Page 70 of Beneath His Robes

“Good catch, boys,” he said, and the group of men preened like fucking peacocks. “You gonna dance for us, boy?” he said to me, using his baton to jerk my face toward him. “Or is that something you only do for your Little Priest?”

My breath caught in my throat at the mention of Elias, and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, unwilling to show them a reaction from me.

Elias. I am so sorry.

The hard baton was pushed into my shoulder, making me stagger on my feet. The men grabbed at my body, using my limbs like a puppet for their enjoyment. I felt sick, nausea bubbling as they swayed me back and forth and laughed at me.

“Look at the little Glitter Goblin. He’s a bit rusty, Tex. Maybe he can’t dance in all these clothes.”

Nausea increased, tears stinging my eyelids as the jumpsuit was roughly yanked off my body. They didn’t stop. My muscle shirt was gripped with large, rough hands, and pulled so hard that it left cuts on my skin where the fabric resisted.

I could laugh at the feeling of peace I had earlier tonight. The bubble of hope I held onto that this wouldn’t be so awful after all, but the group’s mindless grasp and the echoes of laughter confirmed this was nothing but true hell.

“That’s what you’re workin’ with? Ha!” the cop said, gripping my dick in his hand and holding it for the men to all laugh. “I can’t see why a priest would break such precious vows for that thing.”

I let the tears fall freely down my face. No matter what I did, there was no hiding from the shame and their cackling. What did it matter?

“Maybe he’s a grower!” one of the men shouted, and that sinking feeling was more like lead.

The men took turns fondling my body, jerking my skin into painful angles, shoving me down, and mounting my body when I struggled against them. I was locked under the officer. His large form was suffocating as he sat on top of my stomach. The others were holding me down by my arms and legs. I was kept immobile while the man with the badge worked my dick with his hands.

Horror and shame made me ready to vomit when my body responded, standing erect despite my mind screaming, ‘No!’

The cop laughed harder at his achievement, poking my appendage with his weapon and egging the others to join.

“Please,” I said, my voice a panted betrayal of the pain and humiliation. “Stop.”

The cop let go of my sex, turning his fat body around on my torso to sneer at me. “What? You think you’re too good for us? Is that Priestly Boy better? How big is he? Maybe I can do ya a favor.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. His eyes were swirling with excitement, his own erection poking into his pants. He stroked his baton lovingly, and that wicked smile became even darker. “Open up like you do the dumb fucks who paid you to, boy,” he said, and without warning, the baton was shoved deep into my mouth.

I fought against his hold, pulling with all my might at the men restraining my arms above my head.

“There ya go. Good boy. Nice and wet, yes.”

More tears fell as I choked on the weapon shoved so deeply into my mouth. It cut the corner of my lips, and still, he pushed it further in. I couldn’t breathe, and I prayed for a minute that I would just die. I didn’t want what was coming next.

As easy as a fucking pancake, I was flipped onto my stomach, the men working harder to hold me down. I fought with everything I had. Struggled, and squirmed on the ground, trying to get to the hallway where someone would see me and stop this.

Or maybe they would join in.

I shut my mouth, realizing there was no freedom. No way to get away. I was…

The pain of the baton was like a sharp bullet entering my body. I panted, unable to adjust to the foreign object. I could feel the warmth of blood and shook as it spilled down my thighs. The laughter continued, and I vomited on the ground. I couldn’t hold myself up anymore. The pounding that continued was too much, and my body gave out. I couldn’t fight anymore. I couldn’t run.

I was numb, my body releasing my shame and pain onto the ground, coating my stomach and creating another round of loud cackling from the men around me. I stared at the wall across from me, away from the sea of monsters, and thought of Elias. Of his lips and how sweet he tasted in that snow-filled forest, it felt so long ago that he was in my arms. I was able to feel his warmth on my skin.

I don’t feel warmth now—only the coldness of their laughter and the complete feeling of numbness.

The men’s satisfied, mocking, and cackling continued even after they stood up from my broken body. And long after, they left me in a shallow pool of my own blood and shame. It was an echo in my ears that remained in my mind as the sounds were bouncing inside my skull like a ping-pong ball. I tried to erase them, tried to think of Elias. Before the darkness took over, I saw Elias’s smile in my mind. His beautiful mouth whispered to me.

I love you, Ronan. It’s okay now—just sleep.

And I did.

ChapterTwenty-Three

Elias

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