Tokio Hotel: Sex, Lies, & Videotape 4/??
Title: Sex, Lies, & Videotape: Chapter 4/20(ish) - Nightmares
Genre: Slash
Characters: Andreas, Bill Kaulitz, David Jost, Georg Listing, Gustav Schafer, OMC, Simone Trumper, Tom Kaulitz
Pairing: Bill/Tom, Bill/OMC, Bill/Andi, Tom/OMC
Rating: NC17
Category: AU, Angst, Drama, Twincest
Words (in chapter): 4039
Warning: Abuse, Adult Content, Bondage, Cross Dressing, Heavy Kink, Humiliation, Incest, Minor Character Death, Non-Con/Rape, Pedophilia, Uder-Age Erotica, Violence, WIP
Summary: Simone receives mysterious videotapes in the mail of her twins. How will the family deal with the content of the tapes, and will they all survive the aftermath?
Note: By far my darkest fic EVER. This story stemmed from one lyric in the song Liar, Liar by The Used. I've never written anything with this type of content before.
Tom awoke with a start, sitting straight up in his bed. He gazed around the room. The pale moonlight shadowing throughout, leaving some spaces darker than others. Why had he woken up? It was quiet in the house; it was three am, of course it would be quiet. Then he realized his brother was awake, lying as still as possible in his dark space of their shared bedroom. Tom stared at the other bed, which he knew contained Bill, but he couldn’t see anything through the illusions of the shadows. It was too dark on that side of the room and the more he stared, the more confused an image he received. He thought he saw the blanket move, but it could have been a trick of the glowing rays of silver. Lifting his own covers off his lap, he climbed from the bed and padded quietly towards his brother’s bed.
“Are you awake, Bill?” Tom whispered into the darkness. He already knew the other boy was awake, he could sense it, so he wasn’t surprised when he heard Bill whisper back.
Tom sat on the edge of Bill’s bed and it groaned from the added weight. Bill was facing the wall and huddled closer to it when Tom shifted next to him. He pulled the blankets tighter around himself and kept his distance from Tom. Tom was curious why Bill was awake, but he was pretty sure he already had the answer when Bill turned over to face him and had tear stains still drying on his cheeks. Nightmares.
Tom wished he could hug him, offer some form of comfort. He wanted to hold Bill and take all of his demons away. Knowing better than to touch his brother, Tom kept his hands folded on his lap as he sat next to Bill. He could tell Bill was regressing, trying to keep the memories from taking over his mind. Tom remembered how Bill had gotten scared to be around him after the abuse had started. The same look Bill had had back then was there in his eyes now. Life was really cruel, in Tom’s opinion. They’d been doing so well.
Since the end of the abuse, Tom had been able to touch Bill without him freaking out too badly. They’d been able to show affection without feeling awkward. Tom hated the strain that had been placed on their bond. They were soul mates of a non-sexual nature. They were, quite literally, two halves of one whole, and Tom missed his brother. He missed knowing everything that was going through his brother’s mind. They no longer shared stories or even had real conversations, and Tom wanted to cut his heart out every time Bill looked at him with fear in his eyes. Things weren’t supposed to be this way. Maybe if Bill hadn’t felt Tom inside him, he’d be able to handle his twin being beside him.
Tom could remember the night Bill had had his first night terror. He remembered, too clearly, the exact night, and what had led up to Bill waking and screaming for help in the middle of the night. Tom had rushed to his side, tried to give comfort and hold him, but Bill had shoved him away. He didn’t want the hands that had helped undress him, helped touch his body to hardness, to be the ones wrapped around him, soothing away his fears. Those hands had been the cause of his fears.
Bill had informed Tom, quite harshly through angry tears, that the nightmares were all Tom’s fault. Tom didn’t understand; he’d only been doing what he was told, just as Bill had been following orders. They were both stuck in the twisted nightmare that was reality. Bill had proceeded to kick at him until Tom was stumbling from the bed to stand a few feet away. Whispering into the darkness around them, Bill had said something Tom had never forgotten. “Maybe if you weren’t here, I wouldn’t be so fucked up.” Tom hadn’t cried when Bill said those cruel words to him, he had simply turned his back to Bill and trekked back to his own bed. He hadn’t cried since the first time he was forced to touch Bill in a way he had never imagined.
Tom still didn’t understand the meaning of Bill’s words. It had been about three years since Bill had told him that, and he still had no clue what his little brother had meant. He was still trying to piece together jagged edges of their twin puzzle, and that piece just didn’t fit anywhere in his mind. Hearing those words from his twin was probably one of the worst experiences he’d ever had, worse than the abuse, and feelings of guilt and anger that came with it. Hearing that his other half didn’t want him around had felt like someone had cut his mind, body, and soul in two with a serrated knife. It hurt. At those words, he wanted to die, but he knew that if he had, Bill would be left alone, even more broken than he was. Tom couldn’t do that to his baby brother, no matter what evil words were thrown at him.
