Mitch was terrified.

The first thing he’d done after Richard left was get dressed. He’d found a large button up shirt that smelled almost like the lemon detergent his mother used, a pair of boxers that kept trying to fall off his hips, and shorts that had to be synched with a belt and hung down to below his knees. It was awkward, but at least he wasn’t naked. Once he’d dressed, he’d tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He’d searched for a while for something he could pick the lock with, but the closet had all plastic hangers and there wasn’t anything else that came even close. Not that Mitch knew how to pick a lock, anyway.

His next goal had been to find a phone, because surely Richard would want to call people, but there wasn’t a phone anywhere, only a phone jack that connected to the laptop, which was password protected.

Having failed that, he decided to try the windows, but they were sealed shut without even a latch. Then he’d sat on the bed and stared at his surroundings for a good ten minutes before grabbing the desk chair and slamming it into the window. It bounced off, hitting his shoulder painfully. He’d thrown other things at the window as well, mostly out of frustration, but also because he was nearing hysterics and at least this was something, it wasn’t giving up. Although, to be honest, even if he could have broken it, the bars were too closely spaced for him to get out.

Eventually, after nearly an hour of tossing the room around, the heavy lethargy from the pills had become too much and he’d laid down on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly. It wasn’t until he had woken up and sluggishly rubbed his eyes into focus that he realized exactly how much damage he’d done. Oh, he hadn’t broken anything, but everything - from Richard’s clothes, to his medicine bottles - were strewn across the floor and the window was covered in sticky soda and beer from the cans he had thrown at it.

The clock read 6:00 p.m. and Mitch looked around for any sign that Richard had come back. Nothing. He’d been gone for six hours. Standing up, Mitch clutched at the wall as a wave of dizziness hit him. Not good. He couldn’t afford to pass out again, he had to keep moving, had to clean up the mess. The dizziness refused to pass, so he sat on the floor and started gathering clothes and anything else that he could remember having been in the closet.

An armful at a time, he hauled everything over and shoved it inside, then forced the door closed and put his back to it, looking out at the rest of the room. The desk, he should put everything back in the desk drawers next. He stood up and was pleased that the room wasn’t spinning quite as much. At least he could walk without support. Then the door opened.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, because he certainly hadn’t thought the entire room would be done by the time Richard got home, but of all the scenarios he’d run through his head in the last twenty minutes, it had always been Richard who walked through the door. Instead, he was faced with the lanky redhead from the club. "What the fuck, Richard, your place is a fucking mess!"

He barely had time to realize the accent was American before Mickey pushed through, "Bloody hell!"

Richard squeezed in between them and his eyebrows shot up. Mitch had pushed himself into the far corner at the foot of the bed when he’d heard the key in the lock, but he was starting to wish he’d left himself somewhere else to run, especially when Richard locked eyes with him. "Awake, then?"

He nodded, ashamed at the way he was shaking and Richard chuckled, walking over to him and rustling his hair. "I didn’t expect you to start moving for another hour, at least. You just keep surprising me." He kicked the cans towards his desk. "Come on in. You’ll have to excuse the mess, Mitchell-dear got a little restless."

The redhead, he remembered his name was Tanner, eyed Mitch, taking in the small boy in baggy clothes. "Guess you shouldn’t leave him alone yet, huh?"

Louis came in after his brother, whistling, and Paul came in last, closing the door behind him and punching in a sequence of numbers on the keypad before turning the lock into place. Mitch wished dearly that he could see through the wall.

They arranged themselves around the room. Richard took the middle of the bed, leaning against the wall. Paul sat next to him against the headboard and toed off his shoes, sprawling casually on the pillows. Louis and Mickey sat on the floor and Tanner pulled the desk chair around, sitting in it with his legs sprawled open and his elbows on his knees.

