Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

FIC: Prisoner #0001, 1/1, Xavier/Erik, Erik/others, NC-17

Expand Messages
  • Henrika
    Title: Prisoner #0001 Author: Henrika (henrika_amanda@yahoo.se) Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Erik/Charles (consensual), Erik/Laurio (rape) Summary: Erik s time in
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 13, 2004
    • 0 Attachment
      Title: Prisoner #0001

      Author: Henrika (henrika_amanda@...)

      Rating: NC-17

      Pairing: Erik/Charles (consensual), Erik/Laurio (rape)

      Summary: Erik's time in prison after the Liberty Island attempt
      turns out to be an unparalleled nightmare… Set after X1.

      Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, and I'm not making any money
      from this story.

      Archive: My personal website
      http://www.geocities.com/henrika_amanda/Index Everybody else, please
      ask first.

      Feedback: Yes, please, and I welcome constructive criticism, but I
      won't tolerate any flames concerning the subject matter. Read the
      warnings and heed them.

      A/N: This is an extremely dark story that contains disturbing
      matters such as rape, abuse, violence, torture, suicidal thoughts,
      and tons of angst. If you can't handle it, stop reading now.


      Prologue

      Erik Lehnsherr knew that his time in the plastic prison after the
      Liberty Island attempt would not be pleasant, but he had no idea
      that it would become one continuous nightmare with no chances to
      escape. In retrospect, he probably would not have let them take him
      alive if he had known.

      Charles was there for him now, every second that he was needed, and
      really tried to help him process the mental and emotional trauma he
      had suffered at the hands of cruel and unthinking people who had
      done their best to break him and succeeded pretty well. Sweet, kind,
      and loving Charles! Erik could not help but wonder now what and
      where he'd be without his old friend. Many a time he thought he did
      not rightfully deserve the telepath's love and compassion, but he
      also knew that whatever happened, Charles would always be there when
      Erik needed him. Call it fate or something else. Love? The word made
      the mutant known to the world as Magneto smile. If such a thing
      existed, it was the word to describe what was between him and
      Xavier.

      Today it rained. Erik was sitting by the window in the room he
      shared with Charles, looking out through it. His right hand rested
      on the windowsill. Erik regarded it silently. Once his hands had
      been sinewy and strong, capable of much. Erik knew that his hands
      had played a large part in Charles' initial attraction to him.
      Strong yet slender, with long, expressive fingers. Charles had loved
      being touched by those hands, and therefore Erik had touched him as
      often and intimately as possible. And he had been so proud to be
      Charles' friend, and later his lover, despite the fact that they had
      rarely shown their love openly in those days.

      His right hand would never again become strong, though. Not after
      Laurio broke his wrist. It still hurt when he made certain
      movements, even though it happened more than two years ago. The
      wrist and some scar tissue in his rectum were the only physical
      proofs left of the horrors he'd gone through as a prisoner. He had
      regained some of the weight he had lost and no longer looked like a
      man dying of AIDS, cancer, or whatever. The mental scars were much
      more difficult to heal. Outwardly he was still Magneto; inwardly he
      was the frightened and broken little child rescued from Auschwitz
      after the Second World War. One thing was certain, though – the
      mutant terrorist Magneto was gone forever.

      Erik flinched slightly when the door opened but quickly relaxed when
      he heard the peaceful humming of Charles' electric wheelchair. He
      couldn't help it. The prison had caused him to become wary of every
      sound. Charles knew this, of course, and tried to avoid frightening
      him by moving soundlessly.

      "Erik? How are you feeling?" Charles wheeled closer to the other
      man, and when close enough, he placed his hand atop Erik's, which
      lay flat on the armrest of his chair.

      Erik turned his head and gave his friend a faint smile. "I'm coping,
      Charles," he replied. "I'm just tired."

      Charles sighed, knowing very well that Erik was not "just tired".
      His friend had good days, "okay" days, and also really bad days, and
      this definitely seemed like a case of the last-mentioned. When Erik
      had a "bad day", he used to behave exactly as he did now; not
      leaving their room and just sitting by the window, staring out
      through it. What Charles really feared was that Erik might one day
      find life unbearable at a really black moment. That Charles might
      find him hanging from the ceiling with a noose around his neck. He
      had never told Erik about his fears, but they were constantly there.

      "Would you like to have supper with me and…-"

      Erik shook his head already before Charles could finish the
      sentence. No, he could not stand it at the moment. Xavier's students
      and the X-men had all been very good to him, but he did not want to
      see any of them now. Only Charles.

      "Alright, then," Charles agreed softly, moving his hand to cup
      Erik's cheek. "I will have some food brought up here instead. How
      about that, my love?" His thumb brushed away a single tear drop that
      trickled down from his friend's eye. Erik gave him a grateful smile.

      "Much better…" Erik admitted.


      Prisoner #0001

      It already began the day he was taken to the prison. Erik knew very
      little of the time that went between the Liberty Island incident and
      his arrival at the plastic prison, because he had been drugged with
      heavy doses of sedatives. It all seemed like a long, incoherent
      dream. He understood their actions, though. He was considered very
      dangerous, and these people would do anything to prevent an escape.

      He knew that his stay here would be hellish, but at least
      this "prison" was constructed for him alone, and he wouldn't have to
      defend himself against other inmates. Mystique would get him out of
      here in due time. That was all he could think of. He would not have
      to die here. He just had to wait for the right moment.

      Still a little groggy from the drugs, Erik was taken to a small,
      sterile room with two doors. There was no furniture. He began to
      wonder whether this was the final stop when the two guards who had
      escorted him in here turned around and left the same way they had
      come. The other door, opposite this one, opened and another man
      entered.

      His presence immediately made Erik's skin crawl. He was big; not
      very tall, but broad-shouldered and muscular with a distinct layer
      of fat covering his bulk. His brownish hair was cropped short, like
      his beard, and when Erik met his gaze, he could see that the man had
      small, malevolent pig's eyes that regarded him with scorn and
      hatred. There was no way to know if this man hated all mutants or
      just him, though. In either case, this could only mean bad news.

      The man – also a prison guard, judging from his uniform – approached
      the apprehensive Erik in a very confident way. He was obviously sure
      that in this place Erik did not have access to his mutant powers.

      "My name is Laurio, and my job is to body search you before you're
      let into your cell," he said coldly, his evil eyes gleaming
      wickedly, as if he was secretly scorning Erik. "Take off your
      clothes."

      When Erik didn't react immediately, the man now known as Laurio took
      a step forward and poked Erik hard in the belly with his plastic
      truncheon. "Now, you fucking faggot mutant!" he hissed.

      Erik took an involuntary step back and rubbed the place where the
      truncheon had hit him. It hurt. His fears were justified. This man
      would not be afraid to hurt him, it seemed. Probably he even looked
      for excuses to do it. Erik started undressing. He wore a short-
      sleeved, white shirt, pants in the same colour, and underpants.
      Typical prisoner's clothes. He slowly pulled the shirt over his head
      and let it fall into a heap on the floor. His pants followed, and
      Erik briefly hesitated before removing his briefs as well. Laurio's
      cruel gaze told him that keeping them on was no option, though.

      He felt very exposed when standing naked before this man. The place
      where Laurio had hit him was already turning red. In time it would
      most certainly develop into a bruise. He rubbed it absently with one
      hand while waiting for further instructions.

