Bad Wakeup

Hank was sore as hell when he woke up. Not the first time he'd ever woken up in pain, but not like this. He gingerly tried slipping his covers off, and succeeded on the third attempt.

His thighs were covered with welts and small red blotches. He was sure he'd find more of the same when he took his shirt off. Hank tried to sit up, but wound up screaming instead. His balls and ass felt like someone had taken a bat to them. He slipped his hand down his underwear; his sack was swollen double-sized and he knew his asshole wasn't doing any better.

"What the fuck happened to me?"

There wasn't anyone there to answer due to the recent breakup. Unless he'd been attacked inside the apartment. Crap crap crap. He needed to be sure.

It wasn't the fastest search of an apartment. He'd kept his thighs as spread apart as possible while he walked. It had helped a little. The living room stank. Burnt plastic mingled with something unsavory and organic. Not good. He spotted something silver in the fireplace. It was a burnt compact disc set in a pile of various ashes.

When did all this get burnt?

He sat on the couch and flipped on the television. Something about the disk seemed familiar, but it took him several minutes to associate the pink writing with his ex-girlfriend, Juliet. She tended to use pink for everything, but he didn't think she had ever made a cd.

He had a vague memory of talking to her this morning. It must be a dream, he hadn't seen her in days. He should have remembered seeing her if it was a dream though. He'd always preferred her body rather than her speaking. Had she been here this morning? It didn't seem possible that she would have been here already on a Saturday, much less last… the football game on the television wasn't a college game.
What the hell! He jumped up ignoring the pains in his body. Hank touched his face. It was definitely more than a days worth of stubble. What happened to Saturday? Think stupid… you drank on Friday. I know I talked to her, but we didn't fuck… I think.

He was sure she hadn't been here, so why did he have her CD? Hank spotted something else out of place in the room; his tablet was in the entertainment center. That was something he'd never do. He hoped for answers as he hobbled back to the couch with the computer.

He remembered the mix disc now. It had been a bunch of slow electronic stuff, but her voice was there. Things went dim when she spoke to him. He searched through his tablet for some indication what it had been used for, and found a new bookmark in his browser.

It went to a special movie on a tube site. Hank saw his own face grinning moronically back at him from the film.
Motherfucker. Movie Hank adjusted his headphones and backed away from the camera to the couch.
This was followed by greasing up a huge, red dildo until it gleamed. Hank groaned. He'd never seen the toy before, but already knew what came next. It was shocking how easily Movie Hank squatted onto the dildo and slid what had to be ten inches of plastic into his ass. Movie Hank moaned joyously as he shimmied and ground on the toy.

Movie Hank had inflicted all of the injuries Hank currently endured. Wooden spoons, a belt, and even candles left their marks to an accompaniment of Movie Hanks sluttish moans and whimpers. Movie Hank maintained the brutality for a long stretch, then settled into masturbating and punching himself in the balls. The sound of each blow echoed off the walls.

Hank almost threw up. It was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen, and God only knew how many other people were watching what Juliet had done to him. His life was ruined: he stroked his erection. His cock was still sore from Movie Hank's actions, but the pain mingled effortlessly with the soft stroking. The steady ooze of precum made the rubbing so nice.

In Hank's weary condition, it took only a few minutes before he covered his hand and the inside of his underwear in cum. He absentmindedly brought his hand to his mouth and licked the sour fluid off, an action mirrored by Movie Hank licking the largest cumshot Hank had ever seen off the coffee table.

He didn't have the faintest idea what the password was, or how to get it taken off the tube site. That could be rectified, but his biggest regret was that she'd never been anything like this when they were together.