They watched television, random shows, whatever was on. Richard beckoned for Mitch to join him on the bed and when Mitch tried to shake his head no, Richard had grabbed his arm and yanked him up, holding him there with an arm around his shoulder. He felt like a small child being tossed around by his father and it occurred to him exactly how useless trying to fight the man would be. He could probably use Mitch as a bench press.

For a while, Richard seemed interested in some program about a serial killer and how he had gotten away with murdering ten people over the course of six years. They had started describing the killers methodology, which was apparently gutting the victims alive, and Mitch had started to feel sick as he watched Richard’s face. It was almost like he was studying it. Just when he thought he might actually throw up, Paul grabbed the remote and changed the channel, saying that he didn’t feel like watching ‘this shite.’

When they got bored of television, Richard made the boys put a video game in, and they started playing Halo, two against two with Louis and Mickey trading off. Richard made Mitchell play a few times. It was easy, just for those brief moments, to forget where he was and who he was sitting next to and the fact that it wasn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, consensual. He’d laughed when he’d managed to kill Louis once and Richard had hugged him and kissed his cheek, humming approval in his ear. It was almost fun.

Then Richard’s grin changed. "You boys ready?" It was almost a whisper, but the others heard it.

Tanner narrowed his eyes at Richard. "Where’d you get it this time?"

Richard chuckled, his mouth still close to Mitch’s ear. "Don’t ask, don’t tell, Tanner, my boy, but it’s quality. It always is."

Very slowly, Mitch began to realize that they were talking about drugs. He hadn’t had much experience with the stuff, in fact, he had none and the idea of Richard on drugs scared the piss out of him. Richard pulled away and dug into his pocket, producing a small bottle that looked like it was from a pharmacy. He opened it and fished out three before handing it to Mickey, "Take one and pass it along."

As the others took the little white pills and shoved them in their mouths, swigging them down with beer. Richard passed one to Paul and took one himself. Paul looked at it and finally shook his head, "Not tonight, Richard."

Richard leaned over Paul, licking his cheek, "Don’t make me beg."

Mitch got the feeling that begging was the last thing Richard would do, not with the way he was grinning like an animal on the hunt. Paul sighed and popped it in and Richard kissed him, full on the mouth. It was heart stopping for a moment. There weren’t any tongues and it didn’t appear particularly lusty, but something about the two of them and the way Richard’s pants were becoming tight against Paul’s leg, was breathtaking.

Finally, after several seconds, Richard pulled away. "Good boy. We are going to have so much fun tonight." Then, he turned his attention to Mitch. "Open up, Mitchell-dear, you’re going to take a little ride."

He’d never done drugs before and he wasn’t about to start now, not with some psychopathic kidnapper and his group of equally psychotic friends. Mitch started to back up, but suddenly someone was behind him and he looked back to see Tanner holding his shoulders and staring intently at him. "Trust him, Mitch, you’ll want it."

But he didn’t want it, he wanted to go home. How could he have forgotten, for even a moment, who these people were? He’d been kidnapped for no apparent reason and was being held captive in the garage apartment of a twenty-something-year-old actor and these men were the man’s accomplices. He tried to pull away from Tanner, but Richard had sat on his legs and he couldn’t go anywhere. "I don’t want to."

Richard frowned, "Doesn’t matter. Open up or I’ll make you."

It wasn’t an empty threat. Mitch didn’t doubt for an instant that Richard could indeed make him, but he wasn’t going to just roll over and take what they told him to. What if it was crazy addictive? What if he had some kind of allergic reaction? Would they take him to a hospital or even a doctor, or would they just let him die?

However, Richard wasn’t waiting for an answer. He grabbed Mitch’s jaw between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. Tanner’s grip on his shoulder’s tightened as Mitch tried to scoot back from the prying grip. Slowly, his jaw was forced open and Richard shoved the pill between his teeth and let go, only to clamp a hand over his mouth. "Swallow."

