Picture provided by Susan ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 1: WARNING: RAPE & VIOLENCE “Brian, where the fuck are you going?” called the blond, racing after him and the trick. He’d watched Brian do his usual number and pick up one of the hottest guys in Babylon that night, but had been taken completely by surprise when he saw the two of them heading for the door and took off after them, catching up with them in the alley. Brian stopped and turned around to face him. “I’m going with ……… what did you say your name was?” he asked the good-looking guy by his side. “You don’t even know his name?” Justin couldn’t believe that Brian was doing this. There was a killer on the loose and he was going off with a complete stranger; someone he’d only just met and whose name he probably hadn’t even bothered to find out. “Hey”, called Justin to the stranger. “What’s your name?” “Why, what’s it to you?” came the reply. The man stared him down; he was in no mood for messing around with this kid. “Come on Brian, let’s go home”, pleaded Justin, grabbing his arm, but Brian only pulled away from him. “Are you scared I’m gonna get murdered?” he asked, making light of Justin’s concerns. “Brian please….”, but Brian was having none of it. “There’s never been a hotter time to fuck a stranger”, he whispered in Justin’s ear. “Hey, while we’re young ..……” the man was becoming impatient; he needed to get Brian away from the blond. Brian looked at Justin and smiled. “I’ll be alright. Just ……. just don’t come back to the loft too soon, okay?” and he turned his back on him and Brian and his trick walked off down the alley. “Well fuck you!” Justin shouted after them and turned on his heel, heading for a night on Daphne’s sofa. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ By the time Brian and his trick arrived at the loft they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and the guy was already out of his coat and shirt before they even got through the door. Brian congratulated himself on his choice; the guy was powerfully built: an obvious top. But not tonight: tonight, Brian would fuck him until he could hardly stand and have him begging for more. He turned on the lights and closed the door behind them. “The bedroom’s up there”, and Brian indicated the raised area behind the glass screens. “I’m gonna get some water. Do you want some?” he asked, taking off his leather jacket and throwing it onto the sofa. He headed for the refrigerator. “No thanks, I’m fine”, and the trick tossed his shirt and coat onto the sofa beside Brian’s. Brian opened the refrigerator door and took out a bottle of water. He opened it and took several long swallows, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as he drank. He was totally unprepared for the blow to his stomach, which doubled him up and sent him crashing to his knees, fighting for breath as the water was taken into his lungs and he gasped in shock and pain. Down on all fours, retching and fighting for air, he tried to clear his head and take in what was happening and couldn’t fend off the knee that now caught him in the ribs, sending him sprawling to the floor. Confused, disorientated and hardly able to breath, Brian was barely aware of being picked up and dragged across the living room floor and up the few steps to the bedroom, where he was dumped, unceremoniously, onto the bed. Lying on his back, breathing as hard as his ribs would allow and trying to force the air back into his lungs, he felt the man climb onto the bed beside him and was now kneeling over him. He fought to open his eyes. In the eerie silence of the loft, Brian heard the click and saw the flash of light on metal as the switchblade was opened. “You don’t remember me, do you?” asked the trick and Brian could feel the man’s breath on his face. “Well, I remember you”, he continued. “You think you are so special …… better than all the rest of us. Pick us up or blow us off, whatever YOU feel like. Whenever YOU want. Well, not tonight baby". "Tonight, it’s my turn and you’re gonna be a good little boy for Daddy”, and with his head finally starting to clear, Brian could feel the cold steel being held against his face with one hand, whilst with the other, the trick unbuckled the belt on Brian’s jeans. Slowly, he then undid the button and started to pull down Brian’s zipper. Brian heard the trick laugh and felt him take hold of his cock and he tried to push the man’s hand away, but he was still too weak to fend him off. “Oh baby ….