Please Don't Look At Me

Sebastian wasn’t sure if he’d been unconscious for minutes or hours when he was rudely awoken by the sound of the heavy wooden door creaking open and then slamming closed, quickly followed by the telltale sound of a large bolt sliding firmly into place.  He didn’t even bother to open his eyes, continuing to feign sleep as the all too familiar hands unshackled his limp arms and his prone form was lifted from the floor to be placed onto the table once again.  He was still too exhausted to respond as something long and thick was forced into him, his body showing little resistance to the invasion.

It was fortunate, he supposed, that he’d adapted so quickly to the abuse, as the group of men hadn’t bothered to prepare him this time.  The distinct absence of the fifth masked man, their commander, led Sebastian to believe that the only reason they’d been so gentle with him the first time around had been on his orders, or for his pleasure.  Perhaps both.

The first of the guards grunted his release, filling Sebastian’s abused hole with what felt like an immense amount of cum.  He could feel it trickling out of him as the masked man pulled his softening cock out and moved to one side to allow a second guard to take his place.  The young prince focused on the slightly sickening dripping sound of the foul white liquid as it fell from his ball sac and landed on the filthy stone floor, still soiled from the previous day’s punishments.  He tried to ignore the second man as he pushed his way into Sebastian’s unwilling body, quickly taking up a bone-shaking pace, making the abused brunette wince as his injuries were jarred repeatedly.

It continued, over and over, for longer than the last time.  They didn’t bother trying to give their captive any of the degrading pleasure he had endured before, focusing simply on gaining their own release and then moving on to wait their turn again.  Finally it was over though, with strong hands unshackling his limbs before lifting him off the table.  Sebastian could see a that large pool of ejaculate had gathered on the floor beneath him, and felt still more running out of his body in what felt like torrents.  He grimaced at the unpleasant sensation, but otherwise made no move.  To the guards, he may as well have been a reanimated corpse.

They had barely moved back away from the wooden restraint before a loud crash and a grunt interrupted their work.  A loud clang signalled the unlocking of the door, swiftly followed by the crashing of wood against brick as the heavy barrier was flung back by some unseen force.  The two masked guards nearest to the door rushed forwards, fists raised, to face who or whatever dared to challenge them.  Sebastian was swiftly and unceremoniously dropped as the men carrying him left to assist their brothers.  He cried out at the pain, as both of his broken legs were jarred by the impact, and slumped forwards, trying to push himself up from the floor with his weakened arms.

A blast of head and a popping sound drowned out the pained whimpers the prince hadn’t realised he was making, his arms still scrabbling at the stones below him, needing to look up, to see what this new danger was. 

Silence filled the room, punctuated only by the sound of a single set of footsteps heading cautiously towards the door, towards Sebastian.  Finally he was able to right himself, staring into the dark void that was now filling the doorway, obscured by the bright light from the passageway behind.  In his almost drug-like state, the brunette’s pain-hazed mind imagined that this figure might be the Maker himself, come to deliver him from this eternal torment.

“Andraste’s...Sebastian?  M-maker, are you alright?  Sebastian!”  The prince’s eyes widened in realisation; Anders!  No, this couldn’t be happening, the mage couldn’t be allowed to see him, not like this.  No one should see him like this.  His pride shattered as the heavy footsteps came towards his prone form at speed, the fair haired mage almost running to reach his companion’s side before dropping down beside him.

“N-no, please don’t...”  Sebastian raised his arms to push Anders away, wishing that the ground would swallow him whole so that he would not have to live through his own mortification.  In his weakened state, though, his body was not able to hold itself up and he collapsed forwards, landing heavily against a firm, clothed chest.

“Sebastian...what’ve they done to you?”  A pair of strong hands gripped his bare shoulders, moving to push him back into his previous seated position.  With the last of his strength, Sebastian pushed against the hands, burying his face in the juncture between Anders’ neck and shoulder in what would have appeared to be a tender gesture had the circumstances been different.

“Don’t look...please don’t look at me...please...”  He sobbed, his weakened body trembling as warm arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders and back. 

“I won’t.  I won’t look, I promise.”  Anders replied gently, his voice low and calming, cradling the injured and abused man in his embrace, barely containing his own fury as the enormity of the situation finally hit him.  The soft, agonising cries grew faint, as Sebastian slipped into a blissful unconsciousness.