I am not a pet - chapter 2 - A new life
Pairing: Macgyver/OMC
Characters: Macgyver, Jack Dalton, Matty, Riley, OMC
Warning: non-consenual, rape, but not graphic
Spoilers: none
Rating: explicit
Genre: hurt/comfort, loneliness, kidnapping, non-consensual drugging, non-consensual sex, gunshot wounds
Author's Notes: This fic fills the ‘wild card = rape/con non’ square on my H/C Bingo card.
Word Count: ~1275
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: What if Mac and Jack are taken by some arms dealers? Will they be able to get away from them?
This ficlet can also be found on AO3.
Mac groans, he is stiff and hurting, if they would only leave him alone so he could gather his thoughts, but they keep beating him, with the occasional tazing. He´s hungry and thirsty and he could really use a shower. His mind is so preoccupied that he doesn’t see a new blow coming, it hits him hard on the jaw and he blacks out for a moment.
When he comes to, the men step to the side, revealing Frank.
‘You are tougher than I would have given you. I like you, maybe I should just keep you instead of selling you.’
‘Go to hell,’ Mac spits out.
Frank looks unimpressed, ‘or maybe not.’
Frank holds a bottle of water in front of him and Mac only glares at it. He knows it is spiked, but his body needs the water and they will drug him anyway, there isn´t much he can do being bound as he is. So he moves his head towards the bottle, indicating he will drink it willingly. The bottle is tipped and Mac greedily drinks until the bottle is empty. He is pulled into a kneeling position.
‘Bruises become you, boy.’ A shudder runs through him when Frank lets his hand run over his chest and stomach. A flash startles Mac, but for some reason it doesn´t bothers him as much as it should. He just blinks, he can feel the drugs slowly taking over his mind, making him waver on his knees until everything goes black and he goes limp.
* * *
Waking up is as bad as all the previous times. His head is fuzzy and he has a hard time concentrating. He hates being drugged. Voices filter through, but it is not clear what they are saying. He tries to move and moans when pain shoots through him.
‘Shut up,’ a blow hits his jaw, ‘I don´t want to hear a peep out of you, understood?’
‘Fuck you,’ Mac grits out defiantly. Another hit and kick to his ribs, leaves him panting.
‘I don´t like to repeat myself, pet.’
‘I am not a pet.’ He spats out.
It only earns him a kick to the abdomen. His breath stocks and he curls in on himself.
‘Breath! They told me your tough, you know how to deal with it!’
Mac is in too much pain to taunt the man further, so he just nods. It is only now that Mac realizes they switched his bindings for heavy steel shackles. While he is pulled to his knees, he realizes the manacles are welded on, there is no keyhole. He is glad he wasn´t awake for that, the downside is that he isn´t getting out of these any time soon. His ankles had the same treatment, next to the fact that they are easy to tether him down, they are also actually weighing him down.
Mac is pulled from his thoughts when a hand strikes his face. He can taste blood, but doesn´t make a noise. He is getting fed up with being used as a punching back.
‘Good boy, you weren`t paying attention.’
Mac looks down, not meeting the man´s eyes, another rule they enforced brutally in the first couple of days he was in their custody. His body is hurt enough and he wants the pain to stop.
‘I want him cleaned up, he’s filthy and he reeks.’
Mac is pushed on his hands and knees and told to crawl to the bathroom. Every fiber in him tells him to resist, but he is just too worn down and hurting and they are with too many. He knows he needs to pick his battles, this isn´t one of them. He crawls into the bathroom and his filthy clothes are cut from his body. He can feel his cheeks heat up, but the two men accompanying him don´t seem to be fazed. He is told to get in the tub and the spray is turned on. He expects to be handed some soap, but the men lather him up.
‘ I can wash myself, I’ve…’
He is once again clocked in the jaw and he doesn´t black out completely, but there is a grey haze in his vision and one of the man keeps him up by his collar while they continue their work.
When he is a bit more steady on his knees, he is told to lay backwards in the tub. Mac doesn´t like to be this vulnerable, but he also doesn’t want to be punished anymore, so he does as he is told.
One of the men lathers his face with shaving crème and shaves him. It hurts where he hits bumps and bruises, but Mac stays still.
When they are done, they dry him, comb his hair and send him back.
