[TIER 10] IATL: Chapter 7 (part 2) (Patreon)

Warning for rape and violence. Please proceed with caution.

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"Aww, shit. You made a fucking mess, kid!" John groans, looking down at his lap, bile and drool pooling around his groin. "Pass me that rag over there."

Coughing violently, Gabriel snatches up the cloth John pointed and starts cleaning the mess he had made. John had been rough, pushing his head down onto his cock forcefully until he choked, unable to stop the vomit from spilling out. With trembling hands, he wipes John clean, the pungent smell of vomit thick in the air. John rolls down the window, letting in some fresh air.

"Damn kid, and I thought you're a professional," John grumbles, disgusted. "If you think I'm paying for this crappy job, you got another thing coming. I didn't even come!"

"Sorry," he rasps out. His throat hurts and jaws aches, eyes watering. He cleans the mess up as best as he can, still shaking all over.

"Ah fuck... Here's a ten." John throws two five dollar bills at his face. "Now, get the hell out of my truck."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He grabs the money and lets himself out, legs wobbly as he hits the ground. The engine of the truck roars beside him and he stumbles out of the way. He watches as the truck thundered down the road, leaving him behind in a cloud of dust. Stuffing the dollar bills into his jeans pocket, he walks back to his previous spot.

The next hours passed in the same manner. He had given a total of five blowjobs after John. His knees are burning from the number of times he was shoved down roughly onto the hard pavement. Three of the johns had pushed him down where he stood and fucked his face, uncaring when one or more passersby had stopped to watch. The other two had taken him back to their truck and took their sweet time using his mouth. One took so long that by the time he came, his jaw was aching from having his mouth stretched open for so long.

He's lucky that he'd only been asked to give blowjobs. He isn't sure he'll be able to say no if they had wanted to fuck him. He knows it's stupid to since he's still sore. But the pain would have been a welcome relief. His stomach rumbles and he looks up at the sky. He doesn't have a watch, but he thinks it's about time he gets back. The sky's getting dark.

Passing by the deli, he makes a quick stop inside to grab a sandwich. His mouth tastes like strawberries from the flavored condom he'd used. He should probably wash out his mouth before eating.

The door to the deli jingles as he exits. He walks towards the restroom, pushing the door open and enters. Placing his sandwich beside the sink, he splashes water on his face and gurgles. He hears the door to the restroom open but doesn't pay it any mind. When he's done, he turns off the tap and stares at his reflection.

He startles at the sight of five burly looking men in the room with him. The way they're staring at him stir an uneasy feeling inside him. He averts eye contact and takes his sandwich. Feeling unnerved, his pulse quickening, he turns around intending to ignore the men and make his quiet exit. As he approaches the door though, two of them block his way. Unable to proceed further, he stops and takes a step back as he tries hard to stay calm.

"Can I help you?" he asks, glad to see that his voice remains steady despite the erratic heartbeats against his chest.

The two men smirk. Then, they step aside as another man, a black man around 6'1 with broad shoulders and a muscular body and a cropped haircut steps forward between them. "I'll say. Saw you on your knees with your mouth stuffed earlier. Been itching something bad ever since. Then, guess who I saw walking into the deli?" He spreads his arms wide. "I guess it's meant to be."

Gabriel doesn't answer, his heart pounding in his throat. For some reason, these men scare him. "I'm actually done for the day. I'm expected back. I'm sorry," he stutters out as he tries to bypass the man. He manages to brush past the man when he grabs hold of his arm and slams him hard onto the wall beside the door. The man leers down at him, dark brown almost black eyes staring down at his lips. He shoves a thumb into Gabriel's mouth, forcing them open.

"You're done when I say you're done." Then he backhanded him. Gabriel's cheek stings as his head snaps to the side. The man turns toward his friends who have all gathered around him to watch, eyes gleaming with excitement. "You two, stand guard outside." They both look like they're about to protest when he adds, "You'll get your turn. Don't worry." The panic that was slowly setting in erupts.

