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“Up,” Wen Chao says. His guards pull Wei Wuxian up, leading him out of the dungeon. Wei Wuxian gives the giant dog a nervous glance as he turns away and lets himself be led out, trying to gather his feet under him.
“What’s this, Chaochao?” Wei Wuxian asks, mockingly. He pauses to cough, spit phlegm and blood onto the ground, the last vestiges of his almost-battle with the dog. The iron shackles around his neck and wrists jangle loudly, echoing in the empty halls. “Little Chaochao decided he needed a better weiqi opponent?”
“You may be laughing now,” Wen Chao sneers. “But you won’t be soon.” He veers around the corner, pushing his way into another closed-off room.
The guards shove Wei Wuxian in, letting him fall into the room himself. Without the use of his hands, Wei Wuxian stumbles in, falling to his knees, and barely catching himself.
“The Wen Clan has such decorous hospitality for visiting disciples,” Wei Wuxian snaps. His wrists twinge a bit from taking the brunt of the impact of his fall, and the shackles cut into his wrists.
“Wei Wuxian!”
Wei Wuxian’s heart drops at the sound of Jiang Cheng’s voice. No — it couldn’t — but he turns and sees Jiang Cheng, still dressed in the outfit he saw him in this morning, tied to an ornate chair with deity-binding ropes.
“Jiang — !”
Wen Chao slaps the back of Wei Wuxian’s head, cutting him off. The force immediately stops him from speaking, in shock from the suddenness of it. His head throbs, a dull ache that reminds him of Yu furen’s constant reprimands.
“It seems the Jiang Clan have been missing some vital teaching,” Wen Chao proclaims. He takes long, prideful strides towards Jiang Cheng, sneering down into his face. “Thankfully, the Wen Clan have been gracious enough to lend the Jiang Clan Heir and his head disciple the time to learn such crucial information.”
Wei Wuxian pulls himself up, kneeling on the floor. The chains feel heavier than normal, draining him of spiritual energy. His cheek feels numb. Though he’s flirted with plenty of maidens throughout Yunmeng, not one had ever slapped him to try to stop his teasing. He feels the shame digging into his spine.
“Wen Chao!” Jiang Cheng growls. “You’re overstepping!”
But Wen Chao acts as if he hasn’t heard Jiang Cheng. He grabs Jiang Cheng’s face, one hand squeezing the cheeks tight, distorting his handsome countenance in an undignified manner.
“Jiang Wanyin,” Wen Chao says. “I’ve seen the way Wei Wuxian acts around you. I’ve seen how he walks all over you, like he’s more than just your shixiong. Tell me, Jiang Wanyin, does that not grate on you?”
Wei Wuxian bites back a retort, watches as Jiang Cheng keeps quiet. There’s a pit in his stomach that grows when Jiang Cheng says nothing to deny it.
“It should be such an honor to you that the Wen Clan are so willing to teach the Jiang Clan our ways,” Wen Chao continues, releasing him. “Be grateful.”
“What ways do you speak of?” Jiang Cheng says, voice low.
Wei Wuxian tries to stand. “Jiang Cheng, don’t listen —” but the guards behind him kick him down and hold him there, hands pressed firmly on his shoulders, his arms pulled out in front of him.
Wen Chao smiles; it’s a terrible one, all teeth and cruelty. “Ways to treat a subordinate, Jiang Wanyin,” he says and snaps his fingers.
From the corner, Wen Zhuliu snaps to attention, making his way to where Wei Wuxian is pinned under two guards.
“What’s this?” Wei Wuxian says, keeps his fear tucked tightly behind gritted teeth. The guards move away and Wen Zhuliu pulls Wei Wuxian up by his hair — a yelp escapes. “Making your mindless dog do all your dirty work, Chaochao? What kind of —”
Wei Wuxian gasps in pain, head whipping back from another hand to his face. He blinks back tears, ears ringing.
“Pay attention Jiang Wanyin,” Wen Chao says from next to Jiang Cheng. “Wen Zhuliu knows exactly what to do at my command.” He leans in close to Jiang Cheng, whispers something into Jiang Cheng’s ear, leering, and Wei Wuxian watches Jiang Cheng choke in reaction.
There’s a hook attached to a chain embedded into the ceiling that Wei Wuxian hadn’t noticed before. Wen Zhuliu grabs the chain connecting the shackles around his wrist and pulls him up, shoulders straining from the pressure, until he’s nearly standing with his full weight on his toes. He bites back a pained groan and tries to breathe despite the heavy shackle around his neck, pulling his head back with its weight. The blood roars in his ears, heart beating furiously. He feels pinned, he feels stretched out, he feels like a thing.
“What? You Wen dogs need to make sure your victims are tied up before you can beat them?” Wei Wuxian asks. He clicks his tongue. “Here I was, thinking that the Wen wouldn’t stoop to such lowly tactics.”
