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![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/community.gif) crescentcity
![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif) jake_frost | |
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Characters: Jake & Lisette Setting: Just off campus, on the side of the road/PM Content: NSFW (Swearing and Adult situations-Gay Bashing/Please don't read if it upsets you.) Summary: Jake gets Gay Bashed PAIN. Jake’s body had never experienced such overwhelming pain. “Faggot!” An explosion of new pain hit him as a fist slammed into his nose, busting it and sending blood flying onto his lower face and the burlap sack they’d placed over his head. He saw spots and smelled dirt, potatoes, burlap and the sickening sweet metallic tang of his own blood. If he could speak, maybe he could get out of this, but they had gagged him with an old oil rag from their truck. “Cocksucker!” Another punch to his stomach and the bile from his stomach wet the inside of his gag; he jerked against the pole they’d tied him to. How could this happen?, he wondered, I’m a wizard and a 2nd degree black belt. Earlier that night, Jake had stopped into a popular bar, not far from the CCI campus, called Gator Jones’ Pub. As he entered, flipping his fake I.D. (the best that money could buy), he noticed a cute young woman being harassed by a redneck, that had tilted back one too many and wouldn’t take no for an answer; strolling over to the girl, he said to her, “Sorry I’m late. I had to pick up mama from the hair salon.” The girl, with a grateful smile, replied, “That’s okay, baby. I’m just glad you’re here.” The redneck, feeling put out and confused, tried to give Jake a push, which Jake blocked…then he tried to punch Jake, which Jake also blocked, then putting the guy in a hold he couldn’t break out of. This caused his three friends at a nearby table to stand up. Jake walked the redneck over and left him with his friends, calling a waitress over, “Hey honey, set my friends here up with a few pitchers of beer on me, okay?” This seemed to mollify the rednecks, although the original guy stared daggers at Jake and the girl for the rest of the evening. Once it got late, the girl, Betty, said she had to go and Jake walked her to her car; in hindsight, he should have left then as well. However, Jake returned to the bar and sat there for a while talking to the bartender. Thinking the bartender was friendly and pretty hot, Jake asked him if he’d like to go out some time. Unfortunately, one of the rednecks had been coming up to the bar behind him and heard it all. Now, their friend had lost a girl and been smacked down by a fag. When Jake left the bar, the four angry, affronted rednecks followed him out to the parking lot; they had planned on jumping him there, but Jake had slipped into his car too quickly, so they climbed into their rebuilt TransAm and followed him. They squealed with delight when he pulled off of the road and got out to check on his tires. “DAMMIT!”, Jake yelled, he was just a few hundred feet from the campus and he gets a flat. “If I had my wand I could fix it quickly”, he told himself, grumbling because he had to do it the old fashioned way. After looking at his tire, he opened his trunk to get the spare out…and that’s where they got him. He had been concentrating on unscrewing the spare, when he was struck from behind with a baseball bat. The next thing Jake knew, he was tied up to a streetlight with a burlap bag over his head, taking the beating of his life. “Faggot piece of shit!”, Jake recognized that voice, as a blow came to the side of his head and his eye, sending blinding explosions of pain and light through his skull. Tears began to stream from his eyes and he hated himself for it. He was scared. He was in pain and helpless. He had lost track of how long they had been beating on him. All he could think of was Matthew Shepard…he had only been five years old when the boy was murdered, but he had read about him since then…and other boys this had happened to. He didn’t want to die. “Punch the fag in the balls, J.R.! HAHAHA!” “Don’t say mah name, dumbfuck! I ain’t touchin’ his faggot, homo balls!” “Use THIS!” There was laughter from all of them before Jake felt pain so intense that he vomited onto the rag stuffed in his mouth…he, managed to work it over so a small corner of his mouth was open, where it could all dribble out. They had used the bat on his testicles…he prayed to God that they didn’t do it again. “Fudgepackin’ homo motherfucker!” No they swung higher…his body jerked until he rammed his head back into the metal pole he was tied to; they had cracked a rib this time, he was sure of it. His head hung, overcome with pain; he wept. The end of the bat pushed his chin up. “That’s right, pretty boy. You’d better cry, cause after we cut you down, we’re gonna have a little party with you and then we’re gonna take a little trip out to the bayou. Fer you, pretty boy, that’s bye you!” The threat was followed by another punch to Jake's already busted nose, sending more blood running down his face. What Jake heard next, caused him to twist and turn on the pole to no avail… “Who has their Bowie knife? I want to cut this fag bastard’s dick off and stuff it in his mouth. I need mah gloves too!” “WAIT! Listen…someone’s coming! Let’s get the fuck outta here!” Jake heard the sounds of running feet and the car engine revving and peeling away. He tried to make noise by screaming through the gag, even though it made his head feel like it was going to explode and started fresh blood pouring from his nose. Tags: !incomplete
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It was even worse than she thought when she removed the blood stained burlap sack. She actually winced. He almost didn't look like himself. The swelling had happened quickly, distorting his boyish features. His full beautiful lips were cracked, puffy and bleeding.
