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Wicked Games	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2287 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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.

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Title: Flickering, I Roam (Wicked Games, Part 3)
Author: Robby a.k.a. MrNaked
Rating: NC-17, for M/M sex, coarse language and all the tasty stuff
Pairing: Who else? Till, Christoph and Richard
Disclaimer: This is all pure fiction; none of this happened, it’s only a product of my sick mind!
Summary: The game takes a new turn.
Warning: Might be offensive and disturbing.

Flickering, I roam

Endorphins. That’s what the brain releases – its own heroin – to ease the pain. But what about that bitter poison that it releases when you feel that a sour wave is splashing you from inside, from head to toes, making your body want to explode, to dissipate itself in tiny particles melting in the whole Universe?

Flickering, I roam… through this city. I’m just a fading image making its way among buildings, among human bodies moving, among sounds of sirens and speeding cars on the wet roads.

Night time, yeah, with all these lights and all this noise, all too much and all too loud for me to be able to drown my pain in silent darkness. And the physical pain, the cold I’m craving for, anything to chase away this torment burning my soul and my mind, and this hot intoxicating, inflaming feeling of disgust. Nothing seems to have any effect on me now.

If I could only get rid of my own body like one gets rid of a dirty piece of cloth. But no, I have to carry around this body of mine, and, inside its head, the images, the pain, the self-disgust, the shame…

Am I talking to myself? Why did that woman stare at me like that, then?

I didn’t notice her coming toward me; I only felt her glance, burning the skin on my face. Then I saw her crossing my way, when she was already a few centimeters in front of me. Her glance pulled me out of my jail of thoughts; her disgusted and, in the same time, pitiful look. I’m just another lunatic lost in this sea of people, wandering through it.

Flickering, I roam…

My peripheral glance saw that silhouette by my side, doing the same moves I did… A mirror, in one of those too lightened shop’s windows. Millions of mirrors.

No. TV sets’ screens in a shop, one of those closed circuit things where you can see yourself in TV screens. And I saw this flickering shadow; a tall big man in his 40s, dark haired, looking so gross with those black and blue stains splattered on his face, grinning disdainfully at me – my bruises.

“I heard you like blood,” Christoph said, while Richard’s fingers were clenched painfully at my throat, that morning.

Why the fuck did he have to tell him? Why did he have to drag Christoph into this stupid game he insisted on carrying on? Why did Christoph go along with all this shit anyway? What did I do to him?

But hell, no, there wasn’t a game anymore! After all they did. It turned into something worse. Something so gross, so… enough to make me wander around with my mind lost, wondering how could they get so low.

I threw a glance to the big flat screen in front of me. I turned my head a bit and saw that hideous black stain, the painful bruise on the corner of my eye spreading on the temple and down along the side and the cheek bone.

I shouldn’t have gone there that evening; I shouldn’t have accepted Richard’s invitation to have a drink with him in his hotel suite.

Why the fuck did he need a suite anyway, couldn’t he just stay in one of our houses? His New York shit poisoned his stupid head! He’s too good for us now, former Eastern Germans!

But it should have occurred to me that he was up to something. Poor stupid Till, too exhilarated by the thought that finally Richard wants to make up with him, too high on thinking that something like in Spain might happen. Wouldn’t it have been just wonderful?

It should have crossed my mind, seeing his cat-like smile, while having his wine in that fine glass…. And what a good wine it was, warmish scent, with that autumn apples-like flavor!

Fucking traitor! He must have slipped a drug in my glass; otherwise the world wouldn’t have disappeared so quickly from my sight.

Actually, while talking and drinking with him, I was more concerned about that cigarette smoke he was blowing in my direction. His gesture irritated me. He knew damn well I was quitting smoking! He knew I couldn’t stand the smell anymore, because of the cravings, he knew very fucking well that my poor body and my tormented brain were so tempted.

This too – his behavior, I mean – should have rang the alarm for me. But no, the big and stupid Till was too enchanted by his presence, his smooth skin, his glowing smile and his pectorals’ shapes revealed through that tight T-shirt he was wearing.

“I want you to see blood and to cum!” that fucking traitor said to me the next day.

This is how I found myself back then, sitting on the floor in Richard’s hotel room, handcuffed in the corner, near the wall, by that stupid pipe. No wonder he picked such an old hotel; with pipes along the wall!

