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Deprivation of Innocence

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Day One.

In hindsight, Peter deeply regrets complaining about the class trip being boring. He also regrets barely talking to Aunt May in the morning, too focused on scrolling through his pointless Instagram feed, liking pictures of pets, boring selfies and promo pics for the next Star Wars movie. Now, that Peter is scared shitless that he will never see May again, he wonders why the fuck he didn’t he tell her how much he loved her, and hates himself for not even kissing or hugging her goodbye. Instead, he just left, expecting to return to her after school like every other day before that. Apparently, neither the deaths of both his parents, nor the brutal murder of Uncle Ben have managed to teach him anything about ‘living every day as if it were your last’.

Thinking back, the class trip hasn’t been that boring altogether. Sure, there are more exciting things than walking around a museum looking at old bank notes and ancient printing machines, but Peter would rather be on this trip for the rest of the school year than at the mercy of armed, masked bank robbers. He doesn’t know how they managed to overpower the security guards and outsmart both the alarm system and the detectors scanning visitors and their belongings for metal objects, but somehow, they’d done it.

At 11 o’clock sharp, an explosion in the adjacent main building of the American Bank Note Printing Plant had made everyone inside the museum jump, and only seconds later, three armed men in blue jumpsuits, hoods and carnival masks stormed in, yelling at everyone to raise their hands, drop their bags, and hand over their phones before ordering them to hurry over to the ‘bank’, as they called it. Shortly after Peter, his class and a dozen other visitors of the museum had arrived in the main hall, more and more people – hostages - joined them.

All of this happened fifteen minutes ago, and now Peter’s kneeling on the cold floor, trembling, aching hands still clutching the back of his head. Most girls and women he can see are outright sobbing, including MJ, who usually manages to stay calm even in hairy situations. Peter can’t blame them, though. He’s on the verge of tears too and when he’s glancing over to Ned, he realizes he’s not the only one.

Suddenly, deafening gunfire echoes through the hall and everyone starts to scream. MJ seems to forget that she’s supposed to have her hands up and clings to Peter in sheer panic, who instinctively wraps his arms around his girlfriend protectively, failing at holding back his own tears any longer.

“SILENCE!” A voice roars through the hall and everyone flinches in fear. Some even scream again. Peter forces himself to look up at the man standing on top of the stairs leading to the upper floor, holding a big automatic rifle. Is he the one who’s been shooting seconds ago?

“Excellent,” the man yells. Although he’s wearing a mask, Peter is pretty sure he’s grinning. “Now that I have your full attention, let me introduce myself. My name is Manhattan and the charming people in the fancy overalls and masks are my dear and loyal friends, Brooklyn” – the man’s pointing at someone standing near the entrance – “Russia,” – a smaller person right next to Iron Man is lifting a hand – “Indiana, Sokovia, Norway, Pennsylvania,” – the four people guarding the hostages – “Iowa and Harlem.” The last two are lurking at the upper floor’s railing, pointing their rifles down at the frightened group. “You can call us the Avengers. Ladies and Gentlemen, may I congratulate you? After all, you’re the lucky ones who have been elected by fate to be eyewitnesses to the greatest. bank heist in fucking  history.”

At those words, a lot of the hostages are wailing hysterically, forcing Manhattan to call for silence again.

“If you do what we tell you to do, then you have nothing to fear. We’re not here to hurt you, we only want the money. However, if anyone of you think they can be a hero, we’re not gonna hesitate to splatter your brain matter all over those nice white tiles, you got that?”

MJ whimpers and presses her face into the crook of Peter’s neck.

“At this point, I should probably mention that there are bombs on all windows and exit doors, meaning that every escape attempt will end fatally, not only for you, but also for the people standing close to you as well. You’re gonna be searched now, and I suggest you hand over all your electronic devices and sharp or dangerous objects if you don’t want us to hurt you. In exchange, you’ll receive a few presents from us to get you settled in all nice and comfortable. Brooklyn will take it from here.”

The man turned around and walks out of Peter’s visual range.

“Get up!” the man who’s standing at the entrance shouts and comes closer. “Hands up in the air again and don’t try to be funny, alright?”

“I don’t want them touching me, please, don’t let them touch me,” Peter heard Betty whisper frantically to his right. The blonde girl doesn’t seem to be speaking to him, though; she’s gazing into space. MJ unfortunately heard her and whimpers again.

“I won’t let those men touching you,” Peter whispers soothingly in her ear and kisses her temple before raising to his feet, holding up his hands as ordered.

“Don’t worry,” Brad, who’s right in front of Peter, MJ, Ned and Betty, mumbles. “I think those two are women.”

Indeed, two of the criminals are slightly smaller and less bulky than the others, and when they get closer, Peter can spot long, somewhat curly hair beneath the hoods and masks. To his greatest relief, those two are searching the women, whereas two of the others are frisking the men.

“Shouldn’t we be doing something?” Brad whispers.

“What do you mean?” Flash, who’s standing next to him, hisses.

“If we’re attacking them at the same time, maybe we can overpower them-“

“Don’t be stupid,” Peter cuts him off, “there are six of them down here and two of them watching from the railing. They are all armed.”

“From what we know, it could have been blank ammunition.”

“Peter’s right,” Ned says, “it’s too risky.”

Brad snorts and looks at Michelle challengingly. “You’ve chosen yourself a really brave boyfriend, you know that?”

“You’re such a dick,” Michelle growls, fear forgotten for a second, “How can you-“

“Ssh,” Peter hisses warningly; one of the captors seems to be looking right at them.

Two minutes later, one of the female robbers is frisking Michelle, whereas Peter’s getting searched by two large, rough-looking male hands. He shivers unpleasantly when the hands feel up his upper body, ass and thighs. When they move to the front, they even brush against his crotch briefly.

Ten minutes later, the Avengers are done frisking the hostages and they are finally allowed to lower their hands.

“Alright, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” the guy who Peter thinks is Brooklyn, says. “There are a few rules you’ll have to keep in mind, but first, we’ll be handing out water and sandwiches before we’ll let you use the bathroom. I wished I could tell you that this will be over soon, but we’re gonna be here for a few days.”

Some of the hostages immediately star to sob or scream hysterically again, whereas Peter gasps in shock. “W-what does he mean, a-a few days?”

There is so much uproar that Brooklyn has to fire into the air to shut the hostages up again.

“As we said, if you don’t act up, we won’t hurt you, and this will be over before you know it. We have enough medication and food for all of you. First, though, we’re gonna be handing out overalls, masks, and fake rifles and guns. You are to change into the overalls and leave them on at all times, but you can leave the masks off unless we tell you to put them on.”

“W-what, I don’t… I don’t get it.” Betty seems terrified. “Why w-would they want us to-to look like them?”

“If we look alike, the FBI won’t be able to distinguish between captors and hostages when they raid the place,” Peter says, trying desperately to keep his voice from shaking, but failing miserably.

Chapter Text

Day One.

“How many hostages?”

“57, a few more than expected, but manageable. They’ve switched to the overalls already, we let them use the toilet and handed out some sandwiches, just like you wanted.”

Tony can almost hear Bruce frowning. “Like I wanted?”

“Well, you know I would have let them stay hungry for a while. This isn’t a hotel, after all.”

“You’ll only risk a panic or an uprising if you don’t give them food and water, Tony.”

“Not if I kill the first one to rebel.”

Bruce sighs. “You know that killing a hostage is the last thing we should be doing, unless it is absolutely inevitable. Also, if you want them to respect us, you can’t-“

“I don’t want them to respect us. I want them to fear us.”

“Whatever. Just… call me if anything happens. Are the machines running?”

“Not yet. We’ll take a few of the employees down there soon, though. How are things out there?”

“There’s a live stream on almost every channel. According to what I’ve seen on TV, there are more than 100 officers from the NYPD and FBI on duty. Naturally, there are units of the SWAT and Hostage Rescue Team as well. The Trojans are working though, I can hear some of the things being talked about, which is why I don’t think it would be a mistake to send them a short vital sign.”

They exchange a few more words before Tony radios for Rhodey and Thor. “Ohio thinks we should do our first stream to prevent them from charging in immediately. If we give them a foretaste of what they’re dealing with, we’ll probably be safe for the next twelve to twenty-four hours.”

“You can call him Bruce in front of us, Tony,” Rhodey chuckles.

Tony acts like he hasn’t heard him. “Take one of the hostages’ phones and start a stream. Make sure to tape the front camera and to turn it off again as soon as you’re done.”

“Got it.”

Tony sighs and leans back in his chair, grinning in pleasant anticipation. What he would give too see the FBI agents faces when they realize that this is unlike anything they’ve dealt with before. Now, that he’s thinking about it… he should probably go watch them do the stream. Two minutes later, Tony’s standing at the railing, just in time to hear Steve giving instructions. He has an arm around a middle-aged female who’s sobbing despicably.

“Thank you, Naomi, for letting us use your phone. Now, listen closely: we’re gonna make a short video. You’re ought to stay completely silent, or you’ll be shot. You’re ought to leave your mask on, or you’ll be shot. My friends will also show you how to hold your weapons properly.”

Steve then motions the woman to go back to the group and put on her mask. A few minutes later, Bucky does a short, somewhat creepy vertical pan of the silent group. A few of the hostages are trembling so violently that Tony can see it from up here, but it doesn’t really matter; the FBI will most likely get the hint. He walks back into the director’s office he’s made camp in, where fifteen minutes later, Natasha, Wanda and Rhodey join him to eat some snacks for dinner.

“We split them into two groups, employees and visitors. Apparently, we’ve caught ourselves a bunch of High School kids,” Natasha says and takes a bite off a sandwich.

Tony growls in annoyance. “The last thing I need are some whiney, stupid teenagers and a protective teacher.”

“Their teacher is a joke,” Wanda chuckles, “I think he’s more scared than his students are.”

“Well, make sure to keep a close eye on them,” Tony urges.

“I’d be more worried about Bucky and Clint, to be honest,” Natasha huffs, “I saw them checking out the female hostages a little too excitedly.”

“So? They knows they’re not supposed to touch anyone.”

“Good.”

Tony can’t resist rolling his eyes behind her back. “What’s the plan for the rest of the night?”

“Clint will take some of the workers to the printing machine. Him and Thor will be watching them. Steve will lay down just like me, Nat and Rhodey,” Wanda says. “At midnight, me and Steve will take new workers down, whereas Thor and Clint will go to sleep. Rhodey and Nat are gonna change with Sam and Bucky.”

“Excellent.”

Later on, Tony receives another call from Bruce, who’s telling him that both the FBI agents, as well as the public are completely taken aback by the fact that the hostages are forced to look exactly like the kidnappers, postponing all possible rescue plans for now. Also, they still haven’t figured out the real plan and are wondering why the bank robbers haven’t made any demands yet.

Grinning smugly, Tony lies down onto the rather comfortable leather couch to catch a few hours of sleep. He knows he can rely on the other Avengers; after all, they’ve been friends and partners in crime for quite some time now. Admittedly, they’ve never executed anything as big as this, but Tony and Bruce, who are probably two of the smartest men in the world, have worked on the plan meticulously for five years. It will work out just fine, Tony’s sure about it.

However, a few hours later, he’s awakened from his surprisingly deep sleep by a few loud gunshots. Only seconds later, Rhodey comes running into his room.

“We need you downstairs. There’s been an incident.”

“What fucking incident?” Tony growls. He’s up in seconds and heads after the man, making sure to grab his mask and weapons on the way out.

“I didn’t see it, but some fucking kid apparently thought it was a good idea to hit Bucky across the face, and then some of the other hostages tried to take away his weapon. Sam was firing into the air just when I arrived at the stairs, so I was able to help him keeping them contained.”

“Is anybody hurt?”

“Yeah, Bucky, but I don’t think it’s that bad. They weren’t able to take his weapon.”

Tony’s seething. He’s always expected someone to play the hero eventually, but not this early on. As they are running past the other offices, Steve, Natasha and Wanda burst out from other offices and join them, asking what the fuck happened. A minute later, they’re at the top of the stairs, looking down at the terrified crowd of hostages kneeling on the ground with their hands up in the air.

Tony applauds loudly, successfully gaining him everyone’s attention. “I gotta say, I’m impressed,” the man snarls, climbing down the stairs slowly. “I already had a feeling you’d be stupid, but I didn’t expect you to be this stupid. Guess at least some of you do have a serious death wish, though.”

Tony has reached the end of the stairs where he’s towering over the kneeling hostages for a while before starting to walk tardily towards Sam and a slightly bleeding Bucky. Most hostages are staring down to the ground in fear, some sobbing even more severely than earlier. There’s a small group separated from the others; two male adults and six younger looking kids, two of them female.

“Are these our heroes?” Tony asks Sam, who nods. “Who started it?”

“The one to the right.”

Tony doesn’t see the kid clearly because he has his head bowed even further than the others. The only thing he can make out is his slightly curly hair and tender, rather small body which is shaking so terribly in the oversized overall it’s truly a delicious sight. Too bad he had to die.

Tony cocks his gun. “Bring him to me.”

“NO, p-please!” The girl sitting right next to the boy screams, sobbing hysterically. “PLEASE, he didn’t do anything, PLEASE!”

“Shut your fucking mouth or you’ll be next!” Tony yells, trying to ignore the other sobs and cries coming from all around him. A crying, quite chubby boy speaks up next. “P-Please, he only tried to protect-“

This time, Steve’s firing up in the air, successfully shutting everyone off once more. Meanwhile, Bucky has dragged the teenaged vigilante over, who seems too shocked or frightened to fight back. He’s thrown down to the ground flat on his stomach, right in front of Tony’s feet, sobbing despicably. Tony laughs spitefully when the boy tries to protect his head with his mere hands, and points his weapon down, unable to resist poking the barrel of the rifle onto the back of the kid’s right hand.