She untied the gag, almost choking herself on the smell of bile and blood. She dealt with blood on a regular basis, but it usually wasn't human. She dropped the oil rag on the ground along with the sack and began to untie his hands, using one hand while her other held his chest. From the way he winced, she guessed they'd hit him there, too.
When she got him untied, she dropped the restraints in the pile with everything else and helped him slide down to the ground where he leaned back against the light pole. "Well, you look like hell. Probably nothing compared to how you feel, though." She took her wand out of her purse and waved it over his face, siphoning up the sick and blood. She glanced down to see that he'd wet himself and did him the courtesy of siphoning that up as well. No one else needed to witness his humiliation.
"Let me guess, you poked your nose in where it didn't belong and someone didn't like it."
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When Lisette untied his gag, Jake sobbed and gasped for a deep breath of air; he was finding it almost impossible to breathe through his nose now, “They hurt me, Lisette…”, he moaned, in a bewildered voice, “Why do people always hurt me?” His eyes were filled with tears and he couldn’t see that well, even out of the eye that wasn’t swollen shut.
Feeling Lisette’s hand pressed to his chest, he bit his lower lip to keep from crying out, he understood she was stopping him from falling. Inside, Jake searched for something on his body that didn’t hurt and came up empty. As he slid down the pole, his head reeled and he feared he would throw up again, but he managed to keep his stomach in control, not wanting to vomit on Lisette.
“Well, you look like hell…”, Jake tried to smile at her, but ended up only wincing as it pulled at his cracked lips and busted nose. He watched as she cleaned him up, the blood and the vomit and then saw her look down at him. Fresh tears came to his eyes, “Awwww, Lisette…I peed myself…”, he brought his hands up to his face to hide behind, “…I’m no hero…”, he sobbed again, “…I peed myself…I deserve to get beat up…”
Unaware that she’d cleaned him up, he heard her question and nodded, hands still over his face, as an answer.
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As Lisette looked him over, Jake’s one good eye followed her; he sniffled and gulped, trying to stop crying, “Li-se-sette, I’m s-sorry…”, he sniffled more, “I’m a b-baad p-person. I thought bad things ab-bouuut you.” He looked at his side when she looked and then looked at her with even more worry on his face. “I’m s-sorry…I’m d-different t-tooo. “
Jake leaned back against the pole as Lisette repaired the wheel on his car, but he didn’t watch her, he watched the road, terrified that the ones who beat him would return.
When Lisette helped him stand, Jake remembered two things that surprised him…that she was so strong and that he didn’t pass out from the pain…every step hurt as they moved to the car. He was so sorry to be putting so much of his weight on Lisette, but he couldn’t help it; he felt so dizzy and he hurt…he wondered if he might die.
The cool leather seats in the back of his car only accentuated the heat coming from his abused body and he was surprised to find that, where he expected comfort, he found none. “They would have hurt th-that girl…I…I had to h-h-help.”
As the car started moving, Jake mumbled, trying to share with Lisette, “My…My brothers ha-hate me…mmy mo-mother ig-no-nores me…nobody really li-likes me ex-cept my da-daddy.”
His side, where they smashed him in the ribs, hurt horribly and he tried to splay his legs apart because his privates felt swollen, from where they hit them with the bat; he reached back to touch the back of his head and felt that his hair was stiff with dried blood and his head was sensitive.
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