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The Terrible broom Cabinet Fic	By : varenoea Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 1840 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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I do not own or know any members or musicians of Rammstein. Everything in this story (and all following chapters) is a big fat lie.
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Where am I now?

Oh right. This was the first time I tried opiate.

I’m feeling so misty. Everything is in a grey haze, I don’t feel my body. I couldn’t even locate my own right hand.

But my senses are twice or thrice as sharp as usually. I hear my own breath, feel my own heartbeat, hear sounds from outside although I know I’m here in a little room under the stairs. The air tastes of thousands of different things and streams into my lungs in seemingly huge draws.

I try to giggle, just to prove to myself that I’m still able to. But nothing comes out. It’s strange. I feel my lungs breathing, my ribcage moving, but like it’s someone else’s. I can’t even control a single muscle. I can’t even control when I blink. My body does it for me. The ceiling up there is all I can see.

Remember: I went into this wardrobe so I wouldn’t do anything goofy and spoil the party. I was sleepy from the dope, and in here nobody would disturb me. Apart from that there was a nice soft heap of clothes stacks, which now form a sort of nest around my body.

I’m halfway conscious now. Only my body doesn’t know yet.

“Till?” The door creaks, I see the top of it moving at the margin of my focus. “What are you… Till?” It’s Flake. His face, looking distorted and konvex, comes into focus. He calls my name once again, then waves a hand in front of my face.

I CAN’T DO A THING.

“Are you okay?” he asks, worried, closes the door, puts down his jacket and leans over me. He sees I’m still breathing, checks my pulse, sniffs at my face and looks disgusted. Then he grins sympathetically. “Poor bugger. Hope you dream something nice.”

He sits down between my legs and looks me up and down. Then he suddenly grins again and, still not letting my face out of focus, pulls my belt open.

Damn him. He’s got quite a sick sense of humour, I wish I could move. But I can’t, I’m still in this grey fog, I can’t even see or hear properly. But very sharp.

He opens my pants, pulls them down, then pulls my underpants down too, and grins and chuckles at my limp cock.

Oh, damn him. I’m gonna kill him, that fuckhead. He thinks I don’t notice. What a surprise when I come to. I’ll say something very ironical to him about this.

He would tie a ribbon around my cock and then act innocent when I come around, letting me wonder who did this. That’s the kind of thing he would do.

Very soft, wet touches start me out of my thoughts. We’ve seen each other naked before, I don’t mind grabbing his naked arse for the shows. But Flake kissing my cock- that feels sick. This is definitely going wrong.

But I can’t move. He kisses my cock, my balls, and to my absolute discomfort I feel the blood rushing down there as his wet lips run over my gland I’m getting a fully-grown hard-on – through being sucked by a man! Proves once again how very physical the male body reacts to some things.

Flake smiles all over his face about the results of his assaults. He gets up and locks the door. He returns and sits down between my legs once more before he suddenly leaps over me, opens my shirt in a hurry and kisses frantically all over my chest, belly, and neck. His hands grab my shoulders firmly, fingertips almost boring into the skin.

He looks up, right into my face, completely flushed and breathing heavily with arousal.

He can’t be that excited through a little kissing, it shoots through my brain. What excites him is that he is doing something forbidden. Something new. For the first time.

I concentrate, try to gather all my strength, to shove him off- or at least to speak. But nothing. I’m somewhere beside me.

What am I going to do about this tomorrow? Am I going to beat him up? Or be silent, pretending it didn’t happen?

Now I feel his boner pressing into my crotch. Inside I freeze with dismay. I can’ put up a fight. I can’t defend myself- NO MATTER what he is doing.

“Uh”, he moans. “Oh dear…hh…” He grabs my pants and struggles to pull them down, and my briefs with them, and the socks finally.

I’m naked. Literally naked. The open shirt doesn’t count. Spread out on the blanket. This is a nightmare.

Flake wouldn’t do that, ever. It must be the opiate. But I feel his fingers as he runs his hands down my thighs, and up over my hips, biting his lip reverently. His eyelids are half-closed, he is panting, and his blue gaze is misty. With the blush, he looks almost sweet, my mind observes, while I scream with rage on the inside.

“Okay, baby”, he whispers, gets up and pulls the striped pullover over his head. Then he leans back over me, and I realise with a fright that his pants are open. I see white briefs, and I can make out a firm swollen shape underneath.

