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The Fifty Eight Days of Gomorrah	By : Sanchica Category: +1 through F > Dungeons and Dragons Views: 2040 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the The Dungeons & Dragons TV show. This is a work of fanfiction done for entertainment purposes only. I don't get any money for writing this.

Chapter List
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Chapter 4
Hope full of spikes

Hank placed his hand on the rough wood of the door, unable to push it open. The small bowl he was holding on his other hand trembled a bit as the Ranger slowly bowed his head.

He was reluctant to enter that room. He knew what was waiting for him inside, but still the pain was unbearable. Hank couldn’t avoid blaming himself for everything that had happened. He had failed as leader and guide of the group, but most importantly, he had failed Eric. If he had been more careful, if he had made sure to keep the group together whilst the Orcs were attacking them…

Despite having the mental image of Eric in that dungeon, Hank was still in a denial state. He refused to believe what had happened, infinitely disgusted as he was. He hadn’t asked for details and he certainly didn’t want to know them, but he was certain that Eric had lived a living nightmare every minute of his stay in Venger’s castle, submitted to horrors that surpassed the worst perversions, his dignity murdered… Hank couldn’t feel sorrier for his friend, or more angered toward himself for allowing that to happen. The loss of Eric’s innocence was his fault.

But he did his best effort to exhibit a warm smile on his face when he finally opened the door and entered the room.

“Good morning,” he said, avoiding the awkward How are you question.

Eric, fully clothed with the villager outfit, was sitting in a fetal position on the bed at the bottom of the small room. He gave the blonde young man a fleeting glance before returning his attention to the half open window.

“We bought some giant clamp soup, your favorite,” Hank continued. “Bobby and I had to walk almost six miles to get it, so it got cold. But Sheila warmed it for you.”

“Thank you,” Eric almost whispered, keeping his eyes fixated on the window.

Hank bit his lips. Fuck, he felt like an idiot… He didn’t know how to address Eric, how to talk to him. In that moment, he would have done everything to take time back and recover the presumptuous, vain and loud-mouthed braggart that challenged every decision Hank made... so different from the destroyed young man that was before him right now. Hank repressed the need to close his eyes in frustration; he couldn’t get rid of the image of Eric chained naked inside that dungeon, his penis trapped and tortured… How shocking, how painful it had been…

“We’re staying some days more in the village,” Hank continued, doing his best to sound natural. “Diana and I got some jobs to pay for these rooms; even Bobby is working, helping the lumberjacks to reach their daily quota.”

“Is it because of me that you decided to stay?”

“Uh… no, of course not Eric. Of course you need to rest now, but I thought it would be better if we keep a low profile for a while. Nobody knows we are here and I would like to keep it that way.”

Of course Eric knew who nobody was, although he didn’t give any signal of having acknowledged what Hank had said.

“There is a local festivity today,” Hank continued. “The villagers are celebrating the arrival of the rain season and they will throw the most important party of the year. Would you like to come?”

Eric looked at Hank for the first time during the conversation. He was visibly upset. “Do I look like I want to party?”

There it was again, the very uncomfortable feeling… Hank felt that every minute Eric was becoming more and more distant. He just couldn’t recognize him anymore.

“You can’t hide here forever, Eric.”

“Hide?” Eric snapped, frowning.

“That’s not what I meant… It’s just that staying in this room won’t do any good to you. Why don’t you go outside, have some air…?”

“If I ever want your opinion, Hank, you can be sure that I will ask for it. Is there something else you wanted or you are going to stay there, invading my air?”

Irony… Eric’s personal trademark. But that wasn’t a good sign as Hank would have wanted to believe. The old Eric could have said those same words in other circumstances, but now they sounded guided by anger, no trace of his usual acid humor.

Oh Eric… what did Venger do to you?

Hank had to admit his defeat. “I’ll be outside, if you need anything… We all are here for you, Eric.”

Eric only returned his glance to the window.

………..

“How is he?” Sheila asked the useless question when Hank entered the living room of the little hut they had rented.

“Destroyed,” Hank replied, shaking his head. “How else could he be? He doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t even dare to look at me. I… I just don’t know how to reach him.”

“It’s too soon,” Sheila said. “He needs more time to recover.”