Wen Chao laughs, startlingly loud in the cavernous room. “Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian,” he crows. “You think we’d do such a thing?”
Wei Wuxian keeps his grin plastered on his face, even as Wen Zhuliu shuffles in front of him. But it falters when Wen Zhuliu’s hands start pulling at the skirts of his robes, moving them aside.
“Hey — wait, what are you doing?”
And then his trousers are on the floor. Wei Wuxian can’t even try to pin the trousers in place with his feet before Wen Zhuliu is kicking them away, easily done with Wei Wuxian barely touching the ground. Though he’s only lost his trousers, he already feels naked and vulnerable.
“Get him ready,” Wen Chao says, a lecherous grin stretching his lips.
“Wha—”
His cheek stings as Wen Zhuliu slaps him again, keeping his attention forward and silent. He feels dizzy, from the brunt force and the multiple hits to his face.
And then Wen Zhuliu is sticking two fingers in Wei Wuxian's mouth, reaching deep enough to choke him.
Wen Chao peers over Wen Zhuliu’s shoulders, smirking when he sees Wei Wuxian struggling.
“See this, Jiang Wanyin?” Wen Chao says, turning to Jiang Cheng. His voice sounds far away, like he’s across the room, voice muffled behind a privacy screen. “Each time you need to focus, each time you need quiet, you can use your hand — even in various ways!”
When Wen Zhuliu deems his fingers wet enough, he moves behind Wei Wuxian, cold hands parting his ass.
“What are you — !” Wei Wuxian gasps, jerking away from Wen Zhuliu when, instead of hitting him in the face, Wen Zhuliu slaps him across his ass. He stops, squirms, immediately tries to move away, but Wen Zhuliu grips Wei Wuxian’s hips and pulls him back easily. It wasn’t so much the pain, as it was very minimal, but Wei Wuxian feels ashamed, horrified that Wen Zhuliu would hit him in such a way. He wants to get away, wants out of the chains, wants out of his nakedness, wants the shame flooding his insides to leave.
But he knows it’s only just started.
A cold finger probes the rim of Wei Wuxian’s hole and he jerks in surprise, muffling a yelp. He’s never even touched himself there, never even considered it, and now, Wen Zhuliu’s finger was pushing into Wei Wuxian like it had a right to be there, pushing past the friction and Wei Wuxian’s own tense muscles.
The finger pushes in deep, hard; it’s the largest thing he’s had going into him like this and it’s utterly uncomfortable and a little painful, with him tensing. He squeezes his eyes shut, to try to keep the tears from falling.
Wen Zhuliu doesn’t pay attention to how Wei Wuxian is reacting, to how he’s tearing up at the sensation, to how he’s trying to keep his muffled whines and pained groans under wrap. The finger just continues and Wei Wuxian can’t imagine anything bigger going into him like this.
Wen Chao moves, peers down at Wen Zhuliu’s work, one hand lifting Wei Wuxian’s robe away from obscuring the show.
“Not bad,” Wen Chao says. He turns to Jiang Cheng. “With a rowdy subordinate like this, you may need to be a bit more forceful,” he says, grinning. “Though I’m sure you may already know this, given your relationship.”
“You — !” Jiang Cheng cries out. But he’s largely ignored as Wen Chao lets out an uproarious laugh.
Wen Zhuliu’s finger picks up, pushing a louder groan from Wei Wuxian, which immediately turns into a yelp when Wen Zhuliu slaps his ass again, cutting his cries short. Wei Wuxian seethes, hates that he’s being silenced like an unruly child.
The steady pace seems to go on forever, until finally, Wen Zhuliu pulls his finger out, leaving Wei Wuxian empty and cold and lax in his chains.
“He’s ready,” Wen Zhuliu says.
Ready? Wei Wuxian thinks. He only has time to briefly wonder what he’s ready for when Wen Chao stalks over, untying the front of his robes to reveal a hard cock, and dread and fear fills him.
Wen Chao spins Wei Wuxian around, his whole weight dangling on his wrists — a bitten yelp dying in his throat — and slides into Wei Wuxian, his cock already wet with something slimy. The head of his cock pushes against the rim, pushes in without question, and takes shape inside Wei Wuxian, heavy and obtrusive, large and wide.
Wei Wuxian can’t get away. He feels too full, too open, too used, but Wen Chao doesn’t care. His hands circle Wei Wuxian’s hips in a bruising grip and he moves, thrusting in and out in a quick, violent pace. Each push and pull slides against his inner walls, rubbing agonizingly hot and tight, it’s almost painful. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really say much else, to fight back or to taunt Wen Chao. The energy-draining shackles have pulled his body’s spiritual energy out, and being strung up by his wrists slapped around doesn’t help him regain his footing either.