Before Richard grabbed my hair, I threw a look to my left, begging for help. I raised my eyes along those endless straight slim legs, to the narrow hips, and then further, along the thin waist and straight chest, till I met Christoph’s glance. Fucking Christoph, he knew it all! All! About me, about Richard!

But Christoph wasn’t going to help me; he was just standing there, smoking.

“Probably he’ll cum if we put out a cig on his bare ass.” Christoph grinned, but such a cold grin, like he was only an automated replica of our Schneider, trying to imitate human behavior.

And that image ran away from my eyes, as Richard’s fingers clenched in my hair and pushed my head. I felt the impact; I felt the sturdiness of the brick wall against my face. I saw a blue flash in the corner of my eye, under my closed eyelid. And again, I felt the rough surface of the wall as my face got hit against it. Again! And again!

“He won’t stop until you cum.” I could hear Christoph’s voice floating, before my face was banged against the sturdy surface again.

But, hell, the vision of my own blood, splattered on the wall, smudged on Richard’s fingers, couldn’t do the trick for me anymore!

How fucking stupid! How fucking childish! And I yelled that to them! To Richard. We’re grownups now; we’re not playing any games anymore! But yelling, begging, screaming, groaning while struggling and jerking my hands kept prisoners by those handcuffs, nothing helped.

And that always present thirst…

I look down at the concrete of the sidewalk, between my feet, glittering dimly, city lights flickering in the dark rain puddles. It rained so hard this evening. I clench my teeth; they washed me before setting me free, but I still can feel the crumby specks of mud between my teeth.

Only a few hours ago I was blindfolded – scared shitless and shaking, drowned in my own fear like in my own piss – and sat in the backseat of a car, handcuffed, choked by the collar that was put around my neck. I could hear, above my head, the raging rain hitting the car roof. I could also feel the warmth – frozen by silence warmth – inside the vehicle that was transporting me to nowhere.

Then the car stopped. My heart stopped too. What now?

A click. One of the doors opened. Another click. A movement. The collar was jerked, pulling my neck forward, forcing me to move, to step out of the car. So I moved, I followed this traction. I complied. I was so long ago broken like a twig, already subdued by them. My soul and all were already torn out of me, by what they did.

On the TV screen – the flickering face, my face, with painful blackened stains at the corners of the lips. And, under my chin, the red and bluish signs, finger prints and collar prints, like carved with red hot iron, like that pain which got carved into my soul.

Where is she now? How did they get her to go along with this? I should fucking kill them for whatever they did to her to make her comply with their demented games!

I bite my tongue and swallow, trying to chase away my thoughts. No, I can’t dare to go on this track, no, no, no! Those thoughts, those memories. They broke me! Richard and Christoph. They just killed me inside. Now I’m just the flickering shadow roaming this city. I’m the flickering image of a man standing in front of a shop window, staring at himself through TV screens.

Hours ago I was pulled out of the car.

“On your fucking knees!” I heard Richard’s order, and I felt myself being hit and pushed down on all fours. I felt the strong jerking of the collar, choking me, tightening around my throat, forcing me to walk on all fours, like an animal.

The cold wet mud sucked my palms in and the sharp rocks on the ground cut my skin. I followed that pulling movement on my collar, feeling the fabric of my pants getting drenched and sticking on my legs, feeling my bare back being hit by rain drumming on my skin.

Then, we stopped. Cold water pouring on my cheeks, behind my ears, down my neck, was making the collar feel like an icy grip around my throat.

As I sat, cold wet fingers pulled off the blindfold. Darkness around me, wet cold darkness. Kneeled in mud, between two flickering black shadows; Richard and Christoph... Somewhere, at a distance, there was the wet slithering concrete serpent of the road, with cars, appearing and disappearing like howling nightmares, while the black glittering asphalt skin of the highway was shining for a few seconds under cars’ front lights.

I looked up, along the legs and the bodies of the two black motionless shadows standing, like pictures carved on the dark background of the night sky. I couldn’t hear; I just felt the sound of the cold rain soaking my body, my shivering, beaten and abused body. This was the end, wasn’t it?

I was craving for the end, my own end. My brain was too exhausted to emit the thought that, for the millionth time, this had gone too far. After what they did, we had reached the point of no return.