“Any last words?”

“P-please, d-don’t kill me, I’m j-just a kid.” His voice is extremely muffled, but Tony understood him.

“I warned you about being a hero, boy. You should’ve listened.”

“I-I d-didn’t-“

“Did I allow you to speak again? I said last words, not penultimate,” Tony spits, ripping an agonizing sound from the kid’s throat. The girl with the extremely curly hair is wailing horridly at this point, providing Tony with a vicious idea. The corners of his mouth turn upwards in the sweetest smile. “Hey, but you know what? I’m not a monster; you can stop crying now.”

It’s as if Tony turned a switch. The whole hall becomes deadly quiet all of a sudden, most of them holding in their breaths, full of hope. The wanna-be hero even lifts his head a few inches and visibly relaxes the grip on his head, causing Tony to grin widely beneath his mask. Those fools.

Without warning, he grabs the boy’s hair and starts pulling him upwards. “I’ll allow you to look your girlfriend in the eye when I blow your brains out!”

The kid’s friends, especially the supposed girlfriend and the chubby one, cry out in despair. “NO, please!”

Tony laughs wickedly and yanks the small boy around to finally get a better look at him.

And then, he freezes in shock. The boy, who’s glancing at him beseechingly, looks like a fucking twink. Not just any twink…the most beautiful, perfect twink the man has ever laid eyes on. Pearls of sweat are slowly running from the kid’s temple down to his rosy cheeks, where they’re mingling with the tears coming out of his innocent doe-like eyes. Not to mention the boy’s lips… Tony could probably fill pages describing his delicate, thin red lips.

He snaps out of it only when Rhodey whispers “Manhattan?” right into his ear. Tony turns around, somewhat perplexed, but then he remembers that they’re using codenames. That fucking kid made him forget that they were in the middle of a bank heist, or rather, in the middle of an execution.

“Pennsylvania, I think I just had an epiphany. Take the boy upstairs into my office. I feel like having a chat with our little superhero after all.”

Chapter Text

Day Two.

Peter’s eyes widen, but before he can try to wrap his mind around why Manhattan doesn’t want to execute him anymore all of a sudden, the man loosens the grip on his hair and tosses him over to the other man. Pennsylvania immediately starts to drag him away, but Peter manages a last, swift glance to MJ and Ned, who still seem desperate, but also somewhat hopeful regarding the change of events. He silently mouths ‘Love you’ before he’s forced up the stairs, around the corner and along a corridor. After about two minutes, the man motions him to go through a big, wooden door leading into an expensive looking office with a desk, a few chairs, four of them with armrests, and a leather couch.

“Go stand at the table, and don’t fucking move or talk.”

Peter gulps. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to try and explain what really happened, so he rather stays silent. Hopefully, Manhattan will give him a chance to explain himself…after all, he said he wanted to have a chat with him, right?

It takes about five minutes until the supposed boss of the captors comes back. He whispers something into Pennsylvania’s ear, who nods and walks towards Peter. “Move over to the radiator.”

The boy twirls around; underneath the window, which is hidden behind dark curtains, is indeed a radiator, but why would they want him to-

He winces when Pennsylvania pulls out a thick cable tie from the pocket of his overall but before he can even think about pleading with them, he’s already gripped by his hair once again and dragged over the floor mercilessly. Eventually, he’s smashed against the radiator, and a few seconds later, his hands are already tied behind his back, secured to the pipe so painfully tight they’ll probably go numb in minutes. Pennsylvania then exits the room, leaving Peter alone with Manhattan.

The boy can feel that the man is looking at him intently, sending a shiver down his spine. He shifts slightly, adjusting his hands as much as he can to be a little more comfortable, but he can hardly move. Peter flinches when Manhattan pulls one of the leather chairs forward and sits down directly in front of him. “I really hate teenagers, you know? You’re arrogant, ignorant, and most of all, fucking stupid.”

“P-please, I-I didn’t mean to-to cause trouble. I-I’m sorry.”

Manhattan gives a fake laugh. “You hit one of my men and tried to take away his weapon.”

“N-no, I-“

He screams when Manhattan’s fist collides with the left side of his face so violently that his whole body is thrown to the right, with only the cable tie, cutting into his skin agonizingly, preventing him from falling over. Peter can taste blood in his mouth, and before he knows it, he’s sobbing again.

“I also hate liars, kid. Also, you ought to address me as sir when you’re speaking to me.”

“S-sorry sir. I… I did h-hit him, but only because he-he touched M-Michelle. I didn’t k-know they w-would try to overpower him.”

“Indiana touched who? Your girlfriend?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Peter says, feeling a little more confident. “S-she asked f-for some water, a-and when he g-gave it to her h-he touch her b-breast. He d-didn’t know I w-wasn’t sleeping, b-but when he p-pressed her down I…I k-kicked his legs and p-punched him. S-some of the others w-woke up and I d-don’t really know w-what happened t-then.”

“So you never meant to overpower him to escape?”

Peter almost sighed in relief. “N-no. P-please, sir, I-“

“Instead, you were playing the hero in an effort to ‘protect’ your girlfriend from what? Indiana touching her little girl boobs over a bra, shirt and jumpsuit? I bet she was totally into it.”

Peter whimpers and lowers his gaze. He didn’t expect the man to be this cruel. “I-I’m sorry, sir. It w-won’t happen again, I s-swear, please!”

“What’s your name?”

“P-Peter. Peter P-Parker, sir.”

“Peter Parker… I like that.”

Anxious, Peter raises his head. He gasps when Manhattan suddenly takes off both hood and mask, taking him completely off-guard. Piercing brown eyes are looking down at him, one just a tiny bit darker than the other, and the man’s sporting a neat, recently-trimmed goatee with only a few grey strings of hair, matching the color of his hair. Although Peter’s not gay, he’s quite certain the guy has a lot of suitors. “My name is Tony.”

Why would he...? When the man takes the gun from his holster, Peter thinks he knows. There’s no way Tony would tell him his name and show him his face if he didn’t intend to-

“Please!” Peter cries in despair, “P-please, sir, don’t do this. I-I’ll do anything you-”

He’s shut off by Tony unlocking the gun and forcing it into his opened mouth. The boy lets out a muffled scream when the cold metal is pressed down on his tongue and almost makes him gag. He tries to withdraw his head, but Tony grabs his chin with his free hand, holding him in place.

“Do you promise you’ll be a good boy from now on? That you’ll do whatever I’m telling you to do?”

Peter tries to say yes, but he can hardly speak. “-es, bh-l-eez-!”

Spit is gathering in the corners of his mouth, slowly running down to his chin and onto Tony’s hand. Suddenly, the gun is taken out of his mouth, and even though the grip on his chin hasn’t loosened, Peter cries in relief.

“You’re lucky I have a weak spot for boys like you,” Tony grins, causing Peter’s heart to skip a beat. “And you’re extremely lucky I have never had someone as pretty as you at my mercy.”

Before Peter knows what’s happening, the man’s tongue is on the left side of his chin, licking away the tears on his cheek in one swift motion. It takes the boy a few seconds to snap out of his shocked state, but then he instinctively kicks his right leg against his captor’s left shinbone. Tony groans in pain and Peter knows he’s just made a huge, fucking mistake when he’s hit across the face again.

“YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

The man is outright furious with rage when he’s aiming his gun at Peter’s head. The boy closes his eyes and tears at the cable ties in panic. “P-please, I-I didn’t m-mean-“

He’s screaming hysterically when Tony’s gun goes off, but he doesn’t feel any new pain; only his ears are ringing due to the deafening sound of the gun shot.

“This was your last warning, kid,” the man hisses and only now Peter dares to open his eyes again, his view clouded by a veil of tears. “I will ask you one more time: will you be a good boy now?”

“Y-yes, s-sir, I’ll be g-good, p-please-“

“Proof it.”

“O-of course, I’ll do…”

However, Peter forgets what he was about to say. Instead, he watches in horror as Tony gets up and unbuttons the fly of his overall. “W-what-“

“Tell me, Peter, who’s the bigger cock whore, you, or your little bitch?”

Panic and dread are crawling through Peter’s veins, spreading like ice, when Tony pulls his fully erect, large cock out of his pants. “O-oh my g-god you…you c-can’t… P-please, I-“

Peter whimpers pitifully when Tony presses the still warm gun barrel to his right temple. “Don’t tell me what I can, and can’t, boy. Open your mouth.”

Peter’s sobbing has come close to hyperventilating at this point. Is this what Tony has brought him up for? Forcing him to suck his dick before killing him after all? He desperately tries to yank his arms free from the radiator pipe yet again, but it only sends a rush of pain through his left, slightly twisted shoulder. He’s completely helpless when Tony’s bending forward, and Peter quickly closes his eyes in disgust when the man’s penis touches his sealed mouth, smearing pre-cum all over his lips.

Now. Bite me, and I’ll pull the trigger.

Defeated, Peter hesitantly opens his mouth as wide as he can, unable to suppress another sob when Tony pushes in, giving him a taste of his bitter pre-ejaculate. The thought of having his captor’s dick in his mouth, let alone the smell and taste of it, is enough to make Peter retch.

“If you throw up, you’re gonna lick up every single drop, got it?”

The boy has never been more humiliated or scared in his life. New tears are spilling from his closed eyes when he nods, desperately trying to withstand the urge to vomit. Without warning, Tony pushes in further, causing Peter to gag once again when the cock’s head brushes against the roof of his mouth. He’s starting to drool horribly and tries to swallow some of the spit despite having his mouth stretched painfully wide, but it only makes him cough.

“Mmh, that feels good, do that again,” Tony groans and jerks his hips forward, causing the tip of his cock to hit the back of Peter’s throat. The boy’s stomach clenches when he’s gagging yet again, and this time, he can even taste a little bit of gastric juice in his mouth. Fighting the agonizing urge to throw up had to be the hardest thing Peter has ever done, but somehow, he manages to hold back.

His torture is far from being over, though. Tony is still buried so deep inside his mouth that it’s getting hard to breathe, especially because his nose is stuffy from the ongoing sobbing. To Peter’s great relief, Tony suddenly withdraws his dick, but only a second later, he pushes back in so far that its tip hits the back of the boy’s throat again.

“Fuck, Peter Parker… you mouth feels like heaven. I’m sure it was made for sucking my dick.” The boy whimpers miserably, causing Tony to chuckle. “Do me a favor and open your pretty eyes for me, will you?”

Peter knows that it’s not a request; it’s an apodictic demand, which is why he forces his burning eyes open. He has no idea how he’s supposed to look the man in the eyes from this angle, but he’s trying nonetheless. Tony seems to come to the same conclusion, because a second later, his left hand’s grabbing a handful of his curls, tilting his head backwards until it hits the wall.

“That’s it,” the man grins and starts to rock his hips back and forth, rather slow at first, but gaining speed fast until he’s literally fucking Peter’s mouth so brutally that his balls are smacking against the boy’s chin. Every other trust, the man pushes in so agonizingly deep that his cock is filling Peter’s whole mouth and throat, causing the boy to choke gruesomely. The fourth time it happens, Tony stays buried inside his mouth for so long that the teenager thinks he’s about to suffocate. He struggles fiercely, but the cable tie doesn’t give an inch, and the way Tony is bending over him, makes it impossible to knee or kick him. Just when he’s about to bite down despite having a gun pressed against his temple, Tony withdraws somewhat. Peter’s chest is moving with each greedy breath when he’s gasping for air, but he hardly gets time to compose himself when Tony’s already doing it again. Peter can’t help crying out in anguish, causing his captor to groan in pleasure.

Suddenly, Tony’s body jerks and his hips buckle forward even more, filling Peter’s abused throat and mouth with thick hot ropes of cum. The boy whimpers, unable to spit out, but refusing to swallow at the same time; it’s so much that Peter can feel some of it dripping out of his mouth and running down his chin. Finally, after what felt like minutes, Tony pulls out of him completely, drawing salvia and some more cum with him, but before the boy can even think of spitting out what’s left, his captor covers his wet mouth with his left hand.

“Swallow it.”

The man presses the gun barrel down even harder, and although it increases his urge to vomit even more, Peter eventually obeys.

“You missed something,” Tony says with a wicked grin, pointing at the tip of his cock before moving it closer to Peter’s mouth again. The boy sobs defeated when he sticks out his tongue and licks his captor’s tip clean. Afterwards, Tony actually tugs away his dick and puts the gun back into his holster, filling Peter with new hope that he won’t be killed off after all. He still winces fearfully when the man pulls a big knife out of his right leg pocket.

“You’ve made quite a mess of yourself,” Tony growls hungrily, pointing at Peter’s spit-and-cum-besmirched overall and staring down at him like he’s fucking edible. “I think I’ll better cut those dirty clothes off of you, right?”

Chapter Text

Day Two.

The sight of the trembling, crying boy in front of him fills Tony with joy and a certain longing. Again. Gosh, he can’t wait to see the kid naked and find out if his private parts look as boyish and young as the rest of his body.

Tony squats down in front of Peter and slowly opens the front zipper of the overall, ignoring his victim's sobs. He actually raises both eyebrows in surprise when he sees that the boy is wearing a nerdy shirt with a science pun printed on it that no ordinary person would understand. It makes him wonder if Peter is some kind of nerd or genius...

“I like your shirt, “Tony says, “but I’m afraid I like what’s underneath it even more.”