Mitch could feel tears tracking down his cheeks. He couldn’t shake his head, he couldn’t do anything when he was sandwiched between two men both larger and stronger than he was. Finally, he slumped down and closed his eyes, forcing himself to swallow. It left a chalky taste in his mouth that was quickly overpowered by the salty tang of Richard’s finger as it searched around, trying to find any trace of the pill.

With a great deal of effort, Mitch managed not to bite down and Richard pulled out the finger, smiling down at him, "Good boy. You can let him go, Tanner."

The redhead licked Mitch’s ear as he let go of his shoulders and Mitch jerked away, pressing himself against the wall and as far away from everyone else as he could. Why were they all leering at him like that? They stopped almost as soon as they started. Tanner sat back on his chair and he and Louis picked up the controllers again. Mickey had never let go of his. Richard offered Paul a turn, but the other man passed, so Richard ruffled Mickey’s hair affectionately, "It’s you and me against the world, mate."

Mitch watched, heavy and unsure. He couldn’t feel anything yet, but then, he really wasn’t sure how long it would be before he did. Part of him wanted to ask what it was he had taken, another part was simply relieved that they were leaving him alone again. Maybe that was all Richard wanted for now. Maybe they would get high and play video games all night and that was it.

It started with the sudden urge to scratch his arm. He’d been hugging himself since they had forced the drug on him and suddenly his arm itched. He moved his hand, scratching the spot and looked at it. There wasn’t any kind of rash. Richard was looking at him and he started to scoot away nervously, only to have the larger man reach over and wrap an arm around him shoulders, dragging him over.

"Let’s let our guest have a turn, eh?"

Paul sucked in his breath sharply and Mitch looked over at him. The brown haired man was sitting in the corner watching them warily, as if he expected something bad to happen. Mitch remembered Paul’s words that night at the club, ‘get the hell out of here, kid.’ He didn’t want to imagine what was going to happen. He just wanted to play video games until he passed out and maybe he could convince Richard to take him home in the morning.

The actor grabbed his face, kissing him soundly. Mitch’s lips tingled at the contact and he let out a startled moan. Before he could determine what it was, though, Richard pulled away and moved him over to sit between Richard’s legs, thrusting the controller into his hand. "Try and concentrate."

He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he resolved to do his best. Tanner was feeling ruthless, but luckily Mickey had his back or he’d have died several more times than he already had. Louis was creeping around a corner and Mitch had him in his sights. He pressed the button just as a hand crept under his lose-fitting shirt and pinched his nipple. His squeak of surprise was covered by Louise outraged cry as his screen went red and he re-materialized in another area. Mitch, however, wasn’t paying attention to that. His nipple was tingling sharply where Richard’s finger was rolling it and his cock had become instantly hard.

What the hell was going on? He couldn’t bite back a moan as Richard scraped his ear with his teeth and squeezed his nipple again. Mitch had only ever made out with one boy before and that had been a friend of his brother’s last year, before he started dating Mark, but he knew what it felt like when someone pinched his nipple or bit his ear and it had never felt anything like this. Everywhere Richard touched, his body started to itch for more contact. It was embarrassing and arousing and the conflict of emotions was enough to nearly send him into frustrated tears.

Richard chuckled and trailed kisses from his collarbone back up to his ear, "Keep playing."

He forced his hands to move, though he really wasn’t sure what he was doing. There was a small portion of his brain that registered he’d fallen off the edge of something and lost hit points, but the majority of his mental faculties were rapidly turning to mush as Richard unbuttoned the borrowed shirt and ran his broad hands over the exposed skin underneath. It felt so good! Mitch took one hand off the controller and put it over Richard’s, not sure whether he was trying to pull it away, or push it lower.

With another lazy lick up the side of his neck, Richard’s hand crept lower, delving into the over-sized shorts. The moment the large hand wrapped around his cock, Mitch came, spewing cum inside his trousers. But his erection didn’t flag and Richard didn’t falter, not in the least daunted by the fact that his partner had already cum. Mitch whined piteously and found himself grinding into the hand, humiliated, but desperate for the contact.