The shorter man’s foot, Richard’s, was rising – its black shape blocking my view for a second. I felt my own body falling on my side, pushed by his foot. I was an autumn dead leaf making its way to the ground. So I left this body, this traitorous thing, but I was happy to do so, after all that has been. It was empty inside; I could hear the raindrops drumming on my own body, like on a huge empty tin can. And the mud was sucking me greedily into the ground. Dirt was spreading in my eyes, making the world disappear bit by bit. Mud was infiltrating between my parted lips, and was entering my nostrils with each inhaling and exhaling of mine.

But I was somewhere above that empty deserted shell lying in the mud. I was watching those two black shadows walking under the waves of rain flooding the world. Those two silhouettes, walking to the black shadow of the car resting near the road. The car’s lights were off; one could rather feel than see the dormant glossy metal monster.

A thought moved in my head then: at least they had mercy and would not make me survive the next day, they wouldn’t force me to live with this shame, this pain, this insanity I’d committed, even if it was unwillingly.

But no, they had to be even crueler – the two black silhouettes stopped and turned around. They came back to collect the carcass almost buried in the greedy dirt. Richard’s shadow bent and grabbed the end of the leash sunk in the mud. Then he pulled it.

“C’mon Till, we’re done for today.” I read that thought of his rather than heard it.

I was helped to stand and to walk back to the car. And I hated both of them for that. For forcing me to live with that. I was done for good. Finished. Emptied of all my insides the night before, till I was turned into this flickering image I am now.

And now, flickering, I roam…

It wasn’t Richard’s hand banging my head against the wall when I was defenseless, handcuffed. It wasn’t his voice ordering me this and that, impossible things to do. It wasn’t the punishments, either, for not being able to cum when ordered to, that twisted idea of Christoph’s to fuck my ass with a huge dildo. I could care less about this childish stunt they were pulling if they wouldn’t have gotten that low.

I was worried more about what Richard told Christoph; how much about this aberrant game he told him. Did he tell him about Spain, too?

“What was that, that happened in Spain then, Richard?” I asked, fuzzy headed from all that hitting and abuse.

I couldn’t feel my arms anymore, my wrists were so swollen and bruised, my back was so achy from that uncomfortable position on the floor in which I had been kept for hours. But Richard’s glowing smile in the dimming afternoon light was the only answer I was granted with.

Of course, the fucking distorted bastard, he had to seduce me first, to gain my trust. It was all his game, carefully planned long ago. He had time to plan, all these years. All his fucking game!

Oh, all the nice ways he treated me during the recordings, during the video shooting and all was bullshit to fool me!

And the thirst, that terrible thirst I was always tormented by. They were waiting and waiting for me to beg, to ask for something, some water. Then they were bringing it, sitting near me, helping me, with gentle grips on my jaws, lifting my chin, helping me to have it all, making sure I was drinking it all. Then, a few minutes after that, the world was to disappear again from my eyes, so I’d wake up, hours later, with a fuzzy head and gluey remains of thoughts and images floating in my mind, like a hangover.

“They’ll ask where I am,” I managed to mumble at one point, closing my eyes so I wouldn’t see the room spinning around, making me more nauseous.

“We’re all three gone for a short trip,” Christoph’s whisper poured into my ear. And I laughed. I chuckled. A bitter and desperate laugh.

But the next time I got back to reality I saw the darkness of the room and, far away, through an opened door, yellow electric light from outside carving weird shapes in the bedroom… Terrifying shapes… Like the shape of a girl sitting on me, such a very young girl, in her early teens, with legs spread, thighs rubbing against my hips. The shape of her head with long hair, the small breasts’ contour profiled on the yellow light’s background, her slim and tiny body…

An electric torch flickered, blinding me for few seconds. I remembered then – I was still handcuffed, lying on that bedroom floor.

Now, though, there was a girl sitting on my body, with her fingers wrapped around my stiffened cock.

But that wasn’t it. It was what I saw in that flickering torchlight that drove my eyes crazy. An insane thought was crawling like an icy evil snake into my mind. The familiarity of that long hair and of her face’s shape… I knew those eyes… it couldn’t be!

I moved my head slowly, between my arms, feeling like even in darkness, I could still see the room spinning.

“This has gone too far,” I moaned. “It’s too sick,” I begged. “Too sick!” I prayed that it wouldn’t be for real. No, it couldn’t be what I thought it was!

“Do her, you perverted fuck!” I heard his whisper, his lips brushing against mine.