      In the meantime, Laurio had put on white, plastic gloves. Erik
      dreaded what was to come.

      The man grabbed his jaw. "Open your mouth," he ordered. When Erik
      obeyed, two latex-clad, rough fingers were instantly jammed into his
      mouth, probing and searching for things that were not there. Did
      they really believe him to be so stupid that he would attempt to
      smuggle metallic or other forbidden items hidden inside his body?
      The fingers were shoved deep down his throat, and he fought to
      suppress his gag reflex that threatened to make him vomit. He
      couldn't breathe, and the when the need for air finally became too
      great, he had no choice but to bit down on the offensive digits in
      his mouth.

      Laurio's reaction was immediate and violent. He jerked his fingers
      out and hit Erik in the head with his fist, knocking the slender
      older man to the floor. The area of the blow pulsated with sharp
      pain, but Erik barely noticed it as he was busy inhaling the air
      he'd been denied far too long.

      "So, you like to bite me, you fucking mutant-scum!"

      "You were choking me…" Erik whispered in reply, now afraid even to
      turn up his eyes to look at the guard. He had curled into a ball to
      protect his body from further blows when Laurio grabbed his hair and
      jerked him up onto his knees. Erik screamed and struggled to break
      free, but to no avail. This man was physically much stronger than
      he.

      "This search is not finished yet," Laurio sneered. "Bend over."

      Erik could do nothing but comply when he was roughly shoved forward
      by the relentless hand tangled in his hair. Then Laurio was behind
      him, and Erik could feel his buttocks being pried apart. He clenched
      his teeth and tried to fight down the urge to crawl away. He did not
      do it only because he knew that such an action would be a reason for
      this sadistic man to deliver further blows. He could, however, not
      suppress the hoarse cry that escaped his throat when the same rough
      fingers were pressed into his rectum. Laurio paid no heed to his
      need to adjust. Erik expected this to be over quickly once it was
      made clear that he did not hide anything inside his anal passage,
      but he was wrong. The guard did not remove his fingers but shoved
      them deeper and scissored them to make the ordeal even more painful
      to Erik.

      "Do you like this, you faggot?" Laurio asked scornfully while
      digging his fingers into Erik's unwilling channel. "Oh, I can see
      you do… Your kind does, isn't that right?"

      Erik didn't know if "your kind" referred to mutants or homosexuals,
      but either way it didn't matter. This was awful. This sick man
      couldn't seriously believe that this turned him on, could he? His
      penis was as limp as it could possibly get, and his ball-sac was
      shrivelled, partly from fear, partly from cold.

      A few torturous seconds later Laurio finally removed his digits, and
      Erik silently exhaled in relief. His backside hurt, and it would be
      sore for a few more days, but still he couldn't help thinking that
      it could have been worse. This man could have…

      Laurio rose to his feet and pushed Erik to the ground. "Get
      dressed," he ordered curtly, and Erik wasn't slow to comply.
      Presumably this meant that his ordeal was over now. When he was
      finished pulling on his clothes, Laurio grinned at him, and his
      pig's eyes gleamed again.

      "Congratulations, faggot. You passed the examination," he said. "But
      this isn't over."

      Erik flinched away when Laurio approached him and grabbed his arm to
      escort him out of the room. Now he was obviously being taken to
      the "real" prison. Things had not started out well, but it could
      have been worse. He tried to consider that when the ominous four
      words "but this isn't over" invaded his thoughts.

      *~*~*~*

      Two weeks passed before Laurio paid his next visit to Erik. Magneto
      had pretty much gotten used to his situation, even though he didn't
      like it one bit. He was practically living in a box and was the
      constant subject of scrutiny. Whether he ate, slept, took a dump, or
      brushed his teeth, he was watched. There was no privacy whatsoever.
      So far he had been left alone, though, and the guards who came to
      bring him his food, change his towels, and things like that paid
      little or no attention to him. That was fine with Erik. He had been
      alone before and could handle his loneliness now. His own thoughts
      were much better company than any of the people here.

      Then one day Laurio was standing inside his cell, the slide door to
      the plastic tunnel leading out still open. Erik's heart rate
      immediately increased and anxiety awoke within him. His food was
      brought to him about an hour ago, and Erik pretty soon noticed that
      Laurio was carrying nothing in his hands. Then why was he here?

      "Hello there, mutant-scum. How's your day?" he asked with a false
      tone of friendliness in his voice.

      "Fine – until now, at least," Erik replied, hoping that the man
      would get the sarcasm and leave him alone. Somehow he doubted it,
      though. Laurio was here for a reason.

      The hulking guard advanced toward Erik, who was sitting down on a
      chair by his plastic table. Erik glanced up at him warily. "What do
      you want, Laurio?" he asked.

      Laurio smiled, and his smile was predatory. The wicked glint was
      back in his eyes. "Take off your clothes," he said.

      Erik first couldn't believe that he had actually heard that. "What?!
      Excuse me?" he exclaimed.

      "You heard me, faggot. Take your clothes off! Now!" All of the false
      friendliness instantly disappeared from his voice, leaving only a
      cruel, commanding tone. Erik just stared at him incredulously for a
      moment, but not until Laurio raised his fist to strike him did he
      realize that this was serious. Having no time to parry the blow,
      Erik was struck across the face, and the force of it made him fall
      from his chair and lose his breath when he hit the floor. The guard
      was over him in a second, pinning him to the ground with his weight
      and locking his hand around his throat.

      Erik had never been a physical fighter and knew little of how to
      defend himself in a close combat. His head was spinning. This just
      wasn't happening! How dare Laurio? There were people watching them!
      They had to come and help him!

      "Help…!" Erik cried desperately. "Help me, somebody!" //They have to
      see this! They have to stop him! They must help me…!//

      Then Laurio tightened his hold on Erik's throat, and the older man
      could feel his airways being squeezed shut. His eyesight blackened
      momentarily, and he was forced to cease struggling. The guard took
      the opportunity to rip his shirt open and then twisted his right
      nipple brutally. Erik hissed out from the pain but could not scream
      because a hand was still locked around his throat.

      "Like that, you little bitch?" Laurio asked gleefully, his stinking
      breath washing over Erik's face. He moved his hand from Erik's
      abused nipple down to the waistband of the mutant's pants to tear
      them down.

      "Stop this… Get off me…!" Erik cried one last time and tried to
      shove the heavier man away by pushing his shoulders and upper arms.

      "Oh, I'll get myself off, alright!" Laurio tore down Erik's pants
      along with his briefs and then loosened his hold on the older man's
      throat only to hit him across the face. The blow stunned Erik, who
      sank back, momentarily dazed. The coppery taste of blood was evident
      in his mouth when he was flipped over onto his stomach by rough
      hands. There was no doubt about this now, and Erik knew it. He was
      going to be raped. Pretty soon he could hear the sound of a belt
      being unbuckled and then felt his legs being shoved apart. The
      plastic floor was cold against his bare chest. The torn shirt did
      not offer much protection.

      Laurio was not gentle. Erik cried out in pain and desperation when
      he was penetrated and his sensitive sphincter was rudely breached by
      the invading organ. The heavy man was lying on top of him, pressing
      him firmly against the floor and giving him difficulties to breathe.
      Sometime during the rape Laurio grabbed his hair and hit his head
      against the floor.