The others were still playing the game, though he’d begun to notice through his haze that they were occasionally touching themselves, Paul especially, who couldn’t stop rubbing his arms as if he was cold - except it wasn’t cold in the room. The drugs. His moans rose in volume as Richard moved his fingers to scrape Mitch’s tight balls, over and under. It must have been the drugs, because Mitch had never felt anything like this.

One of Richard’s fingers crept down and brushed against his puckered entrance and Mitch’s brain suddenly decided to start working again. He wanted to be touched, god he wanted to be touched everywhere, but he didn’t want that. Forcing his legs closed, he wondered half heartedly when they had fallen open in the first place. He grabbed onto Richard’s arm and tried to move his hand back up and into safe territory, but the actor was far stronger than him and whatever they’d given him made his muscles feel weak and useless.

For a moment, Richard allowed agonizing respite, taking his hand out of Mitch’s pants so that he could use it help trap both of the smaller boy’s wrists. Mitch groaned desperately, wishing he’d fought harder against taking the drug or not gone out on his birthday at all. Richard held his wrists tightly and grinned at his friends sitting on the floor. "Louis, get up here and help."

The controller was dropped and Tanner scowled, apparently annoyed at having his partner abandon him. Louis, however, didn’t seem to mind in the least. He grinned like a Cheshire and crawled onto the bed, grabbing Mitch’s tightly closed knees and prying them apart. "Be a good boy, Mitch. We just want to play with you."

Louis positioned himself with his shoulders between Mitch’s knees, which put Louis’s face just above his crotch. This wasn’t happening. Mitch was torn between whining and moaning as Richard adjusted his grip to hold both of the wrists in one hand and put the other back in his trousers, bypassing his cock and going straight for his arse.

Mitch tried to lift his hips away from the contact, but Louis had wrapped his arms around his thighs, holding him down against the bed as Richard forced the tip of a finger past the resistance of his hole. It hurt a little, the dry finger rubbed past the tightly clenched pucker, but it was the embarrassment of the situation that hurt the worst.

He’d had fantasies about losing his virginity, just like any other boy and girl out there. He generally imagined it would be in his bed or the back of a car with loud music playing. Overall, he didn’t really expect a great deal from a first-time experience, but he’d never imagined it would be like this - not with two men holding him down while three others alternately watched and played video games.

Richard pulled the finger out and put it in front of Louis’s face. "Suck it."

Louis grinned and pulled the finger into his mouth. Mitch stared open-mouthed as Richard’s finger was sucked into the back of the Spaniard’s mouth. After several seconds of lathering spit on it, Richard pulled it away and put it back in Mitch’s pants. This time the finger had no trouble gaining entrance and it slipped in to the knuckle with ease. Mitch cried out, more from the suddenness than pain. In fact, with the addition of spit, the pain was practically non-existent, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of relief brought on by the drug.

From the floor, Mickey was half paying attention to them and half trying to win the battle against Tanner, who seemed to have a personal vendetta against the man. "Louis, do that thing where you suck him. I’m sure he’ll love it."

Louis grinned at Mitch, who did moan this time, because his groin ached for attention and if there was one thing that would take his mind off the finger slowly fucking his ass, having his cock sucked was it. The Spaniard licked a trail up the inside of Mitch’s thigh before looking past him at Richard. "Can I, Richie? Can I suck his cock?"

"Be my guest."

Louis removed himself from between Mitch’s legs long enough to pull the trousers off, but by now, he’d almost resigned himself to the finger forced between his cheeks and besides, it was only a finger and it almost felt good. At the very least, it satisfied the drug-induced itch. When Louis leaned back over and took just the head of his cock between his lips, Mitch very nearly came again. In fact, it was the tight grip that Louis had on the base of his shaft that kept the orgasm at bay. Mitch’s vocabulary had been reduced to moan, whimper, groan and whine. Four very undignified gestures that clawed their way out of his throat whether he wanted them to or not. Like now. He wanted Louis to do more, so he whined, but Louis was doing felt so good, that he moaned.

