Lost - Part Two
Sep. 5th, 2011 06:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indigo_angelsWarning: Explicit non-con. Not pleasant.
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Three hours saw the live feed from Face's prison transferred from the small laptop to the wide screen TV in the family room. At first BA had paled at Hannibal's request, but once his CO had explained that they needed the better resolution, they needed to be able to see as much of the surrounding room as possible in order to have any chance of finding out where Face was being held, he realised the painful sense of the order. The second thing that Hannibal had insisted on was that someone was there to watch the footage twenty four hours a day. “I don't want him alone,” he had explained to his men, “if he knows that the web cam is there, then he will assume we are with him. I don't want him disappointed.” BA nodded instantly, Murdock looked torn, his eyes drifting to the screen and the still figure of his friend, but he eventually nodded as well, knowing Hannibal was right, even though the last thing he wanted was to see Face like that.
_________
It was late afternoon, and despite BA and Hannibal going over the screen with a fine tooth comb, they had seen nothing at all that would tell them where Face was being held. At the back of his mind, Hannibal wondered why the kid hadn't tried to communicate with them, wondered if he did know that the web cam was there at all, or perhaps he'd been told there was no mic set up. Either way, Face hadn't moved, had hardly stirred at all in all the hours they had been watching him.
It was Hannibal's shift now; BA was resting with the intention of covering the night hours with Face while Murdock was attempting to pinpoint a location through the IP address, they’d managed to work out that Face was still in LA, but it was still a huge area to search. Hannibal was just sitting, watching the still figure on the screen in front of him and going over and over in his head who on earth could hate him this much that they would do this to Face.
The quiet ping of the email alarm caught his attention, and he saw another message from their mystery adversary drop into the inbox. He sighed slightly, then glanced at Face to make sure he was still as he'd been all afternoon, before he cautiously opened it.
'Smith.
Thought you might be wondering what my plans are with your boy there, how I am going to kill him. Quite simply; I'm not.'
Hope instantly flared in Hannibal's chest, only to be cruelly crushed in the next second.
'I am going to just let him die. No food, no water, he won't last long. But that's not to say I won't have some fun with him first.
You made some pretty unpleasant accusations about me, Smith, back in the day. Got me thrown out on my ear, only just avoided prison.
I've always sworn I would get my revenge on you for sticking your righteous nose in where it wasn't wanted, but it may be some consolation to you that you were right about me.
Enjoy the show.'
Hannibal's mind was in a whirl, pieces clicking into place like an automated jigsaw. Years back, many years back, Hannibal had blown the whistle on a Marine colonel that one of his boys confided had raped him. Colonel John Jefferson. The whole incident had been hushed up, Jefferson was a Marine icon, the stuff that young boys' dreams were made of, also some nightmares though unfortunately. He'd agreed to go quietly if no charges were brought, no investigation followed through. Hannibal thought the whole thing stunk to high heaven, that justice had not been meted out for Corporal Harvey. In fact, Hannibal heard that Harvey had blown his own head off later that year when he was at home on leave. It was a travesty.
But Jefferson had gone, disappeared into civilian life and Hannibal had never thought he would hear about him again. How wrong he had been. It was now obvious that this whole job was just a scam to get them where he wanted them to be. A damn good scam as well, had fooled him and Face, and the pair of them had vetted this client so, so carefully. He shook his head.
But, now they had a lead, now they had somewhere to start. “BA! Murdock!” he yelled as, with a last quick glance at Face's still figure, he bolted from the room.
___________
Fifteen minutes he had been gone, that was all. Just long enough to quickly rely the information to his men, just long enough to get them both started on a trawl of information and contacts, anything to find out a last known address for John Jefferson. With that done, and feeling a lot more confident than he had in a long while, Hannibal headed back to the family room to check on Face.
The second he got to the doorway, his eyes flicked up to the screen and he froze in shock; Face was no longer alone, was no longer chained to the ceiling. Walking forward in a horror, Hannibal took it all in. His boy was now laid across a barrel which appeared to be secured to the floor in a different part of the room. He was facing down, but the hood had been removed, and Hannibal could see a blood soaked gag tied tightly in his mouth. Both wrists and ankles were manacled to the floor, and whether or not the mic had been working before, it was now, as Hannibal could hear his laboured breathing as he fought back the panic with every breath. He was also naked, the filthy shorts laid on the ground next to him, and standing behind him, in the V of his open legs, was a figure.
Hannibal bit back the impulse he had to yell for the others, to run and leap into his car, scream off to the rescue, to put his fist through the screen as none of those actions would help his poor, brave boy, whose eyes were flicking constantly between the camera he knew damn well was there, and the monster standing between his legs. Hannibal knew that there was nothing he could do here, absolutely nothing except stand and watch and hope to every god ever worshipped that Jefferson would stick to his plan and not kill his boy.
