Shit. Damn formatting. Let's see if I can fix this.


He had struggled and fought to the best of his ability. The two of them had set upon him like hungry vultures, stripping the clothing from his body and attacking mercilessly. He had fought because there were only two of them this time; he thought he might be able to win. He was wrong.

They had beaten him viciously until he complied. A broken rib and a fracture in his left wrist, bruises echoing up and down his body. He was so sore and just wanted to lay on the table forever. The medigun had fixed him physically, but did nothing for his spinning head.

They had never shown indications of being able to be this violent... They were all killers, yes, but previously it had been hard (damn near impossible) for him to imagine the soft-spoken Texan and the polite Aussie being capable of such monstrosities. In the past, he figured that the others would eventually find out, and he knew this would happen in some form or another. He just always thought his greatest enemies would have been Spy and Soldier.

"You know..." Medic came into view and watched him, eyes unreadable, "They vill do this again. And if you fight, they vill break you again."

"Your point?" he asked.

"Perhaps if you committed yourself to a relationship vith one of us... He could protect you from the others."

"You just want me for yourself." The German grinned wickedly.

"Maybe. But you know that if you were under my care... it would never be allowed to happen again. I am gentle, you know this. I did not hit you a single time... and Heavy is quite enamored with you. He would not hurt you either."

"You gave Spy a sedative to inject me with! You sent him to get me, you tied me to the table-" Pyro's eyes suddenly widened as he realized that Medic had planned all of this, had known this would happen. He cursed. Medic came close and stroked the scarred face.

"I vondered how long it vould take you to figure it out... you are not a dumb individual, little Pyro." The man on the table turned his face away.

"Leave me alone."

"You vill think about my offer... and you vill realize it is your only option. Vhere else vould you go? To Spy? He is unable to protect you as Heavy and I can... Scout could not protect you, nor could Demo. Engineer, Sniper and Soldier could, but they would beat you within an inch of your life in the process. You have seen how they act. They are animals. I vill leave you to think about my suggestion, little Pyro."

"Don't call me that."

Medic went to leave and he just lay on the table silently, hugging his knees to his chest. He hated to admit it, absolutely hated it, but Medic was right. The German had set up this situation perfectly, and it had played right into his hands like a sick movie.

“Wait,” Pyro said quietly. Part of him hoped that Medic wouldn’t hear him, but the shadow that casted over him again told him otherwise.

“Ja?” Medic replied.

“… You won’t hurt me?”

“Ve vill not hurt you as long as you do not resist.”

“How will you protect me from the others?”

“I vill tell them that you are not to be touched… anyone who disobeys vill have to answer to Heavy or myself.”

It was a perfect plan, Pyro had to admit. How much he wanted to knock that asshole’s face right off, though! Rage and fear coursed through his system, and he rolled over to face the doctor. He sat up slowly, not caring as the sheet fell away from his naked and scarred torso.

“You promise?” he whispered, staring at Medic’s feet. The German leaned in close to him, wrapped him in strong arms, and kissed his scarred cheek.

“You have my vord.”

It took Pyro a full minute to reply, his eyes welling with tears because of what he was about to say.

“I agree with your plan,” he whispered. A few tears escaped his eyes and trickled down his face slowly. Medic’s hand stroked under his chin, forcing him to look up, but he would not meet the doctor’s eyes.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, he did so.

“Kiss me.”

Never had he wanted to die as much as he did right now. Hesitantly, he pressed his lips to Medic’s. He couldn’t help more tears from pouring down his face as the German kissed him slowly. Gently. When the doctor pulled away, he had a smile on his face.

“The others vill be told. No one else vill touch you again.” He straightened up a bit, eyes hardening slightly. “Now… after dinner tonight, you vill come to my quarters. Ja?”

Pyro couldn’t look at him anymore. “Y-yes…”

“Good boy. You may stay here for a little longer if you vish, but the battle begins soon and I must prepare.”

Medic left the room and Pyro sat there, mind reeling. He got up and dressed in his off-duty clothing. He felt numb and did not notice as his feet automatically carried him out of the med bay, down the stairs, into his room. No one was there, thankfully, and he dressed in silence.

“Now… after dinner tonight, you vill come to my quarters. Ja?”

For the first time, he wished that there was no such thing as respawn technology. Strapping his shotgun and ax to his back, he grabbed his flame thrower and set it on the desk, reaching for his mask. It went on comfortably and he couldn’t help but feel slightly safer behind the black plastic.

He reached for his flamethrower again and trudged upstairs just as the clocked struck eight.

Pyro walked up the basement stairs, considering his plan of action for the day. Resentment settled over him like a malaise. Usually, if he wasn’t out on his own on the battlefield, he stuck with Engineer. His flamethrower was the most effective spy check they had until the Texan devised something better.

Today he didn’t even want to see Engineer. He didn’t want to see any of his fucking team; he didn’t want to help them. The only person he didn’t feel absolute hatred towards was, strangely enough, Heavy. He didn’t understand why.

The main teleporter took them to Well today. Pyro was slightly thankful; it would be easy to find a place to hide there. He climbed a set of stairs, broke a few doors open with his ax (leaving them carefully intact, so as not to arouse suspicion), and ended up on the roof. He found a little corner, an overhang that provided a nice shady spot for him to stay. No one would find him here.

He noticed that if he crept forward just a bit, he could see the main exchange area. Theoretically, he could pick off the other team with his shotgun. He was quite handy with the weapon, despite rarely using it. Almost immediately he wanted to dismiss the idea. It could very well give away his location. At the same time, if he didn’t log any kills… He could get in a lot of trouble. Hiding was not looked favorably upon.

Pyro decided to creep around on the roof, quiet and slow, taking quick aim with his shotgun and firing before moving on. He proved quite adept at it, hitting his mark more often than not and wounding various unlucky BLUs. He never shot from the same place twice, and that caution served him well. By the end of the day, he had logged twelve kills and twenty-six assists… and not a single death.

When five o’clock came and he had to go back to the teleporter, he avoided his teammates by using odd routes to get to their “home room” and being the last one to go through. Once in the base, he stole down to his room, silent and unseen.

He was glad that he made it without having to deal with anyone. Locking his door, he fired up his flamethrower to check his room for a cloaked Spy, but his search turned up nothing and he almost set his bed ablaze.

Pyro stripped and showered, thinking about his log for the day. He had never been so efficient before. Perhaps they would reward him for his good work – that happened sometimes. If someone did particularly well, a package would come for them the next day, containing something they enjoyed. An album of a band they liked, or a type of food they favored. Sometimes it was new equipment, like a new weapon.

He kind of hoped he would get a package tomorrow, but doubtless the Administrator knew exactly how he had achieved such a good record. They were not supposed to break down doors and that haggard old woman seemed to know everything that went on during battle. Pyro had looked for the cameras that he was sure were there, but never found any. It was odd.

As he dried himself after his shower and put on his off duty clothes, he looked at his mask, sitting on his desk. Then he glanced at the clock. Six pm. Time for dinner. He really didn’t want to go upstairs and see everyone else. He sat down on his bed with a sigh and his stomach growled its annoyance.
Ignoring it, he turned his attention to the large tank beside his bed. It was full of moist dirt and green plants, and at first one might think was a terrarium until they looked closer and saw the slim, scaled creatures flitting about the soil.

About half a dozen salamanders habited the tank, and Pyro cared for them greatly. He had found the first salamander the second week he had been here while wandering around outside.
He’d found the tank in a storage room (they were full of the weirdest shit) and had carefully crafted a perfect environment for the little creatures. He’d found a second salamander few weeks later, and then another, and then a few more. The amphibians lived in apparent harmony, happily eating the worms and bugs he found for them both within and without the base.

He didn’t know why he’d started collecting the little guys, but rather liked them and didn’t worry about it.

His stomach grumbled again and Pyro sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he would have to go eat. He hadn’t eaten breakfast this morning, and it felt like his stomach was going to digest itself. Putting his mask and shoes on, he left the room.

Pyro didn’t look up from the floor as he entered the dining room. The others were already seated and eating, some nearly finished. He noticed that Spy was absent from the table, dismissed it, and got his plate and utensils. Tonight’s meal was spaghetti noodles, a choice of red or white sauce, “meatballs”, stale bread sticks, and something green that was probably supposed to be a salad. Fruit and pudding lay on a side table.
Pyro made a mental note to grab some before he went back to his room.

He didn’t listen to the others talking, and carefully lifted his mask up just enough for his mouth to be free. Pyro ate silently, not a change from the usual, and ignored the feeling of eyes on him.

Pyro finished eating rather quickly and put his dishes in the sink before grabbing a few pieces of fruit and heading for the exit. Someone grabbed his wrist, and he stopped, turning to see Medic looking at him hard.

“I vill see you in a five minutes,” he said sternly, squeezing firmly before letting go. Sufficiently freaked out, the younger man left the room quickly and practically ran down his quarters.

He set the fruit on his desk and took a moment to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his chest. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to willingly let that monster fuck him?

Pyro mulled over his options in his head. He could just not go… he glanced at his shotgun, leaning against the wall. He could shoot them. That would just make them angrier though, and when they came back from respawn they would exact revenge. Sharply, he remembered being sandwiched between Spy and Soldier as they impaled him mercilessly. His body thrummed with hurt just thinking about it.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t just give himself to that asshole simply to save his own skin. He could survive this.

Maybe he could do the same thing he had done earlier today. Maybe he could hide.

Pyro nodded to himself. That was what he would do. He took a backpack out of his closet and threw the fruit in, along with some books sitting on his desk, his pillow and a thin blanket. He shouldered the pack, satisfied with his choices.

Grabbing his sledgehammer, he checked over his room one last time before pressing his ear to his door. Satisfied that no one was outside waiting for him in the hall, he opened the door quietly and slipped out.

They couldn’t get to him if they couldn’t find him, right?

It wasn’t hard to find a suitable hiding place. The base was fucking enormous, and sometimes other teammates got lost in the maze of hallways. Pyro had spent a lot of time exploring the base and knew the layout well enough to avoid that fate.

He quickly found a suitable shelter. It was a rather large, and empty, closet in a room that was, curiously enough, inside another room on the far end of the base. It was confusing, but Pyro was grateful for his luck. The hallway to this place was lined with identical doors that opened into almost identical rooms. Surely he would be safe here, if only for a few nights.

Not daring to turn on a light, he left the closet door cracked to take advantage of what little daylight was left. He lay down his blanket and pillow and took one of the books out of his pack. Making himself comfortable, he began to read, trying to ignore the roiling pit of nausea that had become his stomach.

Medic would go looking for him. He would have to face the doctor sooner or later. Tomorrow dinner-time would be the latest he could avoid the German. Pyro looked at the two apples and an orange he had managed to take. That wouldn’t last long. He had no doubt that Medic would punish him for running away.

No. He couldn’t think of things like that.

Unable to read, he put the book down. Curling onto his side, he closed his eyes and prayed that they wouldn’t find him tonight.

Ω-Ω

He was woken up abruptly by the door opening and someone talking. Like a shot, he reacted. For a moment he forgot where he was, then grabbed his sledgehammer and turned towards the source of the noise.

He stopped short. Heavy stood there, looking just as surprised as Pyro.

“Why do you hide? Doctor is angry,” he chided, plucking the weapon from Pyro’s hands and scooping the boy up effortlessly. Pyro struggled in the strong grip.

“Let me go!” he cried, but Heavy only clutched him tighter. “I was hiding because I didn’t want you to find me. Please don’t take me to Medic, Heavy, please.”

The Russian stopped and looked at him. “Why not? We are nice.”

“Yes, and Medic’s angry, isn’t he? He will hurt me.”

Heavy shook his head. “No, will not let him hurt you. He is more sad.” Pyro sighed; obviously this wouldn’t work with the large man.

“Please, Heavy. Put me down. I don’t want to have sex with you or Medic.”

“You must. Is for good of team.”

Pyro fell silent. He wished he had brought his shotgun.

“Please just put me down. I can walk.”

“You will run.”

“I promise I won’t run.” The larger man looked at him carefully.

“You won’t run?”

“No.”

Heavy set him down gingerly and Pyro sighed before leading the way to Medic’s quarters. A feeling of impending doom set over him, and he tried to brush it aside. No matter what Heavy said, this was going to hurt.

Soon enough they reached the door to the doctor’s room, right off the med bay. If Pyro was right, the two were also connected somehow.

Pyro glanced at Heavy and let the Russian open the door.

“Did you find – ah, little Pyro…” Medic was dressed in his off-duty clothes, as they all were, and wore an odd smirk. Pyro felt his stomach drop, and stared at the floor.

Medic said nothing but loomed close to him, over him. Suddenly his mask was rudely pulled off, a hand running through his hair, down his cheek, cupping his chin.

“Look at me, bitte.”

He did so. Medic’s eyes flashed with anger and irritation and Pyro couldn’t help but flinch.

“Do not tremble; I am not going to hit you. I am going to warn you. If you do this again, I promise that ve vill beat you so hard that you vill vish I had beaten you tonight. And I vill not heal you until right before battle the next day. Do you understand?” his voice vibrated with authority and it struck Pyro to his core, his whole body icing over in fear.

“Yes,” he finally whispered.

“Good. Now, for tonight’s activities…” he leaned in and kissed Pyro chastely, “Vhy don’t you go and entertain Heavy for me, hmm?”

Pyro blinked and let his gaze drop. The Russian was already sitting on Medic’s bed, his boots to the side. Those mighty arms reached out to him as he walked forward, gathering him close and bringing him astride the broad lap.

Quickly, Heavy’s prickly lips covered his own and he was kissed forcefully. One hand cupped the back of his head almost tenderly, the other pulling at his shirt and loose trousers.

Pyro stiffened, unable to react as he was molested. Flashbacks of last night rushed him and he gasped in mental anguish. Undaunted, Heavy finished stripping him and lay him on the bed. A hand slid between his legs, spread him, and he just stared at the ceiling, numb, as fingers pressed inside of him.

He came back to the present with a cry, pushing Heavy’s arms away.

“No, please,” he whispered, looking at Medic with pleading eyes, “Please stop. I can’t.” Heavy sat up a little bit, waiting for the older man to order him onward.

“You vill,” Medic replied coolly from where he sat at his desk, legs crossed politely. As if he were at a fucking opera or something! “You vill or he vill break you in half. Heavy, continue.”

Heavy did as instructed, shoving his hand back in place before pinning Pyro down to the bed. The boy struggled, he couldn’t help it. Then something happened that Pyro did not quite understand. It happened too fast. How could the Heavy be so strong?

The hand inside of him was gone, sliding up his back and then he was flipped over onto his knees. Thick fingers grabbed his arm and wrenched it back and up. Pyro screamed in pain.

“Be still and I stop,” Heavy said, “Fight and I break your arm.”

Pyro stopped moving, but couldn’t prevent the sob that escaped his throat.

“Medic,” he begged, “Please.” He could feel Heavy shifting, and then something pressed up against his slit. Pyro didn’t have to be told what it was. He groaned as Heavy pushed forward, surging into him like a tsunami. His face crinkled in pain; fuck but Heavy’s cock was so big!

“Stop,” he wept, then bit off a cry as the Russian began fucking him earnestly. The hard thrusts rocked his whole body and it was then that he realized he was crying. Tears rained continuously onto the sheets and all he could do was clench his fists and hold on.

“You are beautiful like this,” a whisper in his ear. Medic. “Such a good boy, taking Heavy so vell.” Fingers stroked his face, lips kissed his cheek. “He vill come soon, and I vill reward you for being so good. I don’t vant to hurt you, little Pyro… I can take, but I can give also. You vill learn this.”

Pyro shook his head, groaning as a large hand – Heavy’s – snuck against his hip. A rough finger pad tweaked his clit and he shuddered as a wave of warmth struck through him.

“Unh!”

“Yes, you liked that? Again, Heavy.”

He called out again, bucking his hips backwards involuntarily. Why did it feel good? Then Heavy was doing it constantly and Pyro couldn’t stop wriggling in the large man’s grip.

“Please,” he begged. Medic was talking to him, but he couldn’t process the words as pleasure rushed all too quickly. It overwhelmed him, drowned him, and he swirled into a hazy abyss as he came with a shrill cry. Heavy’s movements did not stop nor slow and just as Pyro came back to his senses, the large man groaned with his own release.

He could feel Heavy coming, he could feel the thick cock jerk minutely within him as it filled his body with heat. Then Heavy was withdrawing and he could feel it leaking out of his pussy as he knelt there dumbly. His shoulder hurt from the abuse, and he rolled it slowly. He felt Medic climb onto the bed.

Pyro was turned onto his back and the German held him in strong arms, practically cradling him.

“Very good kleine, very good…” he purred in Pyro’s ear, kissing the scarred neck, “Kiss me, little one.”

He complied automatically, pressing his lips to Medic’s. A warm tongue slid into his mouth and he made a noise of discomfort, trying to pull away. Medic tasted like filmy sweat and desire. Pyro flinched as he heard the zipper of trousers; his legs were being spread again, so wide, and lifted to rest on Medic’s hips. The youth couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss, closing his eyes tightly. He did nothing to stop the low cry that came from his throat as the German slid home.

Medic shushed him with a finger against the scarred lips. The slender length filled him in a way that Heavy hadn’t, and Pyro was suddenly reminded of how gentle the man had been last night. How gentle Spy had been. With a start, he realized that he would rather this be Spy inside him, using him, rather than the half-insane doctor and his pet Russian.

Medic had hilted himself, but he didn’t move. He watched his subject quietly. He waited patiently until Pyro began to squirm in his grasp, uncomfortable with the stillness. Pyro could feel the cock throb inside him, pulsing with each beat of Medic’s heart. He didn’t know if he wanted it gone or moving.

His body chose the latter for him, rolling his hips against Medic’s as his hands sought the man’s broad shoulders.

“How sweetly pathetic,” the German purred, mouthing the soft neck as he quickly established a firm pace. The remains of Heavy’s orgasm had left Pyro’s insides slick and smooth, easing Medic’s passage. He straightened up, allowing himself to go deeper, and made a soft noise of pleasure.

“I knew you were a good boy at heart,” he murmured to his charge, stroking Pyro’s hips with each thrust, “You only need a bit of training. You enjoy this, don’t you?” He punctuated his words with a few particularly harsh thrusts, the bed shaking under his force.

Pyro grit his teeth and refused to answer, fingers digging hard into muscular shoulders. He gasped as a hand wrapped around his throat, pressing his trachea, cutting off his air. He choked, his hands automatically scrabbling to Medic’s wrist.

“You will answer when you are spoken to, kleine.” The German’s tone was dangerous and Pyro nodded quickly. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.”

Medic’s grip relaxed and he resumed his pace. It did not take him long to reach orgasm and he came with a low moan. Pyro had long since faded out, letting his mind go blank, but returned to himself when he felt Medic move off of him.

“You did vell,” Medic murmured to him, kissing his forehead. Pyro said nothing and simply stared at the ceiling. He would admit that he didn’t hurt physically. They had not been overtly rough with him. Medic had kept his promise.

The German had him cradled in one arm, on his side, and he kissed Pyro’s cheek.

“I take, and I give. I promised ve vould not hurt you…” Another kiss. “But I’m afraid I do have to punish you for running away… I have told the others that you are fair game until tomorrow’s battle.”

Pyro stared.

“Wh-what?” A firm hand ruffled the short brown hair, traced the scar down until it brushed by Pyro’s left eye. Medic’s blue eyes fired a bolt into his chest, his heart threatening to implode in response. He gaped shamelessly, horrified.

“I told you that I will not beat you this evening and I hold to that. I did not say anything about anyone other than Heavy and myself.”

Pyro snarled and his face screwed into anger.

“You bastard!” The resultant slap echoed harshly in the small room. Heavy watched from the corner. Pyro briefly wondered where he had been throughout all of this. His cheek stung hot and he turned his face back to look at Medic.

“Dress yourself and get out. I do not want to see you until battle tomorrow.”

Stumbling as if drunk, Pyro scrambled his clothes on and fled. His vision was a blur as the door slammed shut behind him and he ran. If he could get to his room, get to his gun, he might be okay. He would shoot them until they stopped coming. He could do this.

He ducked down a side hall, running as quickly and as quietly as he could. A burn in his lungs reminded him that he was holding his breath and he took a few slow, silent breaths. His sides felt like he had been torn open by shrapnel. He didn’t dare breathe any faster though for fear of making a sound.

One more turn before he would reach the stairs! Ears painfully sensitive, awaiting any slight noise, were nearly split in half by his own sudden shriek as he felt an arm impact his abdomen. Someone had stuck their arm out and caught him!

Pyro reacted immediately, twisting his elbow as hard as he could into the mystery individual’s shoulder. There was a loud crack and a hoarse yell; Pyro dropped to his knees to evade his attacker’s grasp and launched himself forward from the balls of his feet. Tucking into a roll, he popped out in a run – then promptly slammed into a wall of muscle, knocking him on his ass with a grunt.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Soldier’s voice boomed in his ears like a bomb. Large hands clapped down onto his shoulders and Pyro screamed as two thumbs jammed into the pressure points along his clavicle. Agony struck through him and left him sobbing for air, limp on the ground like a dead thing.

