Vicious Betrayal

Title: Vicious Betrayal
Summary: It’s time for Lane to give it up to Bob
Author’s Website: www.darknessprevails.com
Comments: darkestangel@darknessprevails.com
LJ: darkestangelspn.livejournal.com
Warnings: non-con, interracial sex, slash, violence, angst
Pairing: Lane/Bob
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own Switchback or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended with Paramount’s property
Author’s Notes:
1.Not sure what readers will think of this story but this idea has been roaming around in my head for months.
2.This is my usual dark stuff, so if you don’t like rape and violence, I suggest that you not read this little tale.
3.This is an extra scene in the movie Switchback, and it is a bit A/U in that it changes two details in a scene that allows for the extra scene to play out.

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The Rio-Grande Train line-Freight 1020

Lane Dixon sat on the train’s wooden floor watching as Federal Agent Frank LaCrosse and serial killer Bob Goodall fought back and forth across the boxcar. His neck had been grazed by a bullet moments earlier when LaCrosse shot at Goodall. Lane had seen the killer fall off the train due to the gunshot, and he was grateful when the agent had wrapped his neck in a makeshift bandage trying to slow the blood coming from his wound; but somehow Bob had gotten back on the train. Lane watched helplessly as the two men fought each other and he felt himself getting weaker by the moment as the blood oozed out of his wound. He held his hand to his neck hoping that LaCrosse would be able to defeat Goodall and get him some help before he bled to death.

Bob slammed his fist one last time into Frank’s face and smiled in satisfaction as the agent fell to the floor and slipped into unconsciousness. He wiped at his forehead and saw blood on his hand from the wound he had received when Lane had hit him in the head with a shovel. He turned and looked menacingly at the smaller man who was standing up slowly despite the injury to his neck. He had always thought the doctor was a pretty man, but now that the other man’s neck and hands were covered in blood, and it only enhanced his sexual need for the boy.

Lane backed away slowly from Bob running his bloody hand along the wall of the train. He saw a steam release valve and wondered if he could reach out and turn it on before the other man could attack.

Bob felt his cock reacting to the even paler than usual doctor who was retreating away like a hurt animal, but who was obviously plotting to turn the steam valve on. He used the bowie knife to cut the radio wire that had been blaring just moments earlier; the train line trying to contact the freight, “You got the nerve?” He licked his lips and knew that he was going to have the boy before he killed him, “It’s time to give it up Doc.”

Lane reached to turn the valve but Bob was faster and he felt himself getting grabbed and hoisted away from the valve. He was thrown down on the floor of the train, and despite the fact that he didn’t have much energy left, he fought at the hands that tore at his pants and boots, “What the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like Doc?” Bob smiled brightly as he yanked off Lane’s jeans and boots. Every inch of pale skin exposed stirred his excitement even further, “You know you want this.” He took off his rawhide gloves and rubbed his hands up Lane’s smooth pale thighs, “A boy like you is only made for one thing.”

Lane’s eyes opened wide in fear as the larger darker man began unzipping his own pants and pulled out his thick leaking prick. Lane could barely speak, but he managed to get a few words of protest out. “No. Don’t do this.”

Bob took a looked over at LaCrosse making sure that the man was still unconscious, “This is going to happen Doc…I’ve been dreaming about sinking into your fine ass for days.”

Lane punched weakly at Goodall’s face, but Bob simply grabbed the frail man’s wrists in his hands and held them down onto the floor. He forced Lane’s legs apart and settled his knees in between the younger man’s thighs, “Spread them like you do for all those strangers who give you free rides.”

“Get off me…please,” Lane hoarsely replied.

Bob ignored Lane’s pleas and instead forced the boys thighs apart with his legs and began forcing his dick inside the dry unprepared passage, “This might hurt a bit Doc.” He held the struggling boy down easily and pushed past the resisting sphincter and inside Lane’s body with powerful thrusts that he sure was tearing the boy apart. He couldn’t find the time to feel bad about tearing the boy; besides, the blood made it easier to get inside.

“No!” Lane yelled as best he could as he was split in two. “Stop!”

The heat engulfed Bob’s cock as he sunk deeper and deeper into the smaller body beneath him. He had fantasized about taking the younger man in his arms and devouring him from the inside out for days, and now fantasy was becoming reality. The young smooth body beneath Bob thrust upwards trying to dislodge him, but he only grunted and held the delicate wrists down harder onto the cold hard floor of the train as he plowed in and out of the struggling body beneath him.

Lane grunted and squirmed underneath the heavier man trying desperately to dislodge his attacker from his body, but it was of no use as the other man simply held him down even harder. He turned his face to the side when the other man tried to kiss him. It was humiliating enough that he had another man inside him; filling him up with his phallus, spitting him in two, so he sure as hell wasn’t going to willingly let the other man stick his tongue down his mouth. As a doctor, he knew the mechanics of homosexual sex, and he knew of the pleasures of the prostate, but Bob Goodall, serial killer turned rapists, was not trying to give him pleasure. This attack was meant to establish dominance and control, and to make the last moments of Lane Dixon’s life pure hell on Earth.