“Are you okay?” Tom whispered, refraining from touching. He sat quietly, patiently waiting for Bill to be composed enough to talk to him.
The memories were rushing back to Bill. He felt like he was reliving every tortured moment. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel hands on his body, could see bruises on his skin. He felt himself being violated over and over. Bill whimpered quietly and scooted all the way to the wall, back pressed against the coolness. Putting as much distance between them as he could manage, Bill still felt trapped. He was trapped inside his own mind and being held prisoner by sick memories. Tom hadn’t done anything to him that he hadn’t been forced to do right back to Tom. He knew that, deep down, but he still felt like the slightly older boy could have stopped it all, should have stopped it.
Bill’s head was shaking back and forth, trying to rid the memories, but they just kept right on playing in his mind. He was taken back to the night the insomnia had started and he had had the worst nightmare he’d ever experienced. That day, he’d been raped by the man recording them. Big, wet tears seeped from his eyes and he wiped at his runny nose. Bill couldn’t stop the memory from invading.
Bill was sobbing, openly, as Tom was instructed to tie a gag around his brother’s mouth, after having already bound Bill’s wrists together with pieces of leather. Tom shook with rage and glared at the camera, fury and hatred showing through his eyes. Bill turned his back to Tom so he could tie the gag. They both knew what would happen if they didn’t cooperate.
The man had gotten creative in their punishments. When they were just thirteen, all it would take to make them do whatever he wanted was a slap or two, but back then, all the man wanted was for them to touch each other sexually. After about a year, the abuse had gotten more extreme and the boys had become more stubborn. The man had gotten bored of them just being together and now wanted them to perform exceedingly grotesque acts with each other. Beyond having sex with one another, the man wanted them to do things that were downright sickening, and neither boy wanted to do it. Instead of the slaps, or screaming matches, they were now punished with lit cigarettes extinguished on their skin, or being hit with metal coat hangers along their bare backs. If they didn’t follow orders, they were forced to watch one another get physically abused. That almost hurt worse than the beating itself, or just participating in the disgusting acts.
Tom reached around Bill, holding a piece of material stretched tight in his hands. Bill opened his mouth and Tom slipped it between his parted lips. Bill bit down on the piece of cloth and sniffed back more tears. He lifted his bound hands to his face and wiped at his eyes. After pulling the material into a knot at the back of Bill’s head, Tom was instructed to help Bill onto the bed. Bill remained crying silently, eyes downcast, as he climbed to the head of the mattress, his knees sliding on the silk sheets.
A hook was in place on the wall above the top of the bed and Tom was told to secure the leather around Bill’s wrists to it. Bill placidly stretched his arms above his head, fingertips touching the wall. He kept his eyes down, staring at the black silk under him, tears falling and dotting all over. There were two leather straps with buckles on them lying in the middle of the bed; they were somehow hooked together under the bed and brought up to lie on top. Tom was instructed to lock the cuffs around his brother’s ankles. Tom did not want to tie his brother down in such a vulnerable position, but he ground his teeth and did it anyway, fearing what would happen if he didn’t. Had the man thought of every possible way to torture the twins?
Bill was on his knees, arms stretched straight in front of him, angled above his head, and latched to the hook in the wall. The shackles around his ankles made his legs spread involuntarily. He was exposed in every way possible, and Tom felt guilty because he had been told to remain clothed while Bill had been forced to strip nude, earlier. Bill’s head was hanging down; it hurt to try and look at what was happening behind him.
Tom was nauseated as he kneeled behind his brother. He narrowed his vision on the cigarette scars marring Bill’s back. There was a pattern to them, like a brand. Tom wanted to see his own back, compare the marks to see if they matched. The mad had obviously thought of them as his property, so he’d marked them in his own special way.
The man informed them that he wanted Tom to fuck Bill from behind, while he was tied up. Tom’s fingers shook as he reached for the hem of his shirt. Pausing when the man told him to stop, he faced the camera in confusion. He was to leave his clothes on while he committed unspeakable acts with his brother. The man said the rawness that was sure to show on Bill’s body from the rough denim rubbing against it was a turn on. Tom did not want to do this to Bill; he couldn’t take all of his twin’s dignity like that. He took deep breaths and tried to will himself into performing with his brother. Nothing he thought of could take his mind off the way Bill kept shivering.
Staring at Bill’s bowed spine, Tom admitted he couldn’t get himself hard. He had tried, but nothing was working. Domination wasn’t his thing; it was too similar to what the madman was doing to them. “I can’t do this,” Tom whispered, head shaking rapidly and dreads swinging.
“Can’t, or won’t, Tom?” The man was angry, now. Tom hadn’t meant to anger him, but there was nothing he could do. He was about to be defiant and not because of something he could control.