He chuckles and gently presses the tip of the knife into the skin of Peter’s cheekbone, not intending to draw blood just yet. He’s trailing the bone down to the jawline before moving it to the boy’s chin, which is smeared with half-dried spit and cum. Peter’s almost hyperventilating when Tony lets the knife dance around his swollen cherry-red lips the man has yet to taste, and with a smirk, he moves the blade over Peter’s neck. This time, he actually makes sure to cut the skin slightly, causing the boy to grunt in pain.

“Whoops,” Tony says, grinning evilly, “This is sharper than I thought. Guess I’ll clean that up.”

Seconds later, he presses his mouth against the cut he’s made, licking and sucking at the sore skin, turning Peter’s sobs into pathetic whimpers. Tony makes sure to let the boy feel the blade when he’s licking his way upwards to the kid’s lips, and then he finally kisses him for the first time.

Unsurprisingly, Peter’s not responding to it at all, but Tony doesn’t care; in fact, the boy’s obvious rejection and disgust turn him on even more. Soon enough, the man forces his tongue between Peter’s lips to explore the insides of his mouth in every detail. He can feel that the boy’s trying to pull away, but he only manages to move about an inch before his head hits the wall.

After two or three minutes, Tony has finally had enough and breaks the kiss, feeling somewhat breathless. Even though he orgasmed just about ten minutes ago, his cock’s already hard again, something Tony hasn’t experienced in years. He should get a move on.

He pulls away and sits down on Peter’s knees, gripping the collar of his shirt. Even though the knife is sharp, it’s doesn’t cut through the material as smoothly as Tony hoped, and after a few inches, he gives up. He ignores Peter’s audible sigh of relief and moves over to the big desk, rummaging the drawers until he finds a pair of scissors.

“There you go,” he chuckles and returns to his captive. He’s changed his mind about what body parts he wants to see first, so he starts taking off the boy’s shoes and socks before cutting the legs of the overall, making sure to not touch Peter’s boxers for now. After that, he slices the overall’s arms, and after about five minutes, he can pull the jumpsuit parts off the boy completely, leaving him in only his boxers and half destroyed shirt. Tony takes his time cutting off the tee, teasing himself with revealing more and more parts of the Peter’s upper body. He’s fragile indeed, but there also some very fine muscles on his chest, almost as if the boy has recently started to work out. Probably to impress the little bitch downstairs… The man can't wait to destroy Peter so much that he voluntarily won’t let anyone touch him ever again. That is, if he doesn’t end up killing him after all.

Tony exchanges the scissors for the knife again and slowly circles the tip over the boy’s right nipple, enjoying how Peter’s breathing becomes more and more ragged. Without warning, he presses the tip a quarter of an inch into the pink skin, causing the boy to scream in agony and plead for the first time in thirty minutes.

“P-Please, sir, oh god, s-stop!”

Tony ignores him. Instead, he’s intently watching the blood leaking from the wound, unable to resist twisting the tip slightly.

“AAh, sir, please, PLEASE!”

The man growls irritated and smacks Peter across the cheek with the backside of his hand. “Will you shut your fucking mouth? You’re ruining the moment.”

He waits until the boy has calmed down at least a little bit before moving the knife further, tracing the boy’s fine muscles and rip bones, leaving short, delicate cuts whenever he feels like it. Peter’s biting down on his bottom lip hard, probably in an effort to keep himself from screaming out every time, but theconvulsive sobbing starts to get on Tony’s nerves.

Eventually, the blade has reached the very fine, almost invisible hairline leading from Peter’s navel down to his private parts. Tony starts to use the knife on the thin fabric of the boxers, causing the boy to struggle in his restraints once more.

“Please, s-sir, d-don’t,” he cries miserably.

“Are you actually intending to deny me the grand finale?”

“Sir, I-I’m…I haven’t…p-please don’t do this.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve never been touched before?” The man can barely hide his excitement, causing Peter to look like he deeply regrets saying anything. “I thought the bitch down there was your girlfriend?”

“We…we h-haven’t been d-dating for long.”

“And yet, you still almost got yourself killed for her,” Tony chuckles, “Good thing I have such a big heart, right?” He laughs wickedly and squeezes Peter’s dick through his pants.

“N-no, sir, please, I’m begging you!”

“Yes, you are, and I’m fucking tired of it,” the man growls and grabs a piece of torn clothing that has once been Peter’s shirt. When Tony ties a knot in it, the boy seems to realize that he’s about to be gagged. He chokes out one last desperate “Please!” before Tony stuffs the fabric into Peter’s mouth roughly, tying it behind the back of his head so tightly that the boy wouldn’t be able to push it out with his tongue.

Seconds later, the boxers are gone, providing the man with the exciting view of his captive’s dick. There’s hardly any pubic hair and it’s not exactly big, although slightly larger than Tony expected. Eagerly, he grabs the knife again, causing Peter to scream into his already spit soaked gag in sheer panic. Contrary to the tedious wailing, it’s music to Tony’s ears, and he quickly moves the blade over the shaft, the tip, and even down to the boy’s balls. Naturally, he can’t resist poking the sharp end of the knife into Peter’s slit just a tiny bit, but then he throws the blade aside. He has scared the kid enough; now, it’s time to humiliate him some more.

Ignoring Peter’s muffled protests, he spits on his hands before wrapping them around the boy’s dick, starting to caress and stroke the limp organ gently. The kid’s a teenager; surely it won’t take him long until… Tony grins satisfied when the cock gets hard in less than thirty seconds, leaking decent amounts of pre-cum shortly after.

“See, I knew you’re enjoying all this. You’re a dirty little whore, aren’t you?”

Peter whimpers, new tears spilling from his eyes. It’s kind of obvious at this point that the boy is still a virgin, considering his breathing becomes heavier and quicker after only a few more strokes, seemingly bringing him close to his orgasm rather soon. He most likely would have cum already if he had found any real satisfaction in the situation.

A few seconds later, a reluctant, probably unwanted, moan escapes Peter’s throat, not completely muffled by the gag in his mouth. His body shivers, and Tony knows that he’s got to be really close, so he pumps the boy’s dick one more time before letting go, forcing a very distressed groan from his victim’s lips.

“What is it, darling? Don’t tell me you’ve been about to cum?” Peter glares at him full of hatred, causing Tony to chuckle. “Well, I’m really sorry then. Now, if you ask me nicely, I might let you cum. Deal? I won’t get that gag out of your mouth, but you can nod your head and do your best to say ‘please’, you got it?” When Peter doesn’t react at all, Tony frowns and asks the question directly. “Do you want to cum? … Answer me!”

To Tony’s greatest surprise, the boy shakes his head defiantly, leaving the man somewhat flabbergasted. Okay, he didn’t expect that.

“Oh, you don’t, ha? We’ll see about that,” he hisses, grabbing the kid’s penis once again and bringing him close to the edge for a second time. Peter’s whimpering pathetically when Tony releases his sensitive organ just like before. “Do you want to cum? I can do this all night, kid!

Tony’s seething when the boy shakes his hand again despite crying and squirming desperately. He thought he had broken him already, but apparently, Peter’s pride is more resistant than expected. The man grabs the knife, tempted to force the kid to nod his head, but then he realizes that it would not bring him the desired effect. He needs to come up with something else, but he’s too aroused to think straight anymore. It would have to wait until tomorrow.

Tony stands up, taking in the sight of Peter’s abused body. There’s blood running down from various cuts on his upper body, especially from the deeper hole at the right nipple, and there are two bruises forming on his face from the punches he gave him.

“Well, too bad. I’ll give you the night to think about it. Until then, I think your gorgeous body requires some more decoration.”

With that, Tony takes out his own dick again and starts to pump it vigorously, not caring about the boy fixing his eyes on the ground. When he’s close, the man steps forward and grabs a fistful of Peter’s hair to hold him in place. He climaxes with a loud groan, covering the boy’s face and body with thick ropes of creamy-white cum, before cleaning his fingers and penis tip by squeezing them inside his captives’ mouth right next to the drenched fabric. Afterwards, he checks the cable tie just in case, but it’s zipped up so tightly that there’s no chance for Peter to get out of them without breaking the radiator pipe.

“I’m sure you don’t mind spending the night, do you?” Tony grins and walks over to the couch. “Unfortunately, we can’t turn off the lights anywhere in this building or otherwise the FBI might get stupid ideas, but I still wish you a comfortable and relaxing sleep.”

Tony lies down on the couch with a big smile on his face and puts the sleeping mask over his eyes. The boy’s weeping has to be the sweetest lullaby the man has ever heard.

Chapter Text

Day Two.

In the morning, every inch of Peter’s body feels like it’s on fire, either from being horribly restraint for hours, or from the cuts and bruises Tony has given him. His mouth is dry from the gag, jaw aching, lips cracked, arms completely numb, and he’s so fucking tired he’s about to lose his mind. However, it was impossible to sleep in this position, he only managed to momentarily nod off every few minutes. Additionally, his balls and throbbing cock distressed him for thirty minutes more after Tony had gone to sleep, but Peter had no chance to touch himself in any way. He’s sure of one thing, though: it’s still better than asking his fucking rapist to let him cum.

The antique office clock shows 6:30 when a loud ringing startles not only Peter, but Tony as well. The man shoots up from the couch, looking somewhat alarmed, but then his sleepy eyes focus on the boy and the corners of his mouth turn upwards. Seconds later, Tony is walking over to the desk, grabbing the receiver of an old looking phone.

“Right on schedule, Ohio.”

Peter’s stomach turns; who the fuck was Ohio? Someone on the outside, talking to them over a secured line?

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Actually, no, some stupid kids thought they could overpower us, but we’ve got it all under control. … No, I haven’t…. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.” Tony looks over to Peter and rolls his eyes. “What’s happening out there? … Really? Haha, good. The machines are running almost full speed, but I haven’t spoken to anyone since yesterday… I think we have like six hostages down at the tubes, and six down at the machines or something. I’ll get down later. I’ll call you from down there when I know more. Bye.”

The man puts the receiver down and walks over to Peter, forcing him to look at him by grabbing his chin. “Morning, sunshine. Nice to see you’re still around. I was actually afraid you might have seen me as just another One Night Stand, but here you are, drooling all over yourself. Are you that thirsty for my cock?”

Peter’s glaring at him as hatefully as he can muster, but Tony only chuckles. Problem is, the boy has started to feel a certain bodily need, therefore he tries to talk.

“What was that?” Tony says mockingly, causing Peter to buckle up his hips slightly, blushing in embarrassment. “You want me to touch you again?”

The boy groans in annoyance and shakes his head. “Toilet?” This time, Peter nods, blushing even more, and looking at the man pleadingly.

“Well, I’m tempted to let you piss your pants, or rather…” - Tony grins evilly - “yourself, but I sleep in here. Lucky for you, this office comes with a private bathroom.”

The man takes the knife from the desk and actually cuts Peter loose. The boy is so relieved that he lets out a sob, but then he realizes he still can’t really move his arms due to them being completely numb. Tony is oddly, if not dangerously, calm about it, though. Instead of urging Peter to get a move on, he sits down on the leather chair with his gun and rifle, watching the boy intently. It takes the boy a few minutes until he can finally get up. He reaches up to his gag with shaking hands, and when his captor doesn’t object, he tries to open the tight knot behind his head, which turns out to be quite a challenge with his half-dead fingers. Even though it hurts and feels kind of weird, he’s thoroughly relieved when he can finally close his mouth again.

“P-please, sir, c-can I have some w-water?” Peter croaks weakly, voice hoarse from disuse and the dryness of his throat.

Without a word, Tony hands him one of the plastic bottles they’ve given out to the hostages too, and even though the boy feels really uneasy, he gulps the liquid down greedily. Next, he’s actually allowed to use the toilet, but not without Tony following to keep a close eye on him. It’s embarrassing to piss in front of the man, but Peter knows he has no other option than to comply. He’s eyeing the sink after he’s done, desperate to get the blood and semen off his body, but Tony shakes his head before he can even open his mouth. “Not a chance, kid.”

Peter whimpers when he’s dragged out of the bathroom violently and shoved into one of the cushioned chairs. The thought of what Tony might have in store for him next is scaring him shitless, and his fear turns into sheer horror when the man pulls out a roll of duct tape and throws it at the boy.

“Tape one of your hands to the arm rest,” the man orders, aiming the gun right at Peter’s head. Feeling defeated, he obeys, and as soon as his left arm is tied to the chair, Tony takes over to repeat the motion on his right hand and both ankles. The man even tapes his thighs to the seat and stomach to the back rest, making it impossible to move even another inch. Lastly, Peter’s mouth is taped shut, and by then, he’s already sobbing again, panic-stricken.

“After your little act of defiance yesterday, I thought we should play another game,” Tony hisses, “I give you once more chance, boy.”

Just like a few hours ago, the man starts to jerk him off, making Peter groan both in pleasure as well as embarrassment when his own body betrays him. How can he be 'enjoying' this even the slightest bit? He’s so fucking close again when Tony asks him if he wants to cum, and even though it’s pure torture, he forces himself to shake his head. Peter’s quite alarmed when the man grins wickedly, ruining his orgasm for the third time in about six hours.

“You’re a stubborn little bitch, you know that? I couldn’t help but notice that it took you only two minutes to get this close, so I’ll make you a deal. If you manage to hold it back for three minutes, I’ll stop playing with you and let you go. However, if you cum before that, I’ll take it as proof that you wanted this all along, and then I’ll see it as my duty to continue rubbing your dick until the skin’s peeling off from it. How does that sound?”

