ugly desires. So instead Baam will take advantage of these very same ugly desires, one more time.
The words said to him by the FUG ranker are the trigger he needed. “Go on. I’ll stay here and watch you be fucked by these men. You better entertain me.”
The man is now sitting on a sofa, far from the bed but with a perfect view of it all. He has a glass of wine on one hand, and an evil smirk on his face as he takes a sip from it. And Baam’s brain morphs that image into one that makes him relax, as he desperately needs now that the disgusting men are not only touching his body, but also making him touch them. The figure of the ranker takes Mr. Khun’s appearance. And so the gesture of holding the glass of wine immediately becomes stupidly sexy for Baam, as the command given to him does too.
“And you guys,” this time Mr. Khun is referring to the men surrounding Baam. “you can do whatever you want. Our God will gladly make your wishes come true.”
That way of naming him almost dispels the illusion Baam cast on himself, but thankfully he remains firm on his own delusions. Maybe he really is going insane.
The giggles the men emit upon hearing those words, on the other hand, make Baam gag. No, Mr. Khun (not the hateful ranker, of course) wants to see him getting fucked by these disgusting men. So Baam will comply. Eyes closed, his entire body relaxes little by little. When he opens them, the same repulsive bodies are in front of him, with their repulsive smiles and their repulsive smell. But the image takes on a completely different perspective if Baam thinks about Mr. Khun watching him and being aroused by it. That mere thought turns on Baam too.
So he starts stroking the penises that are already in his hands. The pleased sounds those two men make get Baam both nervous and disgusted. If he does it badly, his friends could be in danger. And he would not satisfy the watching Mr. Khun that way either. At least they seem to be enjoying it.
“A slayer is stroking my dick, it’s like a dream come true!”
“I can’t wait to be inside him!”
“God, his skin is so nice. Look, touch here!”
Once again, those unknown hands are touching all over his body, spreading their sweat on his skin. One of the men is sucking on one of his nipples, as he squeezes the other between two fingers. Another is licking his spread legs, from his toes up to his thighs. There, the man nibbles and probably leaves a few purple bruises. The ranker almost never left marks on his body. He is cautious, unlike these bastards. How will Baam explain those to his master if he sees them on the following days?
Baam does not have time to think more about it, because the man licking his legs is now with his mouth on his groin, tasting the length upwards and then down to his balls. Baam lets out a whimper unwillingly, which turns into quiet moans when the man goes even lower, tracing Baam’s entrance with his tongue and then inserting it in there, moving in and out. The flapping sound of that unwanted tongue making its way inside him makes him fight back tears of frustration. Because inevitably, along the unmatched disgust, it also sends pleasurable waves throughout his body, making him shiver uncontrollably. The man seems to notice, and he puts in more dedication into both preparing his entrance once again, and make Baam writhe in pleasure against his will.
“So cute, look how he trembles.”
“His watery eyes and his voice are both adorable too!”
These bastards… Baam is inherently a very polite individual, but no amount of curse words could suffice when referring to these men. How can these men make such light statements when they are raping him? Their laughs make Baam’s heart both sink and burn in rage. No, he has to calm down. Remember the fantasy, the delusion that is keeping you sane. It is Mr. Khun the one who is watching him. That thought alone eases his tension, even if only a little bit.
Seconds after, Baam can hear how the groans by his sides grow in volume, and then shots of warm liquid spurt on his hands, one after the other, and landing all over too: on his face, his hair, his chest. Gross.
“You are doing great, sweety.”
As Baam’s brain transforms the sound of that voice into the one he wants to hear the most, the disgust the semen on his hands causes in him subsides a little. Mr. Khun is praising him, he is pleased with him. That alone is enough for Baam to feel a little bit less… bad. Because it still feels awful, to be touched by these men, to feel their cum sticking between his fingers. And those two tongues, attacking his chest and his ass at the same time. Baam shakes his head, sinking further into his own delusion. If Mr. Khun is enjoying watching, then it is okay. Yeah, it’s okay…
As the pleasure of being watched by Mr. Khun builds up, Baam’s body is assaulted at every front. One of the men he was giving a handjob moves from his place and almost sits on Baam’s shoulders. His half erect penis, covered in the aftermath of an intense orgasm, is right before Baam’s face. The stink is the next thing Baam’s brain processes. It ambushes his nostrils, making him spill a few tears. Baam just wants to slap it away, but he knows he cannot. So he just stays there, eyes tightly shut so he does not have to look at that abomination. And the man just scoffs idiotically at his reaction.
“Let’s make use of that tiny mouth right here…”
Baam is one step away from vomiting, from just imagining having that thing inside his mouth and having to please this man this way. The ranker has already forced him to take him in his mouth quite a few times, and was humiliating enough, but having to taste another unwanted man like this is unbearable. However, Baam knows he has to comply, as long as his friends are in FUG’s power. Still, Baam bites his lips in a foolish and unconscious attempt to block the access into his mouth.
“Hey! Don’t do that yet! We won’t be able to hear him scream clearly if you do that.”