WHAT is he going to do with me?!

I need to scream. I want to. With all my willpower. It’s no use. I’ll have to see through this, I realise. For good or bad. There is simply no other possibility.

His pants slide down once the belt is open, and he struggles to get rid of them. Now he’s kneeling between my legs, only in his briefs, gulping harder and harder with excitement. His breath is going more and more ragged every minute. I hope he’s going to have a heart attack.

His shaking hands stroke my belly. “Don’t worry, babe… I don’t want to hurt you. Not at all.”
My intellect is switched out with fear.

Flake looks down and grabs his pants. From one pocket he produces a condom.

No.

Not this.

Please.

I don’t want to be fucked.

Shaking, he lies the condom down on my belly. He bends over and lifts his jacket up from the floor, rummaging in one of the big side pockets. “There it is….” He holds a little plastic bottle in one hand. And I fear I know what it is. But then, I pray that it is what I think it is.

He sinks down on me, his briefs against my hip, and I feel his hard-on press into my belly. The condom package scratches between our bodies. He rubs his nose along my neck, giving me little nudges and inhaling my smell. Then his lips brush my cheek and then my own lips. They softly start to play and tug.

Flake lifts his head and moistens his lips, then he gets down and starts smooching passionately. I feel his empty movements against my mouth, his tongue sneaking inside bit by bit and playing with mine.

This is a nightmare.

Panting, he gets up in his elbows and looks down at me with a desperate, loving smile. He strokes the hair out of my face, brushes my chin, and gets up. His briefs have a wet spot on the front, and he pulls them down.

Oh my god. I wish I could look away. But I can’t. my gaze is fixed. His cock. Firm. Red. Undeniable. Looking strange and ugly. WANTING something.

He tears the little package open and takes the slippery thing out. Skilfully rolls it over his cock. Then he leans back over me.

“Don’t worry, little”, he murmurs, “it’s not gonna hurt. I’ll be real careful.” He kisses my chest, licks my nipples shortly, and then shyly grabs my thighs.

Getting bolder, he shoves them up and parts them as far as he can.

I don’t want him to see this. This is too intimate. Well, he has been getting to intimate at me for quite a while, but this is going too far. I feel so helpless. So goddamn helpless. I just want him to go away. To stop looking at me there.

He gives a little moan. “Baby…”

He unscrews the bottle, drops an considerable amount into his hand and rubs it onto the rubbery surface of his cock. He lifts one of my legs and squeezes another amount of lube into his palm. With two fingers, he takes almost all of it and – the coldness of his touch would make me wince if I could. I don’t want this. He can’t touch me there! I have the right to forbid him. He must know that I don’t want this.

It hurts like hell, but not outwardly.

He smears the lube onto the opening, not pressing in, just gently rubbing it on.
His face is all flushed as he hitches my legs up and lifts them over his shoulders. I feel so… accessible. So humiliated. Flake bends down to give me a last kiss, and grabs towards the direction where our most intimate areas are almost touching. “’kay, baby”, he whispers once more. “I won’t hurt you.”

Something slides along my thigh and stops at the dimple in between.

NO. NO, PLEASE!

His shaking hand steadies his cock as he starts to press it into the firm muscles. It won’t work at all, finally. That cock can’t get through these muscles. They won’t let it in at all.

Strange, strange dry soreness as they give in. I had expected it to hurt everywhere, but it does only at the spots where the skin gets broken in the stretching process. Flake moans, overwhelmed, and shakes so much he has almost as little control over his movements as I do.

He holds still, only the first inch inside, sweat already forming on his forehead, and looks at me so full of bad conscience, happiness, sympathy and love as I’ve never seen anybody before.

“Oh my God”, he whispers, his voice breaking, and almost breaks my legs too as me bends forward to kiss me once more.

Very, very slowly he moves forward, into me, in tiny little bits, managing to avoid any obstacle.
“See?” he whispers. “See? It doesn’t hurt at all.”

But it does. It hurts so much I could scream. I’m totally cramped with fear anyway, and he keeps reaming me up. I’ve never been opened so wide. I keep breathing and blinking, unmoving, but the pain inside is burning, and the deeper he gets, the deeper it hurts. It’s INSIDE MY BODY. I can’t do anything to stop it. He’s tearing me up on the inside.