Tom squeezed his eyes shut, breathing deeply, and mumbled, “can’t.” Bill craned his neck to look at his brother, gag still choking him. His eyes reflected terror, too much white showing. He tried speaking past the material in his mouth, but it came out garbled. Nodding his head, Bill pushed his hips back against Tom’s, trying to convey his unspoken message. He’d much prefer to have Tom touching him than the man, because he knew when Tom couldn’t do something, the man took matters into his own hands. Tom looked hopelessly at Bill, hands gently stopping Bill’s hips from moving against him. He couldn’t force his body into action. There was too much love inside him for Bill to hurt him in this manner.
Tom’s head turned so fast his dreads flew as the man declared what Bill already knew would happen. He’d violate Bill himself if Tom wouldn’t cooperate. Tom tried to backtrack and say he could do it, but the man had already shut the camera off and was striding toward them angrily. Panic rose inside Tom as he was shoved off the bed roughly. Bill tried to look behind him, to see what was happening, but couldn’t twist that far with his arms tied above his head. He dropped his forehead down and wailed, his entire body shaking with fear.
Tom stood up on the other side of the bed and watched in horror as the man crawled over it. As he slid past Bill’s tied form, he trailed his fingertips over Bill’s backside. Tom ground his teeth and prayed for help to get hard so that he would be the only one touching Bill. The nasty man and his disgusting fingers had no right to touch his baby brother.
“If you aren’t man enough to get it up and fuck him, then maybe you should watch how a real man does it.” Tom’s fists clenched and he wanted to slug the man in the jaw. What kind of man, real or otherwise, in Tom’s situation, would be able to get it up to fuck his twin in such a terrible way?
Tom had just enough time to brace himself before his body was pushed to the ground by the bigger man. Tom’s palms slammed into the cement floor and he felt his wrist give. He clenched his jaw and took breaths through his nose; the pain in his wrist was nothing compared to the anger inside him. He didn’t cry out as the man’s fist connected to his cheek. He just stared at him, eyes devoid of any emotion except pure rage directed at the dirty old man.
Tom sat on the cold ground and stayed silent and immobile as the man grabbed more strips of material. He demanded Tom’s hands and Tom obeyed. If he tried to fight the man, he knew he’d lose, and Bill would be hurt even worse. Tom didn’t move one muscle, didn’t attempt to resist or pull away, as the man bound his wrists too tight. The material rubbed against the skin on his wrists as the man yanked on the cloth and tied Tom’s wrists to his ankles. Tom’s eyes found Bill’s.
Bill was tugging in vain on his binds; he didn’t want to have anyone but Tom touch him, if he had to be touched at all. Tom was gentle and tried to make it feel good, tried to make Bill forget that it was his twin that was causing sensation in his body. When the man touched him, it was harsh and cruel and there was no pleasure for Bill in the least. All Bill felt whenever the man touched his skin was the urge to vomit, and his insides crawling in repulsion. He felt dirty and violated, abused.
Bill turned and watched the man gag Tom and tie the material roughly at the back of Tom’s head. Bill wished there wasn’t anything in his own mouth so he could scream. Tom stared into his twin’s eyes and he could practically feel the burning resentment seeping out of them. Why couldn’t Tom have just done what he was told? Bill was about to pay for Tom’s inability to function. Instead of Tom being punished, it would be Bill, himself, who wore the scars. Bill’s face fell toward the stained sheets, sobbing through the cloth in his mouth. Why was this his life?
Satisfied that Tom was tied up nice and tight, the man turned to face Bill on the bed, appraising him. He climbed over the side of the bed and Bill inched forward, terrified. Bill felt strong hands grab his hips and pull him back those couple inches he’d moved. Bill felt jeans rub against his bare skin. “Mmm, baby, you look so fucking sexy.”
Bill wanted to puke, but was afraid to let it come up; he’d end up suffocating himself. The hands left his hips and Bill tensed as he heard the clink of the man’s belt. Bill tried to shift forward and the man slapped his big calloused hands back to Bill’s naked body, gripping the skin tightly, his fingernails digging into the soft flesh.
The man leant over Bill’s back, his stomach pressed against Bill’s curving spine. Using one hand to fist Bill’s hair and keep his head from moving, the man pushed his mouth against the shell of Bill’s ear to whisper, “now, be a good boy, Bill, and you’ll enjoy it more.” Bill’s body jumped as the man used his other hand to smack Bill’s ass, a bright red handprint showing almost immediately. Bill’s body shook as he cried harder around his gag. The man looked to Tom, a smug expression on his face. He was pleased with himself. Tom tried to murder him with his glare, causing the man to smirk.
The man unzipped his jeans and pulled himself free. He moaned, pumping his shaft a few times. With his free hand, he rubbed up and down Bill’s back, the way Simone had whenever Bill had been ill. Bill bit down on the gag, eyes shut so tight they were burning. Fingers snaked into Bill’s hair and jerked his head back. The man bent over Bill again and bit his shoulder; Bill screamed.
