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A rhythmic pounding gnawed away at Namjoon's head, waking him from his nap. His skull felt like it was a moment away from splitting in two. A strangled groan escaped him, eyes wincing in attempt to open them.
Namjoon doesn't remember falling asleep.
He tries to sit up, only to realise he can't move, limbs ignoring him. His body feels like lead, but there's something more than that.
It takes him a minute before he realises.
He's chained to the bed.
Blood running cold, Namjoon violently thrashes against his restraints, cold steel bashing against the bed frame. The noise echoes through the room. A room that, Namjoon notes, he doesn't recognise.
When his eyes meet the grunge covered walls, Namjoon prays that what he sees is rust, and not-
"Finally."
Namjoon's entire body flinches at the voice, pitiful attempts to curl away stopped by the chains tugging at his limbs. He doesn't recognise the person walking towards him, and doesn't remember what happened. He sobs, silently.
The stranger stands by his bedside, looming over him. The air between them is stale, silent.
Minutes pass, the stranger seemingly taking time to enjoy the sight of his prey, until Namjoon can't take it anymore.
"...w-who ar-" A palm comes down hard, on Namjoon's face, knocking the words from him. He stills, mouth hanging open.
"I am so fucking tired of your voice." The stranger leans to snatch Namjoon's chin in his calloused hands, staring him down.
"But, I haven't-" Namjoon knows he fucked up before he can finish.
He hears the impact before he feels it; a punch to the gut that leaves him spitting blood. Another onslaught of tears fall down Namjoon's face as the pain settles deep in his gut.
"Are you dumb?" For a second Namjoon thinks maybe he is.
"What part of this situation looks like I'm gonna let you run your fucking mouth off?" Namjoon doesn't answer this time. "I'm going to break you. Always so fucking cocky aren't you, RM?" A chill rips through Namjoon's spine at the name.
Suddenly everything seems so much worse, knowing that it's to do with.... that side of him.
"I'm going to break you." The stranger repeats, lowering himself to undo Namjoon's chains. He should run. Or fight. He's not weak, he knows he'd stand a chance, but he doesn't. He lies submissive instead.
It doesn't take long for him to be striped bare, Namjoon was embarrassingly complaint, or perhaps too scared to do anything. It matters not to his attacker.
"Always rap about how you're the 'motherfuckin prime', huh?" Namjoon cringes as he recognises his own lyrics being spat back at him. "We'll see how cocky you are when I make you my slut, a doll with no use but to be filled."
Namjoon lets out a sob, the weight of the situation finally hitting him. He tries to sit up, maybe he still has a chance to run, to get away and-
"No you don't, bitch."
A well placed fist sends him slamming back into the mattress, winded. Namjoon doesn't notice the stranger leaving to retrieve a small vial, too busy desperately heaving for air.
He doesn't notice the metal trolley he wheels over either, tools scattered all over.
Namjoon only notices when the needle pierces the vein in his right arm.
"W-what- what is-" Getting no response, he panics, body tensing. Namjoon has no idea what he's just been drugged with, or what's going to happen.
"I told you, I'm going to break you Kim Namjoon."
Namjoon keens as he feels whatever's running through his veins kick in. It feels like he's on fire, his lower stomach cramping.
A slur of no's spill from his lips, he doesn't want this.
He doesn't want this.
He doesn't want this.
But he's going to be made to want this. He's going to be broken.
Namjoon cries as he feels his cock beginning to chub, pathetically resting on his bare stomach. The stranger smirks.
"Hold your legs back." Namjoon hesitates, he doesn't want to be compliant in this, he doesn't want to be ruined so easily. Yet, all it takes is eye contact for him to pull his thighs flush against his chest.
Namjoom whines, back arching from the bed, as he feels a lubed finger breach his rim. He's grateful to feel the harsh cold of lube, but the stranger doesn't give him any time to adjust before forcing another digit in, tearing his rim.
"N-no- please-" His protest earns him the third finger, splitting his unprepared hole open.
"You'll take it like a good slut. Won't you, RM?" The name rolls of the strangers tongue, spoken with dripping honey. Namjoon whimpers in agreement. "Good."
The stranger rips his fingers from Namjoon's hole, pulling a scream from his lips and his hole quivering around nothing. He tries to mute the whine falling from his lips at the emptiness. The stranger has no intention of filling Namjoon with fingers; the shuffle of metal objects on the tray conveys that.
It doesn't take long to choose, pulling a long speculum from the tray and placing the cold metal against Namjoon's fluttering hole.
He wastes no time shoving the instrument in, Namjoon keening as he feels the cold metal force itself deeper and deeper inside his guts.
"Gonna split you open so wide, so pretty, RM."
There is it again.
The name.
"Wonder how wide I can get you..." The stranger muses, slowly clicking the instrument open. At first, Namjoon doesn't feel anything, changes too subtle. He lays, taking it like a bitch, until he feels his guts opening for the stranger. The pressure is gentle at first, a slight girth stretching him from the inside out. But as the speculum is forced wider and wider, Namjoon can feel the dirty air of the room hit the walls of his insides.
The feeling of being so exposed, so open, makes him moan, filthily begging for more.
"God, you're so fucking needy." The strange silences him by angling the instrument up, shifting the pressure to Namjoon's waiting prostate. The fire burning deep inside Namjoon threatens to spill over. He doesn't want to cum from this, not yet, not now.
As the speculum is clicked to it's final width, Namjoon feels his mind clouding as the stretch inside him settles.
He awaits whatever's to come next, now that he's stretched wide enough to see into. The thought of someone staring, staring right into his pretty pink guts, makes his cock twitch against his stomach, precum dribbling from the slit.
Yet nothing comes, the stranger getting up to leave the room instead, turning back only momentarily to speak. "I'm going to make you beg for my cock like a slut, RM."