That starts off another alarm inside Baam’s mind. What does he mean by that? What is that other man planning to do to him? That was a stupid question, of course. What else would he want to do, when he is spreading Baam’s legs and putting them on top of his own shoulders? That is when Baam realizes: they are taking turns. The ones that were on Baam’s hands, are now one on his mouth and the other wanting to take his ass. And the ones licking him on his chest and on his legs are grabbing his hands and making him take their cocks.
And Baam just wants to disappear. Can’t this mattress absorb him into another world, far away from here? Where no one can touch him, where no one can hurt him. It could take him to this team, to Mr. Khun’s arms. He just wants to curl up in ball and be embraced by him, hear his smoothing voice against his ear, telling him everything will be alright. That no one will touch him again if he does not want to. That he is still pure, he is still valuable. That he is worth the world.
But Baam knows that will never happen. Mr. Khun will never see him like he did before. Because Baam is far too tainted. Every part of his body has been soiled by another man, and now it is not only one. Their filth and their stench has soaked through Baam’s skin. Disgusting, everything in him is disgusting. How could Mr. Khun want to touch him now that he is like this?
Now he cannot stop the tears, which fall down silently across his cheeks, unnoticed by the men that are still taking position around him. They are too engrossed in their own world of self-pleasuring. That is good, actually. Baam does not want them to enjoy themselves even more by seeing him cry. Although the ranker obviously noticed. There is no way he has not, since he is watching every detail from afar. Baam cannot help imagining the ranker’s smug grin, the illusion of that being Mr. Khun completely broken after the self-deprecating thoughts invaded his mind. He tries to recreate the illusion once again, but it crumbles fast, unable to keep its form. It is no use.
Baam does not have any other option than to face reality. And reality, right now, is his hands imprisoned by the grip of others, forcing him to hold and caress two pieces of pulsating meat, bathed in precum. The reality right now is a man almost sitting on his shoulders, trying to shove a penis inside Baam’s mouth. And reality is another man placing Baam’s legs on his shoulders and pressing down, bending Baam’s body in half and pushing through his tight ring. Just as that man has instructed, the one sitting on Baam’s shoulders did not muffle his voice by shoving his penis in his mouth, so unfortunately the sounds of pain and shame come out from Baam’s throat freely when that dick makes its way inside Baam’s ass and leaves a burning sensation on its way.
“Yes, yes! That’s exactly what I wanted to hear! Sing for us more, our God!”
He does not want to give them the satisfaction, of course, but what other option has he got? As that hard thing goes deeper inside him, bursting him open, Baam’s voice goes up in volume. The thrusts hurt like hell, as his inner walls were already irritated by the rough treatment the ranker put him through. And he is clinging for dear life to the other two dicks, as the men do not allow him to let go. He should please them even if it disgusts him, so they free him sooner. Therefore, Baam starts stroking again, for them to finish quickly. Their moans at all sides give Baam goosebumps.
“He sounds so cute, but…! Sorry, guys, but I have to put that little mouth to use…!”
Baam almost pukes when the stinky penis that was pestering his nose, forces its way into his mouth. As the ranker instructed him some time ago, when he taught Baam how to please a man with his mouth, he is careful not to touch it with his teeth. Instead, he instinctively uses his tongue, lips and the inner walls of his mouth to please the bastard, who lets out a deep and perturbing groan. But Baam does not care, he just wants this to end, so he will do whatever he can to make these men cum as soon as possible, even if the whole situation makes him want to cry in a corner and never move from there again.
And it turns out worse and worse, as the grip on his hands gets tighter and they start to go numb. Then the dick on his mouth travels deeper and starts fucking his throat, making Baam’s eyes teary from the gagging sensation. And the thrusts inside him pick up the pace and pound into him, completely missing the spot that makes him at least feel a bit of pleasure, so they only leave stinging pain inside.
And the ranker simply encourages them to go on, even after all their cum stick to Baam’s fingers and to his long, tangled hair. It covers Baam’s face and it drips from his half open lips, as he tries to catch his breath after some intense coughing. And it comes out of Baam’s entrance, as his legs lay languid now on the bed. His whole body is covered in spasms, the repercussions of the violent act very visible.
Still, the men are not done. They are never done, it seems. Baam’s body gets assaulted again and again. They handle his body and make it shift positions as they please. They take turns to fuck each part of his body. One time, Baam is straddling one of the men as the others masturbate around him. Another time, Baam’s face is pressed against the mattress, as he is taken from the back, as a dog in heat. Another time...
Until he has coughed all the saliva he has inside, and even some puke has left his stomach.
Until his shoulders are stiff, his lower back is sore, and his hands and legs are absolutely numb from exhaustion.
Until he cannot even move, and his quivering entrance spurts semen mixed with strings of blood.
Until his brain has completely shut off the cheers of encouragement the men give to each other, and the repulsive compliments they give to his godly but degraded figure.
Until his eyes lose their brightness and his vision goes black.
-END of Chapter 1-