“You’re such a pretty little thing,” Bob crooned as he continued fucking Lane on the floor of the train. “I’ve wanted you since I saw you going into that motel room with that stranger.” He licked at Lane’s neck and took the smaller man’s wrists into one hand and pushed Lane’s beige over shirt and white t-shirt up with the other so he could see the Doc’s tiny little nipples. The pebbles were hard from the cold mountain air, and he licked his lips at the thought of sucking on them, “What exactly did you do for that stranger anyway?” He got only silence from the hitchhiker he had setup for the murders he had committed, “You whore yourself out for a place to stay? Maybe you sucked him off and swallowed his cum?”

Lane couldn’t believe that this was the same man he had been traveling with for the past few days. Bob had saved him at the mining bar from the clutches of the drunk men, he had been an honest and friendly stranger who had taken Lane under his wing, and had given him companionship as they crossed the continental divide. Lane had talked to Bob about his medical career, his failure as a doctor, his fears, and Bob had encouraged him and had doted on him like a father; but now he was meeting the man that FBI Special Agent LaCrosse had known for years; a cold-hearted, brutal, cunning killer who apparently got off on hurting others.

Bob slowed down his pace and slowly pulled his leaking shaft out of the boy’s body only to plunge back inside in one harsh thrust. He grinned at the whimper of pain that came from Lane’s mouth. “Surely, you gave the poor boy something for a place to stay. I sure hope you did…I’d hate to think he died because of you and didn’t even get to fuck your sweet mouth.”

“Fuck you,” Lane weakly replied bucking up against the larger frame. “You’re fucking crazy.”

Bob stilled inside the warmth and smiled down at Lane whose neck was covered in blood, “It took you long enough to figure that out Doc.” He took the boy’s flaccid cock in his hand and squeezed hard, “You really could try to get into this a little more.”

“Go to Hell,” Lane moaned as his member was squeezed and coaxed into partial hardness. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I needed LaCrosse off my back, and you were just too pretty to pass up,” Bob explained winking. Without warning, he pulled out of Lane’s body and roughly turned him over onto his stomach, “Never could resist a fine white ass like yours.” He lifted the smaller man’s thin hips off the floor, slapped Lane’s plump backside, and squeezed both cheeks roughly. He pulled the cheeks apart and spat on the red swollen hole that awaited him, “Fucking beautiful…I got hard these last few days just thinking about plowing into this white ass.” He pushed back inside the resisting body and held Lane’s shoulders down onto the dirty train floor.

“Oh God,” Lane moaned in pain as he was split in two once again by the large thick shaft. He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath as he was assaulted roughly by the killer. His hands grasped out trying to find something to hit the other man with, but all his blood-covered hands could do was to scrape across the floor as his body was violated over and over again. His nails dug into the wooden floor and he held on for dear life as the larger man plunged in and out of his sore and abused ass. He could feel the large hand on his shoulder holding him down and the other hand wrapped around his waist holding him in place. He opened his eyes and could see the unconscious LaCrosse out of the corner of his eye crumpled in the floor, and a part of him was terrified that the agent would wake up and see him in such a humiliating position, but another part of him wanted LaCrosse to regain consciousness and to stop Goodall from hurting him farther.

Bob looked over at the FBI agent periodically making sure that the other man was still unconscious and smiled knowingly when he saw Lane looking over at the other man as well. “He’s not going to help you Doc. He’s not going to be able to save your virtue…it’s already gone.” He emphasized his point with sharp quick jabs of the other man’s prostate, “You’re already desecrated…tainted.”

Lane closed his eyes tightly once again in shame and could feel his body trembling in disgrace, “Did you do this to all your victims before you killed them?”

Bob once again slowed his pace, savoring every moment he had inside the vision of beauty beneath him, “Do what?” He looked down at where their bodies were joined and was mesmerized by his dark throbbing cock entering the pale quivering hole, “Did I fuck them before I killed them? Make their last moments on Earth as pleasurable as possible?”

Lane grunted in disbelief, “You call this pleasurable?”

“It is for me,” Bob cruelly laughed as he continued his assault. “But I must admit that this is a first for me.” He released Lane’s wrists and rubbed both his hands down Lane’s tense-filled back, “I’ve never wanted any of my victims like I want you…never got a boner looking at them.” Bob liked how his bulky dark hands looked on the pasty petite back of the good doctor, “I know that there’s a good chance I won’t live past his day, and I wanted to experience some pleasure before I died…is that so bad?”

Lane’s knees were aching from being pushed onto the hard wooden surface of the train floor, and he felt like he was getting splinters in his chest; and he wanted the torment to end as soon as possible, “I understand your need, but could you please hurry up and get it over with.”