… I know you want this so bad”, and to Brian’s dismay he realised he had a hard-on. The man squeezed Brian’s balls and then started to pull on him, slowly at first, but then quickening the strokes until he took Brian to the edge. Brian closed his eyes; he was determined to hold back. There was no way he wanted his assailant to think he could possibly find any pleasure in what was being done to him, but he couldn’t. Brian shuddered and he wanted to vomit as his body took over its natural response to being aroused and he was unable to prevent the moan escaping from his lips as he was taken over the edge, shooting cum onto the sheets. Still unable to take any really deep breaths, his stomach and ribs bruised from the blows received and with the knife pressed against his neck, the trick grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and Brian was forced onto his belly. From his jeans pocket, the trick took out two lengths of rope and secured his victim’s wrists to the bed frame. Brian tried to speak, but no words would come, his mouth dry and his throat still raw from the retching earlier. He thought he was going to die and wondered if his would be the next body to be found in a dumpster. Pulling the tee out from Brian's jeans, the trick took the knife and cut the material from neck to hem, exposing his back. He then moved down the bed and removed Brian’s footwear, then, grabbing the hem of Brian’s jeans, he pulled them and his underwear off his body. Lying naked on the bed, save for his shoulders still covered by the shredded material of his tee, Brian had never felt so vulnerable and defenceless in his life. He felt the man move around the bed and managed to turn his head towards him and caught the so very familiar sight of a leather belt being removed. Brian closed his eyes and buried his face in the pillows, bracing himself for what was about to happen and the thrashing began. Suddenly, he was 12 years old again as he felt the leather belt against his skin. His Father usually gave up before too long, being far too drunk and out of condition to continue, but this time, this beating continued and he could hear the man breathing, not from exhaustion, but from the excitement and exhilaration felt at administering such punishment. Thankfully, the lashing stopped and Brian tried to blink back the tears, desperately trying to prevent a complete stranger gaining any satisfaction from realising the effect such a thrashing was having on him. As a child, Brian had to endure almost daily beatings, but he’d never allowed his Father to see how much they had hurt him. But this beating, together with memories evoked of such an abusive childhood, now left Brian bruised and shaking. But the trick hadn’t finished with him yet. Now breathing hard, despite the pain and with his head pounding, Brian realised the man was undressing. Then, taken by the ankles, Brian’s legs were spread and he felt the trick climb onto the bed between them. He heard the rustle of the foil and heard, gratefully, the trick tearing open the packet containing the condom. “I kinda wish I didn’t have to use this”, the man said, quietly. “I like the idea of having you feel me come inside you”. Involuntarily, Brian clenched his buttocks: an attempt at staving off the invasion to come. He heard the man chuckle. “That’s it …. nice and tight. I want you to feel every inch of me”. His head was swimming and the pain took over Brian’s entire body as the man forced his way inside; the friction of rubber against the most sensitive of flesh. The pounding thrusts, quickening now in tempo, forced him down into the mattress: suffocating him and Brian slipped slowly and mercifully, into the sweet, welcoming blackness that overtook him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With supreme effort, Brian managed to lift his head off the pillows. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, but the loft was quiet and, holding his breath, he looked around for any sign of his attacker. Thankfully, there was none. The man had gone, taking with him the ropes with which he had secured Brian to the bed. The only evidence left of him ever having been there was the bruising on Brian's body and the turmoil in his mind. He tried to roll over, but the ache in his ribs and the smarting from his back, buttocks and thighs from the thrashing, made it a slow and painful process. Brian ached: inside and out and he was shaking. He knew he should try and contact Justin or maybe Michael. He needed help and wondered if he would make it to his cell phone, but the thought of allowing anyone to see him like this; hurt and having been unable to prevent the assault stopped him. How could he ever admit to anyone what he'd just allowed to happen, that he'd lost control; that he’d been totally powerless and at the mercy of a complete stranger? The humiliation would be too much. "Where the fuck are you going? You don't even know his name?" Justin's words came back at him. They’d talked about the excitement of anonymous sex, of the thrill of the unknown. And Brian was now paying the price for taking one chance too many. Reaching down to the bottom of the bed, he struggled to pull the sheet up over himself and, painfully curling into a ball, eventually fell