He didn’t fight as he was lifted in a fireman’s carry, staring at the ground and Soldier’s ass.

“Bitch broke m’fucking shoulder,” Sniper’s curse brimmed with spite and Pyro felt a launch of nausea go through him. This was going to hurt so much.

Soldier dumped him on a bed roughly and Pyro grunted as he landed on his wrist. The joint popped sickeningly and Pyro winced in pain.

He gathered himself to his knees as fast as he could and looked up, afraid to see what nightmare awaited him. Sniper was snarling with rage. Engineer held a coil of yellow cord. Soldier’s mouth twisted in a horrifying smirk.

“Now you just let us play with ya, lil missy,” Engineer’s words poured over him like warm honey, the man obviously trying to play off of Pyro’s emotions. “Quit yer fightin and we’ll treat you well… don’t struggle now.” His hands were grabbed by the cold shock of steel. Pyro stilled as the Gunslinger closed around his wrist; it would take literally no effort for the Texan to crush his hand like a ball of paper.

Engineer’s face hovered centimeters from his. Pyro felt his gut lurch again and pressed their lips together. The whiskery lips relaxed against his and the man started kissing him, enthusiastic. How he didn’t want to do this, to cooperate with the men abusing him! He had no choice. It was either this or more pain.

So he cooperated. He let Soldier strip him, then sucked Sniper’s cock while Engineer took him from behind. He let Soldier fuck his face before the rough American bent him over the bed and spread his ass. Fingers wet with lube slipped up inside of him and Pyro hummed to try and calm himself.

Trembling, he forced himself to relax as he felt the blunt head kiss against him.

“Soldier,” he whispered, “Please be gentle.” The other man didn’t glorify his plea with an answer and slowly pushed forward. Pyro’s body gave steadily and he couldn’t deny that, like this, it didn’t really hurt at all. It just felt… different.

“Soldier,” he whispered.

“You like it, cupcake?” the older man gruffed in his ear, voice dripping with contented lust. Pyro felt the warm thighs brush against him and exhaled slowly. Soldier was seated fully within him. It was… almost pleasant.

He whispered wordless sounds as Soldier pulled back and began to thrust. The launcher’s movements were slow, steady and filled Pyro’s abdomen with hot pressure until he was bouncing back against the cock spearing him so ruthlessly.

“Tell me you like it.”

Pyro gasped uselessly, rocking back against each hard
thrust.

“Please.”

“Tell me.”

“H-harder.”

Soldier obliged, puffing with exertion, rivulets of sweat rolling down his humid skin. With a prolonged growl he came, arching hard into Pyro’s soft body. He quickly withdrew, kissing the moist neck almost tenderly as he let Sniper take over. Sniper took no time sheathing himself in Pyro’s slit, his style rapid and shallow.

Soldier watched from the sidelines as the gunman brought himself to release. Engineer had already left, leaving just the Australian to exhaust himself. He came quickly, grunting his orgasm into Pyro’s mouth as he flooded the boy’s pussy.

“So smooth,” he mumbled, “So tight.”

Pyro could only cry in response.

I read the first part of this on ff.n, I think, and I loved it.

And now it's here with three parts? Not just a oneshot? And everything is fantastic?
Made my night, to say the least.

I almost feel guilty for enjoying this so much.

This story made me sad.

Me too, but also makes me so horny i can barely think straight...

Oh, how i wish Pyro had a sweet and hot cock instead of this slit...
Don't see it as an offense, please. I liked this fic, Mr. Egg.

This threads needs more rape, cruelty and sorrow.

I definitely feel guilty about enjoying this so much. Made it about half-way through like a normal afanfic story before the reality set in like a bucket of ice water to the face.

Question, though. How old is Pyro, exactly? He's got to be an adult, but you constantly refer to him as a boy. Is it just the good-looking androgynous face or is he Scout's age?

I first read this on pastebin and I am so glad to see that it has more parts, they are excellent! I still have mixed feelings about this, I feel kind of horrible for liking it as much as I do, but I can't deny the fact that this arouses greatly. I sincerely hope you continue it Eggwhites.

Hey, it's the person who originally requested this! Was pleasantly surprised to find more parts on your pastebin and am loving it so far. We should do a collaboration sometime! I'm visiting /y/ again so hit me up there if you're interested (also left my email in this post). I actually did fulfill your picture request at some point but I think it got with my HD failure...
-The Teratophile

All I can hope for is a wonderfully gruesome revenge-filled ending.

Look, I'm sorry, but I had to stop reading once I read Pyro starting to get into it in the first post.

That isn't how rape works.

7 Pyro is meant to be around 26 or so. A lot of pre-hormone-therapy transmen look much younger than they are though, hence the constant "boy" thing.

11 You're right, that's not how rape works. That is, however, how fantasy/non-fiction works/can work. Some people are into it and some people aren't. I hope you find something you like better.

12
Gotta' say, you just went up fifty points in my book for not going off on a tangent about how if I don't like it I shouldn't read it.

12 13 You guys make me have faith in the Internet.

Also, love the fic.

Damn it Heavy, what are you doing.

Part 4

He couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t a choice. It wasn’t an option. He knew even as he lay down that he was only going to stare at the ceiling. He simply accepted it, and spent the next eighty-four minutes doing just that. There was an aching pain in his bottom and his wrist was swollen, but otherwise he was unharmed. For the time being.

The hateful trio had let him go after they were done with him. Pyro was grateful that they hadn’t been too physical this time, and he hoped that no one else would harass him during the night. His bare fingers played over the cool metal of his shotgun. Would the three of them pursue him again? Would Spy come for him, or Medic or Heavy? He doubted that Scout would show up, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Pyro was only two years older than the rabbit.

Sometime during the night he vomited, rolling on his side suddenly and gagging the bitter poison onto the floor. He sat up and blinked, dizzy with nausea. He stared into the dark for a long time before he lay back down and closed his eyes.

He was jerked back into consciousness when there was a sudden knock on his door. Chocolate eyes shot open and his whole body went taut. He didn’t breathe, waiting.

Another knock.

“Pyro?”

Spy? Pyro’s face knit in confusion as to why the Frenchman would speak. Why had he knocked when he could have snuck in, probably effortlessly?

“Pyro, I’m coming in.”

His heart thumped in his chest and he grabbed his shotgun, bringing it to his shoulder just as the door popped open and Spy entered the room. Light flooded Pyro’s eyes, blinding him for a brief second.

The older man stopped, raising his palms to Pyro when he saw the gun. He eyed the puddle of vomit for a brief second before his eyes locked onto the younger man.

“I am not going to ‘arm you,” he said quickly, “Don’t shoot.” Pyro halted for a beat, two, three. Spy didn’t move, just watching, waiting for the frightened one to act. The shotgun was lowered and Pyro got up, moving quickly to close the door before anyone else could come in.

“What do you want,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse and breathless; terrified.

“I’m not going to ‘urt you, I swear.”

“Then why are you here.”

“I didn’t know Medic was going to do this.”

“You kidnapped me! You knew I was going to be raped!”

“I didn’t know that they were all going… to do that.”

Pyro stared, brown eyes catching Spy’s sapphire gaze. He had lowered his gun only slightly and stood by the desk. His posture was stiff, awkward. Spy remained near the door, hands raised as if to protect himself. His eyes were averted, resting on the salamander tank. Pyro racked his shotgun defensively.

“Leave me alone,” his words came fast and thin, “Please just leave me alone. Or let me borrow your cloak if you really want to help me.” Much to Pyro’s surprise, Spy nodded and unstrapped the watch from his wrist.


“Let me show you how it works,” he offered. Pyro shook his head.

“Why are you helping me?” His voice was screechy with panic.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything-“

“Liar!” The blast was loud as hell in the small room as a portion of Spy’s left elbow exploded. The Frenchman grabbed at his arm and shot towards the door. “Get out!” Pyro screamed and fired the gun again, this time at the ceiling. Plaster rained down like lace as Spy fumbled the latch open and disappeared through.

Pyro kicked the door shut and fired into the ceiling again. His veins sang with adrenaline and fear. He didn’t know why Spy had come in, what was that dick trying to pull? The specifics didn’t matter. It was enough to figure that Spy was probably going to fuck him over somehow.

He couldn’t trust any of them. It’s not that he ever trusted them to begin with, but now it was an absolute. Well, Heavy hadn’t hurt him. But still. He was more alone now than he had ever been before. Pyro looked into the salamander tank and, as hard as he tried not to, began to cry.

Tomorrow he would put more locks on his door. Deadbolts, even. But for now, he wasn’t safe here. Pyro pressed his ear to the door, listening carefully for others that might be in the hall. Nothing. He grabbed a box of shells, slipping them in his pocket. It was then he noticed that Spy had dropped his watch. He picked it up, looking at it for a long moment. It fit nicely in his pocket with his shells.

Pyro stole out of the room, shotgun clutched tightly to his chest. No one was going to touch him again tonight.

He walked as quickly and as quietly as he could. The maze of hallways was endless and he chose a small meeting room that they had never used (to his knowledge, anyway). It was a good walk away from the living quarters of everyone else. Curling up in a corner, shotgun securely in hand, Pyro waited for the sun to rise.

Eventually, the adrenaline wore off to a degree and he fell into a light doze. He was woken up by the morning sun shining relentlessly into his eyes. He wasn’t used to such harsh light so early in the morning, and blinked a few times.

He had made it through the night unscathed. Pyro wondered what time it was. Rising to his feet, he stretched the kinks out of his body from sleeping while leaned against a wall. His back was sore as hell, but it was a small price to pay.

It wasn’t five minutes before he was back in his room. The door had been ajar, but nothing within was disturbed. Pyro wondered who had come looking for him and decided it was better that he didn’t know.

It was 0716. His stomach growled insistently; breakfast was usually at 0700. He’d been too panicked to eat lately. Dressing himself in his uniform and gasmask, he left his weapons on his bed and went upstairs to eat.

Scout and Engineer were in the dining area, eating pancakes and toast respectfully. Scout didn’t even look up when Pyro entered the room, a small flush just coloring his face. Engineer looked up and kept his gaze on Pyro for an uncomfortably long time.

Pyro grabbed some fruit and toast, anything he could pick up and go. He was determined to leave as quickly as possible. The way Engineer was staring at him made him want to throw up.

He left the area quickly, barely even looking where he was going. A wall of human slammed into him as he turned a corner.

“Little Pyro?” Heavy’s voice asked.

“Heavy.” His voice was barely a squeak, muffled as it was through the mask. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Nyet, would never hurt Pyro,” he chastised. “Come, breakfast with me. I make sure no one hurt you, okay?” His sincerity made Pyro suspicious. And why wouldn’t it? At the same time… Heavy had been gentle with him every time, had never hurt him.

“I don’t want to eat breakfast in there,” Pyro whispered, “Engineer is in there.” The Russian made a face, thinking.

“Then we eat somewhere else,” he concluded, “Maybe outside?” That sounded reasonable. The short male didn’t know what to think. He wanted to trust Heavy, he wanted to have one ally instead of nothing.

Without saying a word, Pyro nodded.

Heavy went into the dining area and Pyro waited in the hallway. Anxiety washed through him like a disease. It took a decade for Heavy to come back out, holding a tray stacked high with pancakes that were liberally covered in butter and syrup. A thermos was clutched in his free hand, dwarfed by the man’s size.

“Follow,” he said cheerfully, leading the way. Pyro walked behind him, shrinking almost into the wall. The Russian led him out of the base, to a small alcove with an old wooden picnic table. The grass was dry and brown, slightly crispy underfoot.

Heavy sat and Pyro took a place in front of him, arranging the mask so that he could eat. For a few minutes, they said nothing, both chewing their food quietly.

It was Heavy who finally broke the silence.

“They hurt you,” he stated flatly. Pyro didn’t look up, he simply nodded. The toast was bone-dry in his mouth but he ate it anyway. Better this than nothing.

“I love Doctor, but I do not like how he treats you. It is wrong. Boy should not be hurt, should be loved.”

Pyro stared at him. “… I should go.”

“No, don’t go yet. Please. I will not hurt you. I am sorry that I touched you, had no choice. Doctor wanted me to do it,” here, Heavy turned his face away, “And I wanted to make you feel good. The way they hurt you, it hurt me too.”

God, how he wanted to believe the large man. To know that someone was on his side. He remembered how Spy had come to him in the night, the words he had said. Heavy was saying similar things, but he actually seemed honest about it.

“I went to find you, last night. To protect you. You were gone, not in your room.”

Pyro couldn't deal with this right now. He didn't know if Heavy was actually sincere or not. He just wanted to be alone. Slowly, he took the watch out of his pocket and fumbled with it for a moment. It took him only a minute to figure out how it worked.

“What is that?” Heavy asked, curious.

Without another word, Pyro vanished.

I like how you refer to pyro as a boy, with he's and him's. It really helps drive home the identity of the pyro.

Not gonna lie, if you referred to the pyro as she/her I feel the idea of a "Tranny" pyro would come off as a cheep gimmick to get the"gay only" crowd interested.

I was craving for this:

"(...)Boy should not be hurt, should be loved.”
And them the large man jumped on the boy. Pyro didn't screamed, didn't said anything, didn't even look surprised or specially frightened. He should know. He thought; while Heavy pinned his small form against the squeaking table, a disturbing grin in his lips; that he inconsciously knew that it was a cruel trap, and a sign:
Do not trust.
"That's" Heavy grunted, while unceremoniously spreading Pyro's legs and adjusting himself between then, a hand looking for the syrup and butter on the pancakes "that's the love boy deserves".
Pyro could not stop the silent tears when the man pushed his massive erection inside his anus, and quickly started an violent and painful motion inside of him. Even though he knew.

I think it's much more...don't know the right word...degrating? Wrong? Terrible? If he start to really trust a man who raped him, and that very man act like he did nothing wrong. The excuse that he loved the person who ordered him to rape is horrible... i know the fic is yours, and it's just fiction, porn and stuff. But it's my opinion that the direction it's taking is kinda killing the mood (of the non-con porn POV, hehe), and it's more disturbing then if Pyro was just assaulted every 10 seconds.

Please, have in mind i don't want to be disrespectful, it's just my opinion...

>>17

Your post made me lol, and I think I should feel bad about that.

I totally have to agree with you about this though; Heavy's excuse for his actions isn't even an excuse. I would hope that he is smart enough to know that, and I hope that EggWhites knows that it's not really an excuse. If this comes into play later, then awesomesauce. If Pyro ever accepts it, then I'll be annoyed, because it's seriously bullshit. He had no choice? Nah. Heavy is an adult man, and a fully capable and independent one at that. He could have chosen not to do what he did.

I am glad to see that some allies are coming out of the woodwork, though. Something tells me that maybe Scout could be another? Pyro definitely could use some real friends on his side, before things get even worse.

Meh, Heavy's excuse is definitely bullshit, but the "I raped you because I wanted to give you pleasure" and "I couldn't disobey him because I love him" lines are very common in this kind of fantasy stories. They pop up all the time in romance novels.

Like the part where he threatened to break Pyro's arm if Pyro tried to resist his rape, but then everybody acted as if Heavy is a nice guy who would never hurt Pyro; the "if you don't fight back I won't beat you up, and if I don't beat you up I'm a nice guy" mentality also pretty common in romance novels.

Spy's excuse is much more baffling.

Pyro: You knew I was going to be raped!
Spy: Yes, but I thought only I and Medic and probably Heavy were going to rape you! I had no idea the other guys would want to rape you too! I feel terrible knowing that 8 men gangraped you when I had planned to have you gangraped by only 3 men!

Even by the standards of romance novels, Spy's excuse is pretty damn WTF.

16 Thanks, that's what I was going for. I know a lot of transpeople and it helps to feel out Pyro's identity (in my opinion).

17 I understand what you're saying, and I agree to a certain point. This story isn't really meant to be just jack-off material, I was hoping to take it in a more cerebral direction than simply rape.

18 No, I agree. Heavy's excuse is complete bullshit. I'm actually really pissed about what he's doing. When I write, the story kind of writes itself if I have the characters developed to a certain point. Most of the individuals are to that point, but not all of them (like Scout, hence why he hasn't really played a part).

19 I'm really sorry if this is TMI, but I was raped (a long time ago) and one of them gave me the EXACT same excuse as Spy gave to Pyro. Truth can be stranger than fiction, friend.

This story gives me so many mixed feelings but somehow all of those feelings are good?!??!!

This is just so great for so many reasons that are conflicting for me, and every chapter makes me love it more.

>>20

What a coincidence... I was raped too. Many times, about four or something.

First, a stranger (don't remember well). Second and third times, by my uncle. And the fourth by a classmate (not a friend, just a guy of my class).

I don't remember well any of the attacks. And the only person who knows is my boyfriend. You guys don't count cuzz no one here knows me, hehe.

Part 5

Days passed and no one had seen Pyro. Medic was furious, but didn’t speak of it to anyone except Heavy. At dinner one night, they discussed if perhaps she had escaped. Engineer stated that no, she couldn’t have – she was still logging kills. Every day, sometime after dinner, a paper printed out from one of the computers in the respawn room. It contained everyone’s statistics for the day: kills and deaths, streaks, weapons used, ammo consumed, etc. Every day, Pyro’s name had kills associated to it… but never deaths.

Pyro stretched his legs out and yawned. It was almost an hour after dinner. That meant that he’d be able to go pick at the leftovers soon. He had been doing the same thing he had done at Well the day after the first incident. Sneaking around, using his shotgun. He hadn’t even thought about giving Spy his watch back; it allowed him to escape the others. He was able hide from Medic and Heavy. Those two were perpetually looking for him, it seemed. Pyro knew without a doubt that, if he let Medic see him again, it would end very badly.

He hadn’t been to his room since last night, when he needed to check on his salamanders. He fed the little creatures with a slight smile on his face. At least he had them instead of nothing. Every night, he slept somewhere different, with the watch strapped firmly to his wrist. He had discovered that, if he didn’t move too much, he could remain invisible indefinitely.

His kill/death ratio had not gone unnoticed by the administration, either. The second day (he had gotten nearly thirty kills on his own!), a package had come for him. He picked it up when no one else was around. Within it contained an electronic mister, to help keep his salamanders moist. Pyro had set it up the next evening, when he was sure he would not be interrupted.

It was surprising that he hadn’t gotten in trouble for his actions on the battlefield. He knew that they could see him, somehow. If the records that printed out every day were so accurate, that meant that they were being observed somehow. He just had no idea how. None of them did.

He had chosen another conference room as his roost for the night. No one had found him yet. Oh, they’d come looking for him. A few times, they had even found the room he was in. He’d had to be careful to stay calm, breathing silently through his nose as Medic stood in the doorway, or Heavy, or Engineer a few times. That’s why he couldn’t carry any gear when he had the cloak on – he was invisible, but his stuff was not. He generally left his stuff in his room, or sometimes he’d plant it somewhere else as a lure.

He wondered if they knew he had the cloak. There was no way that Spy had told them what had happened. He was much too smart for that. They probably didn’t know, he reckoned. That would make the most sense.

Pyro’s stomach grumbled, impatient, and he finally got to his feet. He listened through the door for a few moments, making sure the hallway was clear, before exiting swiftly. The short man walked to the mess room quietly and slowly. If he moved too fast or bumped into something, the cloak would shimmer. That would easily give him away, and he refused to let that happen.

“There we go.” Sniper’s voice echoed from down the hall and Pyro froze. The mess room was in sight, if he could just get to it…

A familiar sound reached his ears. At first, he couldn’t place it. Rhythmic, solid smacks in a fairly steady pattern. Pyro strained his ears, listening. His gut lurched violently as he realized what he was hearing. No, it couldn’t be…

He took a few careful steps towards the source of the noise: a door a few feet down the hall, left open. Then he heard other, less apparent sounds. Muffled grunting and the noises Sniper made when he fucked.

“He’s still just as tight as ever,” Sniper burred in his rough tone.

“Mmmhm, I bet.” Pyro’s blood froze, only inches from the door. Slowly, he took the last step and poked his head in. He knew he wasn’t going to like whatever could be in that room, but what he saw stunned him for damn near a full minute.

It was one of the extra bedrooms that no one had chosen, with a cot like everyone else’s, a closet, and a dresser. Engineer stood at the head of the bed, overalls unbuckled and hanging around his thighs, his hat and goggles gone. He jerked himself with his right hand, the gunslinger entangled in a chain. A pair of dog tags jingled against the metal with each snap of Sniper’s hips.

Pyro felt his heart stop.

There, on his knees with arms bound behind him with yellow extension cord, his mouth gagged with a strip of cloth, face buried into the sheets, was Scout. Long, sun-darkened fingers held the pale hips tightly as Sniper fucked the youth mercilessly. Scout was silent, or almost so, pearly tears coursing down his cheeks sluggishly.

A rush of bile burned Pyro’s throat and he put a hand to his mouth to prevent himself from throwing up. The hot tang filled his mouth and he forced himself to swallow it back down. If he didn’t, he’d give himself away.