Mitch heard Richard chuckle in his ear and whimpered, because Richard’s laughter did not necessarily mean that things were okay. "Louis, suck the boy off before he has an aneurism."

As with every request Richard had given to his friends, this one was obeyed like an order. Louis pulled his lips over his teeth and sank his mouth around Mitch’s cock until it rested just at his throat. Then he swallowed. With or without the drug, Mitch would have cum from that. The tight, convulsing heat of the back of Louis’s throat sent him far more than over the edge and he actually cried out in pleasure as he came, bucking his hips forward as best he could and driving himself onto the finger still wedged in his ass.

Despite the fact that he had cum, Louis wasn’t stopped. He sucked it down, swallowed, and fastidiously licked around Mitch’s cock, cleaning the gooey mess before taking the still throbbing erection back into his mouth and suckling it lightly. Richard moaned with him, licking his ear, but Mitch couldn’t distinguish anything other than pleasure at the moment.

Richard pulled his finger out and Mitch felt two take its place, pushing inside of him. He pulled away and felt the barest scraping of teeth against the underside of his cock. The fingers hurt, like they were tearing at his skin. Richard grunted disapprovingly and Louis gripped his hips against, forcing him to sit still.

"Tanner." Tanner didn’t look at Richard, but kept his eyes pealed where Mitch’s cock disappeared into Louis’s mouth. "Get the lubricant out of the desk drawer. I swear to god, he’s tight as a virgin."

There was a round of chuckles - even Paul, though his seemed more cynical. Mitch closed his eyes, fighting the build up of tears. He could tell Richard his age, but he was afraid of how the man would react, he could tell him that he was a virgin, but he was afraid they’d think it was more fun that way. When the fingers returned they were cold and covered in something slick, but they didn’t hurt this time. They stretched him a little too wide, perhaps, but not severely so.

"Much better." Mitch groaned as the fingers pulled out of him and pushed back in, while Louis bobbed his head up and down his overly sensitive prick. Maybe if this was all there was...

Richard pushed his fingers in deeper and crooked them, sending off electric shocks of pleasure that raced through Mitch’s body. If he’d been able to right then, he’d have come again, but apparently, he still hadn’t fully recovered from the last two. The mouth on him vibrated as Louis chuckled and then pulled up. "Think he’s ready?"

The fingers pressed into that spot again and Mitch felt his hips thrust of their own accord. Richard bit his earlobe, "Yeah, I do."

Ready for what? Louis used his grip on Mitch’s hips to pull his so that his wrists, still caught in Richard’s hand, were held just above him and his head was in Richard’s lap, the actor’s hard cock pressed against his cheek through a pair of too tight trousers. Louis looked up, "Mind if I?"

Richard smiled cordially, "Not at all. Think of it as a reward for being such a good little cock sucker."

Reward? What reward? He looked at Louis and saw him hastily undoing his zipper and pulling his cock out, not even bothering to drop his trousers fully. Not that. Despite his drug addled mind, he knew very well where this was going and he didn’t want it. It didn’t matter that it had felt kind of good so far, he didn’t want it. While Louis was busy stroking lubricant on himself, Mitch pulled one of his legs back, putting all the strength he could muster into kicking the man in the stomach. He celebrated a very small victory as the Spaniard doubled over, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach. "Little... shite."

Paul laughed from his corner, a real laugh this time. "That’s what you get for wanting to be first, Louis. Greedy little sod, you are."

Louis scowled and locked eyes with Mitch, who had pulled his legs up in a vain attempt to cover himself and was desperately trying to pry his wrists out of Richard’s grip. "I’ll show you bloody greedy."

