Tommy’s shoes scuff along the pavement, the treads already half worn away. For the first time in his life, he has to worry about how long his shoes will last; it’s never been something he’s really thought about before. It’s been two and a half days since he ran away from home, and he’s gradually starting to realize just how many things in his life are like that: things he always took for granted.
But he’s not going home. Not yet, anyway. Not ever, if he can help it. His dad’s new family doesn’t care about him at all. New mom, new siblings; it’s all just too much. Clearly his dad just wants to move on and pretend that his old kid never existed, so Tommy is happy to help him out on that front by disappearing. He’s fifteen now; he can take care of himself. He just didn’t realize it would be quite this difficult.
The first night he’d slept at a friend’s house, but after his friend’s mom threatened to turn him in to the police, he’d ducked out again. He spent the last night sleeping under an awning around the side of a café, and it had not been a good experience. And even then, he’s not sure he’ll be able to go back there tonight; the owner of the café had given him a pretty dirty look that morning after he’d used the bathroom there to clean himself up and left without buying anything.
Tommy shifts his backpack a little higher and keeps walking. He doesn’t have an exact destination in mind, but he does want to get as far away from his Dad’s place as possible. He’s pretty sure everyone in his old neighborhood is already on high alert to watch out for him and try to bring him home.
He sighs and is just considering whether he can afford to at least splurge on subway fare to the north end of the city when a white van pulls up on the street next to him. It’s one of those windowless delivery vans, without a logo on the side. Normally he would barely notice a car zooming past, but this one stops startlingly close to him and doesn’t even bother to properly park at the curb.
Two men in dark sweatshirts appear at the van’s open door. One of them gets out and walks past Tommy, while the other one waves to get his attention.
“Hey kid!” says the man in the doorway. He’s got a large, neat mustache and an old-fashioned cap that shades his eyes from view. “You live around here? We’re kinda lost.”
Tommy shrugs. “Not really. I can do my best though. Where are you trying to get?”
The man holds up one of those old map-books with paper maps of every city and points to a page. “Here, do you think you can show us at least the general area of where we are?”
Tommy shuffles forward off the sidewalk and approaches the van, coming up next to the man and turning his head to the side to take a closer look at the map. “What, you guys don’t have GPS or anything?” he asks.
“Nope,” says a voice behind him.
Tommy tries to turn around, realizing too late that the man who exited the van earlier is standing directly behind him. He barely has time to open his mouth before the man slams into him from behind, knocking him into the van and sending him sprawling onto his stomach over the vehicle’s floor. The man is quick to hop into the vehicle behind him and close the door. Even before the door is fully shut, the vehicle is moving again, peeling away from the curb and pulling forward onto the street.
“What the fuck?!” Tommy yells. He tries to struggle up and get his legs under him, only to find that the man with the map and a third man that he hadn’t seen from the street are holding him down. The third man joins them and the three of them remove his backpack, keeping him pinned to the floor.
“That him?” There’s a fourth man up front in the driver’s seat of the van. He doesn’t turn around as he asks the question.
A rough hand grabs Tommy’s hair and lifts his head up, forcing his face into what little light makes its way into the van from the front windshield. Tommy squints in pain as the man holding his head turns it from side to side, inspecting him.
“Yeah, definitely the kid in the bulletin,” he says. It’s the man who had come up behind him. He’s taller than the other two, with a square jaw and bulky frame; clearly the muscle of the group. “Two days ago, I think? Immediate search has probably died down by now. Should probably make sure to keep him hidden for the rest of the week at least though, just in case, before we turn him over.”
Turn him over? Are these guys trying to get some kind of reward for finding him or something? Tommy struggles against their hold, but they subdue his movements easily.
“Checked his bag,” says the third man, who had been pawing through Tommy’s backpack. He’s the smallest of the three, darker-skinned than the others and wearing a ratty t-shirt with some kind of half-worn-away band logo. “There’s a phone, but it’s off. We should probably ditch it as soon as we can though, just in case.”
“Got it,” says the man in the cap. “Well then, looks like we’re good to go.”
“Nice,” says the muscular man. “Who wants to go first testing the goods, then?”
The third man, the smaller one, coughs lightly. “Uh, testing? Didn’t Jack say they’re supposed to be brought back virgins?”
Tommy’s eyes widen. He’s in a lot more trouble than he realized. He begins to struggle in much more earnest now, but the men continue to pin him down just as easily. The two other men and the driver laugh at the smaller man’s remark, ignoring Tommy’s invigorated escape attempts.
“I forgot it’s your first time,” says the man in the cap. “Yeah, obviously Jack says that, but the kid’s a boy. How’s anyone gonna know, huh? DNA test his ass? As long as we clean ‘em up okay afterwards, nobody’s the wiser. Jack just needs to be able to tell his customers that, you know? Nobody likes buying used goods. Most people don’t, anyway. This way he gets plausible deniability, and he can charge an extra fee for breaking ‘em in if anyone wants ‘em trained up first. No harm, no foul.” He pauses. “Unless you’re planning on snitching on us?” His tone is suddenly much less friendly.