"Don't make me wait too long, Gordon." One of them grumbles.

They shove pass the others and disappear behind the door. Gabriel watches them go, panicking, his eyes darting around searching for a way to escape. He's still bracketed against the wall by Gordon's body. Something shiny catches his eyes. He freezes. Sticking out the side of Gordon's body, holstered in its place is a gun. His eyes fly to the others, unable to stop his fear from skyrocketing when he spotted more guns.

"Are you cops?" he murmurs, voice shaky.

"What did you say, baby?" Gordon turns around to face him, eyes unnaturally wide. He has this crazy look about him, twitchy and manic. His pupils are dilated and the redness of his eyes make him look rabid, strung out. Gabriel had seen this look before, on some of the prostitutes he worked with. The man is definitely high out of his mind. Gordon glances down at where Gabriel is staring at and grins. "I'm sorry to break it to you angel, but we're as far from cops as can be," he taunts in a singsong voice.

Gangbanger then. His knees start to feel weak. "Please don't hurt me. I'll do anything you want, just don't hurt me."

"Now why would we want that? We like it when the little bitch cries," he sneers. Without warning, Gordon punches him in the gut. Gabriel bends over clutching his stomach as he gasps for air. His legs buckle and he falls to his knees, pain tearing up his side.

When he feels someone yanks his hair, he chokes out, desperate. "Please, I'm one of Lucas." Gordon crouches down in front of him, hand still gripping tight in his hair, pulling at his scalp. It hurts and his eyes start to water from the pain.

"That's supposed to mean something to me, bitch?" he growls before spitting in his face and moves to stand back up, dragging Gabriel along with him.

Realizing he's fucked, Gabriel screams. "Help! Somebody, please! Help me!" The punch comes out of nowhere, and sends him sprawling onto the tiled floor, groaning in pain.

A set of boots appear in his field of vision. Fearing that he's going to get kicked in the face, he lifts his hands to shield himself. Then, he hears laughter. Before he knows it, he's forced onto his back and Gordon's climbing on top of him, straddling his thighs. He is rough and relentless. The strength with which he used to rip open his jeans causes his hips to lift with the force of it, the fabric cutting into his skin. The buttons pop and his tailbone hits the floor hard. His jeans are torn, exposing his boxers.

"Please..." he tries again before a slap rings across his face. Then, another backhand. His cheeks burn and he stares up at the giant of a man on top of him, tears threatening to fall.

"Did I say you could talk?" Gordon asks in a low, menacing voice, leaning low to breathe in his face. He shakes his head. "Good." Gordon then flips Gabriel onto his stomach and pulls down his jeans and boxers down in one go.

Terror rises in his throat. He's scared. He has never been in a situation like this before. Sure, he's had clients that liked to be rough, but that's all part of the play, the scene. He knew he was safe. And when he was working a corner, his clients mostly consisted of lonely men looking for a warm willing hole to fuck. Gabriel was never threatened physically before. Violence is something new to him. And it terrifies him. These men want to hurt him. They have guns.

His reflexes kick in. He starts to struggle, trying to crawl away from beneath Gordon, kicking blindly. His feet hit something solid and he hears an oof behind him. The weight holding him down disappears. Pushing himself to his arms and knees, he makes a run for it. But before he's anywhere close to the door, someone tackles him around the middle and they land in a heap on the floor. Gabriel falls on his stomach, struggling against the weight on top of him. The body lifts itself but before he's able to scramble up, someone stamps on his back and his chin hits the floor with a loud crack.

"Oh, you're going to regret doing that bitch!" Gordon growls. Somewhere behind him, someone is shoving his jeans down again. He lashes out. "Fucking hold him down!" Gordon barks. A weight settles on the top of his neck as someone places their knees on top of his arms, effectively cutting off his upper body movement. Someone moves to sit on his upper thighs as another rips his jeans and boxers off his feet roughly, causing him to lose a shoe in the process.

