WHO: Mello (
virucide) & Brian Moser (
salvationdenied) -- open to Matt (
lungrot) via phone, if he'd like!
WHAT: Revenge. (See
this.)
WHERE: The center of town, and then an anonymous hotel room.
WHEN: Day 75, late at night.
WARNINGS: Very, very graphic violence. This is rape, so proceed at your own risk.
(
will you tell us that you're okay? )
--did I do something to piss you off?
Oh, no, of course not. Mello's expression collapsed into one of absolute contempt. Of course breaking his hand, tying him up with nylon rope, stabbing said broken hand and then sexually assaulting him wasn't going to piss Mello off. But both of them already knew the truth, knew he was just. Messing around. Spreading this thin, extending the torture. Whatever.
At the command, the blond's brow furrowed, even as his body acted against his will, hips rolling forward for more of that vile hand around him -- and he had to swallow his disgust. "...What?"
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"He loves it, Matthew. Look at him. Look at how he's moving, and god, he's so tight-- he's so--" Brian laughs, the camera zooming in on Mello's face. "How small were you, Matthew, really? He's barely stretched." Laughter, high and tinny. "He is-- well, was... practically brand new."
He continues to press in, video on Mello's face.
"Mello-mello.." When the blond looks up, Brian pulls out and pushes in deep again. "Tell Matthew, tell your Matthew that you love him."
The words come out in a hiss, in a soft bubbling hiss that rises like vapor, vile and rotten, from his mouth.
"Tell Matt that you love him, Mello, and... say goodbye."
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