Horrorstruck, Peter shakes his head and tries to plead with the man despite being gagged, but it’s to no avail. He whimpers when Tony starts to pump his still fully hard dick again, sending waves of pleasure through his whole body. The boy knows there’s no way that he’d be able to hold his climax back for so long, after all, he’s still horribly close from earlier and in contrary to the night, he doesn’t even have fresh pain distracting him. However, Peter remembers what he’s seen in a comedy before, and forces himself to think of tricky math equations, things that disgust him, and, especially, the torture awaiting him if he gives in.

Miraculously, it actually works better than Peter thought. Tony, who’s counting down loudly, is at two minutes and 15 seconds already when it starts to get really tormenting. At two minutes and twenty-five seconds, Peter’s so painfully close that he starts crying, but he still manages to resist the urge to give in. At two minutes and thirty-five seconds, Tony’s voice becomes dangerously threatening, and at two minutes and forty seconds, Peter’s muscles and body starts trembling. Pearls of sweat are dripping down from his forehead and he’s breathing heavily, but he’s now convinced that he can do it. It’s possible to withstand fifteen more seconds, it’s-

“Fifty-one, Fifty-two, Fifty-three…Fifty…four…”

Peter’s eyes widen in horror when Tony’s slowing down. He’s not counting seconds anymore, it’s more like… f-five-

The boy screams into his gag, but his captor only grins. “What’s wrong? Well, shit, now I’ve lost my count. Where was I? Two minutes and forty seconds, right?”

It’s not fucking fair, it’s-

After a few more seconds, the agonizing pressure that has built up inside Peter’s stomach erupts like a volcano, pleasure spreading through every inch of his body like fire. His penis squirts out a massive amount of cum that has built up from all the teasing, besmirching Tony’s hands and overall. It’s impossible to hold back a deep, muffled moan when Peter’s eyes roll back in his head, and his whole body convulses violently in the tight bonds tying him down.

“Ha, see, I knew you wanted this all along. You love getting touched by me, don’t you?” Tony keeps on pumping his dick through the climax, milking every last drop of cum out of it, but even when the waves of pleasure have eventually ebbed away, he doesn’t stop. Peter screams again when the overstimulation sends a very uncomfortable, irritating feeling through his dick before spreading through his whole body. It’s not pleasurable at all, and he starts to plead with his captor in whatever way possible, but the man ignores him and keeps on stroking the drained organ. Since Peter’s unable to move an inch, he realizes that the only thing he can do is take it in the hope of Tony stopping soon, but unfortunately, he doesn’t. Just when the boy thinks he can’t take it anymore, the unpleasant feeling suddenly starts to get better and better, and after two more minutes, he’s distressed groans turn into needy ones.

Before he knows it, he’s actually cuming for a second time, maybe even harder than before. Every inch of his body vibrates, every brain cell useless, focused only on the burning pleasure spreading from his groin down to his toes and up to his neck. However, when it’s over, Tony still doesn’t stop, causing Peter to throw his head back in agony, sobbing pathetically. He tries to draw his horribly overstimulated dick from his captor’s tormenting hands, but he can’t move more than one fucking quarter of an inch. When Peter struggles so violently that the chair actually jerks, the man laughs cruelly and grabs the chair leg with one of his hands.

“You’re getting nowhere. I’m wondering how many times I can make you cum before you start to bleed. Maybe you’re lucky and fall unconscious before that, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

Peter’s response is a pleading, despicable wail, apparently encouraging Tony enough to take the boy’s cum-slick dick into his mouth, sucking immediately. It’s the first time Peter experiences anything like it, but unfortunately, it’s not pleasurable at all. At least, not for the first few, agonizing minutes, but then, the same thing happens like earlier.

A rush of emotions and physical feelings conflict the teenager’s mind when he’s cuming for the third time, right inside Tony’s mouth. Even though the orgasm still feels good, it’s not as pleasurable anymore as the first two, and it doesn’t last as long either. Peter is completely spent at this point, both physically as well as mentally, but Tony doesn’t show him any mercy and alternates between pumping and sucking his dick now. The boy’s about to give up on life, when a sudden knock at the door startles not only him, but Tony as well.

Chapter Text

Day Two.

“Yes?” Tony yells angrily, not pleased in the slightest about the disturbance and still holding onto Peter’s dick tightly even when the door opens.

“Tony, there’s- WHAT THE FUCK!” It’s Clint, turning his back on them in horror. “W-what are you doing?

“I’m trying out my new toy. You see, there’s no thirty-day return guarantee coming with this,” Tony grins and stands up, eventually losing his grip on the teenager’s oversensitive, drained organ. Well, it was fun while it lasted. “Since when do you have a problem with that?”

“I'm not, but... he’s fucking seen my face.”

“Do you see me wearing a mask? It’s fine, you can turn around.”

Clint, stubborn as he is, puts on his mask before he does. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do, trust me. I’m actually kind of busy, what do you need?”

“The hostages… they’re freaking out because you apparently killed a kid yesterday.”

Tony acts shook. “Me? That’s a very harsh accusation. I might have intended to kill him, but then I thought I could make better use of him.”

The man is pretty sure that Clint’s eyeing the crying, shaking boy up and down with interest. “I guess that’s him, then?”

“That’s right. Now, be a dear and tell them that he’s fine.”

Clint nods and leaves somewhat reluctantly.

“Now, Peter Parker, while I enjoyed our fun session a lot, my cock has started to feel a little alone. I think it deserves some attention too, doesn’t it?”

However, he has just freed his dick from his tight pants when his mobile radio goes off. “They don’t believe us; apparently they heard a gunshot shortly after he was dragged away. I think you should bring him down.”

Tony curses. “Are you that fucking incapable of keeping a bunch of defenseless hostages at bay?”

“Uhm, no, but Ohio called us in the machine room yesterday, reminding us to treat them well for as long as possible. You know the FBI will eventually need a vital sign, and-“

“All right,” he snaps, “I’ll bring him down, but I need a fucking new overall. Send someone up to bring it to me.”

To Tony’s misfortune, the one coming to his aid is Natasha of all people. “I thought we had a fucking agreement!” she literally screams at him when her eyes fall on Peter, but the man doesn’t answer her until she has followed him out of the office.

“We agreed on not raping any women.”

“Stop your nitpicking bullshit, Tony. He’s a fucking kid, a minor, possibly, what-“

“This is not your fucking business, Natasha. I’m the one in charge, whether you like it or not.”

“Bruce will not tolerate-“

“Bruce might be my partner for this, but overall, I’m still the boss. I’m the one who initially came up with it, and I’ve financed it too by giving every last penny I had left. Without me, this wouldn’t be possible. You can go and cry to your fiancé about it, but don’t be disappointed if he’s not on your side. Don’t forget, that kid is the one who’s started the riot yesterday, so the only other option would be to kill him. Is that what you want?”

Apparently, it’s not. After a few more minutes of irritating discussions, the woman storms off and Tony enters the office again. He unties Peter and lets him slip into his shoes as well as into the oversized overall, naked, before shoving him back into the bathroom to wash the cum off his face and out of his hair as much as possible. Afterwards, Tony pushes him through the door. “One word about anything that happened in here and I’ll take your little bitch next, got it?”

The boy croaks out a defeated “Yes” and stumbles down the corridor. His weak legs make him tumble thrice, forcing Tony to yank him up again every time. When they have reached the top of the stairs, a deafening, high-pitched scream drowns out all other noises.

“PETER!” It’s not just the girlfriend crying out for him, but most of his class as well. Tony shoves Peter down the steps and over to his friends, unable to suppress a satisfied smile when the boy's seemingly afraid to look his annoying girlfriend in the eye and flinches horribly as the pulls him into a teary, bone-crushing hug. The man’s close enough to hear whispers of “W-what’s wrong?”, “Why do you have a bruise on your face?” as well as “Are you b-bleeding?”, and decides that it’s time to shut them up.

“SILENCE!” Tony roars loudly, causing all the hostages to jump. Although they all look at him in fear, some also seem to have gained a little defiance. “I gotta say, I’ve never come across so many fucking ignorant idiots in my life. Just a short reminder: if you don’t follow our rules, there will be terrible consequences, and I won’t say it again. Peter, come back here, reunion's over!”

Basically, the whole class speaks up in an effort to plead with Tony about leaving him with them, and when he moves to grab him, a taller boy even steps in front of the kid. “W-we won't let you hurt-“

He screams when Tony punches him flat on the nose with such force that the boy’s thrown backwards, almost colliding with Peter and his bitch.

Are you fucking deaf?” Tony cocks his gun. “I’m so fucking tired of-“

“S-stop, sir, please,” Peter sobs, stepping forward, “I-I’m c-coming.”

It’s impossible to resist. “Again?” A few seconds go by before Peter registers what Tony’s referring to, but then he whimpers silently, his face turning a dark shade of red, whereas the other hostages seem rather confused. “I really appreciate that, Pete," Tony says, voice dripping with sarcasm, "You’re a good kid and a true role-model for the others.”

He reaches out for the boy, drags him back into the office and orders him to lay down on his stomach with his hands behind his back. Seconds later, Peter’s horribly abused wrists are once again restraint with a cable tie, just like his crossed ankles. Tony bends them until he’s able to connect feet and hands with a few long stripes of tape, twisted together to serve as some kind of rope.

Lastly, tapes Peter’s mouth shut again, just for the fun of it.

“I’m afraid I have to leave you alone for a few hours because I have some things to take care of.” Tony relishes the terrified expression in Peter’s eyes when the boy realizes he would have to stay in this extremely uncomfortable position for a while. “But when I come back, I promise you’ll have my full attention.”

It actually takes until 3 pm for Tony to get back; he smiles when he finds the boy in the exact same spot and position he had left him in, and pulls him up into a kneeling position. Peter whimpers in distress, and cries out silently when Tony rips the tape off his mouth.

“I brought you some food,” the man says, “but before I give it to you, I want you to thank me for earlier.” The boy shoots him a puzzled look. “Say ‘Thank you, sir, for making me cum.’

It’s simply delightful to watch the boy’s inner struggle, but when Tony holds up a chocolate chip cookie and starts eating it with a wicked smile, Peter gives in. “T-thank you, s-sir, for…for m-making me c-cum.”

“Good boy,” Tony praises and presses a cookie to the kid’s lips. At first, it seems like Peter’s too proud to eat from his hand, but he eventually does, obviously way too hungry to refuse. Tony grins satisfied when Peter eats not one, but three cookies out of his hands, and even when he orders him to lick up the crumbles, the boy obeys again, albeit reluctantly. The feeling of his victim’s tongue licking over his palm and fingers sends a rush of pleasure right into Tony’s dick. “You’re such a good pet.” He chuckles when Peter winces promptly. “What’s wrong, don’t you like the nickname?”

The boy keeps his eyes on the ground, providing Tony with a wicked idea. “All right, what about slut, then? Or slave? Toy? Which one do you like best?”

When Peter doesn’t answer, Tony takes out his knife and presses it against the teen’s throat. “Which one?” A single, silent tear runs down Peter’s cheek when he answers with quivering, barely audible voice: “S-slut.”

Tony grins widely. “Nice! But please, enlighten me… Why slut? Are you that desperate to suck my dick?”

“No,” Peter spits, face taut with anger, “but I’m not a thing, and you don’t fucking own me either.”

Tony can’t help it; he throws his head back, shaking with laughter. “Oh, my dear slut, you’re quite the wit, aren’t you?”

Without warning, the man grabs Peter’s hair and presses him face-first to the floor. The sexual urge he feels is agonizing and even though he wants nothing more than to fuck the kid, the tease is exciting too. If everything goes like planned, they will still have one and half days; there’s no need to rush things. Still, he needs to find out how tight the boy is…

Grabbing the knife, he carefully slices a long cut into the backside of the overall, right above Peter’s ass crack. When Tony slips his hand in, a pathetic sound is ripped out of the boy’s throat. “P-please, don’t!”

“Well, you want to be a slut, so I give you what you desire and deserve,” the man hisses and presses two of his dry fingers against his victim’s opening. “You better shut up now or I’ll put that tape on your mouth again.”

Peter sobs defeated, but then he cries out in excruciating pain when Tony forces his fingers in, ignoring the resistant, tight closing muscle. The evil position the man has tied him in makes it harder to spread him open, which makes it all the more painful for the kid.

“PLEASE!” the teen screams, trashing around in his binds in vain.

“Aw, does it hurt?”

“Please, sir, I’ll d-do anything you want, j-just please- ARGH!”

Tony pushes in further. “Well, too bad that this is what I want.” However, the dryness makes it rather difficult, so Tony withdraws. “Oh, shit, now I almost forgot that you’re a virgin. You better lick those fingers first.”

Peter flinches when the man presses the fingers against his lips, refusing to open his mouth even an inch. “What’s the matter? I’m sure you ass tastes delicious.” The boy only whines and turns his head in disgust, whereas Tony shrugs unconcerned. “Guess it’ll be bloody then. But don’t worry, it can serve as lube.”

Without hesitation, Tony slips his fingers back into the hole to penetrate Peter’s tight, clenched closing muscle. He ignores the deafening screams coming from the boy when he pushes in with all his might, not caring about the damage it will cause.

“You’re so fucking tight…I really can’t wait to shove every inch of my dick into you.”

As soon as he’s in knuckle deep, he starts to finger-fuck the kid already, ignoring all ferocious protests and pleas screamed at him. Just when Tony’s decided that he wants to look for Peter’s prostate in order to humiliate him some more, the phone starts ringing. Why the fucking fuck can't he enjoy anything for once? With an annoyed sigh, he withdraws his indeed slightly bloody fingers and walks over to the desk. “What now, Ohio? I'm-”

“They want half of the hostages in exchange for the helicopter.”

Tony curses loudly. ”Well, fuck, that’s not possible... Most of them will have figured out the plan by now and we need them for at least another 24 to 36 hours. We’ve only printed about 450 and sent over like 400.”

