⚠️ EXPLICIT CONTENT WARNING⚠️
This chapter includes very graphic sex scenes, cum play, dirty talk, profanity, and raw sexual content.
Not suitable for anyone under 18. You have been warned.

A few months after my stepfather's hellish night, I was 21 years old. My body seemed to have healed outwardly, my anus had closed up, but inside the wound still burned, one that couldn't be smeared with anything. I was thin, as always, vulnerable like a thin branch that the wind could snap anytime. Grandma noticed something was wrong. I saw the silent screaming question in her eyes when I limped around the kitchen, or when I woke up screaming at night, drenched in sweat on the bed. But she didn't dare ask. She was afraid of it, or maybe she suspected what was going on in the dark corners of the house, she just stayed silent, as always about family sins. I locked myself in the silence too, because my stepfather's threat hung over my head like a guillotine: "If you tell anyone, I'll cut your throat like a pig's, and no one will cry for you."
*That brutal night... it still flashes up like a nightmare. My stepfather, that psychological terrorist who never hit with an open palm, only gnawed me apart from the inside, suddenly the beast burst out of him. He pinned me down in my room while my mother slept next door, as if nothing had happened. "This will make you a man, son," he panted in my ear as he thrust into me roughly, mercilessly, my anus tore open as if cut with a fiery blade. I screamed in pain, but he covered my mouth with his hand, his stench suffocated me, the threat whispered over my skin: "I'll cut your throat if you yell, and throw your dead body in the trash." After that, he left me bloody, humiliated, shaking on the floor. For days I could barely sit, the pain throbbed like a living, pus-filled wound. Grandma saw me hunched over in the kitchen, she put tea in front of me with trembling hands, but turned away, as if I were the shame. I went to the doctor alone, lied desperately: "An accident during masturbation, maybe hemorrhoids, I did it to myself." He saw the panic in my eyes, the tear in the flesh, but prescribed cream, antibiotics, painkillers. It took weeks for the wound to heal, every shit was torture, but the mental scar? It dug deeper than ever.*
József became my escape meanwhile, or so I thought. The married guy I met regularly in the dense forest, in hideouts. At first he was gentle, we tried kisses, slow caresses, penetration. But I trusted him enough to tell him about my stepfather's rape a few weeks ago. I thought it would bring us closer, that sharing my darkest secret would bond us, but something changed in his eyes. A sick fire awakened in him, that's where his selfishness started, the roughness. He always wanted what he wanted: rougher groping, harder sex. He pushed piss sex every time, "try it, wet and hot, unforgettable," but I firmly said no. It seemed he accepted it, but after our last forest meeting, he personally invited me: "Come to my place tomorrow, Tamás, my wife will be gone all day. Finally not on the ground, but comfortably, in my bed, in the bedroom." I was excited, hoping for a soft, normal night finally, where I didn't have to fear leaves.
I arrived at his house, it was a rundown, tasteless shack on the edge of the suburbs. Plaster peeled off the walls, rusty fence, piles of beer cans and cigarette butts at the entrance. Stepping in, cigarette smoke, the musty smell of old carpet, and unwashed dishes hit me immediately. In the living room, a worn couch in the middle, on the wall a photo of his wife smiling, as if she knew the filth going on here. József opened the door, his muscular body tense under the tight shirt, his bearded face grinned wide: "Come in, buddy, finally we can do it normally!" But István sat at the kitchen table next to him, a muscular blondish-brown guy, heavily stubbled jaw casting an aggressive shadow on his face, József's construction worker colleague, I knew him by sight from work. "Hi... István is here too?" I asked surprised, my stomach twisting into a knot. József waved it off laughing: "He knows everything about you, Tamás. He wants to try man sex too, it stays secret, I swear."