“No!” I squeaked, forcing my eyes to see Richard’s face near mine. “Not this, Rich, not her, please!” I begged.

“She’ll do you then,” his lips flickered and then they grabbed my lips, tasting my mouth, biting my tongue. I tried to say something, but his teeth clutched painfully on my lip, pulling on it.

In the same time, I was feeling the girl’s wetness and hotness, sliding down on my erect cock. Her small fingers were gripping on my waist, while I was trying to pull myself from Richard’s kiss.

How low could they get?

No way! Not her, for fuck sake! Both fucking traitors, doing such shit to me! I used to love you, Richard, god damn it!

I was sucking on his tongue, knowing it would be for the last fucking time I’d taste him! This was too much; he went too far! He fucked my ex-wife, but she wasn’t his own flesh and blood!

I felt something breaking inside me, like a twig.

I was so fucking hating him for what he was forcing me to do this time, now! And, yet, so crushed by the thought of losing him! So much loving him!

I looked down at my own body, trying to see her… I saw those long slim fingers encircling my nipples, arousing me even more, then Christoph’s face, leaning over my chest to place wet hot kisses on my skin. I felt Richard’s caresses on my neck, and heard his whispers in my ear. The girl moaned, while she was riding my cock, and all was wrapped in darkness slashed by the flickering light from the torch on the floor.

And, above all that, I felt the burning traces, hot, wet, burning traces on my face – my tears, wet flames pouring from my eyes.

Why do you do this to me, Richard, my love? my thoughts were yelling at him, while my mouth was kissing his face. Not this. It’s too fucking sick. Please, man, not this!

Richard’s tongue was going along the hot wet traces of my tears, while Christoph’s lips were kissing and sucking my nipples and the girl’s shrieks were tearing darkness.

No, not in her! Never!

They’d punish me for this, probably they’d tear my insides again with that dildo, but they could do whatever they want to me, I wasn’t to cum in her, not her!

Richard’s lips were kissing the pain away from the bruises on my face, going on my cheekbones and the corners of my eyes. Then he left my face and went up to my arms, restrained above my head, caressing and kissing my achy and swollen flesh. My eyes were burning – pieces of coal under my eyelids – pouring waves of tears that were digging flaming traces on my face.

Richard’s bare chest was pressing warm, brushing his smooth skin against my bare skin. I felt that hand pushing the girl away; then Christoph’s hands were taking completely off my pants.

Someone, something, a movement, touched the electric torch on the floor and the light started rolling, making darkness spin.

My legs were being spread apart, while Richard’s tongue was again licking the painful burning traces of tears on my face. My ass got raised and lubed with silky touches, then entered by a hot, pulsing stiff cock, making me moan slightly on Richard’s lips. Christoph’s long and slim, yet strong fingers clenched at the base of my member, a human flesh iron cock ring.

Shapes and shadows around me were slowing down, as the torch light was easing its spin, and through my shivers of fear and disgust, I was feeling Christoph’s gentle thrusts becoming harsher, faster – more mind-blowing – making me open and push myself into him. I was feeling my cock ready to explode, but not allowed to by that tight ring made of Christoph’s fingers.

Richard’s facial features seemed longer, his chin sharper, as he was rising near me, his chest slithering through the yellow cut of light in darkness: nipples, pectorals, abdomen…

My lips clenched at that movement, brushing kisses on that skin sliding under my mouth. His tasty skin I used to love so much until that moment.

Richard’s hands grabbed the back of my head, jerking my neck, forcefully, suddenly, pulling my hair. I opened my mouth for him, letting myself be entered by his stiff, hot pulsing cock.

I knew I had the opportunity; I could do it, oh, to make him pay back for forcing me to do her! I could clench my jaws on him. But no, I just squeezed my eyelids, in a futile attempt to stop the flooding tears.

I would have done anything with them, with him, for him, but not with her. Not her, you demented fucks!

Moans, their moans melting in the darkness, slithering serpents dancing around our bodies, my body sprawled there, with legs on Christoph’s shoulders, with lips around Richard’s cock, my own cock prisoner of Schneider’s fingers’ pressure. Their moans uniting with the silent dripping of my tears.

Not with her, for fuck sake! Now all it’s over! This empty shell you’re ass fucking and mouth fucking, this empty carcass doesn’t care anymore.

The tight circle of fingers’ shackles broke all of a sudden; the dam released the wild raging waters.