“I know. I’ll suggest a stream so that they’ll have a vital sign. You haven’t killed anyone yet, have you?”

“No.”

“Good. I’ll see what I can do… try to increase the printing speed, and get some more down to help with the packaging and dispatching.” Tony confirms before lighting up a cigarette and speaking into the mobile radio. “Brooklyn, come over for a sec.” The man can see Peter's eyes widening in anxiety and, probably, embarrassment by being seen like this from yet another of the Avengers, providing Tony with a sweet, vicious idea.

Chapter Text

Day Two.

Peter’s stomach turns when a few minutes later, there’s indeed a knock on the door. Instead of that other guy in the morning, Brooklyn’s wearing his mask, and Peter turns his head away in shame, hoping that he wouldn’t come closer and see his probably exposed ass. Speaking of… his entrance and rectum are burning like hell.

Tony tells Brooklyn what that Ohio guy said, and the boy can’t help wondering… Are they really printing money? 450 million, holy shit… but, wouldn’t those bills be traceable due to the serial numbers or something? And how would they get those bills out of here? What does Tony mean by ‘sent over’? Peter actually knows what a million dollars in one-hundred-dollar bills weights because of Flash asking it during the guided tour yesterday, so that would mean that-

Peter’s forced to snap out of his distracting thoughts when he hears Brooklyn coming closer. “So that’s our brave hero? He’s come far.”

Since Peter’s head is turned into Tony’s direction, he can see him smirking. “He has. He’s a stubborn little bitch, though. Excuse me, I meant to say 'slut'. That’s what he wants me to call him.”

Brooklyn snorts whereas Peter blushes horribly. To his greatest dismay, the man comes around to stand next to Tony, so he quickly turns his head the other way again.

A few seconds later, a cry is ripped of his throat when he’s yanked upwards by his hair so violently that he can feel strands being torn off of scalp. “Don’t you dare turn your head again, slut.”

Tony lets go again, and since Peter’s arms are still tied behind his back, he can’t do anything to ease the fall, hitting the floor face-forward with a loud ‘thud’. An excruciating pain shoots through his nose, mouth and forehead, causing him to grunt miserably.

“Wanna feel how tight his ass is?”

Pain almost forgotten in an instant, Peter opens his eyes in horror. Please don’t say yes, please don’t-

“So you’ve fucked him already?”

“Not yet, I want to make the most out of it. I’m warning you, though, his ass is really tight. Two fingers made him bleed already.”

Although Peter has already been crying so much for the last few hours, the man’s cruel words make him tear up once again. The crying turns into sobbing when Brooklyn eventually agrees, and when the man even takes off his mask, showing off piercing blue eyes, blonde hair, and a kind-looking, model-like face, Peter loses it. “P-please, don’t do this, s-sir, I-“

“Do you want to get gagged again?” Tony hisses and moves over to Peter’s face on his knees. Meanwhile, Brooklyn has positioned himself behind the boy. “He’s a virgin, Steve. Most likely underage.

“Fuck.” For a second, the boy's gaining hope, until- “You really do have a lucky hand, you fucking bastard.”

“Hey, careful, or I’ll change my mind. This is all you get, though, at least, for now. And keep it at two fingers; I don’t want to stretch him too much before giving him the real thing.”

Peter’s almost hyperventilating when he feels Steve’s fingers at his entrance, and cries out when he pushes in one, or two, he doesn’t know. “S-stop, PLEASE!”

“You’re right, he’s fucking tight, oh my god. Not gonna lie, I’m getting hard right now.”

“Tell me about it. I haven’t really been soft again since midnight.”

Peter can’t restrain himself anymore. Listening to these cruel, disgusting men is giving him nausea. Please, STOP, please!”

Once again, the boy is brutally yanked up by his hair and held upwards in that position. His aching thighs and knees hardly give any support, so most of his weight literally hangs on strings of hair and his scalp, causing him to sob even harder. Additionally, Steve’s fingers are still buried in his sore ass, due to the movement in a slightly different, even more painful angle now.

“Hold him up by his wrists,” Tony says to Steve, who grabs the cable tie firmly. Even though Tony’s still holding his hair, the pain on Peter’s scalp eases slightly, but then the boy’s mind goes somewhat blank when the man opens the zipper of his overall and takes his leaking cock out. They can’t possibly-

“Bend him down a little again and hold him there. I’m done with the whining.”

Peter barely registers the tip of Tony’s dick brushing over his lips, but when the man forces his mouth open by pressing his thumb and index finger firmly against his cheeks, the dreadful reality hits him like a truck. He’s too scared at this point to plead again, so he quickly closes his eyes and tries to ignore the nauseating taste on his tongue when Tony’s big cock slips into his mouth. Unable to do more than struggle uselessly, Peter tries to fight the urge to panic when it doesn’t even take him half a minute until he’s gagging for the first time. Since the two men are holding his body in a roughly 20-degree angle to the floor, the gravity makes it feel as if his head’s somewhat impaled on Tony’s dick, making Peter drool even worse than a few hours ago. At the same time, Steve’s fingers are tormenting his abused, burning rectum, causing him to sob in pain and distress. It’s impossible to decide what’s worse.

“You like being used like that, don’t you? You despicable, cock-hungry slut,” Tony groans and jerks his hips forward so brutally that Peter feels a stinging pain somewhere deep inside his throat. The man chuckles when the boy lets out a muffled cry and orders Steve to find his ‘spot’ or whatever. Seconds later, Tony withdraws his cock from Peter’s mouth and opens the kid’s zipper instead. The boy winces when his limp penis is taken out to be violated once more, filling him with dread. Before all this, Peter wouldn’t have thought it possible to be scared of having an orgasm, but now the mere idea is enough to send an unpleasant shiver through his body.

“Want to jerk him off too?” Tony asks Steve.

“With what hand? Also, I’m so fucking hard it hurts, maybe you should call Bu-I mean, Indiana over.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d love the idea of getting his way with him, but for now, he’s mine. I only let you in on the fun because of our history with each other. However, if you manage to make him cum before me, you can have his mouth. Deal? I’m gonna hold him.”

“Deal,” Steve laughs and loosens the grip on Peter’s wrists. Tony prevents him from falling over by holding him up with both hands now, one having a tight grip on his hair, the other one closing around his jaw and throat, causing the boy to both choke and whimper in pain.

Seconds later, his captor’s leaking dick is shoved back into his drooling mouth, whereas Steve starts to jerk him off roughly. The fingers inside his ass start to move differently, touching places they haven’t touched before, sending new waves of pain through Peter’s body. After a while, however, they suddenly brush against something that forces the boy to yelp out in surprise, and to his horror, his dick twitches slightly.

“Fuck, yes, I think you found it,” Tony groans and rocks his hips back and forth more quickly. “Make him moan, Steve.”

‘Over my dead body,’ Peter thinks, but then, his body jerks violently when he can feel it for a second time. What the holy fuck-

A defeated moan is ripped of the boy’s throat before he knows it, causing both of his captors to chuckle.

“He really is a slut, Tony,” Steve muses, “His cock is dripping like a broken faucet.”

“You should have seen him in the morning. He came three times in like 15 minutes.”

The other man groans and starts to finger-fuck Peter’s ass at the same speed he’s jerking him off, making sure to always brush against what the boy now assumes might be his 'spot' they were talking baout. The pleasure building up inside of him despite the agonizing pain in his rectum is intoxicating, different than anything he’s felt before, and even though Tony’s still thrusting into his mouth whilst choking him brutally, the boy’s being brought closer to his climax by the second.

To Steve’s misfortune though, Tony is the first to cum. The man’s bitter sperm gushes into the kid’s mouth in spurts, but even though Peter tries to swallow it ‘voluntarily’ this time, the gravity as well as the grip on his throat render it almost impossible.

“Fuck, I’m sure he’s close. Want me to stop?”

“No. But if he’s not done in fifteen seconds, I won’t be done strangling him either.”

Tony withdraws his dick from the boy’s mouth, causing vast amounts of spit and sperm to drip onto the floor. Whereas the grip on his hair loosens, the grip on his throat intensifies immensely when Tony starts squeezing with both hands. Peter’s full body weight presses down on the two hands strangling him, reducing the boy’s moans and sobs to a pathetic wheeze. Mortal fear is spreading through him, and it gets even worse when Tony starts another wicked countdown. What if he also cheats this time and... skips seconds or whatever? With all his might, Peter tries to blend out the fear, pain and humiliation, concentrating on the bittersweet pleasure that almost makes him see stars (unless it’s the choking?).

“Six, five… come on kid… four…”

Steve’s fingers hit that mysterious 'spot' inside of him just when Peter feels his balls tighten, and with a strangled, muffled cry he finally gets to his release, causing his body to convulse ferociously in the cruel position he's restrained in. For a few seconds, everything else is completely forgotten, and Peter lets himself drown in the pleasure overwhelming him. A few moments later, he thinks he might have actually blacked out for a blink of an eye, because he’s suddenly back on the floor without knowing if he fell or was put down, and with the end of his climax the harsh reality returns, washing away all the pleasure, leaving him with only agony, sorrow and shame. To Peter’s greatest relief, at least there are no more hands on either his throat, dick or ass, and therefore he almost doesn’t care that his face is lying in the puddle of his own spit and Tony’s cum.

“Let him clean your hand.”

Peter quickly braces himself for what’s about to happen.

“Which one?”

“Both.”

The boy wants to plead with them again, but to his horror, his voice is merely a croak.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tony murmurs angrily and takes out his knife before moving it towards Peter’s eye threateningly. “You either lick those hands clean now, or I’ll stick this into your eye before shoving it up your ass too.”

Peter can’t even cry anymore. He feels completely empty inside when Steve shoves his fingers into the boy’s mouth one-by-one. First, he’s forced to lick and swallow his own cum, and then… Even though it doesn’t nearly taste as horribly as Peter imagined, the mere reminder of those bloody fingers being all up his own ass makes him gag awfully.

“What would your girlfriend say if she knew how much you’re enjoying yourself without her? I mean… look at you… I can’t wait to tell her.”

“N-no, please,” Peter chokes out hoarsely as soon as the fingers have left his mouth, “l-leave her out of t-this.”

Naturally, Tony ignores him. “You better lick up my cum next, because it’ll be the last liquid you get for a while.”

At this point, fighting would be useless. Peter tries his best to execute the man’s command, but since he can’t move his body for even an inch, he’s only able to lick up what’s right beneath or next to his face. His shoulders, arms and feet hurt so badly that Peter cries out in relief when Tony orders Steve to cut him loose. For a few minutes, the boy’s lying there motionless, awkwardly stiff, and while the men are waiting for him to move, Tony allows Steve to jerk off and ejaculate in the kid’s face because of it being ‘way too clean’.

Peter barely winces when drops of Steve’s cum hit his forehead, eyes, nose and cheek, but then Tony orders him to lick up everything that missed his face. “And the rest of mine and yours too.”

Twice, Peter retches horribly, but fortunately, he can fight down the urge to vomit. However, when he’s finally done with licking up the sperm of three male individuals, he’s drenched in sweat and shaking all over.

“Before you go, hold him down for a second,” Tony asks Steve, who fulfills the request immediately. Peter feels too weak to fight despite being untied for the first time in hours, so he’s pressed down on his back a few seconds later. Steve is so tall and muscular that Peter can’t see what Tony’s about to do when he moves down to his legs. What he can feel, however, is that the man is cutting away a piece of the overall at his right thigh. A few anxious moments later, a horrible stinging pain causes Peter to scream louder than ever. He tries to kick and thrash around, but the two men are way stronger than him. “PLEASE, STOP, PLEASE!”

Tony obviously doesn’t give any more shit than any of the other times Peter has begged him before, so all the boy can do is scream, cry, and wriggle under the three hands and two bodies pressing him down.

And then, it’s finally over. As soon as the men get off him, Peter shoots up and grabs onto his aching thigh in pain and shock. There are four deep straight cuts of about three inches, changing the blue fabric around the heavily bleeding wounds to crimson in seconds.

“What’s that all about?”

“I thought I might help him keeping track of how many times he’s got to cum already.”

Chapter Text

Day Three

Tony spends the rest of the afternoon pondering over the escape plan while listening to Peter’s quiet crying. He locked him up in the windowless bathroom so he’d be able to use the toilet whenever he needed, and he even allowed the boy to wash himself. After all, Tony doesn’t want him to stink, and he really doesn’t want to have to deal with a blood infection either.

At eight pm, he ties Peter to the chair again and goes down to the machine room to join some of his friends for dinner and to discuss the goals for the next day. Three hours later, he comes back into the office only to find Peter dozing in the chair. Tony grins when he reaches back and smacks the sleeping boy’s cheek full-force. The horrid scream of pain and shock that follows causes the man’s dick to twitch inside his pants yet again. “Who gave you permission to sleep?”

“S-sorry, s-sir, please, I… it won’t h-happen again.”

He really has come far these past twenty-three hours, and tomorrow will show just how far, because Tony's done waiting. “Good. Well, you can sleep now.” Gosh, he really wished he had a plug with him that he could leave inside the kid’s ass all night… Fuck, now he’s painfully hard again, but he’s too fucking tired for another session, and since lack of sleep could endanger the mission, Tony forces himself to be prudent at least once.

Minutes later, he’s already fast asleep, and only wakes again when Ohio calls him at 6:30 sharp. Unfortunately, there isn’t any real news, a fact that makes Tony more nervous than he wants to admit. Turns out he’s not the only one.

“Does this mean they won’t give us the helicopter?” Wanda asks with a frown when most of them have gathered in the machine room again.

