Grey Stains

I'm disgusting. Pathetic. I can't even stand up for myself. The feeling of the rope biting into my wrists still lingers. My throat is hoarse from all the screaming.

I hate myself.

I can't look in the mirror without wanting to punch it. I'm standing under the shower head now, letting the water roll off my body, willing myself to get clean. Wash myself of the filth that he did to me.

---

"Let's mess up that pretty boy face of yours, Ryouta."

He says as my arms are tied harshly together, and his teammate holds them up, rendering me completely helpless.

I struggle.

He bites harshly on my earlobe, tongue playing with my piercing. His fingers hook onto the waistband of my jersey shorts, pulling them down in one swift motion. He pushes up my top, and presses the flat of his tongue on my chest, dragging it in irregular patterns. He reaches down, and a wave of pleasure washes through my body. I bite back a hiss, and he draws back. He palms himself through his shorts, looking at me with the ferocity of a wild tiger.

He shoves me onto my knees and grabs my chin roughly. His boxers are down now, and I know what he wants me to do. I shut my eyes and press my lips tightly together, trying to turn away.

I resist.

"I'll bite it." I snap at him.

He just chuckles, a cold, heartless sound. Then, he lands a punch on my jaw. The sheer force of my face knocked to one side startled me. His teammates join in, and my train of thoughts were lost in a flurry of punches and kicks.

I can't do anything.

They hoist me up, and push me onto the floor, my cheek pressed painfully onto the cool surface. My ass is in the air, and whatever was left of my pride became non-existent. That's it. I give up.

I accept.

He pushes roughly into me, tearing a scream from my lungs. It hurts. I can't stand it. He rams in and out without a care, and I can almost feel the smug smile he must've had plastered on his face. I'm crying, just wishing for it to be over.

He stills, and I manage to find my voice. I rasp out weakly, "P...please, Sh...Shougo-Kun...stop..."

Wishful thinking. He slams back in at twice the velocity, and I get tired of screaming. I simply squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip harshly, waiting for him to be done with me.

The feeling of warm liquid leaking out of my ass is disgusting. The thought that it was his made it worse. They drop me onto the floor, lying in his semen, and Shogo's words ring in my ears.

"You may have won the match, but in the end, you're still the loser."

He spits on me, but as derogatory the action was, I couldn't muster the strength to stand up again. They leave me alone in the locker room, letting the regret and self-pity kick in.

And in that moment, I crumbled. The shame fills me inside out. Wanting to get up, I try to grab the bench for leverage, but slip and fall instead, back into the sticky pool. My body screamed at me, and I was reduced to nothing but a mess. It hurt to even move.

Maybe if I hadn't won, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe if I hadn't joined the basketball club in the first place, I wouldn't be treated like this. It was a mistake.

Shogo had truly stained me in the worst way possible.