Tom’s eyes grew large as he watched the horror in front of him. The man was preparing to enter his brother without any kind of preparation, even though there was plenty of lubrication on a table next to the bed. Tom tried to stand, but the binds around his hands and legs kept him from going anywhere. Tom was shouting through the cotton holding his tongue down inside his mouth. He knew Bill would never forgive him for this.
The twins screamed at the same time, their cries muffled by the cloth as the man shoved inside Bill, tearing him. The man groaned mumbled sentiments at Bill, petting his backside. He spat into his hand and spread the saliva around Bill’s entrance as an afterthought. Bill already had blood trickling down his thigh.
The man hadn’t even moved inside Bill yet, but his breathing was already heavier and his body was already on its way to getting off. The friction of the man pulling out of him was unbearable and caused Bill to thrash, pulling on the restraints as hard as he could. It hurt, oh God it hurt so bad. The man started moving his hips, speeding up with each new thrust.
Bill was screaming nonstop, praying he would die. He was being impaled and ripped open, blood sliding down both thighs. Feeling like he was about to pass out from the pain, Bill continued screaming until he thought his throat was going to bleed. He could hear Tom’s muffled screams to the side of him.
Tom kept trying to stand, and failing at it. The binds were too tight, his body too cramped to straighten out.
His body fell onto his side, still trying to straighten his legs and screaming wordlessly through the material locked between his teeth. There was nothing he could do. He fought against the ties, making his wrists bleed. Tom watched helplessly from his lying position on the floor. Bill was bleeding and breaking before him, and Tom felt his own insides shattering. This was all his fault. He should have done what he was told, should have forced his body to respond. Still, no tears came, just cold rage and a promise to torture the man for what he was doing to Bill.
The man thrust three, four, ten times; Bill had lost count. He was about to lose consciousness, the pain too much for his body to handle. The thick hands reached around Bill’s waist to touch Bill’s flaccid penis. Bill screamed more as he was squeezed and pulled on harshly. His body jerked forward each time the man pounded into him, their hips slamming together. He didn’t think he was going to survive this, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to, anyway.
The man was sending a husky whisper through Bill’s hair, declaring he was close to his release. Bill could no longer scream as his body was battered and bruised by this sadistic pervert. Head down, knees about to give under the pressure and weight, Bill felt himself impaled and violated. He knew his mind was breaking from this torture. Warmth filled Bill’s insides and he retched around the gag. No longer caring if he died from asphyxiation, Bill continued retching from the feel of the wretched man’s fluids inside his body.
Bill’s body sagged as the man pulled out of him. He felt the man’s fingers slide inside him, wiggling and collecting the blood and semen that was starting to leak out. The man wiped the juices staining his hand over the cheeks of Bill’s ass. He reached up and pet Bill’s hair with a dirty hand causing Bill to flinch. The man undid Bill’s gag and pulled his head back by the hair as soon as it was untied. Bill had red lines along his cheeks from where the material had cut into his skin. The man covered Bill’s mouth with his own and shoved his tongue inside. Bill choked, almost puking in the other man’s mouth. After releasing Bill’s lips, the man pulled his jeans back into place and covered himself.
Moving around Bill, the man reached up to unhook Bill’s arms. As soon as his arms were free, Bill collapsed to the bed. He felt the man unbuckling the binds around his ankles, and once free, Bill pulled his legs up, his body going into the fetal position.
“Get dressed, and untie your brother,” were the man’s parting words. He made sure to grab the camera right before walking out of the storage shed they were all occupying.
Tom wriggled his body until he was next to the bed; he still couldn’t stand, nor get the binds untied. Tom sat with his back against the side of the mattress and waited for Bill to untie him, if he ever would. Bill scrambled up to the edge of the bed, finally puking over the side. The contents of his stomach spilled onto the floor next to Tom, and Tom just watched with haunted eyes.
Tom sat by the bed, watching Bill dry heave, cry and hug himself, for an eternity. Finally Bill realized his brother was still bound and gagged. With shaky fingers and aching body, it took Bill a few tries to get the knots undone. When all of the material was finally off of Tom, he examined his stinging wrists. They were chafed and raw with dried blood crusted around them. His cheeks felt the same as his wrists, from the extremely tight gag.
Tom pushed his own agony out of his mind. He wrapped his arms around Bill’s trembling shoulders. Bill allowed the hug, but didn’t have the energy to reciprocate. He was too upset, too numb, too violated. And, a big part of him blamed Tom.
“Bill?” Tom questioned. Bill was cowering against the wall, seeing things of the past that weren’t there. He was weeping, fingernails scratching his own skin so hard that blood was starting to show on his arms. Tom snapped his fingers in front of Bill’s face and Bill blinked. Where was he? He blinked blurrily at Tom. His room. Their room. He was okay. No one else was there.
Bill flew forward, throwing his arms around Tom, holding tight, crying against his brother’s neck. “What’d we do to deserve it all, Tomi?” Bill asked, mumbling, face pressed into Tom’s skin. Tom held him and it was all he could do. He had no answers.