“I don’t know. Apparently, they are suspicious why we need a H175 without seats of all things.”

“Do they still insist on us freeing hostages?”

“Bruce doesn’t think so. He outright told them we’d kill ten of them if they didn’t agree to our terms, and I don’t think they want to risk that.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Natasha hisses, still somewhat furious about the Peter situation, “I’m sure they know that without the helicopter we have no option of getting out of this death trap unharmed.”

“We have 57 hostages, Nat. They will give us the helicopter, question is, what the price will be.”

An hour and a half later, Bruce calls again, calming everyone down. “They insisted on the live stream, though. And with live, I mean live, no tricks. They know about every hostage in there by now, so you’re gonna line them up and let them state their name, time and date, and confirm that they’ve been treated well.”

“We have at least two with bruises on their face.”

Bruce curses. “Figure something out, then. They’ve threatened to raid the place if we’re not live until eleven.”

Tony orders the others to prepare the hostages and quickly heads back into the director’s office. If Peter lets anything slip, they could all be fucked. Even though the kid looks fucking tired, he’s wide awake when Tony enters the room. Giving his best to be as nice as possible, the man feeds him a piece of dry toast before allowing him to gulp half a bottle of water.

“Thank you, sir.”

If Tony’s lucky, he actually might have broken the kid already. “Tell me, Peter… you do want your girlfriend to be treated well, don’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Remember the video we made on your first day here? We’ll do another one later, and if you don’t want your girl to be harmed, you will state your name, time and date, and that we’ve treated you wonderfully, got it? We’ll find you a nice scarf to hide those bruises on your neck, and you’ll be really convincing about getting into a fight with that one kid whose nose I, uhm, apparently broke, all right?”

Although the boy nods well-behaved, there’s also a distant glimmer of defiance sparkling in his eyes. Unfortunately, there’s no time to get to the bottom of it when Sam radios for Tony.

“Manhattan, we have a fucking problem. I think we have to kill someone.”

Both Peter’s and Tony’s eyes widen, and seconds later, the older man is already out the door. “Don’t do it, you fucking idiot,” he yells into the radio, running down the corridor. A few of his friends are gathered in front of the hostages, who seem even more defiant than yesterday. There’s some indistinctive shouting that doesn’t even stop completely when Tony fires into the air with his gun. Enraged, he does it again, using the rifle this time. “What the fuck is going on here?!” he roars and comes down the stairs quickly.

“Norway heard some of them whispering about planning to say that we’ve mistreated them on the stream, in hopes that the police will come in and save them. It’s spread so quickly they are now openly refusing to do the livestream at all, or any other work in general.”

Tony can’t help gaping at the hostages. “It’s unbelievable how fucking stupid you are,” he snarls after a few shocked moments. “You’ve probably all seen too many action movies or played too many computer games… This is the real world, and if you don’t do what we want you to do, we’ll fucking kill you, how hard is this to understand?”

“If you kill us, we won’t be able to give a vital sign anymore,” one rough looking man at the side yells bravely, “Also, if you kill us, you can’t use us to work or serve as your shield when they come in.”

“We don’t need 57 of you,” Tony hisses, “and I hope you are aware that we’ll only have to use you as a shield if they raid the place, which will only happen if you don’t tell them that you’re fine.”

“This is why you won’t kill anyone of us,” an older woman to the man’s left says, “or you’ll die in here too. We’re in this together, you can’t kill us all.”

Tony’s seething like he has never before. “I can torture you all, though.”

“Not unless you want them to see we’ve been mistreated.”

“L-Like you already did with J-Josh and P-Peter, " the chubby boy from the student group chokes out, followed by the fucking girlfriend. “G-Give him back or…I will tell them t-that you’re holding him s-somewhere else and…are h-hurting him.”

Suddenly, Tony has an idea how to kill two birds with one stone. “Thanks for reminding me, Miranda, or whatever your fucking name is. You see, I’m not hurting your boyfriend. He’s having the time of his life up there, and I’m gonna show you just how much he has been enjoying himself with me.”

He twirls around and motions Rhodey to come with him. To Sam, he says, “Make sure Russia is back in the machine room when I come back. Sokovia too, just in case. Tell them to work on their own for a while. Everyone else needs to be here, I don’t want anyone to sleep. And don’t any of you dare to question what I’m about to do, or you’ll be sorry, got it?”

Minutes later, Tony and Rhodey are back in the office. “Fuck, how are you going to cover those bruises?”

“I won’t. Peter will tell them that he got into a fight with… Josh or whatever, right?” The kid’s nodding again, albeit slowly. “I have another, uhm, task for you, Pete. You see, your girlfriend and her friends think they can defy us and you’re gonna help me show what happens if they don’t obey.”

“W-what…what do you mean, s-sir?” Peter asks, already panic-stricken.

“You’ll see. Just do whatever I tell you to do. And if you don’t, then I’ll allow my guys to fuck all your girlfriend’s holes multiple times before killing her off. Do you understand that?”

“O-oh god, please… I-I mean, yes, I understand, sir!”

“That’s what I want to hear. Now, come on. We only have about an hour to convince them to follow our commands.”

After Rhodey has untied the kid, Tony asks him to zip his hands in front of his body, making sure that they’d all be able to see his horribly bruised and cut wrists this time. He also makes no afford hiding the four gashes in Peter’s right thigh or the fresh strangling marks on his neck.

The boy’s right leg is shaking tremendously whenever he tries to step on it, so the two men have to drag him through the corridor before Tony actually carries him bridal style.

To Tony’s delight, he can hear numerous loud gasps when the hostages see them coming down the stairs, and as soon as they’ve reached the base, Tony suddenly drops Peter with a wicked grin, causing him to cry out in pain when he falls onto the floor hard. The following outrage is even stronger than the man expected. There are insults and threats shouted at him, especially from the man and woman from before as well as the boy’s friends. The girl and the chubby one actually run forward, only to stop dead in their tracks when Tony points his rifle down at Peter, apparently having forgotten about the whole ‘you won’t kill anyone of us’ bullshit already.

“I want everyone to listen closely,” the man shouts and reaches down to pull the boy up by his hair, making sure to hide the sliced fabric at his bottom for now. Ignoring Peter’s grunts of pain, he forces him down on his knees and holds him in place.

“Maybe you all remember the first night when young Peter Parker here thought it would be a good idea to hit one of my men, leading to some of you trying to overpower him. Whereas all of you have changed to the worse, your little friend here has learned to be a good, obedient hostage, a fact I will proof to you shortly. And let me be clear: If I hear one fucking word from any of you, I’m also gonna demonstrate on him what’s going to happen to the next one who thinks they can disobey me or any other Avenger. Harlem and Brooklyn – stand behind them. Indiana and Iowa, left and right. Norway and Pennsylvania – you stay here with me. Anyone trying to move will receive a bullet into one of their legs.”

Then, he looks down at the boy with the sweetest smile he can muster. “Peter, take out my dick and ask me for permission to suck it.”

The silence following these words is deafening. The whole hall as well as the kid himself seems shocked beyond belief, and it takes almost half a minute until Peter lets out his most pathetic sob yet. Seconds later, there is a new uproar, especially coming from his friends. “YOU SICK BASTARD,” the girlfriend screams, but with one snap of Tony’s finger, Thor is already walking over to her.

“NO!” Peter cries out in despair, “Please, m-may I PLEASE s-suck your dick, s-sir.”

The hall goes silent yet again, but Tony still motions Thor to drag the screaming girl over and throw her down in front of his feet. Immediately, she tries to reach out for Peter, but the boy flinches and keeps his eyes on the ground, repeating his request in a defeated, quivering voice.

Tony sighs dramatically. “I was actually tempted to say no, but you can call yourself lucky that your friends and all these other nice people have chosen not to listen and to not keep quiet. I suggest you thank them, but first, I’ll let you have what you desire so desperately. Start. Now.”

“Don’t do it, Pete,” the girlfriend whispers desperately, but to their own luck, the boy ignores her. His tied hands are shaking more than ever when he clumsily opens the zipper of Tony’s fly and hesitantly takes out the man’s already hard cock.

“Now open your mouth and show them what a great cocksucker you are, slut,” the man grins, causing Peter and his bitch to sob whereas the rest of the hostages suck in their breaths in horror. A few seconds go by, but then Tony loses his patience and grabs Peter’s head, forcing himself inside the wet heaven as deep as he can with one brutal thrust. The first gagging sound is followed by yet another, desperate whine from the girl, who has her head bowed. “Ay, girl, look at him or it’s gonna get a whole lot worse than this.”

The young woman obeys reluctantly and even puts her hand over her mouth in an obvious effort to thwart herself from throwing up. Tony doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be offended, or amused by it. “Peter, your bitch seems a little jealous. Be a good boy and look her in the eyes.”

Tears are running down the kid’s cheeks when he's squinting over to the young woman whilst still choking and drooling on the dick cutting off his oxygen supply. With one fast motion, Tony pulls out completely and lets the boy catch his breath.

“Oh, yes, it’s delicious, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes, s-s-sir.”

“Tell your girlfriend how much you enjoy sucking my dick.”

“M…Michelle, I…oh g-god, I-I r-really e-enjoy s-sucking T-T-Mr. M-Manhattan’s d-dick.”

“Pete, I-I’m so sorry… I love you,” Michelle weeps, sending a rush of fury through the man. How could she be saying that after-

The boy isn't looking at her when he mutters his reply. “I…I l-love you too.”

Seething, Tony motions Thor to drag Michelle a few feet away before kicking Peter right into his guts so brutally it seems to knock the air out of him for a few seconds. He’s still gasping for breath when Tony forces him down on the ground on his stomach and grabs his slender hips from behind with a livid, hungry expression in his eyes.

Chapter Text

Day Three

Peter hasn’t even had time to try and get on his elbows or knees when his hips are already yanked upwards. A second later, he can feel something slick slipping through the rip in his overall, causing him to cry out despicably. “N-no, PLEASE, d-don’t!”

He tries to wriggle out of the tight grip, but his tied hands are entrapped underneath his chest, and his legs can’t do anything than kick uselessly into the air behind him, rendering him almost as helpless as yesterday. Panic takes over Peter’s body and mind when he feels a hard, wet, big thing pressing against his burning hole. PLEASE!”

There are other people pleading too, but when Tony’s asking loudly if anyone wanted to come up and lick Peter’s ass to get it wet, everyone shuts up in horror. “Seems they don’t like you all that much, do they?”

The boy begs him one last time. “P-Please don’t!”

A moment later, Peter’s agonizing, piercing scream echoes through the hall when the man pushes in mercilessly, audibly gritting his teeth due to the dryness. Peter has never felt so much pain before in his life. It feels like his ass is both split in half and set on fire at the same time, not unlike his skin felt when it was cut open with the knife, but somehow worse.

The boy’s thrashes around in an effort to shake his captor off, but he’s not only restrained and injured, but also horribly dehydrated, malnourished, and exhausted from the torture inflicted on him already. Therefore, Peter’s weak attempts to break free only make Tony laugh evilly and push his mostly dry cock in further, ripping another loud, deafening scream of the boy’s throat.

“STOP, sir, p-please!” MJ cries from somewhere to the left, and even though Peter’s deeply ashamed, he turns his head to see if she’s okay. However, his eyes are swimming in tears, making it almost impossible to see anything apart from blurry outlines.

“Stop? I haven’t even started yet. Your boyfriend’s so tight I’m only halfway in.”

Panic surges through the boy when he realizes that the torture’s far from being over, and desperately, he almost wishes for his ass to start bleeding again so it’d be less dry at least. His wish seems granted when after another minute of unbelievable pain something wet leaks out of his hole and runs down his ass crack down this his balls, but to his horror, it hurts even more now despite Tony actually sliding in a little more smoothly. After a few more seconds, the man eventually groans and buckles his hips forward, causing Peter to gasp in pain.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Tony moans in his ear, his body pressing the smaller one down, “born to please me.” Then, he lifts himself up again a little, one hand fisted in Peter’s hair, grinding his face into the floor, the other one back on the boy’s hip. Peter whimpers a when he feels the cock slipping out slightly, but then, Tony smashes back in relentlessly in one go, burying himself even deeper in his rectum. The teenager feels nothing but burning, shattering pain when his captor starts his brutal thrusting, turning the boy’s screams into a convulsive sobbing.

Suddenly, Tony pauses for a moment to yell across the hall. “Indiana, since Peter denied you his girlfriend’s little boobs, I’m wondering if you want to try his mouth?”

The boy’s too weak and broken to plead with his rapist again, his friends and the other hostages however try their best to beg for mercy on Peter’s behalf and even promise to do whatever they want if they let him go, but Tony doesn’t give a shit. “You should have thought about that before you acted out. I told you to listen to us, didn’t I? I swear, the next one asking for mercy will receive the same treatment, no matter how ugly and unappealing some of you might be.”

Tony sends Pennsylvania over to take Indiana’s place on the right of the hall, but then there’s an angry call from one of his men. “How come he gets some and I don’t?”

“Because he’s mine and only I get to determine who gets a piece of the cake. However, the first person who lets anything slip during the live stream will belong to you, I promise.”

A minute later, Indiana has changed places with Norway, and Tony loosens the grip on Peter’s hair to pull him up onto his shins and knees. Instinctively, the boy moves his tied hands towards Indiana in a feeble attempt to push him away, but the man only laughs. “I think your slut’s trying to grope me…Don’t worry, you’ll get your candy in a second.”

Giving up, Peter tries to make the best out the dreadful situation by forming fists and placing them down on the ground to hold himself up, which isn’t exactly easy considering his arms are shaking terribly. However, it’s better than being held up by his hair or throat like all these other times.