Sniper’s movements were fast and hard, and Pyro could see blood spattering the bed and Scout’s thighs. His heart broke and he knew he had to do something, anything. Before he even realized what was happening, he was down in his room. Grabbing his shotgun. Going back up the stairs. He stopped for a moment and racked his gun; better to do it here where no one would hear it than right outside the door.

He didn’t care that Scout had joined in the first time. He didn’t care about anything except destroying those animals, those sorry excuses for men that Sniper and Engineer were. No one should have to go through that.

Pyro’s pulse pounded in his ears as he regulated his pace. He couldn't be too fast or the cloak would shake. There, he was in front of the door. None of them had moved from their positions. His heart was firmly in his throat and he swallowed as he took aim. He’d have to be quick, if he could get them both… and careful, he didn’t want to hit Scout.

The Australian’s head imploded in a shower of mist with an unholy wall of noise. Not pausing, Pyro racked another shell in and capped Engineer before the Texan could even realize what had happened. Their scarlet-spattered bodies crashed to the floor like bags of rotten meat. Adrenaline replaced Pyro’s blood and he rushed forward, shotgun in one hand as he grabbed Scout.

“Come on, can you walk?” he whispered hurriedly. He hauled the runner to his feet. Scout didn’t seem too fazed that he was being touched by an invisible spirit, and in seconds they were out the door. He had to help Scout keep his balance, but other than that it wasn’t too difficult.

“What was that?” Heavy boomed as he came out of the mess hall. Fuck.

“Scout,” Pyro gasped, “You can run faster than I can.” The younger one shook his head violently and jerked his head forwards. Even without words, Pyro understood.

Together, they ran, the bound Scout and the red flicker that was Pyro.

“Stop!” Heavy yelled. In some kind of slow motion, Pyro heard the shot ring out. A scalding heat, something he hadn’t felt in several days, erupted in his thigh. With a cry, he tumbled to the ground.

“Run!” he gasped to Scout. Another blast and Pyro moaned in pain as he lost feeling in his shoulder. White-hot pain claimed his senses quickly and Pyro cursed as his vision swirled. Please just let him make it. Please God, let him make it.

Without another thought, his mind shut down.

I was holding my breath that last half. So nerve-wracking. I'm excited that Sniper and Engineer got what was coming to them, but there's still Medic to worry about.

That was so fucking beautiful.

Looking for more abused!Scout.

Medic will destroy Pyro now, hehe. I hope they found Scout for the session, so maybe Pyro won't be raped and beat to nearly death so badly.

(I'm here still supporting you, mr.Egg).

I can't decide if I hate this or love it. Hm. Also, is there anyone who would be willing to help me with this story by proof-reading installments for me? It would be appreciated. My email is there for anyone who would like it.

Part 6

Pyro woke up staring at disgustingly familiar overhead lights. They were bright, so bright that they blinded him, and he groaned. He remembered being shot, but his shoulder and thigh didn’t hurt. He could smell ozone, his nostrils burning from the sharp odor. He must have gone through respawn. Awesome.

Oh God. Scout. Did he get away?

Wait, fuck. He was in the med bay. No, no, not this again.

He forced himself to breathe through his nose, slowly, calmly. Carefully, he pulled at his arms and legs. Nope, he was restrained with the same cuffs as last time.

The door opened and then closed, and he heard the click of boots against the tiled floor. Medic, probably. He kept his eyes closed, trying to fake unconsciousness.

“I know you are avake. Your heart monitor has changed,” Medic said lowly. He came to stand over Pyro, eyes taking in the naked and scarred body strapped to the table.

Pyro said nothing, didn’t even open his eyes.

Medic backhanded him hard. Brown eyes flashed open.

“You vill listen to me and you vill follow my commands,” Medic’s voice reminded Pyro of what snakes sounded like when they spit venom. “Your punishment is going to be horrible enough, no need to make it vorse. You have been a very bad girl, running avay from us. How did you get zhe vatch? Did you steal if off of a BLU spy? Answer me.”

Pyro remained silent. How could more punishment be worse than the torture that was already in store for him?

He heard Medic moving around, and flinched slightly when he felt cold metal close around his forearm. This made him open his eyes. Engineer stood there silently, waiting. He hadn’t even realized that the Texan was there. Fuck.

“Answer me, Pyro. This is your last varning.”

Nothing.

“Engineer?”

The sound of the bones cracking was almost instantaneous as Engineer closed the gunslinger around Pyro’s arm. It took barely a second for the radius and ulna to snap in half. Pyro’s back arched off the table as he screamed in pain. He panted heavily, staring numbly at the ceiling, feeling tears sting at his eyes. No, he wouldn’t cry already!

“How did you get zhat vatch, Pyro?”

“I… stole it off a BLU spy,” he lied feebly. That would make sense, the watch did have a navy strap after all rather than a scarlet one. He’d just never really thought about it. Why did Spy give it to him? Why did Spy have a BLU watch in the first place?

“Well now it’s destroyed, missy,” Engineer spoke up, “And me and Doc sure are sore at you.”

“You have… no right to do this,” their captive whispered, “Let me go. If you are human at all, you will let me go.”

“Stupid Pyro,” Medic chastised, “How could you have thought zhat zhis vas a good idea? Zhat vorking on a base full of men vould end vell?“ His fingers rubbed over Pyro’s chest, slipped between his legs, pressing into the moist flesh.

“Lil’ missy probably knew it was gonna happen… she wants it.” Pyro closed his eyes and bit his lip, focusing on the pain on his arm.

“You can fuck me all you want, you will never take away my dignity or my manhood,” he hissed through his teeth.

“Oh sweetheart,” Engineer laughed, “You just don’t get it, do you. You will soon enough though, lemme promise ya that.”

“Go get zhe ozhers, Engineer,” Medic instructed. Without another word, the Texan left the room. Pyro fidgeted and yelped in pain. His arm burned, like he was in that house fire all over again. God, it hurt so fucking much!

“I really didn’t zhink you vould fall for it,” the German admitted with a small chuckle, caressing Pyro’s face almost tenderly. “I zhought zhat you vere too smart for it to vork. Apparently not… never underestimate a woman’s stupidity, hm?”

“Fuck you,” Pyro spat and then cried out as Medic hit his broken arm. The skin was beginning to darken black and blue from the abuse. He panted for air, desperately trying to regulate his breathing. Some kind of control, anything.

“If you play nice, perhaps I vill heal your arm before zhe ozhers arrive,” Medic offered the carrot with a smirk on his face. Pyro said nothing, rolling his shoulder and grimacing. It was then that his pain-hazed mind finally processed what Medic had said.

“Wait, what do you mean fall for it?” he asked, voice quiet. The German laughed meanly.

“It vas a genius idea, I must admit,” Medic said, “It vas Sniper’s idea. Ve know zhat you have been picking at zhe leftovers after dinner. Ve’ve been keeping a careful tally on such zhings, to see if ve could capture you. It vasn’t easy getting to Scout, but he can only run for so long… the two of zhem made sure to make a lot of noise so as to attract you. And it vorked!”

Pyro’s face was hot with shame. It had been a fucking trap!

“Ve von’t let you get avay zhis time, little Pyro. You are mine now.” The door opened and Medic looked over and smiled. “Gutentag.”

Pyro felt his throat close up as he saw them. Engineer, Sniper, Soldier, and Heavy entered the room and stood behind Medic. He began to shake his head as Medic undid the restraints.

“No,” he whispered, “Please no.” Pyro sat up slowly, eyes downcast, feeling the men stare at him. God, how his arm throbbed with pain.

“You’re in for a world of hurt, girl,” Engineer drawled, smiling viciously. The gunslinger flexed instinctually with the man’s anticipation.

“If you ask nicely, maybe I vill heal your arm before ve begin.” Medic’s voice echoed around the hard-walled room like a tangible blow to Pyro’s already weak confidence.

He didn’t know what to think. All he knew was that he didn’t want to hurt anymore and he would do damn near anything to achieve that. At the same time, his blood boiled with rage. They could, and would, overpower him with no effort. There was no way he could win this battle. No way in hell.

“… Medic…”

“Yes?” He stepped closer to Pyro, resting a broad hand on the scarred shoulder. The arm that wasn’t broken. “Vhat vould you like me to do?”

“Pl… please… heal my arm.”

“Please heal my arm, what?” Medic insisted.

“Please heal my arm… sir,” Pyro repeated, his voice
utterly hollow and hopeless.

“Kiss me, and maybe I vill.”

I have no choice. I have no choice. I have no choice.
This is what Pyro chanted in his mind as he leaned forward and allowed Medic’s lips to close over his own. The German kissed him hard, pressing his tongue into the warm mouth, arms stroking the soft neck. He pulled away smiling and reached for the medigun, which was mounted to a harness hanging from the ceiling.

“See, zhat vasn’t so hard, vas it?” he mocked, aiming the red glow at Pyro’s arm. The youth groaned as his bones reknit, the bruises fading, the skin returning to its usual creamy shade. The pain gradually faded and Pyro could feel himself sweating profusely.

“Now. Since you caught her, Sniper and Engineer…” Medic stood back from the table. “I zhink it is only fitting zhat you two start things off, hm?” The two men stepped forward, Sniper wearing that lecherous smile and Engineer clenching his fists in excitement.

Pyro closed his eyes and tried to force himself to fade out. It didn’t work. He felt Sniper’s hands caressing his face, he heard the zip of a fly. Two hands – a steel one and a normal one – grabbed him, hauled him to the end of the table. Pyro desperately wanted to resist as those hands spread his thighs, but he forced himself to stay still.

He heard Engineer unclip his overalls. Sniper’s hand tangled in his hair and he moved closer. His hard shaft bobbed inches from Pyro’s mouth.

“Please,” he whispered. Sniper ignored him, as if he hadn’t spoken, and pressed the head to the full lips.

“C’mon now.” Pyro sucked reflexively as the cock was pushed into his mouth. He closed his eyes tightly and let Sniper fuck his face with long, sure strokes. The Texan slipped two fingers into him, caressing the silken walls, rubbing Pyro’s enlarged clit with the pad of his thumb. Each swipe of his fingers caused the curvy hips to buck involuntarily.

Pyro wished he was dead.

I have no choice. I have no choice. I have no choice.

It didn’t take long for Sniper to come in his mouth. Salty and bitter, almost like getting a mouthful of ocean water after being knocked down by a strong wave. Except it was much worse than that.

Medic soon took Sniper’s place, his thrusts much more shallow than the Australian’s. Pyro choked anyway, feeling like he was going to throw up. His head spun with embarrassment, shame, and some kind of guilt that he couldn’t place.

He dimly recalled Engineer coming with a sudden grunt and a sharp movement. He felt more than heard Heavy take his place. He wasn’t sure how he knew – maybe it was the solid and sure hands, or the slow, steady pace. Pyro couldn’t look up as he bobbed against Medic’s lap mechanically.

Pyro wondered where Scout was, if he had succeeded in his escape. Had Scout been in on the plan, too? No, he couldn’t have been… Medic said they had to catch him. That meant he had run from them. Was that the first time they had raped Scout? Or perhaps Medic had lied to give him a false sense of security. Maybe Scout had been in on it, had let them do that to him to lure Pyro in. Could Scout really be that deceitful? He had no answers to these questions, but tried to busy his mind with them rather than focus on what was being done to his body.

Heavy stroked his belly and lifted his hips, angling him so that the Russian could hit deeper. Pyro moaned around Medic’s cock, practically drooling from having his mouth open for so long. Medic tasted clean but musky, the foreskin soft against Pyro’s lips. With a sudden shock, Pyro’s mind rebelled against the situation.

The youth bit without warning, clamping his teeth down on the hard shaft.

“You little bitch!” Medic yelled, pulling away. Pyro grunted in pain as Medic backhanded him before punching him square in the face. Rolling to his side the best he could with Heavy between his legs (he had never stopped his incessant movements), Pyro vomited onto the floor with a singular heave. Blood trickled from his split lip.

“I zhink we should let your favorite take over, don’t you?” he asked Pyro menacingly, “Perhaps he can teach you the importance of being a good girl, since it seems that I cannot. First, Heavy, you may finish.”

Pyro could see them watching, their eyes still hungering for more. He looked away, scrunched his eyes shut, and rocked his hips against Heavy’s. He was encouraging the man to come. It would be over with quicker that way. With a low moan, the Russian came, filling Pyro to the brim. Heavy pulled out a few moments later, and then he was being thrown to the floor. Pyro crashed to the tiles on his knees, whining as his kneecaps flashed with pain.

He was flipped onto his back, and then a boot planted itself firmly on his ribcage. Soldier. Pyro refused to look up.

“No…” Pyro couldn’t stop himself from whispering the quiet plea. He knew what Soldier meant. The insane American was the roughest of them.

“You shut your whore mouth,” Soldier gritted, and then stomped his foot with all of his might. Everyone in the room heard the resulting crunch of bone, followed by Pyro’s halting sobs. The youth coughed, it hurt to breathe, and misted red spittle all over himself. The broken ribs had punctured his lungs.

“Perhaps if you listen to us, ve von’t have to let him beat you next time,” Medic said, his voice low. Pyro didn’t know what the others were doing. Probably still watching. He didn’t care. Hands clasped over his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. Soldier stared at him, lust coloring azure eyes. In another situation, maybe Pyro would have found those eyes beautiful.

Soldier threw him against the wall and Pyro put his hands up to try and protect himself.

“Please, I’m sorry,” he rasped, wheezing, “I’m sorry, I’ll be good!”

“’Sorry’ isn’t good enough, cupcake,” Soldier replied, his calloused fist connecting solidly with Pyro’s face.

No one spoke as the youngest was beaten, the only sounds in the room being Pyro’s cries and the crack of bone, the ripping of flesh. Soldier took his time, clearly enjoying his unwilling opponent. Speaking was too difficult for Pyro now, with his split lip and blackened eyes, and he lay there like a rag doll as his wrists were broken next, and then his jaw. Pyro’s body was so overwhelmed with agony that he couldn’t even feel anything. He wished that he would pass out soon.

Then he was being bent over the table. His legs were spread, a hand seeking between them. The rough fingers passed over his swollen and dripping pussy, going for his other hole instead.

“No,” Pyro whispered, barely audible, “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorr-“ He choked on his own words as Soldier impaled him. The man gave no time for Pyro to adjust, nothing, fucking the boy brutally from the get-go.

His body had long since gone on auto-pilot, like he wasn’t even in the room. He could smell his blood, feel it drying on his skin, feel it lubricating Soldier’s relentless thrusts. Every breath was a fight within himself and he tried to focus on the pain in his chest instead of the ever-increasing agony everywhere else.

“Megic, pease,” he heard himself cry, his words jumbled and garbled due to his bleeding lips, swollen tongue and dislocated jaw.

A hand cupped his broken face and the German knelt to kiss his forehead.

“There, there,” he cooed, “You must take your punishment. I promised you a world without pain and you threw it away. If you are a good girl from now on, maybe this won’t happen again.”

“Pease mag him stob. I’ll –“ he gagged, “I’ll be a gooh girr.” His heart broke and, finally, tears welled in his eyes, spilled down his bruised cheeks.

“Promise me that you’ll be a good girl,” the German insisted.

I have no choice. I have no choice. I have no choice.

“I promis… I promis dat I’ll be a gooh girr… Masteh.”

It seemed that those were the words Medic wanted to hear. Soldier disengaged from Pyro’s body, wiping his bloodied cock with the boy’s discarded shirt. The others were dismissed, except for Heavy, who remained at the doctor’s side. The Russian helped Medic position Pyro so that he wouldn’t choke on his own blood. They buckled his wrists and ankles into the restraints again.

“I’m not going to heal you until I am sure that you have learned your lesson,” Medic said lightly, stroking Pyro’s shoulders and back absently.

“Masteh, I hab,” Pyro took a shaky breath, “Pease.”

“You are just saying that to make the pain stop. I vant you to zhink about what has happened here this evening. This and worse avaits you if you ever disobey me again. Do you understand?” Pyro didn’t answer at first. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to speak, his face hurt so much.

“Do. You. Understand.”

“Yeth… Masteh.”

“Good girl. Tomorrow morning, if I feel you zhat you are truly regretful, I vill heal you and give you some breakfast. Good night, little girl.”

The words stung almost more than the blows had. Fuck how his body hurt. Medic paused, waiting for Pyro to answer.

“Gooh nighb, Masteh.”

Although I started to follow this fic less tentatively when you said you wanted to make it more cerebral, I must say that I have yet to figure out exactly how you're going to go about that. So far, this fic seems to me to be simply a series of violent encounters, which is all well and good for porn, but not for something cerebral. You said earlier something along the lines of "this is not how rape works in real life but it is how it works in fanfic," yet you also claim to want to make your fic more intelligent, and I'm curious as to how you think you can reconcile these opposing sentiments.

I'm not personally offended by your fic; I've enjoyed non con stories myself. But I would like you to point out the aspects of your fic that you think make "Discovery" more cerebral, because I have tried to pick them out myself and am genuinely baffled as to what they are.

27
Hey there. Thank you for saying that, I wasn't sure if it was clear enough and now I know. I guess for people who aren't familiar with transsexuals, it is hard to pick out.

I know many transmen, and a few transwomen. There are few things that absolutely destroy a trans-person's self-confidence than being called their gender of birth. Medic's constant referral to Pyro as "little girl" is destroying him inside. Most transmen also refuse to allow anyone to touch their vaginas (or even see them, in many cases). While the rape/torture is hideous enough, the rest of the team is well on their way to destroying Pyro's sense of self and leaving him a shell of his former being.

Not to mention, now that Medic has Pyro back, he has some very devious plans for his "little girl".

I guess I didn't make it clear enough for those who aren't familiar with trans people. When I get down to seriously editing this (after it's finished), I will definitely take what you have said into account. It's just so obvious to me, because I'm so familiar with it, that I didn't feel that I had to explain it. That was my fault, and I apologize.

Or maybe that isn't really cerebral? I definitely think it is, there are few things more cerebral than destroying an individual's sense of self. Maybe I'm wrong.

Please, anyone who cares, don't ever hesitate to make comments like Mimi's. I thrive on criticism!

Thank you for considering my critique.

If I may add, while I've read very sensitive fiction and non-fiction books dealing with the issue of gender identity, I can't help but feel that this fic treats it in a very peripheral, incidental way. Pyro's trans identity is introduced in the first chapter, and then it's barely mentioned again until the most recent update. Most of the fic is instead spent explicitly describing Pyro's gangbang in a way that's meant to titillate readers. I did notice that you used the word "he" for Pyro instead of "she," but it's easy for the impact of the pronoun to get lost beneath all the fisting and slavery.

Frankly, it's really jarring for a fic to try to teach us about trans identity when it's also trying to turn us on with gang rape porn. One's a sensitive social issue grounded in reality, and the other...isn't. You said it yourself that gang rape porn in fanfic is very different from assault in real life.

A truly cerebral fic would handle both trans identity and rape sensitively, instead of exploiting one while barely mentioning the other. To me, reading your fic is like watching an X-rated slasher film try to teach us about global warming.

That being said, I'm glad to hear that you're receiving critiques well. All the chans I've been on before this one have been rather lacking in literacy, so it's good to be in a community with decent writing discussion, let alone basic civility.

>>28

Sorry, mr. I didn't give anymore criticism because everything i had to say i already told you...i hate to sound repetitive.
The same thing: loving the rape scenes, loving the pain, loving the lack of soul of the attackers, hoping for more abused Scout...yadda yadda.

Maybe, i would complain that you said you would make a cerebral turn, but i didn't see it...yet. So, i think you still preparing the chapters with more deep tones, or something. That's why i didn't say anything.

Love this fanfic, honestly I say you keep the emphasis on the porn over spending too much time on the pyro's identity. Keep it coming!

This story leaves me with chills, I'm not one to find rape or any form of non-con sexy or... for a lack of better wording fappable, but I'm absolutely enthralled by the story and characterization. One thing that bothers me though, Demo is never seen in the story. I checked and hes only mentioned once. Is this a spoiler or just an accidental hiccup? Not that I would ever stop reading over that, just out of curiosity.

29
With all due respect, you have no idea how upsetting this piece would be for a transgender reader. Also, as detailed and thoughtful your criticism is, this is the internet. Not just the internet, but a fanfiction for a computer game. It's not meant to be Pulitzer prize winning prose. Perhaps you should take your skills and apply them to the real world - I'm sure you would make a great editor for a publisher or a published author. This isn't meant to be spiteful or angry. More apathetic and possibly slightly amused.

32 That's not an accidental thing at all. Every other class I can see as possibly being a real person, with real feelings and real thoughts. Demo is constructed in such a way that I just don't feel that with him. Same with Saxton Hale - they are such obvious caricatures that I just can't make them breathe. I mean, come on. He has a severe disability, he has chronic alcoholism, and Jesus Christ he's Scottish black man. It's like Valve went "Well shit, all our characters are pretty average. Let's add some diversity to our classes, but instead of giving everyone something different, let's just make one REALLY fucked up character."