      "You like this, faggot?" he sneered in Erik's ear while thrusting
      vehemently into the clenching passage, now lubricated by Erik's
      blood. Magneto didn't reply. He had given up resistance long ago and
      was now only waiting for the assault to end. Laurio didn't really
      last long; just seven minutes, but it felt like a lifetime to Erik.

      With a final thrust the pig of a man grunted and came, shooting his
      seed deep into Erik's bloody, abused backside. He quickly pulled
      out, and Erik heard the sound of a closing zipper and a belt being
      buckled. He still lay unmoving, afraid that he if moved, Laurio
      would kick him in the stomach, or something worse.

      "Mutie faggot," Laurio's voice said from above him. "Look at you
      now! Wanna get up and take it like a real man?"

      Erik still didn't move and showed no signs of having heard the
      words. //If I stay like this long enough, he will tire and leave…//

      And he was right. Laurio snorted to himself and turned on his heel,
      leaving Erik's plastic cell through the transparent tunnel that was
      the only entrance and exit. Not until he heard the slide door slip
      back shut did Erik dare to open his eyes and lift his head.

      When the immediate sense of terror had faded, he became aware of the
      pain. It was strongest in his nether regions and his head. There was
      an acute buzzing in his ears and when he tried to focus his eyes,
      his vision blurred. And then his lower lip was split and leaked
      blood. The burning pain in his rectum was undoubtedly the worst,
      though. Erik noticed the clear red bloodstains mixed with whitish
      drops of the man's semen on the clean, plastic floor when he
      struggled into a sitting position. He was still bleeding down there
      and would probably continue to do so for the next twelve hours.

      Why? Why had Laurio done this? Erik couldn't understand it. He
      didn't know then man and had nothing personal against him. Besides,
      Laurio seemed to hate both mutants and homosexuals. He was both, and
      his rapist knew it.

      After cleaning himself as well as possible, Erik crawled into bed,
      only wearing his briefs. He would have preferred sleeping naked, but
      since his rectum was still bleeding, he wanted to avoid staining the
      sheets. He had dabbed his anus with damp tissues and placed some
      toilet paper in his briefs. Hopefully the bleeding had ceased when
      he woke up again.

      Erik knew now that he was in hell with no chance to escape it.
      Laurio could – and probably would – come back to do it again. No one
      would care. No one would stop him. There was no help to get. He was
      alone.

      *~*~*~*

      Erik was living in a nightmare that began as soon as he woke up.
      Laurio would visit him at least once a week, sometimes more often,
      and Erik spent every waking moment being afraid and anxious of the
      future. None of the other guards cared. After Laurio had been there,
      no one usually came in after him. Erik's body was always full of
      welts, marks, and bruises that told of the constant abuse. New ones
      were caused before the old ones could heal.

      He had given up struggling already after the second time. Resistance
      only made it worse and caused him more serious injuries. Once he
      accidentally happened to scratch Laurio's arm, and the man broke his
      finger as a punishment. That took over a month to heal.

      Erik had more or less resigned himself to his situation. When it
      happened now, he went to lie passively on the bed, face down. If he
      did that, and Laurio was in a good mood, he was sometimes spared the
      beating. He never cooperated, though. Whenever he was raped and felt
      the evil man's fat cock moving inside of him and tearing him up, he
      tried to imagine that he was somewhere else, or at least that his
      mind was. He often thought of his happy childhood in Poland before
      the Nazis occupied the country and started deporting Jews. But it
      didn't always work. The pain often broke any and all illusions, and
      all he could concentrate on was the rape.

      He had tried to relax a few times to make it go smoother, but that
      never worked either. Laurio never used anything to ease the entry,
      not even spit. Erik was certain that he did it on purpose. This was
      *supposed* to hurt and cause him pain; it was the whole point. When
      he was done, Laurio either left immediately or stayed a while to
      insult or taunt him. "Faggot", "mutie", "kike", and "pussy" where
      some of the words that he was often called.

      Charles came to visit him for the first time about five weeks after
      he was imprisoned. Erik had not expected it and did not know what to
      do. His old friend was probably the only one who could still help
      him, but he couldn't tell Charles about this. He just couldn't. The
      humiliation was too great. He didn't want to see Charles at all. His
      presence only made the ordeal even more unbearable.

      Knowing that Charles never probed his mind without permission, he
      guarded his mental shields with the utmost care and hoped that
      nothing would reach the telepath. Charles' soft, gentle, grey eyes
      looked into his, and he was quite sure that his friend could see
      that something was very wrong. There were some fading bruises left
      on his face, but that was not all. He refused to open up. When
      Charles talked to him, he gave short answers or none at all. Charles
      finally tired of trying and left, and Erik thought that he had seen
      the last of his old friend and former lover. But Xavier came back.

      Even though he dreaded them, Charles' visits were probably what kept
      Erik alive during is time in the plastic prison. A few faint rays of
      light pierced the darkness in his soul every time he heard that
      Charles was coming. It was difficult to see his friend, because he
      could not open his heart to the telepath, but at least he knew that
      Charles cared about him.

      When Charles had gone, the blackness immediately returned with full
      power. Erik lost his appetite and started losing weight rapidly.
      Many times he left his food completely untouched, because it
      disgusted him. He washed himself many times a day, because he felt
      dirty and used at all times. No scrubbing in the world could make
      this filth go away, though.

      He slept a lot, and even though his sleep was plagued by nightmares,
      the dreamland was a place of refuge for him. He knew that his
      increasing need for sleep had both physical and psychological
      reasons. The weight loss and lack of nutriment had made his body
      even weaker, and for a while there was a vain hope that Laurio might
      leave him alone if he noticed how utterly broken and helpless Erik
      had become. But he had no such luck. The sadistic guard treated him
      as cruelly and brutally as always, and the rapes continued. Erik was
      in a state of despair. He had to make this stop. Somehow. There had
      to be an escape, one way or another.

      The chance to escape was so minimal that he immediately gave up
      thinking about it. Suicide. That was the final way out. Perhaps it
      was all he had left to try. He dreaded it, but if "living" like this
      for the rest of his existence was his only other choice, he would
      choose death.

      He knew that he was being closely monitored, so to succeed, he had
      to do it quickly. Erik was hopeful for a while, but his attempt to
      hang himself failed miserably. Before he could even get properly
      started, his tool – a stripe of fabric from an old sheet – was taken
      from him, and that night they even tied him to the bed with leather
      straps.

      Laurio came already on the next day. The guard raped him violently
      and beat him worse than ever before. Erik almost believed that the
      man would kill him this time and actually started hoping for it. He
      did not die, but obviously Laurio had gone too far this time,
      because a doctor was summoned to check on him the very same evening.

      The physician who arrived was in his forties, tall and thin with
      short, red hair and glasses. He said his name, but Erik could not
      remember it afterwards. He examined the injured mutant in a very
      disinterested way and stated a jaw fracture, a knocked out tooth, a
      mild concussion, a broken wrist, abdominal bruising, and rectal
      damage. Erik's wrist was bandaged, and he received a shot with
      penicillin to prevent any possible infections, but nothing more. Not
      even something for the pain. The physician left quickly when he was
      done with his task without even looking back at Erik.

      Erik both looked forward to and dreaded a visit from Charles now,
      because there was simply no way to hide the fact that he'd been
      seriously abused this time. His next visitor was however not Charles
      but someone else.