“I'm feeling benevolent today, Peck,” a deep, sarcastic voice sounded through the speakers and Hannibal shuddered, definitely Jefferson, “so I'm gonna let you have a little lube.” He reached out and Hannibal could see him fiddling with something far too high to be any part of his own body. He held his breath as Jefferson turned and smiled straight at the camera. “Sorry, Smith old buddy, I keep forgetting you are there. I'm sure you've worked out who I am now, so there is no point hiding any more. Anyway, will be much more fun for you to see how much I am going to enjoy fucking your boy here, maybe even more than I would have done if I could have gotten close to him back in Kuwait, but you always had him far too close for me to get near in those days...”
Hannibal shuddered again. He remembered the looks Jefferson used to give Face back then, tried to convince himself it had just been part of his general paranoia, but now, no, much more than that. But at least Hannibal had been able to protect Face then, back when he was just a fragile boy, now, as much as he would always be Hannibal's kid, he was undeniably a man, would be able to handle this horror much better now than back then. But of course it was still going to be a horror, one that Hannibal could do nothing more but watch.
“But now,” Jefferson's voice was dripping in lust, “he's mine. Every fucking inch of him, to do with whatever I want.” Hannibal's stomach churned as Jefferson trailed a finger down Face's vertebrae and then let it slip into the groove of his ass. “And what I want to do now,” he whispered, turning to smile at Hannibal through the webcam, “is open him up, nice and slow, with this.”
He held a dildo up to the camera, smirking behind it. Hannibal hardly gave the slick, black dildo a second glance before moving his eyes past to glare at Jefferson's smug face, remembering ever angle of it, vowing revenge on every plane – as soon as he got his boy the hell out of there. And then Jefferson was moving again, lining himself up behind Face once more, holding the dildo up so that he knew he could see it, “You ready for this then, Peck?” he gloated.
Something suspiciously like, “Fuck you,” sounded from behind the gag and Hannibal almost smiled to himself. That was his boy, but sometimes he just wished that Face would learn to keep his mouth shut...
Jefferson chuckled and then traced his fingers down between the rounded flesh until he found what he was looking for and lined the dildo up. Suddenly he was torn away from his task and instead glanced up at the camera, “Hey, Garcia, bring the fucking camera round here, I want Smith to have a good view.”
Hannibal's blood ran cold when he realised that Jefferson had obviously brought his own camera man along for the whole production. Sick.
The silent, invisible Garcia did as he was told and Hannibal watched as Face's eyes tracked the camera and he could see the desperation in them, the quiet plea for help. Hannibal just held onto them, not looking away, trying to reach out, give whatever support he could, ignoring Jefferson and his sick games.
“There now, that's not too bad is it?” Hannibal refused to look back, kept his eyes fixed on Face's wide blue ones, it almost felt like the kid was looking right into his soul.
Suddenly there was a grunt from Jefferson and a muffled scream from Face, his eyes screwing themselves shut, even Garcia jerked, almost dropping the camera and fresh fear clawed at Hannibal's chest. Jefferson laughed, “Yeah, sorry about that, patience never was my strong point, but that's better now, hey? Get it in nice a quick.”
Hannibal could see Face's shoulders jerking rhythmically as Jefferson pistoned the dildo viciously inside his boy and suddenly the full horror of the situation hit him with the force of a tsunami. In two strides he was at the wall mounted screen, his fingers reaching for Face trying, wishing, desperate to reach him, and then he was backing off again as the rage reasserted itself once more, back as far as the doorway, eyes still glued on his boy's face as he yelled to the others, “Hey! Hurry it up, for fuck's sake, we need to find him and get him the hell out of there!”
There was a pause of silence, before BA yelled back, “What's goin' on man?” and Murdock's concerned face appeared in the doorway.
“Boss?” he asked, eyes trying to flick around Hannibal's figure and into the family room. “He okay?”
“No,” Hannibal snapped back, trying just as hard to block Murdock's view, “so I need some answers Captain, seriously fast!”
“We workin' on it, man!” BA yelled back and Murdock just met Hannibal's panicked eyes and in that second understood everything. He shook his head, the horror and sadness clear in his eyes and turned back, not wanting to see or hear anything more.
Hannibal turned and stalked back to the screen, hands curled into impotent fists just as Jefferson positioned himself right in front of Face, the quiet droning of the dildo, probably left jammed in place, just audible over Face’s breathing. He looked up and grinned right into the camera and then his hands went to the belt of his trousers. Hannibal knew just what was coming next, and so, it appeared by the wild look in his eyes, did Face.
“Okay, Peck, I'm sure you've done this plenty of times before if the rumours I heard in Kuwait are anything to go by, so I'm expecting good things.” He pulled his hard cock through the fly of his trousers and held it out towards Face, tracing his lips and the edge of the gag with the almost purpling head and leaving shining wet trails in his wake. “A don't even think of biting, son. I've got another one of those beauties back there, with little studs in and I swear I'll use it on you if I feel even a hint of teeth. Understand?” Face nodded, his eyes glaring a death wish at his captor. “And it's also in your best interests to use as much spit as possible; I'm not wasting any more lube on you today – you got that?”
Again Face nodded furiously and Jefferson reached out to pull down his gag, “Open up pretty,” he taunted as he leaned in.