Suddenly he stops, and I feel his hipbones against my arse. I’m full. Full of burning cock.
It feels like it’ll never feel the same after this. It can’t. He must be injuring me so bad that there must be damage.

Can you stitch this up? Can this be mended somehow? Can you bandage this?

“Hh…. Oh God…. Oh God…” He shakes his head, and his hands wander from my legs to my hips, holding gently and stroking. He leans forward again and plays with my lower lip.

Then he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, almost involuntarily, spasmodically. Once more, Once again. And then he starts to really fuck.

Pain.

Every hit into the sensitive soft insides burns sharply. The entrance feels dry and sore already. Flake moans and whimpers in blind happiness, and his hand grabs my still erect cock and starts to pump. But nothing doing. This can’t excite me, not now, not despite the hurt he forces on me.

“So… so… tight…” The soft, almost chaste kisses he breathes onto my mouth and the soft stroking of his hands on my hips are a crass contrast to the biting thrusts into me.

Somewhere inside, a dull feeling starts to spread. I just haven’t noticed so far. My prostrate. Oh God. No. I don’t want to feel anything while I go through this. But it’s there, and it gets stronger very slowly. My cock is dripping already. Flake’s hands, keeping exactly the rhythm of the pushes. It’s all so synchronised. It leaves me no other choice. My whole abdomen is being shaken by that rhythm. I can’t make a clear thought at all anyway. Through my opiate-fogged brain race his words: So… so… tight. I feel his cock. I feel the relentless rhythm through me, pain running up my spine, but I feel his thrusts vibrating and strengthening the feeling in my own cock, and his hand is really damn skilful. I see his face over me, flushed and totally aroused, and suddenly it strikes me that he looks somewhat cute and sexy when he is like this. The smell of sex and excitement surrounds me. I feel my own cock leaking, that traitor.

I don’t want to. I don’t want this. I want this to stop. But then his hand suddenly gets the right angle, and I know I’ve lost. That’s it. There’s the rush.

My stomach muscles move involuntarily, blood rushes down and fills my cock until it is rock hard. Oh God. My face feels hot and flushed.

It still hurts. But the pain is only a stimulating stinging, my prostrate is pushed and pushed, and I flow down, every sense down, into the rhythm, and I come, I don’t feel anything else but the fucking and the pumping. My muscles convulse around his dick in the spasms that shake my whole abdomen, and it hurts. It hurts so intensely. Flake moans with fright as he suddenly feels this vice close around his cock. But then he moans once again, unable to keep it back, and twitches inside me, still pushing. I’m still coming. Still squirting. But then I lie still.

Flake swallows and pulls out painfully. “Oh God… Oh my God…. Baby, you’re bleeding…” He rolls the condom from his slowly wilting cock, skilfully turning the inside out and catching the semen with a handkerchief. He gets dressed and looks down at me regretfully. Then he kneels between my legs again and lifts one leg up to clean me of the sticky lube, still distributed between my cheeks, and he gently dabs the blood away.

“I just hope it won’t hurt tomorrow”, he murmurs.

Why should it? It does sufficiently today.

This will never heal. It can’t.

Flake starts to clean my belly of my own sperm and get me dressed again. Lovingly he closes the buttons of my trousers and shirt one by one. He looks down on me with a sigh and the strangest smile I’ve ever seen, wiping my hair out of my face again.

“Hmmm.” Thoughtfully, he takes a blanket and unfolds it to cover me up to my chin. “You’re gonna be cold, lying there like this.”

With a last stroking over my hand, he gets up and unlocks the door. “I’m gonna leave the door open, so they don’t forget you in here”, he says and is gone.

Light comes in from the outside, and noise from the party downstairs. But I’m alone. I also want to be alone. Comatose on the outside, on the inside I’m crying. I’m screaming. The damn pain in my back passage won’t ease. I’m looking for the word for my feelings. I feel brutalized. Traumatized. I know I won’t get over this any time soon.

For hours I lie there just crying to myself. Then suddenly I feel my eyelids under my control. I keep them shut, and I gratefully fall into a deep exhausted sleep. Some time in the night, it’s dark around me except for the light that comes from the door, I wake up and feel that I have regained parts of my mobility. I slowly turn around on my side, groaning at the pain it causes inside my arse, and I fall asleep once again.

I just want to be dead.
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The Terrible broom Cabinet Fic