"You're a whore, bitch. Why the fuck are you even struggling?" Gordon spreads his asscheeks wide and laughs. "Take a look at this bitch's fuckhole. Fucking bitch must have been taking cocks up his ass the whole day. Angel," he coos, "You may look all innocent on the outside, but your hole definitely tells a different story. Damn, if that's isn't a whore's hole." Gordon kneads at his asscheeks, spitting at his hole. He squirms, unable to move, face planting on the cold tile floor. "How many ass pounding did you take today, kid?"

Gabriel doesn't answer. Instead, he goes limp. The others laugh as Gordon continues to humiliate him. Someone pokes at his sore side with their boots. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes. It'll be over soon. It's not like this is new. You can take this, he tells himself. When Gabriel hears the telltale clink of a belt buckle being undone, he snaps his head up.

"Wait! Please, not like this. We need lube! I have condoms in my pocket, just please. I'm not ready yet, please-" His words are cut off when he feels the blunt head of a cock at his entrance. Then, a scream forces its way out his throat as Gordon tears into him. His fingers curl into fists as inches by inches the cock sinks into him. His ass ached as tears streamed down his cheek, pooling on the tile floor.

When Gordon's fully seated in him, he begins to thrust. Every push and pull of Gordon's cock in and out of him sent jolts of pain up his spine. His channel is dry and raw and he can feel every drag of skin against skin. He wonders how this can be pleasurable for Gordon. It has to be painful for him as well. He doesn't have time to dwell on it though, because then Gordon's thrusts become smoother and slicker. He had torn something inside him.

It feels like hours but could be mere minutes before Gordon is grunting with his orgasm, pumping his seed deep inside him. The hot liquid sparks more pain within him. When Gordon pulls out, a trickle of blood and come leaks out of his wrecked hole, dripping between his asscheeks and down his balls. All Gabriel can do is lie on the floor, trembling and shaking in a state of shock. He jolts when he feels another cock breaches him and chokes back a cry.

When the man is done, the man who has been sitting on his neck replaces him. Not that it matters. His struggles had died down sometime around the second person. His body is taut with pain, muscles clenching as he tries to tune out the pain. Every one of them took their turn, even the two men outside. By then, he's just a limp heap sprawled on the floor. Throughout it all, they never stop berating him, humiliating him. Mocking him with their words until that's all he hears. A string of insults and abuses.

"How do you like my big fat cock stretching you wide, bitch?"

"Yeah fuck that hole man, look how it's gaping begging for more!"

"Slap that perky ass. Make it glow red!"

"Look how sloppy the little bitch is. We wrecked that hole!"

"Turn him around. I want to see the bitch face as I fuck into him."

The fifth man moans his release and then rough hands are manhandling him onto his back. Gabriel squints into the glare of the fluorescent lights from the ceiling. A man he recognizes as the one blocking his path earlier wraps his arms under his thighs and drags his ass onto his lap, shoving his cock inside him with one thrust. Without missing a beat, he starts up a brutal pace, hard fast strokes that jarred his body with each thrust. His head lolls, hair matted against his forehead. It's then that he realizes the men in the room all have their phones out, directed at him. Some are aimed at his face, some at where he is connected to the man grunting above him.

The flashes blind him. Disoriented, he closes his eyes and turns his head away. One of the men starts pinching his nipples. Holding the buds tight, he squeezes and twists them hard. Gasping in pain, Gabriel hunches in on himself, writhing and twisting as he tries to escape the torture. He gets punched in the face for his efforts, biting the inside of his cheek upon impact. Blood pools in his mouth.

With a soft grunt, the man inside him pulls out. He straightens on his knees, flicking his hair out of his eyes as he exhales audibly. Unable to move, Gabriel lies motionless on the floor, legs spread as blood and come steadily leaking out of him onto the tiled floor. Ugly looking bruises start to form on his face and body.

