a/n: My birthday is next month :D Oh noes, am I lazy. :3 I'll make the next chapter long. Or I'll try to

Uber short chapter alert ;D

6

He was filled with scars, bruises, bites and puncture wounds. The needles weren't the only thing that had made him squirm in place. Which made him contemplate any and no hope of being let out of this place. Not because he wouldn't be let go. But because he knew he had been here for almost a week or two…or even three; and he didn't have a clue what was going on. He wanted nothing more than to know who took him, why they took him, and if someone would ever come bursting through the door to save him like in comics he had read in his spare time.

The only sounds Ben was getting use to were the boots of his captor that clicked against the stone or marble whenever he would walk around. Now he just hated the sound. Because here he came again, his voice becoming existent, while Ben's faded quickly over the humming of the strange equipment and lights of the room.

"Hold him down!"

The man was quick to speak, quick to move across the ground and quick to stick another needle in the brunets arm to make him squirm. This was the kind of torture lunatics got off of. Watching their captive's eyes turning to a hazy green, blurry, watery. He wasn't blindfolded anymore, but he was just too dizzy to see what was going on. To see whom his capture had been.

As he laid on the floor. Men to either side of his legs. Holding them opened. And down. To hid advantage, the lights were left on. But to his disadvantage, the man had grabbed a large item, stretching it over to keep Ben's legs apart. Making him completely open to any one.

Another light was flickered on, than another. Bright lights like on a studio flooring–of a film. It blinded him still. Ben could only see the shadows of the men. The one in boots making advances towards him, hands trailing against the boys knee. He fidgeted already, not wanting to be touched, not liking the feeling. Even on drugs.

"Turn on the camera!" Another demand as the men who were once to either side of Ben, moved above his head, to keep his hands from fighting. "Don't film his face, Levin already knows."

It was that one quick movement that made Ben scream, suddenly feeling something probe at his entrance. He felt the blood, run down his legs, and a hand cover his mouth as he realized what was happening. He had penetrated Ben's defenses.

His screams and pleads were muffled as he continued feel the man thrusting. It hurt him completely and utterly hurt him. Causing him pain in places never sought possible. The drugs weren't any anesthesia. Maybe just a cheap phosphodiesterase inhibitor, mixed with something to fuck him over.

He was turned over, the band on his legs pulled off; face being pulled into his captors cock. The other two who originally held his arms were at his back side, one pushing into him, the other touching in even more intimate parts–ones that Kevin had only ever really seen or tried to even touch.

Shifting, he struggled again, being pulled at by the hair as another needle dove for his neck.