Face lifted his head, obligingly moving his mouth into position, but shouting “Venus!” loud and hoarse in the split second before Jefferson shoved himself in.
Any anger that might have been felt at his captive's unexpected outburst dissolved as Face instantly set his mouth and tongue to work at full capacity. Jefferson's head rolled back on his shoulders and he let out a long sigh of pleasure. Hannibal's stomach rolled at the sight, but he knew what the kid was doing, knew just how good that mouth could feel and knew that Face was trying to get Jefferson to shoot his load nice and quick. It was a brave, but unsuccessful effort, as it seemed that Jefferson soon cottoned onto Face's plan as well and withdrew with a vicious backhand that followed straight through.
“Naughty boy,” he hissed, shoving the gag back in place as Face was still reeling from his blow. He moved out of Face's eye line, back behind him, but Hannibal could see Face straining to follow him with his eyes. “Don't think you'll get out of it that easily, this has been a long time coming, and now I need to punish you.”
Hannibal’s stomach churned. Jefferson stood for a moment, back in the V of Face’s legs and tilted his head as if considering something. Then he smiled, a cold, lust fuelled smile that had Hannibal’s heart pounding against his ribs. “Don’t think we need this anymore hey, pretty?” he reached down and brutally yanked the vibrator out of Face, drawing a pained grunt from his captive at the same time. Then he looked back up at the camera, “Right, Garcia, round here now, and angle those lights down, Smith needs a really good view of this...”
There was perhaps a minute or two of shuffling and shots of the floor and people’s feet, Face’s bare legs and the surrounding darkness before Garcia arranged everything to Jefferson’s liking. Then all there was was a close up of Face’s thighs and his ass and the private space in between, now streaked with shining lube and blood. Hannibal bit down on his sudden nausea. “Watch this, Smith,” Jefferson’s disembodied voice gloated, “I think you’ll like it. Peck might not,” he laughed, “but I’m sure you will enjoy the show.”
A hand crept into the shot and rested on the small of Face’s back, followed by another which was shining in lube, right up to the wrist. Hannibal’s breath caught tight in his throat as he suddenly worked out what was about to happen.
“No,” he whispered, leaning closer to the TV, one hand on the wall next to it, trying to reach Face through the screen.
Of course there was nothing he could do but watch as Jefferson brought all his fingers together in a point and, spreading Face’s cheeks with the other hand, started to push in. Hannibal could see Face struggling against his chains, hear his little grunts of pain, even over the harsh breathing coming from both Jefferson and Garcia who were both obviously finding the entire experience intensely erotic, but Jefferson didn’t stop. The progress was slow, tortuously relentless and Hannibal could just imagine the look on Jefferson’s putrid face as he watched his whole hand slowly disappear into his boy’s beautiful silken heat. Hannibal’s eyes stung with unshed tears.
And then he was as far in as he could go and Face had stopped struggling, even though Hannibal could see his back heaving up and down with every breath. “And there we are,” Jefferson’s voice was strained, “right inside. Fuck, Smith, he is glorious, so damn hot.” There was a sick little snigger and then the wrist that Hannibal could see disappearing into Face’s body slowly started to twist backwards and forwards, jerking in and out a little at the same time and Face’s desperate struggles and grunts of pain started up again.
“Leave him alone you fucking bastard,” Hannibal snarled, but of course no one could hear him.
“Ever heard of colorectal perforation, John?” Jefferson asked almost conversationally though the lust was obvious in his voice as he continued to twist his wrist back and forth. “It’s a tear in the wall of the rectum; causes acute pain, infection of the abdomen, eventual death if not treated.” Hannibal could almost see Jefferson shaking his head with mock seriousness. “Hell of a way to go...” He suddenly shoved his arm in hard, Face’s cry of pain perfectly audible through the gag and laughed as he started pulling out, fast and brutal. “But don’t worry,” he sarcastically reassured his audience as he came out with a last hard jerk, “My pretty here will be dead of dehydration before that could happen anyway.” Hannibal found himself blinking back tears.
Jefferson drifted off out of the shot. He could hear distant voices, probably Jefferson and the invisible Garcia, but he had no interest in listening to what they were saying, his eyes were fixed on Face’s back, watching as it heaved in and out with each breath, each breath that Hannibal knew contained a sob that Face was desperately holding inside.
But in far too short a moment they were back, Jefferson drying his hands on a towel, Garcia stepping back so that all of Face’s long body came back into shot and then came that smug smile, right at the camera. “Okay then Smith, think we’ve warmed him up nicely, yes? Think he’s ready for a good hard, fuck now.”
Face didn’t respond, his head was down, his back still heaving as Jefferson shuffled into place between his legs, opening his trousers and pushing them down around his thighs, hand taking his cock out and stroking it slowly. “Oh, fuck,” he looked up past the camera at his assistant. “We forgot those pills didn’t we? You know, the ones that will make sure that Peck here has a good time too.” Garcia didn’t respond, but Jefferson, still stroking his cock, lifted his other wrist and looked at his watch face, thinking hard. “Hmm. A bit late to go back now don’t you think?” the camera bobbed as Garcia nodded. “We’ll have to do that tomorrow; I do so want to watch him come on my cock.” He shook himself as if moving on from that delightful image and turned back to the camera. “Well, are you watching old man?” he asked, his voice was strained with the perverted desire running through his veins. “Ready to watch me take your boy?”
