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Happy Birthday?	By : Ender_Menon Category: +S through Z > The Sims Views: 4534 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sims 3. I make no money from writing this work.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
Shark had been laying on the mattress for what felt like hours. It had gotten completely dark outside, and the light bulb in the room had gone out. The lights in the rest of the syndicate were off as well, or at least in the hallway.
The only sound that could be heard was his heavy breathing. He wanted to get up and move, but he didn't think he was in any condition to do so. There was also the chance that his father or Sinbad would come back.
But so far that hadn't happened. Since he didn't know where in the building he was, Shark was resigned to merely laying there in the pitch black room. He wanted to fall asleep so badly, but something told him not to.
Soon, another sound could be heard nearby. Rather, the sound of footsteps and a voice.
"Fuck, I hate when the boss turns the power off for the night. 'Cuts back on the expenses', my ass." Hearing Sinbad's approaching voice made Shark's blood run cold. He was sure he was coming back to finish the job. The door opened, and the older man appeared, holding a lamp in one hand and a bucket with certain items in the other.
Shark opened his mouth to say something as Sinbad walked to the bed. Sinbad set the lamp onto a nearby table, and put a finger to his lips while shaking his head. He then knelt down by the mattress, then reached out to push Shark's hair away from his eyes.
"Not gonna lie, man. You look like hell." The perpetual scowl was still there, albeit a bit softer than usual. He pulled out the contents of his bucket: a small thermos, a carton of chocolate milk, a water bottle, a washcloth, and some rolled up clothes. Shark watched as he opened the bottle and poured water into the bucket. "Of course, seeing what you've just been through, I don't blame you."
Sinbad dipped the washcloth into the water when the bucket was partway filled. He then wrung out the excess and placed it onto Shark's face. Though the water was cold, the teen barely registered the sensation.
"If it were up to me, you'd get some actual medical help. But your old man don't want that fucking up his reputation, so this is the best I can do." Shark felt the washcloth travel downwards, wiping him clean. When it got too dry, Sinbad simply dipped it again. As he worked, Sinbad pulled the sheet down, slowly exposing Shark's skin.
Shark was barely receptive to it until Sinbad reached the area with the most damage. Then he stiffened up and whined. When Sinbad saw the change in behavior, he put a hand on the boy's cheek to reassure him. Reluctantly, Shark lifted himself up so he could be cleaned.
It was still uncomfortable and even painful to feel the washcloth on such a tender and tore-up place. Shark was mustering a lot of effort not to squirm. Even in the less than stellar glow of the lamp, he could see the blood on the cloth. He then felt Sinbad press a finger into his entrance, attempting to clean out any semen inside him. The teen bit his lip to keep from crying out.
The whole time, Shark felt something begin to rise up into his throat, a feeling that was only intensified when he felt the offensive fluid trickle out from him. Sinbad seemed to sense this, as he gently set Shark upright, and put the now empty bucket in front of him.
The redhead held the boy's hair back with one hand as Shark began expelling his stomach contents. He took a hold of the bucket, and Sinbad moved his free hand to rub the boy's back.
As dreaded, though expected, it was mostly seminal fluid. Shark's vomiting episode became so violent, he felt hot tears gather in his eyes. Sinbad had to get a hold of him to keep him from falling over. He held him steady until Shark managed to throw up most, if not all that he had in his stomach.
Sinbad then grabbed what he hadn't used, and set them in front of Shark one at a time, as he wiped any tears and vomit with the clean side of the washcloth. He waited until Shark stopped trembling, then he reached for the thermos and opened it.
Right away, the smell of homemade tomato soup hit Shark like a hammer to the face. His eyes began to water from how potent the scent was. He tried pushing the thermos away, but Sinbad insisted.
"Come on, man. I went to the trouble of making this crap. The least you can do is have a little." Fearful that Sinbad was getting angry, Shark opened his mouth and consumed the heated red liquid.
As expected, the taste was as strong as the smell. When the thermos was drained and pulled away, Shark coughed. At least he could be thankful that the liquid inside him now was made in a pot, and not another man's balls.
Then Sinbad opened the milk carton and handed it to him. It, too, was promptly drunk down. The contrast of hot and cold was oddly soothing. Shark actually wanted more of it, but didn't want Sinbad to leave him alone again. He also felt it would be rude by asking.
He didn't really have any time to ask, as now the redhead was busy unrolling the clothes he brought along. He slipped an oversized, faded black shirt over the boy's head, making sure to get the right limbs in the right holes. Shark then had to lift his legs up as he felt a pair of cotton shorts cover his lower half.
