Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Beneath a Heart of Darkness	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 4657 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 21JS or the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A big shout out to vidalhbea and everyone else who has rated my story. Thanks for all your support. Hugs!

Adrenaline pumped through Booker’s veins, the hormone rapidly increasing his metabolism, leaving him sweaty and breathless. His eyes flitted nervously from the 9mm Glock pointing at Tom’s head, to McCarter, and back again. While he knew he needed to act and save Tom from what was sure to be a brutal attack, for once his mind appeared incapable of formulating a plan. He was unarmed and even though he had his badge, he was still reluctant to reveal their true identities. It was obvious McCarter and Stevenson were unstable; both men were riding on a delusional high. They honestly believed that belonging to the Pi Tau fraternity meant they were untouchable. Therefore, if he had any hope of helping Tom and getting them out unscathed, he knew he needed to stay calm and not unnecessarily agitate the two seniors. However, it was not in his nature to kowtow to those who came from privileged backgrounds. He had never felt inferior to people who falsely believed a healthy bank account and an expensive education gave them unlimited rights. His parents had given him the best education they could afford, and he had rewarded them by working hard and becoming a productive member of society. Therefore, he would be damned if he would let two snot-nosed frat boys get the better of him. He would go down fighting, even if it killed him.

But he quickly had a change of heart when his gaze fell on Tom. While he was more than happy to gamble with his own life, he was not prepared to gamble with the life of the man he loved. Tom was more than a crush, he was his everything, and therefore, he needed to push hotheaded Booker to the side and become diplomatic Dennis instead. One of his charms was the gift of the gab, and if he played his cards right, he might just be able to talk his way out of the terrifying situation they now found themselves in.
However, despite coming up with what he now considered an acceptable strategy, his main priority was to reassure Tom. The young officer had not made a sound since succumbing to the sexual assault. He remained suspended from the ceiling, his lifeless eyes staring at the cement floor. His boxers were pooled around his ankles, and his flaccid cock hung between his legs, the smooth tip peeking provocatively out from beneath his tee shirt. The sight was both traumatizing and pathetic, and Booker's heart fluttered painfully in his chest. His beautiful Tommy was broken, and it was all his fault.
Unable to remain a bystander any longer, he threw caution to the wind and stepping forward, he gently placed his palm against Tom’s pale cheek. “Tommy, I’m gonna lift you down and then we’re—”
The remainder of Booker’s words stuck in his throat as Tom jerked violently away, his body swaying like an abandoned marionette. A callous laugh sounded to Booker’s left and without thinking, he reacted by throwing a punch, his fist coming into contact with McCarter’s jaw. The satisfying crack of bone on bone brought a smile to his lips, and he barely registered the stinging pain in his knuckles. “That’ll teach the sonofabitch,” he thought to himself.
But his triumph was short-lived. Two Pi Taus immediately ran forward and tackled him to the ground, the larger of the two slamming his face forcefully into the cold cement floor. He fought valiantly against his assailants, cursing and yelling, his body thrashing from side to side as he attempted to break free. But he was easily overpowered, and moments later, he found himself lying on his side with his arms wrenched behind his back, his wrists and ankles bound together with thick rope.
“YOU FILTHY MOTHERFUCKER!” he screamed at McCarter, the force of his words sending spittle flying from his lips. “I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”
“Really?” McCarter replied calmly, the fingers of his right hand gingerly probing his bruised jaw. “And how exactly are you going to do that, genius? In case you hadn't noticed, your hands and feet are tied, and I'm free to do… well, whatever… I… want.”
Then, to Booker’s horror, McCarter positioned himself behind Tom, and a screeching zip cut through the still air. Startled by the ominous sound, Tom’s head snapped up, a look of confusion on his ashen face. But when the tip of McCarter’s erection touched his backside, he understood what was about to happen, and he recoiled in panic, his body once again swaying helplessly. “DENNIS!” he screamed hysterically, his eyes bulging in terror. “HELP ME!”
Even though he was hog-tied and defenseless, Booker continued to fight. Fear coursed through his body, tensing his muscles and he twisted and writhed against his restraints, his head moving violently from side to side. “DON’T!” he yelled, the pitch of his voice rising to a shriek. “DON’T HURT HIM! PLEASE DON’T HURT HIM!”
Todd Stevenson’s lips pulled back into a ruthless grin, and he moved the gun closer to Tom’s head. “I think it would be in your best interest to shut the fuck up,” he advised menacingly, his tone dripping with rancor.
