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There was a danger zone, he'd learned, a point where he could no longer handle himself. Usually, he was fairly cognizant, aware of himself and willing to slow down his drinking in order to float just below the cliff's edge and enjoy his night without any issues. This wasn't one of those times, it seemed- or the barkeep had been giving him doubles. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure that even doubles would make him do this.
"That's it, sweetheart."
There was a man whispering in his ear, crooning softly while his dirty fingers pulled away the last of Leon's clothing.
"You're so beautiful, honey. What were you hiding under all those clothes for?" His name tag flashed in the dim light of the restroom, reading "Jim" in faded script. "Here we go, show me those fuckin' jugs."
Leon twitched vainly as the man ripped open his chest binder. He could barely move, his head soaked in fog and so, so heavy. The only thought that managed to pierce his consciousness was the idea that he had been drugged. In retrospect, it should have been obvious, but he was too far gone to notice. The next thing to register was greedy fingers mauling his breasts, squeezing and pulling on them until he moaned in distress and struggled on the counter.
"Heh, I knew you'd like it." The man teased, drawing back to give each tit an open-palmed slap. Leon whimpered and squirmed, his legs falling open and showing off the pink of his pussy. It wasn't his intention, but he was rolling on clouds of euphoria, barely aware of himself as his t-cock swelled. He couldn't fight back or cover himself, his body sluggish and hot. His ears and cheeks were flushed with blood, exacerbating the pounding in his head and the heat engulfing his brain.
"Such a pretty pussy." Jim cooed at him, licking his finger before rubbing it against Leon's clit. He moved lower after a moment, playing with the sticky wetness that had begun to leak from between splayed legs. With the help of the roofies he'd slipped into his victim's drink, the little blond slut was getting turned on.
"God, I'd love to split you open, but I've got other plans, baby doll." He lamented the loss of a personal fuck toy, but he was more interested in seeing this one used up and cum-covered. "Alright, play nice, now."
Leon moaned softly, fingers twitching as he longed to punch the man square in the face. He felt soft, silky fabric slide up his legs, settling between the folds of his pussy. Jim gave it an extra yank, forcing the cloth to dig in deep and crush Leon's clit. Next came a tiny little skirt, meant to show off the length of his legs and the dirty secret between his thighs. The finishing touch was a crop top, small and hot pink. Without a bra, his breasts looked huge and unruly, barely contained by the thin cloth. He was dressed like a whore, like a bar wench who didn't know what was good for her.
"Beautiful." Jim commented. He hoisted Leon upright, forcing him to look in the mirror and see how the outfit clung to his curves. "You'll be the star of the show, baby doll." He crooned, leaning in and getting a taste of pale, sweaty skin. His teeth closed around Leon's neck, marking him up. When he'd had his fill, he pushed them out of the bathroom, leading them into the loud, crowded club they'd entered from. It was the sleaziest place imaginable, with mirrored floors, grime coating the walls, and virtually no security. There were few women present, but those that were seemed to be fishing for patronage themselves.
Leon pushed vainly at the arm around his waist, struggling to stay on his feet.
"Go have some fun, baby doll." Jim hissed in his ear before shoving him onto the dance floor. Leon stumbled, his vision swirling as he fell into the mass of bodies that were grinding to the beat of some shitty, overproduced rap song. Immediately, an arm wound around his waist, pulling him upright. Several sets of hands were magnetizing to his body, creeping up his thigh and pulling at his clothes.
"No!" He begged, weakly pushing at the hand that was tugging the hem of his crop top down. He wasn't lucid enough to make a difference, crying out in despair when the man assaulting him managed to get his breasts free. He heard drunken laughter from all around, then a singular voice that rose above the others.
"Slap his fuckin' tits around, yeah?"
Leon tried to struggle again, going rigid when an open-palmed slap landed on his left breast. He tried to squirm away, only rubbing himself against the man holding him. More spanks and punches began to pepper his chest, stinging his skin as they swatted at his tits and left bruises in their wake.
"He wouldn't be lettin' 'em hang loose if he didn't want 'em beaten to hell." Another man said. His words were accompanied by a pinch and a twist, Leon's right nipple caught between his fingers. "Let us at that pussy, too." He called.
"Yeah!" A third man came closer, his hands yanking at the little miniskirt. It bunched up around Leon's stomach, revealing the lacy thong that barely covered his clit.