I mean, seriously.

Proof-read by one of our own.

Part 7

He was woken by his own cries and agonizing pain that flowed through him like a current. Breathing was difficult and he wheezed red spray with each painful exhalation. In his head, he could hear the crunch of his ribs breaking all over again, the sob wrenched from him as his lungs were punctured. No. He didn’t want to think about that.

Pyro’s mouth tasted like old pennies and dirt, his tongue painfully dry and thick. The room was black, and at first he thought he was in a windowless room – but then he realized. His eyes were swollen shut.

Every part of his body felt broken. They had watched him and done nothing. Heavy had watched it happen. The Russian’s words from that distant breakfast made him dizzy. Heavy was so big, so strong! He could have stopped them! He could have at least stopped Soldier. The man that told Pyro those comforting words as the sun rose was not the man who watched, participated even, in his beating, his rape. It didn’t matter how gentle Heavy had been, how thoughtful. It didn’t matter.

‘Do not trust. Do not let the demons win.’

As his mind hazed over, Pyro suddenly realized why he had woken up. He was dying. Soldier had, effectively, beaten him to death.

With one last rattling breath, his heart stopped. For one split second his body panicked. His brain erupted, every synapse firing at once in brutal harmony. His conscious self couldn’t have been bothered; he had died thousands of times.

The small man faded and lost his mind for an indeterminate amount of time. It could have been only a second or ten years as far as Pyro was concerned.

If one were timing it, the process only took about five minutes.

Pyro woke up and breathed a muffled sigh of relief through his mask. The newly-printed off-duty uniform (the outfits changed depending on the time of day) was starchy against his skin. He sat up, clutching his chest as if expecting pain. Of course he was expecting pain. His lungs lit up with a vestigial burn, the feeling of ribs puncturing soft tissue whispering through him as if spoken by a ghost.

But that was over. He would be okay. Somehow this would work out. He could escape and hide again! Frantic eyes looked for the door and then welled with tears. The door was chained shut. He was locked in here. Medic had figured he would die during the night.

Trembling uncontrollably, Pyro held his hands to his face and began to cry. Breathing was difficult in the gasmask, let alone crying, so he pulled it off and cast it to the floor. He didn’t know how long he was lost in his despair, but he suddenly started when arms wrapped around him. Was he hallucinating?

“Do not cry, amour.”

Words. That voice. Pyro knew that voice instantly. His body flinched and he tried to pull away. The arms released him and the man’s cloak shushed as it fell away. Spy stood before him, his face unreadable.

“Please,” the boy whispered, “Please don’t.”

“I am not going to ‘urt you.” Those words again. A red flag sparked in his mind and Pyro narrowed his eyes as his angst dissipated in the fog of anger. He couldn’t fight all of them at once, but he could take one on one. All the restrained rage and humiliation that lurked beneath the surface suddenly frothed from Pyro’s mouth.

“You won’t hurt me, but you’ll stand by and watch them rip me apart like dogs! You took me to them, remember?” Spy’s face did not change and he said nothing. He only watched carefully.

“Why the fuck did you give me a BLU watch?” Pyro spat.

“Pardon? I gave you nothing.” Pyro grunted in annoyance and anger. He didn’t want to play these games.

“Fine. Are you going to fuck me or what? It’s not like you can hurt me any more than Soldier did.” The logical part of Pyro’s mind screamed as the words flecked from his mouth like drops of molten iron. He was practically asking for another beating and, regardless of whether or not Spy was as brutal as Soldier, it would still hurt like a motherfucker.

Spy’s next movements surprised him. The man sat down beside Pyro on the table, hands in his lap, back straight.

“Amour, I said that I was not going to ‘urt you.”

“You can say anything you want, I’m not going to believe you.”

Spy reached into his jacket and withdrew a thin metal case. A cigarette was balanced perfectly in his fingers and the flash of fire seemed to come from his hands rather than from a lighter. Spy took a few polite inhales, blowing the smoke away from Pyro.

“Would you like one?” the Frenchman asked delicately. Pyro turned away from him, huddling into himself.

“I’m not playing your game.”

“Amour –“

“Stop.” He could feel his body trembling slightly. Any moment now, he was expecting the greedy hands, the wanting lips. Brown eyes focused on a clock mounted on the wall and Pyro waited. He waited one minute, then two, then five. Then ten. No touches came, no sound except for Spy finishing his cigarette and lighting another.

“Leave me alone,” Pyro finally whispered. A mild tremor shook his body.

“I cannot leave any more than you can. The doors are locked.”

“… you can’t pick a lock?”

“I don’t recall stating whether I could or not.”

“You’re such a prick,” Pyro flinched as his mouth ran straight into dangerous territory without a care in the world. Hands were suddenly touching his back and every muscle turned to stone.

‘Here it comes. Here it comes.’

Long, thin arms enveloped him, brought him close to the warm chest. Pyro stiffened, awkward and afraid in Spy’s grasp. But nothing happened. Spy only held him as he rested his head gently against Pyro’s.

“I will not trust you,” Pyro said quietly, his voice as soft as a wisp of cotton.

“Then do not trust me. Actions speak louder than words.”

Spy was shifting him and he panicked. He resisted at first but then let the Frenchman lay him down. Still standing, the man removed his jacket, gloves, and tie.

‘Here it comes. Here it comes.’

The lithe form stretched on the table beside him, rolled on its side to face him. The jacket was settled over both of them and Spy’s arm wrapped around his waist. Pulled him close.

Pyro’s mind raced, unsure of what to feel or think.

‘Do not trust!’

But the grasp of Spy’s arm around him felt good, comforting. The way his head tucked just so under the Frenchman’s neck. The way his head tucked –

A memory seized him and he remembered. Soldier had gripped him tightly from behind, Spy cradled him from the front. His head was tucked under Spy’s chin. He could hear the soft, constant French being whispered to him. Both men moved together within his body. There was pain, but only from Soldier.

The memory left, replaced by the warmth of another quiet body, taking nothing, only sharing. The wool jacket lightly scratched against his bare arms.

Spy had helped him after all, right? Spy gave him the watch. What did he really have to lose, anyway? Pyro recalled how his wrists had snapped so easily under Soldier’s hands. He didn’t really have anything to lose. They couldn’t kill him. But god how that hurt.

Slowly, after nearly two hours, Spy felt Pyro relax into sleep. He pulled the jacket closer over the two of them and closed his eyes.

***

‘Do not trust!’

As one, the muscles in his tired body fired. He felt the arms around him, the warmth, and lashed out. The man only gripped him tighter, and caused him to fight harder.

“Please, you are going to fall-“ Spy grunted as knees drove into his gut and he was thrown off the table. Pyro shot up, hands in front of him defensively. His mind slowly caught up with the situation and he bit his lip.

Spy collected himself, coughed into his shoulder, and straightened to his full height. The Frenchman towered like an old willow, both strong and elegant.

“I should have expected that,” he murmured to himself, looking at his watch. It had a scarlet strap. Pyro just stared, waiting. Waiting for what? The man reached for his jacket, which had fallen to the floor.

Pyro said nothing. What was there to say? What could he possibly say that might have even the slimmest chance of changing a goddamn thing? All at once, he felt helpless. He lay back down and rolled on his side, keeping a close eye on the other man.

“I cannot take them all at once,” the click of a lighter punctuated Spy’s sentence, “And for that, I apologize.”

Hot anger churned in Pyro’s chest and he chewed his lip to quiet himself. Pressure, pressure, and he cried as teeth cut into the soft flesh. Blood washed through his mouth.

“Medic sent you! He fucking sent you to come get me, you knew what would happen, you molested me!” The words plummeted from his lips and echoed loudly through the room. With a start, Pyro realized he was trembling so hard his voice was shaking.

“You are right. Medic did send me. I did know what would ‘appen. And because of those facts, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – that I can tell you now that will change your mind. Even if I did tell you the whole story, you would never believe me.”

‘Don’t answer him. That’s just what he wants. Don’t enable him.’ Pyro curled into himself so hard that his spine cracked.
Spy moved with slow, deliberate gestures. He shook his jacket to remove any filth picked up from the floor and stepped towards Pyro. The youth flinched as the jacket was laid over him. Then Spy backed away, moving towards another table in the mostly empty room.

The room. Nine tables, one for each class. Each table was supported by a thick, singular base in the center that glowed softly blue. When a body was respawning, the table in question would hum. Other than those tables and the doors, the room was completely empty.

Spy sat on one of the other tables and then lay down. He turned his back to Pyro.

‘Do not trust. Do not trust. Do not trust.’

Crying quietly, Pyro’s shattered mind chanted itself into the abyss of dreams.

Something is up with Spy. I think BLU spy might be running around somewhere because of that BLU watch, but I can't figure out what he's doing or what his motivations are.

I thought that too! Maybe the BLU Spy was around the RED Base and accidentaly saw all the atrocities the REDs comitted against their poor pyro.

Or maybe he's just disguising himself like some of them to take advantage of the RED pyro, but that's just a stupid fantasy my mind is producing.

>>33
This isn't meant to be spiteful or angry. More apathetic and possibly slightly amused.
Actually, EggWhites, that whole comment came off as surprisingly nasty and condescending.

EggWhites, I know that I'm just some crazy Anon, but I earnestly like this story. It really draws the reader in and, as a girl, I can relate with your writings. This is something that I find very uncommon when I read fanfiction, and this is what really makes this story stand out.

You're a brilliant writer and you really keep me on edge with this story- in a good way.

Please continue writing this. It's just so different and outrageous that it must continue. Simply beautiful.

37
Note: DAMN this is long.

I'm sorry it came off like that, but I mean everything I said. Mimi gives some downright excellent crit. It reminds me of how my writing professors are - eagle eyed and going over everything with the finest of combs. I really think Mimi would make a perfect professional editor. Talent like that shouldn't be wasted (not really wasted, but I can't think of a better term) on fanfics on the internet. Don't get me wrong, I've read some absolutely beautiful fanfics that really blew me away. But when it comes down to the nitty-gritty, it's still a fanfic on the internet. I'm just trying to be realistic.

As for the trans thing. I have a few trans friends and I am also trans myself. I can't speak for other transmen, but I do know that among my friends and myself, pronouns are a huge deal. It's something we can't help. Being referred to as a "good girl" pisses me off beyond belief and makes me upset and ashamed. Not everyone knows I'm trans, so some people still refer to me as a she. I try not to let it bother me, but it's hard. If I were in the situation that Pyro is currently in, I don't think I'd be handling it nearly as well as he is.

This fic started out as being written for something to do, but it's becoming a sort of therapy for me now. One of my greatest fears is that someday I'll be with a group of guys (at work, hanging out, whatever) and they don't know I'm trans but then they find out. It's sad, but I know many transmen who were raped to "put the woman back in them" or some other such nonsense. In a way, this fear has gotten irrational for me and it's getting hard to deal with. Writing this story helps, somehow. I can't explain how or why, but this story is cathartic for me.

I try to be as forward as I can be and as honest as possible. I know some of the shit I say can come off as pissy and condescending, and I apologize for that. I am a very naturally sarcastic person, but misunderstandings are even more frequent over the internet. In any case, I mean everything I say and I'm sorry if I pissed anyone off.

Discovery is such a profoundly well thought out and emotionally potent fic...the developments you have given each one of the the team members always keeps me guessing. Wonderful work, I can't wait for more!

Proofread/edited/enhanced by Pancakes

Part 8

He woke up like a waterlogged corpse bobbing to the surface. He heard the door rattling. Someone was opening it. Where was Spy? Pyro glanced around but saw nothing, the room was empty. The Frenchman was either disguised or gone. He groaned, his stiff muscles complaining as he sat up on the metal table.

The doors opened and Medic entered the room. The doctor stopped beside the table, analyzing Pyro with stern eyes. The boy lowered his head, uncomfortable and awkward.

“How do you feel? Be honest,” Medic instructed and waited for Pyro to answer. Pyro continued to stare at the floor.

“I will not repeat myself, Mädchen.” That icy edge was creeping back into Medic’s voice. Pyro shuddered, and then gasped as he was backhanded hard enough to throw him off the table. He landed flat on his ass, shocked, and stared up at his persecutor. Medic stood over him like an impenetrable fortress.

“This is your last chance. Answer me.”

“Pl-please don’t hurt me,” Pyro whispered quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s what you said last night, and look at you this morning already. Maybe you need another round with Soldier?”

“No!” The word shot from his mouth unbidden. He couldn’t take any more of that. His wrists ached and his lungs throbbed in a visceral flashback. No, anything but that.

“Get up,” Medic demanded, and Pyro rose to his feet shakily. “Look at me. Good girl. Kiss me.” He drew back a little and turned his head slightly. Medic waited impatiently, then Pyro pushed their lips together clumsily. His trembling kiss seemed to please the German, who set an approving arm around Pyro’s shoulders. The large tongue pressed into his mouth, felt him and tasted him thoroughly before Medic pulled away.

“Yes, there is a good boy,” he murmured lowly, pressing himself tightly against the smaller body. The different pronoun made Pyro stop for a second, brows knitting together unconsciously.

“If you are good, you will receive good things,” Medic whispered to him, hands starting to wander the soft body. Pyro stiffened but forced himself to relax. “Are you hungry, little one?” He realized that yes, he was hungry. His belly felt hollow and sour. Pyro nodded.

“I will let you go eat with Heavy then… after I am done with you and only if you are good. Do you understand?”

Pyro’s heart went cold and he nodded again. Quickly, Medic’s lips set up his, kissing him hungrily. The tongue in his mouth did nothing to distract him from the hands wriggling under his clothes, pulling his trousers down, pushing between his legs. Medic broke the kiss sharply.

“You are going to ride me,” he whispered to his charge as he stroked the shaggy hair. Pyro stopped breathing and set his hands on Medic’s wrists.

“No,” he whispered, “Master-”

“You will or I will not feed you today.”

His stomach cried loudly. He was so hungry. But was he hungry enough to… to do that? Being on top, it was almost like willingly participating. He could never help this monster rape him. He wouldn’t take part in it.

“No.” Pyro shook his head, feeling tears prick at his eyes. His empty belly gurgled and churned in on itself.

“Fine then,” Medic pulled away from him abruptly and straightened his tie, “I will return later to collect you for battle.” The German started towards the door and opened it –

“Wait,” the boy whispered, “Wait. I will. Master, I-I will.” Medic turned back towards him, eyebrows raised almost comically.

“Are you sure? Or are we going to change our mind again? I’m getting quite tired of your games, Mädchen.” His voice was quietly lethal; Pyro had no doubt the man was at the end of his patience.

If he kept pushing, Medic’s tolerance was going to snap. There wasn’t much left for the doctor to take. Pyro wondered what could be worse than Soldier. He decided he didn’t want to know.

“I won’t change my mind. I will do what you want.”

Medic came to him again. “You will initiate it and you will ride me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master.”

He thought of food. The dry pancakes and sickly sweet syrup, the hard cereal, the stale toast and bitter coffee. As gross as it was, there was nothing else in the world he wanted more. So he pressed his lips to Medic’s, kissed him as if the German were edible. Shame seared in the back of his mind but hunger overrode everything else. Small hands rubbed and stroked, traveling up and down Medic’s body.

‘Pretend it’s someone else. A handsome stranger from the bar.’

His creative mind quickly stripped reality away. The muscles under Pyro’s fingers were firm and hard, forged from months of keeping up with the team while wearing a thirty kilogram pack. Instead, he pretended those muscles were from something else, maybe tough physical labor or long days on the farm.

Keeping his eyes firmly shut, Pyro pressed back against the doctor’s touches. A hand slid between his legs, found his clit and stroked it gently. Pyro cried out in genuine pleasure and rocked himself against Medic’s fingers, his own hands worming up under the doctor’s white button up. The flesh was hot and supple, the body hair coarse under his fingers.

Medic stripped Pyro quickly and lowered his own pants to his thighs. He sat up on the table and brought Pyro on top of him, encouraging the boy to straddle his waist as he lay down.

Throbbing heat pulsed against Pyro’s bare crotch. He could feel how wet he was, feel it trickling slowly out of his body. His mind ticked on, playing its own version all the while.

“Go on, Mädchen,” the doctor encouraged breathily, “Fuck yourself on me.”

Pyro flinched at the sound of Medic’s voice and hesitated as he lifted himself. One scarred hand found the straining cock and held it in position. It was so hard. Pyro felt sick for a moment. The man’s voice had broken the illusion.

“Now, before I lose my patience.”

Closing his eyes, Pyro met Medic’s body and sank down. His body stretched around the invasive length and he whispered wordless breaths as he settled himself. Medic filled him relentlessly and Pyro hesitated again before he moved. Just barely a split second, almost unnoticeable, but the doctor was ever aware.

“Hesitate again and I will feed you nothing.”

Strong hands grabbed his hips and started to thrust him up and down. The erection straining inside of him shifted and pressed at the slick walls, moving effortlessly in the tight flesh. It felt good, and warm pleasure fingered through his body. Yes, he could pretend. Maybe the man inside of him was a stranger, or a drunken friend, or any one of the other lovers Pyro had had over the years.

His mind chose an old coworker – they had done construction together. Brian had had a body very similar to Medic’s: large, broad and tight, with a deep chest. Their faces were completely different, but Pyro didn’t need that. He focused on the darkness of his eyelids. He was fucking Brian again.

And oh, it felt wonderful. The firm and calloused hands gripped his hips hard enough to bruise, rocking him onto that hardness. Pyro pressed his body against Medic desperately, panting and gasping with effort as he moved.

‘Brian, oh god.’

The German moaned beneath him, “Beg me.” Again, the mirage shuddered and threatened to collapse.

“Please,” Pyro cried, frantic to maintain his delusion, “Fuck me, fuck me hard.”

“Yes, good boy! Tell me how much you want to come on my cock.” No. No. His arousal vanished, replaced with fear and hunger. No. No he couldn’t. The words were bitter in his mouth and refused to pass his lips.

‘Say it, just say it!’

“Master,” he choked, “I-I want to… c-come all over your cock.” His face scorched with humiliation.

“Yes. Good boy.” Medic forced him to move faster and Pyro sobbed as he felt climax rushing towards him again. How?

“There there, little one,” Medic purred, then moaned as he spilled over the edge and into Pyro’s body.

The boy refused to cry and sighed as his orgasm withdrew as fast as it had approached. His whole body went limp and empty; he had been very close to coming. Pyro felt drained. He remained silent and watched Medic. The German gathered himself and smiled at the younger man.

“Good boy, you did very well. It is a shame that you didn’t come, but we will work on that later. Get up and I will get you some breakfast.”

Pyro complied dully, rising to his feet and dressing. Medic smoothed his clothes and buckled his belt. The German offered Pyro his hand. The boy stared, accepted it and let Medic lead to the mess.

They would all see him. They would all see him like this, like a little dog or a servant. A slave. He tried to twist his hand away from Medic’s and made a noise of pain as the larger fingers clamped hard over his.

“Master,” he whispered.

“Yes?” Medic didn’t look at him.

“I-I won’t run away.” He wasn’t dignified with an answer as they turned into the dining area. Engineer, Soldier and Heavy were in the room already eating. The clock read 0724. Pyro stared at the floor, unable to lift his eyes as Medic sat him at the table. The doctor gathered two plates and returned, placing one in front of Pyro.

Two pancakes, plain, and a large apple.

“Eat, Mädchen,” he said as he took a seat beside Pyro.

His mouth was as dry as death valley, his tongue scraping against porcelain teeth. Shaking fingers took the fork and cut a small piece, lifted it to his lips. It felt like chewing sand and tasted like nothing.

Medic offered him a glass of water, which he took and drank greedily. Unable to stop himself, the cool fluid gushed down his throat and into every part of him. The agonizing desert in his mouth was washed away in a tumultuous flood and suddenly he gagged. Spitting and coughing, he put the glass down. Medic thumped his back and Pyro breathed shakily.

“There, do not drink so fast. You will make yourself sick,” he chastised, “Now eat your breakfast.”

Eyes never leaving the table, Pyro ate. As silent as he was on the inside, within his mind roiled; where was Scout? No one had said anything about the runner, and it worried him. He wondered if Scout had managed to escape, if Scout had been in on the plan or not.

A moment of time played in Pyro’s mind like a movie. Scout had been bound tightly, so tightly it was cutting off his circulation, the skin around the taut cord as white as paper. The red, red blood spattered over the thin thighs and Sniper’s hips. Scout’s face had been turned towards the door and Pyro could see the silver tears raining from sky-blue eyes.

It sure as hell hadn’t looked like Scout was acting. Those tears had been real.

Pyro took another gulp of water. There was no way Scout had been in on the plan. He hoped. Maybe he was biased, maybe he just wanted a source of comfort, an ally, so badly that his mind was making up excuses.

Scout had been the only one to say anything even remotely negative the first time they had raped him. Pyro could remember the pitched voice, screechy with surprise and... panic.

“Hey, so what’s going on in here- uh what the fuck?”

That had been fear in Scout’s voice, not just mere shock. It had to have been. But why? Why would Scout have been afraid?