“If he ever recovers, you mean,” Hank said, frustrated. “How could he recover after what happened to him? It’s… it’s so unfair…”

Sheila put a comforting hand on Hank’s arm. “It’s not your fault, Hank.”

The blonde young man shook his head. “It wasn’t Eric’s fault either! He doesn’t deserve what happened to him!”

“But it happened, alright?” Diana said. “And there’s nothing we can do to change that! The only thing we can do is help Eric to move on. Being sorry for him will only depress him more.”

“Eh… why don’t we go to take a walk? The village festival is about to start,” Presto said, grabbing Bobby’s hand.

“No! I want to help Eric too!” the young Barbarian replied.

Sheila kneeled and put her hands on her little brother’s shoulders. “I know you want to, Bobby, we all do, but you are too young to listen to some things we are talking about right now.”

“I’m too young, I’m too young! That’s all you keep telling me since the day I was born! Eric is a jerk, but he’s my friend too and I want to help him. What is so bad that happened to him anyway? We rescued him, didn’t we? And he seems to be fine.”

Sheila turned around to hide her wet eyes from her little brother. “Eric went through very difficult days, Bobby. We all have to help him feel comfortable and don’t ask him any questions, do you understand? That’s very important.”

“Alright… geez, I wonder when the day will be when you’ll stop treating me like a kid!” Bobby spat, opening the door and losing himself within the gathering crowd outside.

“Did you tell Eric about the village’s festival, Hank?” Presto asked.

“Yes, but he didn’t even want to hear about it.”

“I insist that it’s too soon…” Sheila said. “He needs his space.”

“What he needs is a little taste of freedom. He spent two months locked in a dungeon, nothing but torture and four walls around him.”

“I agree with you, Diana,” Hank said, “but we can’t drag him and force him to have such freedom. He feels very embarrassed with all of us. I suggest we leave him be. He will come to us when he feels ready.”

“Yeah, and in the meantime his hair will get white, and so will ours.”

“Diana, please…” Sheila said. “We can’t even imagine the kind of horrors Eric suffered during all this time. Adding more pressure to his mind is not the answer.”

Diana shrugged her shoulders. “Neither is pity, but alright, I won’t go against the decision of the majority. I just hope Eric will get the picture before it’s too late.”

……….

DAY FOUR

Eric remembered the day in which he had felt like a grown man for the first time in his life. It had been when he was twelve, the day he graduated from sixth grade, the memorable day in which he noticed the tiny hair that had sprouted in his pubic area.

He also remembered the day in which he had felt embarrassed by the same thing that made him so proud. It had been days before his fifteenth birthday, when his father had caught him shaping up with a pair of scissors the descendants of that first hair. His father had beaten him, called him a pussy and threatened to use those same scissors to cut his cock off, explaining to his dirty little head that only women tidied up those very private zones.

“What’s next, you idiot? Are you going to start wearing make up? Do you use your mother’s dresses when she’s not around? You little fag!”

Eric didn’t want to imagine what his father would do to him if he could see him in that moment as every tiny hair of his pubis was falling to the floor of Venger’s bathroom.

The floating razor edge was even more disturbing. Eric knew that it would be so easy for it to start cutting flesh instead of hair. Once again, his virility was at the arch mage’s mercy.

He didn’t dare to look at Venger, overwhelmed by shame as he was. Eric knew he should have fought, keep resisting no matter what happened, but he had surrendered instead, allowing Venger to do whatever he had wanted with him. Was that mere survival instinct, or was it something more? Eric just didn’t know. He only knew that no matter how much he struggled, Venger would force him into whatever perversions he had in mind, just as he was doing in that precise moment.

“The silence I imposed you is over,” Venger told him. “You are free to speak now, Cavalier.”

Eric flinched; he always did with the sound of that voice he hated so much, now more than ever. He was also beginning to understand how much control that voice had over him.

“Be careful, or you will get hurt,” Venger continued, controlling with his finger the movement of the floating blade working on the young man’s crotch, adding more white foam from the floating wood bowl he controlled with his other hand.

Eric did his best to remain motionless as the humiliating shaving session continued. “I… I wanted to know when I’ll be allowed to leave.”

Venger smirked, leaning casually on the opened door of the bathroom. “Do you wish to leave the castle? You offend me, Cavalier.”