I was nervous, scared. Why did he bring in the other one? I trusted József, but this was too much. "I don't want it like this, József. Just the two of us, please," I said in a trembling voice, but they were already drinking beer. We opened 8-10 cans quickly, the alcohol hit my head like lightning because they pushed it: "Drink another one, relax, don't be so tense!" Continuous persuasion came, more and more pushy: "Just lick us once, threesome sex will be exciting, try the piss trial too. Wet, warm, unforgettable!" István nodded grinning, his stubbled mouth twisting: "Don't be a little slut, Tamás, József told me about you, you'll take it like with your stepfather." I was stubborn, even in drunkenness: "No, I don't want piss sex, and no threesome either! Let it stay a secret between the two of you, fuck!" It seemed they accepted it, they laughed, we drank more beer, but inside I felt the sticky trap closing around me. *Why did I believe József? Why did I tell him everything? That fire in his eyes... did he learn it from him?*
I went to piss in the filthy bathroom, the door slightly ajar. I heard their whispering from the kitchen: "This little virgin slut will give in quick if we get him drunker. Get the clothesline ready on the bed, if he says no again, we'll pin him down and do whatever we want with him." My heart pounded like a hammer, in my drunkenness I hoped I misheard, that it was a joke. I stepped out, and István appeared behind me, grabbed my shoulders with an iron grip, squeezing like steel handcuffs. "What the fuck are you doing?!" I yelled in panic, but József was already there, slapped my face, my skin burned, my lip split. "Shut up bitch, it'll be over sooner!" They both laughed, drunk with cruelty, while ripping off my clothes: tearing the shirt, pulling down pants, ripping off underwear. Naked, they threw me on the bed in the bedroom, the rumpled sheet stuck to my skin. They tied me with clothesline: twisted my hands behind my back roughly, the knots dug into my skin, spread my legs wide and tied them to the bed frame, my knees shook. I had no chance to defend myself, my thin body helpless against the two muscular construction workers. My mouth stayed free, but shaking I begged: "Please, József, stop it, I trusted you!" They slapped me again, harder: "We'll beat you to death if you speak again, you little whore!"
I trembled with fear, lying there barefoot, humiliated like a tied-up animal. First they undressed too, their muscular bodies sweated with lust, cocks hard pointing at me. They grinned, then pissed on me. Naked, directly on me. Hot, ammonia piss rained on my chest, stomach, anus, I gagged from the stinking smell, coughing trying to turn my head, but István grabbed my jaw: "Swallow the air, slut!" They pissed on me again, twice, I lay in the puddle of their piss, sticky, warm, disgusting. *Like a sewer, they threw me into this stinking puddle... why can't I escape?*
István sat on my mouth first, pressed his heavy ass on my mouth, ordered: "Lick my ass, deep!" He farted into it, disgusting intestinal gas spread in my mouth, bitter, warm, I nearly puked, gagging, but he pinched my nose: "Swallow it or I'll choke you!" Meanwhile József smeared lube on his cock, but didn't wait, didn't relax my anus. He thrust into me with full speed, mercilessly, pain stabbed into me like a dagger, I screamed from my throat: "Aaa, please, slower!" My prostate throbbed, seemed about to burst from the pace, I shook, tears ran down my face. *I prayed silently: let it be over already, God, why is this happening again?* István raped my mouth meanwhile, shoved his cock down my throat, I gagged, saliva and tears mixed, I suffocated. Then they switched: István took my anus, bigger, rougher, same speed, József fucked my mouth, I swallowed their saliva, tasted cum ahead.
As soon as it was over, I lay there tied in the piss, cum, my body hurt everywhere, soul crushed. Laughing they untied me: "If you tell anyone, we'll deny it all, kill you, and no one would believe you anyway, you little lying slut!" They threatened more while dressing me sticky. They put me in their car, drove me home. On the way they whispered more: "If you snitch, we'll find you at your grandma's too, cut her throat in front of you." I sobbed quietly, humiliated, broken when I got home. *Why did I believe them? Why am I so weak? This is my childhood... they took it forever.* But I didn't tell anyone. Not yet.