“Pyro?” He fell back to himself as Medic shook him. He had apparently finished eating, the pancakes gone and the apple nothing more than a strip of fleshless core. He rose automatically and followed Medic, surprised when the older man led them into the basement.

“Get your things.”

Pyro went into his room, glancing at his salamander tank. Their electronic mister was empty and they were probably hungry. They hadn’t been fed in a few days. He desperately wanted to tend to the little creatures.

“Go ahead,” Medic nodded, as if reading Pyro’s mind, “In fact, I believe there is a package for you on your desk.” So there was. It was a plain, unmarked brown box, with no postage. ‘Strange.’ Pyro opened it slowly, and lifted the glass canister from within the padded box.

“Freeze dried mealworms and other insects for them,” the German said. Pyro turned to him, confused. “Now you do not have to go outside to find food for them.”

“Why?” It was all Pyro could think of to say.

“I can give and I can take away. This is the best way for you to understand that.” The boy only nodded and set the jar down. He unhooked the mister and took it to be filled. Medic waited for him in the small room, standing by the door with hands clasped patiently.

Pyro filled the reservoir and shook some of the new food into the tank. The slim black creatures converged on the pile of insects, eating them eagerly. Bright yellow spots like miniature suns adorned each salamander’s back. For the first time in a week or so, Pyro felt calm. Everything would be okay.

“Now dress and get your weapons. We don’t have much time.”

Ω-Ω

Pyro watched Scout, thankful for the mask’s dark lenses. Scout was quiet and looked like he hadn’t slept well. Pyro’s heart hurt for the youngest and he wished he could say something. Medic would doubtlessly get pissed about it though and Pyro didn’t want to incur his wrath again anytime soon.

And Spy. Also quiet, but that wasn’t unusual, hanging behind them and chain-smoking. He didn’t look at Pyro as he loaded his revolver and slipped it into a shoulder holster.

The nine of them filed into the main teleporter room in the center of the base. This main base was out in the middle of nowhere, in a temperate forest surrounded by an impenetrable and literal wall of security. The teleporters took them to whatever area they were fighting in that day. Sometimes it was the same place for days or weeks on end and sometimes it changed every day. They’d been sent to Well a lot lately. Pyro wondered if that’s where they were headed.

He stood on the whirling pad of light and closed his eyes as his guts shifted into another dimension. Paralyzing fear crippled him for a few moments and then he was on his feet again.

The teleporters always took them to a home room of sorts on the “map”, a basic affair with a respawn off to the side and a voluminous supply cabinet. Most of the time the room had one small window to let them know where they were, but this was one of the more individual rooms. A huge bullet-proof sheet of plate glass glinted before them, a staircase going downstairs to the right.

Pyro both hated and loved Nucleus. The close quarters made it easy for him to fire up his targets, but much harder to sneak up on them. There were only so many hiding places there, after all. At least he’d get to air blast someone into the center pit. A small smile crossed his face.

“Pyro,” Medic’s voice echoed in the concrete room. With his mask on, Pyro felt more confident about himself as he looked towards the doctor. His thrower was a comforting weight in his arms, and his shotgun and ax were strapped securely to his back. He was going to kick some serious ass.

“Mmmhm?”

“You are going to circulate between Engineer, Sniper and Heavy. I want you to focus on defending them. You are not to go on offense unless instructed.” Pyro’s face fell. While he would usually check in occasionally on Sniper and Engineer, he had never been tied to them. He was much better at offense and being mostly on his own.

“Do you understand?”

“Yeff.”

The sirens went off and they flowed into the map. Pyro reluctantly hung around Engineer, defending the Texan as he set up his gear. Reflexively, Pyro shot at anyone who came near them, RED or BLU. Twice he caught the BLU spy, not nearly as talented as their own, and managed to kill him once.

“Go check on Snipes, Ah got this fer now,” Engineer commanded gruffly and Pyro left him gratefully. He hated Engineer so much, although it wasn’t like Sniper would be any better. As far as Pyro was concerned, the two of them could fall into the center pit and never come back.

He found the gruff Australian hiding out in one of the control rooms along the side of the map. The Announcer’s voice rang through the room as RED captured the point.

“I know you’re there,” Sniper grunted, “Y’always snuffle with that mask on.” He turned to face Pyro, setting his gun aside. He smiled wickedly.

Wait, no. Sniper couldn’t do this in battle. He wouldn’t do this in battle.

Quickly Pyro pivoted and raced down the stairs. The Australian cursed but didn’t seem to follow. Breathing heavily through the thick rubber, Pyro went looking for Medic. He didn’t want to be near Sniper.

A sudden sharp pain exploded in his back. ‘Guess that wasn’t Sniper at all.’

“You should be more careful next time, amour,” the BLU spy hissed in his ear. Pyro groaned as his vision faded and he fell into oblivion.

‘Amour?’

Wait. The watch had had a navy strap.

‘I need to focus on the battle.’ He couldn’t dwell on possible implications right now. He had to stay alive, he could think later. Pyro got up off the table and snatched up his shotgun, then headed down the stairs to the right. He had taken five steps out of the base when he heard Medic’s voice.

“Pyro! What are you doing?” He turned around to face the doctor. Medic was standing at the top of the staircase outside of the base, focused on healing someone that Pyro couldn’t see.

“Lkmn fhr yoo.”

“Come on then.”

He followed the devil out onto the battlefield.

Ω-Ω

Pyro followed Medic back to his quarters, slouching in the hot suit. It was as sweaty and uncomfortable as ever and he desperately wanted a shower. A small part of him didn’t even care if he was naked in front of Medic… a very small part.

The doctor set his weapons on a table in his office and beckoned Pyro to come to him.

“Help me unhook my pack and then we will go bathe.”

Pyro blinked underneath his mask, but said nothing. We? He helped lift the heavy pack from Medic’s back and then set his own weapons down at Medic’s behest.

“Come along,” Medic went to exit the doors, but Pyro didn’t follow. The German raised an eyebrow.

“Now what is wrong?” he asked, “You did so well this morning, Pyro.” He crossed his arms. Pyro just stared at the floor. ‘I don’t want to shower with all of them.’

“I dnmt wnmt to fhwer wff-“

“Take the mask off,” Medic interrupted rudely. Pyro stopped, and then slid his fingers under the rubber and bared his face. He turned his face away, but strong fingers grabbed his chin, forced him to look at the wretched doctor.

“I-I don’t want to shower w-with them,” the boy trembled just slightly, almost unnoticeable. Medic rolled his eyes.

“You’re better than this, little one. Do you want to be punished, is that it?” the doctor’s face split in a sadistic grin as Pyro shook his head minutely, “Then you will shut up and do as I say. I really don’t want to have to hurt you again already.”

Pyro sighed and followed Medic out of the room. Down the hall. Into the locker room, already filling with steam. Medic went to his shower cubby and began to undress, watching Pyro attempt to shrink into the wall. He gestured to the empty cubby that would have been Pyro’s if the boy lived upstairs.

“Strip.”

Pyro glanced at the main shower area and wanted to throw up. There were a few individual stalls but it appeared that they were rarely used.

“Hello doctor,” Heavy greeted, eyes on the boy. Sniper was a few feet behind him, showering next to Engineer. Soldier stood on the right, naked back to the others.

With numb fingers, Pyro undid the fastenings on the heavy suit. He shrugged off the suspenders holding up the bottom part. He stripped off the white tshirt, his boots, his socks, and then stopped. Naked save for a pair of red boxer briefs.

“Pyro.” Medic’s voice came from right behind him, brushing against his ear. Closing his eyes, he pulled the briefs down and off. His cheeks flamed and Medic led him to a showerhead, gave him soap. No one said a word for a few minutes until normal chatter began to resume.

Pyro remained tense, listening to the roar of the steam. A warmth pressed to his back.

“Little зайчик,” Heavy murmured, pulling the soapy body to his chest. Pyro fought for a second, pushing back, but then saw Medic’s face and stilled. The German watched, silent, face drawn in a scowl. Heavy covered Pyro’s mouth with his own and kissed the boy softly, tenderly.

Pyro closed his eyes. ‘Just pretend. Just pretend.’ His body shivered uncontrollably and he tried to forget the forest of eyes upon him. He kissed Heavy back slowly, trying to convince his body to relax in the Russian’s grip. Those large hands roamed his body, traced his scars, pinched his nipples, all while Heavy kissed him absolutely senseless.

He panted for air when Heavy finally released his lips, then began to suck along his jaw and neck. Hands settled on Pyro’s hips.

“Ah!” The cry came unbidden from his mouth as sure fingers ducked between his legs. He curled against Heavy’s broad chest, trembling as the Russian stroked at his clit.

“Good boy,” Medic purred.

Heavy began to mutter, syllables clip-clopping from his mouth onto the cobblestones of Pyro’s ears. Pyro had no idea what he was saying, but it didn’t really matter. Heavy had rendered the boy’s mind quiet.

Instead, he pressed his hips against Heavy’s hand, encouraging the touches. Words rained from his lips, pleading and whimpering like a cat in heat. Then Heavy shifted, and the hand drew away, taking Pyro’s carefully crafted illusion with it.

The Russian sank to his knees and spread Pyro’s pale thighs.

Confused, Pyro’s eyes shot open. He saw Medic staring from the lockers, already clean and dressed. Simply observing. His gut quaked. The others were watching just as intently. Sniper was wrapped in his own hand, groaning quietly. Soldier and Engineer just simply bore witness, for now.

Heavy’s tongue licked against his flesh and Pyro flinched.

“Wait-“ he cried out as Heavy began to lap at his hardening clit, small hands settling on the broad shoulders. Each brush of Heavy’s inquisitive tongue brought forth strong shudders. Pyro clutched at the Russian with unsure hands.

“Please.”

“Y’gonna come for us?” Sniper hissed in his ear. The ropey body ground against his side. Pyro couldn’t answer, gasping with confusion, horror, and a guilt-laced pleasure. Heavy’s mouth moved tirelessly over him, all soft lips and hungry tongue as they devoured the tender flesh. That broad muscle slid into him, teasing, before suckling at the enlarged nub.

His body jerked involuntarily with every press of Heavy’s mouth. It felt so good, but he hated these men so goddamn much! He could feel the hot pressure building inside of his body and tried to fight it with his inherent disgust. He wasn’t strong enough.

With a shrill cry, Pyro came against Heavy’s mouth, fluids flooding from him in a hateful exodus. His whole body drew as tight as a bowstring and he stayed like that for a few trembling moments. One last sob came from his lungs and his body melted.

“Good boy, good зайчик,” Heavy cooed to him, standing and cradling him. Sniper watched them eagerly.

“You are not to touch her tonight, Herr Sniper,” Medic called. The Australian snorted. “She has been good and does not deserve your rough treatment.” Pyro couldn’t help but feel sort of comforted, somehow. As Heavy guided him to Medic, the doctor wrapped him securely in a towel.

Maybe Medic was right. Complying was so much easier. Complying had saved him from a night with Sniper.

Pyro let Medic tenderly dress him, and then followed the doctor to the office. Medic did not hold his hand this time, allowing Pyro to walk at his side much like a dog would heel. What kind of person permitted their dignity to be taken like this? ‘I have no choice.’

Heavy had disappeared, probably to clean his guns. It was a ritual he did every night after battle. Shower, clean guns, shower again, dinner, amuse himself for a few hours, sleep. Usually he was with Medic for a significant portion of this time. If not with the German, he was either alone or with Demo in the common room.

The doctor opened his office door and sat at his desk. He had to take the statistics that the respawn computers spit out every day and keep a careful monitor on everyone’s various temperatures, pulse rates, blood pressure, weight, et cetera. This was done in case the technology began to fail. Sometimes the machine would cause mutations in their genes or limbs; when this happened, respawn had to be shut down and recalibrated (usually by Engineer). It was Medic’s job to be aware for any inconsistencies.

“You may go down to your room,” Medic said as he straightened a pile of papers. “You will accompany me for dinner at 1800.” The boy nodded.

“Yes, sir.” The German smiled widely and kissed Pyro’s cheek.

“See, you can be such a good boy. Now go, feed your reptiles.” Pyro didn’t need a second invitation and left the room. He had to admit, he felt okay.

‘Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.’ He smiled bitterly to himself as he trotted down the stairs to his room. His door was unlocked (as usual, it could only be locked from the inside) and he switched on the light. Harsh fluorescent lighting assaulted the room and Pyro blinked a few times. He took care of his salamanders and went to the laundry room to retrieve his clean clothing. Dirty uniforms and such were thrown down the chute and then reappeared the next morning, clean and folded, on a table in a room near Pyro’s.

The boy settled on his bed eventually, kicking his boots off and picking up the book he was currently reading. Of course the base had a library; it wasn’t anything special but it was good enough for Pyro. He’d guess the small room contained maybe five hundred books or so. It would take him a long time to read all of that.

He was quiet for a long time as he read, keeping a constant eye on the clock.

Pyro jolted when there was a knock at the door. Three curt taps. He knew that knock. Did he lock the door? Surely he did, but he couldn’t remember. The boy got to his feet and waited.

Another knock.

“I know you are in there.” Pyro froze.

Spy.

keep writing, this is great!

Oh EggWhites, I love this whole thing.

The emotion is so very real and much of what you have depicted is painfully accurate. It gives me chills, and I love you for it.

Also, I love how vile your Medic is. I'm used to writing my own fluffy Medic that reading yours is such a delicious foil.

I am ridiculously giddy every time this updates. Never stop.

This chapter of yours makes me wonder...specifically, the scene where Pyro looks at Scout at the battlefield...how it is to look - and talk, interact, etc - to a person who passed through the same kind of gruesome situation that you did? I mean, not a regular type of bad situation (like losing a lot of money, or something, for example), but a really horrible one, like this.

I never talked to anyone who was raped and was aware that i knew...everything. I wonder how it is. I guess it's a awkward situation, where i don't know what to talk about, and i just feel weird...and so does the person. It must be a bad feeling, like a forced intimacy, an i-read-your-diary-by-mistake-sorry type of sensation from both parts. Anyway, i don't think it would be a good thing, that type of deep recognition and connection between the two of us that would overcome any mean little difference and we would just feel good about it...not at all.

Well, it's just reflection. This comment isn't a criticism or a request of some dilemma that i would ask you to explore in your story, Mr. egg. It's just a though of a insignificant reader. Hope ya don't mind...

Pyro's salamanders being in included more and more in the story worries me. I don't want anything bad happening to them.

Brilliant story!

EGGWHITES! OMG!
THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST SATISFYING ADULT TF2 FANFICS I HAVE EVER READ!
(Took me 3 hours so far, but it's well worth it!)
This is seriously spot on with my likings and turn ons...
Pyros tomboy-ishness, her scars, her attitude and then final submission, Medics behaviour.. UNNFFF.. I love da kisses...
Heavy's gentleness.. Mmm.. did I mention the caressing of scars? UNF.
Everything. Everything is beautiful..
And I even enjoyed the little cuddle session with Spy and Pyro. Juicy as well.
Question, so if Pro is a girl, why do you still refer to her as a guy?

(Gettin' pretty underaged b& in here)

>>46

I do agree that this is a glorious story, but you got my hopes up in thinking it was updated. Please sage.

Pyro is referred-to as a boy because Pyro thinks he's a boy, even though he's a girl.

46 47 Pyro is referred to as a boy because he IS a boy. He's transgender. being born with a vagina doesn't mean you're a girl. Notice how the others refer to him as a girl to insult him, and medic refers to him as a boy to reward him.

>>39

Thank you for the compliment, EggWhite. Although I don't take back what I said, I should have sensed on some conscious level that this fic is cathartic for you. I didn't intend to say that your fanfic should be "deeper" if you don't want it to be. I just have a habit with pornography that whenever I see adult fics described as "deep" or "cerebral," I read them to see if they really are literary and wind up disappointed if they're not, fanfic or otherwise. Don't laugh; I think like this because most people who read Alan Moore's "Lost Girls" consider it to be art even though it's very explicit pornography, so I keep searching for stories like it.

I guess the other reason why I didn't find Medic and co's transphobia all that cerebral is because...they're rapists. The fact that they don't care about basic sexual boundaries means they wouldn't care about basic sex identity. I'd honestly be more surprised if there were that many straight male rapists who believed in trans awareness or equality. Basically, I didn't find it cerebral because I found it obvious. But if writing this fic is good for you, then all the power to it.

>>46 and >>47

I really don't want to come across as rude, but the fact that you didn't realize that Pyro IS a boy after the author explicitly said so several times makes you look...very bigoted and transphobic. Not to mention illiterate. You have completely missed the entire point of the story.

>>46

When I was her age, I used to be confused by the whole concept too.

>>49

Okay, the >>46 user just lost all the point of the fic by don't get that Pyro is a transgender, therefore she totally had an incomplete experience while reading the fic(which slightly focus in fears and risks transgender people unfortunately suffer).

But call her a transphobic just because she made a stupid mistake is really precipitated, don't you think? I really don't think she wanted to be prejudiced against anyone around here...just because she was confused about the whole story.

Now, for the >>47...well, there's a chance he used the wrong words, or he's confused not by the story, but by the conception of transgenderness...but he really sounded transphobic. I hope he wants to explain something about what he said.

46 and
47
I want to be mad, but I can't. I want to be upset, but I can't. For straight cis-people, it's a hard concept to grasp. When I was younger, I actually had trouble with it also.

Sometimes people don't feel like the sex they are born in. Our society integrates sex and gender to the point where most people simply accept it as one and the same. I understand that it's hard to break out of that mindset, but I encourage both of you to do so.

I will say one thing. In the very first chapter, Pyro is explicitly described as a transsexual. Doesn't get much clearer than that.

49 That makes a lot of sense. I apologize for such an error on my part. I feel like a dick for kind of just... assuming that readers automatically know how I feel. That's an unfair thing to assume because there is pretty much no way for you guys to know.

Hi there, I'm post >>47. I totally didn't mean to come across as transphobic or anything, and I completely understand why I made myself look like an ignorant fool. I honestly am quite uninformed about transgender, and I wanted to TRY to explain to >>46 about why the author was calling Pyro a boy, but apparently I failed.

Sorry, guys. I'll try to learn something. Didn't mean to come across as rude.

And- I'm actually a girl. Just a very misinformed girl who thought the world was simple. Again- sorry. One of my friends is transgender, so I'll ask her to teach me about it to prevent such ignorance in the future.

>>53

Wow, i'm pleasantly surprised now... i never thought you would really come back to actually explain yourself. I would smile to ya "internetcaly", but it's not allowed around here, hehe.


(if i saged wrongly...i'm sorry)

>>54

'sage' goes in the email box, not the name box. No worries though.

This story horrifies me in ways I cannot stop thinking about. It is completely useless as porn to me, save for the first part before it delved more into Pyro's character and made him way too sympathetic for me to get any pleasure out of reading him be tortured. Now I can't wait for the next update to see what happens next. I hope he eventually gets a happy ending, or at least the others get some sort of punishment for being absolute monsters. Every time they deliberately call him a girl or force him to say that he's a girl kills me, and I nearly cried several times just reading this. I really hope something good happens to Pryo soon. And not just "they don't beat and rape him TOO much".

next installment should be coming soon, finished proofreading and sent it back. The next installment has got to be my favorite so far.

Can't wait for the next instalment!

>>58

Please type sage into the email field, that way it does not bump the thread and make it look like there's a new post from the OP.
I am pretty sure most of us can't wait either but we are waiting patiently for it. It sucks on ice when you think the story you're into gets bumped but you end up finding that it's just someone who forgot to sage their post.

Proofread/edited/enhanced by Pancakes.

Part 9

He wasn't sure what to say or do. Now that he was standing, he could see that the door was unlocked. Fuck. But Spy couldn’t hurt him, right? He’d just tell Medic. In any case, he was slightly more concerned with why Spy kept seeking him out.

The door didn’t open. Pyro didn’t breathe.

“I’m not going to open the door. Please let me in. I won’t hurt you.”

“Why should I trust you?” The question was a whisper, clearly too quiet for Spy to hear. The two of them said nothing for another minute.

“Please let me in. I want to talk to you.”

“About what? About how you are no less a monster than they are?” Pyro was shocked to hear the words come from his mouth, loud and angry. There was a short pause.

“I’m not going away.”

Pyro sighed, exasperated. He looked over his room for something to use to defend himself if needed; all of his actual weapons were up in Medic’s quarters. He took a heavy glass candle off of his desk, holding it tightly. Spy couldn’t hurt him or else Medic would have the Frenchman’s ass on a spit. Hopefully.

“Fine. Come in. Don’t touch me.” He backed up into the corner farthest from the entrance. The knob turned and Spy entered the room quietly and shut the door.

“Should I lock it?” the thin man asked. His hands were in front of him, open palms turned towards Pyro.

Pyro didn’t answer.

“I’m not the monster you think I am,” Spy began, “You have to believe me. I know things don’t seem right, and that is because they… they aren’t.”

The smaller man was suspicious. Why was Spy acting like this again?

Wait. He had almost forgotten, caught up in his own misery as he had been. The navy strap on the watch. Amour. Could this be the BLU spy?

