"Hmm, we really got him!"
A bawling laugh erupted through the shadowy empty streets as they- a middle aged man who wears a black beard and seeps an uncanny darkness- unceremoniously carried the limp body of the young freckled boy, "We'll take him to the usual."
A song sang into the moment. Laffitte pointed out, "Hey, he's got a phone."
"Chuck that thing away! It could cause us some trouble."
Nippy hands dug into the pockets of khaki shorts and reached for the device before yanking it out in annoyance. Not paying any attention to the drumming vibration or the caller, the paled-man uncaringly threw the phone onto the cement pavement and it effortlessly shattered the screen. With howls of laughter, both men continued their way as the phone laid discarded; the cracked image of a smiling blonde man staring back inanimately, still waiting to be answered.
Slowly lifting heavy lids, Ace found it difficult to distinguish where he was; his grey eyes with a titled perception could only make out the small candle-light that coated the room in a dim golden-hue and some shuffling movements of strange silhouettes that danced on the walls. And then there was a bashing in his head that painfully throbbed his mentality into a dizzy haze; he simply couldn't think straight and certainly had no idea as to how he got here. He also found that it was uncomfortable humid and only suddenly, when he felt a hand roughly stroke against his thigh did Ace widen his eyes in shock and burst in sheer terror of his current circumstance. The room was quickly clear to him now; weathered and cracked plaster walls, rubbish and litter scattered all over the floor, dirt-stained bed sheets laid before him and a revolting stench burned his nose. But what Ace couldn't stop looking at was the small puddle of fabric left irrelevant in the dark corner that looked like a tangle shorts and a shirt. He then horridly realised as the rough strokes began kneading all over his body, that he was in fact without those clothes, lying with his bare chest pressed against the bed and his back exposed to whoever was currently molesting him. Shit. Without another second to spare, Ace strove to suddenly lift himself up and smash himself against the stranger in surprise, maybe throw a few strong punches at the bastard before leaving this ghastly place and returning home where he wanted to be with Marco. Except he couldn't, for his limbs remained unresponsive to his demands; his muscles heavy with burden and unfeeling with numbness. He was paralysed. Shit. Shit.
He opened his mouth; wanting to protest, hoping to get the stranger to fuck off and to angrily shout-out a string of verbal abuse towards the bastard that dared to touch him. But he heard nothing escape from his mouth; nothing but strained breaths that haggardly gasped and mingled with the low pleasured groans that sounded from the stranger as they continued fondling with every part of his body. Shit. Shit. Shit. This was not happening.
Ace consequently felt his right hand being lifted by an invisible force and placed around something behind that made him desperately want to recoil it back; however, his hand didn't budge to his command. It only tightened its grip and began slow strokes on the appallingly slick length that had Ace internally trembling with disgust at the stranger but most of all, at himself. How could he be so stupid as to end up in a situation like this? How could he let himself touch a man other than Marco? Marco. Ace narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth in self-remorse at the thought of his boyfriend; his blonde lustrous locks that topped his head, his beautiful blue and heavy-lidded eyes, his jawline of fine facial shrubbery, his sentences that regularly end in that distinct little 'yoi'… It all came to the Ace so visibly; every characteristic, every aspect and every detail he came to love about Marco. How Marco was so calm, so wise, so caring, so loving and it hurt the most to reflect upon, but Marco was so damn loyal and faithful… And Ace felt that he was betraying that quality, soiling everything good the blonde had given him, up until now. Why did he have to drink so much? Why did he even persist on going out in the first place when Marco was reluctant for him to leave? How could he be so stupid?
An untamed groan filled the room as Ace's averse hold on the stranger's length continued heavy strokes and tightening squeezes before not too long, an orgasmic moan escaped from the unknown figure; leaving Ace gulping down a holler of disgust as he felt a sticky discharge spurt on his naked back. Fuck! A substantially bulky weight then dropped against the ebony-haired; and it didn't take a long moment to realise that the foreigner was also naked and had slumped on top of him in laboured and foul breath. Now so desperate and unquestionably frightened; Ace summoned all his will and strength to avoid from engaging in anymore sinful acts, feeling a wondrous sense of hope as he managed to wriggle under the large body; a small but momentous step to escape. Only until a large meaty hand came crushing the side of his head into the mattress, smothering half his face into the dirty bed-spread and effectively ceasing Ace from any attempt to leave control from the stranger.
"Be a good boy!" they harshly barked before suddenly shifting to gently caress his freckled cheeks with a humming kind breath, "You're a good boy..."
And almost without any warning or incoming, the foreigner moved to sink their teeth into the delicate flesh of the younger man's neck; producing a pained cry from Ace that made it his first audible sound since he woke up in this situation. The stranger mercilessly continued to harshly bite and mark upon the unblemished ivory of young skin; each time fabricating a shrilling scream from Ace until he died down into soft whimpers at the scarring wounds. He didn't want this; he didn't want any of this. The weight on his back finally lifted as the stranger shifted to straighten theirs; and Ace used this opportunity to jerk his body up, hoping to throw them off before they tried anything further. However, his efforts were futile against the complete dominancy of the unknown person. They began moving down and Ace knew what was inevitably coming but he was not prepared for any of it because he wanted to fight so bad… Fight for his pride, for his freedom and for a night spent in the arms of Marco instead of all this. He jerked, he bucked, he repelled, resisted, he leapt and he vaulted; making any and every form of movement he could scarcely produce to oppose them with a desperate wail of refusal.