Despite the warning, Booker was not about to concede defeat, and he fought against his bindings, the veins on his biceps straining against his tanned skin. “Please!” he begged, his dark eyes filling with tears. “Do what you want to me, but don’t hurt Tommy… please don’t hurt my Tommy!”
Soft sniggering echoed throughout the basement, and it was then that Booker realized no one was coming to their rescue. Horshack remained crouched on the floor, his head hung low, saliva dripping from his thin lips. He wore an expression of detachment, and the only sign of life was the sound of his jagged breathing racking through his frail body. His mind was shutting down, the brutality of the final ritual too much for him to bear.
McCarter’s face appeared over Tom’s right shoulder, his upper lip curled in amusement. “Your Tommy?” he taunted softly. “Sorry, Brody, but I think you might be a little confused. He’s my Tommy now.”
Booker started to speak, but a rough hand grabbed his hair, yanking his head backward with such force, his words strangled in his throat. Seconds later, a strip of duct tape was slammed against his mouth, rendering him speechless. His breathing quickened, and he inhaled and exhaled through his nose in what could only be described as a nasal pant. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, and he choked against the gag. He was about to witness Tommy’s rape, but with his mouth taped and his body immobilized, he was physically incapable of coming to his friend’s rescue.
Never before had he felt so impotent.
When he realized what was about to happen, Tom’s wide, panicked eyes pleaded for help, but it was all in vain. He could feel McCarter’s erection pressing against him and for a fraction of a moment, the sounds around him appeared to mute, and a kaleidoscope of colors swam before his eyes. But when an indescribable pain ripped through his lower body, his senses returned, and he started to scream a high-pitched, terrified scream.
“STOP! OH, GOD! STOP! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!”
Booker screamed against his gag. With his wide gaze locked on Hanson’s panicked eyes, he attempted to convey some measure of comfort. But Tom was too hysterical to notice the futile gesture. He was crying uncontrollably, snot bubbling from his nose, the clear mucus mixing with the hot tears streaming down his face. He was trapped in a living nightmare, and he was terrified he would remain there forever.
Moments later, McCarter's cock slammed against his prostate, and the unexpected titillation sparked a bolt of pleasure in his addled brain. A soft moan sounded from between his lips, bringing forth a tinkling of laughter from around the room.
“How small does my dick feel now, Harris?” McCarter breathed into Tom’s ear, his cock pounding in and out of his victim’s blood-slicked channel. “My guess is it feels pretty fucking big.”
“Oh, God,” Tom groaned, the brutality of the rape sending spasms of pain throughout his ravaged body. His mind was a swirling cocktail of confusion. The lower half of his body was a fiery ball of pain, but every time the tip of McCarter’s cock grazed his prostate, a flash of arousal shot through his loins. Although unable to obtain an erection so soon after his encounter with Booker, his testicles swelled, their sensitivity heightening with each savage thrust. Shame and embarrassment flushed his face; McCarter was raping him, and his sick mind was getting off on it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Booker saw Harold flee up the basement stairs, spittle and vomit dripping from his lips. The young student pounded on the door, but it was locked, and he collapsed onto the steps, defeat shining from his terrified eyes.
As the minutes ticked past, Tom eventually fell silent. Booker’s muffled gasps filled the room, accompanied by McCarter’s animalistic grunts. Dozens of Pi Taus and pledges stared with wide, excited eyes at the sexual act playing out before them, their arousal growing with each passing second. Hands massaged cocks through cotton and denim, any sense of moral decency now forgotten as testosterone coursed through their awakening bodies. McCarter’s low growls stimulated them further, and several young men released their erections and openly masturbated, their heavy pants echoing around the room. Only Booker’s and Horshack’s faces registered shock, their horrified expressions mirroring Edvard Munch’s famous painting. Even Tom’s expression had become impassive, his long dark lashes brushing his cheeks, his heavily lidded eyes giving the illusion of sleep. He was entering a state of catatonia, his imagination taking him to a place where pain no longer ripped through his body, and he was free from the humiliation of his rape.
McCarter’s grip tightened around Tom’s hips, his fingernails cruelly biting into the tender flesh. The erotic sexual slapping of skin-on-skin resonated around the basement, and as McCarter’s orgasm started to build inside him, his testicles drew toward his body, and his thrusting became more frenetic. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” he gasped and with a primordial cry of delight, he ejaculated into Tom's abused body.