asleep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was passed dawn when Brian woke and suddenly realised that Justin could be back at any time. There was no way he could allow the blond to find him like this and slowly, he managed to pull himself off the bed and onto his feet. It was only a few steps to the bathroom, but the sheer effort of putting one foot in front of the other made Brian gasp and moan with the pain. Supporting his ribcage, he made for the shower, managing painfully to strip of the tattered tee as he did so and tossed it into the trash. He couldn't let Justin see it; he would start to ask questions. Stepping inside the shower stall, he steadied himself before turning on the water: as hot as he could stand it. He held his face up to the spray, allowing the water to flow over him and, reaching for the soap, Brian carefully started to lather himself, trying to wash away every trace of the man who had attacked him. Climbing out of the stall, he grabbed for a towel and wrapped it round his waist and only just made the toilet bowl in time, bringing up the contents of his stomach. Straightening up, he lent against the sink and took a drink from the faucet, swilling the water around his mouth and spitting it out, trying to rid himself of the foulness he could taste. He caught sight of himself in the mirror. Thankfully, his face was unmarked, but a bruise was showing under his ribs. Turning away, now looking back at himself over his shoulder, Brian could see the wheals left by the belt. He had to get some clothes on; he couldn’t let Justin see the marks. Going back into the bedroom, he pulled out some loose fitting joggers and a long-sleeved top from the drawer. There was redness around his wrists and he needed to cover this also. When Justin returned, he would just have to say he had a stomach upset or hurt his back and was going to stay in bed, which is where he headed for, climbing in under the sheet and laying his head back on the pillows. Where was Justin? Christ, he hoped he was safe. He didn't even think about where the blond would go after he'd left him at Babylon last night. Part of Brian wanted Justin to stay away long enough to enable him to recover from the assault sufficiently so as not to arouse suspicion that anything was wrong. The other part wanted Justin near, where he could see him, feel his presence close by, knowing he was safe. “You’re gonna be a good little boy for Daddy”. Brian could still hear the man’s words and feel his hands on him; and he remembered the coldness of the knife against his face. He could still feel the trick inside him and suddenly, he was overtaken by the gut wrenching sensation within of utter shock and helplessness that left him clutching the sheet and burying his face in the pillows, barely able to keep back the tears: the despair only subsiding when he drifted back to sleep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was late afternoon when Brian next woke and he could hear faint sounds in the loft. How long had he been asleep? Had the trick come back? Had he taken a key with him when he left? And Brian felt the panic rise within him as he heard movement, only to be replaced with a huge sigh of relief when he saw the blond making his way from the bathroom. "Hi". Slowly, Brian managed to prop himself up on his elbow, hoping that Justin wouldn't realise anything was amiss. "Hi”, replied Justin. “It must have been some hot trick last night if you're still in bed. Or is it that you're just not as young as you used to be", he teased and he moved towards him. He hesitated slightly; he couldn't help but notice that Brian was clothed, whereas he normally slept naked. "Where have you been? I thought you'd be back before now". "Well, I was pretty pissed off at you last night, going off like that, so I spent the night at Daphne's. And as its Saturday, I had some shifts at the diner". Justin looked at him. "Is everything okay? You don't look so hot", he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, I'm fine. I ..…. I just hurt my back a little, that's all". Justin grinned, just imagining how that might have happened. "Anything I can do? I can always give you a back massage", he whispered in Brian’s ear and he reached over to gently stroke him. Brian brought his arm up to stop him. "Easy. It's pretty sore". "Do you need to see a doctor?" Justin was worried; he'd never seen Brian sick. He'd seen him hung over and high, but had never known him take to his bed because he was hurt or unwell before. "No, it's nothing to worry about. I'll be okay …… I just needed some rest, that's all". "Okay”, replied Justin, getting to his feet. “Are you hungry? Do you want anything? I can order something in ….. Chinese …... pizza?" "Anything. I don't mind ….. I'm not really that hungry". "Okay, then we can chill out in front of the TV if you’re up to it, or I can go and get a couple of DVD's we can watch", and he headed for the phone in the living room. “Whatever. Call me when the food’s here”, and Brian lay back on the pillows. He hardly felt like eating, but he didn’t want to worry Justin; he would have to make things appear as normal as possible. 