Chapter 2 The key in the lock was so quiet that neither boy heard it. Nor did they see the door swing wide on silent hinges. A flashlight beam played over them, the two so entangled it was hard to say where one stopped and the other started. Mutterings could be heard behind the man with the flashlight and he turned to quiet the men as they pushed up close to get a look over his shoulder. "Damn!! Fucking fags!"one voice carried through the room. Lance sat up straight in the bed, his terror evident. Justin sighed in his sleep and tried to curl up tighter. Suddenly the overhead light came on and the men crowded into the room. Lance couldn't take his eyes off of the five men, the hatred and disgust written clearly on their faces. Justin's gasp as he finally came awake enough to see what was going on, sounded in the quiet room. "Lance, what..." "Shut up, you little fag," the leader barked. Justin cowered, drawing closer to Lance, but not saying a word.  Lance reached to take his hand, but one of the men approached the bed and grabbed Justin's curls, yanking hard and bringing tears to his eyes. He reached up, his fingers trying to loosen the man's grip and cried out in pain. Lance, shaken from his daze by the fear in Justin's voice, hit out at the man, shouting, "Leave him alone." He wasn't prepared for the powerful back-handed slap that split his lip and knocked him back on the bed. "Stop.  Everyone. Let go of the kid." At the sharp command, the man dropped Justin onto the bed and he scrambled back pressing himself against Lance, whimpering and rubbing his scalp. Both young men watched, eyes wide with fear, hardly daring to breathe, terrified of what would come next. The leader stepped forward. "You damned fags.  You made a big mistake stopping in this town.  You just let yourselves in for a world of hurt." Lance was too horrified to speak.  He thought of Matthew Sheppard and his blood ran cold. He looked down at Justin and saw the tears flowing freely. Lance was more afraid for Justin than for himself. It was Justin's first experience with the hate that they would face if they chose to make their love public. Lance wanted to weep for what he knew was to come. "Get up and get dressed," the leader ordered.  They hesitated and in those few moments, Lance studied the man.  He was an average guy— no horns, no pitchfork, no forked tail— he just looked normal.  It was his eyes that gave him away— he had mean, angry eyes that were filled with loathing for these two young men, that judged them as evil, that said being gay might even be an offense punishable by death.  Lance had seen that look in other eyes, on other faces, and he shuddered. The man they would come to know as Fist stepped to the bed, grabbed Justin's hair again and dragged him onto the floor. He tried to gain his footing, to stop the torment, but he stumbled and fell to his knees. "How convenient!"Fist laughed harshly and in seconds he had his cock freed and ordered, "Suck it, boy, you like it so much!" Justin struggled to get out of the man's grasp, pushing away despite the pain. "Fighting ain't gonna help, boy," and with that he delivered a blow to Justin's cheek that knocked him to the floor. "Never mind. Later'll do.  Get up and get dressed. NOW!" Justin pushed himself to his knees and stayed there, panting for a moment. Strong hands hauled him to his feet and clothes were tossed at him. He looked at Lance who had been restrained from helping him. "Jus," he whispered, "Oh God, no." That beautiful face was already showing a dark purple bruise on his cheek and blood dripped from his nose. Justin's pleading look tore through his heart but he couldn't pull away from the two men holding his arms. "God don't want nothing to do with you fags," the leader spit out. "Let him go, boys, he's gotta get dressed." Turning to Lance, he added, "You like how your boy looks now? Well, if you go to him, there'll be more where that came from." Dressing rapidly, they faced their captors. As their hands were tied behind their backs, the leader kept up a steady commentary. "We don't tolerate flaming fairies in this town. We gonna teach you that your ways are wrong and when we're finished with you, you WILL be sorry you ever fucked with each other. Maybe they think it's OK in the big city to fornicate like you two but it ain't OK here. You two ever read the bible?" Lance sighed. When he had first come out to his parents, they had read to him from the bible and Lance had responded with Corinthians and said that was the kind of love he had for another man. He never said Justin's name, just that they loved one another with the kind of love St. Paul talked about. Lost in those thoughts, he didn't see one of the men cross the room quickly and deliver a blow to his stomach that doubled him over. "Listen to me, boy, and answer me when I speak to you!" Lance stood, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "Do you read the bible?" "Yes," he said simply and he could see Justin nodding, a scared look on his face. "So you know what it says about men being together?" "Yes," Lance replied, "but it also talks about love." This time he did see the man but there was nowhere to go. Another punch. He felt vomit rise but was determined not to do it here. So he swallowed hard and stood up once again. Justin was quivering now and tears dripped soundlessly down his face. "OK, let's go," the leader spat and the two young men were shoved out the door and into their own car.  