Several loud groans followed McCarter’s impassioned howl, and the scent of sex permeated the air. With a loud moan, McCarter withdrew his cock, releasing rivulets of semen and blood, the pinkish fluid trickling down the back of Tom’s quivering thighs. Before tucking himself away, he used the back of Tom's tee shirt to wipe the blood from his softening penis. “Who wants to go next?” he asked, a wicked grin splitting his face.
Half a dozen men raised their hands, their eyes shining with savage delight at the prospect of fucking such a sweet piece of ass. But while Tom remained silent, the choking fog swirling through his mind shrouding him from the pain of his assault, Booker’s muffled screams echoed chillingly throughout the basement as he struggled to hold on to his sanity.
Seconds later, pain exploded in the back of Booker’s head. His vision blurred, and a muffled moan sounded in the back of his throat. He fought to keep his eyes open, to keep his focus on Tom, but the room began to spin, and everything went black...
**
Faint sounds slowly filtered into Booker’s consciousness. Fighting against the foggy blackness veiling his mind, he attempted to open his eyes, but it took several long minutes before they finally fluttered open. Blinded by the harsh lights, he blinked in rapid succession until his vision cleared. His body felt numb, apart from a slight tingling in his hands, but there was pain too, the dull ache in his head triggering a vague memory of something important… someone in trouble…
Tom!
With his physical injury now a distant memory, Booker struggled to sit up. But he immediately rolled onto his stomach, and it was then that he remembered his wrists and ankles were bound together like a spit-roast hog, only in reverse. The knowledge awakened his sleeping muscles, and pain ripped through his shoulders and legs, the discomfort bringing forth unwanted tears. Desperately seeking answers, his panicked eyes roamed the room until eventually, his gaze fell on Tom. A sob caught in his throat, the tape on his mouth muffling his distress. He had failed the man he loved, and both their lives would be irreparably changed forever.
Moments later, a pair of loafer-clad feet came into his view. He tried to roll away, but the male figure squatted down, and with one swift motion, ripped the tape from his lips, the savage act leaving a stinging afterburn. Gulping in some much-needed air, he gazed up into the cruel eyes of Michael McCarter. “You're all going down for this,” he croaked.
A low, hollow laugh resonated deep inside McCarter’s chest. “No, we're not. I'm pretty certain young Thomas won't want this tape released, and it will be released if you report what happened here today. Well, an edited version of it anyway.”
Booker’s gaze shifted to Tom. The young officer remained suspended from the ceiling, his eyes closed, and his head bowed against his chest. A silvery thread of saliva hung from his lips, glittering translucently in the fluorescent lighting, his chest barely moving as he drew in short, shallow breaths. He was beyond pitiful; he was mentally and physically broken.
Turning his attention back to McCarter, Booker’s eyes burned furiously. “You’re a fucking rapist!” he spat through dry, chapped lips. “If the tape is released, you'll go to prison for what you did to Tom. You and your buddies.”
Rubbing a hand over the reddish contusion on his chin, McCarter grinned a wolfish grin. “Doubtful. After all, I can afford the best attorney money can buy. You don’t want to mess with me, Brody, ‘cause if you do, I’ll come out squeaky clean, and Harris? Well, he'll look like a two-bit whore.”
Booker started to speak, but McCarter ignored him and standing up, he addressed two senior Pi Taus. “Get him down,” he instructed, his head nodding in Tom’s direction, “and untie the tough guy. I don’t think he’ll cause us any more trouble.”
After untying Booker, the two Pi Taus unhooked Tom. The heavier of the two men held the slender officer upright as the other unlocked his handcuffs. With a nod from McCarter, the man released his hold, and Tom crumpled to the cement floor, his lack of rigidity reminding Booker of a child's neglected rag doll.
However, the jolt appeared to awaken Hanson from his fugue-like state, and getting to his hands and knees, he scurried across the basement floor, disappearing into a darkened corner like a wounded animal. Somebody laughed, but the sound was more of a high-pitched hysterical screech than a chuckle of amusement, and suddenly, the reality of what they had done became clear to the young men in the room. They had just participated in a gang rape, and if caught, they faced years in prison.
Instinctively, Booker made a move to go after Tom, but McCarter's foot stamped on his hand, the heel grinding his bones painfully against the cool, cement floor.
“There’s a bathroom through that door,” the Pledge Master advised, his chin motioning to the back of the basement. “When he’s cleaned up, we’ll let you go. Understood?”
Once free to rise, Booker clambered slowly to his feet, his cramped muscles screaming in protest. But he ignored both his pain and McCarter and turning away, he limped across the room in search of Tom.
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Beneath a Heart of Darkness