‘Was he a good boy?’
‘He tried.’
The man pulls him closer by his collar and Mac shuffles closer not wanting to be suffocated.
‘Frank told me you would clean up nice, he didn´t lie. And he also didn´t lie about bruises becoming you.’
The man gently touches the black eye and Mac flinches, expecting another blow. He can´t help shivering, being naked and still damp from the bath. But there is no pain, the touch stays gentle and confuses Mac.
‘I won’ hurt you if you co-operate, well not too much, anyway. I want you to eat something and then to bed.’
He clips a leash on Mac´s collar and Mac couldn´t have been more humiliated. He tries to get up, but a boot in his back sends him back to the floor. He can hear the henchmen snicker when he crawls towards the next room. The carpet is much ticker and softer here. There is a chair and table, on it waits a plate with steaming food. Mac´s collar is fastened to the table leg and he needs to stay kneeling next to the chair. He wonders how many people have been in this position, since there is a bolt placed in the heavy table. The man sits down and starts eating. Mac can smell the food and his stomach growls, making the man chuckle.
‘Hungry?’
Mac nods, there is no need to pretend. He needs the calories if he wants to keep up his strength. The man hands him a bite size piece of steak. Mac stares at it contemplating if he will let himself sink this low.
‘Now or never,’ the man warns.
Mac extends his hand but the food is pulled away.
‘No, you don´t use your hands. Do it again and you will find yourself shackled again or worse.’
The food is offered again and Mac takes the food with his mouth. It is delicious and his face must show it, because the man chuckles again.
‘Good, isn´t it?’
He feeds Mac more steak, some pieces of potato and broccoli. Mac could eat more, but the man explains he will be sick if he eats too much after all the drugging. Mac knows he is right, intellectually he knows, but he is still hungry.
When a glass of water is presented, he drinks and the moment he does, he knows it is spiked again. He wants to pull back, but a hand behind his head encourages him to keep drinking.
‘You’re a good boy, you please me, I think I will keep you.’
The words fire something in Mac, they stir his rebellious side, but it is clear the drugs are fast working, because he has to steady himself against the table and the floor when a wave of dizziness hits him.
‘Come, you can rest now.’
* * *
Characters: Macgyver, Jack Dalton, Matty, Riley, OMC
Warning: non-consenual, rape, but not graphic
Spoilers: none
Rating: explicit
Genre: hurt/comfort, loneliness, kidnapping, non-consensual drugging, non-consensual sex, gunshot wounds
Author's Notes: This fic fills the ‘wild card = rape/con non’ square on my H/C Bingo card.
Word Count: ~1275
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine…
Summary: What if Mac and Jack are taken by some arms dealers? Will they be able to get away from them?
This ficlet can also be found on AO3.
Mac groans, he is stiff and hurting, if they would only leave him alone so he could gather his thoughts, but they keep beating him, with the occasional tazing. He´s hungry and thirsty and he could really use a shower. His mind is so preoccupied that he doesn’t see a new blow coming, it hits him hard on the jaw and he blacks out for a moment.
When he comes to, the men step to the side, revealing Frank.
‘You are tougher than I would have given you. I like you, maybe I should just keep you instead of selling you.’
‘Go to hell,’ Mac spits out.
Frank looks unimpressed, ‘or maybe not.’
Frank holds a bottle of water in front of him and Mac only glares at it. He knows it is spiked, but his body needs the water and they will drug him anyway, there isn´t much he can do being bound as he is. So he moves his head towards the bottle, indicating he will drink it willingly. The bottle is tipped and Mac greedily drinks until the bottle is empty. He is pulled into a kneeling position.
‘Bruises become you, boy.’ A shudder runs through him when Frank lets his hand run over his chest and stomach. A flash startles Mac, but for some reason it doesn´t bothers him as much as it should. He just blinks, he can feel the drugs slowly taking over his mind, making him waver on his knees until everything goes black and he goes limp.
* * *
Waking up is as bad as all the previous times. His head is fuzzy and he has a hard time concentrating. He hates being drugged. Voices filter through, but it is not clear what they are saying. He tries to move and moans when pain shoots through him.
‘Shut up,’ a blow hits his jaw, ‘I don´t want to hear a peep out of you, understood?’
