Fucked up phanfics

The Scoop Fic

Dan and Phil hold a party for Phil's 30th birthday. Everything goes smoothly until all of the guests leave, which is when Phil reveals that he craves Dan's pain and suffering.

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I was delighted to discover that my room was significantly warmer than it had been for the past few weeks. This December was colder than usual and I usually wasn't allowed to have any heating on in here at all. Phil had given me a portable heater, but said I'd be in trouble if it was left on for more than an hour each day. This was fine, because the warmth always lingered.
I rummaged through my sock and underwear drawer and discovered a small note that had been left for me. I recognised it as Phil's handwriting and figured that he had placed it here for me to see. He was asking if I wanted to help him hold a party for his birthday next month. "We'll have cake and ice cream", it read at the bottom.

I hadn't realised he'd wanted to hold a party on his 30th.
"Why wouldn't I want to celebrate my birthday?" He sounded offended.
"Sorry," I said. "I just kinda thought we were too old for that. I mean... you'll be thirty next month. I'm not judging though, honestly." I began to regret speaking. Phil was the boss, and he could punish me if I did anything wrong.
But he didn't seem too annoyed. "I just want to have a good time with our old friends."
"Fair enough," I said. "I love cake and ice cream."

People were early to arrive, especially members of mine and Phil's families.
We all exchanged hugs, offered drinks, asked how eachother were and engaged in other social pleasantries.
There was an influx of guests during the next 15 minutes, as it was starting to get dark out. It was still winter. It was such a cheerful atmosphere and we didn't stop smiling, especially Phil. I was happy to see him happy. When it was just he and I in our flat, he never really seemed to be in a good mood, and he took all of his anger out on me in the worst ways possible.
It was almost sad, how I still loved him even though he was abusive towards me at times.

It was around midnight when everyone began to leave.
Phil wouldn't let me say goodbye to my friends and family.
"Are you kidding?" I snapped, pulling away from him when he tried to take hold of my arm. "I probably won't get to see them for ages now. Are you out of your mind?"
"Possibly," he smirked.
I wanted to glare at him, but I had already done enough. I had to remain obedient.
The house was strangely silent. It all seemed so dead and lonely, now that everyone had left. The decorations were still up.
I was beginning to feel quite drowsy. That was unusual for me at this time of night. Most nights I only got tired after 2am.
"You look very sleepy," Phil pointed out, as soon as I rubbed my eyes. "I may have dissolved a sleeping tablet in your lemonade. Possibly."
I stared at him, my mouth gaping open.
"What?" I exclaimed. "Why? Oh my god! What is wrongwith you tonight?"
He just grinned and then took me by the arm, dragging me. "Upstairs," he said abruptly.
I was led into his bedroom. He roughly dumped me onto his colourful bedsheets and the whole room became more and more blurred. My eyes and my head felt as heavy as lead and I couldn't even muster the energy to move my limbs.

When I woke up, my first thought was water. My throat felt as if it was stuck together, and it was making me gag. I was so parched that I was heaving. When I noticed that I was covered in sweat from head to toe, I realised that was the reason why I was so thirsty. I felt it pouring down my face.
When I came to my senses, it dawned on me that it wasn't even that hot in here. And yet I was drenched in sweat.
I looked down and, to my surprise, saw my bare stomach, thighs and genitalia.
I was strapped tightly to a desk chair in Phil's room, a gag over my mouth.
I thought I was going to faint.
Less than two hours ago, I had been relaxed. I had been happy. I had been okay. We were holding a party. We were having fun. And now he seemed a different person.
I just stared at Phil in awe, trying to communicate in an averbal manner. You did this? the voice in my head spoke.
He read me like a book. He nodded, proudly.
I wanted to know how. I knew I had been asleep, but I couldn't understand how I hadn't woken up while he was lifting me off the bed and tying me to this chair. I was tied so tightly that the skin around the thin straps bulged and I was scared that my circulation would be cut off. Surely I must have felt some pain.
"You, Dan," Phil began, "are going to do everything I say. There will be dire consequences if you even consider dissenting."
Bastard, I thought. I looked around the room for something within the reach of my foot that I could maybe grasp and use to free myself somehow. There was a paper cutting knife in a small box beneath Phil's bed and I tried to think of a plan, but he caught me staring. He was on the mark. He removed it out of my reach instantly.
I stared longingly toward the door. Even if I did somehow free myself, I could see the knife Phil had in his pocket. He was fast, faster than me. One step out of the chair and I'd be dead meat.
"I brought some treats along," Phil continued, as I desperately tried to think of a plan. He had a sick smile on his face. "Just take a look at these." He held up three metal ice cream scoops, the sturdy, steel-type ones. The really sharp kinds. I was filled with dread.
"I know how much you love ice cream," he said to me. I was extremely claustrophobic in the position I was in. I couldn't do anything. Phil was powerful. If I attempted escape it would be the end of my life as I knew it. But if I stayed in the position I was currently in, I'd be subjected to all manner of heinous experiments. I called them experiments because it felt like I was about to be used as a test subject, an object that had no worth other than its potential to yield desirable results. Then I'd be tossed aside, like an empty packet.
"Watch me, baby," Phil ordered.
I fidgeted slightly and whined. I shut my eyes tightly, disobeying. "Open them!" he demanded, practically yelling at me.
I opened them precariously.
He went straight for it. He stuck the scoop straight in my eye, and I heard the sounds before I felt the pain. I heard the squelch. I heard my own muffled scream from under my gag. I heard the quiet sniggers emitted from deep within Phil's throat. I heard everything I didn't want to hear before I felt all the agony I didn't want to feel.
"This one won't do," he uttered, and slammed the ice cream scoop onto a desk, covered in blood. The blood spattered the table.
My vision wasn't quite gone in my injured eye. It had just been damaged. It hadn't been pulled out completely.
I was in immense pain. I was shaking. I had no idea what to think or do. It was like being held hostage. One wrong move and I was dead, and it probably wouldn't be a quick death either.
Phil picked up a slightly smaller scoop, one that fitted my eyeball socket better. I felt sick. I screamed and screamed. I waited for the pull, for the rip, for the snap. I waited for what seemed like a lifetime.
"Wow," Phil said, kind of pleased. "You aren't going down without a fight. You little bastard."
There was a nauseatingly strong-sounding squelch again. I gave another muffled scream. I heard blood dripping against my legs and the floor.
"Beautiful," Phil uttered. Then he turned to me. "Look, Dan."
I wanted to defy him, say no, that I wasn't going to look at what he'd just gouged out of my head. But I knew I had no choice. Peering out of my undamaged eye, it was smaller than I thought it would be, completely red, and veiny from the side I could see. There were a few red thin muscles still attached, which were what produced that disturbing "snap".
My autonomous whimpers of agony had been going on for so long by now that I'd become oblivious to them. They just sounded like background noise now. I didn't even know I was crying out in pain at this point.

