Prophylaxis - 15. Chapter 15

Content/trigger warning: violence, rape, torture, captivity, omg seriously maybe you should just skip this chapter

The first thing that came back to me was pain and the sensation of motion. It was a rhythmic jarring that pulled me further into consciousness. My nose was clogged and I breathed raggedly through my mouth, dry and tasting of blood. My arms were twisted behind my back, wrists crossed and held tight by something. Pain stole my attention, throbbing worst in a sickening ache above my eye. My cheek slid back and forth against something cold and smooth. I tried to force my eyes open, only semi-successful on the right. It was seconds until I could focus. A car, my car. I was bent over the side of the trunk inside a garage.

My body jerked suddenly, pain stabbing inside me and out to my asshole.

No.

No, no, no, please.

My hearing came last. First my own panting breaths through cracked lips and then grunts and growls behind me. I squeezed my eye closed tight, trying to will myself back into unconsciousness. I heard Lester mutter behind me, his grunting thrusts coming harder and faster. I bit back pained whimpers. Quiet. It was important to be quiet until he wanted me to make noises for him. The lesson came back easily.

“Stupid bitch… Ruined everything…”

I kept my eye closed and played dead, praying he would finish soon. I wasn’t sure I could keep quiet much longer. If I was lucky he’d at least slicked himself a little with spit, but I doubted it. I counted it a blessing I’d been unconscious when he forced himself inside me. If the sharp pain was any indication, the rotten bastard hadn’t been gentle. It was hard not to tense my muscles with the pain. I counted my breaths, focused on the cool metal under my cheek. It was dusty from the gravel road. I tried to feel each distinct piece of dust as I moved jerkily against it.

I tried to ignore Lester as his movements roughened behind me. The movements were starting to make me nauseous, though. I was afraid I was going to puke. He moved more urgently, curses against me falling from his lips like poison. Suddenly his fist caught my hair and yanked me up as he slammed himself deep inside me and stayed there. I bit back a scream as pain shot through me from my ass to my skull and back, crackling out to my limbs on the way. I vomited, unable to breathe as I heaved. When my stomach stopped trying to turn inside out I sucked in acid breaths as my ears rang and dizziness washed over me.

“Ugh, Fuck.” I heard Lester mutter as everything went black again.

                                                                           ***

I woke up cold and naked but thankfully alone. My right eye blinked open, but the left refused. I had trouble focusing, everything felt a little foggy and unreal. I didn’t know if it was from the bashing my head took or the fucking drug. The ceiling was white, I could focus on that. When my vision cleared enough I saw the light fixture was a plastic square that stabbed it’s brightness into my head. I blinked and turned away from it. I tried not to groan as I pushed against the cold slick tiles to sit up, fighting down nausea. I appeared to be in a mostly blindingly white bathroom with dark blue accents. I felt something cold and heavy on my arm and looked down.

A chain lay over my arm, thick and rough, pooling on the floor beside me. I blinked at it stupidly before grabbing it. I followed it away from me with my eye. It was locked to a fat eyebolt set low in the wall. My fingers tentatively traced it toward me. It went up, past my chest to my throat. My fingers found a small padlock where the chain ended under my chin. It attached to a small ring on something heavy circling my neck. I staggered upward, yanking myself up by the edge of the sink. As I pulled up the nausea hit me harder and vertigo swirled in my head. I tilted to the side, and only my grip on the edge of the sink kept me from crashing to the floor. Fuck. More carefully this time, I tried to tug my aching body upright. I ignored the pain as I pushed myself to stand in front of the mirror. I took no notice of my face, eye drawn to the thick brown leather around my throat.

A collar. I was wearing a collar like a fucking dog. I scrabbled at it with numb fingers, desperation aching in my chest as I tried to find a way to get it off of me. The only way it seemed it could come off, though, appeared to be by removing the padlock attaching it to the thick chain.

“Fuck.” I hissed under my breath as I curled my fingers around the fucking thing. I pulled as hard as I could. I only succeeded in making my neck sore and making myself dizzy enough I had to sit down.

I hunched over where I sat on the closed toilet, leaning my forearms on my knees.

“Fuck!” I whimpered, grabbing the chain in both hands.

My eye slid to the thick eyebolt. I dropped unsteadily to my knees next to it. I fiddled with the padlock, but it was secure. I’d never be able to get the small one on the fucking collar off, let alone this big one. I grabbed the circle of the bolt, trying to turn it counter-clockwise, hoping I could unscrew it.

“Lefty-loosey, motherfucker,” I growled. “Come on.”

