*This is a fictional story about taboo topics like non-con. All characters are 18 or older. Avoid this story if you do not enjoy taboo content.*

Their guitars clashed on stage, but it was the searing kiss that Santiago and Peter shared in the dark alley behind the club that set their bodies and souls ablaze. Perhaps it was that same kiss that sent Santiago into a destructive rage, a trajectory that neither of the young musicians saw coming.

The underground club scene took its’ time accepting Peter into the community. While Santiago had no trouble fitting into the harsh nightlife, countless times Peter dodged insults like “This isn’t the gay club, twink!” or “Oh look, he’s ready for the fuck fest.” As much as he tried to hide it, his subtly flamboyant body language revealed his preferences.

Santiago leaned against the wall of the club, grabbing his cock in one hand and Peter’s face in his other. Peter, unable to gain the courage to look up at him, simply stared at the veins in his neck, watching the way Santiago’s chest caved with each dramatic exhale.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Santiago teased breathlessly, grinding into Peter’s slim frame subtly. Peter hesitated, missing his opportunity to speak as the kitchen door swung open. Two cooks lit their cigarettes as Peter awkwardly jerked away from Santiago.

“Have you seen Santiago?” Peter ducked into the dark corner of a booth, wedging himself in between the rest of his bandmates, his rosy cheeks visible even in the dim light.

It had been a week of dodging his presence, careful not to enter a club where he was performing. Despite his success thus far, he couldn’t help but peak over his shoulder day and night, adamant that Santiago was hunting him.

Didn’t you like it? The question rattled through his head incessantly. Of course, he liked the way Santiago led him outside that night, the way he slammed him against the wall. He remembered the brief moments when his bulge brushed against Peter’s leg.

“Nobody is coming after you,” his friend joked, “RELAX!” The band threw back shots… One by one, Peter gulped it down, finally avoiding the thought of Santiago’s tall dark body against him.

He had accepted the fact that it would go no further between them… Despite Peter not fully accepting his own sexuality, he was adamant to wait until marriage… and Santiago did not scream marriage material.

Peter and his drummer took their fourth shot as a familiar voice sent hot flashes down Peter’s body.

“Next round is on me,” Santiago spanked Peter’s ass, greeting his oblivious bandmates as he waved the bartender over. The sting lingered on Peter’s ass as he drunkenly watched Santiago order.

“Petey was just asking where you were! Glad you could make it,” Matteo yelled over the egregious band playing.

“Oh were you asking about me?” Peter recognized that same taunting tone. He gulped his water, avoiding eye contact again. “That’s great! I actually need to borrow you for a minute. I found those speakers you’ve wanted. I have three of them but I will have all six on Tuesday.” Santiago grabbed Peter’s arm and led him outside, an experience all too familiar to him. But he had been searching for those speakers for months. How bad could it be? He reasoned with himself, acknowledging the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of them kissing again.

“The brand new ones are in the back seat… but check these out!” Santiago opened his car, showing Peter a trunk full of equipment. Somehow, this simple act eased Peter. After all, they had bonded over music way before they swapped spit. He stumbled on his words as they passionately spoke about the gear.

Peter made his way to the side door, bending over the seat to get his speakers from the floor. He hadn’t noticed Santiago follow closely behind until Peter rose to his feet. Santiago pushed into Peter’s small frame again, lining his hard cock up with his tight jeans.

“What-” Peter backed away slowly, staring down at Santiago’s hips thrust toward him.

“Oh sorry, was that too close?” Santiago smirked, grabbing Peter’s throat as he slipped a finger inside of his mouth. His sudden movements made it impossible for Peter to understand what was happening; It took him several seconds to realize Santiago was playing with his tongue.

With minimal effort, Santiago plugged Peter’s nose and lowered him to the ground. He gasped for air, drooling as his body fought against him.

“That’s it… Wide open mouth… good fucking fa-,” Santiago snapped his belt off, peering from side to side to make sure nobody was around. Peter took the opportunity to wipe the tears from his cheek, oblivious to how wet his mouth and chin had already become.

Was he about to say faggot? Surely not, the thought lingered in Peter’s mind for a moment, but there were more pressing issues. Santiago’s callused fingers gripped Peter’s blonde hair as he guided himself into his frantic mouth. His tip clashed against Peter’s teeth as he protested.