With nothing left to do or try, Shark leaned forward and buried his face into the now rumpled up sheet. He didn't care how filthy it probably was. His tears began to well up in his eyes again. Shark wanted to kick himself for showing so much emotion to a virtual stranger who had taken his virginity.
"Why...?" Through his blurring eyesight, Shark looked over at Sinbad as he trembled. "Why me?" Sinbad said nothing.
The teen let his tears drop onto the bedsheet. "How could he...? Why would he do this to me? I'm his son! Why? Just...why?" He wasn't entirely sure, but Shark thought he saw a pained look on Sinbad's face. He felt one of the older man's thumbs rub against his cheek, wiping his tears away.
Without really thinking, Shark reached out and wrapped his arms around Sinbad's neck. He pressed up against him, trying to feel some kind of warmth.
"Don't ask me, man. I was just following orders," Sinbad murmured as he got to his feet, lifting Shark up with him. The teen clung to him like a koala, desperate to hold onto his rapist-turned-savior.
"Look, let's just get you home, okay?" Shark tensed up at the mention of 'home', something that Sinbad noticed immediately. "Yeah, I know it ain't where you're wanting to go. But your old man's working late somewhere else tonight. So believe me when I say you'll be fine."
With that, Sinbad held Shark in place with one hand, and took hold of his lamp with the other. He walked out of the room, kicking the bucket Shark threw up in on the way.
The hallway was illuminated a bizarre orange color, thanks to the lamp. Sinbad was silent as he walked, the only sound that was heard being his footsteps. Once in a while, he stopped to readjust. It felt like an eternity before they made it to the entrance.
Shark looked over, and saw a black truck parked outside, presumably Sinbad's. Upon reaching the entrance, Sinbad set his lamp down and put it out. He then placed his other hand onto the back of Shark's head, and approached the passenger's side of the truck. The night, though dark, was unusually cold. Shark couldn't help but shiver.
"For what it's worth, man," Sinbad said, his words cutting into the silence of the night, "I'm sorry. Sorry you had to go through this." He opened the door and gently set Shark into the seat, which had a blanket and pillow ready to be used.
The boy felt himself wrapped up snugly. As Sinbad was propping the pillow up behind his head, Shark saw himself in the rearview mirror. His hair was frizzy, and messier than usual. His skin was pale, almost the color of a ghost. Under his eyes were large, dark circles. Shark looked to be but a mere shell of the person he was only hours before.
Shark curled up into a ball as Sinbad got into the driver's seat and got the truck started. He wanted to retreat into himself and not come back out. He looked through the dashboard window, seeing what the truck headlights lit up with their limited range.
"I want to die," Shark whispered as he buried his face into the blanket. "I want all this to be a nightmare, but...I know it isn't, and I want to die, so I don't have to deal with it, and, and-!" The teen began hiccuping, and sobbing. Sinbad stopped the truck in the middle of the road and took hold of Shark's shoulders.
"Knock that off!" Shark's ears hurt when Sinbad began yelling. "Don't fucking get worked up over this! That's the last thing you want to do! Don't ever let me hear you say that again, you hear me?"
Seeing Sinbad so angry caused Shark to tremble. He could only nod. The redhead's rage then subsided, replaced by concern and worry.
"You say that kind of shit...that means you're going to let your old man control you. Don't...He's already fucked you in one way. Don't let him fuck you over completely. Got it?" Shark nodded again. Sinbad then pulled back and resumed driving.
The rest of the ride there was in silence. When they reached the mansion, Shark hid his face into the blanket. He heard the truck door open on Sinbad's side, then his. The teen almost grabbed at the blanket as he felt it uncover him.
He was almost yanked out of the truck, shivering as his bare feet touched the cold ground. Sinbad led him down the pathway, with neither of them saying a word. Shark looked down at the ground, feeling like a condemned criminal being led to his execution.
The walk felt too long. The red brick underneath him looked strangely like the color of blood. The boy didn't even want to think about blood, seeing as he bled out of a place he didn't want blood to come out of. Yet it remained on his mind until the striking white of the front stairs came into his view.
Reluctantly, Shark followed Sinbad up the steps. The two stopped in front of the door, before Sinbad turned and placed his hands onto Shark's shoulders.
"What?" Shark was taken by surprise when Sinbad then pulled him in for a bear hug. Just as quickly as it happened, the redhead then let go and pushed the boy into the house. Shark didn't have any time to properly react before Sinbad made his way back down the stairs, running back towards his truck.
- 11
- 12
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