Babygirl | t.k.

sixteen

"I promise I can make you feel amazing, baby. Just follow me, I'll lead the way."

Jiyong nodded, stepping down from the stool at the bar, almost tripping in his drunken state. Strong arms wrapped around him, "Woah there, don't want you getting hurt just yet."

Jiyong just giggled at the man's words, not understanding any of them. It had been three days since he lost his boyfriend of two years in a vicious car accident. The guy wasn't the greatest, but he was the only source of love Jiyong ever recieved, so he had to stay with him.

Jiyong was hopelessly in love with the man, and only sometimes recieved those feelings in return. So, when the news of his lover being hit by a drunk driver and killed on impact came floating by, his whole being seemingly lost all purpose to live.

Snapping back into reality, Jiyong stumbled behind a tall man,  following him into a back room of the bar. He felt extremely dizzy, and the people dancing around him all meshed into a single blur of bodies. The cacophony of music filled his ears, and he almost felt like ripping them off. All he could smell was sweat and alcohol, and all he could see was the back of the man who was tugging his wrist.

Jiyong enjoyed it. He enjoyed losing all of his senses, in a place where no one could harm you. At least, that's what he thought the bar was like.

The pair finally reached the back set of doors, all little rooms for lounging around; or having sex, like most people use them for. The man opened one of them that wasn't locked, tugging the helpless Jiyong in behind him. Jiyong tripped over his own feet, flying towards the ground. He landed with a huff, lying there helplessly.

The man behind him roughly pulled him up by his hair, whispering into his ear, "Pretty boys like you shouldn't follow a stranger into a room. I almost pity you, baby." Jiyong was still very drunk, but some of his conscience slipped back. Fear overtook his body, as the reality of the situation came crashing into him.

Jiyong tried struggling out of the older man's grasp, but it was useless. "Ah ah ah, pretty boy has finally come to. Oh, the things I will do to you, my little baby."

He flipped Jiyong around, throwing him onto the velvet couch behind him. As soon as he touched the soft cushion, the man was on top of him, quickly taking his tie off of him, tying it roughly around Jiyong's wrists. He ripped his shirt apart, and soon they were both naked.

"You have such pretty brown hair, baby." The man leaned foward, inhaling the scent of Jiyong's hair. Jiyong was frozen in fear, his whole body trembling. All of a sudden, the man's right hand came flying down, slapping Jiyong across the cheek with so much force, black spots began to cloud his vision.

"Say thank you, slut." He said harshly, grabbing a handful of the boy's hair.

"T-Thank you..." Jiyong whispered out shakily, his eyes squeezed shut. The man above him smiled wickedly, tugging harshly on the brown locks tangled inbetween his finger. Jiyong let out a string of whimpers and soft sobs, the pain almost becoming unbearable. His tear-stained cheeks were a bright red, the right one puffing up from the slap he had recieved.

The last thing Jiyong could remember of that night was the man roughly forcing himself inside of him, and then he was out like a light.

§

Jiyong's hands were firmly gripping the toilet seat, knuckles turning white as he dry-heaved the rest of his sickness away. His eyes were watering, and a broken sob escaped his chapped lips. For the third time today, Jiyong was hunched over the toilet, a shaking, violent mess.