Second Chances (mxm, poly, mpreg)

Free

Rico wiped the sweat off his brow and staggered down the hall to the stage. He was on next. If he was late or messed up he'd get the whip again. His body was heavy due to the drugs they pumped into him and he was still healing from the ruthless fucking he'd received as part of his punishment.

He swallowed down the bile and smacked his cheeks. After tonight, it wouldn't matter. He'd finally stashed enough pills to end it once and for all. Tonight would be his last performance. It would be the last time anyone touched him against his will. He'd been forced to endure for seven years. No more.

The music cued up and he seductively made his way across the stage. He tried to pass his squint against the bright lights as a sexy half lidded gaze.  He could tell the club was packed.  Wolf whistles and claps rewarded his seductive dance as he sat in the chair with his legs wide open. He smirked as he ran his hands down his chest and stomach, pumping his hips to the beat. He reached inside his shorts to touch his slightly stiff erection making the men and weres in attendance go wild. He stood, rolling his hips and giving a hungry look as he undid the ties on his shorts.  

Cue the pigs.

"Hot damn, baby!"

"Yaaasss, bitch!  Work it!"

"Shake that shit, baby boy!"

He snorted and removed his shorts revealing a red jock strap. The crowd went wild as he knew they would. He swung his shorts over his head and tossed it out to the crowd. They scrambled to catch it and a mini fight broke out. He continued dancing, holding onto the chair and twerking. Money rained down on the stage as he finished his routine and hurried off the stage.

He had his ass smacked and grabbed as he made his way to the dressing room. He quickly wiped his body down and changed. The drugs were wearing off and he had to hurry.  His handler would come toward the end of the night to dose him up again. He grabbed his bag and ran to the bathroom.  He checked all the stalls then locked the bathroom door from the inside so no one could come in. 

 Working quickly, he hid in a stall and locked the door. He took out a razor and set it on the tissue dispenser. He pulled out the baggie full of blue pills and a bottle of Everclear. The near 100 proof liquor burned his throat and chest as he quickly downed half the bottle, followed by the pills, and more of the drink. Then he gripped the razor and slit his wrists. He sat down on the toilet lid and laughed like a lunatic waiting for the alcohol, drugs, and his body to work their magic.

"Free at last, free at last. Thank God almighty, I'm free at last!"  His cackle was loud in the empty restroom and he laid his head back against the tiled wall.  Free at last.  No more whips, chains, poison, beatings.  No more being forced to endure the sick, twisted pleasures of nasty powerful men.  No more being treated like a piece of meat with no feelings, dreams, wants, or needs.  No more feeling like he was just some sexy piece of garbage men could pay for and do as they pleased.  

He heard an explosion followed by gunfire and shouting. Thundering of boots shook the bathroom and screaming echoed off the walls. But he couldn't care about that. His life force was ebbing out of him. His pulse weakened and he shivered. A smile touched his lips as his lids began to close. No one would ever hurt him again. 

 He was free.