-Jax-
Genre: Slash
Characters: Andreas, Bill Kaulitz, David Jost, Georg Listing, Gustav Schafer, OMC, Simone Trumper, Tom Kaulitz
Pairing: Bill/Tom, Bill/OMC, Bill/Andi, Tom/OMC
Rating: NC17
Category: AU, Angst, Drama, Twincest
Words (in chapter): 4039
Warning: Abuse, Adult Content, Bondage, Cross Dressing, Heavy Kink, Humiliation, Incest, Minor Character Death, Non-Con/Rape, Pedophilia, Uder-Age Erotica, Violence, WIP
Summary: Simone receives mysterious videotapes in the mail of her twins. How will the family deal with the content of the tapes, and will they all survive the aftermath?
Note: By far my darkest fic EVER. This story stemmed from one lyric in the song Liar, Liar by The Used. I've never written anything with this type of content before.
Tom awoke with a start, sitting straight up in his bed. He gazed around the room. The pale moonlight shadowing throughout, leaving some spaces darker than others. Why had he woken up? It was quiet in the house; it was three am, of course it would be quiet. Then he realized his brother was awake, lying as still as possible in his dark space of their shared bedroom. Tom stared at the other bed, which he knew contained Bill, but he couldn’t see anything through the illusions of the shadows. It was too dark on that side of the room and the more he stared, the more confused an image he received. He thought he saw the blanket move, but it could have been a trick of the glowing rays of silver. Lifting his own covers off his lap, he climbed from the bed and padded quietly towards his brother’s bed.
“Are you awake, Bill?” Tom whispered into the darkness. He already knew the other boy was awake, he could sense it, so he wasn’t surprised when he heard Bill whisper back.
Tom sat on the edge of Bill’s bed and it groaned from the added weight. Bill was facing the wall and huddled closer to it when Tom shifted next to him. He pulled the blankets tighter around himself and kept his distance from Tom. Tom was curious why Bill was awake, but he was pretty sure he already had the answer when Bill turned over to face him and had tear stains still drying on his cheeks. Nightmares.
Tom wished he could hug him, offer some form of comfort. He wanted to hold Bill and take all of his demons away. Knowing better than to touch his brother, Tom kept his hands folded on his lap as he sat next to Bill. He could tell Bill was regressing, trying to keep the memories from taking over his mind. Tom remembered how Bill had gotten scared to be around him after the abuse had started. The same look Bill had had back then was there in his eyes now. Life was really cruel, in Tom’s opinion. They’d been doing so well.
Since the end of the abuse, Tom had been able to touch Bill without him freaking out too badly. They’d been able to show affection without feeling awkward. Tom hated the strain that had been placed on their bond. They were soul mates of a non-sexual nature. They were, quite literally, two halves of one whole, and Tom missed his brother. He missed knowing everything that was going through his brother’s mind. They no longer shared stories or even had real conversations, and Tom wanted to cut his heart out every time Bill looked at him with fear in his eyes. Things weren’t supposed to be this way. Maybe if Bill hadn’t felt Tom inside him, he’d be able to handle his twin being beside him.
Tom could remember the night Bill had had his first night terror. He remembered, too clearly, the exact night, and what had led up to Bill waking and screaming for help in the middle of the night. Tom had rushed to his side, tried to give comfort and hold him, but Bill had shoved him away. He didn’t want the hands that had helped undress him, helped touch his body to hardness, to be the ones wrapped around him, soothing away his fears. Those hands had been the cause of his fears.
Bill had informed Tom, quite harshly through angry tears, that the nightmares were all Tom’s fault. Tom didn’t understand; he’d only been doing what he was told, just as Bill had been following orders. They were both stuck in the twisted nightmare that was reality. Bill had proceeded to kick at him until Tom was stumbling from the bed to stand a few feet away. Whispering into the darkness around them, Bill had said something Tom had never forgotten. “Maybe if you weren’t here, I wouldn’t be so fucked up.” Tom hadn’t cried when Bill said those cruel words to him, he had simply turned his back to Bill and trekked back to his own bed. He hadn’t cried since the first time he was forced to touch Bill in a way he had never imagined.
Tom still didn’t understand the meaning of Bill’s words. It had been about three years since Bill had told him that, and he still had no clue what his little brother had meant. He was still trying to piece together jagged edges of their twin puzzle, and that piece just didn’t fit anywhere in his mind. Hearing those words from his twin was probably one of the worst experiences he’d ever had, worse than the abuse, and feelings of guilt and anger that came with it. Hearing that his other half didn’t want him around had felt like someone had cut his mind, body, and soul in two with a serrated knife. It hurt. At those words, he wanted to die, but he knew that if he had, Bill would be left alone, even more broken than he was. Tom couldn’t do that to his baby brother, no matter what evil words were thrown at him.