It wouldn’t budge. My fingers were sore and scraped as I ransacked the room, stumbling occasionally as my balance failed me. I fucking hoped I didn’t have a concussion. I rifled the drawers and medicine cabinet. There were things in there, a small plastic brush and comb, a first aid kit, various ointments, some washcloths and towels, and other bathroom-type items. There was nothing sharp or metal. No scissors, tweezers, or razors. There were also no medicines, which struck me as odd. I tried using the brush’s handle to get more leverage to unscrew the eyebolt, but I just snapped the cheap plastic at the base. There was nothing useful in the shower either, just a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo.

When I finally stopped scrambling around I was exhausted and I hurt everywhere, my head and ass the worst. I sat on the freezing tile, back against the tub, as I tried to not freak the fuck out.

Okay, I was stuck. Maybe I’d get some miraculous MacGyver-esque epiphany later, but right then I wasn’t going anywhere. With the chain, I could reach everywhere in the bathroom pretty easily. I was about a foot short of being able to grab the handle to the door, but I could have kicked it if I wanted to. Adding a sore foot to everything else seemed like a bad idea, so I held myself back.

I took a quick inventory of what I had and then put it all away except for a large towel I folded to sit on. My mouth was dry and tasted awful, so I gingerly turned on the sink. Some of the bad taste was from the blood, but there was also a nasty chemical taste that I thought must have been from whatever he’d shot into me. No one came busting in at the sound of running water, so I cupped my hands to rinse my mouth out then drink.

I took a deep breath and stood slowly, no longer able to delay what I needed to do next.

Jesus, I looked like I’d been hit by a fucking semi. I peered into the mirror with my one working eye. My hair was tangled and matted with dried blood. I gingerly prodded a gash at my hairline that was still dripping sluggishly. It looked like it needed stitches. Had that happened when he was hitting me against the door, or had it happened when I was knocked out? Shit. I had several scratches and scrapes that looked minor. I felt through my hair, looking for other cuts, wincing when my fingers found a large goose-egg near my temple. My face sported plenty of bruises and was crusted with blood from the gash and my nose. My left eye looked a little swollen, but I thought it might just be glued shut from the blood. My head and face were in worse shape than the rest of me. Just some bruises and scrapes everywhere else with splashes of dried blood. I purposely avoided looking at or thinking about the blood and fluids dried on my thighs.

I needed to get it off me. Fuck it. I spun the knobs to turn on the shower and stole the softest washcloth I could find. The hot water didn’t last long, but it was long enough to get myself pretty well cleaned up. I tried to ignore the chain and collar pulling at my neck as I stepped under the steaming spray. I probably should have started with my face but I didn’t. I leaned heavily against the wall to help my traitorously unsteady legs keep me upright as I lathered the washcloth to maximum capacity. I was gentle as I could be as I gingerly pressed it between my asscheeks. I sucked in a hissing breath as it swiped across my tender hole. I gritted my teeth and scrubbed harder, ignoring the sharp spikes of pain. As I washed my backside, water sluiced over my front. It softened the blood that had dripped down my chest and stomach, turning the water pink. I may have overdone it scrubbing my ass, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I rinsed the washcloth and lathered again, turning my back on the spray. I washed my armpits, chest and arms, then pushed the chain out of the way to lather down to my stomach and crotch. I got dizzy when I bent over, so I couldn’t scrub lower than my thighs. It would have to do. I rinsed thoroughly and carefully turned my face into the spray. The water was starting to cool from the stinging heat I’d had it set to, which was probably for the best. Maybe it would help with some of the swelling. Water pooled in my mouth as I breathed through it. I spat it out, it tasted of my blood. Gross.

The cuts and scrapes stung in the water, but the crust holding my left eye closed seemed to be loosening. I took the rinsed washcloth and held it over that eye. I rubbed gently while trying to open it. It pulled at my eyelashes, but finally opened. I sighed in relief as I pulled the cloth away and blinked it open. Being blinded in one eye was something I definitely wanted to avoid. I washed carefully, the water running cool by the time I’d washed and rinsed my hair. I slicked the water off my body and out of my hair as well as I could before stepping carefully out of the shower. I was still a little unsteady and I would be mega-pissed if I survived all this only to slip in the shower and crack open my brains on the side of a bathtub.

I dried off, hating how the chain rattled as I moved, and ended up pulling out all the towels I could find to make a little nest for myself in the corner where I could watch the door. I patched myself up as well as I could with the first aid kit. I was able to get a couple little butterfly bandages on the bigger gash, though it was difficult since it was so close to my hair.

