The Incomprehensible Corruption of Innocence

A REMOTE SHACK SOMEWHERE IN THE EVERGLADES

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Ryan wept. He couldn’t help it, or stop himself this time. He was in agony, and finally, after three weeks, the pain, the absolute hopelessness and helplessness of his situation had finally taken over.

In fact, he reflected as he looked up at the ceiling, he’d actually been in agony since he’d woken up after being kidnapped that first day, and found himself bound, wrists and ankles, with thick rope to a sturdy wooden framed bed, lying on a lumpy, hard, and slightly dirty, mattress.


He’d lain there a few moments, as he got his headache that no doubt was due to being bashed in the head by the weapon during the get-a-way, under control, and mentally replayed the events he remembered. He cracked open his eyes and gazed around the room he was in, and really wasn’t impressed. Not only was the mattress seriously offensive to his cleaning OCD, the rest of the room didn’t hold much promise either.

Dirty clothes and bedcovers were on the floor, the walls were wooden, and in the corners, he saw that rodents had chewed their way through the walls. Bugs crawled over the woodwork, and faded, mildewed, and torn posters covered the walls. There was no window in the room he was in, and the only light in the room came from a dim bulb in the ceiling that looked like it had been installed by a drunken person with delusions of being an electrician.

Ryan suddenly shivered, and knew that the self-same man who’d kidnapped him, was doubtless the one who had built what he was assuming, from his limited visual capabilities, was a shack.

He inhaled sharply as he remembered the long, lazy lick the man had placed on his neck, and the disgusting pleasure he’d taken in humiliating Ryan in front of the others. Ryan knew, beyond any doubt, that he was in a really, really bad position, and probably wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise. And with that thought, he opened his eyes all the way, and started when a face filled his vision.

“Well, you’re finally awake,” the psycho grinned down at Ryan, and the CSI swallowed, even as he tried to hide his fear.

“You can’t do it. You can’t hide your fear. You’re not that good,” the psycho grinned. “So you might as well not even try. You, my beauty, are an open book,” he reached out and stroked Ryan’s face, and Ryan turned his head away.

“You’re going to learn not to do that,” the man said pleasantly, though a moment later, cracked Ryan across the face. “You’re mine for as long as I want you, and if you want to live, I suggest you just, as they say, ‘go with the flow’.” He stood up and undressed. Ryan tried to control himself, tried desperately not to show any emotion, but as he saw the condom that the other man already wore, his eyes widened, and the psycho laughed, even as he stood, completely naked, over Ryan.

“I’m going to have you, Wolfe,” he said. “But I don’t know where you’ve been, so protection is definitely required.” He shook his somewhat large member at Ryan, and he couldn’t help but try and draw away from the man, who smiled slightly, obviously amused by Ryan’s continued attempts to escape his fate.

“Do you know,” he said conversationally, as he picked up a knife from the floor. “That in some people, fear is considered an aphrodisiac? It has to do with the rising body temperature, which sends out pheromones. Quite fascinating, really,” he held the knife to Ryan’s throat, and the point dug into his skin, drawing a bead of blood.

Ryan couldn’t stop the sharp inhale of breath, and once more tried to pull away, which only succeeded in getting his throat scored.

“Now look at that,” the psycho hissed, and bent low over Ryan. “You made me cut you,” he placed his mouth over the cut, and Ryan cried out as the man sucked brutally on his skin, and drew out more blood.

“Oh!” he grinned as he pulled back, his mouth bloody. “You taste incredible! I’m so going to enjoy this!” With the point of the knife, he sliced through Ryan’s shirt sleeves, and Ryan’s eyes, as impossible as it seemed, widened even further as the man made his way down Ryan’s body with the knife.

Ryan shuddered, he couldn’t help it, as every picture of every person whom he’d ever interviewed who had been raped flashed through his mind, and he tried to come to terms with the fact that the unthinkable was actually going to happen to him and there was nothing he could do about it.

“You’re going to rot in hell for this,” Ryan finally hissed, even as the man ran his hands over Ryan’s exposed flesh. “My friends are cops. They’ll find me.”

“But then it’ll be too late, won’t it?” The psycho grinned, and moved down to Ryan’s bound ankles, and he sliced up one leg of Ryan’s jeans. “Besides, I hardly doubt they’ll find much to go on. We’re very thorough,” he cut up the other leg, and then he joined the two cuts and sliced upward, through Ryan’s waistband. He put the knife down, and ripped the tattered clothes from Ryan’s body, which prompted a stifled gasp of fear, and his hands clenched into fists.

“We’re out in the middle of nowhere . . .” the psycho’s grin widened and he lowered his head until he was a mere inch from Ryan’s face. “And your life depends on my satisfaction.” The psycho placed his knee on the mattress, his hands on either side of Ryan’s body. “You might as well face it, you’re mine and there’s nothing and nobody who can change that,” he brutally covered Ryan’s mouth with his, and shoved his tongue almost down Ryan’s throat.

Ryan struggled, to get away, but there was nothing that could be done, and when the psycho got tired of assaulting Ryan’s mouth and his chest, he straddled Ryan’s shaking body, and forced Ryan’s legs open. He lifted Ryan’s buttocks off the bed, and exposed Ryan to him. He looked upward, and into Ryan’s terrified eyes, and leisurely ran his gaze over Ryan’s bruised, swollen, and bloody lips, and then down Ryan’s tense, trembling body, and laughed, obviously delighted with what he saw.

“Man, you’re beautiful!” He laughed wildly, and without any warning, gripped Ryan’s hips in fingers that bruised, and viciously shoved his penis into Ryan’s completely unprepared body.

Ryan’s entire body arched upward as agony ripped through him, and he couldn’t stop the scream that left him . . . or the one after that . . . or the one after that, as the man pumped in and out of him. Finally, after what seemed to Ryan hours, the psycho finally came.

Suddenly, the door to the bedroom was thrown open, and the other two robbers burst into the room. “What the hell are you doing!?” One of the men demanded, and the other scowled.

“Yeah, man, I though you said you weren’t gonna’ touch him!”

Ryan looked at them through his pain and the tears he hadn’t been able to stop, and his entire body trembled. “Help me,” he tried to make his mouth say, but nothing left his throat, and all hope died at the men’s next words.

“At least until we’d gotten back from dumping the car!” The second man finished his thought, and the first one snorted.

“Thought you said we were all going to get a chance to do the pig! Should have known you wouldn’t be able to wait.”

“Oh, I know,” the psycho grinned. “But as you said, I just couldn’t wait. “He’s got a sweet ass, and it’s tight. I believe our little cop friend here was a virgin.”

“Then it’s our civic duty to teach him what he needs to know,” the first henchman actually trembled with excitement, and the psycho frowned.

“He would do quite well with us here, but one thing he does need to do is learn some manners.” he said, and the second one shrugged.

“We’ve broken stronger men than him in prison.”

“So, we’re agreed then,” the psycho nodded, thoughtfully. “I guess we can keep him around a little longer than originally planned, then.”

“Yeah, we’ve needed a new bitch for a while now anyway,” the third man licked his lips. “And at least this one’s a looker.”

With that, Ryan let the pain as well as the complete hopelessness of his situation, fill him, and he lost consciousness.