“Please,” every other word he muttered was muffled, but his desperation was palpable. “Please- The other night was fun but!” Santiago’s cock choked him, blurring his vision from the sudden onset of tears.

In the pale moonlight, Santiago’s girth had been a mystery. The tall, Latin god shoved his thick cock into Peter’s mouth, plugging his nose every so often just to hear his struggle. He violently thrashed into his friend’s open mouth, backing him against the car with each thrust. Had he not noticed the tears? His cock dripped from saliva as Santiago taunted Peter’s performance.

“Fuck, right there…” He held Peter by the back of the neck, pushing his nose against him as Peter’s body convulsed violently. The cum came quicker than he expected. For a fleeting moment, pride filled him as he wondered how long it took him to finish.

Suddenly, the parking lot streetlight made Santiago’s face visible. The pride diminished, quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of danger. “Please, just not my hole…” The cum poured out of his mouth as he spoke.

Fuck! Why did I even say that? Santiago’s entire demeanor changed as he uttered those words.

“Don’t worry…” he rubbed Peter’s head, a weak attempt to comfort him. But the gentle pat turned to a violent grip on his arm, flipping him on his stomach in the backseat. It happened too fast for Peter to react; his limp body flailed onto the leather as Santiago pulled him back by the belt loops.

“No, please I said NOT MY HOLE!” The echo of his own voice startled him. He wondered if anybody heard, but Santiago’s body weight distracted him from his inevitable fate. He hadn’t noticed the way his own words betrayed him as he sobbed, feeling the winter air on his ass as Santiago undressed him.

“Just… the tip,” Santiago exhaled, forcing Peter’s hands to spread his own ass apart. His muffled sobs and random moments of fighting against his perpetrator only enticed Santiago more. Each time Peter bucked his hips back and begged for mercy, Santiago bent down and licked up his tears, moaning in his ear as he finally pressed his cock inside of him.

“Look at that!” Santiago laughed. “It’s not even really hard yet… look at that hole take it…” But of course, Peter couldn’t see a thing beyond the black abyss of Santiago’s car. He cried harder, desperately trying to crawl to the other side of the car.

“Enough Santi… please.”

“Look at him, papi…” Suddenly, heat ran through Peter’s body. Who is he talking to? The front door slammed as someone sat in the passenger seat, turning to face Peter as cars pulled in and out of the parking lot. He sensed the man’s presence, but the shock prevented him from opening his eyes. How could Santiago let a stranger violate him like that? How could Santiago violate Peter himself?

He cried out in an overwhelming yelp as his eyes met the man in the front. His drummer… The one who had gotten him drunk less than an hour before. If Peter hadn’t sobered up by then, he had now.

“How could you?!” His voice cracked like he was suffering from puberty again. Although, nobody knew exactly who he was addressing. Perhaps it was the rapist filling his hole with his slimy cock, his best friend whom he had started a band with six years prior, or himself for not having enough fight in him.

His best friend reached into the backseat, sticking a drumstick in between his lips as his gags echoed in the car. He replaced the drumstick with three fingers, circling Peter’s tongue before shoving them down his throat. As Peter coughed and gagged, Santiago came inside of him, grunting into his ear as he finished. Peter lay helplessly in a puddle of his own spit as the other men joked and chuckled, degrading his frail body as Santiago stood outside of the car, adjusting his clothes.

“Get out,” Santiago demanded. Peter fumbled for his clothing, eager to escape as quickly as possible.

“NOT YOU,” Santiago boomed, chuckling as he jumped in fear. The car door slammed and the two men were left alone once again. Peter shivered involuntarily, never having noticed he had already come in his pants himself.

Peter lay in the backseat, helpless and anxious about what might happen next. Santiago silently climbed into the driver’s seat, calmly driving as the two reveled in silence. Peter moaned or cried every so often, unaware of where Santiago could possibly be taking him.

“Okay, we are here…” Santiago smirked, his changed tone more comforting than before. He watched as Peter slithered his way up, looking out the window at the giant church in front of him. “Go! Be free. Repent for what you did…”

Peter grabbed the handlebar and fell out of the car, rising to his feet slowly as Santiago waved goodbye. “I’ll be seeing you real soon!” But his words did not register with Peter.

He stared up at the stained church windows, the same church where his father had been a Pastor for 20 years. Yet, Santiago couldn’t have known that. The violation consumed Peter as he ran as far from the church as he could, feeling the true effect of Santiago’s girth.

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