The collar was still damp, it rubbed unpleasantly against my skin. I’d dried it as well as I was able. Maybe I’d get lucky and the damn thing would rot and fall off. I pulled it as far from the front of my neck as possible. I sat on my pitiful pile of towels, pulling my knees to my chest. I took two towels and draped them around myself like blankets. I wrapped my arms around my knees and watched the door.

He’d come for me eventually.

                                                                                ***

I grinned into the mirror, unfazed by the fading bruise on my cheek. Mom still tisked at me every time she saw it, but at least she’d stopped lecturing me about fighting. I wondered what she’d say if she knew who had really hit me, if she knew he did it to keep me from fighting him while he did things to me. I shook off the thought.

It was going to be a good fricking day. Even if I had to spend it with Lester. I shivered.

Why was it going to be an awesome fricking day? One word: mummies.

I didn’t think everyone appreciated them as much as I did, but mummies were cool. I might have been the only freshman at school on an Egyptology kick, but I didn’t care. It was neat, with the mysteries, pyramids, dead guys, mummified animals, weird writing, and stuff.

The closest really good mummy exhibit was in Chicago at the Field Museum. I’d been once when I was younger and Dad was still alive. Now that I knew so much more about mummies and things like that, I’d been asking mom to take me. With her schedule she said it would be a long time before she could take us. Lester’d had a few days off, though, and Mom convinced him to take Rosie and me. Rosie’d begged off though, convincing Mom there was some stupid thing she had to do on that day. I’d thought the trip would be cancelled but Mom said she’d talked Les into taking just me. I’d been really nervous about it at first, but had mostly gotten over it.

Lester hadn’t touched me since he smacked me hard enough to leave a mark. I thought maybe he’d worried people would get suspicious since he kept leaving marks on me. It usually happened when he was holding me down and trying to keep me quiet. Sometimes his hand over my mouth would get too rough or he’d hit me to get me to quit moving. Sometimes he’d threaten my sister, that would usually shut me up. I’d still struggle some, though. But he’d left me alone for like a week. Besides, he’d never do anything to me in such a public place as the museum. So far he’d only done stuff to me in places that no one would come around to. The worst part would be the drive over. He had to drive though, and I hadn’t drank anything all morning. So, he wouldn’t be able to get me in a truck stop bathroom or something. I had everything figured out.

Maybe he was trying to change, I hoped. Maybe he saw the bruise and felt bad for what he’d done. He wasn’t always bad, either. He took us all to the movies every month and let us eat all the popcorn we wanted. That was fun as long as the theater wasn’t too crowded. He took us to mini golf a few months ago. Mom had kicked all our butts. It was hilarious.

Everything was going to be fine today. I’d even gotten film for my little camera so I could get some pics of cool stuff.

I was stoked.

I was uncertain, though, as I climbed into the front seat as Les slid in behind the wheel. The thought of five hours in a car alone with Creeper Lester made me grimace. He couldn’t really do anything to me in the car, I reminded myself. When we got there there’d be people around, so it would be okay. I still kept glancing at him nervously as he backed out and we took off.

I’d overheard Les mention to Mom that we’d be taking highway 20 most of the way, so when we turned off after driving about an hour I sat up and looked around.

“Where are we going? I thought we stayed on this road.”

“Just gotta make a quick stop for work,” Lester grunted. “Won’t take a minute.”

I nodded, tense. It didn’t take a minute or even ten. We drove on increasingly lonely roads for twenty minutes until turning onto a minimum service road. It wasn’t even graveled, the ruts pitted and jarring. I held onto the seat under me as we continued a few miles down the track. We turned off onto an overgrown drive. My nervousness grew as we passed deeper into the shade, shadows engulfing us. After a few minutes we pulled up to a rundown house. Les parked around the back and turned off the car.

“Come on.” He opened his door. “Don’t want you sitting out here alone.”

“I… do I have to?” I hated how my voice squeaked with worry.

Les just looked at me coldly. I bit my lip and unbuckled my seatbelt. It would be fine. We’d do whatever cop thing Lester had to do and then we’d leave. The steps to the back door had nasty gray paint that was peeling in thick curling flakes. It creaked as we went up. Lester opened the door without bothering to see if it was locked. It opened into a dingy kitchen that smelled like something had gone bad. I covered my nose and followed the big man in front of me. Through a dusty living room and up some stairs I grew increasingly anxious. I wiped the palms of my hands on my pant legs. I thought about asking to just wait downstairs, but knew it would be pointless. He’d never let me wander around by myself in some house that had business with the sheriff’s office. I kept my mouth shut and prayed we’d be done quickly and could get out of this dusty old place.