“Eager aren’t we you little slut,” Bob grinned. “I knew you wanted my big black dick. Pretty little white boys like you always like dark meat, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Lane whispered trying to coax an orgasm out of the other man. He was nowhere near a climax of his own, and he was grateful that his rapist didn’t try to pleasure him.

“Fuck yeah,” Bob moaned at Lane’s admittance. “You want my cum, don’t you? Want me to fill you up with it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Lane reluctantly replied. He squeezed his inner muscles and began milking the other man’s cock, “Give it to me…please.” Lane couldn’t stop the tears as they began cascading down his face; he just wanted the pain to end, so he did what he had to do, “I want it so bad.”

Bob’s hands grabbed the smaller man’s hips and squeezed hard as he slammed in and out of Lane’s abused hole, “You’re fucking hot Doc…such a good little liar.” His dick erupted inside Lane’s body jettisoning warm creamy seed into the other man’s weakened body. He felt like his back was going to snap from the pressure of his release as he came undone inside the pretty Doc’s tight channel, “Fuck me…such as sweet, sweet ass!”

Lane could feel the other man’s shaft throbbing inside him, and he wanted nothing more than to throw up, but he pushed the sour bile back down his throat as he felt Bob finally pulling out of his body. Once the larger man removed himself, Lane’s knees collapsed underneath him, and he rested on the floor mindless of the filth.

Bob tucked his satisfied blood-covered cock back into his pants and looked over at LaCrosse knowing that he had to take care of the agent once and for all, “Get dressed Doc. We wouldn’t want Frank seeing you and your debauchery, now would we?” Bob slipped his rawhide gloves back on and zipped his jeans up looking back over at Lane who stilled rested on the floor with his naked ass and bare back exposed to the cold air that was coming from the open train door, “Go on now Doc…do as I say.”

Lane could barely muster the energy to move; much less get dressed, but he knew the agent could regain consciousness at any moment, so he slowly stood up while balancing himself up against the wall of the train. As expected, his head spun from the attack and the blood loss, and with shaking hands he reached for his pants trying to get dressed as quickly as possible. He pulled his beige shirt back down covering his torso once again and began putting his boots back on his cold feet trying to ignore the liquid he felt dribbling down his thighs.

Bob watched the pretty Doc filled with a twinge of regret. The boy hadn’t deserved the assault or being framed for the murders he didn’t commit, but he knew that LaCrosse now knew that Lane Dixon was not the killer he was looking for, “Come here Doc.”

Lane stood tall trying to look defiantly at the rapist, but his shaking frame gave away the fact that he was anything but defiant, “Are you going to kill me now?”

“Get over here,” Bob commanded grabbing the bowie knife off the floor once again. “You are trying my patience boy,” he warned stepping towards the wayward boy but was stopped by LaCrosse who had regained consciousness. They wrestled each other; Bob slicing Frank with the sharp knife. Lane watched the two men fighting not able to stop his abused body from slipping back down onto the floor. The loss of blood and the rape had just about done him in and he fell onto his side, closing his eyes to rest.

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Lane felt himself being stirred awake by the cops, “He’s lost a lot of blood.” An officer felt the victim’s skin, “And he has hypothermia.” Lane opened his eyes and saw LaCrosse staring at him nursing his own injuries. Lane could feel the cop touching his neck, and he felt dizzy and cold, but he knew that he had to make something good come out of all the pain and death that had surrounded him the last few days. With a trembling hand, he reached inside the cop’s shirt pocket and grabbed the black marker. He saw LaCrosse approaching him as he began scribbling on the floor.

LaCrosse watched the pale weakened man writing on the floor and stared on in disbelief and hope as the young man began writing an address, “My son? Is that where he is?”

Oakland
8890 Todd

Lane finished writing the killer’s final message and dropped the marker on the floor. “I think so,” he hoarsely replied. He could hear the helicopter outside and felt himself being lifted off the floor, “Is he dead?”

“Yeah,” LaCrosse replied watching as the young man was gently lowered to the paramedics who were standing by the boxcar on the ground. Frank closed his eyes in relief hoping that the victim would survive and hoping that his son was indeed at the scribbled address.

Lane felt himself being placed on a body board and felt his eyes once again drooping. He could feel the paramedics strapping him onto the board and carrying him over towards the helicopter. He thought of the last few days; the fun he had with Bob, the laughs, the near death on a slippery road, the sense of trust he felt towards the other man, and the ultimate betrayal on Bob’s part. He knew that once he recovered from the attack, he would go back into medicine and resume saving lives. Bob had hurt him and had killed so many people, but he had rejuvenated Lane’s desire to help others, and it was only through medicine that he could help others; and hopefully, help himself recover from Bob’s vicious assault.


I’m not so sure about this one…it’s not my best writing, but it has been over a month since I’ve written anything, so I forced my muses to write something today.
Please leave feedback if you enjoyed or if you have a comment to make.
Darkestangel