Eric bit his lips. “I did what you wanted. You… you had me as you wanted… I just want to go home, please…”

Venger chuckled. “Home? What home do you mean? The rough hills in which you and your friends wander like lost children, fooled by the empty promises of the Dungeon Master? Or, perhaps, you are talking about your real home?”

That did it. Eric lifted his head and looked at the arch mage, the slight hope of being back in his world again making him forget for a second the last three days, the worst of his life for sure.

“Pull up your penis.”

Eric obeyed, allowing the blade to free his testicles from any trace of hair. Useless, as that part of Eric’s anatomy had always been hairless, but he knew Venger was doing it only to humiliate him.

“Turn around and lean your hands on the floor. Good. Spread your legs as much as you can. More… more…”

That was so utterly degrading. Eric didn’t have hair in there… Ouch! Okay, maybe just a little…

“Did the Dungeon Master ever mention that I have the power to open portals to other dimensions?”

Eric stopped breathing. What the heck had that demon said? Eric dared to look between his spread legs and saw Venger looking at him with lust. Oh no, nonono, Venger had finished having his way with him just some minutes ago… Even an evil, degenerate creature as that one needed some rest after raping an innocent all night, didn’t he? Besides, Eric’s attention had been called and he was not willing to have that conversation with his ass exposed.

He carefully returned to a standing position and turned around.

“No,” he replied. “He never said anything about that.”

Venger sneered, showing his fangs. “Well, it’s nothing but the truth. I’m not surprised that the wicked old man decided to keep it as a secret. He plays with you and your friends with such audacity that the games you and I play seem so innocent in comparison.”

Games? Was it that simple for the disgusting monster? Eric was going to be traumatized all his life for those three days of hell, and it was nothing but a game for Venger?

A strong stream of tepid water fell on his crotch, cleaning the remains of the foam.

“Ah, you look so much better now…” Venger approved with a mischievous smile before using his magic to throw a close towel to his prisoner. “Dry yourself.”

Eric took it and began to dry his groin. “Is it true…?” he muttered. “Can you open a portal to my world?”

“Nothing could be easier. As a matter of fact, I already did it.”

Eric dropped the towel, all his embarrassment forgotten before the possibility of leaving that horrible place. “W… what…? W-when?”

Venger smirked. “Do you think that soap bar you used appeared out of nowhere? Or that towel? Also the bed and the other artifacts which I made my servants bring for you come from your very own world.”

“Where is that portal? Please tell me!”

“Closed, for the moment. Whether it opens again or not depends entirely on you.”

Oh, there was a trick… Of course there had to be a trick. It couldn’t be otherwise with Venger. “What do you mean?” Eric still asked.

“I think you know what I mean, my dear boy.”

Eric bowed his head. Of course he knew… he couldn’t keep playing the fool anymore, not after his ass had been pounded by Venger two nights in a row.

“So…” he said weakly, “the portal in exchange for my dignity…”

Venger burst out in laughter. “You make it sound so dramatic. You should be aware that your dignity, as you call it, is something that I can take whenever I want, whether you like it or not. You are mine now, remember? If you leave or if you stay will only depend on my mood. Surrender to me, and I may open that portal for you. Keep struggling and your fate will be so terrible that you will beg for death to release you.”

Eric felt a cold chill running through his spine. In other words, he had to consent to becoming Venger’s sexual toy… But even if he did, there was no guarantee that the villain would honor his word.

“Think about it. You have the rest of your life to decide. I have to go now to attend to my matters. Please make yourself comfortable during my absence. You can wander through this wing of the castle as you please, but I want you here as soon as the moon starts shinning. Did you understand?”

“Y-yes…” Eric muttered, totally overwhelmed by all the thoughts that were fighting inside his mind.

“Did you say something, boy?” Venger said darkly.

Eric bowed his head; his hands were trembling. “Yes… Master,” he said, defeated.

“Much better. Every living being in any universe has a dog and has an owner, Cavalier. Now you know your role.”

That’s the last thing Venger said before vanishing.

Eric’s tears fell down his cheeks as a pathetic testament of his dignity. He was being weak and he knew it. But what else could he do? He depended on Venger now, in body and soul, as the demon had said. He knew one thing for sure, though; he wasn’t worthy of being called Cavalier anymore.

To be continued.
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The Fifty Eight Days of Gomorrah