Tony, who’s still buried deep inside the boy, seems to be a little impatient already because he urges Indiana to hurry up. The man’s cock looks dangerously big and for a few seconds, Peter is brave enough to keep his lips sealed, but then Indiana slaps his dick against the teens’s cheek. “Open up.” Although it doesn’t really hurt, the humiliation brings new tears to Peter’s eyes.

Before he can obey, his mouth is forced open by fingers pressing against his cheeks. It's the signal for Tony, who immediately continues thrusting into him slowly just when Indiana’s dick slips into Peter’s mouth, muffling his anguished scream for the most part.

Yesterday, Peter didn’t know what was worse, but today, he does. Although he despises sucking dick because it’s humiliating and disgusting, it’s not as painful as having his ass ripped apart.

“I think this will be the quickest orgasm of my life,” Indiana moans in delight and pushes in further, resulting in Peter having to arch his back and making him feel horribly stuffed. The fact that not only his girlfriend and best friend, but also his classmates are watching him getting raped by two of their kidnappers fills him with even more nausea then it would have otherwise, ripping more broken sobs out of him.

Soon, Peter learns that Indiana has a different ‘mouth-fucking’ technique than Tony; his thrusts are quick and a little less forceful, and even though he does go deep, the boy doesn’t have to gag quite so often. That changes when Tony pushes into him so ferociously that Peter’s thrown forward until his nose is pressed against the curly hair at Indiana’s base, compelling him to take the man’s full, enormous length. Half a second later Indiana rolls his hips forward, a motion that pushes the boy back against Tony again, causing his dick to slam into Peter impossibly deep. For about a minute he’s being moved between the two men almost smoothly, but then one of them loses the beat, forcing both men to hold onto him tightly when they use his body by pounding into his mouth and ass relentlessly.

At this point, the boy has experienced so much pain and humiliation that it feels like his soul is ripped from his body, leaving only a lifeless shell behind. Peter closes his eyes and for a few seconds it’s almost as if he’s floating, but then he concentrates on May and her warm, beautiful smile. She would want him to stay strong…to not let those men break him apart and-

Hot cum filling his mouth forces Peter’s mind and soul back into his body, and even though he’s horribly afraid of the consequences, he spits out as much as he can.

Tony groans half a minute later, shooting his load deep into Peter’s intestines with one last, powerful thrust. The boy is so weak that his shaking arms give in, and Tony, who’s panting heavily, actually collapses on top of him. For about ten seconds Peter’s crushed by the man’s body before he lifts himself off and zips up his pants. “What makes you think you’re allowed to spit out?”

Peter whimpers, knowing full well he won’t have any choice than licking it up now, but he didn’t want to give Tony an opportunity to mock him for being greedy about it or whatever other fucked-up thing the man would have said if he’d swallowed it voluntarily. However, as it turns out, Peter underestimated Tony’s cruelty. “I guess we’ll have to find someone else to do it, then. What about Michelle?”

“NO!” Peter screams in panic and tries to lift his aching body from the ground, “I-I’m s-sorry, sir, I-I’ll do it, I’ll-“

“Too late, slut. But if you insist on sparing your girlfriend, why don’t you choose someone else ?” The boy shutters when Tony points at the crowd. “One of your classmates, for example?”

“Oh g-god, no, I can’t-“

“It’s either one of your classmates or your girlfriend, but I can make it easier for you… If you choose her, I’ll make sure she eats my cum out of your ass too. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Peter’s only response is a loud, broken sob, causing Tony to frown. “Well, I don’t have all day. You better give me a name in the next ten seconds or your girlfriend will additionally receive the special treatment I told you about in the office. Ten…nine…”

Panicking, the boy glances over at his classmates. He can’t do this…None of them deserves any of this, but Michelle doesn’t either and-

“Six…Five…“

The only ones who have ever really given him a hard time are Brad and Flash, but whereas Brad has only become some kind of jerk when MJ chose Peter over him, Flash has been mocking him and Ned from day one. But still, never in his life would Peter want him to-

“Three … Seems he really wants you to eat him out, Michelle… One-“

“F-Flash Thompson.”

There’s a loud gasp coming from the group of teenagers, and whereas Peter’s bursting into fresh tears, Tony’s grinning. “All right, we have a winner. Indiana, bring him to us.”

Peter tries to blend out Flash’s screams when he’s dragged over, but a few seconds later, he’s thrown down in front of him. “Slut, why don’t you ask him to do what you want him to do? Ask him nicely.

Crying bitterly, Peter forces himself to speak. “I-I’m so s-sorry, F-Flash…P-please…l-l-lick…l-lick it up.”

“I-I c-can’t do this,” Flash chokes out, but shuts up when Tony presses the gun to his head. Weeping, he shoots Peter a betrayed look before lowering his head and starting to lick up Indiana’s cum. After the first drop, he already gags. “Oh, don’t you like it?” Tony says with fake concern, “I’m really sorry you little bitch, but you can thank your classmate for that.”

Then, he turns to Michelle who’s looking down at the floor with a blank expression. “Hope you heard your boyfriend offering to do it himself earlier. He actually likes cum, you know… I’m sure he’s drunk more of that than water in the last thirty-six hours. And not just mine, his own too… Told you he was enjoying himself up there with me. Peter, why don’t you tell her how often you orgasmed so far?”

When the boy doesn’t answer right away, Tony kicks Michelle right into the side, causing her to scream loudly.

“F-Four times, s-sir.”

“That’s correct. And now I want you to cum for a fifth time, so you better start jerking off to the sight of your friend here licking up my man’s juices or your pretty girlfriend will pay the price.”

“P-please, sir,” Peter whispers, horrified.

“Please what? Do you want me or any of my men to do it for you? Your girl? Your teacher? Or that chubby friend of yours? Choose wisely, slut.”

N-No, I’ll…I’ll do it m-myself.”

“Good boy. Make sure to ask me for permission before you cum.”

An agonizing pain spreads from Peter’s torn bottom through his whole body when he slowly struggles to get into a sitting position, and promptly he can feel Tony’s cum dripping out of his rectum. Trying not to think what’s going to happen to him if the man has a STD, Peter tries to open his own fly with his zip-tied hands. It turns out to be even more difficult than opening Tony’s, and by the time Peter reaches in for his completely soft dick, Flash has almost licked up half of it.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Start, now, or your girlfriend will have to pay for it.”

A shiver runs down Peter’s spine when he realizes he has to actually take out his cock because jerking off inside the overall wouldn’t really work. Since his hands are tied, he has to grab his dick with both of them, which feels somewhat awkward, and tries to work them on his limp and completely dry organ. It actually kind of hurts when he starts to pump, causing him to panic. How the fuck is he supposed to do this? The dryness and the pain he feels all over, the scary, horribly unerotic situation, the pressure, the people watching them…there’s no way he’d be able to cum like this.

Flash is licking up the last few drops when Peter gives up. “I-I can’t do it, s-sir, p-please, I-I’m s-sorry!”

“Are you telling me you’re incapable of getting your dick hard?” Tony snorts and some of the other kidnappers laugh cruelly. “You’re a despicable excuse for a man, sorry, I mean, a boy, you know that? It makes me wonder if you really need that useless thing of yours.”

Peter bows his head in shame. “I-It’s too d-dry… a-and my h-hands-“

“Too dry? Why don’t you ask your girl to spit on it, then?”

Chapter Text

Day Three

Strictly speaking, Tony’s tempted to order the girl to suck Peter’s dick, but the boy might actually enjoy it somewhat and that's out of the question. Also, he had to be careful about forcing one of the females to any sex-related acts or it would bring him even more trouble with Natasha.

When Peter stays silent, Tony grabs him by the hair. “I told you to ask her to spit on it.”

“M-MJ can you…p-please spit o-on my…my hands?”

Tony snorts loudly. “Hands? You sure about that?

“S-sorry, I meant…m-my … my… p-penis…”

A few silent tears drop from Michelle’s eyes down onto the ground, but then she turns around on her knees and bends over Peter’s lap. Reluctantly, the boy opens his hands far enough so that Michelle can actually spit on his dick, and when she does, he chokes out a broken sob. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t b-be.”

“All right lovebirds, time’s over,” Tony hisses and grabs Michelle by the hair to drag her away. “Now, Peter’s gonna ask his classmates and teacher to help him out just like Michelle did.”

Violent sobs cause the boy’s body to tremble when he addresses his classmates and teacher to come up and spit on his dick too. Tony watches satisfied as they all comply with a certain disgust and despair but without further objection. Maybe they’ve really learned their lesson after all…

Peter blatantly tries to shield his cock from view as best as he can when he tries to gather the spit in his hands, but Tony doesn’t really care. It’s obvious that neither the boy, nor the other kids or his teacher will ever be able to look at each other the same again anyway.

However, a glance at his wrist watch makes the man slightly nervous; they only have twenty more minutes to go live. When the class is finally done spitting (and sobbing, in some cases) onto Peter’s hands, the boy has more than enough lube to get started.

“Five minutes or I’ll do it for you, slut.”

Whimpering, the boy moves his hands up and down more desperately.

“L-Look at me,” the man eventually hears Michelle whispering when Peter’s dick is finally half-hard. “Think a-about Monday…I-Imagine t-touching me.”

Tony starts to ponder about what the fuck happened between them on Monday, the day before the heist, but he’s distracted by the girl slowly opening the zipper of her overall, showing off her shirt. It’s hard to see anything beneath it, but after some hesitation, the little whore actually touches her boobs over her bra and shirt in a weird, sensual way she’s probably seen in a porn video, catching Tony completely off-guard. It seems to help Peter though, because half a minute before the deadline, he quietly asks for permission to cum.

Naturally, Tony’s tempted to say no, but letting him climax would provide him with the opportunity to torment him a little more. “You can cum. Show them what an eager slut you are.”

After a few barely audible moans it’s over and Michelle quickly turns away again when Tony orders Peter to lick his hands clean and put his cock away.

“Now, what are you supposed to do last?”

“T-Thank you, s-sir. F-For letting me c-cum.”

“Good boy. And now…” With a wicked grin, Tony orders Bucky and Thor to grab the kid and hold him down on arms and legs. Only when he takes out the knife, Peter seems to remember what’s about to happen.

“NO, s-sir, PLEASE!”

“One gash for each orgasm. Guess it hasn't made that much of an impression on you yet, hugh?”

The boy’s screams echo through the hall once more when Tony makes the fifth cut on his right thigh. It’s probably more painful than the last four since it’s a vertical cut slightly tearing up the old wounds again too. When Tony’s done, Peter looks as if he’s about to faint, having experienced too much pain and given not enough food and water recently.

Unfortunately, there’s no time for further delays, so Tony quickly tells Thor to wrap a scarf around the boy’s abused neck and drag him to one of the chairs they’ve gathered in the hall. A few of the other hostages are ordered to sit down as well whereas the others are being lined up in a standing position. Peter’s on the right end, horribly distressed by having to sit on his bleeding ass, clutching his leg with the fresh, gaping wound. Next to him there’s an older woman who seems too intimidated to even look at him, causing Tony to smirk.

“You all know what’s awaiting you if you misbehave. Also, don’t think the police will save you from punishment if they charge in. Maybe some of you will be lucky, but most of you will die. Tell them your name, time and date, and that you’re fine. Also, since I’m feeling especially generous today, you can even address your loved ones if you want.”

At 10:58 am, Tony gives the signal to start the stream. Steve uses the same phone as the first day and slowly moves from hostage to hostage, filming. Most of them are crying, but they all confirm that they are treated all right or are well considering the circumstances. Tony’s heart is pounding a little faster when it’s the defiant man’s turn. “I’m… Roger Wessley. It’s 11:14 on April 18th, and…I’m okay. Debbie, I love you and the kids, tell them I’ll be back soon.” The defiant woman sends him a short glance, and when it’s her turn after two more minutes, she actually behaves too.

There aren’t any problems with Peter’s classmates either, but most of the teenagers, no matter what gender, are wailing. In Michelle’s and a blonde girl’s case it’s so bad they can hardly speak, but even they get it over with eventually. Lastly, when Steve steps in front of a terribly sobbing Peter, Tony’s not the only one holding in his breath.

“I-I’m Pe-Peter P…Parker. It’s e-eleven t-t…t-wentyfive, A-April 18th. I…I g-got in a f-fight with…with m-my classmate J-Josh, b-but I-I’m fine. M-M-May, I l-l-lo…I l-love you.” A second later, Steve ends the stream and Tony sighs in relief. He’s intrigued, though – who the fuck is May?

“You’ve all done great,” Tony praises with a satisfied grin. “Thank you for your cooperation. After our fun morning, I’m sure you now have enough motivation to work again, don’t you? Brooklyn and Harlem, come with me, please. Pennsylvania – take the kid.”

Nobody dares to beg Tony to leave Peter with them, not even Michelle or Ned, but when the boy’s hurled off the chair and dragged away from them, they all gasp or whimper when their eyes fall on the bloody fabric on the kid’s bottom.

Back in the office, Rhodey throws Peter to the ground, and although he’s in obvious pain and weak as fuck, he crawls away from them until he’s trapped in the left corner close to the bathroom door. Tony chuckles but lets him be for now.

“As soon as we have the helicopter, we’re going to start Phase Three. Maximum speed at the machines and more hostages for cutting, packaging, and sending. I want all tubes filled with bundles, non-stop. They’ll probably expect us to flee today or in the night, meaning they’ll wait until dawn for sure. If we’re lucky, we can get a few more hours until we’re gonna trigger them to raid the place tomorrow. I’m gonna talk to Ohio about it, but I actually happen to have an idea about what to do.” Tony’s eyes flicker over to Peter, but he doesn’t want the boy to hear it yet. “Until then, business as usual, but stay alerted. Regarding the hostages… prepare fifty-four small pieces of paper. Draw a circle on two of them and form pellets.”