Just when he thinks it's over, Gordon pulls him up by his hair and slams him against the sink. His hipbones bang hard into the stretch of concrete there. Red hot pain shoots up from the point of contact, running up his spine and he gasps momentarily blinded by pain. Gordon yanks his head back and smashes his face onto the tap. His nose shatters on impact, blood splattering the area. All he sees is red as his vision slides in and out of focus. Blood pours out of his nose and down his nostrils, clogging his airways and he chokes as he struggles to breathe.

Gordon drags his head back up. Gabriel could see himself in the mirror above the sink and he almost flinched away by what he saw. It's hard to recognize the person staring back at him. One of his eyes is swollen shut, ugly bruises littering one side of his face as blood spurts from his nose and drips from his mouth. His chest is heaving as he gasps for air, coughing and spluttering as Gordon wraps one arm around his waist.

"This is a beautiful look on you, is it not, whore?" Gordon whispers into his ear. "I like it a lot." Gordon lets go of his grip on his hair and Gabriel sags forward. But before he could fall, Gordon slides his hand up his chest, supporting him. With his free hand, he grabs hold of his thigh and lifts it over the edge of the sink. Gabriel whimpers as the move pulls at his injured body. Without hesitation, Gordan shoves himself inside Gabriel once again, fucking slow and deliberate.

He kisses down Gabriel's neck, staring intently at his reflection. Bloodshot eyes stare back at him. "You hurt so pretty, angel. Cry for me," Gordon murmurs into his neck before biting down hard enough to break skin. Gabriel cries out, fresh tears stinging his eyes. "Oh yeah, like that. You're making me so hard, baby. Lucky you're so loose now huh, or I might actually tear you apart." Snickering, he adds, "Oops, I already did."

As Gordon continues to pound into him from behind, his vision starts to blur. He feels lightheaded. Gabriel blinks, trying to clear the fog. But he feels himself slipping away. He's losing too much blood. His body feels weak and he's so tired. He just wants to close his eyes. He thinks maybe he's dying. Weirdly enough, the prospect doesn't scare him. In fact, he welcomes it. So he lets go.

---

The front door opens, and Chase snaps his head towards it so fast, he thinks he might have whiplash. When he sees Lucas walking in, he pretends to be captivated by the Monopoly battle in front of him, just in case Gabriel is following behind. But when Lucas closes the door, and Gabriel is nowhere in sight, he frowns.

"Lucas," he calls before Lucas can stride down the hall to his office. The man pauses in his steps, giving Chase an impatient look. "Isn't Gabe with you? I can't seem to find him anywhere. Where is he?"

"He's working."

"Working? I thought he's only going to Chastity's tonight?" he exclaims, shocked.

"He requested it, so I said he could. Now please stop bothering me with your questions. I have work to do."

Angry and worried, he snaps. "Where?"

Lucas sighs, looking testy. "He's at the truck stop. He'll be home by seven. Now that I seem to have answered all your questions, can I go now?" he asks sarcastically. "Don't bother answering that. It's rhetorical." With that, Lucas exits the living room, leaving him to stew in his own thoughts.

What is Gabriel doing? What the hell is he thinking? What the actual fuck is running through that stupid brain of his? Goddammit. He knew it! He knew Gabriel would do something dumb like this. God, the guy can be so stupid sometimes, his self-esteem almost nonexistent. How could he think so little of himself? Making his mind up, he stands.

"Sammie, I'm going out for a while. If you need anything or if anything happens, find Anna. You'll be alright by yourself in the meantime?"

Sam looks up from where he's sitting on the floor and nods. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find Gabe." He runs a hand through his hair. "I won't be long. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay?" He plants a kiss on Sam's forehead. "I'll be back soon, buddy. And you can tell me all about your defeat," he adds, giving Amelia a wink.

"Hey! I'm not losing!" Sam pouts. "Not yet anyway. Don't jinx it, Chase." He ruffles Sam's head, avoids his swat and rushes out the door, grabbing his jacket on the way.

Right. Now, to find Gabriel. And make him listen.