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McKay in Wonderhell
folder
Stargate: SG-1 › Stargate Atlantis
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,948
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Stargate: SG-1 › Stargate Atlantis
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,948
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Stargate Atlantis, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
McKay in Wonderhell
Author's Notes: I had this idea long before the season 3 spoilers were released. This would have been an original work if those damned meddling writters hadn't stolen it with their telepathic powers (PG-rated of course). Beta wanted.
Rodney’s back hurt. That must have been what pulled him from a dreamless sleep. That, and his arms were tied to the bed. Not his bed. Shit!
Gotta be in the infirmary. I took some hallucinogenic or something, and that’s why I’m here. I don’t remember taking hallucinogens. Shit.
Rodney struggled at the bonds on his hands. He noticed that his legs were also tied to the bed. Captured. Maybe I was captured.
It was dark. He could see faint light coming from under a door in his dark room. Not the infirmary then.
He struggled harder against the bonds. This made electric bolds of pain shoot up his left leg. What was wrong with his leg?
He heard footsteps echoing outside the door. Someone was coming.
He also heard rustling movement come from the left side of the room. There was someone already in the room with him. The other person in the room seemed to be in a bed and was pulling blankets over his or her head.
The door opened, flooding the room with light. Rodney swallowed.
The door closed, and Rodney had missed the opportunity to see the face of the person who had just entered the room. He could hear hard breathing.
Rodney was frozen with terror. He tried franticly to decide whether or not to fight against the intruder or to fane sleep. He felt a hand releasing his throbbing left leg and then the right.
“I know you’re awake.”
Rodney knew that accent. The face was clear in his mind’s eye, but he had no idea who the man was. He bit his lip and tried to calm his breathing. He felt the hands glide over his legs and up to his waist. Rodney’s stomach was instantly churning.
The hands pulled at his pants and undergarments.
Rodney cried out and tried to kick the man who was stripping his lower torso. “No, stop!” Unexpectedly, the man thwarted Rodney’s assault. Why were his legs so weak? “Please, help me!” he pleaded to the person in the other bed. Surely they knew what was about to happen. Why were they just laying there?!
Rodney couldn’t stop the man from settling on the bed between his legs. He heard a zipper and the man’s pants being pushed down. “No! No! No! No!”
Fingernails dug deeply into the center of Rodney’s palms as he steeled himself against the feeling of a blunt penis forcing itself within his body. Nonononononono! He continued to try to use his legs to force the stronger man away from him, but that only made his left leg hurt even more.
Blind panic overwhelmed him. The man was moving fast. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. It burned, his flesh was tearing! Oh God, make it stop. Pleasepleaseplease!!!! “Stop, oh for fuck’s sake, STOP!” This couldn’t be happening! This couldn’t be happening! Mommy!!
The thrusts turned more violent. The man pulled Rodney’s thighs even higher to allow for deeper penetration. He could feel the fingernails digging into his skin. He moaned and screamed.
The man was gasping above him. His trusts became short deep jabs. Rodney could feel the semen squirting inside his body. The man collapsed on top of him. The entire event only took two minutes and an entire eternity.
He could smell his scent. Like a box of cotton swabs, rubber gloves, and sex. The man rested his heavy weight on Rodney for a few more seconds.
Rodney was covered in a sheen of cold sweat and he felt very close to vomiting all over the bastard above him. He was already experiencing the pre-vomit, bile burps.
He pulled away as he felt the man grasp his ankles, but the man held him fast. He put the thin pants and undergarments on his legs and pulled them up to his waist once again. His ankles were shackled to the bed as well.
Before the man left, he grasped Rodney’s groin for one last chance to humiliate him.
Rodney threw-up all over his own left shoulder. Twice. He could do nothing about the smell or taste in his mouth. He cried until he passed out.
A not so gentle hand woke Rodney. The bright light in the room gave him a headache. He moaned.
“Good morning, Mr. McKay. Time to wake up.” It was a woman. That was good.
He felt her un-strap his arms and legs. A wet cloth wiped the crusty vomit from his check and mouth. His head was spinning. He hurt. He wanted to tell the woman that he was hurting, but he could barely open his eyes or say anything more than mumbles.
“Com’on. We’re gonna get you to the infirmary. Sit-up for me now.” She pulled at his arms and got him to sit-up with ease. It hurt.
“Let’s get you into your chair.” He tried to move off of the bed, but the woman ended up lifting his entire weight and set him in a wheel chair. He could hardly move. He couldn’t tell her that it hurt to sit.
He kept his eyes closed as she pushed his wheel chair down halls and through rooms. He heard voices. He could feel sunlight on his skin. She stopped in a quiet room. He felt her and a man lift him onto a new bed.
“I want blood drawn. I’d say that his body isn’t handling the proscribed level of anti-psychotics we’ve given him.” The man’s voice was calm and soothing.