But Hannibal couldn't watch, not at all, couldn't even think about what was happening right before his eyes, what he was completely impotent to stop. He shuffled forward, tears blurring his vision until all he could see were Face's own eyes, turned to the camera now and pleading, and it was all Hannibal could do not to turn and run from that expression. But he wouldn't, he couldn't. Instead he just held on to those shining blue eyes and tried to be there, tried to let his boy, his love know that this wouldn't be the end, that this transgression would not go unpunished.
He saw the exact second that Jefferson took what was not his, saw the pain and the humiliation wash through Face's expression as his eyes slid shut.
“Open them up, baby,” Hannibal whispered at the screen, “open up and see me, I'm here, I'm always here and I swear I will get you.”
As if he could actually hear, Face opened his eyes and looked straight at Hannibal once more and together they rode it out, Hannibal almost able to feel that burning invasion in his own body, the pressure, the stretch. He wouldn't look at Jefferson, and neither would Face, eyes just locking with the camera, trying to escape down its lens and Hannibal knew that he was tuning out Jefferson's lust fuelled comments just as much as Hannibal was, until those comments suddenly stared accompanying blows to the back of Face's head.
“Fuck you, Peck!” Jefferson shouted, the impending orgasm making his voice thick, “Look at me while I fuck you! Let me see in your eyes that you know you belong to me now!”
But of course Face wouldn't look, wouldn't even turn his head, just kept his eyes fixed on the camera, fixed on Hannibal, even as the blows became more vicious.
“You little fucker!” Jefferson sneered and leaned forward, still driving himself home at a frantic pace and grabbed the back of Face's head, a huge handful of hair dragging his stare from the camera and onto the wall in front instead. “Garcia! Move that mirror, I want this little bastard to watch me own him!”
“But...” Garcia's frightened voice was heard for the first time, “the camera...”
“Put it on the fucking stand...” Jefferson hissed through gritted teeth, “and move that fucking mirror! I'm just about ready to burst here.”
Hannibal watched in wide eyed horror as Garcia scuttled to comply and soon a shadowy figure could be seen holding a huge mirror up in front of Face, who promptly closed his eyes. Jefferson, however, was too far gone to notice, and happy in the thought that now both Hannibal and Face were forced to watch him, he let himself go and came, ramming his hips brutally forward with every pulse of unwanted semen that shot straight into Face's waiting body.
And then it was over. Face let his head drop and Jefferson leaned over his naked back, breathing heavily as he came down from his high, Hannibal stood in front of the flat screen, white fingers gripping the mantelpiece as tears ran unnoticed down his cheeks. Garcia, meanwhile shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the huge mirror.
“Sir...” he whined which made Jefferson's head snap up, his blissful expression fading in an instant.
“Did he watch?” Jefferson barked, his hand reaching out to drag Face's head up once more.
Garcia meant to lie, he really did, in fact he actually wanted to lie, but sometimes he just wasn't quick enough and his silence was all Jefferson needed to know the truth. “Aargh!” he yelled out in fury and leaned forward, still sheathed in Face's body and shoved his head down, cracking it hard on the metal floor of the prison. Face went limp instantly and Hannibal’s hand reached out again, touching the screen gently, right over the blood leaking from the gash across his forehead.
Jefferson withdrew, turning his nose in disgust at the blood on his now flaccid cock and after wiping himself clean and fastening his trousers he walked back around to Face’s head and examined him carefully, swearing under his breath when he realised that he’d knocked his plaything out cold. He looked back at his watch and then turned into the shadows. “Come on Garcia,” he muttered tightly, “let's leave him to his sleep. He’ll be out for some time yet.” Garcia didn't move and Jefferson turned and sighed impatiently. “What?”
Hannibal watched in silence, willing them both just to go.
“You said I...” Garcia swallowed heavily, “You promised...”
Jefferson sighed again. “Oh, for fuck’s sake...” He hissed, but Garcia just stared at him. “Right!” Jefferson shook his head, “Just get on with it,” he spat, “and make it quick!”
Hannibal's heart sank as Garcia dropped the mirror and quickly hurried into position, unfastening his trousers as he scuttled around the unconscious body in front of him. Both Jefferson and Hannibal watched impartially as Garcia thrust himself hard into Face's limp body and, only thirty frantic seconds later, threw his head back and moaned as he came.
“Come on!” Jefferson barked the second he'd finished and suddenly the whole room was bathed in sunlight as the door opened. Jefferson stalked out of the door and, still trying to fasten his trousers as he ran, Garcia followed him. In a second, with a loud metallic clang, the doors shut and Face was left alone.
Hannibal stood still, immobile in shock, watching Face's prone figure, staring at every rise and fall of his back, mapping every breath and feeling more helpless than he could remember feeling ever in his entire life.
