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Not Damsels, not Knights

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AN: seriously, folks, head the warnings. If you've read any of my other fics, you know. This contains torture and rape. This is a rough and bloody one, so watch for triggers. You have been warned.

 

“Lie down and put your hands on the headboard.” Riko orders.

Neil obeys because if he doesn't, this would be Andrew lying beneath some sick rapist bastard. Obeying Riko is survival, not submission. Slowly Neil lies on his back and stretches his arms. Jean catches his wrists and cuffs them in place with what appears to be police-grade handcuffs. When he begins to struggle, Riko presses the knife down harder. Neil tastes blood, can feel it drip down his face.

“I am going to make this as terrible as I know how. When it's too much for you, don't hesitate to cry.” Riko's breath is hot in Neil's ear.

He sits on the bed, facing Neil. The few inches in height difference between them feels like Riko is towering above him. He stares at Neil with open desire-- desire to make him bleed and scream and beg. He hasn't even touched his victim yet, but Riko's pants are tenting at the crotch like he enjoys the power play. He's getting off on even just the thought of hurting the prey before him.

“I am going to love hurting you.” Riko traces the outline of Neil's full lips with the blade. Neil has enough sense not to move. “I couldn't hurt Kevin, not like I really wanted to. He was ‘family’. You can't fuck family.”

“You are one seriously fucked up individual.” Fear makes Neil lash out. Riko slips the blade into Neil's open mouth. He presses just enough to break the skin.

“I hate you,” Neil says, despite the blade in his mouth.

Obeying Riko is survival, not submission. Slowly Neil lies on his back and stretches his arms. Jean catches his wrists and cuffs them in place with what appears to be police-grade handcuffs. When he begins to struggle, Riko presses the knife down harder. Neil tastes blood, can feel it drip down his face. His heart races in his chest. He quits struggling in favor of just testing the cuffs. The bed frame doesn't move. He's trapped. With the knife in his mouth holding Neil still, Jean strips him bare.

“Who is your king, Nathaniel?” Riko asks with that ravenous look. He grinds down on Neil's naked hips.

“Fuck you! You're nothing.”

Neil spits in his face, the only thing that displays the disgust he feels. For a moment Riko is still, like he can't believe what his prey has done. Slowly he wipes the saliva off of his cheek, eyeing it. He wipes it off on Neil's bare thigh, taking the time to stroke his skin. He grips Neil's jaw in a bruising grip, and pries it open to spit inside his mouth. He clamps his hand over Neil's lips so he can't cough it back up.

“Hold his legs.” Jean rushes to obey Riko's order. Jean grabs an ankle in a bruising grip, snatching it as Neil kicks out in his struggle. He begins cuffing his ankles to the bed frame. Riko leans close to whisper to Neil.

“I'm doing you a favor, Nathaniel. I'm going to give you a little insight into Andrew's past. Help you understand the psycho.” His breath is hot and moist against Neil's ear. “Though I'm not sure he'll want you when I've finished with you.”

Neil's stomach turns at the implications. He had thought the rape threat was a bluff until now. “You're sick.”

“I am going to make this as terrible as I know how. When it's too much for you, don't hesitate to cry.”

Riko doesn't bother beating him-- Neil is already a bruised mess from Tetsuji's caning, and Exy practice. Instead, he pulls his knife from Neil's mouth. He starts at Neil's shoulders with his knife blade. His cuts are hurried and deep enough to need stitching later, but they weren't truly severe. Neil already bares scars from worse.

Neil bounces between the unpleasant reality, screaming under Riko's blade, and flashbacks. He remembers being five years old, and his fathers face staring down at him with disdain. The Butcher was a murderer, not a torturer, but he made an exception when Neil had been bad. He used cut down the young flesh of Neil's soft back, and his shoulders, and his pudgy stomach. He hit him with hot irons and pans; had broken his fingers and toes when he did badly in his knife training. Neil tries to fight these memories-- he has to stay in the moment, with his torturer in the present.