“Who are you?” The words were short.

“I can’t tell you that now.”

“Get out. If you’re going to play these fucking games, you can leave right now. I don’t have time for this.” Pyro held the candle tightly in his fist, the glass cool and reassuring under his fingers.

“I can’t help you if you know,” the Spy’s voice was genuinely sad and it shocked Pyro so much that he went silent. “I wish you hadn’t shot me, but I understand why you did.” Spy didn’t come any closer to Pyro, maintaining his own separate space by the door.

“What do you want?” The boy’s voice was strained, unsure of what to do.

“You shouldn't have used the cloak to rescue Scout,” Spy said, his voice flat, “Although you would probably like to know that he was really grateful.”

Pyro raised an eyebrow, “How would you know how Scout feels?” The man shrugged in response.

“A spy never reveals his secrets.” At this, Pyro rolled his eyes. ‘How cliché.’

“I am trying to figure out a way for you to escape,” Spy continued, “How long was your contract for?”

“You don’t already know? Some Spy,” Pyro mocked, his anxiety beginning to dissipate slightly. Irritation took its stead. Why was Spy acting so damn weird?

At the same time… if this was the BLU spy, then it would make sense that he didn’t know Pyro’s contract time. Then how would he know that Pyro had rescued Scout using the cloak? Another thought plucked at his mind next, this one a dark smear across his tired brain. What if this was Spy, their Spy, just playing mind games? Could Spy be that deceptive and heartless? Stupid question.

‘Do not trust.’ Pyro’s eyes narrowed.

“Get out,” he hissed, “Your words mean nothing to me.”

The Frenchman shook his head and left without another word. Pyro raised his eyebrows; that had been too easy.

He turned his attention to the clock. It was 1750; he had to go find Medic and go to dinner. Checking over his precious salamanders one last time, he turned off the light and went upstairs. The halls were empty and he knocked on Medic’s door. Should he just go in? He wasn’t sure.

The door opened and the German within smiled warmly. “Ah, Pyro. You aren’t going to hide from me this time, very good.” A large hand patted Pyro’s head, then entwined the small fingers in his own and squeezed gently. “Come along then.” Medic released his hand and headed towards the mess. Pyro followed obediently, looking at the floor.

He would never get over the shame, would he? Medic never let him wear his mask, and it made Pyro feel even more vulnerable than usual. He was naked, literally, for all of the rest of their hideous team to gawk at and to prod.

Almost everyone was in the mess, with the exception of Spy (a fairly normal occurrence to begin with) and Scout. Now that he thought about it, Pyro hadn’t seen Scout at all outside of battle, not since he saved the rabbit. Pyro’s heart fell lower than it already was. Scout didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that.

Even if Scout was annoying as hell, and brash and loud and obnoxious. He was still kind of funny sometimes, and generally wasn’t very malicious. Just a classic case of false bravado. What would rape do to such a person? Had they beaten him too?

Medic sat Pyro at the table and brought him a plate of food. Apparently this was how meal time would be from now on. It was burger night and he stared at the food allowed to him. Medic had given him one burger that looked plain, a pat of baked beans, and a small cup of coleslaw.

Heavy snorted at something Sniper said, bringing Pyro’s attention suddenly to the men around him. Sniper and Heavy seemed to be embroiled in a heated discussion of the recent world war as Engineer watched quietly from the sidelines. Engineer played mediator to almost every argument that ever arose.

Despite being German (or perhaps because of), Medic always ignored these conversations and outright refused to participate in them. Instead, the doctor sat beside Pyro, eating politely, and kept an eye on the scarred boy.

“Churchill was a fool,” Heavy declared. Usually Soldier would have burst in by now, but he was too busy frothing spittle at Demo to hear the Russian. Arguments between him and the Scot were frequent and nasty, and it was rare when anyone would risk their lives to intervene. Even Engineer.

An arm rested around Pyro’s shoulders, bringing him closer to Medic. The boy tried not to stiffen too much and continued eating as if nothing had happened.

Demo suddenly got up in a huff and left the room, an indecipherable haze of curse words trailing in his wake. Soldier bolted after him and the shuffling left Heavy and Sniper quiet for a moment.

Pyro ate and said nothing, praying for dinner to be over. Soon enough, Medic took his arm and led him back to the doctor’s quarters. He could finally relax, away from their prying eyes.

“Hey, Doc,” Engineer caught them just as they got to the door. The German smiled warmly.

“Hello, Engineer. Can I help you?” Pyro stood between Medic and the wall, tensed up and unsure of what to do. He chose to keep his gaze on his own feet.

“Was just wonderin’ when you were plannin’ on paying me back for the project I did for ya.” Pyro could feel the eyes on him and fumed silently.

“Ah,” Medic opened the door, “Come in, we shall discuss the terms of your repayment. Mädchen, you may sit at my feet.”
Medic took a seat in the little sitting area, watching Engineer calmly. As much as he didn’t want to, Pyro plopped himself down beside Medic on the floor. He crossed his legs and the doctor set a hand on his shoulder.

The Texan didn’t sit and remained standing. Now that the door was closed, Medic dropped all pretenses, “You may have her tomorrow evening.”

Pyro balked, “What?”

“I did not give you permission to speak, Mädchen. Engineer, I am keeping her for the night.”

What? He was being bartered like some kind of currency?

“No, you can’t do this,” Pyro continued, looking up at Medic in disbelief, “I’ve been good!”

Medic backhanded the boy hard, rendering him silent. Pyro didn’t turn his head back, sucking on the new cut formed where his teeth had cut the inside of his cheek. “Yes, you have been good. Right now however, you are being insubordinate. Let the men talk.” No, Pyro couldn’t handle this.

“I’m not going to just let you fucking give me to people,” he snarled, backing away from Medic and rising to his feet.

“Stay on the floor,” the doctor warned. His voice was freezing up and his face crinkled in anger. Pyro ignored him and stood up.

“You can’t do this, I didn’t agree to this,” Pyro stammered on. He didn’t want to fuck Engineer again, he hated Engineer, he hated Engineer almost as much as he hated Soldier. The Texan watched him with thirsty eyes and Pyro wanted to throw up.

Medic moved quickly and grabbed the smaller hand, closing it into a fist and pressing Pyro’s finger up into his own palm. The boy cried in pain and tried to pull away, but Medic was immobile. With a quick snap, the finger broke.

Tears welled in Pyro’s eyes, but he blinked them away quickly. This was nothing compared to what he endured on a daily basis.

“No, Engineer, you are right,” Medic’s words were empty and rung against Pyro’s ears like a death toll. “You may have her tonight. You may do with her as you may, but no one else is to be involved. Only you.”

The boy’s mouth opened slightly and he yanked his hand from Medic’s grip. His finger ached sharply and he held it to his chest. Something clamped down on his shoulder; Engineer’s hand.
Engineer hauled Pyro close to himself and squeezed his thumb into the pressure point at Pyro’s collarbone. Instantly the boy went limp, his struggles ceasing entirely as he cried with hurt.

“No problem, doc. I’ll take good care of the little missy,” Engineer hissed in Pyro’s ear, “We’ll get those behavioral problems taken care of, won’t we?” His legs suddenly felt weak and Pyro realized what exactly he had done.

‘Fuck.’

His hand and his chest ached bitterly.

“Would you like me to heal her first?” Medic asked casually. His eyes watched the gasping Pyro with a detached interest.

“Actually yeah, if y’don’t mind doc. I’d like a clean slate t’work with.”

Pyro let out a low breath as the medigun was trained on him. The warm glow was calming and his body instinctively relaxed in Engineer’s grip.

Medic came close to him after he was healed. “I suggest that you obey him,” he warned, grabbing Pyro’s chin and forcing their lips together for a brief second. “Only yourself, Engineer.”

“Of course doc,” the Texan drawled. “Guess we should get goin’.”

“Yes,” Medic agreed, “Oh, by the way,” he rose and disappeared through a second door in the room. That one connected to the medical bay. “Given your preferences, I have something to… help you this evening, Engineer.”

“Do you now?” Engineer’s voice crackled with desire. He held Pyro tighter, practically grinding their bodies together as he followed Medic.

“Indeed,” Medic rifled through a cabinet and took out a small case. Pyro tried to look at it, see what it was, but Engineer forced him to turn away.

“Well thank you very much,” he nodded and took what Medic gave him, “This will definitely aid our trainin’ session. Now come on girl, let’s get this horse on the track.”

Pyro’s stomach fell as Engineer led him out of the room. They encountered no one and Pyro couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. Where was Spy? Would the Frenchman save him from this?

‘Probably not, the fucking prick.’

Engineer’s room was lined with shelves, all neatly packed with books. It was like a whole library crammed into one room. Glancing at the ordered rows, Pyro made out a few titles. Thick instructional manuals. College-level textbooks on physics, chemistry, electrical engineering, laser technology. Hand-bound blueprints and notebooks upon notebooks upon notebooks.

No wonder the Texan was so brilliant.

Instead of taking him to the bed, however, Engineer led Pyro to the workshop and locked the door behind them.

“Take a seat on that table,” he instructed as he walked over to another door in the shop. The room beyond it was almost like an office of sorts, with more shelves, a stack of cabinets, and a desk along with a large light-up table for drawing blueprints.

“Y’like beer, missy?” he threw a glance over his shoulder, disappearing into the room. Pyro looked at the metal table Engineer had indicated and glumly plopped down onto it. Engineer emerged from the small office, two frosty and open brown bottles in his hands. He handed one to Pyro.

“Drink up,” he clinked the bottles together, “It’s best that you be relaxed.” Pyro’s eyebrows rose of their own accord. What was Engineer planning?

The cold glass was nice against his lips and he drank the bitter liquid gratefully. Maybe Engineer had a point; if he was drunk, maybe he could convince himself that it felt good. Blue eyes locked on him as they drank in silence. When he finished, Engineer silently brought him a second, a third, and then a fourth.

The beer was icy and good and Pyro could feel his body unwinding, his muscles loosening for the first time in days. He felt like maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Engineer apparently decided that that was enough alcohol and brought Pyro to the end of the table so that he could kiss his captive. He positioned himself, standing, between the muscular thighs as his hands roamed Pyro’s torso.

Cool, hard fingers brushed against his bare chest and Pyro shuddered, trying to return the sloppy kiss as best he could. He didn’t want to incur more pain than necessary. He was so sick of hurting, so sick of the broken bones and stinging bruises that had decorated his body almost constantly for the past week or so. How long had it been like this now? Pyro felt like he’d been stuck in this nightmare for an eternity.

Engineer laid him down, his humid skin shocked against the frigid metal table, and buckled his wrists and ankles into leather straps at the corners of the table. Pyro didn’t fight and realized all of a sudden that he felt dizzy and warm. Every muscle slowly melted into butter and he tried to struggle but his limbs refused to cooperate. How was he this drunk when he had only had four beers?

His mind churned slowly, trying to understand. Engineer had gone back into the little office each time to get the bottles, and while Pyro had heard the pop of the caps, he hadn’t seen Engineer open them.

Engineer had laced the beer.

“Something’s wrong,” he whispered weakly, barely able to force his lips to move. Engineer only laughed. The sound chilled Pyro’s blood.

The Texan had moved away and Pyro couldn’t see him at this angle, could only hear him. Things clicked together, metal and plastic and glass, and then Engineer returned. He had put on thick rubber gloves and was holding a thick, tapered steel shaft, about eight inches long, with a black cord trailing from it.

Pyro swallowed against the dryness in his throat.

“Y’see, electrical engineering is my specialty,” Engineer set the wand down and produced a pair of thick shears from apparently nowhere. He lifted Pyro’s shirt and began to cut it off.

The boy turned his face away, refusing to watch as his clothing was removed. The air was freezing against his skin and he closed his eyes just as something warm and wet was poured over him. Engineer proceeded to massage the wetly viscous liquid into his skin. Pyro couldn’t help it, he looked. It smelled familiar, but what the hell was it? He caught a glimpse of a clear glass bottle on the counter.

Olive oil. Engineer was covering him with olive oil. Pyro was confused and had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that the hands on him felt wonderful. Weakly, he tried to press against the touches. The Texan worked the oil into his chest, his neck, his belly, between his legs, inside of his slit. Engineer fingered him for a long time, fingered him until Pyro could feel the sweat rolling down his body.

The digits left him and Pyro breathed out a long sigh, only to be assaulted again as the thick fingers pressed into his anus. It didn’t hurt, Engineer took his time and thoroughly stretched and teased both holes until Pyro was trembling on the table, gasps pouring forth from his mouth. Every inch of skin was thoroughly saturated with the slick fluid and finally Engineer seemed satisfied and set the bottle aside. Pyro looked at him with questioning eyes, but received no answer.

A low buzzing started up, he couldn’t see where it was coming from, and the boy jerked hard as something hot was pressed to his neck.

Engineer stood above him, grinning widely, holding the steel against his skin. The heat spread out quickly and Pyro realized it wasn’t hot at all; it was electric. That steel shaft was an electrical wand of sorts.

“Engineer,” he whispered, seized with fear. It didn’t hurt right now, it felt kind of good, but Pyro had no doubt it wouldn’t feel good for long.

“Now you shush up,” the man answered, kissing Pyro on the lips again as the wand trailed down his body and traced his nipples. Pyro moaned and he wriggled in the restraints. It felt like sharp heated tongues licking against his flesh.

Engineer turned the dial up, eyes on Pyro. A sudden convulsion seized the boy and he heard himself scream. His whole body drew tight and it felt like every muscle snapped in half. Then it was gone. Pyro gasped for air.

“No-“ Pyro’s words dissolved into a scream again as the metal wand was pressed against his belly, his inner thighs. It felt like burning and frostbite at the same time, it felt like his heart was going to stop. The warm tip caressed his clitoris for a brief second before it was plunged into him. Hisses and whimpers escaped his throat as his body undulated against the table. Engineer fucked him with it for a few hard strokes and
Pyro cried when the toy was withdrawn.

Engineer turned the dial up again before he drove the wand back into the boy’s cunt.

Black agony erupted throughout every nerve and Pyro’s mind collapsed in on itself. He floated, formless, for a long eternity before he was brought back. His face stung and he realized why; Engineer had slapped the hell out of him to bring him back. Pyro opened his eyes and stared up at his tormentor as his chest heaved. Funny, it didn’t feel like was breathing at all.

Engineer chuckled and picked up the grey case that Medic had given him. “And this is why Doc sent us home with a care package.” There was a soft click as the case was opened, then simple rustling for a few minutes. Pyro trembled on the table, trying to gain his bearings. It was only a few moments until Engineer came back, a syringe held between his hard fingers. The Texan tapped the plunger to rid the chamber of any remaining air bubbles.

The boy tried to talk, plead, anything, but his mouth refused to work.

“Just another practical problem with a practical solution,” Engineer virtually purred as wrapped a spare cord around Pyro’s upper arm. He knotted it tight and watched the veins rise above the skin. Choosing a particularly fat one, he slid the needle cleanly beneath Pyro’s skin and pushed the plunger.

Pyro groaned. “Please,” he managed to gasp. His vertigo increased tenfold and he felt the world spin around him.
Everything seemed to pick up speed and the colors screamed at him with their passion. He could feel every single nerve vibrating in his body, all traces of pain gone. Engineer untied the cord from his arm.

“And one for the doctor.” Numbly, Pyro watched the Texan inject himself with whatever remained in the ampoule.

His heartbeat increased wildly over the course of a few seconds and he could hear it counting time like steady earthquakes in his head. It felt like his blood had been replaced by delicious fire.

Hands caressed his body and he moaned with pleasure. Every single touch felt so mind-blowingly good and for a few minutes Pyro forgot what pain was. Engineer was suddenly naked and Pyro looked at the stocky body with a hunger he had never felt before. The short Texan was built like a miniature steer, compact with heavy solid muscles and a generous covering of body hair. As his feverish eyes tracked Engineer’s body, Pyro blinked. Something didn’t look right about the other man. Pyro sat up and reached for Engineer, desperate for contact. As Engineer obliged the boy’s need for touch with hands and lips, Pyro realized what was different.

Engineer had both of his normal, human hands, meaning he had chosen to respawn without the gunslinger. A question from Scout during dinner a few months ago had informed the entire team that Engineer could reset the machine to spawn him with or without the metal appendage.

The Texan pulled away from him and Pyro’s thoughts were abruptly terminated. He watched Engineer rub himself down with olive oil, mostly around his waist. He reached into a cabinet and withdrew a thick, wide circle of knotted metal links. It almost looked like a belt. A cord draped off the side and plugged into a dull-green steel box with several gauges and dials. The metal shaft was plugged into that too, Pyro noticed.

Engineer wrapped the belt around his waist, secured it, and pressed a switch on the side of the green box. The machine hummed. A few knobs were turned and the Texan grunted. He was grounded now and the electricity wouldn’t harm him. He came back to Pyro and grabbed the smaller body.

Pyro wailed as white-hot fingertips of electricity traced over him, grasped him and pulled him close. Everywhere Engineer touched him, his skin burned. His thighs were spread and then Engineer was inside of him. The Texan bucked against Pyro, grunting with each thrust. Pyro couldn’t tell if it hurt or not and simply tried to stop screaming. He resigned himself to grinding his teeth so hard he could hear them screeching in his head.

Engineer smacked him across the face again and something was pushed into his mouth, then wrapped around his head. A gag. Pyro chewed on the rubber bit and ground himself against Engineer, his constant screams becoming muffled cries and sobs. Somehow it was agony and bliss at the same time as their oily bodies slipped and slid together. The slick hands gripped him as tightly as they could and Pyro could feel his orgasm approaching.

“Ngneer,” he whined through the mouthful of rubber, rolling his hips in time with the Texan’s persistent movement.

The sweet heat wrapped around Engineer’s cock throbbed and clenched down, tightening around his shaft as Pyro came in forceful spurts. Engineer groaned and slowly forced himself to stop before he followed the boy into the abyss. Reaching over, he turned the green box off.

Pyro sobbed on the table, “Pls,” he begged. Short, thick hands rubbed and stroked his shoulders, kneading the strained muscles.

“Y’liked that entirely too much.” Engineer’s voice tried to be disdainful but failed, “This was supposed to be a punishment, and look at you. Throwing yourself on my cock like the little bitch you are.” Pyro was wrapped again in the larger man’s body.

“I know what y’want, little miss,” the Texan burred into his ear, “Y’never had a man treat ya proper and you’ve gotten confused. Think you can step up and run with the boys… Y’knew this was going to happen, I know ya did. Don’t worry hun, we’ll get ya right again.”

Curious fingers slid into his pussy, dribbling in his fluids and using them as lubricant to further stretch Pyro’s anus. He felt parts of his body ache in a strangely specific way and his mind trembled when he recognized what it was: burns. Electrical burns from the steel wand.

His mind raced unendingly, and his body disobeyed every coherent thought he could manage. The boy felt sick as he responded to every single one of Engineer’s touches. Pyro was rolled onto his stomach, knees tucked under him with his bottom in the air.

“Enngee,” Pyro pleaded around the rubber bit. The Texan got up on the table and slicked his shaft with more oil before pressing himself to his captive. Traumatized nerves flared to life as Engineer slid pass the tight ring, stretching and stretching and stretching.

‘Why is he fucking my ass?’ Pyro’s thoughts dissipated quickly as the man began to move.

Engineer grunted with nearly every thrust, sweat trickling down his face in fat drops as he fucked the delirious cuntboy. Pyro was whimpering and crying beneath him, left cheek pressed flat to the table as shaking hands clenched and unclenched in time with the pumping of Engineer’s hips.

“See,” Engineer voice was thick with lust, “Doesn’t it feel good to be used right?” he leaned down to suck at the scarred neck, not missing a beat, “Y’take it so well lil’ miss. That’s how I know you want it.”

The pressure surging inside of his body was increasing too fast and Pyro could feel that he was going to lose it again soon. With a desperate cry, he came, juices flowing wetly down his thighs. Engineer answered with a growl, fucking Pyro with quicker strokes.

It was exactly then that Pyro blacked out, conscious mind crashing from overstimulation. The boy wilted in Engineer’s grasp but that did not stop the brutal pace that the Texan had established. He lasted for another five minutes or so until he grit his teeth, moaning as he came. Engineer finally pulled away from the boy and sighed, content, as he sank into a nearby chair to catch his breath.

Pyro lay silently on the table, chest rising and falling evenly. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Engineer rose and took a rag from a metal shelf. He cleaned up the area, put the toys on the counter near the sink for cleaning, and carried Pyro to another closed door. Within was a small bathroom containing one large tub.

The boy woke up floating in comfortingly hot water. He had been scrubbed clean and was now being held tenderly against Engineer’s chest. He turned slightly, veins still buzzing with the drugs he had been given, and nuzzled himself into the crook of Engineer’s neck. His eyelids, well his entire body really, felt heavy.

“Such a good girl,” he heard Engineer murmur just as he fell back to sleep.

Yes, finally, an update! There were two false alarms already, I don't think I could have taken a third one without raging violently.