The man in the t-shirt holds up his hands. “No way man, no way. Just... not sure how all this works totally yet, that’s all.”
“Well then here, let me show you,” says the man in the cap, his voice back to light and friendly. Without so much as a preamble, Tommy feels his pants and underwear being pulled down his thighs before someone grabs his hips and lifts them up into the air. The front of his body is still being held down, pressed against the rough mat carpeting the floor of the van. He squirms desperately, but the men are not only strong, they’re clearly used to this.
He hears the men shuffling around behind him as the man in the t-shirt approaches. The man in the cap hands something over and Tommy hears the small snap of something being opened.
“Make sure you lube yourself up good,” the man in the cap warns. “If you tear a new hole in him, they will notice that.”
“Got it,” says the t-shirt man. Tommy can’t see him anymore, given he’s gone around behind. He doesn’t have much leeway to crane his head around from where his front half is smushed down against the floor.
But he certainly feels it when the t-shirt man makes his move. He gets barely any warning, just one hand on one of the edge of his buttock to slightly adjust the angle of his hips, and then suddenly an enormous girth is pushing at his exposed hole, relentless and uncaring, forcing its way slowly inside him.
Tommy screams, first in pain, then in desperation. “Stop!” he yells at them. “Fuck! Stop! Someone, help me! Anyone!” He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, wondering if anyone might be able to hear him from the street. “Help! Help me!”
“Fuckin’ shut him up, would you?” grumbles the driver. “Someone might hear him if we have to stop at a light or something.”
Tommy redoubles his efforts, yelling even louder, pushing his lungs for everything they can produce, and so he misses the soft sound of a zipper preceding the cock that pushes its way down his throat.
He immediately coughs and chokes, his cries abruptly cut off by the sudden flesh plugging his mouth. He tries to bite down, but the man in front of him has his fingers pressed strategically and painfully against two points on his jaw, forcing it to remain open. Tears prick at the corner of Tommy’s eyes as the man’s balls come to rest against his chin, cock forced all the way in as deep as it will go.
He continues to struggle as best he can, but it’s difficult around the pain of the dick that continues to slide deeper and deeper into his ass. The hands behind him hold firmly now to both hips as the member works its way in, keeping him steady for the penetration. It seems to go on and on and on, cleaving Tommy so wide open he feels like it’s a wonder his hips don’t crack.
Finally, the man behind Tommy manages to work himself equally balls-deep into the boy, coming to rest flush against his backside, cock stuffed all the way up Tommy’s rectum to match the one in his mouth. He hears the man sigh in pleasure. For a moment they all just sit like that, Tommy speared between the two men like a pig on a spit, before the man behind him finally pulls out an inch or two and begins to thrust.
His motions aren’t huge, not with the van still moving and swaying with the driver’s turns. But he still manages to be surprisingly forceful, burying himself to the hilt at the height of each thrust, attacking Tommy’s ass with enthusiastic vigor.
The man in front of Tommy doesn’t move, leaving his cock embedded in the boy’s throat until Tommy is forced to breathe consciously through his nose to avoid passing out. Instead, he turns to his companion, the muscled man. “Hey, I can’t keep holding his face like this. Can you get the thing?”
There’s some more shuffling; out of the corner of his eye Tommy sees the third man rummaging in some kind of black duffle. Whatever the man pulls out of it, Tommy can’t see. He feels his own breathing grow faster with panic, his mind an overwhelmed blank.
With an abrupt move that Tommy was not expecting, the man in the cap yanks his cock back out of Tommy’s throat in one fluid motion. It happens so fast that Tommy is left gasping and spluttering, trying to breath between retches as he gags.
The man slides something else into his mouth, something firm that tastes like rubber. Tommy attempts to reach up and stop it, forgetting for a moment that his hands are pinned. He thrashes his head from side to side, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference. He feels a strap being pulled around the sides of his face and fastened behind him. He sticks his tongue out to try and get a feel for whatever was just strapped onto him, only for it to stick out into open air. Feeling further around the sides of his mouth, Tommy realizes that it’s some kind of rubber mouth-guard that fits over his teeth with an open center.
He has mere seconds to ponder the implications of this before the mustached man’s cock returns to his mouth, inserted through the hole in his gag and plunged back into the warm, wet orifice. He gags again as this time the cock does not rest but begins to thrust, matching the rhythm of the man pounding his ass as it slides in and out of his throat.
The two men fuck him happily from both ends, the van quiet but for the rumble of the engine and the soft squelching sounds of cocks working his holes. The men barely even grunt as they pound him, focused on taking their pleasure and keeping their balance at the same time. Tommy tries once more to scream in protest, but the sound is entirely muffled by the thick flesh gagging him.
The man in the cap comes first, pouring semen down Tommy’s young throat. This does not amount to much of a reprieve, however; as soon as he finishes he switches places with the muscular man holding Tommy down and a new cock is deftly inserted to replace the previous one. If anything, this one is even longer; Tommy chokes as he desperately tries to swallow around it.