Next
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Three hours saw the live feed from Face's prison transferred from the small laptop to the wide screen TV in the family room. At first BA had paled at Hannibal's request, but once his CO had explained that they needed the better resolution, they needed to be able to see as much of the surrounding room as possible in order to have any chance of finding out where Face was being held, he realised the painful sense of the order. The second thing that Hannibal had insisted on was that someone was there to watch the footage twenty four hours a day. “I don't want him alone,” he had explained to his men, “if he knows that the web cam is there, then he will assume we are with him. I don't want him disappointed.” BA nodded instantly, Murdock looked torn, his eyes drifting to the screen and the still figure of his friend, but he eventually nodded as well, knowing Hannibal was right, even though the last thing he wanted was to see Face like that.
_________
It was late afternoon, and despite BA and Hannibal going over the screen with a fine tooth comb, they had seen nothing at all that would tell them where Face was being held. At the back of his mind, Hannibal wondered why the kid hadn't tried to communicate with them, wondered if he did know that the web cam was there at all, or perhaps he'd been told there was no mic set up. Either way, Face hadn't moved, had hardly stirred at all in all the hours they had been watching him.
It was Hannibal's shift now; BA was resting with the intention of covering the night hours with Face while Murdock was attempting to pinpoint a location through the IP address, they’d managed to work out that Face was still in LA, but it was still a huge area to search. Hannibal was just sitting, watching the still figure on the screen in front of him and going over and over in his head who on earth could hate him this much that they would do this to Face.
The quiet ping of the email alarm caught his attention, and he saw another message from their mystery adversary drop into the inbox. He sighed slightly, then glanced at Face to make sure he was still as he'd been all afternoon, before he cautiously opened it.
'Smith.
Thought you might be wondering what my plans are with your boy there, how I am going to kill him. Quite simply; I'm not.'
Hope instantly flared in Hannibal's chest, only to be cruelly crushed in the next second.
'I am going to just let him die. No food, no water, he won't last long. But that's not to say I won't have some fun with him first.
You made some pretty unpleasant accusations about me, Smith, back in the day. Got me thrown out on my ear, only just avoided prison.
I've always sworn I would get my revenge on you for sticking your righteous nose in where it wasn't wanted, but it may be some consolation to you that you were right about me.
Enjoy the show.'
Hannibal's mind was in a whirl, pieces clicking into place like an automated jigsaw. Years back, many years back, Hannibal had blown the whistle on a Marine colonel that one of his boys confided had raped him. Colonel John Jefferson. The whole incident had been hushed up, Jefferson was a Marine icon, the stuff that young boys' dreams were made of, also some nightmares though unfortunately. He'd agreed to go quietly if no charges were brought, no investigation followed through. Hannibal thought the whole thing stunk to high heaven, that justice had not been meted out for Corporal Harvey. In fact, Hannibal heard that Harvey had blown his own head off later that year when he was at home on leave. It was a travesty.
But Jefferson had gone, disappeared into civilian life and Hannibal had never thought he would hear about him again. How wrong he had been. It was now obvious that this whole job was just a scam to get them where he wanted them to be. A damn good scam as well, had fooled him and Face, and the pair of them had vetted this client so, so carefully. He shook his head.
But, now they had a lead, now they had somewhere to start. “BA! Murdock!” he yelled as, with a last quick glance at Face's still figure, he bolted from the room.
___________
Fifteen minutes he had been gone, that was all. Just long enough to quickly rely the information to his men, just long enough to get them both started on a trawl of information and contacts, anything to find out a last known address for John Jefferson. With that done, and feeling a lot more confident than he had in a long while, Hannibal headed back to the family room to check on Face.
The second he got to the doorway, his eyes flicked up to the screen and he froze in shock; Face was no longer alone, was no longer chained to the ceiling. Walking forward in a horror, Hannibal took it all in. His boy was now laid across a barrel which appeared to be secured to the floor in a different part of the room. He was facing down, but the hood had been removed, and Hannibal could see a blood soaked gag tied tightly in his mouth. Both wrists and ankles were manacled to the floor, and whether or not the mic had been working before, it was now, as Hannibal could hear his laboured breathing as he fought back the panic with every breath. He was also naked, the filthy shorts laid on the ground next to him, and standing behind him, in the V of his open legs, was a figure.
Hannibal bit back the impulse he had to yell for the others, to run and leap into his car, scream off to the rescue, to put his fist through the screen as none of those actions would help his poor, brave boy, whose eyes were flicking constantly between the camera he knew damn well was there, and the monster standing between his legs. Hannibal knew that there was nothing he could do here, absolutely nothing except stand and watch and hope to every god ever worshipped that Jefferson would stick to his plan and not kill his boy.