After Neil's chest was a bloody and stained mess, Riko moved down to his abdomen. Neil's stomach was tight and muscled-- he had a runner's body, but his muscles were built from playing with heavy Exy racquets. His skin was pale all over, a match to his natural looks, his red hair and freckles, his blue eyes; his looks betrayed his father's heritage. Neil looked delectable covered in blood, his blue eyes hazy from pain and injury and a good bit of shock.

Neil's fists have been clenched into the wood of the headboard, but his wrists are rubbed bloody from the cold metal cuffs. Riko's knife begins cuts into the insides of his thighs, skinning the flesh away.

“I am your king, Nathaniel. Beg my forgiveness. Beg me to stop.”

“Fuck you! You're nothing.” Neil growls. Suddenly, he understands why Andrew hated the word ‘please.’ Neil knows he will never say the word again.

It's not his best retort, but he keeps the tremble from his voice, hoarse from screaming. Riko ignores Neil in favor of stripping himself. Neil can hear the rustle of clothes, and a zipper.

“Jean, grab his leg. Spread him.” Riko orders as he strips. Neil had all but forgotten that Jean was still in the room. He holds Neil's ankle in an iron grip-- not that Neil could struggle much. Jean wretches it up and out at an angle that was painful, despite Neil's flexibility. His hips begin to ache immediately.

Riko arranges himself between Neil's spread legs. Neil can feel Riko's erection pressing against his rear-- too close. Neil trembles, but does not beg. Riko is hard and wanting from watching Neil bleed. Neil screams as he forces his way inside.

Neil has never had sex-- has only kissed that one French-Canadian girl when he was 13. His mother had beaten him black and blue for it, too. Neil had considered himself asexual until Andrew had come barreling into his life. Neil had barely spared a thought to sex, but he never thought it would hurt so much.

He screams like someone might come to his rescue. He screams himself hoarse, until his throat is raw and aching. He wishes he could be like Andrew-- cold and detached, taking it like just another obstacle in his way.

Riko fucks him like his goal is to wretch every whimper and scream from Neil. Like he wants to bruise and tear Neil apart. It's a punishment worse than Tetsuji's caning. He savors every noise that Neil makes; at some point he cries out for a name that sounds curiously like ‘Andrew’, but his screams distort it. He does not beg.

“When I am done with you, there will be no mistaking who you belong to.”

 

He wakes suddenly, but the combination of pain, sleep deprivation, and confusion makes him sluggish. Neil is slow to realize, but quick to react, to strike out at the thing touching him. He's pinned on his stomach to the mattress, with a weight pinning him down. He knows what Riko feels like on top of him, enough to identify it again now. He tears at Neil's sweatpants and boxers, and takes what he wants.

Neil isn't safe when he sleeps. Riko likes catching him unawares, enjoys touching him, either to fuck him or just beat him, while he is soft and confused from sleep. He begins to fight exhaustion, and to stay awake to fend off Riko all night. Neil learns to wake up fighting, swinging like he had seen Andrew do so many times. It doesn't help much-- Riko always gets what he wants, in the end.

 

Jean tries not to intervene, but obeys Riko when given a direct order-- ‘hold his legs’, ‘hand me that’, ‘hold him down’; some were worse, when Riko felt like playing head games, telling Jean to touch him, stroke him, kiss him. Jean would whisper in French, telling Neil how much he hated him. Telling him how easy it was, how clumsy he is on the court. How much or a liability he is. It's better than Riko, who tells him how pretty he is. How much he loves hearing Neil's pretty scream and seeing his pretty tears. He calls Neil a slut, a whore, the Jezebel of Exy. But worst, he reminds Neil that he deserves it; that he volunteered to be there. Neil agreed to this.

 

“Who is your King, Nathaniel?”

Neil doesn't answer-- his face is too bruised to use his words frivolously. It sets Riko into a Fury, that Neil dares to ignore him. His temper is easier to ignite today. ‘Tis the season, Neil thinks.