The men continue their ministrations, seemingly entirely uninterested in Tommy outside of his holes. They don’t even bother to undress him further than they already have, leaving him in his shirt and shoes, with his pants and underwear cuffing his thighs together. Their thrusts are fast and uncoordinated, stopping occasionally to brace themselves as the van turns a corner or goes over a surprising bump. But these pauses are always brief and serve only to underscore the pain and humiliation as the thrusts return.
The man in his ass doesn’t last too much longer. Tommy feels a warm liquid bloom inside him as the man squirts cum deep inside his formerly virgin passage. Tears of fear and embarrassment streak down Tommy’s face as the man’s softening cock slips out of him. He pats Tommy’s ass lightly in satisfaction and doesn’t even bother to pull the boy’s pants back up.
“You were right,” the man says, finally breaking the silence. “That was totally worth it.”
“Told you,” says the man in the cap. The two of them watch in quiet contentment as the remaining man, the muscular one, continues to fuck Tommy’s face. He shows no particular signs of slowing down, thrusting just as vigorously as he did when he first penetrated the hole.
In fact, he’s still thrusting just as hard when the van slows to a stop and the engine cuts off.
“Back already?” says the man in the cap, sounding surprised. “Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess.”
“About time, if you ask me,” grumbles the driver from in front of them. “I’ve been aching for a turn listening to you all plugging him back there.”
There’s the heavy click and swinging sound of the back doors of the van being opened, the footfalls of someone climbing into the bed of the vehicle.
Then: hands once more at Tommy’s hips and a cock sliding immediately into him. This one goes in dry, but Tommy is well-lubed by now from the previous cock and the excessive deposit of cum coating his insides. The new cock slides right in. Tommy once again tries to scream, but as before the sound disappears into vibrations stimulating the cock in his throat.
Even this doesn’t make the cock in his mouth cum. He hears one of the other men give a chuckle; he thinks it’s the newcomer, the t-shirt man, but he can’t be sure. “Man, Andy’s a machine, huh? He’s gone longer than the two of us combined, I think.”
The muscular man, Andy apparently, says nothing but does grunt slightly in response. His thrusts do not change; they remain sharp and deep, fucking Tommy’s face as though trying to punish it, even as the newest cock in his ass begins to thrust as well.
While the latest two men continue their attentions to Tommy’s holes, the other two begin to move around the van slightly. Tommy hears them rummaging through their equipment once more, then another shuffle as they return. They reach under him and Tommy quickly realizes they’re binding his hands and feet. He expects coarse rope, but instead finds a soft and silky ribbon-like material that only cuts into him when he tries hard to struggle against it.
They bind not just Tommy’s wrists and ankles, but wind the bindings up along his legs and arms as well, working nonchalantly around the motions of the two men who continue to fuck him. They finally leave when Tommy is suitably restrained, easily mastered by his two penetrators without additional helping hands. So finished with their task, the two men exit the van, leaving Tommy alone with the second batch of rapists.
And so the rape continues; Tommy loses track of time as the men continue to fuck his ass and mouth. He’s covered in fluids—saliva dripping from his gag and a frothy mixture of lube and cum sliding down the back of his thighs—when the men finally finish. The driver comes first, filling up his rectum to replace the load of cum splashed out of him by his forceful thrusts. And then finally the persistent Andy, who pulls out as he comes, leaving just the head of his cock in Tommy’s mouth and holding the boy steadily in place so that he’s forced to taste the man’s jizz as it explodes into him.
Tommy is too tired to even vocalize a protest as the men pull away from him. Even if he weren’t, he sees as he finds himself hoisted easily onto Andy’s shoulder that there wouldn’t be any point to trying to make a scene. They’re well away from potential rescue now, parked in some sort of vast open warehouse that looks well abandoned, judging by its numerous broken windows. A small makeshift collection of furniture is huddled together in the center of the space: an old couch, a few mattresses on the floor, some ratty armchairs, and a low table.
Andy unceremoniously dumps Tommy’s bound body onto the couch, not even bothering to pull his pants back up or remove the gag from his mouth. Tommy’s exposed flesh is filthy, but he suspects the couch is even dirtier. He whimpers at the harsh treatment as the rough handling jostles the sore, abused flesh of his anus.
The men take up positions of leisure around the area, seemingly completely ignoring Tommy for the moment. One of the men, the cap man, pulls out a phone and starts messing with something on the screen.
The t-shirt man sinks down into one of the old armchairs and leans back, looking satisfied. He glances over at Tommy. “How long did you say we get to keep him before we have to hand him over to Jack for sale?”
The man in the cap doesn’t look up from his phone screen as he shrugs. “Depends. We’ll see how hot the cops are to find him. Usually they give up pretty fast for clear runaway cases. Guessing... at least another three days or so.”
The man looking at Tommy grins, a sickening expression that makes his blood run cold. “Nice. Lot of fun we can still have in three days. Can’t wait to get started.”