“I'm feeling benevolent today, Peck,” a deep, sarcastic voice sounded through the speakers and Hannibal shuddered, definitely Jefferson, “so I'm gonna let you have a little lube.” He reached out and Hannibal could see him fiddling with something far too high to be any part of his own body. He held his breath as Jefferson turned and smiled straight at the camera. “Sorry, Smith old buddy, I keep forgetting you are there. I'm sure you've worked out who I am now, so there is no point hiding any more. Anyway, will be much more fun for you to see how much I am going to enjoy fucking your boy here, maybe even more than I would have done if I could have gotten close to him back in Kuwait, but you always had him far too close for me to get near in those days...”
Hannibal shuddered again. He remembered the looks Jefferson used to give Face back then, tried to convince himself it had just been part of his general paranoia, but now, no, much more than that. But at least Hannibal had been able to protect Face then, back when he was just a fragile boy, now, as much as he would always be Hannibal's kid, he was undeniably a man, would be able to handle this horror much better now than back then. But of course it was still going to be a horror, one that Hannibal could do nothing more but watch.
“But now,” Jefferson's voice was dripping in lust, “he's mine. Every fucking inch of him, to do with whatever I want.” Hannibal's stomach churned as Jefferson trailed a finger down Face's vertebrae and then let it slip into the groove of his ass. “And what I want to do now,” he whispered, turning to smile at Hannibal through the webcam, “is open him up, nice and slow, with this.”
He held a dildo up to the camera, smirking behind it. Hannibal hardly gave the slick, black dildo a second glance before moving his eyes past to glare at Jefferson's smug face, remembering ever angle of it, vowing revenge on every plane – as soon as he got his boy the hell out of there. And then Jefferson was moving again, lining himself up behind Face once more, holding the dildo up so that he knew he could see it, “You ready for this then, Peck?” he gloated.
Something suspiciously like, “Fuck you,” sounded from behind the gag and Hannibal almost smiled to himself. That was his boy, but sometimes he just wished that Face would learn to keep his mouth shut...
Jefferson chuckled and then traced his fingers down between the rounded flesh until he found what he was looking for and lined the dildo up. Suddenly he was torn away from his task and instead glanced up at the camera, “Hey, Garcia, bring the fucking camera round here, I want Smith to have a good view.”
Hannibal's blood ran cold when he realised that Jefferson had obviously brought his own camera man along for the whole production. Sick.
The silent, invisible Garcia did as he was told and Hannibal watched as Face's eyes tracked the camera and he could see the desperation in them, the quiet plea for help. Hannibal just held onto them, not looking away, trying to reach out, give whatever support he could, ignoring Jefferson and his sick games.
“There now, that's not too bad is it?” Hannibal refused to look back, kept his eyes fixed on Face's wide blue ones, it almost felt like the kid was looking right into his soul.
Suddenly there was a grunt from Jefferson and a muffled scream from Face, his eyes screwing themselves shut, even Garcia jerked, almost dropping the camera and fresh fear clawed at Hannibal's chest. Jefferson laughed, “Yeah, sorry about that, patience never was my strong point, but that's better now, hey? Get it in nice a quick.”
Hannibal could see Face's shoulders jerking rhythmically as Jefferson pistoned the dildo viciously inside his boy and suddenly the full horror of the situation hit him with the force of a tsunami. In two strides he was at the wall mounted screen, his fingers reaching for Face trying, wishing, desperate to reach him, and then he was backing off again as the rage reasserted itself once more, back as far as the doorway, eyes still glued on his boy's face as he yelled to the others, “Hey! Hurry it up, for fuck's sake, we need to find him and get him the hell out of there!”
There was a pause of silence, before BA yelled back, “What's goin' on man?” and Murdock's concerned face appeared in the doorway.
“Boss?” he asked, eyes trying to flick around Hannibal's figure and into the family room. “He okay?”
“No,” Hannibal snapped back, trying just as hard to block Murdock's view, “so I need some answers Captain, seriously fast!”
“We workin' on it, man!” BA yelled back and Murdock just met Hannibal's panicked eyes and in that second understood everything. He shook his head, the horror and sadness clear in his eyes and turned back, not wanting to see or hear anything more.
Hannibal turned and stalked back to the screen, hands curled into impotent fists just as Jefferson positioned himself right in front of Face, the quiet droning of the dildo, probably left jammed in place, just audible over Face’s breathing. He looked up and grinned right into the camera and then his hands went to the belt of his trousers. Hannibal knew just what was coming next, and so, it appeared by the wild look in his eyes, did Face.
“Okay, Peck, I'm sure you've done this plenty of times before if the rumours I heard in Kuwait are anything to go by, so I'm expecting good things.” He pulled his hard cock through the fly of his trousers and held it out towards Face, tracing his lips and the edge of the gag with the almost purpling head and leaving shining wet trails in his wake. “A don't even think of biting, son. I've got another one of those beauties back there, with little studs in and I swear I'll use it on you if I feel even a hint of teeth. Understand?” Face nodded, his eyes glaring a death wish at his captor. “And it's also in your best interests to use as much spit as possible; I'm not wasting any more lube on you today – you got that?”
Again Face nodded furiously and Jefferson reached out to pull down his gag, “Open up pretty,” he taunted as he leaned in.