“Why?” Steve asks with a frown.

“As soon as we have the helicopter, we don’t need all of the hostages anymore. I want the others to work as fast and accurately as possible, so we’re gonna kill the two defiant ones from earlier and the two unlucky bastards who’ll receive the papers with the circles. I want them to feel that everything they do has consequences, even for those who didn’t even do anything.”

There’s a silence following the words, interrupted only by Peter’s loud weeping.

“Why fifty-four only, then?”

“Fifty-seven minus the two we’re killing anyway and Peter. I’m not done with him yet.”

Tony then sends his friends off and walks over to the boy to sit down on the floor in front of him. “Who’s May?” Peter cries harder, but refuses to answer. Annoyed, Tony presses the gun to his head. “Who. Is. May?”

“Go on, p-pull the trigger,” the boy chokes out, “W-we both know y-you’re gonna kill me a-anyway, s-so you better do it n-now because I c-can’t do this anymore.”

“Okay, now I’m curious. What makes you think I’m gonna kill you anyway?”

“Y-your face and… and your n-name...”

“That’s right, you’ve seen my face…but, you know, that doesn’t mean you have to die. Thanks to the crazy amount of money we’ll have when this is over, you can be assured that there’s nothing easier than changing my physical appearance. Also, my DNA is all over the place, so if you convince me to let you live, I might just as well do so.”

“F-fuck you,” Peter hisses, “I-I’m not f-falling for that.”

“What do you have to lose?”

The question obviously takes the boy off-guard. “N-nothing," he eventually admits with a dull expression.

“Exactly. Also, since you’ve been listening earlier… If fate is merciful, your girlfriend doesn’t have to die either, but I can see that she’ll receive one of the papers with the circles or just blow her fucking brain out regardless, so I’m asking one last time: Who’s May?”

“M-my aunt but I-I don’t k-know why y-you even care.”

“I just want to get to know you a little better. After all, we’ve gotten really close, haven’t we?” Tony pets the boy’s cheek and grins when he flinches horribly. “Your aunt, hugh? Won’t that make your mommy jealous if you don’t say that you love her too?”

“My parents d-died when I was s-seven.”

Is Tony supposed to feel sorry for him now or some shit? Considering the kid had the luck of growing up with his loving aunt, Tony didn’t see a reason to. “Other family?”

“M-my uncle died t-two years ago.”

“Wow. You really do have a lot of luck, don’t you?” Snorting, Tony gets up and decides to read one of the books he’s brought. He doesn’t even bother locking Peter up this time since he can hardly crawl, let alone walk, and when the boy asks if he can use the toilet a few hours later, the man has no objections. He’s too nervous and a little too sore to play with him anyway.

At three pm, Ohio finally calls to let him know that the helicopter will be brought to them at five. “And please remember to let the pilot go without harming him. Make sure that everyone has their masks and hoods on in case he wears a hidden camera.”

“He most likely will, so we’ll take off our shoes and tell the hostages to do the same to impede any possible identification.”

“About the hostages… The stream is everywhere. Neither the public, nor the FBI are exactly convinced that you’ve been treating them right though, especially because of how awful Peter Parker looked. I guess he’s the one Nat has told me about?”

“Yup.”

“Well, they don’t buy the getting in trouble with Joshua Sinclair story, but they think you hurt him because he acted out and don’t want to endanger the hostages because of that. Make sure the pilot doesn’t see him, though.”

Chapter Text

Day Three

At five pm, Ohio calls again. Peter can almost feel Tony’s anxiety. It’s both scary and somewhat awkward seeing the man showing the first, real human emotion ever since Peter has been dragged into this fucking hell, but it doesn’t ease the sheer infinite hatred and fear he feels towards Tony. In fact, it makes it even worse to admit that this fucking monster has a human side too.

A few minutes later, the man radios for a few of his friends, asking them to come up. “The helicopter is on its way.”

They decide to have twenty ‘armed’ hostages standing around with five of them, and that they would escort the pilot down to the ground floor and let him escape through one of the windows. Tony charges them to be extremely careful and stay as silent as possible. “And make sure to deactivate and reactivate the bomb in time, or we’ll be blown to pieces as soon as we let him open the window.”

“What do we do if there are armed policemen with him?”

“Ohio said that it was considered, but they decided against it because they could still shoot us down when we flee. That’s why we’ve always said that we’ll take a H175 that can hold up to twenty people, remember? They won’t take us down if we have eleven hostages with us.”

Peter’s stomach clenches horribly. That doesn’t sound good at all, and if Tony doesn’t kill him before their escape, then he’ll surely be one of those forced to go with them. But then, one of the guys says something that gives Peter a little bit of hope.

"About that, by the way...Can't you change your mind about letting them go afterwards? I haven't gotten any chance to play with any of them and thought I could-"

"It's too risky, Iowa. Also, you know Russia wouldn't accept it. I doubt you want to risk your close friendship over a fucking hostage."

Iowa mumbles something beneath his breath that Peter can't understand,  but he feels quite relieved. It sounds as if they'd only take some of the hostages to escape the printing plant and would let them go as soon as they're away far enough. Half a minute later, there’s a loud noise coming closer and Tony quickly asks Steve and Norway to tie Peter back to the radiator pipe. They also put a tape over his mouth before they go, leaving him alone with a racing heart. Although he does hope that the FBI has some sort of plan and will get them out, he can’t help worrying.

What if anything goes wrong? Will MJ, Ned, or any of his classmates get hurt? Do they hate him for letting Tony and his awful friends do all these things to him and them? He completely failed everyone. Michelle even had to...had thought she needed to... do what she did because Peter was incapable of following Tony's orders. And it's his fault that Flash-... Why the fuck did he have to be stupid and spit it out? Will he ever be able to forgive himself for anything of what happened in this horrible place?

The office is too far away to hear anything apart from the helicopter landing on the flat roof top, but Peter’s sure that he would have heard gunshots if any had been fired. Half an hour later, however, four actual shots startle him, and he’s close to a heart attack when he remembers the plan to kill four hostages. Did they really go through with it? And who… who are the two people who…

Tony comes back a few minutes later, completely relaxed and apparently very amused by Peter’s desperate expression. “I’m happy to tell you that we’ve received our getaway vehicle. Isn’t that exciting?”

Peter looks at him pleadingly and tries to talk, but the tape is forcing his mouth completely shut. Tony sighs and rips it from his lips, causing the boy to gasp in pain. “W-who did…who d-did-“

“Who did we kill?” The man smirks evilly and sits down on the floor, savoring the panic radiating from the teen. “Well, Roger Wessley and Deborah Hobbs. And fate decided that it was a bad day for Louis Goodman and Dwayne uhm… Foster or something.”

Even though it makes Peter feel sick and extremely guilty, he can’t help being relieved. If Tony told him the truth, all his classmates and Mr. Harrison would still be alive.

“Don’t you want to thank me for sparing your bitch and friends?”

“Thank you, sir, for s-sparing them.”

Tony moves closer until their heads are only inches apart. “Thank me properly.”

It’s kind of obvious what the man wants from him, but it still takes Peter a lot of effort to actually kiss him. For some fucked up reason it’s almost as humiliating as sucking his dick because in his opinion, a kiss is a lovely, intimate gesture reserved for Michelle, and in contrary to the first time, the boy knows he has to act at least a little passionate about it to please the man. It’s still impossible to hold back the tears when Tony’s tongue pushes in hungrily and takes over, turning the kiss into a sloppy, disgusting exchange of salvia.

When it’s finally over, both men are breathing heavily. “What would you be willing to do to survive?”

The question takes Peter by surprise. What could he possibly offer that Tony hasn’t already taken from him? “I…We don’t have a lot of money, I c-could only-“

“We’re going out of here with more than a billion, you dumb shit. I don’t care about money.” Peter’s so taken aback by the sheer impossible amount of money that he simply gapes at Tony, causing him to smirk. “What’s the problem? Don’t you believe me?”

“I j-just…I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Why? Be honest, kid, I’m interested to hear your thoughts.”

“I k-know you’re printing money, but… a billion dollars would weight about … ten tons if you have hundred-dollar-bills. I don’t think there’s a lot of helicopters that can carry that much weight and mass, and even if every hostage helped you carrying it, you now only have a total of 62 people, meaning everyone had to carry uhm… 355 pounds in total. I doubt most of us could carry more than 44 or 66 pounds at once, that means-“

“So you’re not dumb but rather smart, aren’t you? I actually had a feeling when I saw that science pun shirt. I admit, I’m a little impressed. Have you ever gotten your IQ tested?”

“Y-yeah. T-they said I was h-highly talented, m-more than any other kid m-my age in the last twenty years or so.”

Tony looks quite impressed and baffled for a second, but then... “And here I am, thinking you're just good with mathematics, not that there’s actually two geniuses in the room. That's right, my little slut, I'm a genius too. In fact, me and Ohio are two of the ten smartest people who have ever gotten their IQ tested. Ever.”

No, it’s not possible… That fucking asshole can’t be on the same level as Peter’s very own role models like... Hawking, Einstein, Tesla, Sidis... Peter refuses to believe it or he'd have to scream into the void.

“Anyway, you’re right, which is why we’re not going to carry around bags of money. We reactivated the old pneumatic tube system that hasn’t been used since 1953 and those dump idiots out there haven’t even thought of the possibility, can you imagine that? They still aren’t even sure if we’re printing money. With all the tubes down there we can send through at least 180 bundles of 600 one-hundred-dollar-bills per hour to a secret location where Ohio and a few more men help us do the work. Over here, we have your dear friends helping us out, which is what they’ve been doing since the first evening.”

Peter can't help gaping at Tony. It’s a genius plan, no doubt, but… “They can track you down if you use that money. The serial-“

“That’s why Sokovia is here. Even though we’re printing real money, her knowledge about counterfeiting money has helped her figuring out how to do it without anyone ever finding out that these bills are the ones we printed during the heist, something not even I could do. But let’s stop the sweet talk…. what would you be willing to do in exchange for your life?”

“I d-don't...You’ve already taken e-everything from me and I w-won’t allow you to… to hurt MJ or-”

“I don’t care about your fucking friends. Make me an offer I can’t decline and I’ll let you live.”

“W-why should I trust you?”

“Because I could do whatever I want regardless, but instead, I’m offering you a chance. Let’s say… I won’t fuck you again unless you allow me to. I’m gonna ask you at ten p.m., and if the answer is yes, I’ll get to mark and fuck you, but you’ll live. However, if the answer’s no, I’m going to kill you. And don’t tell me that coercion isn’t actual consent, we’re not in court.”

So, this is what Tony wants from him. The last pieces of his pride and dignity. “W-what do you mean ‘m-mark me’?”

“I’m happy you asked. I’d get to cut your name into your lower abdomen.... Just to make sure you’ll never forget it.”

“Why would I forget-“ Peter’s eyes widen in horror when he understands which name Tony’s referring to. “N-no, please, you can’t do this.”

“Okay. I won’t, but then you’ll die. Want to think about it again? I’m gonna go downstairs to discuss our escape plan and oversee our diligent helpers, but I’ll be back at ten.”

Even though it’s neither cold nor hot, Peter’s both shivering and sweating at the same time. Everything inside of him feels so fucking empty…would he even be able to feel joy or happiness about anything again? Why should he suffer more, only to…to maybe give up eventually anyway?

‘For May,’ a deep voice inside his head says, sounding horribly familiar to Uncle Ben, bringing new tears to Peter’s burning eyes. He knows he can’t leave her alone, at least... until he can tell her in person how much he loves her and thank her for everything that she’s done for him and … tell her that it’s not her fault that he’s turned into a miserable, useless weakling, who’s unable to protect himself or his friends from these perverted men. He could still...end h-his l-life if it turned out to be unbearable to live with the shame brought upon him, right? Also, even though a few hours ago Peter had thought that he’d rather be killed than raped again, he doesn’t want all the suffering and pain to be for nothing if he died mere hours before it's finally over.

The office clock shows 9:52 pm when Tony comes back and feeds him with another cookie. “I can’t resist asking… Is this gonna be your ‘Last Supper’?”

The boy gulps down most of it in one go. “N-no.”

“Nice to see that you’re finally living up to your name. However, there’s one more detail you should know, just to be fair… I want to remember your perfect, tight ass for as long as I live, so Steve’s going to film me fucking you. I swear on my life and honor that I won’t upload it anywhere after the heist. Any objections? It's either like this or a bullet to your head.”

What choice does he have, really? Whimpering, the boy slowly shakes his head.

“Excellent. However, since I’m still a little sore from the morning, we’re gonna postpone it until tomorrow. The fucking, I mean, not the… engraving.

With a wide smirk, Tony cuts Peter loose and orders him to get undressed. It takes quite a while until he’s finished since he can hardly move without an immense pain shooting throughout his whole body, and knowing that it’ll soon be a lot worse, doesn’t exactly make it easier.

“Climb onto the desk and lie down on your back. Arms over your head.”

Peter is shaking horribly when he lies down on the hard surface, and as soon as his back has touched the hard surface, Tony ties his hands together with a thin, long rope. “Good thing I finally remembered that we brought a few of these, right?”

A few minutes later, Peter’s tied wrists are stretched painfully above his head, probably fixed to one of the leg tables since the rope doesn’t give an inch when he tugs at it unobtrusively. Tony then grabs Peter’s lower legs dangling off the edge of the table by the knee pits and ties them to the table legs before taking out his knife with an evil grin.

“Ready to be marked, slut?”