“Are you okay?” Tom whispered, refraining from touching. He sat quietly, patiently waiting for Bill to be composed enough to talk to him.
The memories were rushing back to Bill. He felt like he was reliving every tortured moment. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel hands on his body, could see bruises on his skin. He felt himself being violated over and over. Bill whimpered quietly and scooted all the way to the wall, back pressed against the coolness. Putting as much distance between them as he could manage, Bill still felt trapped. He was trapped inside his own mind and being held prisoner by sick memories. Tom hadn’t done anything to him that he hadn’t been forced to do right back to Tom. He knew that, deep down, but he still felt like the slightly older boy could have stopped it all, should have stopped it.
Bill’s head was shaking back and forth, trying to rid the memories, but they just kept right on playing in his mind. He was taken back to the night the insomnia had started and he had had the worst nightmare he’d ever experienced. That day, he’d been raped by the man recording them. Big, wet tears seeped from his eyes and he wiped at his runny nose. Bill couldn’t stop the memory from invading.
Bill was sobbing, openly, as Tom was instructed to tie a gag around his brother’s mouth, after having already bound Bill’s wrists together with pieces of leather. Tom shook with rage and glared at the camera, fury and hatred showing through his eyes. Bill turned his back to Tom so he could tie the gag. They both knew what would happen if they didn’t cooperate.
The man had gotten creative in their punishments. When they were just thirteen, all it would take to make them do whatever he wanted was a slap or two, but back then, all the man wanted was for them to touch each other sexually. After about a year, the abuse had gotten more extreme and the boys had become more stubborn. The man had gotten bored of them just being together and now wanted them to perform exceedingly grotesque acts with each other. Beyond having sex with one another, the man wanted them to do things that were downright sickening, and neither boy wanted to do it. Instead of the slaps, or screaming matches, they were now punished with lit cigarettes extinguished on their skin, or being hit with metal coat hangers along their bare backs. If they didn’t follow orders, they were forced to watch one another get physically abused. That almost hurt worse than the beating itself, or just participating in the disgusting acts.
Tom reached around Bill, holding a piece of material stretched tight in his hands. Bill opened his mouth and Tom slipped it between his parted lips. Bill bit down on the piece of cloth and sniffed back more tears. He lifted his bound hands to his face and wiped at his eyes. After pulling the material into a knot at the back of Bill’s head, Tom was instructed to help Bill onto the bed. Bill remained crying silently, eyes downcast, as he climbed to the head of the mattress, his knees sliding on the silk sheets.
A hook was in place on the wall above the top of the bed and Tom was told to secure the leather around Bill’s wrists to it. Bill placidly stretched his arms above his head, fingertips touching the wall. He kept his eyes down, staring at the black silk under him, tears falling and dotting all over. There were two leather straps with buckles on them lying in the middle of the bed; they were somehow hooked together under the bed and brought up to lie on top. Tom was instructed to lock the cuffs around his brother’s ankles. Tom did not want to tie his brother down in such a vulnerable position, but he ground his teeth and did it anyway, fearing what would happen if he didn’t. Had the man thought of every possible way to torture the twins?
Bill was on his knees, arms stretched straight in front of him, angled above his head, and latched to the hook in the wall. The shackles around his ankles made his legs spread involuntarily. He was exposed in every way possible, and Tom felt guilty because he had been told to remain clothed while Bill had been forced to strip nude, earlier. Bill’s head was hanging down; it hurt to try and look at what was happening behind him.
Tom was nauseated as he kneeled behind his brother. He narrowed his vision on the cigarette scars marring Bill’s back. There was a pattern to them, like a brand. Tom wanted to see his own back, compare the marks to see if they matched. The mad had obviously thought of them as his property, so he’d marked them in his own special way.
The man informed them that he wanted Tom to fuck Bill from behind, while he was tied up. Tom’s fingers shook as he reached for the hem of his shirt. Pausing when the man told him to stop, he faced the camera in confusion. He was to leave his clothes on while he committed unspeakable acts with his brother. The man said the rawness that was sure to show on Bill’s body from the rough denim rubbing against it was a turn on. Tom did not want to do this to Bill; he couldn’t take all of his twin’s dignity like that. He took deep breaths and tried to will himself into performing with his brother. Nothing he thought of could take his mind off the way Bill kept shivering.
Staring at Bill’s bowed spine, Tom admitted he couldn’t get himself hard. He had tried, but nothing was working. Domination wasn’t his thing; it was too similar to what the madman was doing to them. “I can’t do this,” Tom whispered, head shaking rapidly and dreads swinging.
“Can’t, or won’t, Tom?” The man was angry, now. Tom hadn’t meant to anger him, but there was nothing he could do. He was about to be defiant and not because of something he could control.