Face lifted his head, obligingly moving his mouth into position, but shouting “Venus!” loud and hoarse in the split second before Jefferson shoved himself in.
Any anger that might have been felt at his captive's unexpected outburst dissolved as Face instantly set his mouth and tongue to work at full capacity. Jefferson's head rolled back on his shoulders and he let out a long sigh of pleasure. Hannibal's stomach rolled at the sight, but he knew what the kid was doing, knew just how good that mouth could feel and knew that Face was trying to get Jefferson to shoot his load nice and quick. It was a brave, but unsuccessful effort, as it seemed that Jefferson soon cottoned onto Face's plan as well and withdrew with a vicious backhand that followed straight through.
“Naughty boy,” he hissed, shoving the gag back in place as Face was still reeling from his blow. He moved out of Face's eye line, back behind him, but Hannibal could see Face straining to follow him with his eyes. “Don't think you'll get out of it that easily, this has been a long time coming, and now I need to punish you.”
Hannibal’s stomach churned. Jefferson stood for a moment, back in the V of Face’s legs and tilted his head as if considering something. Then he smiled, a cold, lust fuelled smile that had Hannibal’s heart pounding against his ribs. “Don’t think we need this anymore hey, pretty?” he reached down and brutally yanked the vibrator out of Face, drawing a pained grunt from his captive at the same time. Then he looked back up at the camera, “Right, Garcia, round here now, and angle those lights down, Smith needs a really good view of this...”
There was perhaps a minute or two of shuffling and shots of the floor and people’s feet, Face’s bare legs and the surrounding darkness before Garcia arranged everything to Jefferson’s liking. Then all there was was a close up of Face’s thighs and his ass and the private space in between, now streaked with shining lube and blood. Hannibal bit down on his sudden nausea. “Watch this, Smith,” Jefferson’s disembodied voice gloated, “I think you’ll like it. Peck might not,” he laughed, “but I’m sure you will enjoy the show.”
A hand crept into the shot and rested on the small of Face’s back, followed by another which was shining in lube, right up to the wrist. Hannibal’s breath caught tight in his throat as he suddenly worked out what was about to happen.
“No,” he whispered, leaning closer to the TV, one hand on the wall next to it, trying to reach Face through the screen.
Of course there was nothing he could do but watch as Jefferson brought all his fingers together in a point and, spreading Face’s cheeks with the other hand, started to push in. Hannibal could see Face struggling against his chains, hear his little grunts of pain, even over the harsh breathing coming from both Jefferson and Garcia who were both obviously finding the entire experience intensely erotic, but Jefferson didn’t stop. The progress was slow, tortuously relentless and Hannibal could just imagine the look on Jefferson’s putrid face as he watched his whole hand slowly disappear into his boy’s beautiful silken heat. Hannibal’s eyes stung with unshed tears.
And then he was as far in as he could go and Face had stopped struggling, even though Hannibal could see his back heaving up and down with every breath. “And there we are,” Jefferson’s voice was strained, “right inside. Fuck, Smith, he is glorious, so damn hot.” There was a sick little snigger and then the wrist that Hannibal could see disappearing into Face’s body slowly started to twist backwards and forwards, jerking in and out a little at the same time and Face’s desperate struggles and grunts of pain started up again.
“Leave him alone you fucking bastard,” Hannibal snarled, but of course no one could hear him.
“Ever heard of colorectal perforation, John?” Jefferson asked almost conversationally though the lust was obvious in his voice as he continued to twist his wrist back and forth. “It’s a tear in the wall of the rectum; causes acute pain, infection of the abdomen, eventual death if not treated.” Hannibal could almost see Jefferson shaking his head with mock seriousness. “Hell of a way to go...” He suddenly shoved his arm in hard, Face’s cry of pain perfectly audible through the gag and laughed as he started pulling out, fast and brutal. “But don’t worry,” he sarcastically reassured his audience as he came out with a last hard jerk, “My pretty here will be dead of dehydration before that could happen anyway.” Hannibal found himself blinking back tears.
Jefferson drifted off out of the shot. He could hear distant voices, probably Jefferson and the invisible Garcia, but he had no interest in listening to what they were saying, his eyes were fixed on Face’s back, watching as it heaved in and out with each breath, each breath that Hannibal knew contained a sob that Face was desperately holding inside.
But in far too short a moment they were back, Jefferson drying his hands on a towel, Garcia stepping back so that all of Face’s long body came back into shot and then came that smug smile, right at the camera. “Okay then Smith, think we’ve warmed him up nicely, yes? Think he’s ready for a good hard, fuck now.”
Face didn’t respond, his head was down, his back still heaving as Jefferson shuffled into place between his legs, opening his trousers and pushing them down around his thighs, hand taking his cock out and stroking it slowly. “Oh, fuck,” he looked up past the camera at his assistant. “We forgot those pills didn’t we? You know, the ones that will make sure that Peck here has a good time too.” Garcia didn’t respond, but Jefferson, still stroking his cock, lifted his other wrist and looked at his watch face, thinking hard. “Hmm. A bit late to go back now don’t you think?” the camera bobbed as Garcia nodded. “We’ll have to do that tomorrow; I do so want to watch him come on my cock.” He shook himself as if moving on from that delightful image and turned back to the camera. “Well, are you watching old man?” he asked, his voice was strained with the perverted desire running through his veins. “Ready to watch me take your boy?”
