Poor Simon Ch. 09

I cried out as Hanson hauled back and hit me. He put all of his strength in a volley of vicious blows to my bruised buttocks and back and face. When he was done I was dazed and weak from the remnants of the drugs and his beating.

Then I realized what he would do and I squirmed harder, but I was in such a vulnerable position that all I could do was fall down onto my side. He lifted me back up. I saw his thick angry cock slick with some kind of lubricant out of the corner of my eye and I struggled as hard as I could, trying to rip my hands from the duct tape.

It was no use. His cock was suddenly pressing firmly against my tight little pucker.

"No you fucker!!" I screamed. "No you dumb fuck GET AWAY!!"

I rolled over until I hit the seats and I squirmed, trying to writhe away. My knees and arms were chafing on the carpets and I was breathing like a racehorse. Suddenly the Doctor was there too and his long spidery hands were on me and that made me shriek. I shrieked in panic and rage and fear and hatred.

The Doctor held me down. Held my upper body still with his ghastly hands. Then Hanson grabbed my hips and I started sobbing when he started forcing his cock in.

It burned. It hurt so badly.

It felt like someone was trying to shove a metal pole up my ass; a light post, or a stop sign. Only it was hot. His cock was hot and wet and repulsive. It was like some slimy brainless animal; dumb and mean and wanting only to hurt.

I sobbed and moaned and sometimes burst into useless screams as Hanson forced me. Hanson took my virginity away.

When he was snarling and grunting about how tight I was, I got a second burst of energy, a wave of pure revulsion. I bucked wildly, throwing them both off. I squirmed under a mini-bar ledge and I wouldn't move. I wedged myself under there, moaning and crying and my ass, feeling like someone had rubbed the inside with a file until I bled. Blood was running in little trickles down my thighs, for Hanson had barely lubricated his thick ugly cock.

They tried to get me out, but I snarled and bit at their hands like an animal. The suffering made me wild. They lashed the exposed bits of my body with the buckled ends of their belts, even my face. I shrieked with the pain and threw off their hands.

After ten minutes of vicious fighting I had worn myself out again and they managed to drag me out, Hanson nursing a bleeding bite on his hand. Hanson heaved powerful kicks at my body, and at that point consciousness was no longer firmly in my grasp. With every kick, my grip on the waking world loosened.

He finished, and I was too far gone to scream or struggle. I could only weep tiredly as he knelt and forced his cock into my bleeding ass again. He pistoned me, and mashed me, and bruised me and broke me. His cock heaved in and out of me, a monster.

He came in my ass. Even after nearly losing consciousness, and even with all of the blood and lubricant in my ass I could still fell those God-awful spurts of his hot come.

My body went limp, and I cried brokenly. I cried with pain and with shame and fear. Over and over in my head, like a mantra, I could hear myself chanting. 'I thought I had three more months, I thought I had three more months; I thought I had three more fucking months'.

We had felt so safe, but we hadn't had any time at all.

I was too weak to do anything but groan as the Doctor mounted me. He was a lot smaller, but he was worse. He hooked his hands into claws and tormented any part of me he could reach. He bucked his hips wildly to slam his cock against the bruised walls of my rectum. He viciously tried to hurt.

How hell could have been worse then that plane, I had no idea.