"Those are slut panties." One of the rapists said, laughing out loud. "No wonder he's half dead, he's been fucked silly."
"Guess we'd better do 'im in the rest of the way, huh?" The pincher asked. He stepped in close, his breath rank and moist. "This is gonna hurt, princess."
He yanked upwards on each side of the thong, making the string dig in and split Leon's pussy in two. The fabric was surprisingly resistant, holding on for a moment as it dug into sensitive flesh and made its wearer moan in pain.
"Come on," One of the men slurred drunkenly in his ear. "Dance for us."
Leon tried, he really did. He just wanted them to take what they wanted so it could be over, he wasn't concerned with his dignity anymore. He stumbled, his feet bare and cold on the grimy dance floor. Every time he swayed, the men laughed, grabbing his thong and hauling him upright. His pussy was throbbing by the time they finally let him stop.
"Such a good whore for us, huh?" The man holding him up purred directly into Leon's ear, dragging the half-conscious boy towards the back door. "Grab that tequila." He ordered someone.
They barreled out into the alley, laughing and jeering as they groped their plaything. It ceased for a moment when one drunkard appeared with a wad of paper towels and some duct tape. The men gathered around, taping Leon's hands and wrists together before generously looping some around each breast and forcing them to bulge out.
"There, we made you a bra."
Leon moaned in despair, only to have the paper towels shoved into his mouth. They followed it with more duct tape, gagging him thoroughly. As a finishing touch, they hefted him into the air and dropped him over the edge of a dumpster, leaving his legs flailing comically as he tried to find his balance. He couldn't hold in the little scream of shock that escaped the gag as he teetered on the edge.
"Hold on, sweetheart, calm down." One of the men laughed, pulling Leon's thong down his legs. "Let me give you something to really scream about."
He spat, using the saliva as lube as he pushed two fingers deep inside of the panicking slut. Scissoring them roughly, he barely gave Leon time to adjust before ripping them free and replacing them with something cold and hard. With one push, it slid in about an inch. Painfully and slowly, it crept deeper and deeper, urged on by unrelenting pressure.
Leon began to cry, his brain fried by the drugs and the abuse. He stopped for a moment when a new sensation hit him. Something cold and wet was hitting his insides, filling him up. He squirmed, inadvertently fucking himself on the bottle. It burned! He moaned and struggled, looking dismally pathetic.
"Easy, slut." Someone reprimanded him with a hard slap on his ass. It made him jump and clench up, shifting the liquid inside him.
"Hand me that. Good."
Leon whimpered, the noise breaking into a yell when the object- a bottle, he realized- was pulled free. Quickly, a piece of duct tape was slapped over his cunt, ensuring that he wouldn't leak.
"That's all tequila, slut." Someone told him, rubbing at his clit through the tape. "We're gonna get you nice and drunk so the cops think you were asking for it. Don't worry, you only need a few minutes, then we'll give you some attention."
Leon listened as the men moved away from him, talking and laughing. He heard the click of lighters, then smelled cigarettes. They'd left him, but he still couldn't get himself free. They knew it- they were banking on it. He was in way over his head. Throughout it all, his pussy continued to burn and throb, saturated with alcohol. It was as if someone had taken steel wool and rubbed his insides raw. He could feel the alcohol, too, making his brain float and dip as it fought the drugs he'd been given. The inside of the dumpster was horrid- dirty and disgusting with an awful stench. He could barely focus, but he managed to pick out a few old french fries, what looked like vomit, and several crushed beer cans at the bottom. If he had been more sober, he might have gagged. Instead, he moaned helplessly and chewed on the paper towel in his mouth. It had soaked up his saliva, leaving his mouth dry and creating a solid mass on his tongue. He was terrified that he'd throw up and drown himself.
"Told you he's docile." One of the men returned, slapping Leon on the ass before ripping off the duct tape covering his pussy. On impulse, the agent clenched up, terrified of letting the tequila pour out of him. The men made a disappointed sound, obviously wanting him to humiliate himself. Leon didn't understand why they weren't satisfied with the image of him dressed like a whore and draped over a dumpster with tequila dribbling down his thigh. He trembled, crying quietly as they pulled his legs apart and exposed him to the crowd.
"Such a nice pussy, looks tighter than hell." Someone said, pushing two of their fingers into him and allowing a torrent of alcohol to gush out. They kept scissoring him, laughing each time he leaked and sprayed tequila on the side of the dumpster.