The stranger remained unaffected and unmoved by his struggles. Hard hands clamped and anchored his hips down and to his absolute horror; Ace felt sloppy and dripping lips press against his rear end; like the stranger was glorifying whatever they were about to do like some fucked up sex-crazed freak. At that point, the ebony-haired was ferociously flailing and sobbing at the disgusting gesture; feeling his whole existence begin to crumble into utter shame and humiliation. They knelt behind him, hands still firmly clamped but elevating his bare buttocks in position; and at this point, Ace stopped struggling, deserting every hope and chance he had at evading this. He prayed a silent prayer, clinching his eyes closed in useless preparation. Please don't… One ruthless and agonising ram forced itself into the freckled man; creating a shattered harmony of a weeping cry from Ace and an exclaimed groan of ecstasy from the stranger that pierced into the night. They began plunging inside of him and Ace suffered. He felt every piece of his happiness, everything that was good to him; decay and waste into their quick, rhythmic grunts. He felt the possessive and amorous barriers that Marco so carefully built, a castle for his body ruled by his blonde lover; become intruded and demolished with each vicious thrust that tore inside him. He had nothing to stop the patterned bashing of his head against the headboard of the bed, nothing to grip as the unbearable prodding drove deep and stang into his backside and nothing to silence the heaving sobs that ripped from his throat.
But this was justification. Ace realised it was in fact his fault that he ended up having someone fuck him from behind. He was pathetic and he was asking for it by drinking so much earlier that night. Apologies and pleas bled through the tears that pricked at his eyes as the tormenting insertions continued breaking and splitting him apart. Moments that felt like an eternity passed, before a stimulating chill untimely ran through his body then. He grinded his teeth in agitation; his narcolepsy was damn late for befalling him into a sea of unconsciousness. But it probably didn't matter, because Ace was already so dirty and ruined; and had already drowned in misery and regret as he blacked out the second time that night. I'm so sorry Marco.
Slowly lifting heavy lids, Marco turned to expectantly face his lover next to him; gently reaching a hand out to seek the warmth of a sleeping Ace that he was so lovingly familiar with every night in bed. But he was met with nothing. Nothing but cold bed-sheets and an empty space that yearned for the presence of the freckled young man. Stirring himself around towards the side-table; the blonde glanced at the glowing red digits of the clock that flicked 2:23AM and his heart sank. Ace, where are you? What are you doing?
Yep, it's Blackbeard for sure; no arguments. And 2 minutes after Marco tried to call Ace, he called Sanji if that clarifies and links the times with the previous chapter... I only wrote the opening and closing piece for this chapter, and I know it's just fanfiction, but I found it so difficult and heart-breaking to have to write Marco's bit ): Because in relation to reality; there's always a lover, a friend or a relative that feels the way Marco does when someone has to go through such a horrible and scarring experience... I really don't know what to say anymore.
The Steubenville High School Rape Case. One of the most appalling and disgusting cases to ever come out of America; and I am aware that it's probably old news but I was and still am absolutely out-raged and sickened by the actual happening of the event and the outcome. A group of boys transported a 16-year-old girl to various parties where they undressed, photographed, sexually assaulted, and orally penetrated her. Their tweets, texts, photos and the fact that they video-recorded the night AS WELL AS label themselves the rape crew, is unspeakably horrifying and fucked up. And how did the media react to this? THEY GO ON TO GLORIFY THE 2 BOYS ACCUSED OF RAPING THE GIRL, SAYING HOW BIG THEY COULD HAVE BEEN AS SUPERSTAR FOOTBALL PLAYERS and HOW IT WAS THE GIRL'S FAULT THAT SHE WAS RAPED BECAUSE SHE WAS DRUNK. THAT IS "VICTIM BLAMING" AND THIS IS "RAPE CULTURE".
And if society continues to blame the rape of a victim according to not only their level of intoxication but aspects like the victim's clothing, the victim's age, the victim's previous relationship with the rapist, the victim's image or the victim's level of consciousness; it will ultimately lead people, like Ace in this chapter, to believe that it was NOT rape and that it was THEIR fault. The victim should NEVER be blamed, as rape is ENTIRELY the rapist. ./end rant for now
Honestly, I had a hard time writing this out because it's actually my first time having a go at a rape scene...Hopefully it's not too bad. But many thanks to: Son Goshen, Anjelle, Portgas D. Paula, Noitalapsi, Stuff'nStuff, azab and ImperialMint for reviewing the last chapter. It was lovely to read them all and I hope it doesn't stop there. Mochi is taking the wheel for the next chapter so look forward to that !