      It was William Stryker. Erik knew the man from before. He was in the
      military and also a very brilliant scientist – and he hated mutants.
      After their conversation that day, Erik knew a bit more of Stryker's
      intentions. The man had stayed serious throughout the visit and
      spoken in a very businesslike voice, and yet Erik had spotted the
      malicious, scornful gleam in his eyes behind the glasses. Stryker
      mocked him.

      Erik still had obvious welts left from the latest beating, and he
      made no attempts to hide them. It was hardly any use. Stryker knew
      very well what was going on anyway.

      "I can make all this stop, Erik," he had said in a calm, cool
      voice. "I know how you suffer. All I ask is that you do me a small
      favour."

      At that moment hope had been rekindled in Erik's heart, but as soon
      as he found out what Stryker wanted from him, he sank back into the
      black abyss of despair. This man asked him to betray his dearest
      friend and his whole kind by revealing secrets about things that
      could be used for very sinister purposes, and he was not willing to
      do that even to get himself out of this nightmare. And there was no
      guarantee that Stryker would keep his promise even *if* Erik agreed
      to reveal crucial information. The man hated his kind and thought
      that the only good mutant was a dead mutant.

      "Too bad, Mr. Lehnsherr," Stryker had said before he left. "And I
      believed that these months here had made you humble and reasonable."

      Erik went to bed with a big lump in his chest that evening. He now
      realized that there was no way out of this pitch of hell. His
      miserable existence would continue until he finally died. Charles'
      next visit. That was all he had to look forward to.

      *~*~*~*

      When Erik was asleep, his dreams were often haunted by terrible
      nightmares of both Laurio and nightmares about Auschwitz, which he
      had more or less gotten used to over the years. Many a time had he
      clung to Charles at night because of them and cried in the gentle
      telepath's arms once Charles awakened him and murmured softly that
      everything was alright.

      All his dreams were not bad, though, and they still weren't. This
      particular night he had travelled back in time and Charles was with
      him again, as a young, healthy man with strong legs – the way he had
      been before the accident that rendered him paralysed from the waist
      down. They were carefree and happy in a way that they had never
      been, not even as young men when the mutant issue was not as
      prominent.

      Charles was the only man that Erik had ever willingly let into his
      body. He had never trusted anyone else enough to allow it. They were
      making love in his dream, softly and tenderly, and Charles rocked
      into him with soft, delicious thrusts, not painful, violent stabs
      like Laurio did when he raped him. The warm weight of his lover's
      body felt pleasant on top of him, and when they kissed, he eagerly
      opened his mouth to sample Charles' hot, moist lips and wet tongue.
      It was all wonderful. He felt that he was close to a climax, and so
      was Charles. He…

      Erik was abruptly pulled out of his dream when someone jerked his
      covers down and slapped him across the face. His eyes snapped open
      in shock, and when his eyesight cleared after adjusting to the
      sudden light, he could see Laurio standing by his bed, staring down
      at him with a shark's grin. The guard's eyes moved over his prone
      body and stopped by his crotch. Erik only wore briefs and a T-shirt,
      and he was suddenly painfully aware that he had an erection.

      "Well, well, what have we here?" Laurio sneered. "Are you that happy
      to see me, faggot?"

      Erik stared back into the leering face with the small, evil eyes and
      refused to accept that his wonderful dream had been interrupted by
      something like this. Now he would be raped and beaten again, and the
      humiliation was greater than ever. His erection. There was no way to
      hide it. All he could do was to wish that it would disappear before
      his rapist got started.

      Laurio bent down and wrenched the small underpants down and off.
      Erik's arousal was quickly flagging, but it had not yet disappeared
      completely.

      "Were you dreaming about me?"

      "Fuck me and get it over with!" Erik hissed back. "That is why
      you're here, isn't it? Just do what you always do!"

      But Laurio just shook his head in reply, still grinning. "No, mutant-
      shit. I thought we might try something different this time."

      He unbuckled his belt and reached into his pants to take his cock
      out, giving it a few quick, short strokes to make it harden. Erik
      shrank back from him, pressing up against the wall, but he had
      nowhere to go. Laurio then buried his hand in Erik's thick hair and
      jerked his head toward himself. The mutant screamed and for a moment
      believed that his scalp would be torn from his scull. When the
      immediate pain had faded, Erik opened his eyes and found his face
      only a few inches from his rapist's half-erect member. The image and
      the smell were nauseating and he almost vomited when he realized
      Laurio's intentions.

      "Come on, faggot, open up," the guard urged him.

      "No…!" Erik growled with a strange kind of fury blazing within him.
      He would *not* do it. No way in hell. He just couldn't. Laurio had
      to kill him before he sucked the bastard's cock.

      The hold on his hair tightened. "Do you have a choice, you think,
      fuck-bag? I know that you've sucked cocks before, so this should be
      nothing new."

      Erik glared up at him with hatred and rage burning in his
      eyes. "Rape me if you want to – I can't stop you. But I will *not*
      cooperate, and I will *not* suck your cock!"

      The grin had disappeared from Laurio's face and been replaced by a
      look of anger. "You will, if I so have to pry your mouth open!"

      "Do that, and I will bite you!" Erik hissed.

      "If you bite me, I will snap your neck, fucking faggot kike!"

      "Then do it! Kill me! That's what you have wanted all along, isn't
      it? I'm nothing more than another dead mutant to you. How much do
      you get? If you really hate us "faggots" as much as you claim, he
      must pay you well. *Is* Stryker paying you to fuck me, or are you
      simply a faggot just as I?"

      Laurio's only reply was a growl of rage and a hard punch to Erik's
      face that threw him against the wall and caused blood to flow from
      his nose and lip. He had no time to recover before the guard was
      over him, pressing him into the mattress with his greater weight and
      squeezing his throat with one hand. Erik prayed he would lose
      consciousness. It would not hurt as much then.

      He had no such luck, though. Laurio did not hit him again and
      loosened his hold on his throat before the lack of oxygen made him
      faint. "Okay, as you wish!" Laurio snarled in his face. The man had
      drunk a beer or more this evening. "I'll fuck you!"

      Erik's legs were brutally shoved apart, and his rapist thrust into
      him with one single stab. He screamed in agony, and this only seemed
      to increase Laurio's arousal. His own erection was fortunately
      completely gone, and his shrivelled little penis lay flaccid against
      his inner thigh in its nest of grey hair.

      There was something now that was different from all the previous
      times namely the position. Laurio had never fucked him face to face
      before. He always chose to rape Erik from behind, and while Erik did
      not know why for certain, he suspected that not having to look into
      his victim's eyes made it less personal to the guard. Laurio also
      never touched his genitals except to wrench and squeeze them in a
      painful and unimaginable way.

      Erik was delivered one more blow before the rape ended, but it was
      not hard enough to stun him. Laurio wanted him to be fully aware of
      what happened until the end. Erik was sure of that. When he had
      finished, Laurio quickly pulled out, as always, and used Erik's torn
      briefs to wipe his blood- and come-covered cock before tucking it
      back into his trousers. Erik moaned, but he lay completely still.
      Well, at least his rapist would not try to force his disgusting
      organ into his mouth. That was a small comfort.

