There are too many of them, too many hands touching, too many voices, the smell of too much arousal, so thick and loud and overwhelming that Matt squeezes his eyes shut and tries to clamp his hands over his ears.
He can't, of course, because his hands are set wide above his shoulders and chained to a pole, and the pole is chained to the wall and also to a collar. On his neck. It's one of those prong collars people use for big, unruly dogs, the kind where every pull of a leash means sharp metal points digging into his flesh, and Matt feels it every time he moves his arms. It's been long enough that they're starting to ache.
The air is cold on his unclothed skin, concrete hard under his knees. His knees are also cuffed to a second pole, a spreader bar, and that's chained to another spreader between his ankles and to the wall.
Matt had tried to escape, at first, tugging at the chains, pulling until his ankles and wrists and knees bled and the prongs of the collar nearly pierced his veins, but the bonds were too secure. His only hope is to survive this, and that maybe someone will take mercy on him and let him go.
Now, instead of being alone in a cell, there are all these people coming in, he's not sure from where or why. Some of them are laughing. Some of them are masturbating. He can tell by their arousal and the sound of hands sliding rhythmically over and under fabric, male and female alike. There are so many voices it's hard to focus on what anyone is saying, but he catches snippets here and there.
-- looks like he put up a fight, look at those bleeding wrists --
-- that's the Devil of Hell's Kitchen? --
-- can't wait to get a taste of him --
-- give him what he deserves --
Someone comes closer and stabs a needle into his ass, injecting something that burns. Another pair of hands grabs at his face, holding his nose shut until he opens his mouth to breathe, then shoving something between his teeth, forcing his mouth open wider, and securing the device around the back of his head with a strap.
-- fifteen minutes to take effect, ladies, so let some of the men go first --
And then the hands that have been idly touching him here and there pull back and are replaced by more hands, big, masculine hands, pulling apart his ass cheeks as a cold, wet lubricant drips down between. Matt thrashes desperately, but only succeeds in hurting himself more. The man behind him laughs and forces himself in.
There's more after that, another dick sliding into his mouth through the device holding him open, shoving down his throat until he can't breathe, then pulling back just before he loses consciousness. Hands pinching and tugging at his skin. The one behind him fucking him hard and rough, tearing him open, coming and being replaced by someone else. Someone pulling his hair so hard it's a miracle it doesn't come out.
Tears leak from the corners of his eyes, drool drips from his mouth, and a mixture of lubricant, blood, and semen trickles down the back of his thigh.
That's not the worst of it, though.
The worst of it is that fifteen minutes after the injection, Matt's dick starts to get hard. It doesn't matter that he doesn't want it, it doesn't matter that everything hurts, it doesn't matter that he's humiliated by the things the people around him are saying (look at him taking that dick / bitch isn't so strong now, is he? / fucking cock sucking lips). They gave him something and his dick is getting hard and the women in the room are starting to move closer to him and God in Heaven please, please--
Someone wraps a strap around his chest, moves his chains, and shoves him forward, and he falls onto the soft body of a naked woman underneath him. He's held up only by the strap on his chest which is attached to something, suspending him just enough that he doesn't crush the woman with his weight. There's still a man behind him, driving into him, and Matt is crying and making some kind of horrible noise from back in his throat, but the drug they gave him makes it impossible to resist hitching his hips forward as the woman under him grabs his dick and guides him into her.
He doesn't want his dick to be hard, he doesn't want her hot cunt to feel good, he doesn't want to come from this, but he can't help it, he can't stop it.
He screams, then.
He screams, and falls limp, and people laugh.
They laugh, harder, at how he starts shaking his head, no no no, when he realizes that he's still hard, and that this torture is just beginning.
Holy Mary, Mother of God
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death