Tom squeezed his eyes shut, breathing deeply, and mumbled, “can’t.” Bill craned his neck to look at his brother, gag still choking him. His eyes reflected terror, too much white showing. He tried speaking past the material in his mouth, but it came out garbled. Nodding his head, Bill pushed his hips back against Tom’s, trying to convey his unspoken message. He’d much prefer to have Tom touching him than the man, because he knew when Tom couldn’t do something, the man took matters into his own hands. Tom looked hopelessly at Bill, hands gently stopping Bill’s hips from moving against him. He couldn’t force his body into action. There was too much love inside him for Bill to hurt him in this manner.
Tom’s head turned so fast his dreads flew as the man declared what Bill already knew would happen. He’d violate Bill himself if Tom wouldn’t cooperate. Tom tried to backtrack and say he could do it, but the man had already shut the camera off and was striding toward them angrily. Panic rose inside Tom as he was shoved off the bed roughly. Bill tried to look behind him, to see what was happening, but couldn’t twist that far with his arms tied above his head. He dropped his forehead down and wailed, his entire body shaking with fear.
Tom stood up on the other side of the bed and watched in horror as the man crawled over it. As he slid past Bill’s tied form, he trailed his fingertips over Bill’s backside. Tom ground his teeth and prayed for help to get hard so that he would be the only one touching Bill. The nasty man and his disgusting fingers had no right to touch his baby brother.
“If you aren’t man enough to get it up and fuck him, then maybe you should watch how a real man does it.” Tom’s fists clenched and he wanted to slug the man in the jaw. What kind of man, real or otherwise, in Tom’s situation, would be able to get it up to fuck his twin in such a terrible way?
Tom had just enough time to brace himself before his body was pushed to the ground by the bigger man. Tom’s palms slammed into the cement floor and he felt his wrist give. He clenched his jaw and took breaths through his nose; the pain in his wrist was nothing compared to the anger inside him. He didn’t cry out as the man’s fist connected to his cheek. He just stared at him, eyes devoid of any emotion except pure rage directed at the dirty old man.
Tom sat on the cold ground and stayed silent and immobile as the man grabbed more strips of material. He demanded Tom’s hands and Tom obeyed. If he tried to fight the man, he knew he’d lose, and Bill would be hurt even worse. Tom didn’t move one muscle, didn’t attempt to resist or pull away, as the man bound his wrists too tight. The material rubbed against the skin on his wrists as the man yanked on the cloth and tied Tom’s wrists to his ankles. Tom’s eyes found Bill’s.
Bill was tugging in vain on his binds; he didn’t want to have anyone but Tom touch him, if he had to be touched at all. Tom was gentle and tried to make it feel good, tried to make Bill forget that it was his twin that was causing sensation in his body. When the man touched him, it was harsh and cruel and there was no pleasure for Bill in the least. All Bill felt whenever the man touched his skin was the urge to vomit, and his insides crawling in repulsion. He felt dirty and violated, abused.
Bill turned and watched the man gag Tom and tie the material roughly at the back of Tom’s head. Bill wished there wasn’t anything in his own mouth so he could scream. Tom stared into his twin’s eyes and he could practically feel the burning resentment seeping out of them. Why couldn’t Tom have just done what he was told? Bill was about to pay for Tom’s inability to function. Instead of Tom being punished, it would be Bill, himself, who wore the scars. Bill’s face fell toward the stained sheets, sobbing through the cloth in his mouth. Why was this his life?
Satisfied that Tom was tied up nice and tight, the man turned to face Bill on the bed, appraising him. He climbed over the side of the bed and Bill inched forward, terrified. Bill felt strong hands grab his hips and pull him back those couple inches he’d moved. Bill felt jeans rub against his bare skin. “Mmm, baby, you look so fucking sexy.”
Bill wanted to puke, but was afraid to let it come up; he’d end up suffocating himself. The hands left his hips and Bill tensed as he heard the clink of the man’s belt. Bill tried to shift forward and the man slapped his big calloused hands back to Bill’s naked body, gripping the skin tightly, his fingernails digging into the soft flesh.
The man leant over Bill’s back, his stomach pressed against Bill’s curving spine. Using one hand to fist Bill’s hair and keep his head from moving, the man pushed his mouth against the shell of Bill’s ear to whisper, “now, be a good boy, Bill, and you’ll enjoy it more.” Bill’s body jumped as the man used his other hand to smack Bill’s ass, a bright red handprint showing almost immediately. Bill’s body shook as he cried harder around his gag. The man looked to Tom, a smug expression on his face. He was pleased with himself. Tom tried to murder him with his glare, causing the man to smirk.
The man unzipped his jeans and pulled himself free. He moaned, pumping his shaft a few times. With his free hand, he rubbed up and down Bill’s back, the way Simone had whenever Bill had been ill. Bill bit down on the gag, eyes shut so tight they were burning. Fingers snaked into Bill’s hair and jerked his head back. The man bent over Bill again and bit his shoulder; Bill screamed.