      But instead of leaving, Laurio stayed by Erik's bed and continued to
      leer down at the abused, older man. Erik looked back up with dismay
      in his eyes. Why didn't he just leave when he was finished? Not even
      Laurio could already be up for another turn, could he?

      "You know, freak, you probably prefer a cock that never flags,
      right? Why don't you try this!"

      Laurio loosened his plastic truncheon from its fastening on his belt
      and held the frightening object visible to Erik. At first the mutant
      didn't understand. Yes, his abuser had used the truncheon to beat
      him a few times, but what was he…

      The answer came quickly when his legs were opened once more and the
      blunt end of the plastic object was thrust into his bleeding, torn,
      aching rectum. Erik couldn't help it. He cried out louder than ever
      before and started thrashing wildly. The truncheon was pushed deeper
      inside him than Laurio's cock had ever been. The pain was
      excruciating, and Erik seriously did not believe he would survive
      this.

      He is going to rupture my bowels, he thought. It felt as if the
      object was in his stomach now. He squirmed weakly and tried to pull
      himself away, but every time he moved, more plastic was thrust into
      his rectum. His inner muscles were working frantically to force the
      invading piece of cold, hard material out, but it was no use.

      After about eight inches of the truncheon was inside him, Laurio
      pulled it back out only to thrust it in again with full force. One
      could easily see how far it had been shoved the first time on the
      blood coating the transparent plastic. Erik had never begged before,
      but now he didn't see he had any choice. This had to stop, and if
      complete submission was what his tormentor craved, then he would
      have it.

      "Please…" Erik whispered. "Please… stop… I'll do what you want… Just
      stop… I beg you…"

      Laurio immediately stopped his movements and a smirk formed over his
      face. "Oh, is that so? How humble of you, mutant-freak!"

      The truncheon was pulled out of Erik's bleeding rectum and was not
      thrust back in, but his reprieve was short. He sighed in relief when
      the awful feeling of the plastic rod tearing him up disappeared, and
      Laurio caught him completely off-guard when he suddenly brought the
      bloody object near his face and pressed it into his mouth. Erik
      tried to scream and gagged immediately, coughing and sputtering
      convulsively when the odious, disgusting taste of blood, semen, and
      feces from his bowels filled his mouth and throat.

      "You bite down on that!" Laurio laughed cruelly. "You'll only ruin
      your teeth!"

      Being raped orally with the smeared object did not hurt as much as
      having it thrust up his anal passage, but this was more humiliating
      than anything he'd been forced to endure so far. Tears filled his
      eyes and started pouring down his cheeks. The object was growing in
      his mouth and soon threatened to make him throw up. What would
      happen if he did that? Would he choke on his own vomit? Even though
      Erik wanted death at this moment, that was not an appealing way to
      die.

      When Laurio finally decided that he had tormented the poor mutant
      enough for the day, he simply pulled the truncheon out of Erik's
      mouth and turned to leave. Before he did, though, he poked the
      mutant's now very prominent ribs with the hated and feared object.

      This time Erik did not get up to wash himself – as he usually did –
      or even to check how bad his injuries were. Instead he stayed in the
      bed among the bloodied sheets and curled into a ball, hoping that he
      would fall asleep and die before he woke up again. Perhaps his
      bowels had been ruptured, after all? The pain at the moment
      certainly made it feel believable. Maybe he was bleeding internally
      and dying already? It was a comforting thought.

      *~*~*~*

      It became clear already on the next day that he would not die from
      his injuries. He fell asleep and woke up to discover that his body
      was aching all over. The sheet under him was coloured rusty with
      dried blood, which also clotted around his torn anus and on his
      inner thighs. Erik moaned feebly and tried to change his position a
      little. Because of his injured and swollen nose, he had been
      breathing through his mouth all night, and now his throat – also
      still sore from the heinous assault – felt like sandpaper.

      Water… he thought and figured he had to get up and drag himself over
      to the washstand, but as soon as he moved, the pain between his legs
      told him that he wasn't getting anywhere in a while.

      This could simply not go on. Erik realized that he had two choices.
      One was committing suicide, and the other was to tell Charles
      everything next time his old friend came to visit him. He had been
      treated like this for 14 months now, and the entire time had been a
      hell on earth. Maybe… *maybe* Charles could do something if he got
      to know what really was done to his old friend and lover. Charles
      was the only one who still cared about him, after all. Surely he
      wouldn't just leave Erik here if he told him.

      He prayed that Charles would come soon. If Laurio did anything like
      this again, he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle it. Didn't anyone
      care? Didn't they see him as a human being? He knew that he was no
      angel, but he did *not* deserve this.

      Erik thought that he would have preferred being locked up in a
      dungeon with Hannibal Lecter as his cellmate to where he was now. It
      could hardly get any worse than this.

      Charles Xavier came to the plastic prison only five days after
      Erik's latest assault, and what he got to see and hear that day
      shocked him beyond comprehension. The bruises caused by Laurio were
      still left on Erik's face, although some had already taken on a
      green-yellowish colour.

      "Hello, Erik," Charles said, wheeling to the table at which Erik was
      sitting. As always, he had been forced to leave his electric
      wheelchair behind and borrow a plastic one from the prison. "Have
      you fallen out of bed again?" he asked tentatively when noticing his
      friend's badly bruised face.

      Erik quietly shook his head and decided not to waste any time. He
      lifted his head and met Charles' inquiring, sympathetic gaze. "No,
      Charles," he replied in a weary, sad voice. "I have been beaten,
      just as I have on every other occasion when you have seen me with
      these bruises."

      Charles' eyes widened from shock and surprise. "Beaten? Who did
      that? Why? You have never told me about this before!"

      "That's because I was too ashamed. But I am telling you now, so will
      you listen to me?"

      "Erik, of course… Tell me. What's happening here?"

      Erik started telling his tragic, sad, and shocking story from
      beginning to end, starting with the intimate body search by Laurio
      the first day and finishing with the horrible anal and oral rape
      involving the truncheon that took place only five days ago. Charles
      did not interrupt him once, and when he was finished, Erik
      discovered that he was crying. Tears were flowing freely down his
      cheeks, and he did nothing to stop them.

      "You have to help me, Charles…" he sobbed. "Please… I… I can't take
      this any longer… It… it's only getting worse…! I want out of here. I
      don't want to spend the rest of my life as a… a…"

      So far Charles had only listened without interrupting, and what he
      now knew almost made it difficult for him to breathe. Had *his* Erik
      truly been… For 14 months… It sounded unbelievable, and at the same
      time it made sense. That explained how withdrawn and introvert Erik
      had become, his aversion to looking Charles in the eye, and his
      unwillingness to talk. It also explained his dramatic weight loss
      and the almost constant bruises on his face and arms – and surely on
      other parts of his body, which Charles could not see.

      "Erik…" he began, suddenly lacking words. "I am so sorry… I don't
      understand… Why have you not told me about this before? How could
      you have kept all this within you for so long? Erik…"

      Now it was as if a dam burst inside Erik, and he threw himself off
      his chair, right at Charles feet, clutching his friend's knees and
      calves. "Please, Charles, you have to take me out of here!" he
      cried, looking up at Charles' shocked face with his wet, blood-shot
      eyes. "I can't live like this! You have to help me…!"

