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but he likes it like that

Summary:

This group has nothing but ill intentions for Leon.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Leon should hate everything about this situation, but he has always been too horny for his own good.

The group that manages to kidnap him is a rough looking one, but he recognizes some of them, or at least, he is pretty sure that he does. He has defeated a lot of trainers during her career, so that makes it hard to be certain, but he is pretty sure that he recognizes some of them as some of the more bitter losers in his past, and if that is the case, then that at least gives this gang a bit of a motive for this kidnapping.

Of course, there are a lot of people who would like to get their hands on the champion, for a variety of reasons, but if he had to guess, he would say that this group in particular is out to get the champion that defeated them, all of them bitter and discouraged, and wanting some sort of revenge against him for that, even if it will never get them the victory that they once craved. Not that it really matters one way or another what their reasoning is; the point still remains that he is tied up and helpless, and that they have violent intentions, enough to intimidate, and even terrify, anyone in this position.

And for the most part, at least in the beginning, he is so terrified that he can barely stand it all. He even has his mouth bound, so that there is nothing he can do or say to try and reason with them, and he is rendered completely helpless as they group up around him, looming over him from all sides, showing him just how much power that they all have over him right now. On the battlefield, he is undefeated, and so strong that no one can even come close to getting an edge over him, but without his Pokemon, without his battle strategies, without a crowd cheering for him, and without that same goal of absolute victory, he is nothing.

Leon is painfully aware of that in the moment, and he aches with that knowledge, and his heart skips a beat as he realizes what this feeling is, and realizes that this reaction is not entirely fear. He has always been too horny for his own good, but he never expected that side of him to come out when he was really in danger. The masochistic fantasies that he has had in the past, never sharing with anyone else, were entirely private and entirely controlled, and he always thought that they would not matter a bit if he were actually hurt, or actually in danger. They were simply sexual fantasy, but in reality, he would respond like anyone else, wouldn’t he?

Obviously, that is not the case, and the first time one of them kicks him in the stomach, his groan is muffled by the cloth tied around his mouth, and it hurts and he hates it, and at the same time, some primal part of him absolutely loves it. Leon can only pray that they don’t notice, or that he snaps out of it soon enough, as more descend on him, all of them finding it so amusing to kick him and watch him groan and writhe in pain. Pain, and something else, but he can keep that under control, he tells himself. He can keep his captors from finding out just how he feels about all of this.

One of them kneels down, pulling his hair hard as they pull him up to face them. They rear back a hand, and punch him hard, hard enough that he lets out a muffled scream, hearing a wet crunch from his nose, and then feeling the warm gush of blood as he starts to bleed. Head spinning, he can practically taste the blood even though there is no way for it to leak into his mouth, and someone else switches off, taking hold of his hair so that they can punch him, hard in the eyes.

It hurts so much and he can hardly think at all at this point, until one of them says something that makes his blood run cold. “Hey, is it just me or is he loving this?”

“Holy shit, he is.” “The fucking freak’s into this?!” “The champion likes getting beat up? What would your fans say about that?” “That’s fucking sick, and it’s like we can’t even punish him, not if he fucking likes it all.” “Come on, let’s just give him what he wants, the freak!”

They crowd around him again, and he can’t contain it, can’t hide that he likes it, especially not as his pants come off, and he is moved into a position that makes it easy for one of them to come and fuck him. Thrusting hard, Leon is filled all at once, and that hurts so much, because no matter how into this he is, there was nothing to get him ready for that, and even that pain brings a certain kind of pleasure with it.

This is all so wrong, and they all circle around him to watch as he is fucking senseless, bruised and bloodied and screaming behind his gag, and they watch him struggle and watch him give into it, and they all mock him. He can’t make sense of what anyone is saying anymore, his thoughts so hazy, his brain so dizzy, that it all blends together, but he knows the gist of it, and knows that they are mocking him. They are telling him how pathetic and disgusting he is, how he is a filthy freak for liking this, and how they could ruin him so easily, how he is not worthy of his position, or anyone’s respect.

And even if those are not actually the things that his captors say to him, it does not matter, because Leon knows it all to be true either way. Those are the words ringing in the back of his head even as he slips in and out of consciousness. They take turns with fucking him, and they take turns with beating him again, and Leon tries to struggle against the ropes that dig into his wrists, while trying so hard to hate the abuse.

He tries but he just can’t hate it, no matter how hard that he tries. Somewhere deep inside, he has always liked this, has always wanted this, has always needed this, and now, they can all tell that he loves it, and all know that secret, depraved side of him. And so, they are able to mock and degrade him for it, reminding him how disgusting he is, as if he did not already know that well enough. No matter how hard he tries to hate it like he is supposed to, no matter how hard he tries to resist the urge his body has to enjoy it, there is nothing he can do about this primal part of him.

There is nothing that he can do about how much of a pathetic, horny, slutty masochist that he has always been, and will always be.

They do what they can to push him to his limit, always seeming to know what to do and when to hold back, to make sure that he does not pass out, and is not pushed too far beyond his limit, always pulling back when they need to. Leon is kept right there on the edge at times, vision sometimes blurring, and as his bruised eye swells, that effects his vision as well, but he is kept conscious, no matter how far they try to go with him, and he can’t resist the way that he loves it.

When he is not being pounded into from behind, he is being punched and kicked, having his hair pulled hard, and having more and more insults hurled at him, while all he can do is endure it, having given up on trying to stop himself from enjoying it. Even with no idea when or how this will end, or what they are going to keep doing to him, or if they will ever be done with him, he continues to enjoy the way that they torment and abuse him. Sometimes, while he is fucked, the one railing him will reach around to grip at his throat with their hand, squeezing tight enough to leave bruises in their wake.

But then, it does all come to an end. They do not plan on keeping him forever, and eventually, they have worked out whatever frustrations they have brought him here for, at least for now. Leon tries not to let himself hope for more pain in the future as he is finally freed, where he can examine the rope burns on his arms, the bruises left behind on his body. He can hardly wait to look at himself in the mirror and assess the full damage, and it hurts to even smile right now, but still, he smiles, because it all feels so damn beautiful.

Notes:

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