But Hannibal couldn't watch, not at all, couldn't even think about what was happening right before his eyes, what he was completely impotent to stop. He shuffled forward, tears blurring his vision until all he could see were Face's own eyes, turned to the camera now and pleading, and it was all Hannibal could do not to turn and run from that expression. But he wouldn't, he couldn't. Instead he just held on to those shining blue eyes and tried to be there, tried to let his boy, his love know that this wouldn't be the end, that this transgression would not go unpunished.
He saw the exact second that Jefferson took what was not his, saw the pain and the humiliation wash through Face's expression as his eyes slid shut.
“Open them up, baby,” Hannibal whispered at the screen, “open up and see me, I'm here, I'm always here and I swear I will get you.”
As if he could actually hear, Face opened his eyes and looked straight at Hannibal once more and together they rode it out, Hannibal almost able to feel that burning invasion in his own body, the pressure, the stretch. He wouldn't look at Jefferson, and neither would Face, eyes just locking with the camera, trying to escape down its lens and Hannibal knew that he was tuning out Jefferson's lust fuelled comments just as much as Hannibal was, until those comments suddenly stared accompanying blows to the back of Face's head.
“Fuck you, Peck!” Jefferson shouted, the impending orgasm making his voice thick, “Look at me while I fuck you! Let me see in your eyes that you know you belong to me now!”
But of course Face wouldn't look, wouldn't even turn his head, just kept his eyes fixed on the camera, fixed on Hannibal, even as the blows became more vicious.
“You little fucker!” Jefferson sneered and leaned forward, still driving himself home at a frantic pace and grabbed the back of Face's head, a huge handful of hair dragging his stare from the camera and onto the wall in front instead. “Garcia! Move that mirror, I want this little bastard to watch me own him!”
“But...” Garcia's frightened voice was heard for the first time, “the camera...”
“Put it on the fucking stand...” Jefferson hissed through gritted teeth, “and move that fucking mirror! I'm just about ready to burst here.”
Hannibal watched in wide eyed horror as Garcia scuttled to comply and soon a shadowy figure could be seen holding a huge mirror up in front of Face, who promptly closed his eyes. Jefferson, however, was too far gone to notice, and happy in the thought that now both Hannibal and Face were forced to watch him, he let himself go and came, ramming his hips brutally forward with every pulse of unwanted semen that shot straight into Face's waiting body.
And then it was over. Face let his head drop and Jefferson leaned over his naked back, breathing heavily as he came down from his high, Hannibal stood in front of the flat screen, white fingers gripping the mantelpiece as tears ran unnoticed down his cheeks. Garcia, meanwhile shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the huge mirror.
“Sir...” he whined which made Jefferson's head snap up, his blissful expression fading in an instant.
“Did he watch?” Jefferson barked, his hand reaching out to drag Face's head up once more.
Garcia meant to lie, he really did, in fact he actually wanted to lie, but sometimes he just wasn't quick enough and his silence was all Jefferson needed to know the truth. “Aargh!” he yelled out in fury and leaned forward, still sheathed in Face's body and shoved his head down, cracking it hard on the metal floor of the prison. Face went limp instantly and Hannibal’s hand reached out again, touching the screen gently, right over the blood leaking from the gash across his forehead.
Jefferson withdrew, turning his nose in disgust at the blood on his now flaccid cock and after wiping himself clean and fastening his trousers he walked back around to Face’s head and examined him carefully, swearing under his breath when he realised that he’d knocked his plaything out cold. He looked back at his watch and then turned into the shadows. “Come on Garcia,” he muttered tightly, “let's leave him to his sleep. He’ll be out for some time yet.” Garcia didn't move and Jefferson turned and sighed impatiently. “What?”
Hannibal watched in silence, willing them both just to go.
“You said I...” Garcia swallowed heavily, “You promised...”
Jefferson sighed again. “Oh, for fuck’s sake...” He hissed, but Garcia just stared at him. “Right!” Jefferson shook his head, “Just get on with it,” he spat, “and make it quick!”
Hannibal's heart sank as Garcia dropped the mirror and quickly hurried into position, unfastening his trousers as he scuttled around the unconscious body in front of him. Both Jefferson and Hannibal watched impartially as Garcia thrust himself hard into Face's limp body and, only thirty frantic seconds later, threw his head back and moaned as he came.
“Come on!” Jefferson barked the second he'd finished and suddenly the whole room was bathed in sunlight as the door opened. Jefferson stalked out of the door and, still trying to fasten his trousers as he ran, Garcia followed him. In a second, with a loud metallic clang, the doors shut and Face was left alone.
Hannibal stood still, immobile in shock, watching Face's prone figure, staring at every rise and fall of his back, mapping every breath and feeling more helpless than he could remember feeling ever in his entire life.
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