      "Oh, Erik…" Charles began and gently cupped the other man's bruised
      face in his hands to calm him. "Of course I will help you. I can't
      let this go on… I will talk with your attorney the first thing I do
      tomorrow, and…"

      "No!" Erik cried out at once. "Now! I want out of here *now*! I
      won't last here another night! Charles, don't you understand? He
      will do something worse when they find out that I have told you! He
      will kill me this time, or cripple me, at least. You are the only
      one who can help me… Please… Take me out of here… You can do it.
      Just use your telepathy."

      //Erik, do you realize what you're asking?// Charles no longer dared
      to speak out loud in fear of being monitored and listened to. He
      lightly touched the side of Erik's head with his fingers and
      listened for an answer.

      It came immediately. //Please. I really can't cope anymore. If you
      won't help me, I will kill myself before he can do it again.//

      //Erik…!//

      Not only the look in Erik's haunted, hollow eyes but his thoughts
      told Charles that he was being sincere. Despite everything that had
      happened, his old friend was still dear to him, and the idea of the
      rape and abuse continuing made him cold within.

      "Alright, Erik…" he whispered. "Alright. I will take you with me."

      Erik buried his face in Charles' lap and just cried. This time,
      though, it was with relief.

      "However, there is one thing which you must promise me."

      "Yes?" Erik looked up, both anxious and expectant.

      "You must promise me that you won't use your powers to harm anyone
      once we're out of here."

      "Alright, I promise."

      *~*~*~*

      The people Charles "froze" with his telepathy reminded Erik very
      much of the incredibly lifelike wax dolls that he had seen at Madame
      Tussaud's wax cabinet in London many years ago. Fortunately Laurio
      did not seem to be at work today. Erik did not desire to see him,
      either as a person or a wax doll.

      He had expected Cyclops to have accompanied Charles as a bodyguard
      and driver, but instead he saw Wolverine. At the sight of the big,
      ferocious mutant Erik cringed away, momentarily forgetting that he
      was no longer captive in the plastic box and free to use his powers.
      Logan's face got a look of fright, and his claws immediately popped
      up from between his knuckles.

      "Logan! It's alright," Charles said in a warning tone, but that
      could not eliminate the frown on Logan's face or his suspicions.
      When seeing Magneto, his first and only thought was that the
      notorious mutant terrorist had escaped from his prison and taken
      Xavier as his hostage. But when Magneto recoiled from him with the
      look of a hunted animal in his eyes, and after a second, more
      thorough look, he noticed how changed the old man was. He was as
      thin as a rack, and his face was badly bruised. Wasn't there a limp,
      also?

      Erik took a few deep breaths and had to lean against Charles'
      wheelchair for support. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest,
      and his head throbbed vehemently, creating a buzzing in his ears. He
      would faint soon. He could feel it. His legs would soon fail him as
      well, as he had not properly used them in months.

      He was in a corridor with windows now, and when looking out through
      them, he could see glimpses of the outside world – a sight he had
      craved for 14 months but which now frightened him. I'm agoraphobic,
      he realized. I can no longer go outside.

      "He… Help me…" were Erik's last words before his head began to spin,
      and he fell, passed out, to the floor.

      "Logan, it seems like you'll have to carry him," Charles stated
      calmly. "Now come. We must hurry. I cannot control the minds of over
      100 people for an indefinite time period."

      Logan hesitated and looked at Xavier as if he'd gone mad. The
      professor just returned his gaze with a steady one of his own, which
      made it clear to Logan that he was serious. "But… where will you
      take him?" he asked.

      "To the mansion, of course. Or do you have a better idea? Now hurry!
      If I were not confined to this chair, I would carry him myself, but
      I require your help now."

      Logan asked no more questions but went to pick Erik up, although he
      approached the lax body cautiously, as though he believed that
      Magneto would suddenly wake up and send him crashing into a wall.
      That did not happen, however. Erik's head lolled limply over his
      muscled arm when he finally lifted the weak, elder man from the
      floor. He was very light. He must have lost at least 25 pounds since
      Logan saw him at Liberty Island, and even then Magneto had been
      lean.

      "It's alright, Logan, I assure you," Charles said reassuringly when
      sensing Logan's hesitancy. "I will explain to you later."

      *~*~*~*

      Erik regained consciousness sometime during the drive back to the
      Xavier mansion. Already before opening his eyes, he could feel that
      he was in a car that was moving, and there was a hand on his head,
      stroking his hair with slow, gentle caresses. His head was in
      Charles' lap. He was not really sure how he knew that this was
      Charles, because he had not yet heard his voice or seen his face.
      Maybe it was his scent, the faint sounds of his breaths, or the way
      his hand moved.

      Charles immediately noticed Erik's stirring and anxiously waited for
      his reaction. His friend moaned weakly, and a shiver passed through
      his emaciated frame, making Charles wonder if the blanket he had
      covered Erik with was enough to keep the cold at bay.

      "Be calm, Erik," he murmured softly. "You are safe now. No one will
      hurt you. We will soon reach the mansion. How are you feeling?"

      "I… I…" Erik tried, but somehow he did not have the strength or the
      motivation to continue. In fact, he was feeling nauseous. It had to
      be an empty feeling, though, because he had not eaten anything in a
      long time. When turning his eyes up, he could see treetops whistling
      past in the car window. He was lying in the backseat. Then who was
      driving? Right, Logan. Erik dimly recalled seeing Wolverine at the
      prison before he collapsed.

      The car reached the approach to the mansion only ten minutes later.
      Erik was awake by now, but he was still so weak and groggy that
      Charles insisted that Logan pick him up and carry him inside. But
      Erik objected.

      "I will walk on my own, thank you!" he muttered when Logan bent down
      to life him out of the car. Logan backed away immediately, not
      caring to make another attempt.

      "At least take Logan's hand," Charles urged him. "We'll see if
      you're strong enough to stand on your own."

      Erik reluctantly took the proffered hand of the other mutant, and
      Logan almost winced when Erik's claw-like hand gripped his own.
      Magneto felt dizzy at first, but that feeling vanished after a few
      seconds, and he was indeed strong enough to stand up by himself.

      It was past sunset, and Erik spent some time simply looking at the
      darkening world around him. It felt almost surreal. Sadly he thought
      that he actually had developed some sort of agoraphobia during his
      time in the prison. Now he only wanted to get inside as quickly as
      possible.

      The Xavier mansion had been his home for over 20 years in the past,
      so Erik did not need to be told where to go. Without even asking, he
      assumed that Charles would take him to what had once been their
      joint bedchamber, and he was right. He really didn't want to be
      alone right now, and supposedly Charles knew this.

      Before they got there, however, Xavier wanted to take Erik down to
      the med-lab to be examined by Jean. "Let's go there first. Jean will
      examine your injuries. We must make sure that there has been no
      infection or…"

      "No!" Erik replied vehemently. "Forget it. I… I don't want her to do
      it." The thought of undressing before Jean and letting her examine
      his abused backside revolted him. He had already endured so much
      humiliation and could not take more.

      Instead of arguing, Charles seemed to understand and did not try to
      persuade him. "Alright, Erik, I understand. Then come with me, and I
      will let you rest until tomorrow."

      Once they reached Charles' chamber, Erik realized that he wanted to
      get cleaned. A bath would be nice. Yes, that's what he wanted. Not
      that he believed that even a nice, hot bath could take away the
      feeling of filth that he carried, but it would make him feel better
      than before.