Before Mitch even knew what was happening, Louis had grabbed his legs and yanked him back to the edge of the bed. Mitch barely had enough time to realize that he seriously regretted pissing the man off, before something warm nudged his sphincter and pushed into him, hard. If it wasn’t for the men holding him down, he would have arched off the bed entirely. As it was, he could only scream loudly as he felt something tear viciously inside of his arse.

Louis didn’t wait for him to adjust, but started to slam into him rapidly and Mitch was reduced to choking on his own screams as the pain doubled and tripled with every movement of the cock inside of him. It was a thankfully short time before Louis came, ramming himself as deep into Mitch as he could before spilling his seed. With a contented sigh, the Spaniard pulled out and pet the side of Mitch’s face, saying, "That’s a good boy," before shoving his penis back into his pants and sitting down to take up his controller again.

Richard let go of his arms and Mitch rolled over, covering his face with his hands and sobbing into them. His entire body shook with the force of it. Behind him, he felt the bed dip, but he knew it wasn’t Richard because the man’s legs were still on either side of him. He felt a hand run down the length of his spine. On instinct, he flung an arm back, intending to knock the person away, but it was caught and he looked back to see Tanner, staring at him in open lust.

"No." He didn’t know why he said it, because it wasn’t like it would matter. The redhead grinned at him and shoved his arm back around and onto the bed near his head. After a good amount of struggling, Mitch managed to dislodge his other arm, but Tanner grabbed that one as well, using it to forced Mitch onto his stomach. Tanner straddled Mitch’s legs at his knees and bent down, kissing the pale neck under him. Mitch’s face was turned towards Paul, who watched with a strained glare as Tanner let go of one of the captive arms and positioned his straining erection against Mitch’s torn and bloodied anus.

He didn’t know if he’d expected it to hurt less, he certainly hadn’t expected it to hurt more, but Tanner’s cock felt like it was ripping him apart as it pushed into him. Mitch couldn’t hold back his scream at the first penetration and although the pain only got worse from there, he managed to bite down on his lip and keep his noises to a minimal as he was fucked into the mattress.

Paul’s glare melted into lust after several conflicting minutes and Tanner chuckled behind Mitch, his voice husky with the excursion of fucking the unwilling body pinned bellow him. "Touch yourself for me, Paul."

Mitch felt like he was in some kind of dream, except that dreams weren’t supposed to hurt. But, then, who was to say that things didn’t hurt in dreams and you just didn’t remember it later. An extra hard thrust from Tanner and Mitch couldn’t hold back a sharp cry. Please, let this be a dream, let it be something he wouldn’t remember in the morning.

Paul had taken his penis out and was stroking it fast and brutally. With a detached bit of interest, Mitch wondered if it would bruise. Suddenly, Tanner pulled out of him and a relieved whimper escaped his throat. Let it be over. Anything to let it be over. But he knew it wasn’t over, in fact, he got the feeling it was only beginning.

Tanner and Richard manipulated Mitch so that he was on his hands and knees across the length of the bed, his ass extended towards Paul, who had stopped stroking himself and was staring at his penis with an offended look. While Mitch continued to look behind him in sick fascination, Tanner kissed Paul full on the mouth, drawing his attention away from his abused cock.

"Paul, love?" Paul stared at Tanner now, his large eyes were dilated and huge, his cheeks pink with lust. "Paul, I want you to fuck Mitch while I fuck you."

Paul moaned and let Tanner help him up. Mitch shifted on the bed, planning to roll off and away. He didn’t want to be fucked again, he didn’t. He wanted it to stop. Richard, however, grabbed his elbows and lifted them, holding him half off the bed and stopping him from moving away. The older man looked at him sternly, saying only, "Stay," before letting go.

Mitch closed his eyes as he felt hands gripping his hips and another cock searing into him. It felt bigger and it stretched him wider, went into him deeper. Mitch grit his teeth to keep back the pleas that were trying to break free. He wouldn’t beg them, he wouldn’t.