This one was packed with so many kinks: electrotorture, drug experimentation, bondage, it just keeps getting better and better!

Not to mention the developing plot; I wish Spy would stop being such an elusive bastard so that we can see some progression. I am glad to hear some news about Scout though (if spy was being truthful). I wonder if he and Pyro will have a chance to interact, thats going to be an incredibly awkward conversation.

Well...how can i say? Please, mr. Egg, have in mind i don't want to sound rude, since now i know you use this fanfic for somewhat therapeutic reasons (something i find pretty nice and i totally support). It would be a shame, to me, if the writer start to feel bad about something that he likes to write and that it's so healthily good to him, just because of something i said. But once you said you like criticism, so...

But the thing is this chapter...well, in my opinion, it was just more unnecessary porn. I know this is a porn work and stuff, but since you said to us that you would turn this piece of yours into something more cerebral.

It's sad to say, but i'm comming back to read this because it provides me with hardcore, ugly and bloody rape scenes i like so much...and barely for nothing more. It's not because it's deep or skilled thoughtful about storylines or characterization. It's basically because it arouses me to read so many violence. And correct me if i'm wrong, but this isn't your goal, i guess. Right?

For me, the chapter made no increment in the story, pratically no improve in inner development of the characters, and just showed a glimpse of plot-development: the spy's appearence, that actually looked a lot like his other appearences and it didn't add much more to your story. It was scene that could have gone in other previous chapter, that would have made no difference.

That said, i reiterate that i don't want to be unrespectful with ya, and that i'll continue to read this story, because i'm still waiting that cerebral turning you said you would made (that i bet it will be great), and i want to support your works. Good luck!

(P.S.: please, excuse my bad english...)

There isn't really a motive for this anymore beyond unfolding the plot. I'm just trying to get the ideas out of my head. If that means it's just some kind of fucked up porn, then that's okay with me. I want it out of my head (but I want to entertain someone, even if it's just one person, at the same time).

I'm really working hard on this, harder than I have EVER worked on any kind of fanfiction, and it feels like not many people are getting it. Should I just stop posting this? Would someone be willing to tell me what needs to be different?

Thanks.

EggWhites,

I honestly have not enjoyed a dark a/fic like this in a very long time. I think the internal monologue that you have Pyro go through is perfectly cerebral for someone who is being consistently traumatized. Your ability to show vs. tell what is going on astounds me and has me shaking out of joy and fear for Pyro time and time again. The relationship between Medic and Pyro is a perfect mix of endearing and despicable. The inherent malice in all the classes is everything I'd hope for in this type of fic. And most of all, despite the tone you still encourage the reader to cheer for the abused Fire-starter. Your ability to story tell beyond smut has made me care about Pyro. I hope you do not become dissuaded and are able to continue on in this story; you have my rapt attention.

Sincerely,
Some Anon type person.

>>63

Is that so? Well, now that you explained that, that ya want just a great piece of porn with some plot-twist, everything is pretty clear to me now, hehe.

The thing is that, mr. Egg, since ya said in another comment that you would do somethin' cerebral...well, by it, i understood a very deep development of other aspects of any story (you know...character inner evolution, little changes in the story structure and style, great plot development...this stuff).

And it wasn't becoming like that, so i criticized it. That's it.

But now that you had made yourself clear... well, don't stop writing of course. Can't you tell, by so many good reviews and oh-please-keep-going type of messages, that you are entertaining people. Well, i feel VERY entertained (ya can tell it just by my last review, i suppose), if ya need something said blunt, hehe.

And, above all, don't stop writing this because it makes you feel...better.

That said, i want you to know that i...well, didn't mean to upset ya, like ya sounded... it wasn't my purpose. I'm sorry.

And...the story, by itself, it's pretty different (for me, that is always looking for good non-con fanfics, it is. There aren't many non-con fanfics with some quality out there.) But it would look like something very near of a master piece if it had the items i had listed above (the cerebral stuff, hehe) plus the raw and naked violence that i love so much.


Well, that's my opinion. Sorry again if i had upset you...srsly.

65
No, please don't apologize. I really do appreciate criticism, I just get kind of butt hurt sometimes because I tend to get really insecure. It's not a good habit, but breaking it is hard as hell. I really like when I get people's opinions, good or not, even if I do act like a little prissy bitch. Thank you buddy.

64 Dear Anon,
Thank you... means a lot to me.
Love,
EggWhites


NOW THAT THE AUTHOR IS DONE BEING BUTTHURT, WE RESUME OUR SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING.

I'm really working hard on this, harder than I have EVER worked on any kind of fanfiction, and it feels like not many people are getting it. Should I just stop posting this? Would someone be willing to tell me what needs to be different?
You show that the team's refusal to acknowledge Pyro's real gender is akin to a mental rape. If that's one of the cerebral things you're trying to convey, then I do see it.

No, I wouldn't recommend quitting any fic unless you've genuinely lost interest. If you're insecure, that's something you can work over. If you're insecure, you can edit it more, edit it less, make it more cerebral, or make it less cerebral and just turn it into rape porn. Whatever makes you feel better. As much as I love criticizing bad writing, I hate seeing insecure writers quit when the writer is genuinely trying to say something intelligent. It's too sad.

That being said, if you want someone to tell you what needs to be different in order for the fic to be more cerebral, start with the prose.

I disagree with >>64's statement that the narration is consistent for a traumatized person. I noticed in the last chapter and other chapters that you often describe Pyro's body with words like "sweet heat" and "quivering folds," even though the fic is from Pyro's 3rd-person POV. You said earlier that many transmen refuse to let others even see their vaginas, so why would Pyro, while being raped and gang-raped, think of his own private parts in such a gratuitous way? If Pyro was with Frank or any consensual lover, it might've worked. If it was from Engie's POV, it would at least be in-character. But it's neither.

I admit that these kinds of phrases do heighten the pornographic elements of the fic, but at the expense of characterization. And gratuitous sex at the expense of good characterization is the mark of non-cerebral porn.

Before someone shoots me for bumping this, hold your ponies. I have the next part written, but I desperately need a proof-reader. I think Pancakes may have been eaten by lemurs.

My email is posted. Thank you.

Y'can't just make a huge plot up and then write 2-3 chapters of unnecessary porn and turn it into a PWP-style story!

>>68
If Pyro was with Frank
I don't know if this is what you were going for with that statement, but when you said that Mimi, all I could think of was Frank from Tanner's Lessons. I just about lost my shit along with being mentally scared.

Anyways, Mr. Egg, I'm enjoying this fic, but for some reason I am really bugged by how much you re-tell that Pyro has lady bits. We get it, and I personally don't feel like it should be said so often. None the less, I will be sitting here waiting for more.

>>71

...wow. That was a terrible mistake on my part. I'd just read another story with a bisexual man named Frank, and I forgot that Pyro's old flame was actually called Brian. My point still stands regardless of the the name, but could hit myself in the face for being that dumb. Sorry, Eggwhites.

>>69

Well, maybe you can try the beta-finder on the Workshop. It's the thread 3289... it's not that famous, but maybe will help, who knows?

Well, as me, sorry if i don't candidate myself to read the chapter, it's i'll not work as a beta...i don't have a notion of english good enough to help...

Proof-read/edited/enhanced by Pancakes.


The rest of the evening was merely a hazy blur as Pyro faded in and out of consciousness. Some indiscriminate period of time later, he returned to the realm of the awake. It was cold, uncomfortably so, and he was fully dressed now. Lying flat on his back.

Opening his eyes was difficult. At first he wasn’t sure he could; everything remained black. Then he adjusted, noticing the soft red glow beneath him. He was laid on a table in the respawn room and he didn’t have to look to know that the doors were locked.

Pyro sighed.

“What is wrong, amour?” He refrained from flinching and remained quiet. Hands on his shoulders; Spy was standing at the head of the table, apparently still cloaked. Pyro pulled away and sat up, turning to face where he thought Spy would be. As he settled himself, the Frenchman appeared before him and withdrew a cigarette from one of his apparently endless jacket pockets.

Spy lit it and offered it to the boy, who didn’t even look up. Undaunted, Spy took a casual drag and exhaled through his nostrils. Pyro turned away from him and for a minute, Spy wondered if he should speak or allow Pyro to drown in the silence. Choosing the latter, he sat on the table, his thighs lightly brushing against Pyro.

The boy didn’t move, didn’t even indicate that he noticed Spy’s presence at all. He stared at the wall, unresponsive save for the slight rising and falling of his chest.

Spy smoked his cigarette slowly and then put an arm around Pyro. For a long, long time, nothing happened, the room as still as the eye of a hurricane. And then, movement. The thin shoulders shook under Spy’s arm, slightly at first and then in great silent heaves as if Pyro were choking. Spy stole a glance at the boy’s face. He was crying.

Spy flicked his cigarette to the cement floor, where the cherry flared defiantly for a moment before sighing into black.

Both of them stopped breathing for just a second when the doors rattled. There was a brief flicker and a quiet breath of air as Spy cloaked himself. Pyro felt him move off of the table but soon lost the invisible man.

‘What time is it?’ Pyro glanced at the clock hanging on the wall by the supply closet. Oh-two-hundred-eighteen. He wiped the tears from his cheeks automatically, thoughts turning over like river stones in his mind. Somehow, he was not afraid.

The chains on the door continued to rustle: whoever was on the other side was having trouble picking the lock. A muffled epithet drifted under the door and the metal links chimed together nosily. Another few moments passed before there was another curse, a click, and then the clatter of the chains being unwound from the knobs. The doors swung open slowly and another man came forward.

Pyro gasped as everything came together in an instant. Spy’s mood swings, the elusive and evasive behavior, even his manner of speaking! How could he have not noticed? Spy even spoke differently at different times, different terminology. He had been so stupid!

A second RED spy entered the room, closing the doors behind him, looking at the floor rather than at Pyro. He lingered near the wall like a disease. “I’m not as powerful as I seem.”

Pyro stared at the thin man, unable to comprehend the situation. Was this the BLU spy? Or was the other spy the BLU? He had no idea and said nothing. His skin ached and he suddenly remembered being with Engineer. The wand. The electrical burns. Of course, that’s why he hurt so much.

Pyro and the new Spy stood there for what felt like an hour, staring at each other. Pyro was so shocked that he remained silent, waiting for something to happen. The world seemed surreal to him at that point, hyper-realistic, and he feared that an action as soft as a sigh might tear their very existence apart.

‘I have to do something.’ Just as Pyro opened his mouth to speak, the newcomer suddenly seized up and froze. The original spy appeared behind him in a shimmer of red, one arm around the second man’s throat.

“You are no spy,” the Frenchman spat, his voice punctuated solidly with distaste, “And now you will tell me who you are or I will kill you and find out for myself. Make your choice, monsieur. Quickly.”

The second spy swallowed, unsure what to do now that he was caught.

“I’m – I’m a – hey!” His accent cracked as Spy wormed an arm around his chest, reached into his jacket and yanked something out from within. A burst of electrical static lit up the room as the mask fell, and Spy stared at the BLU disguise kit in his hand in awe.

“What-“

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” Scout pivoted on his right foot, spinning to face Spy, his pistol drawn and cocked. “An’ don’t fuckin touch Pyro either!”

There was a charged moment, the gasp before the scream, as Scout and Spy stared each other down.

To both Scout and Pyro’s surprise, Spy’s reaction was only to laugh. It started as a burbling chuckle and rolled into a wave of snorting disdain. Neither of the younger men could think of anything to say until the Frenchman finally caught his breath and shook his head.

“Oh you pathetic little boy,” he snickered through his teeth and flipped the balisong shut, slipping both it and the BLU disguise kit into his jacket, “How could I have not known? Pitiable Scout. This explains everything, doesn’t it. You poor, poor bastard.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Scout spoke fast and low. He kept his gun steady on Spy and did not waver. “Get the fuck out.”

“And what will you do if I do not?” Spy replied as he lit another cigarette and lounged against the wall, “Kill me? I will respawn in moments and find you. Now I have your precious disguise kit and you do not.” As he spoke, whispers of smoke trickled from his lips and nostrils. They hung for a brief second in the still air before tumbling lazily to the floor like leaves, “I suppose that is how you have been hiding from your suitors, hm?”

Scout’s face flushed hard, “Look man, get out of here. I got shit to do and it don’t involve a spy who likes hearing himself talk.”

“Such strong words,” Spy was moving now, circling around Scout as a cobra might circle its prey. The younger man turned with the Frenchman and held his ground. “Such strong words for the boy who so frequently bends over for the filthy workhand and the filthy bushman.”

Scout’s face was now as scarlet as his shirt and he said nothing. His whole body started to tremble. Spy laughed again, an ugly sound that shrieked across the dead air, and took another step closer to Scout.

“I take it you do not prefer their company? Shame,” Spy’s fingers curled around the thin filter and he flicked it to the floor, grinding it into cement with the toe of his black Italian wingtip. Pyro’s gaze flickered to the first charcoal smudge from earlier. He felt like he had been turned to stone.

Spy’s hands slipped casually into his pockets. “Perhaps I could be of some assistance.”

Scout’s blue eyes widened.

“No, I -“ Spy moved too quickly for eyes to follow, knocking the weapon out of Scout’s sweaty grip and thrusting his back to the wall. One hand squeezed around the nape of the boy’s neck, the other clutched the knife against his pale throat. With a low cry, Scout tried to struggle and abruptly stilled when the blade bit through the top layers of flesh.

“Listen closely, cheri, for I will only say this once. I will protect you from Engineer and Sniper in exchange for certain,” Spy smiled and Pyro couldn’t believe how horrid it was, “Favors.”

“… Seriously? How original, you’re just going to pull what Medic - ” Scout choked as he was kneed, hard and quick, in the stomach.

“Answer me or I will kill you in the slowest and most painful way possible and then deliver you to your boyfriends anyway. I will return your disguise kit and keep you from them if and only if you agree to this.”

The boy still hacked uncontrollably, unable to speak as he heaved. Spy held him as tightly as ever, keeping Scout firmly entrapped. Tears streamed down the boy’s inflamed face from the coughing fit and finally he took a shaky breath. His eyes refused to meet Spy’s, staring distantly into empty space.

“I refuse,” he spit abruptly, and then kicked his knee up as hard as he could, trying to mimic what Spy had done to him. Spy caught Scout’s leg almost immediately and then pushed him sideways with a great shove. Scout crashed to the ground like a statue and then Spy was on him. The boy grunted in pain as he felt the blade jab into his arm. He started kicking furiously.

Just as Pyro came back to himself, finally in control of his body again, Spy had effectively pinned Scout flat, the younger man’s belly to the floor. A hand was wrapped tightly around the Scout’s throat.

“You little bitch,” Spy snarled; froth flecked the man’s lips. Scout stilled, wheezing with every breath, and closed his eyes. The shiver returned to his limbs and he shook beneath the other man.

Pyro remembered seeing Scout at the mercy of the Engineer and Sniper, bound and bleeding. There was no way he could let that happen again. Almost automatically, he rose from the table and tackled Spy, graceless as a drunk.

“Pyro,” Scout’s voice resonated like a thunderclap, “Don’t!”

All too quickly, fire erupted, blossomed and twisted in Pyro’s belly. He fell backwards onto the ground, suddenly weak and boneless. A hand went to his stomach to soothe the hurt and came away painted with tacky scarlet. The cobra had struck, desperate to defend its catch.

“Stay out of this, girl,” the Frenchman snarled, and kicked Scout back to the ground when he tried to rise.

Scout laid there, thoughts cracking like broken bones within his head, forgetting Pyro for a split second. He had no doubt that Spy would hand him over to Engineer and Sniper. Now, with neither the cloak nor the disguise kit, it would be nearly impossible to hide from them, like it had been in the beginning.

“This is your last chance,” Spy’s lips curled, “Cheri.”

Or he could let Spy protect him in exchange for… the same thing. But it wouldn’t be two of them and hopefully – hopefully – Spy wouldn’t be nearly as rough. Scout remembered watching Spy take Pyro, during the first time. When Scout had participated. Internally, he burned with shame. At the time, he had been too scared; he didn’t want them to turn on him. So he had fucked Pyro at Sniper’s threatened command and then fled.

A moment of time sprung into Scout’s mind. The way Spy had caressed Pyro, whispering to calm the frightened boy down. Spy had been gentle, almost loving, with him. Scout’s gut knotted.

“F-fine.”

Spy smiled now, broad and bright, and helped Scout to his feet. The younger man’s eyes fell on Pyro, sprawled on the floor and gurgling blood. Red stained Pyro’s hands, clothes, and gathered on the floor in a sticky puddle.

“Do not mind her,” Spy whispered in Scout’s ear. The Frenchman was much too enthused about this new turn of events to wait until he had Scout in his room. He estimated that it would take Pyro about twelve minutes to die and five minutes to respawn; more than enough time for him to have his boy and slake his thirst.

Forcefully, Spy pushed his victim to the floor so that Scout knelt before him.

Pyro gasped uselessly in the corner, willing himself to die quicker so that he could pry the monster from his friend. His friend? His only ally.

Dimming eyes watched silently as Spy’s aristocratic hands unzipped his fly, withdrew his hardening cock.

“Open your mouth,” came the instructions. Eyes squeezed shut, Scout obeyed. “Go on now, boy, all of it.” Scout started to slowly gulp the shaft down. He was mildly surprised: Spy was gentle and worked with him rather than against him. Scout’s throat, being used to much more violent treatment, gave way smoothly and within a few minutes Spy was fucking the captive’s face with fast, even strokes.

Looking to the corner, Spy saw that Pyro had completely lost consciousness. Or at least it looked like it. He couldn’t tell if the boy was breathing, but didn’t really care either.

“Get up,” he murmured as he withdrew from Scout’s mouth, grasping himself and stroking firmly.

Pyro wasn’t unconscious. Staring at other two men, he wanted to scream.

Scout wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and shakily rose to his feet, refusing to look at the older man. He didn’t know how he felt. Spy had been much gentler than Engineer or Sniper had ever been, but still…

“Bend over for me.” The boy obeyed quietly, supporting himself on his elbows over the table and closing his eyes as he felt Spy’s hands slide up his shirt. Spy’s hands skimmed his stomach and unbuttoned his trousers, pulled them down his hips along with the briefs beneath. Hot palms stroked his hips, his ass, his thighs, his back.

Pyro could feel his muscles tensing. He could do this, just take a deep breath and do it!

“Relax,” the Frenchman soothed as he knelt and kissed Scout’s tailbone. Leather-clad hands spread Scout open and the boy tensed as he felt warm breath over the sensitive skin.

Nearly driven mad with need, Spy let his tongue dart forth, lapping around the tight pucker. He was rewarded with a gasping cry from Scout. He allowed himself to enjoy a few long, greedy licks before he straightened up – he only had ten minutes, at most.

Pyro inhaled slowly and whimpered. It hurt to breathe. Clamping his arm tighter to his belly, he gathered himself. He would save Scout. He had to save Scout!

Kissing Scout’s naked neck, Spy pulled off one glove. He pressed his fingers to Scout’s mouth, who compliantly sucked the digit between swollen lips. Scout laved the fingers thoroughly with saliva, drawing a low purr from Spy’s throat. Finally he pulled his hand from Scout’s mouth and gently worked it into the boy’s body. Scout remained still, not reacting save for the minute tremors that still plagued him. Spy did not take long to prepare Scout, and spit on his palm to lubricate himself. He pressed his cockhead to the soft wet flesh.

“Be still,” Spy crooned, “Relax for me. Take a deep breath.”

Scout obeyed.

Pyro wanted to cry. Slowly, he struggled to his feet, only to tumble backwards again.

“Now, slowly, exhale.” The boy let the air leave his lungs, and then huffed as Spy slid effortlessly into him. There was no pain, no discomfort. It was not like Engineer and Sniper at all.

Scout gasped as the Frenchman began to thrust, slow and steady. Pulling his lips from Scout’s fragrant young flesh, Spy made a quiet noise of pleasure. His boy was so warm, so tight, so wet inside. How dare those filthy vagrants touch his boy! But no matter, now Scout was his at last.

Pyro went limp on the floor, warmth leaving his limbs at an alarming rate. He closed his eyes.

Scout quivered on the table, unable to comprehend the electricity crackling through him. Spy was gentle. He still didn’t enjoy it, but by God it didn’t hurt. He was quiet, save for the occasional gasp, as Spy fucked him. The man didn’t last long and came with a sigh, his last thrusts like waves lapping gently at shore.

When Spy withdrew, Scout could have sworn that he felt emptier than usual.

-~-~-~-

Pyro came back to his senses with a disconcerting jolt. He pulled his gasmask off and listened, his eyes still shut. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see what has happening just yet.

To his surprise, he heard only soft breathing and the regular hum of respawn. The room was warmer than it had been (or at least it felt like it) and Pyro could smell the musk of sex. He opened his eyes.

Scout was sitting on the table next to him, fully clothed, looking at the floor. The disguise kit and his pistol sat beside him.

“Where is Spy?” Pyro asked quietly.

“He left.” Scout gestured to the closed, but unlocked, doors. His body was taut, drawn like a bow.