      Charles' bathroom was designed for disabled persons, and everything
      was large and wide, so that the telepath could move around in his
      wheelchair without risk getting stuck. Charles was the one who
      started to fill the roomy bathtub with suitably hot water, while
      Erik sat down on the toilet seat, waiting for him to
      finish. "Alright, I think it's ready for you now," he said after
      checking the water temperature with his hand. Steam was rising from
      the tub and making the air inside the bathroom hot and humid.

      Erik began to shed his clothes. Charles regarded him
      hesitantly. "Would you like me to leave, while you…?"

      "No, stay," Erik replied. "I want you here. Who knows, I might even
      collapse again and drown in the tub."

      The last was a weak attempt at joking, but it did not particularly
      amuse Charles. He even suspected that it might happen, even though
      Erik might not realize it himself. Despite knowing Erik's grim state
      of health, Xavier could not help but gasp in shock when he saw his
      friend's nude body. Erik truly looked like a concentration camp
      victim or a man dying from some incurable disease. He had bruises
      everywhere; marks, welts, scratches… Fingertip-sized bruising on his
      hips and inner thighs that told of Laurio's brutal treatment during
      the rapes. Some scars, as well. This had been going on for over a
      year, after all.

      Erik showed no signs of modesty, though. He slipped into the tub,
      sighing when he immersed his sore body in the pleasant, hot water.
      Many a time at the plastic prison, he had scrubbed himself
      frantically to get rid of the filth and dirt that just wouldn't come
      off. He felt the urge to do the same now but controlled himself.

      Charles had a large, soft sponge which he hesitantly picked up after
      a while. It felt soothing against his skin, and he started rubbing
      it up and down his skinny, longish arms. His wrists bore proofs of
      the assaults as well, and his right one – still not fully healed –
      ached when he made hasty movements.

      Erik stayed in the bath for almost half an hour and would have
      stayed longer if not Charles had wheeled over to him and gently told
      him that he was clean now. The telepath offered him a big, green
      bathing towel to wrap around his body when he came up, and Erik
      accepted it, hanging it loosely around his shoulders.

      Directly after he had stepped out of the tub, dizziness overcame him
      again, and he had to lean against the wall so as not to faint. With
      his eyes closed, he waited for it to pass. God, he was weak! He had
      not felt this way since he was rescued from Auschwitz over fifty
      years ago. Charles was immediately there, steadying him with a hand
      to his back.

      "Are you alright?" the telepath asked worriedly. If Erik fainted
      now, he would have to summon Jean here, whether Erik gave his
      consent or not.

      "Yes, I'm fine…" Erik murmured after a few seconds when the
      dizziness had passed. "Now I want to sleep…"

      "Would you like to have something to eat? I can have something
      brought up…"

      "No, just sleep."

      "Alright."

      They re-entered the bedchamber, and Charles pulled the bedspread
      away. The bed was a king-sized double bed, and despite living alone,
      Charles had kept the extra pillow and bed cover on Erik's old side.
      Erik himself could not figure out why.

      He would have liked to spend some time scrutinizing the room to see
      what Charles had changed since he moved out, but right now sleep was
      all he wanted. The sheets in the bed were beige and looked much more
      inviting than the sterile, white sheets at the prison. Gratefully he
      sank down between them, pulling the cover up to his chest. He almost
      dared not believe that he was safe. Laurio would not stand by his
      bed and leer at him with his evil pig's eyes when he woke up ever
      again. He would most certainly be in Erik's dreams, though, and that
      was a problem of its own.

      "Erik? Erik, my dear?" Erik opened his weary eyes and realized that
      he had almost fallen asleep already. Charles was sitting by the bed,
      looking at him and caressing his hair.

      "Yes…?" he murmured in reply.

      "I really need to examine your rectum. Will you be alright with
      that?"

      Erik wanted to object, but he also knew that Charles was right.
      Perhaps there was tearing and he needed penicillin? Still, the
      thought of Charles doing it was not as appalling as having Jean do
      the same. He swept back the covers and slowly spread his legs. The
      position made him feel very vulnerable, but he trusted Charles more
      than any other man and managed to keep himself calm.

      Charles coated his right index finger with some cortisone salve that
      would aid both the healing process and the entry. Erik's eyes were
      open, and he was looking straight up at the ceiling.

      "I will be quick. Just try to relax," the telepath said
      reassuringly, hoping that he could indeed be quick. If Erik had
      serious tearing, he would have to visit the med-lab right away.

      "It's alright, Charles. You can do it," Erik replied quietly.

      Charles smiled and squeezed his hand encouragingly before moving on
      to the task itself. Erik's anus was slightly swollen even on the
      outside, and it was not difficult to guess that he had been raped
      violently only days ago. "Alright. Let me know if it hurts too much."

      He then slowly eased his slick index finger half-way inside. Erik
      groaned faintly, but he did not fidget or cry out with pain, so
      Charles was hopeful about this examination. There was indeed
      tearing, old and new, but fortunately no active bleeding. Probably
      the injuries would heal by themselves in time, even though the scar
      tissue would remain. Despite knowing that he caused Erik pain, he
      moved his finger around, feeling every inch of the narrow channel.
      He had touched Erik in this fashion as a lover long ago, but now he
      did it as a doctor, and there was nothing arousing about it.

      Suddenly Erik gave out a shrill cry, and his whole body jerked up
      from the bed. Charles, believing that he had hurt his friend, pulled
      his finger out in shock. "Erik, I'm sorry!"

      Erik, now breathing heavily, shook his head. "No… It's just that
      you… brushed my prostate," he said.

      For the first time in the whole evening, Charles felt abashed. It
      had definitely not been his intention, as he did not want Erik to
      associate this examination with anything sexual. "I'm sorry, Erik,"
      he said truthfully. "But your rectum seems to be healing nicely. I
      doubt you'll need any antibiotics."

      Erik sighed with relief and slowly closed his legs, assuming that
      the examination was over. He then rolled onto his side and bent his
      knees. He was so tired. Perhaps a long night of undisturbed sleep
      would make him feel stronger.

      "Erik?" Charles asked again, placing his hand on his friend's meagre
      thigh and stroking it. "I have one more question for you."

      "Hmmm?"

      "This man who raped you… What do you know about him?"

      "Laurio?" Erik asked and shivered. "Not much… Big, late thirties,
      pig's eyes, sadistic… That's it. I don't even know his first name."

      "Did he…" Charles had to swallow before he could continue. "Did he
      use a condom when he raped you?"

      Erik started. "A condom? No, never. Charles… Do you… Do you think he
      may have given me HIV?" His voice was trembling now, and his heart
      rate had increased rapidly. Charles tried to give him a reassuring
      smile.

      "I'm sure he hasn't, but there are other sexually transmitted
      diseases, and the safest thing is to test you. I didn't mean to
      frighten you. I'm sorry about that, Erik."

      Erik felt tears coming to his eyes again. "I want to test myself!"
      he said. "As soon as possible!"

      "Tomorrow," Xavier promised. "Now I think you should sleep." He
      wheeled to the other side of the large bed and started undressing.
      He usually slept naked or wearing only briefs, but he was unsure of
      Erik's reaction if he would come into bed naked or nearly so. They
      had shared this bed before, but after months of continuous sexual
      abuse, Erik might be reluctant to sleep with a naked man beside him.