Suddenly, Richard gripped his jaw and made him look up at the actor, who was grinning maliciously, "You know what I want you to do?" Mitch shook his head dumbly, thinking was out of the question, the only thing he could really do right now was feel pain and humiliation. Richard tightened his grip, "I want you to open your mouth and suck my cock and you don’t want to know what’ll happen if I feel teeth."

As Richard let go of his face and started to undo his trousers, Paul stopped moving behind him and Mitch heard him grunt and Tanner moan as Paul’s hips were pressed even tighter against his arse. He opened his mouth, having decided that he really had no pride left anyway, and maybe a spot of begging was in order, because it just hurt so much. Before he could say anything, however, the blood engorged head of Richard’s cock pushed between his lips and into his mouth, muffling his would-be protests.

The thing sliding into his mouth was even more disgusting that having his arse fucked, if less painful and Mitch pushed at it with his tongue, intent on getting it out. Richard moaned at the contact and put a hand on the back of Mitch’s head, pushing it down so that the head of his cock pressed into the back of Mitch’s throat. Frantically, Mitch put his hands on Richard’s thighs, trying to push away, but that only pushed him back onto the Paul’s cock.

Richard gripped his hair and started to move his head up and down, driving into the back of his throat with every thrust. Paul seemed to take that as his cue and began to pull out, only to be forced back in as Tanner pushed forward as well. They built up something of a rhythm and Mitch felt himself being jarred back and forth between three lust-hungry men.

Then, things got worse. Paul shifted angles, just a fraction and Mitch felt his body light up, as if it were on fire. His cock stood to immediate attention and he moaned, the vibrations in his throat causing Richard to grind deeper. "Oh, god, do that again."

Whether he was talking to Paul or to Mitch, it didn’t matter, because Paul didn’t seem inclined to stop. Every time that hated, hurtful cock brushed against that spot inside him, Mitch felt himself getting closer and closer to orgasm, until Paul reached around, stroking his cock and it crashed over him. He closed his eyes, tears falling down his cheeks as pleasure ripped through him, just as flair bright as the pain.

Paul groaned as Mitch’s body tensed and he felt hot cum spilling into his raw insides. By the sounds that Tanner was making, he followed quickly. Richard shoved his cock down Mitch’s throat, holding it there while it contracted around his cock, desperate to drive out the invader and get fresh air into the lungs. Mitch was just starting to think he might be sick when Richard pulled back just enough for him to breath and shot his load down the back of the gasping throat.

They pulled out of him all at once and Mitch kept his eyes averted down, afraid to look at them, afraid that if he moved even that much he’d be sick all over the bed. He could taste the bitterness of Richard in his mouth and feel the sticky residue of Paul and Louis on his thighs and arse cheeks. It was disgusting, he’d never get clean of it, not after a hundred showers, not even if he ripped his skin off. The dirt was inside him.

A hand wrapped in his hair and a pulled him up, crushing his mouth against someone else’s. He didn’t even care who anymore. He couldn’t stop thinking that he’d gotten off on it. They’d raped him and he’d gotten off <i>three times</i>. Somehow he knew it was Richard’s tongue swirling around in his mouth, tasting the left over seed on his teeth and under his tongue. The actor pulled away after nearly a minute, taking in Mitch’s dazed, expression and swollen lips. He looked proud of himself. "That’s my boy."

It was disgusting. Mitch’s lip started to tremble. Oh, god, he was going to cry, really cry. Not just sob or weep because he was in pain, but outright cry. He could feel the hysteria building in his chest.