Tom’s eyes grew large as he watched the horror in front of him. The man was preparing to enter his brother without any kind of preparation, even though there was plenty of lubrication on a table next to the bed. Tom tried to stand, but the binds around his hands and legs kept him from going anywhere. Tom was shouting through the cotton holding his tongue down inside his mouth. He knew Bill would never forgive him for this.
The twins screamed at the same time, their cries muffled by the cloth as the man shoved inside Bill, tearing him. The man groaned mumbled sentiments at Bill, petting his backside. He spat into his hand and spread the saliva around Bill’s entrance as an afterthought. Bill already had blood trickling down his thigh.
The man hadn’t even moved inside Bill yet, but his breathing was already heavier and his body was already on its way to getting off. The friction of the man pulling out of him was unbearable and caused Bill to thrash, pulling on the restraints as hard as he could. It hurt, oh God it hurt so bad. The man started moving his hips, speeding up with each new thrust.
Bill was screaming nonstop, praying he would die. He was being impaled and ripped open, blood sliding down both thighs. Feeling like he was about to pass out from the pain, Bill continued screaming until he thought his throat was going to bleed. He could hear Tom’s muffled screams to the side of him.
Tom kept trying to stand, and failing at it. The binds were too tight, his body too cramped to straighten out.
His body fell onto his side, still trying to straighten his legs and screaming wordlessly through the material locked between his teeth. There was nothing he could do. He fought against the ties, making his wrists bleed. Tom watched helplessly from his lying position on the floor. Bill was bleeding and breaking before him, and Tom felt his own insides shattering. This was all his fault. He should have done what he was told, should have forced his body to respond. Still, no tears came, just cold rage and a promise to torture the man for what he was doing to Bill.
The man thrust three, four, ten times; Bill had lost count. He was about to lose consciousness, the pain too much for his body to handle. The thick hands reached around Bill’s waist to touch Bill’s flaccid penis. Bill screamed more as he was squeezed and pulled on harshly. His body jerked forward each time the man pounded into him, their hips slamming together. He didn’t think he was going to survive this, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to, anyway.
The man was sending a husky whisper through Bill’s hair, declaring he was close to his release. Bill could no longer scream as his body was battered and bruised by this sadistic pervert. Head down, knees about to give under the pressure and weight, Bill felt himself impaled and violated. He knew his mind was breaking from this torture. Warmth filled Bill’s insides and he retched around the gag. No longer caring if he died from asphyxiation, Bill continued retching from the feel of the wretched man’s fluids inside his body.
Bill’s body sagged as the man pulled out of him. He felt the man’s fingers slide inside him, wiggling and collecting the blood and semen that was starting to leak out. The man wiped the juices staining his hand over the cheeks of Bill’s ass. He reached up and pet Bill’s hair with a dirty hand causing Bill to flinch. The man undid Bill’s gag and pulled his head back by the hair as soon as it was untied. Bill had red lines along his cheeks from where the material had cut into his skin. The man covered Bill’s mouth with his own and shoved his tongue inside. Bill choked, almost puking in the other man’s mouth. After releasing Bill’s lips, the man pulled his jeans back into place and covered himself.
Moving around Bill, the man reached up to unhook Bill’s arms. As soon as his arms were free, Bill collapsed to the bed. He felt the man unbuckling the binds around his ankles, and once free, Bill pulled his legs up, his body going into the fetal position.
“Get dressed, and untie your brother,” were the man’s parting words. He made sure to grab the camera right before walking out of the storage shed they were all occupying.
Tom wriggled his body until he was next to the bed; he still couldn’t stand, nor get the binds untied. Tom sat with his back against the side of the mattress and waited for Bill to untie him, if he ever would. Bill scrambled up to the edge of the bed, finally puking over the side. The contents of his stomach spilled onto the floor next to Tom, and Tom just watched with haunted eyes.
Tom sat by the bed, watching Bill dry heave, cry and hug himself, for an eternity. Finally Bill realized his brother was still bound and gagged. With shaky fingers and aching body, it took Bill a few tries to get the knots undone. When all of the material was finally off of Tom, he examined his stinging wrists. They were chafed and raw with dried blood crusted around them. His cheeks felt the same as his wrists, from the extremely tight gag.
Tom pushed his own agony out of his mind. He wrapped his arms around Bill’s trembling shoulders. Bill allowed the hug, but didn’t have the energy to reciprocate. He was too upset, too numb, too violated. And, a big part of him blamed Tom.
“Bill?” Tom questioned. Bill was cowering against the wall, seeing things of the past that weren’t there. He was weeping, fingernails scratching his own skin so hard that blood was starting to show on his arms. Tom snapped his fingers in front of Bill’s face and Bill blinked. Where was he? He blinked blurrily at Tom. His room. Their room. He was okay. No one else was there.
Bill flew forward, throwing his arms around Tom, holding tight, crying against his brother’s neck. “What’d we do to deserve it all, Tomi?” Bill asked, mumbling, face pressed into Tom’s skin. Tom held him and it was all he could do. He had no answers.
-Jax-