AGALMATOPHILIA

_-:10:-_

"Oo this one is pretty don't you think?" Brendon holds a dark navy skirt to his waist, modelling in front of Tyler, tiny white embroidered flowers littering the hem.

The fluffy haired boy shrugs, twiddling each thumb over each other with eyes locked to the floor in front of his feet as they dangled off the bed board.

Perched on the queen bed, Tyler felt awkward, uncomfortable, Brendon pulling skirts out of a dresser at the end of said bed, showing them off and offering them to Tyler.

"I don't know, it's cute, not really me,"

Brendon drops his arms, scoffing at Tyler's protest with a pout.

"You haven't liked anything I've picked out!"

"I'm not a skirt person! I don't do, girl, things,"

The taller brunette, navy skirt still clutched in hand, lets his expression drop.

"Not that it doesn't look good on you of course! You suit it, I think," back to twirling his thumbs, Tyler keeps his gaze cemented to the floorboards.

"Why thank you kindly Tyler!" Brendon mock curtsies, Tyler giving a weak grin, although the action was much more amusing than he emoted.

"You can borrow these, I know they're a bit horrible but it's really the only thing I own that's remotely your style," the taller throws a pair of ripped sweat pants and a midriff shirt towards Tyler, who lets the garments hit his face, reflex out of whack, reaching up after they had collided with him.

Embarrassed and turning his face away from Brendon who no doubt stifled a chuckle, he picks up the clothing.

Tyler stands, clutching his towel tight to his chest with one hand, the pants and shirt in the other.

Turning his back toward Brendon, Tyler pauses before he drops the towel, a hard banging starting in his rib cage.

Dead ahead of him is a large window, one that slides up high.

High enough for Tyler to jump out.

Beginning to feel giddy and dizzy with the thought of escape, Tyler thinks for a moment, he couldn't bum rush the window whilst Brendon was in the room.

So slowly, nervously, he turns back towards the other male still in the room, Tyler clears his throat and pulls Brendon from a day dream.

"Could I get some privacy please?"

"Oh sure! Sorry, I'll be right outside okay?" With a hearty grin, the feminine man begins to exit the room. "You have one minute and I'm coming back alright?"

The small brunette nods, waiting impatiently as the taller male leaves, the door clicking shut behind him.

Springing into action, Tyler drops the towel, only now realising he hadn't been given underwear, so he braves the chaffing that was yet to come and pulls on the baggy shredded track pants, far too many holes around the waist band for Tyler's liking.

The pants are too big yet yield no drawstring to tighten them, once again, Tyler braves the fact they would most likely fall off.

Next he pulls the top on, his belly exposed but he could care less right now.

His chest thumps painfully with anticipation, rushing towards the window, the small brunette unlatches the top and begins to push it up, amazed he could unlock it with his hands shaking violently.

It doesn't budge, stuck to the windowsill.

Pushing harder, Tyler groans in agony with every strain. His hand slips and catches upon a shard of metal jutting out from the latch.

Hand pouring with blood straightaway, a puddle of blood collects on the floorboards.

Shrieking in pain, the hostage panics and rattles the window frantically, and miraculously, it snaps open, flakes of white paint rain down like sharp shards of snow.

He hesitates for a moment, looking out the window with the wounded hand clutched tightly, a substantial amount of blood still spilling onto the floor.

Below is concrete, and asphalt, a back road behind wherever he was currently held captive.

Tyler assesses his fall, likely to break his legs from the height, but to the left is a drain pipe.

He could climb down that, and drop to the street below.

Slipping one leg under the gap carefully, Tyler perches on the sill, shuffling forward.

Unsure on how to get to said pipe, Tyler is about to duck his head under the window too when a set of hands filled with a rage Tyler had never felt through strength, grabs his shoulder and waist band of his pants.

The hands reef him back into the room, and Tyler screams out, kicking and wriggling against the force pulling him back, knowing exactly who was trying to rip freedom from under his nose.

Tyler's own hands catch onto the window sill, and practically fuse with the wood to try and counteract the pulling from behind, the wounded hand pours blood down the wall under the window.

"Let go of it kid!" The voice, a barking command, confirms the fear of who was behind him.

Tyler kicks more, screaming out the window;

"Help me! Please help me! Someone help-" a gut wrenching screech erupts from Tyler as the window is slammed down onto his fingers, he hears and feels a few of them crack.

Instantly letting the sill go, he collides with the floor.

As he's dragged back across the dirty floorboards, Tyler flips onto his back, now able to see Josh with one of his legs in hand.

Lashing out and landing a swift kick to Josh's crotch, the dollmaker nearly lets go of Tyler, weakening his grasp to grab his aching groin.

"You little cunt," the words a eerily calm, sickening Tyler.

He feels his bare ass against the floor for a moment before he realises Josh has begun to tug off the sweat pants.

"No! No! Brendon help! Stop don't touch me!" Tyler wriggles against the hand pushing his chest down, clawing at Josh's arms, fear filled eyes watching as he fails to fight off the obviously bigger and stronger male, clenching his eyes shut, waiting for his pants to be completely removed.

But once Tyler hears Josh yelp out, his eyes crack open to see Brendon with a fistful of the red hair in his hand, holding the dollmaker back.

Scrambling to pull his pants back up, Tyler watches in horror as Josh manages to pick himself up off the floor, Brendon letting his hair go and backing up.

"Now Joshy, you gotta forgive me, I didn't want you getting hurt! I was helping you!" Brendon begins to step back from the anger fuelled man, hands up in defence.

"You fucking whore, you useless little slut, how fucking dare you touch me! How dare you!" Balled fists by his sides, Josh staunches the frightened girly brunette, launching forward to wrap his hands around Brendon's throat.

Tyler can only watch on, before snapping out of his trance and rushing for the door. Before he can make it towards the stairs, he's tackled to the floor, arms restrained behind his back.

"You're more trouble than you're worth dollface!" Hearing the sound of a belt unbuckling fills him with the same fear previously, but instead of what he was petrified of happening, the belt is wrapped around his throat and pulled tight yet loose enough for him to breathe, the other end wrapped around his wrists and locked in place.

He's rolled over, Josh crouched over him.

Clutching the already bruised cheeks, Josh pulls Tyler's head up, jaw tight with an unreadable expression.

Brendon stumbles out of the bedroom rubbing his neck, and now glowering at Tyler.

"I think it's time we get rid of this one, what do you think Beebo? Wanna show him how great a surgeon you are?"

The feminine boy steps forward, towering over Tyler, still massaging the red marks over his throat.

"Gladly,"