Cut My Wings

This is a non-consensual gay erotic story, all characters are 18 or over.

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Chase had never thought breaking into his own house would be so stupidly difficult— but apparently, ingesting copious amounts of stollen alcohol beforehand really didn't make things very easy.

He had only just managed to crack open the side window and slide his torso through, before something large and unyielding suddenly grasped the collar of his shirt and yanked him through the windowsill.

He fell hard to the ground, hitting his chin on the corner of something sharp as he tried to roll away from what had grabbed him, only for a strong hand to wind into his hair and drag him back, pain instantly shooting through his scalp.

"Ow, ow, f-fuck! Please!"

He slurred, his panicked words somehow blending with the drunken haze he was trapped in, making the world around him spin on its axis, leaving him dizzy and nauseous.

"I hope for your sake that you aren't fucking drunk right now, boy."

Chase's eyes widened, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as he recognised the deep voice booming above him, the rough squeeze of the cruel hand still twisted in his hair.

Everything hurt, but in that moment, every inch of him went numb.

Hudson.

"What did I tell you, huh? I told you not to try that shit while you're under my fucking roof, remember?"

Chase flinched at the tone in his voice, the bitter and unfamiliar coldness that underlined every word.

He had never seen Hudson this angry before, no matter how hard he had tried in the past to get on his nerves. The man was like a brick wall. Impenetrable.

"I didn't do it under your roof."

Chase muttered, only to cry out when Hudson tightened his grip in his hair.

"Don't get smart with me, boy. I'm not in the mood."

He finally, mercifully let Chase go, letting him drop to the floor in a heap, with Chase clutching at his burning scalp as he glared up at Hudso.

"What's the big deal? I'm 18, it's basically legal to drink in most places now and—"

"Does it look like I give a shit about any of that? I told you the rules and you broke them. Big time."

Chase flinched at the look in Hudson's eyes, only to finally rein himself in when he realised what he was doing. He wouldn't let Hudson treat him this way. The bastard had no right.

"So, what are you going to do? Huh? Just kick me out then. I'm an adult now, I don't need to listen to you, I don't need to stay in this shithole anymore and you don't get to—"

Pain shot through Chase's cheek— the sudden and unexpected impact of Hudson's hand across his face, snapping his head to the side, left him gasping. He pressed a shakey hand to his stinging cheek, the shock of it all leaving him wide-eyed and shivering. No one had ever slapped him before.

Hudson watched him from above, a strange shadow passing over his face before he finally leaned down, capturing Chase by the back of his neck when he went to move away from him. He was close to his ear, his hot breath ghosting over his flesh.

"I promised your mother that I would take care of you after she was gone, and that's what I've done. I've put up with your shit these past few years, I've kept you housed, kept you fed, made sure you turned into a halfway decent human being— all for her. I'm done now."

There was an eerie pause before he spoke again, and when he did, all the blood drained from Chase's face.

"You're right. You're an adult now, so I'm going to treat you like one."

He lunged for him then, and Chase choked on a sudden panicked scream that Hudson quickly muffled behind his large hand, silencing Chase's terror and cutting off his air.

He picked him up as if he weighed nothing and he threw him belly first over the nearby dining table, exhibiting a strength Chase had never witnessed first-hand before.

He felt the wood underneath him, cold and disarming, felt the edge of it biting into his hips. It hurt. Everything hurt.

He could feel Hudson's hard body behind him. Felt his heat invading his skin.

Chase hadn't sat at this table in years, choosing instead to take his food into his room or eat on the couch in front of the TV. It had just felt... wrong, to do it without her. He couldn't bare the thought of pulling up a chair and finding her's empty in front of him.

He remembered vaguely what it felt like, to sit at the table with his mother on one side and Hudson on the other. They had been happy then, even if Chase hadn't realised it at the time. He had never liked Hudson as his mother's boyfriend, and liked him even less as her husband... but he hadn't been so bad then, not really.

Hudson was different now.

Perhaps it was his mother's death, that had changed his stepfather into the man he was today... or maybe... maybe it was Chase who was responsible for that.

He had given the man hell for years after she had passed, had tortured him in anyway he possibly could in his unwavering grief. It wasn't Hudson's fault, but he blamed him for her being gone. Blamed him for everything.

"You want to throw your life away? Wanna waste every opportunity to get the future she wanted for you— to what? Become some street brat hopped up on coke, selling your ass for the next high?"

Chase's eyes widened when he felt his pants being roughly tugged down, his underwear coming next so that the calloused hand behind him was now pressed up against his bare skin.

"I can give you a nice taste of the life you want so badly."

Chase screamed into the table when the first smack came, leaving him reeling into the cool wood pressed hard against his aching cheek.

He wished he had eaten at the table more. Maybe he could have felt closer to her, maybe he could have—

Another hard slap vibrated against his naked ass, sending a wave of heat over his burning flesh— then another, and another, until Chase lost count of each painful blow.