‘Fuck you,’ Mac grits out defiantly. Another hit and kick to his ribs, leaves him panting.
‘I don´t like to repeat myself, pet.’
‘I am not a pet.’ He spats out.
It only earns him a kick to the abdomen. His breath stocks and he curls in on himself.
‘Breath! They told me your tough, you know how to deal with it!’
Mac is in too much pain to taunt the man further, so he just nods. It is only now that Mac realizes they switched his bindings for heavy steel shackles. While he is pulled to his knees, he realizes the manacles are welded on, there is no keyhole. He is glad he wasn´t awake for that, the downside is that he isn´t getting out of these any time soon. His ankles had the same treatment, next to the fact that they are easy to tether him down, they are also actually weighing him down.
Mac is pulled from his thoughts when a hand strikes his face. He can taste blood, but doesn´t make a noise. He is getting fed up with being used as a punching back.
‘Good boy, you weren`t paying attention.’
Mac looks down, not meeting the man´s eyes, another rule they enforced brutally in the first couple of days he was in their custody. His body is hurt enough and he wants the pain to stop.
‘I want him cleaned up, he’s filthy and he reeks.’
Mac is pushed on his hands and knees and told to crawl to the bathroom. Every fiber in him tells him to resist, but he is just too worn down and hurting and they are with too many. He knows he needs to pick his battles, this isn´t one of them. He crawls into the bathroom and his filthy clothes are cut from his body. He can feel his cheeks heat up, but the two men accompanying him don´t seem to be fazed. He is told to get in the tub and the spray is turned on. He expects to be handed some soap, but the men lather him up.
‘ I can wash myself, I’ve…’
He is once again clocked in the jaw and he doesn´t black out completely, but there is a grey haze in his vision and one of the man keeps him up by his collar while they continue their work.
When he is a bit more steady on his knees, he is told to lay backwards in the tub. Mac doesn´t like to be this vulnerable, but he also doesn’t want to be punished anymore, so he does as he is told.
One of the men lathers his face with shaving crème and shaves him. It hurts where he hits bumps and bruises, but Mac stays still.
When they are done, they dry him, comb his hair and send him back.
‘Was he a good boy?’
‘He tried.’
The man pulls him closer by his collar and Mac shuffles closer not wanting to be suffocated.
‘Frank told me you would clean up nice, he didn´t lie. And he also didn´t lie about bruises becoming you.’
The man gently touches the black eye and Mac flinches, expecting another blow. He can´t help shivering, being naked and still damp from the bath. But there is no pain, the touch stays gentle and confuses Mac.
‘I won’ hurt you if you co-operate, well not too much, anyway. I want you to eat something and then to bed.’
He clips a leash on Mac´s collar and Mac couldn´t have been more humiliated. He tries to get up, but a boot in his back sends him back to the floor. He can hear the henchmen snicker when he crawls towards the next room. The carpet is much ticker and softer here. There is a chair and table, on it waits a plate with steaming food. Mac´s collar is fastened to the table leg and he needs to stay kneeling next to the chair. He wonders how many people have been in this position, since there is a bolt placed in the heavy table. The man sits down and starts eating. Mac can smell the food and his stomach growls, making the man chuckle.
‘Hungry?’
Mac nods, there is no need to pretend. He needs the calories if he wants to keep up his strength. The man hands him a bite size piece of steak. Mac stares at it contemplating if he will let himself sink this low.
‘Now or never,’ the man warns.
Mac extends his hand but the food is pulled away.
‘No, you don´t use your hands. Do it again and you will find yourself shackled again or worse.’
The food is offered again and Mac takes the food with his mouth. It is delicious and his face must show it, because the man chuckles again.
‘Good, isn´t it?’
He feeds Mac more steak, some pieces of potato and broccoli. Mac could eat more, but the man explains he will be sick if he eats too much after all the drugging. Mac knows he is right, intellectually he knows, but he is still hungry.
When a glass of water is presented, he drinks and the moment he does, he knows it is spiked again. He wants to pull back, but a hand behind his head encourages him to keep drinking.
‘You’re a good boy, you please me, I think I will keep you.’
The words fire something in Mac, they stir his rebellious side, but it is clear the drugs are fast working, because he has to steady himself against the table and the floor when a wave of dizziness hits him.
‘Come, you can rest now.’
* * *