The next thing I knew, I had been pried out of the chair and forcefully pushed onto Phil's bed. He began to kiss me passionately. After this evil act he had committed I still could not help succumbing to his actions, to what he offered me.
I was almost unconscious. He had gouged out both of my eyes and I felt my face streaming with blood. Now I couldn't see what he was doing to me. I could only feel it, and I wasn't entirely sure if that made it worse.
Phil had been abusive in the past. But this, this was torture. It was sick and evil.
I knew that Phil was still holding the gouged-out eyes and it made me feel genuinely sick. I could feel them against my bare arms, their wetness, their spongy texture.
I didn't want to do whatever he wanted me to do now, but I didn't want to die either. And that was my other option.
"You may like this," he said suddenly. "On the other hand, you may not."
"Fucking get on with it," I sobbed. Phil ran his fingers down my hot, bloodstained face. For some reason it only just occurred to me that I was now blind forever.
I prepared for the worst. I felt Phil push something small and moist inside my back entrance, and then something else, that felt pretty much the same.
"No!" I screamed, in a state of shock and utter despair when I realised what his nasty game was all about.
They felt quite cold inside me, even though they had been inside my eye sockets not too long ago.
"What are you doing?" I growled, feeling scared. More than scared. Petrified.
"What I do best," he replied.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I cried out, almost wailing. I knew what was coming. I knew I was going to be sick. Wouldn't it be rape then, if he did what I thought he was going to do? I obviously didn't want this. At no point had I stated that I was okay with any of this.
He penetrated me then, and I felt the eyes being pushed up inside me, their spongy texture rubbing against my insides. I shrieked, not in pain but in utter disgust. I wondered if they would burst when he pulled out of me, and be crushed inside of me. I wondered what would ooze out of them. I wondered if it would leak out of me the next day, all gooey and pink, blood mixed with other eye fluids. Then chunks of the eyes would slide out of me. Unless they were stuck forever.
Obviously I couldn't see what Phil was doing, but I did feel his hands rubbing a mysterious substance on my cheek, ominously close to my mouth.
"You leaked a little," he mocked, rubbing the blood and fluid against my face. "Actually, no, my fault. I pulled myself out of you and kind of just found it."
"That is so disgusting," I said. "So disgusting."
"It's hot," he disagreed.

I was left to suffer, blood streaming down my face and soaking the duvet. My eyes weren't still inside me, thankfully, but what Phil had done to me was absolutely horrific. At this point I didn't give a shit about never being able to see again. The most horrifying part of this whole thing wasn't even the physical pain. It was the psychological scars that would be with me for the rest of my miserable life.
I heard footsteps. I heard Phil enter the room and I froze with terror. No more, begged a small voice from deep inside me. Please no more. I would rather you just kill me.
"Want a drink?" Phil asked. What the hell, I thought. Why is he offering me a drink after what he has just put me through?
I'm not sure why I trusted him at this point. All of my hope and faith in life had been obliterated. I sipped from the cup that he held up to my mouth. This couldn't be worse than anything else I had experienced.
The liquid was extremely sour, metallic, slimy and kind of salty. I gagged and heaved instantly, feeling my stomach contract. It smelled like extremely pungent, bloody raw meat.
"What the fuck is this?" I gasped, trying not to vomit.
"You know, Dan," said Phil, "I've actually done this many times before. I have been collecting human eyes for a few months now, and I decided to save yours until last." He paused, and I cringed violently. "So many people are blind all because of me. This drink is the fruit of my labour. I would show you the blender, but obviously you can't see. Anyway, this drink contains the blended eyes of about 50 people. It may not be that tasty, but it's high in protein. Drink up, Dan."

Not mine.