"That's a waste of good alcohol." One man said. He shuffled around for a minute before sealing his mouth over Leon's cunt and forcing it open with his tongue. The others cheered as he drank his fill, already queuing up to have their turn. Unfortunately, there wasn't much left, and only a few of the men got a taste, but those who did were happy to stand back and let the others have a go at playing with their little prize.
Leon sobbed, tensing up when someone forced their cock into his pussy. Each thrust brought on a new wave of agony, forcing the leftover alcohol deep inside of him and stretching him out in a way that the bottle had only been able to mimic. He bit down on the wadded up paper towel, limp as a ragdoll while they violated him. Without the ability to fight back, he was completely at their mercy, and they weren't keen on going easy on him. His body ached as it was thrust against the side of the dumpster over and over, his hips chafing on the ledge. He'd have bruises all over, ones that would need explaining away at his next physical.
The drugs were still swimming in his bloodstream, making his head spin and his stomach churn. The feeling of cum splashing across his insides certainly didn't help, not when it only signaled a change of pace. The next man was rougher, digging his nails into Leon's thighs as he hammered his cock deep inside of his victim. He was quick, leaving with a hard spank and a gob of spit that trickled down between pale thighs. As soon as he stepped away, another took his place. Then another, and another after that.
It went on for hours, or so it seemed, punctuated by a cruel joke or a demand to rough him up a little. They took great pleasure in spreading open his cunt and watching semen drip out of him in filthy gobs. It coated his thighs, dribbling down towards his feet and splashing on the ground. The men were crude, using their fingers to shovel it back into him, threatening to find something big enough to keep him plugged up.
"Hope you're on the pill, slut." One teased him, groping his ass and spitting in his hair. He positioned himself between spread legs, forcing his cock deep into the mess of Leon's pussy. Oddly enough, he didn't move, staying still as he enjoyed the wet heat of worn out muscle. After a moment, his intentions became clear, and he let loose a torrent of piss, filling every inch of Leon's womb. It gushed out around his cock, making the other men howl with laughter. They cheered him on, and one even climbed up on the ledge of the dumpster in order to empty his bladder across Leon's back and shoulders. It ran down his skin in droves, soaking into his hair and filling his nose with its acrid stench. He cried harder and harder, trembling from head to toe and biting down on his gag with a vengeance.
Several more men took the opportunity to piss in or on him, leaving his skin sticky with urine and his hair soaked through. Leon prayed that it was over, closing his eyes and taking panicked breaths through his nose. He whimpered when they forced the bottle back inside of him. It was taped in place, secured to his thighs and waist. The open neck allowed the piss inside of him to leak out and fill the bottle. It was a spectacle, and the sight wasn't lost on his rapists. They laughed and jeered, rubbing his clit in an effort to force more urine and cum out of him.
Leon struggled vainly, tears and snot leaking down his face. He wanted the torment to stop- why wasn't it over?
Just when he was certain he couldn't take anymore, when he could feel his body teetering on the edge of unconsciousness- they left. He was abandoned like a piece of trash, filthy, exhausted, and swimming in intoxication. His body was bruised and aching, but he managed to struggle enough to fall over the ledge of the dumpster. Despite his efforts, his knees gave out and sent him tumbling to the ground, forcing the bottle deeper inside of him. Leon moaned desperately, hoping for a reprieve. His luck had always been shit, though, and this time was no different.
He spent the night dozing on the cold ground, undisturbed by the junkies and drunkards that traversed the alley. They didn't pay him any mind, too absorbed in their own vices. Undoubtedly, it wasn't the first time they'd seen such a spectacle.
Leon knew that the DSO would notice his absence, especially when he failed to turn up for his morning meeting with the president. He just wasn't sure how long it would take them to send someone after him. Hunnigan could track his phone- presumably left in the club's bathroom with the rest of his clothes- but that location would only get them so far. It would be a miracle if the agents didn't simply write him off as a drunk on a bender.
With one last attempt at struggling free, he felt the tape cut deeply into his wrists. Despite his efforts, he wouldn't be able to break through on his own. The drugs and alcohol made it difficult to compose himself, but he managed to curl into the fetal position and brace for a humiliating discovery. Eventually, someone would find him.
He just hoped it wouldn't be the same group of cruel, insatiable men.