Surviving Slam's Pit

**Disclaimer: I don't own Riddick, and after this one he'd be crazy to want me to!!


Chapter 3

Riddick closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He gripped the edge of the table tightly, hoping to prepare himself in some way.

Doc's weight pressed him forward until his bare thighs were tight against the sharp edge of the table. Then he was pulling back, putting space between them. A rough hand entered his crack, making him tense against the intrusion. Another hand and he was being spread, cool air feeling foreign to the intimate area.

Like Doc had warned, he spit thickly several times. The hot slick fluid ran down until Doc spread it with a nearly capable touch that felt practiced. His fingertips eased across Riddick's sphincter several times, probing, making him wince and jerk in response.

"Relax, Kid, it'll hurt less."

"You're not the one bent over this fuckin' table," Riddick hissed.

Doc chuckled. "True, but like every lifer, I've had to take it a time or two. Ya learn to like it in some ways."

As he spoke he pressed a single finger into Riddick's exposed anus, causing a groan of pain and denial. Riddick gripped the table tighter, willing himself not to fight.

The finger inside him squirmed, making circles as if to stretch him, then a second was squeezing in beside the first. Riddick could barely breath it hurt so bad. He chewed his lip, sucking down the resulting blood without thinking about it, not feeling the pain of munching on the abused flesh.

Doc groaned appreciatively at his tightness, thrusting his fingers deeper. Riddick fell forward over the table in an unconscious attempt to flee the invasive pain. His muscles strained painfully as he prepared for more, knowing it was only going to hurt worse.

The two fingers inside him scissored suddenly and he cried out, surprising himself at his uncontrolled reaction. Then he was moving without thinking. He twisted, his elbow making solid contact with Doc' face, crunching the cartilage of his nose.

Doc had obviously been caught by surprise, not expecting the attack. He gasped in pain and stumbled back. But Riddick's other arm was already coming around. With the force of his twisting body he slammed his fist forward, making contact with a bony point of the man's face.

A grunt of pain, and then Riddick heard the soft 'thwick' of metal over leather. He stared with wild eyes around him, but could see nothing. His breath panted out of him, deafening him to any other sound.

A slight temperature change was the first thing to alert him of Doc's closeness. He reacted, swinging nearly wildly at where he thought the man was, but his fist never made contact with anything. Instead he gasped as he felt a blade enter his skin, slicing through the flesh of his arm. He jerked back and away, but couldn't defend himself against an attack he couldn't see.

Hot blood ran down his arm from the stinging wound in his bicep. He covered the injury with his free hand, but could do nothing else.

The rasp of Doc' nose and throat sucking in air alerted him this time. The shiv sliced through his thigh, leaving a long shallow cut.

"A couple more small cuts and you can get busy bleeding to death."

Riddick was panting from adrenaline and fear, nearly panicked by his helplessness. "Stop, please."

"Blood works as a much better lube. Thanks for reminding me of that."

Each time Doc spoke he was in a different spot, reminding Riddick that there was no way to track him. "Okay. I'm sorry. Stop," Riddick panted, feeling suddenly weary. Whether it was from blood loss or just the day's events he didn't know.

"Come here," Doc ordered softly, his voice sounding further muffled as if he was staunching the bleeding with something.

Riddick took a hesitant step forward, limping heavily on his injured leg. His other leg kicked something over and he stilled, trapped by his sightlessness.

"Come here." Doc hadn't moved, but the short distance between them might as well have been a mile to Riddick.

"I can't fucking see!" he roared in frustration.

Suddenly he was being shoved from behind. A hand at his neck and another clutching his arm pushed him forward roughly. His pants were still around his knees, keeping him from taking full steps and he stumbled and started to fall. He skidded onto his knees, tearing cloth and skin alike, his forward momentum surely going to take him into a sprawling face plant. He tried to put his hands out in front of him to catch himself, but was brought up short as his waist hit the edge of a bed.

The air rushed from his lungs in an 'oof' as he bent over the soft mattress, held in place by the man still behind him. Within seconds his hands were lashed behind his back, doubled at the wrists, leaving him even more helpless.

"We could have done this the easy way or the hard way. You made your choice." Doc was panting, and practically sitting on him as he held him down to secure his wrists. When the ties were so tight that he instantly began to lose feeling in his hands, Doc climbed off of him.

A hand on his back kept him in place. Loss of blood and the quick trip through the dark left him feeling disoriented and more and more lightheaded.

Doc lost no time. He shoved roughly at Riddick's neck, pushing his face into the mattress, and Riddick struggled to turn his head so he could breath at all. A hand slid across the injury on his thigh, making him gasp at the stinging pain. Then his ass was being spread cruelly, the same hand slapped against his exposed anus with a sticky wetness that could only be blood. Then there was a blunt pressure directed at the clenching muscle.

Doc's hand scraped heavily down Riddick's back, the fingers biting in, managing to catch hold of a fold of skin. Riddick gave a startled cry, feeling as if his skin was being ripped off. Then Doc was leaning over him, his heat pressing close to Riddick's back, while hauling backward on the handhold of skin.

Riddick screamed as his ass was penetrated for the first time. Doc didn't stop his forward thrust until his belly was flush against Riddick's ass. One hard plunge and Riddick felt like he'd been ripped open, torn apart. He gasped for breath in that moment that Doc stilled, but then the man immediately started thrusting, jerking his hips in short snaps. His fingers bit into Riddick's back and hip, pulling him downward with each rough stroke.

Riddick cried out again at the intense pain several more times and then just lay beneath his abuser, nearly mindless in pain. He forgot to fight, he nearly forgot to breath. His mouth hung open against the mattress, rasping breaths entering him with each thrust of the man violating him.

It seemed to last forever, but in a tiny corner of his mind that was still having involuntary realistic thoughts, he knew it couldn't have been more than minutes. The grunting heaving man above him worked himself to a fever pitch before groaning and straining against him.

Riddick moaned in pain, his abused skin being yanked one last time. His ass felt liquidy with fluid, but at least was working to ease the friction of Doc's last few jerky thrusts. Then stinging pain as Doc pulled out and away, exposing his battered sphincter and probably most of his bowels to the cool air. Doc finally released him to take an unsteady step back, breathing harshly.

Every part of Riddick's body was either numb or still in excruciating pain. His back throbbed from having his skin stretched, his ass was on fire, the muscles unwillingly flexing in response to the abuse were causing the pain to flare repeatedly. The cuts on his arm and leg were just dull aches in comparison, though the flesh around each felt heated already, the skin tight with drying blood. His knees burned from the slide they had taken across the dirty floor, and he was certain that gravel was working beneath his skin.

But with all these discomforts, despite all the pain, his center of attention was on the slow slide of thick hot fluid down the inside of his thigh. The pain and injuries he could take. It was the humiliation that would stay with him, that left him frozen now. Never would he forget this degradation. He lay across a filthy bed, tied and bleeding, unable to move, exposed and abused, unable to even see the damage done, much less do something about it. He was totally dependent on the man who had put him in this state. As he lay bleeding and aching he promised himself that no matter what it took, somehow, someday, he would get even. He would remember this first humiliating hard lesson, and he would give payback.

That sentiment eased his mind some, and made the next thing he had to do somewhat easier. Only he and Doc would ever know what happened in this room, and that also made it easier. What happened now, to ensure his survival, was something that he knew he'd never admit doing later. He was ashamed in advance for what he must do.

"Please."

It was a choked slurred word that could barely be heard because of the way he was lying, with his face pressed into the damp circle of his own drool. But it was only the first.