45 minutes later, Justin paid the delivery boy and then set the boxes of Chinese food out on the table, fetching plates and bottles of water from the kitchen. “Brian, dinner’s here ….. Brian?” and Justin put his head around the glass screens, puzzled why the man hadn’t attempted to get up; he was sure he must have heard their meal being delivered. “Huh?” “Hey, I said the food’s here”. Justin spoke softly. He sensed something was wrong, but Brian obviously wasn’t ready to talk about it. But then again, when was he ever willing to come out and say what was really bugging him. “Okay …… give me a minute”. Carefully, Brian swung his legs out of bed and using the nightstand for support, got to his feet. He took a gulp of air. Thankfully, his breathing had started to ease a little, but the ache he felt inside was more than just physical. Something deep down made him feel like he’d had the very core of him ripped out; that something very precious had been taken from him. And it was like he was watching this happen to someone else. The viciousness of the assault and reawakened memories of his childhood had left their marks plain enough, but in order for everything to seem normal, he had to try at least to push it to the back of his mind; detach himself from it and carry on as if nothing had happened. But the shock of reality left his head spinning and unable to process the normal, everyday occurrence happening around him. Barefooted, he slowly padded down the steps and stood, vacantly watching Justin open up the cartons. “I hope this is okay …… I just ordered a little of everything”, and Justin sat at the table, expecting Brian to join him. When he hadn’t moved, Justin looked round at him. “Brian, what’s wrong? Are you going to eat?” “Hmm?” Brian shook his head to clear his mind. “Sorry, I …. Do you think we could sit on the sofa instead?” Justin got up and went over to him. “You really are hurting aren’t you?” and he went to put his arm around Brian’s waist to help him reach the comfort of the sofa. “It’s okay, I don’t need your help”, and before Justin could touch him, Brian moved away. The blond could see he was suffering, but it hurt to think that Brian wouldn’t allow him to help. He watched as Brian lowered himself slowly onto the sofa and then served up the food, taking the plates and placing them on the coffee table in front of him, before returning for the water and collecting forks to use instead of the chopsticks, from the kitchen drawer. He passed Brian his plate before sitting down himself and picking up the TV remote. Surfing through the channels, he settled on a movie and they ate in silence. Glancing at him whilst they ate, Justin couldn’t help but notice how Brian only picked at his food, eating only a small portion before he placed his fork back on his plate. Justin took it off him and put it on the table. “Thanks ... I really wasn’t that hungry”. “That’s okay. Why don’t I go out now and get those DVD’s ……..” "Justin, it's Saturday night, it’s still early. You don't have to baby-sit me just 'cos I don't feel up to doing much. Go out …… go to Babylon …… pick up some hot guy and fuck your brains out, but please …… don't stay in on my account". Strangely, Brian was feeling suddenly stifled by Justin’s presence. He felt him watching him; wanting to help him; something he was never very good at accepting. He could also tell that Justin knew something was wrong, but there was no way he was going to let on what that was. Justin could tell by the edge in Brian’s voice that he didn’t really want him around right now. Why did he always do this, push him away when all he ever wanted to do was to be there for him? Was he pissed at him? Had he done something he wasn’t aware of? Realising he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Brian tonight, Justin got up and put the dirty plates in the kitchen. “Okay ... I don’t like to leave you ... but I know it’s useless trying to be with you when you’re like this. Call me if you need anything and I’ll be back later”, and Justin picked up the jacket he’d removed when he’d first arrived. As he was about to go out the door, Brian called him back. “Justin, do something for me?" and Justin turned back to face him. "Be careful who you pick up and just use the back room ... okay ..." "You’re right …… we should be more careful right now”. Brian closed his eyes, the thought that something like this might happen to Justin …... The blond smiled at him before crossing the floor back to the sofa and leaning down to give him a kiss. “I promise”, he whispered. And with that Justin turned around and left. To be continued. July 2004