Two of the men appeared with black hoods which were dropped over their heads and tied tightly. There were no openings at all and Justin who was claustrophobic, began struggling wildly. "Please don't, please don't, please don't..." he chanted in a panicked voice. Lance could hear Justin start to hyperventilate. "Please, he's claustrophobic," he begged, even knowing that appealing to human decency was wasted. "Justin, take deep breaths," he ordered in a firm voice. It was all he could do and it was killing him that he could not gather him into his arms and stroke the fear away. He heard Justin's breathing change a little and sighed with relief. The long deep breaths were harsh with the terror driving Justin but he was trying hard to listen to Lance. Justin closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He had never been so frightened in his  life. He had always been the pampered child, his mother's pet, always certain of love, always protected from harm. Then, as the youngest member of the group, he had four older brothers and a security team to keep him safe. Finally, this last year, Lance was there to soothe the hurts, to keep him from hurting himself. Now he felt alone and frightened, Lance so close but powerless to help. He had never felt so young, so ignorant of the ways of the world. A whimper escaped his lips and he bit down to try to hide his fear from the man driving their car. "Scared, sweetie?" came the mocking voice of Fist. "Maybe sucking dick would keep your mind off your troubles." Justin pressed his back into the seat as far as he could as if he could make himself disappear.  His sharp intake of breath further incited the man. "When we're alone, you'll wrap that pouty mouth around my cock and suck me off or you'll be sorry." "I thought this was against your religion," came Lance's muffled voice hoping to distract the man from Justin. He could feel the waves of terror emanating from his lover, anticipating the horror and knew Justin was picturing the act in detail. "Me? No way. I just hate fags. Seeing you two lying there together I wanted to throw up. If I have some fun along the way so much the better and it sure would be a pleasure to force pretty boy here to his knees, especially with you watching, Blondie." Lance groaned silently. He had made it worse. He could feel Justin shaking. "It's OK, Jus, just talk," he whispered. "No, it's not," Justin moaned. "Shut up back there or I'll stop the car and take both of you right here." The two men lapsed into silence sure that the man would do just that. The trip seemed endless. Lance went round and round trying to look for a means of escape but he always ended up in the same place. It was five to two even if either he or Justin had any real experience fighting. Their hands were tied and the hoods prevented sight. So, Lance, he asked himself mockingly, any suggestions? He admitted to himself that escape didn't seem likely at the moment but his love for Justin was so strong that he couldn't let it go even when it was hopeless. He edged closer to Justin hoping that the physical contact would calm him. He felt the boy shaking and his breaths came unevenly. Tears came to Lance's eyes. Despite the risk, he leaned into the younger man and whispered, "We'll be OK," hoping that it wasn't a lie. Justin whimpered in response and pressed up close to Lance's side. They remained that way for the rest of the ride. When the engine shut off, Lance still had not come up with any ideas, so he simply allowed himself to be dragged out of the car. Suddenly he heard Justin's terrorized voice,  "Lance, where are you?" Before he could respond, he heard the mocking sound of Fist, in a high falsetto, "Lance, where are you?" Justin's weeping followed. Lance pulled away sharply, determined to reach his lover, to follow the sound. Caught by surprise, the two men holding him released their grasp. Lance lurched in what he hoped was the right direction, determined to touch Justin once before the men recovered. Instead, he felt a blow that caused him to sink to his knees just before it all went to black. Justin was completely panicked. He heard Lance's muffled groan and then nothing. "Lance?" Nothing. "Lance?" He jumped when a voice hissed in his ear, "Keep moving. Lover boy's OK. Maybe a little headache is all." Justin tried to force one foot in front of the other but he seemed to have no control over his body any more. A hard shove finally started him forward, but it was the two sets of arms that provided the movement. He heard a door open and then he was sent flying, landing heavily on his side. Pain shot through him driving the breath out. He lay still. He heard the hard thump of another body and heard a tortured groan from Lance. "Lance?" he called softly. When there was no answer, he said it a little louder, "Lance, are you OK?" Through clenched teeth, he heard Lance say, "Not OK but not dead. You?" "I'm OK. Just really, really scared." "I know, baby.  Hang in there." Lance couldn't see Justin shaking his head no. "Make some noise and I'll find you." "Please, please, please...." he repeated endlessly as Lance moved toward the sound of his voice. Finally, he bumped into the boy huddled on the floor and sank to his knees. "Justin, stop that now," he directed, fearing that Justin was losing all control. The words trailed off and were replaced by a hiccuping weeping that frightened Lance just as badly. Somehow he managed to get Justin between his legs and the boy leaned back into him, the shaking as strong as ever. Despite the circumstances, they both dozed, the emotions of the night draining them.  