We entered a bedroom that looked marginally cleaner than the rest of the house. The bed pushed into one corner had been stripped of everything but a blanket. It looked like the sheets and things had been shoved under the bed. The blanket was spread out and looked like the cleanest thing in the room. I leaned against the wall by the closet as Lester opened a drawer in the scuffed dresser.

“What is this place?” I crossed my arms across my chest, hugging myself surreptitiously.

Lester looked up at me with a smile. “A guy with no family died here. The sheriff’s office is going to do the auction in a few weeks.”

I straightened stiffly. “A dude died here?”

“Oh, settle down,” Lester huffed, turning back to the drawer to pull out a plastic grocery sack. “He didn’t die in here. This was an extra bedroom. He died in the next bedroom.”

My eyes latched onto the plastic bag as Les approached me. “Is that what you needed?” I asked hopefully. “Can we go now?” I fought to keep the whine out of my voice. I wanted out of here. Dead mummies were cool, dead guys in creepy houses weren’t. Being alone in the creepy house with my creepy stepdad was least cool.

“Go?” Lester’s hand shot out to grab my wrist. “We just got here, Nathan.”

I looked up at him, eyes widening. As his skin touched mine his cruel lust and excitement hit me like a fist.

“No,” I said. “No! We’re going to Chicago! We’re going to the museum!” My voice sounded desperate.

I dug in my heels uselessly as Lester tugged me across the carpet to the bed. He yanked hard and I tumbled onto the mattress. I scrambled back until I hit the wall. Lester’s eyes gleamed as he pulled something out of the bag, a rope, before tossing the sack on the bed. Something black and strangely shaped fell out. He crawled onto the bed.

“We aren’t going anywhere, Nathan,” he said levelly. “Now, be a good boy and come here.”

“No,” I whimpered, kicking out at him as he grabbed at me.

He grunted, but was able to catch me. I struggled as he tied my wrists together. He grinned freely as he sat back, watching me pointlessly trying to tug my hands free from the rope.

“Oh, Nathan, we’re going to have some fun,” he said in a satisfied tone.

I fought him, I can say that. It was pointless, but I fought. I shoved at him with my bound hands and he laughed at me like we were playing around rough-housing. There was no little sister in the next room, no one around for miles and miles, so I screamed and yelled and cursed him. I still ended up naked, though my shirt was bunched on my forearms. It was trapped by my bound hands. I shrieked in frustration as he pinned me down after shedding his own clothes.

“So feisty today.” Lester’s grin was terrifying. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

So much skin to skin contact swamped me with emotion. I lost where his stopped and mine started. I felt a dark glee twining in my chest. Warm arousal pooled in my belly and I groaned.

“You say no,” he murmured as his hand swept up my thigh to cup my hardening dick. “We both know better, though. You were looking forward to this too.”

“No!” I spat the word. “Stop it, you sick jerk!”

He laughed again, loud so close to my ear. He threw a leg over my thighs to hold them down as I tried to squirm away. He stroked me until I was hard, my face burning with shame.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. You like that don’t you?”

I tried to shove him away with my tied hands, but he just grabbed them with his free hand and held them pinned above my head. The surroundings were different, but the scenario was all too familiar. I struggled, he made me be still, he got me hard, told me how much I liked it, then he’d bend me over something and do it to me. When he’d come I’d come, no matter how hard I tried not to, but it was Lester’s fault. It was all his fault.

But Lester didn’t stop stroking me, didn’t push me to my stomach. I felt his disgusting erection against the side of my thigh, streaking me with precum as he rubbed himself against me. I was getting tired but I kept struggling, trying to wriggle out from under him as he fondled me. His hand moved in time with his shallow thrusts against my leg.

“S-stop!” I moaned.

I felt a heavy warmth pooling low in my stomach as my nipples tightened. His hand was slicked with my precum now. It slid easily up and down my length, squeezing and pulling, a turn of the wrist catching the head. My muscles tensed as a low whine trickled from my throat.

“That’s it, baby.” His hand quickened.

I fought the inevitable, but it caught me in a wave of horrible pleasure. I threw my head back with a hitching moan as I shot strings of pearly cum across my chest and stomach. My heart pounded and my breaths were fast as Lester dragged his fingers through the little white pools decorating my skin. I jerked my head away as he smeared it across my lips. I rubbed my lips off on my arm, disgusted. At least it was over now. If I came that meant he’d come. I felt a moment of hope that maybe we’d still go to the museum and get away from this awful house.

Then I realized my stepdad was still rubbing against my thigh, hard and dripping. He hadn’t come. I’d come from him jerking me off. I’d come when he hadn’t. No, it wasn’t possible. I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud until Lester responded.