I caught a glimpse of Richard’s sparkling eyes above me – two blue flames flickering in the dim light – while I just wished for more tears, oceans of tears to wash away what they did, to flood the world as their semen was flooding my mouth, my throat, my insides. And my own seed dripping on my skin, while tears still dripped down my face.

“But no wave of tears could ever wash away what they did,” I mumble to myself, roaming the streets again, back to my place.

Would I be able to see her face to face, ever again? Would I be able ever again to look into her eyes? What the fuck did they do to her to make her go along with this shit? Oh no, I won’t go along with those thoughts… Too broken to even grow some rage inside, to gather all the hate in that empty place where my soul used to be! Too drained by all this to even climb the stairs; I’m again that flickering shadow crawling to my apartment, being welcomed by its motionlessness and silence.

I turn on the night lamp in my bedroom and take off my clothes, throwing them somewhere on the floor. Maybe I should call her, discuss this thing that happened with her. I carefully lay my aching body in bed. Call her and say what? What the fuck is left to say after all this shit happened? Fuck, I’m just losing my mind.

Instead I grab a book and my glasses. I open it randomly, forcing myself to follow the dark tiny lines flickering under the yellow light.

And they took me back, to the car; they collected this empty shell and dragged it into the car, then took it back to that hotel suite, they showered it, they shaved it with gentle and caressing touches, they even took care of the wounds… Who the fuck will take care of the wound inside my soul?

I turn the page, though I didn’t even read it. I’m just staring at the letters imprinted on the paper.

What was left to say after this disgusting shit they came up with, anyway? So I didn’t say anything, back then. I complied and I allowed them to do what they wanted. To get me ready and to let me free, a flickering image roaming the city.

Now I need to rest. To sleep for weeks, to drown into oblivion. But I won’t be granted even that; nightmares will haunt my mind, torture it and…

The flickering stopped. Above my glasses’ frame I catch a glimpse of those three white silhouettes, standing still, like glued on the black background, the darkness around the spot of my night lamp.

It’s them, two men and a woman, standing in front of me, inches away from the end of my bed. Christoph’s icy flame sparkling in his eyes, Richard’s motionless face, with long features and stern look. But the woman, the woman, so tiny, so skinny, her long hair, the shape of her face, those eyes…

“Nele?” I finally dare to pronounce the name I’ve been avoiding to even think of, scared that acknowledging what really happened there would make me admit it, and, therefore, I’d crumble into pieces. I’d just collapse.

“No,” Christoph whispers.

I look at him, then at Richard’s face, now stripped of that cat-like smile. And then again at all three of them, with eyes like mirrors, only reflecting what was happening in front of them, flickering images of me.

The woman… No, it isn’t her! That woman is way older, her facial features still different from my daughter’s. But in that darkness, in the flickering torchlight, in my drugged mind, it looked just like her.

It was still too fucking much!

A bitter and burning wave of disgust splashes inside my mouth, my guts turning and struggling inside me.

“Get the fuck out of my house, you demented shits! All of you, fuck off!” I grunt, feeling that flame of rage and hate bursting in my chest.

“It wasn’t Nele, you freak!” I hear Richard’s voice while I turn on the right side, taking the glasses off, and lay back in bed, with my arm covering my face. “Nele is safe and sound.”

“You made me believe it was her,” I mumble with my face buried under my thick muscle. “You have a daughter too, how could you? I’m the freak?”

“Guess it hurt, huh?” I hear Christoph’s whisper.

What the fuck is he doing here? What is his fucking place in all this?

“Fuck off!” I grunt again and my fingers clench on the pillow’s corner.

Where the fuck did they find that woman who looks so much like her?

“You just wanted revenge. Now you’ve got it. Fuck off!” I mumble again, closing my eyes under the protective shadow of my arm, trying to sink deeper in my bed, to hide from those three images in my bedroom, from the world, from myself.

But I know they’re still there.

“Revenge is sweet, I can tell you that, Till,” comes that drained but so amused whisper of Richard.

Oh yeah, you got me, you little fuck! Again!

Under the skin of my arm the bruise on my cheekbone is pulsing hot.

Oh, you sad fuck!

I close my eyes wishing for the world to disappear again, as I mumble:

“Revenge is for fools!”

To Be Continued
- 2
- 3
- 4
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Wicked Games