      Erik turned over to lie on his left side, so that he was able to
      regard his friend across the bed. He noticed Charles' hesitancy to
      disrobe and said, "It's alright. You can take your clothes off."

      Xavier complied, relieved that his presence did not revolt Erik. It
      was still hard to imagine that his former lover was now a rape
      victim. Poor Erik. Charles regretted not having pressured his friend
      to tell him what was wrong earlier. That way they could have stopped
      this nightmare long ago. Now Erik's spirit might be permanently
      scarred, and part of it was his fault, or so it felt. He lifted
      himself into bed with the help of his arms and pulled the covers up.
      Should he read something before going to sleep? Charles decided not
      to. He was tired as well, and besides it might disturb Erik.

      When he was about to turn off the lights, he noticed that Erik had
      still not pulled his bed covers back up. His grey eyes met Erik's
      hollow, blue ones. "Will you hold me while I sleep?" the other man
      asked sadly. He feared the constant nightmares and thought it might
      help to lie close to someone who cared about him.

      Charles opened his arms and lifted the edge of his quilt. "Of
      course, Erik, my dear. Come here. I was just afraid to ask you."

      Erik moved to lie in the curve of the telepath's body, his back
      pressing against Charles' chest. A strong, gentle arm wrapped around
      his waist, and he could feel Charles' warm breaths in his neck. His
      friend – and saviour – was naked as well. He could feel the crisp
      pubic hair and the flaccid member against the cleft between his
      buttocks. It did not unsettle him, because he knew that Charles
      would never hurt him.

      "Now sleep, my dear Erik…" Charles whispered in the darkness. "And
      wake me anytime if you're not feeling well."

      Erik's only reply was an unclear murmur, and soon after he was
      soundly asleep.

      *~*~*~*

      He had his first nightmare that very same night. 4:37 AM and woke up
      screaming, expecting to find himself in his bed at the plastic
      prison – a place where he had been as late as yesterday – with
      Laurio's heavy body pinning him to the mattress and the man's sticky
      arousal poking him between his buttocks.

      Charles calmed him, stroked his body and his hair, and kept him in a
      gentle embrace to let him know that he wasn't alone. His sobs died
      out slowly, and 5:21 he was able to slip back into sleep, this time
      with his head resting on Charles' chest.


      Epilogue

      After having supped in their joint bedchamber, Erik was weary and
      wanted to go to bed. Charles suggested that they watch TV for a
      while before going to sleep, but Erik did not feel inclined to watch
      a movie right now. He was having a "bad" day and hoped that a good
      night's sleep could rid him of that feeling, as it often did. Very
      seldom had he had two bad days in a row.

      Charles gave in, knowing that he should let Erik set the pace on a
      day like this. Hopefully tomorrow would be better. They undressed
      and crept into bed, even though it was only nine thirty in the
      evening. Xavier decided to read some before settling for sleep and
      reached under his bedside table where he kept the book he was
      currently reading. It was non-fiction literature from Reader's
      Digest concerning paranormal activities. Erik lay beside him, turned
      towards him with his eyes open, despite the fact that Charles had
      told him to turn away if the light bothered him. After a while it
      began to bother Charles instead, and he found himself unable to
      concentrate on his reading. He put the book away and instead gave
      Erik his undivided attention.

      "Erik, what is wrong?" he asked concernedly. When he received no
      answer, he opened his arms and beckoned to Erik to come. His friend
      slowly moved into his embrace and snuggled close to his chest.
      Charles kissed the top of the grey head.

      "Your state of mind saddens me," the telepath confessed. "If there
      is anything I can do to make you feel better…"

      Erik sighed softly and made a motion probably supposed to represent
      a shrug. "You are very kind, Charles, really, but I don't think…"

      "Do you think about him much… Laurio?"

      "Among other things."

      "He can't get to you now. You are safe here," Charles tried, but he
      knew that his words sounded empty in Erik's ears.

      "I know."

      Charles put his finger under Erik's chin and tilted his head up. He
      then kissed his old friend's lips, and although Erik returned the
      kiss, he kind of did it without enthusiasm. Xavier stroked Erik's
      back and shoulders and reached down to caress the other man's
      flaccid penis. Erik sighed heavily against his chest.

      "Don't touch my penis… It's disgusting…"

      "No, Erik, it is not disgusting," Charles replied firmly. "No part
      of you is. I love touching you everywhere. You should know that."

      Charles knew what this was about. They had tried to have sex a few
      times in the past year, but Erik had been unable to get a proper
      erection every time, so none of their attempts had been successful.
      The telepath had really tried everything: oral sex, masturbation,
      prostate stimulation… Erik got half-hard, but there it stopped. He
      had even persuaded Erik to visit an urologist, and the doctor had
      said that there were no physical impediments to getting an erection.
      It was all in Erik's psyche.

      Erik had started to hate himself and his own body. He was angry with
      himself because he had let Laurio destroy him, but at the same time
      he was filled with self-pity. He remembered ironically that he had
      had his last, real erection over 18 months ago, just before Laurio
      raped him both with his own flesh and a plastic truncheon.

      Charles fondled the soft flesh between Erik's legs, hoping to
      provoke some kind of reaction, but there was none. Only a very
      slight swelling due to the physical stimulation but nothing more.
      Erik finally pushed his hand away and said, his voice racked by
      sobs, "Stop! It's humiliating! I can't get aroused, no matter what
      we try. You should know that after all this time. If you want to, I
      can still suck you or take you in my hand…"

      "No, no, Erik," Xavier interrupted him. "I won't impose on you like
      that. Sex is for both parts to enjoy. Never forget that."

      "I want to, Charles. I really do," Erik claimed, and he did. "I want
      to make love to you. I hate to think that the bastard ruined me like
      this, but I suppose that he did. I… I don't know what to do
      anymore…" Now the sobs had taken over Erik's voice
      completely. "There are days when… when I hate life so much that I
      think it's not worth living… I don't want to die either, but…"

      What he heard now confirmed Charles' fears. Erik had indeed had
      suicidal thoughts. It frightened him, because he knew that not even
      he could keep a check on his friend 24 hours a day. If Erik sometime
      thought that life was not worth living when he wasn't around, then…

      "There is another possibility, Erik, but I have not mentioned it to
      you before, because it is so drastic," he said in a slow and serious
      voice, even now hesitant to propose it to Erik, but things could
      simply not continue like this. He was the only one who could help
      his friend now.

      "What?" Erik asked with little interest.

      "I can tell you, but it is not something you should consider
      lightly. Are you listening?" Erik nodded mutely. "I could try to
      enter your mind and remove all your memories from this time. If it
      succeeds, it would be as though it never happened. You would have no
      memories of the prison, Laurio, the molestation, or anything
      connected to it. Believe me, Erik, it is not something I want to do,
      but if you truly cannot live with the memories… then maybe…"

      "Do it!" Erik said immediately, and his weak, right hand gripped
      Charles' arm with renewed strength. "I want you to do it, Charles. I
      really do. Pl… please remove my memories… I want nothing rather than
      that."

      Charles had expected some kind of reaction, good or bad, but he had
      not expected Erik to agree to it so quickly. "Erik, do you know what
      it means?" he asked. "I know how you feel, but…"

      "You don't know how I feel!" Erik spat out vehemently. "Every waking
      moment I think of<br/><br/>(Message over 64 KB, truncated)
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.