“Why are you still here?” Pyro sat up, turning towards his fellow victim. No response. “Scout?”

“It’s not like I wanted it,” the younger man spoke fast. Picking up his gun, Scout turned and started to unload and reload the weapon compulsively. “I – they started doin’ that like four months ago. Just wanted to drink with him, y’know, actually hang out with someone. He was the only one who was nice to me at all, everyone else just treated me like a fuckin kid. He put somethin’ in the fuckin beer.”

Scout was talking much too fast for Pyro to even think of getting a word in. “You’re always in the basement, y’never knew. And I won’t lie, when they found out about you, they left me alone. I’m sorry I did it, that one time. If I hadn’t they woulda fucked me too. I’m a coward Pyro, and I’m sorry. I took the watch and the kit off a BLU spy like two months ago, it let me hide from them. An’ then they started getting you too and I couldn’t let ya suffer like I did. I fought them, I fought ‘em like hell but they’re just too strong. It’s like Engie always knows where I am, even if I’m cloaked or disguised.”

Scout said all of this almost in one breath, his voice as flat as the tables they sat upon. His voice betrayed no emotion, and neither did his body language.

Pyro just stared.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” he sputtered, unsure of what else to say. His back ached and he tried to stretch and relieve the pain. He remained silent as Scout rose to his feet, gathered his things, and left the room.

Pyro sat for a minute or two, replaying the night’s events in his head. He looked at the table. His back hurt too much for him to sleep on it again tonight. But what else could he do?

His eyes traced over the double doors, still open from when Scout had broken in earlier. Ah, an idea.

He stood and headed for Medic’s quarters, padding quietly along the cavernous hallways. Pyro knocked and prayed that the German wouldn’t be angry.

It took Medic about a minute to answer, the door opening slowly as dark blue eyes blinked, unfocused, from within. When Medic realized whom he was looking at, his face curled in a nasty scowl.

“Pyro?” Medic asked, his voice dangerously edged.

“Can I sleep with you please, I miss you,” Pyro muttered and turned his face to the ground. There was only a small chance that this would work, and he could feel his stomach threatening to empty itself. Finally, Medic answered.

“Oh little Pyro,” one could feel the barely controlled glee in the man’s voice, “Of course you may.”

A few minutes later found Pyro, naked, in bed next to his persecutor. He was turned on his side, facing Medic, with one thick arm wrapped tightly around his body. Pyro sighed, strangely content despite his intrinsic hatred for the man. Nothing hurt. Instead he was cuddled in warm, soft sheets that smelled like Medic’s aftershave.

“I knew you were a good boy,” Medic murmured to him and kissed the top of his head, kissed his cheek, kissed his lips chastely. Pyro let his body relax into the soft mattress. So, so much better than the hard metal tables in respawn.

“Thank you.”

“Bitte. Now sleep, little one.”

Well, that's that mystery cleared up! A shame it cleared up in such a dismal fashion for Pyro alike though, as now he's lost what was possibly his most valuable ally to the fear from the actual Spy. I was, however, a bit confused about why Pyro would go crawling back to Medic like that. I should think a sore back is less of a problem than having to deal with the man who's been abusing him all this time.

I don't know how many of you were aware of the kerfuffle over that mpreg fic with the trans* Medic that I pointed out problems with, but one of the main complaints about my criticism of it was that I had not admonished the author of this fic at all. Admittedly the first time I tried to read this fic the formatting threw me off and I stopped reading after a couple of paragraphs. But since it's been bumped I tried to read it again.

And I can't read this. I just can't.

This is the most vile fan fiction I've ever read in my life. I could not even complete the first chapter because of the blood rushing to my face and my vision blurring and my stomach feeling sick. Just reading the comments I am to understand that this is basically "PYRO GETS RAPED ALL THE TIME: THE FAN FICTION." I really wish I could read this fic more to give an objective opinion but all I see are the mercenaries reduced to one-dimensional rape machines that exist only to torment the possible self-insert Pyro for no other reason than that they're evil or maybe it's just Medic that's evil I don't even know.

And it sucks.

I mean it. This is awful. It lacks subtlety and depth and every last one of you calling this "cerebral" has demonstrated that you wouldn't know "cerebral" if it whacked you upside the head with a Godspeed You! Black Emperor vinyl and a copy of Johnathan Livingston Seagull. This is the literary equivalent of an exploitation film that seems to have taken way too long for any kind of pay off unless you really enjoy a character being raped over and over.

I really do feel like that this fic is not being criticized because you are trans*, EggWhites. If you weren't trans* and writing this same fic the entire chan would be shredding into this, and rightly so. I mean I know this is you working out issues and all but seriously. It reads like a sleazy exploitation novel except you want it to be DEEP and EMOTIONAL but you can't have it both ways. You can't have your graphic depictions of rape paired with flat, cartoonish characterization and expect to be taken as anything other than what it is: sleaze. I don't mind sleaze at all but nothing pisses me off more than sleaze and shock paired with pretentiousness. You have no concept of what tone to use for something supposed to be this heavy and it shows in just the very first installment.

Somebody's gotta say it.

I feel like reading this is like watching a snuff film.

>>76

This is exactly why I avoid the hell out of "X is raped and tortured endlessly by his teammates/enemies" stories. I've seen several of them on the chan, and the all made my skin crawl. They have nothing to do with profound psychological exploration, and everything to do with the author's masochistic, thinly-veiled self-insertion rape fantasies.

I'm in no position to pass judgement on a person for having bizarre kinks or enjoying gratuitous non-con, but it makes me feel a bit better to know that I'm not the only one who was creeped the fuck out by this story and its ilk.

Have to agree with Cat and yang here. I don't doubt that there are people here and out there who enjoy this sort of thing. But to me, this comes off as a story written from the rapist's point of view. All the excuses, all the rationalizations, all the burdens in this plot are textbook examples of rape culture. It's hard to stomach, not because it's rape, but because in this story you've ok'd it. There's way too much of that in real life already.

>>76

I don't usually comment on fanfics, but I must say I do agree with Cat with this. This story is flat, one-dimensional, and all-around bad. I mean, non-con and guro are fine in their own respective arenas, but even they need to be tastefully done. This is completely DIStasteful. There's no excuse as to WHY everyone is being abusive sex-driven animalistic rape machines. Simply saying that it's because they "haven't seen a woman in a while" is a cheap excuse. That's not enough to turn people in "oh look, someone with a vagina, let's rape her" people. Does RED have some sort of question on their application that asks "ARE YOU A RAPIST?"

This fic really seems like it's mindless, gratuitous "OH, POOR POOR PYRO EVERYONE IS SO MEAN". Hell, you could probably even remove the whole trans part of it and it wouldn't affect the overall story at all. It doesn't add a layer of depth to the story because the story HAS no depth to begin with.

I absolutely agree with the above comments here. I kind of bumbled into this a while ago assuming it was a Divine Comedy crossover (what was I thinking) and bailed out when stuff started getting scary, but I saw it near the top of the list again and came back out of morbid curiosity.

Non-con and gratuitous rape fantasy fics are fine and dandy but I think it's really important to recognize them as such. Trying to integrate meaning and complexity into that stuff is tricky and this fic is a spectacular failure in that regard. Your explained reasoning for leaving out Demoman is that "Every other class I can see as possibly being a real person, with real feelings and real thoughts", and yet not a single character here is written as such. Not by a long shot. Every character is either under column "feeble sex slave suffering from bizarre pseudo-Stockholm Syndrome" or column "heartless mindless super-sadist rape machine." Maybe these are good for indulgent porn, but they're flat and uninteresting and not at all conductive to a decent story.

Porn for the sake of porn is great but trying to label this as having complexity or sensitivity in regards to anything is ridiculous. C'mon, dude, even de Sade novels contain a sliver of introspection. You can't slap a doily on a turd and call it a centerpiece.

In short, agreed. I wish I had some sort of clever analogy or something wise to say-- I really don't, so I won't try.

It's a pornfic, and I see it at just that. A pornfic centered around the repetitive nature of Pyro's new rape-filled life. Perhaps it's paying homage to the repetitive nature of the game itself. Maybe it's meaningful.

But as I see it right now- it is merely a rapepornfic.

This post has been deleted.

I've read this probably a hundred times over...but it's nothing sort of fetishistic wank material. I've never believed otherwise from it. The frankly cringe-worthy attempts at making a plot out of it have just left me baffled, and I've found it easier to skip over any mention of names at all. That's a serious problem.

The only one of the rapey-characters that isn't just 'yup, that's a hole, in I go' in their behavior is Heavy, and he seems to forget that he apparently felt 'bad' about it and dives right back into 'yup, that's a lady hole' behavior. Each character is interchangeable, with absolutely nothing pointing out their differences.

We have the gameplay taunts, their roles in the game, and the Meet The ___ videos to base their characters off of. Sniper's a bit of a loner, but he has 'standards'. It's hard to buy him as just being a violent rapist for the sake of it. Soldier seems unconcerned with anything that isn't fighting, but he would probably try to push for the American ideal of 2.5 kids, a white picket fence, and a golden retriever if he did decide to go anywhere near a relationship. You get the idea, I'm sure.

In the first chapter, the hardest to read chapter due to the formatting, the characters all behave slightly differently. After that, they are each interchangeable and utterly indistinguishable.

Rather more disheartening is that you do mention demoman in one of your chapters, I think he's eating or some such, but he has no involvement whatsoever. He's a character with a lot of, well, character, and your non-inclusion of him when the rest of the characters have been reduced to mindless cocks that need a female hole to be satisfied with smacks of insanity.

The final thing is that they were hired to work as a team. Having two members of the team get regularly raped and assaulted to the point where they are taking BLU spy's shit to keep themselves safe probably wouldn't do so good for numbers on either side. Chances are there would be administrative work done, either by switching them to a different team (or is this the only nine?) or by firing the rapists and hiring new people. Most employers try not to make 77% of their workers rapists and have the remaining bit be easily overpowered and easily fucked. Even if we decide that somehow RED has no idea what's going on, what the fuck is stopping Pyro and Scout from quitting? It's not like working for RED is the only job available in the world.

I understand that since TF2 doesn't immediately present you with full character arcs for each character that it becomes a bit of a grab ass to fill in how you want them to be, but this has stripped out what made each character unique.

I suppose I can end it with how I started this: I have to remove their TF2 class names whenever I read it, because it is cringe-worthy to read about my favorite, goofy, TEAMmates being reduced to soulless, blank, flat rape monsters.

>>83
He's a character with a lot of, well, character, and your non-inclusion of him [...] smacks of insanity.
Don’t accuse people of having a mental disorder for not including Demo in their fanfics. I’m well-versed in both DSM-IV and ICD-10 and trust me, there’s no diagnosis of hypodemo fictitia listed in either.

>>84

Aplogies, Cyan. Wrote that rather early. I wasn't meaning literally that a mental disorder was behind the decision, but rather that there was no good reason to exclude Demoman, and the reason given was lackluster.

I suppose 'laziness' would have been a better word.

If you really hate this story that much, then don't read it. It's that simple. Or, alternatively, you can continue to line up and echo each other on how absolutely terrible it is.

Either way, I am going to finish this story and I don't care if everyone on this site hates it and/or hates me for it.

I think this is more a matter of people realizing it's okay to express their disgust over this story. Nobody suddenly decided to hate on it, they just saw they weren't a maverick loner in a forum full of people who love pointless exploitation dolled up as something deeper.

You're mature not to throw a hissy-fit over the fact that a bunch of people came out and admitted they can't stand this story.

>>86
That is toeing the line on fanfiction.net fanbrat behavior, which is not tolerated here. I suggest you rephrase that.

EggWhites, no one is saying "this is shit" without explaining to you why they think this isn't a successful story. If the criticisms seem repetitive, it's probably because the weaknesses in this story are repetitive. However, to my eyes the recent rash of criticisms do examine different aspects of this story and why they don't work, and instead of crossing your arms and essentially telling people to go to hell ("don't like don't read" and "la la la I can't hear you" are poor responses as an author who has knowingly posted their work for public reading and criticism) you could use them to improve your writing.

If you're hellbent on finishing it fine, but for goodness sake if you're not going to acknowledge this as strictly self-indulgent gratuitous wank then at least have the integrity as an author to acknowledge the glaring flaws in your story instead of declaring that anyone who doesn't like it must hate you.

Don't like, don't read is not an excuse. This fic is has a lot of problems, first among them is your inability to take in any critique and learn from it. Yes, you've improved somewhat in terms of sentence structure, but there's still incorrect punctuation all over the place.

The main flaw of your story is that it fails in its entirety to be "cerebral" as you call it. You've used the fact that it's fictitious to avoid facing that these characters have absolutely no root in reality. Even if all you're going for is a bit of rape wank material, there needs to be some psychological consistency for verisimiltude. You have none here. So the technical problems in your story are now compounded by the total lack of plausibility. We, as an audience, don't trust you enough to believe you.

In fact, when I first saw this I was able to wade about two sentences in before I dismissed it. It was only when I saw discussions about this story on tum blr that I returned and took another look. I can honestly say that this story wasn't worth my time reading. It wasn't before and it isn't now. That's really harsh to say and it's hard not to take it personally, but this is what you need to see and internalize to improve.

Discovery is an awful story. It's poorly executed and is unable to present any entertainment value as either a shallow plot or a complex one. It's vapid, rape for the sake of rape, and quite frankly minimizes the entire experience of being raped. You've taken all these characters we know and love, and gutted them for the sake of your original character. That's bad writing. We all go through it, but it's bad and if you want to move on from mediocrity, you need to recognize why it's bad and stop doing it.

Eggwhites, you can write this story all you want. But we can comment on it all we want. Now that the floodgates have opened, you either have to face up to the reality and revamp this story or endure the contempt of your audience. This isn't ff.net and we're certainly not obligated to make you feel better. If you post here, be prepared for concrit--often times very harsh concrit. And if you can't handle that, then you should consider your options.

>>86

SUCK IT UP.

You don't get to whine. You posted your horrible rape fic on a public website and when I finally stood up and told you that your shit stinks people actually felt like they didn't have to ignore it anymore and are giving you a piece of your mind. Quite frankly I shouldn't have been the one to initiate this and this should have happened a long fucking time ago. We've allowed this open wound to fester and pus for far too long and now it's gotten so bad that the only treatment is amputation.

Go ahead and finish writing this godawful trash if you want, but don't bitch when people are pointing out the same problems over and over. They're not parroting each other, it means your fic is fucked and you're too wrapped up in your own pretentiousness to realize that it sucks. This fic is as deep as a puddle of vomit.

How about instead of telling us not to read it if we don't like it, you don't post your fic where the public can see it if you don't like people saying it's awful.

How's that sound?

>>86
Looks like you have two choices, Eggwhites.
Now, you say you are writing this for the purposes of catharsis and/or self analysis. Far be it from me to stop you from gaining your insight, so I shall assume you will continue writing it.

One: This story stays and continues on the Chan, for all to see, and people are free to leave their negative comments, also for all to see (including you).

This is a risk you run. If you wear a hat out in public, expect it to be looked at. And if you wear a hat to a gathering of hatters and hat fans, expect them to comment.

Two: This story stops here on the Chan, and you continue writing it but start posting it elsewhere, in a private place.

This would be best, if the actual act of writing is what gives you the emotional outlet. None to comment on your bared nerves, and the words are vomited out as you wish.

However, if what you seek is validation of a rape-apologia-fantasy that others find repugnant, or the rush of humiliation from the abuse that it garners, you are in the wrong place.

It is simply rude and offensive to force others to take unwilling part in your therapy. There are other places on the internet where your story will be welcomed.

Thank you so much, chatty catty bountry, for starting up another Troll Fest.

>>93

It's not a troll fest, Anon.

It's an intervention.

>>94 This. If people were trolling the author, they'd be talking here about how they got raped by the cast of TF2 as well, or telling the author to slit their wrists and/or stop writing forever.

Everything disgusting, excessively violent, or woobie-ish that I've ever drawn or written was for my own sick thrills, humans are just like that. We all love to explore some of the things we hate. There's no shame in admitting you're doing something for grotesque arousal. I think the author does admit it, somewhere way back there, but most of the valid criticisms up until now have been ignored. You just can't post something like this and not expect a lot of emotional criticism.

I think that writing and art can be an important source of catharsis for people's gruesome fantasies, neurotic ideas, and fears. But a fanfic on a public forum is the wrong place to do it, if you expect other people to keep mum about seeing you transform characters they love into the souless rape-ghouls of your nightmares. Honestly, I was kind of relieved to discover I'm not the only one who's appalled by this kind of story. People only spoke up now because they realized that they weren't the only ones who felt disgusted by this, and felt that it was less a cerebral story that could educate people about the plight of transsexuals/rape victims, and more about exploitation and masochistic fantasty.

tl&dr: There's no rule saying the author can't continue writing this. There's also no rule saying people can't post their opinions on it, good OR bad.

>>92
It is simply rude and offensive to force others to take >unwilling part in your therapy.
We as commenters have the right to force our opinions via comment, but eggwhites doesn't get to post freely as well? get over yourselves, people.


What i've seen here is cat posts X and suddenly every lurker is like I AGREE WITH CAT. I get it, cat, you have a big following, and you do have good work, and you hate this story. What you did here wasn't just state your opinion, you've gone out of your way to dredge up drama. Any rebuttal from eggwhites has been met with YOU DON'T GET AN OPINION WE DON'T LIKE, NOW FOLLOW OUR OPINION.

seriously. Also, someone said they saw punctuation problems, where? I couldn't find very many at all.

>>94
Not sure if you're deliberately trolling or just retarded. Do you own the chan? no? Well then why are you trying to control the content on it?


TL;DR: There are people who like different things than you. Get over it.

>>96

White Knighting works on DA and FF; I don't really get the point of 'sticking up' for someone. It was more of an issue of no one voicing their opinions sooner (or outright avoiding the fic) because no one wanted to somehow find out they were completely wrong to feel put off by this.

The thing about this fic is that there is -nothing- that ties the characters to their own canon. Given that the canon is very malleable and gives tons of room for tweaking the characters, that's almost remarkable in its absurdity.

It's just a constant rape fantasy that really, REALLY emphasizes Pyro's female parts despite Pyro identifying as male; the story makes a point to constantly shift from describing Pyro as male to female in a rather jarring attempt to switch POV, but it seems to be more or less an excuse to describe Pyro sexually. Rape is not sexy, nor is it enjoyable for the victim; this fic seems centered on how good it feels and how Pyro is utterly helpless to do anything besides let them constantly rape him.

And instead of saying "oh, wow, I didn't realize this, can someone beta for me/help me out?", the author's response was "if you don't like it, don't read it, I'm posting it as is with no changes at all until it's finished". That shit's normally tackled ten times over as an obnoxious excuse, but instead it was given a thumbs up.

To put it in perspective: if someone wrote a 'kawaii desu desu sugoi' fic here and then declared it was part of their therapy, there wouldn't be this much White Knighting.

The fic itself is written alright; it's nothing to eagerly check for updates for, and the detail is sparse unless it involves more rape.

I think the only redeeming factor about the plot itself is that the Scout is apparently a good guy not-rapist; instead, he's a complete coward and apparently enjoys rape if it's painless. In the game, the Scout can deliver seriously punishing damage up close and is the fastest class; it seems grossly out of character and out of class skill set for him to be a weak pushover that surrenders to, of all people, the Spy.

It's just jarring to see every single character reduced to flat, emotionless sex robots that have nothing to do with their setting or canon. This story could have their names cut out, Respawn removed, and you could literally apply it to any other fandom in the world. Or give it original characters.

Another example, while I'm at it: what if someone wrote a story where Soldier was beaten up by the rest of the team constantly? Soldier would be crying, begging them to stop, and they would all be laughing wildly. And it'd happen ten times over, with different people focusing on him. And their only reason would be that he looked punchable. And that was it.

I think what's most baffling is that no one has a motive. They all just see that Pyro has a vagina, which Medic decided one day was reason enough to grab their teammate and have the entire team (minus demoman) rape him. And keep doing it. Because a vagina is the ultimate cause of pleasure. Even though they had no problem apparently fucking the scout prior to that.

I get liking a story. But there is no story here. This is browsing Redtube for a few minutes, stringing it together, and saying it was rape instead of consensual.

Eh, personally I can't stand how vulgar and mean Cat's posts usually are, but if we make the situations black-and-white, I tend to agree with Cat's position more often than not. My sentiments are in line with Obvious's; I was relieved to learn that I wasn't the only one that for a multitude of reasons couldn't get on-board with this fic.
If I were EggWhites, my feelings would probably be really, really hurt by this mass revolt against the fic, but I can't say that it's unjustified, and I can't say that EggWhites' response was the best. Truthfully I'll probably keep reading (or skimming) any future updates out of morbid curiosity.

Please please please mods can you just pop a cap in this thread's ass and end our misery?

>>99 No don't ! All the drama going on makes this thread a story on its own! It has amazingly thought out characters, drama, realism! I love seeing bumps, because then there'll be another fun opinion to mull over and agree/not agree with!