“I’ll get him out of these cloths and into a gown,” said the woman. He began to cry as she pulled off his shirt and then his pants. He heard her gasp as she discovered the source of his agony.
Rodney’s back hurt. That must have been what pulled him from a dreamless sleep. That, and his arms were tied to the bed. Not his bed. Shit!
Gotta be in the infirmary. I took some hallucinogenic or something, and that’s why I’m here. I don’t remember taking hallucinogens. Shit.
Rodney struggled at the bonds on his hands. He noticed that his legs were also tied to the bed. Captured. Maybe I was captured.
It was dark. He could see faint light coming from under a door in his dark room. Not the infirmary then.
He struggled harder against the bonds. This made electric bolds of pain shoot up his left leg. What was wrong with his leg?
He heard footsteps echoing outside the door. Someone was coming.
He also heard rustling movement come from the left side of the room. There was someone already in the room with him. The other person in the room seemed to be in a bed and was pulling blankets over his or her head.
The door opened, flooding the room with light. Rodney swallowed.
The door closed, and Rodney had missed the opportunity to see the face of the person who had just entered the room. He could hear hard breathing.
Rodney was frozen with terror. He tried franticly to decide whether or not to fight against the intruder or to fane sleep. He felt a hand releasing his throbbing left leg and then the right.
“I know you’re awake.”
Rodney knew that accent. The face was clear in his mind’s eye, but he had no idea who the man was. He bit his lip and tried to calm his breathing. He felt the hands glide over his legs and up to his waist. Rodney’s stomach was instantly churning.
The hands pulled at his pants and undergarments.
Rodney cried out and tried to kick the man who was stripping his lower torso. “No, stop!” Unexpectedly, the man thwarted Rodney’s assault. Why were his legs so weak? “Please, help me!” he pleaded to the person in the other bed. Surely they knew what was about to happen. Why were they just laying there?!
Rodney couldn’t stop the man from settling on the bed between his legs. He heard a zipper and the man’s pants being pushed down. “No! No! No! No!”
Fingernails dug deeply into the center of Rodney’s palms as he steeled himself against the feeling of a blunt penis forcing itself within his body. Nonononononono! He continued to try to use his legs to force the stronger man away from him, but that only made his left leg hurt even more.
Blind panic overwhelmed him. The man was moving fast. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. It burned, his flesh was tearing! Oh God, make it stop. Pleasepleaseplease!!!! “Stop, oh for fuck’s sake, STOP!” This couldn’t be happening! This couldn’t be happening! Mommy!!
The thrusts turned more violent. The man pulled Rodney’s thighs even higher to allow for deeper penetration. He could feel the fingernails digging into his skin. He moaned and screamed.
The man was gasping above him. His trusts became short deep jabs. Rodney could feel the semen squirting inside his body. The man collapsed on top of him. The entire event only took two minutes and an entire eternity.
He could smell his scent. Like a box of cotton swabs, rubber gloves, and sex. The man rested his heavy weight on Rodney for a few more seconds.
Rodney was covered in a sheen of cold sweat and he felt very close to vomiting all over the bastard above him. He was already experiencing the pre-vomit, bile burps.
He pulled away as he felt the man grasp his ankles, but the man held him fast. He put the thin pants and undergarments on his legs and pulled them up to his waist once again. His ankles were shackled to the bed as well.
Before the man left, he grasped Rodney’s groin for one last chance to humiliate him.
Rodney threw-up all over his own left shoulder. Twice. He could do nothing about the smell or taste in his mouth. He cried until he passed out.
A not so gentle hand woke Rodney. The bright light in the room gave him a headache. He moaned.
“Good morning, Mr. McKay. Time to wake up.” It was a woman. That was good.
He felt her un-strap his arms and legs. A wet cloth wiped the crusty vomit from his check and mouth. His head was spinning. He hurt. He wanted to tell the woman that he was hurting, but he could barely open his eyes or say anything more than mumbles.
“Com’on. We’re gonna get you to the infirmary. Sit-up for me now.” She pulled at his arms and got him to sit-up with ease. It hurt.
“Let’s get you into your chair.” He tried to move off of the bed, but the woman ended up lifting his entire weight and set him in a wheel chair. He could hardly move. He couldn’t tell her that it hurt to sit.
He kept his eyes closed as she pushed his wheel chair down halls and through rooms. He heard voices. He could feel sunlight on his skin. She stopped in a quiet room. He felt her and a man lift him onto a new bed.
“I want blood drawn. I’d say that his body isn’t handling the proscribed level of anti-psychotics we’ve given him.” The man’s voice was calm and soothing.
“I’ll get him out of these cloths and into a gown,” said the woman. He began to cry as she pulled off his shirt and then his pants. He heard her gasp as she discovered the source of his agony.