Hudson was showing him no mercy, no care for his messy sobs echoing off the table as he whimpered at every hit. He had never been spanked in his life, not even as a child. His mother wouldn't do that to him.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

There seemed to be no end in sight, and each heavy blow had him rocking back and forth with the strength of it. The hits melded together— to such a point where each one echoed the last, so that Chase didn't even realise Hudson had finally stopped, still feeling the last hit like a lingering shadow.

The first rough finger that breached him had him howling, renewed fight flowing through his limbs when his sheltered mind finally realised what was happening. That something was inside of him.

It didn't matter though, no amount of frantic flailing could stop his stepfather, nothing could halt the thrusting intrusion from splitting him open.

"...no, no, n-no, god, please, no..."

Chase chanted, his words just a mesh of tears and whimpers. He didn't even think they resembled words at that point, they were just sounds. Pathetic, whimpering sounds.

Chase remembered how he had touched himself down there once, a long time ago, falling to the urge to explore himself further. He hadn't hated it, but it felt... strange. He had even wondered what it would feel like to have someone else touch him there, to feel gentle, reassuring hands glide over his skin and press into him slowly.

This was not like that at all. This felt like an invasion into his very soul.

He felt something blunt press against his hole then, something big— and that was all the warning he got before he was screaming into his fists, body convulsing as Hudson's cock shoved into him in one brutal thrust.

He was impaled, split open, ruined. He felt raw, as if with that one cruel movement Hudson had torn him open and turned him inside out. Body and soul.

Hudson grunted and paused, as if he too was in pain, arms wrapping around Chase's shoulders and just holding him there. It could almost be mistaken as an embrace, if it wasn't for his huge cock shoved deep inside of Chase, stretching his virgin hole impossibly, hideously wide.

When Hudson began to move, Chase let out a broken sob, his body rocking with every thrust, feeling the thing inside of him press deeper and deeper into his core with every move, as if each thrust opened him just a little more each time.

He just felt... raw.

Hudson took him fast and rough, panting in his ear and grinding into him at a pace that made it impossible for Chase to just float away. He felt every second, every inch that pushed inside of him. He was undeniably present.

He felt Hudson speed up, his breath coming fast as he pulled Chase in closer, almost strangling him in the tight hold, slamming into him over and over again until finally, finally, Chase felt a sudden warmth in his belly— felt Hudson's hips stutter out of rhythm before he released a low groan.

It was over.

Hudson slumped over him, his heavy weight suffocating and hot. There was only a moment of silence between them before Hudson moved off of him, his thick cock sliding out of his wrecked hole and leaving him feeling strangely... empty.

Chase winced when he felt the cold air on his backside, felt something wet and hot trickle down his trembling thighs.

"I'm... cold."

Chase whispered, and even as he said it, he didn't know where the words had come from. He didn't mean to speak, didn't even realise his lips were moving until he heard himself— his own voice somehow unfamiliar to his own ears.

Chase sounded just as he felt.

Broken.

Hudson stood still behind him, just the mere presence of him too heavy and stifling to be ignored.

His stepfather didn't speak, he just wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into his chest. Chase wanted to fight it, wanted to scream at him and cry and ask him why he did this to him, why he... why? But he didn't. He just sunk into the hold, resting his cheek against Hudson's chest, feeling the steady thump of a heart just beneath his ear.

Hudson took him to the bathroom, stripped him and pushed him into the shower. The water was warm, running down his skin and soothing each and every ache. He stood there as Hudson washed him, blinking slowly under the stream of water, feeling firm fingers graze over his body and wash him clean again. If he ever even was to begin with.

Chase whimpered when he felt Hudson wash between his legs, sucking in a slow breath at the accompanying burn. It was quick, but it was enough to penetrate the strange numb that had slowly settled over him.

"I hate you."

He whispered, tears easily shielded by the running shower. Hudson didn't stop his task, his shirt now soaked and hair wet and limp over his eyes. He looked at Chase, really looked at him, hard eyes holding his gaze. He just nodded, finally reaching over to the taps and turning off the water.

Chase shivered.

"I know."

They didn't speak anymore after that, and Hudson wrapped him in a towel and carried Chase to his bed.

His skin was still damp, so when Hudson pulled the blankets back and tucked him in, he felt the sheets stick to him. He grimaced, curling into himself and tucking his knees into his chest.

He used to do that a lot as a child, after his mother had put him to bed. She would lay down beside him most nights, stroking his hair and whispering tales of daring princes and fierce dragons.

He had wondered if he could ever be that brave.

"I miss her."

He found himself saying, watching Hudson pause on his way out the door, his stepfather's eyes drifting to the ceiling for just a moment before he gave a short nod.

"I know."

He left after that, leaving the door slightly ajar, just as his mother had done when she had left him, incase he ever woke up from a nightmare and needed to crawl into her bed.

He closed his eyes. And slept.

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I hope you enjoyed this story, please feel free to leave a comment, I read and appreciate them all. Also feel free to leave any ideas/requests for future works, I can't promise I'll be able to write it but if I feel inspired I just might. Thanks :)