Sometime later a door banged open, bringing them to awareness. "Jesus Christ, you two homos  can't stay away from each other, huh? Well, pretty boy, time to get to know a real man." Justin's gasp excited Fist and he could feel the warmth starting in his groin as he thought about what he was going to do with the little fairy and with the boyfriend watching, too. Lance hissed in Justin's ear, "Don't let him know he's getting to you. It's a turn on to guys like him." Justin whispered back, "I don't know if I can stop it. I'm so ..." His words were cut off as he was flung away and Lance was roughly dragged to his feet and shoved forward. The relief he felt as the hood was removed was short-lived. He bit his lip as he stared at the leather collar with the leash attached and jerked his head , trying to prevent Fist from putting it on him. He was unsuccessful and once the collar was in place, the much heavier man yanked him to the wall and fastened the length of chain to a hook there. "There now, Blondie. Enjoy the show!" the older man sneered and turned his attention toward Justin who had drawn himself into a ball, hoping to become invisible. Fist reached him in two steps and snatched the hood off. Justin blinked in the light and then shut his eyes, trying to block out reality.  "Fuck you, pretty boy. Open your eyes!" Justin shook his head and tucked his chin into his chest. "Suit yourself," Fist said and then as if by magic, a knife appeared and he had slashed Lance's arm. Lance couldn't stifle his groan quickly enough and Justin's eyes flew open, staring at the gash that now dripped bright red blood onto the floor. "More, honey?" Fist asked with a harsh laugh. Justin shook his head no. He met the man's eyes and bit his lip to keep from crying out. He was trying to heed Lance's advice but he was so thoroughly terrorized that he was having trouble simply breathing. Fist laughed again, "Little fag. Get up on your knees." It was difficult with his hands bound behind his back, but he complied, afraid of what else Fist would do to hurt Lance and Justin would sacrifice anything to keep that from happening. "Good boy," he was told, as the man patted him on the head. Then without warning, Fist curled his hand into the boy's hair and forced his head back. "You're going to suck dick, kid. You're used to that right? I'll bet you can't wait— just like every other fag." With that, he opened his pants and  released his erection. Justin started to retch. Rage suffused Fist's face and he let go of Justin and turned toward Lance. "No, wait. I'm sorry," Justin cried, swallowing hard to prevent the bile from rising in his throat. Fist returned with a satisfied grin and once again grabbed the golden curls, making sure Justin couldn't move. "One fuck up and lover boy over there gets it again. Understand?" Justin nodded and took the man's length into his mouth. He didn't have to do more than that as the man pumped into the moistness, coming almost immediately.  The total helplessness of the two boys was a huge turn on to this animal, relishing their fear, wanting to make them sob in terror.  Panting, Fist ground out, "Swallow it or lick it off the floor." Justin gagged but obeyed. Fist didn't bother to zip his pants. He left Justin kneeling, eyes on the floor, ashamed to look up and sauntered over to Lance. His green eyes shimmered with tears as he watched Justin's suffering. He knew what it was like to be forced, to be treated like meat and he didn't want that for Justin. Fist planted a sloppy kiss on Lance's lips and whispered, "Thanks for sharing." "You bastard. Leave him alone. He's just a baby." "That's what makes it so good, asshole." A knock on the door interrupted him. He hurriedly zipped up as the door opened. Lance recognized the desk clerk and realized that once again it was their mere existence that stoked people's rage and judgement. Joe wrinkled his nose, recognizing the scent in the room. "You finished here? The boss wants to have a meet in the other room." Fist nodded and patted Justin's head on the way out. "I'll be back for Act II, sweetie." Then they were gone. Justin sank to the floor sobbing as Lance watched helplessly. It was a long time before Justin's sobs died and he looked up at Lance afraid of what he would see there. What he saw was his own pain reflected in Lance's eyes. There was none of the disgust that he had expected.  He turned away. Tears fell unchecked. "Look at me, Justin." Justin shook his head. Despite what he had seen in his lover's eyes, Justin was convinced that Lance would hate him for not fighting, for allowing the man to do what he did.. "Look at me, Jus," Lance said quietly. Justin met the eyes that he loved so much and saw that love reflected back. "You don't hate me? Are you mad?" "God, Baby, no, I love you. I love you so much and I'm so sorry I can't stop him. And neither can you," he said correctly interpreting Justin's self-judgement. The two deep blue pools filled with more tears, this time of gratitude that he had Lance.  But the disgust for himself was still there. Justin curled into a ball, hoping he could disappear, wishing they had never come to this place.  He wanted to go to Lance but he couldn't, he felt too dirty, too disgusting to let Lance near him. Why didn't he fight harder?  Any rational thought about why he had complied flew out of his head, its place taken by the shame that was pouring over him. As if Justin's thoughts had been said aloud, Lance responded to them, "Justin, you did it for me, so he wouldn't hurt me anymore. Please don't hate yourself for that.  Please.  God, Justin, please don't." The anguish in his voice was so clear, so strong, but it didn't penetrate the miasma of self-loathing that surrounded Justin.  And there was nothing Lance could do but pray that the animals wouldn't destroy Justin completely.  Their beautiful night of lovemaking seemed like a distant memory. continue menu