It was abruptly interrupted, however, when someone else grabbed his shoulders and turned him around to start kissing him. It was someone new, someone he hadn’t kissed yet. For a moment, his mind went blank, but just as quickly, he knew. It was Mickey. He wrenched his mouth away, but only got out, "No..." before Mickey grabbed the back of his head, forcing him back into the kiss. He didn’t close his eyes, afraid that something would happen while he wasn’t looking. Paul and Tanner were still in the corner of the bed, now kissing and grinding against each other, the rest of the room forgotten. Richard had scooted back, his gaze flipping between his two friends and Mitch in clear amusement.

Mickey let go of his head and looked up, catching Richard’s eye, "I want him to ride me."

Mitch tried to push him away again, "Stop! Please, let go!"

Richard frowned at that and came forward, grabbing Mitch’s forearms. Between the two of them they manhandled him to straddle the Spaniard, ignoring his protests. "I don’t... please... let me go... just please sto..." He was cut off as Mickey grabbed hips in his hands and pulled him down over his cock with a satisfied moan. It was all he could do not to scream. Again. Every tear ripped wider and rawer and he leaned on Richard, because his legs had given out.

Louis, who had put his controller down in favor of watching his brother, suddenly stood up and leaned over Richard, whispering something in his ear. Mickey was too busy using Mitch’s hips to guide his body up and down on his cock to notice. Either that, or he didn’t care. Whatever the man said made Richard frown a little and the actor caught Mitch’s eyes while he spoke, as if he were sizing him up. "Not really sure that’s such a good idea, Louis. He’s in pretty rough shape already."

"Come on, Richie, it’ll be fun and it’s not like he hasn’t done this sort of thing before. We got him from Humps for god’s sake, he’s probably been passed around the bathroom more times than he can remember."

Mitch was too scared to contradict that. He hadn’t even known the name of the club he’d been taken from. He’d gone to the strip, found a place that had good music and looked run down enough not to look too closely at his ID. Richard stared at the boy for several seconds before shrugging. He pulled Mitch forward so that he was nearly laying flat against Mickey, "Go ahead."

Louis kissed Richard on the mouth, slipping his tongue into the actor’s mouth for a second before pulling away and moving out of Mitch’s line of vision. Mitch thought he heard noise behind him, but he was too frightened to think about what the meant. Looking up at Richard with large, doe eyes, he asked, "What’s he doing?"

Richard’s only response was to tighten his hold and Mitch struggled a little, trying to see behind him, but Richard’s grip prevented it. Finally, he looked at Richard pleadingly. The dark haired man gave him what could have been a reassuring smile coming from anyone else. "Relax, Mitchell-dear, it’s almost over."

Mickey shifted under him, the cock in his arse pulling at a suddenly off angle and then there was something else pressing against his anus and nudging it open further, forcing it wider. It took him a moment to comprehend what was going on. The pain was beyond screaming, he just stared forward, eyes wide, mouth gaping for breath as he felt Louis’s cock press in next to Mickey’s, stretching him more.

It wasn’t possible. How could anyone...? But it was possible and now that he was in, Louis was moving and Mickey was moving too, in short jabs, while his brother took long strokes. Something in Mitch had the decency to be thankful the pain overrode any pleasure there might have been, because he didn’t want to cum again, but that part was overridden by the very desperate need for them to <i>stop</i>.

Breath invaded his lungs all at once and he screamed wordlessly, pulling himself towards Richard in an effort to get away from the invading cocks inside him. Even the insane actor was better than this. "Please!" He couldn’t disguise the desperation in his voice, didn’t want to. "Stop it, please!" He sobbed between words, tears pouring down his face, "Please? Please?! Oh, god!" It wasn’t helping, they weren’t stopping.

Louis stilled inside him and then pulled out, apparently spent. Richard let go of one of Mitch’s hands and stroked his head, pulling him up into a kiss while Mickey fucked him hard, finishing himself off. Afterwards, Richard kicked Tanner and Paul off the bed, telling them they could fuck just as well on the floor. He ushered Mitch under the covers and sat next to him, stroking the crying boy’s hair. "You did good, Mitchell-dear, get some rest."