“It’s possible.” Lester leered. He reached out to snag the bag and the object that had fallen out of it. “And you’re young. You can go again lots of times, I bet.” He waved the strange black object in front of my face. “I think you’re ready for this now.”

It hurt. It hurt and I screamed. He’d tried it first without lube but I’d yelled and kicked and he said I’d make myself bleed. He said it scoldingly, like he was chastising me for ruining dinner. Even with the lube it hurt. The strange thing stretched me wide at the base, then curved in strange bumps to touch another spot inside me. Lester’s hand was on my dick again, I tried to jerk away from him but froze when a sizzling bolt of pleasure shot from my ass to my cock as my movement jostled the evil thing inside me. I froze, sucking in a startled breath.

“I think we found your sweet spot, baby,” Les purred as he rubbed and stroked my length.

I shrieked with rage as I struggled again, fighting to ignore every hot jolt as the thing inside me shifted with each movement. I came even faster the second time. Erupting even as I howled and fought. He didn’t stop stroking me this time. I screamed as he teased oversensitive flesh, focusing on the head. All the while he rubbed his body against me, moaning and panting. I bucked but he pinned me. The noises coming from my mouth sounded hardly human, tears pricking my eyes.

“Hurts,” I whimpered. “Please, it hurts.”

“Mmm,” Lester murmured. “And you like it, too.”

“No,” I whined.

“Yes,” he hissed, jerking me faster.

And my body betrayed me again. It took a little longer, but the excruciating sensitivity passed and the pleasure washed over me again as Les rutted against my skin. I was limp and exhausted when he finally released my cock. I bit back a sob as I realized I was still hard. I yelped as the black thing was tugged out of me. Now he rolled me to my stomach. I tried to stay on my back, but was tired and weak. He laid over me, crushing the breath from me. I wiggled uselessly under him, a low whine trickling from my lips.

“You’re going to like this just as much as you liked that,” he whispered as I felt him lining himself up.

“No,” I whimpered. “No.”

I felt his blunt head at my entrance. “Still arguing after you came how many times just like a little slut?” He pushed and I whimpered as he popped past my stretched muscles. “Such a stubborn whore.”

Then he was deep inside me and it was that familiar stretch, but the pain was less now. The pleasure was different too. It wasn’t just echoes of Lester’s, it was a shivering sensitivity inside me and up the length of my dick. I hated it. I tried to struggle and barely moved. It didn’t matter how I fought or screamed, nothing stopped him from doing whatever he wanted.

Lester grunted as his thrusts sped. “Dirty little bitch. You love it, don’t you whore.”

I let out one last ragged scream as tears dripped down my face. I could feel Lester’s pleasure slowly rising, mine pulled along with it.

“Give you everything you want, slut.”

I blinked and stilled. Nothing would change. There was no point in fighting, no point in screaming. It seemed to just make it last longer. I felt my eyes slowly unfocus as I stared at the tobacco-stained wallpaper. Better then to just take it when I couldn’t avoid it easily.

“God, yeah, you feel so good, bitch.”

My muscles relaxed one at a time as I blinked slowly. I wasn’t my body. My body was just a thing, a traitorous disgusting thing. Let him have it, then. Let him have my body. There was nothing I could do about it anyway. I couldn’t stop him.

I cried out as he thrust deep inside me as he came, my rippling orgasm following a moment behind. He collapsed at my side, hugging my limp body close.

“Mmmm,” he whispered. “I love you, baby, so much. I’ll never let you go.”

There was no point in fighting. There was no point in anything.

No point at all.

After that the fight went out of me. Even as time passed, my resistance was half-hearted. We both knew he would do what he wanted to and I wouldn’t stop him. Something had cracked inside me, and I couldn’t fix it.

                                                                ***

I was startled awake by the bathroom door banging open, remembered despair echoing in my head. I saw Lester looming in the bathroom doorway, like the man he’d been years ago when he’d cheated me out of a trip I’d wanted so badly and then broken something inside me. I looked closer, he wasn’t the same, though. The hair was a little gray now, the body a little softer than it had been. And I was different now, too. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I was a fucking idiot to have let myself get into this situation, but I would figure out a way to get out of here.

I would find a way, I swore to myself. I would never give up again. I would find a way to fight. I would find a way to fight until I got away or he killed me.

a/n: A million thanks to MaddamRedder. She helped me so much with this chapter. It was hard to get over my own squeamishness for this one, but I wanted to show how far Mick has come from that kid Lester nearly broke. Red helped me get unstuck, gave good suggestions, and proofread. She is truly my gay smut soul mate.