Riko kneels on his chest to hold him down. Neil tries to buck the men off, but he's still cuffed to the bed. Jean hands Riko a tattoo gun and sets a black well within reach. The needle buzzes in Neil's ear, even above the rush of blood in his ears. He thrashes, trying to get away. Jeans nails tear into his face. Riko holds the needle threatening, above Neil's eye. He freezes.

“If you don't hold still, I will blind you.”

Neil doesn't dare to even breath. Riko tattoos the number to his cheek; it's both a promise and a collar that said who he belonged to. Riko enjoys fucking him more now. He gets off on seeing Neil's face finally tagged as HIS. After he has finished he hands Jean and Neil to the other Ravens. He tells them to use them as they want, as a Christmas gift. They leave Neil and Jean unconscious on the floor. After all, Neil's punishment is Jean's punishment, and the Frenchman is only property, too. It's not a very merry fucking Christmas.

 

It only takes one of the Ravens to force Neil to the floor face first-- knees against the back of Neil's legs, one meaty arm braces against his thin shoulders. With his free arm he punched at Neil's back and sides until Neil stills and his kidneys bruise. Neil fights until he's weak and trembling. The other men keep Jean back, and Riko watched all of the backliners take turns with their little recruit.

Neil's screams echo through the lockers for hours. Neil's voice is so strained it's barely audible when he looks up at Riko with tears in his eyes.

“King.”

The man fucking him laughs in his ear. Riko looks amused, but not pleased.

“What was that?”

“King,” Neil tries to be louder, but it comes out raspy and wrecked. He stutters with every harsh thrust.

“Beg me. Beg your King to make them stop.”

“K-King.” Neil forces the words through clenched teeth. His eyes are closed right, unwilling to look at Riko. “M-make them st-stop. King.”

“Look at me when you beg.” Neil forces his eyes open. He tried to hide it, but Riko can read the pain and hatred there. And he doesn't make them stop. He laughs and tells Neil it isn't good enough and lets the backliners get back to abusing him.

 

The three weeks-- no, that's not right, it's only been two weeks, Ravens run on different schedule from the rest of the world. Riko holds a folder and a pen to Neil. The Ravens press close, like the pressure will make Neil sign the contract.

“Sign it.”

“Never. I'm a fox.” Neil's voice is hoarse from screaming, and he can't remember a time when even breathing did not hurt.

Riko grins at him like he can taste Neil's blood. He already has, every time he bit into Neil's yielding flesh. His shoulders, chest, and back are covered in teeth marks. His ankles and wrists are shredded from fighting the cuffs at the end of every day. His back hurts, and he hasn't felt his legs in days, save for flashes of pain. He can barely raise his arms after today's practice. In short, he is ripe for the picking, and Riko and the Ravens have free reign as they try to make Neil sign the contract. They aren't afraid of breaking him now.

“I was hoping you would say that.” Riko grins, manic.

The Ravens have fun tearing Neil to pieces, like it's another team building exercise. Maybe it is. They beat him first, if not only because it was easier to manage him when he was weak and hurting. By the time Riko calls them off, Neil is unrecognizable from the bruising to his pretty face. He passed out from the trauma. While Neil was unconscious, someone strips him naked. Riko orders someone revives him with a pitcher of iced water poured over him. It's nothing like waterboarding Jean had been, but they don't have time for that.

Riko cuts into him like a doll, cuts designs up and down his arms and legs, and finds a few unmarred pieces of flash on his shoulders and stomach. On his back, Riko carves his name into the space at the small of Neil's back, just where his ass starts to slope.

They take turns fucking him. Riko is first-- he's number one, after all. The King. The rest hold him down and wait their turn. They all get one. Neil is certain that he must have torn something inside, but he can't tell if he's bleeding, or if it's Riko's cum dripping down his thighs. The rest of the team wear condoms, but Riko is privileged. He knows Neil had been a virgin before him, and doesn't worry about contracting a sickness.

Neil fades in and out of consciousness while they dye his hair back to its natural color. They torture him for hours, trying to force him to sign the contract. It seems to never end.