“See this?” Wen Chao calls out, breath hot against Wei Wuxian’s ear. “When your subordinate is being a disturbance and acting up, you make sure to discipline him. You make sure he remembers the lesson.”
Each word is punctuated with a hard thrust. Wei Wuxian bites his lips to keep from crying out, but as much as he squeezes his eyes shut, he knows he’s leaking tears. From the corner of his eye, Jiang Cheng is straining against his bonds, calling his name.
“He’d make such a good whore for you. Right, Jiang Wanyin?” Wen Chao taunts, breathing hard. “Just keep him ready and open for you. When he’s disobedient, just put him on his knees and fuck his mouth quiet. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Wei Wuxian tunes out the taunts and Jiang Cheng’s angry shouting, tries to think of anything else but what Wen Chao is saying, tries to keep the humiliating image of himself being kept for this purpose pushed to the back of his mind. It’s difficult to grasp onto something to keep from being too touched by the words, but the flutter of Jiang Cheng’s robes catches in such a way that reminds him of Lan Zhan’s robes and how he’d descended like an angry god on that first night they met.
Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian thinks. He locks onto Lan Zhan, thinks of his hypnotizing eyes, the ever-so-slight curl of his lips when he decimated another disciple with just words, the way he huffed when he turned away to hide amusement, his beautiful elegant hands hovering over the qin. He keeps his mind focused on Lan Zhan because it’s easy for him to picture Lan Zhan holding onto him — and maybe even a little pleasurable to think of Lan Zhan doing this with him, in another life.
It seems like it takes eons until Wen Chao finally comes, hands tightening around his hips, warmth flooding Wei Wuxian’s insides. Wen Chao pulls out, leaving Wei Wuxian feeling bereft and empty, wet, hot come sliding down his ass.
As Wen Chao tucks his cock away, he turns to Jiang Cheng.
“That’s how you discipline such a disobedient subordinate,” Wen Chao says, leering. Then, he motions to Wen Zhuliu. “Another word of advice, Jiang Wanyin,” he adds. “For when your subordinates do follow orders.”
Wen Chao beckons Wen Zhuliu closer and gives him a sharp nod.
“As a reward for your efforts, Wen Zhuliu,” Wen Chao says, “you may have a turn.”
Hearing that, Wei Wuxian tries to move away from Wen Zhuliu’s heavy footsteps, knowing full well he couldn’t go anyway.
“No,” Wei Wuxian shouts. “No! Leave me alone!”
But Wen Zhuliu easily pulls the chains keeping Wei Wuxian strung up like a slab of meat and lets him fall onto the ground, crashing hard onto his knees with a yell and a bruising sting that seems to crack through his kneecaps. Before Wei Wuxian can even think to move or even test to see if he could move, Wen Zhuliu pins Wei Wuxian on his front and uses Wen Chao’s leftover come to slip inside, feeling larger and thicker than even Wen Chao.
“Fuck! Fuck you Chaochao! Fuck you, you groveling dog! Can’t you think for yourself?” Wei Wuxian gasps, as Wen Zhuliu picks up the pace. Wen Zhuliu acts as if Wei Wuxian hasn’t said a single word, as if he were merely a hole for him to use.
“You see?” Wen Chao continues, gesturing to where Wen Zhuliu is fucking hard into Wei Wuxian. “This is one easy way to reward your most high-ranking and disciplined subordinates.”
“Enough!” Jiang Cheng shouts. When Wei Wuxian manages to catch a glimpse of his shidi through a mess of snot and tears, he can see that Jiang Cheng is completely red in the face, flushed with anger. His hands and neck, where the ropes rub against skin, are scratched red from his struggles.
“What is it, Jiang Wanyin?” Wen Chao mocks. “Would you like a turn too? Is that why you’re so eager to get out of those ropes?”
Jiang Cheng sputters red, shuts his mouth, obviously horrified at the insinuation. But Wen Chao doesn’t care, he just lets out another laugh.
Feeling disgust and rage rising through him, Wei Wuxian tries again.
“Chaochao,” Wei Wuxian says. “Maybe you’re only suggesting that because you know your own dick wouldn’t be able to satisfy anyone! Why, even your bootlicking dog’s dick is larger than yours!”
Wen Chao spins to face Wei Wuxian, so red in the face that Wei Wuxian can almost see steam floating between his ears. Then, before Wei Wuxian can think or say anything else, Wen Chao backhands him, sparking stars behind his eyes.
Wei Wuxian gasps and blinks back tears, tries to compartmentalize the pain blooming on his face, tries to ignore the thick, heavy cock sliding in and out of him. He can barely move without biting back a scream, kneecaps likely shattered or at least heavily injured.
Wen Zhuliu pushes Wei Wuxian’s head down so he’s nearly kissing the stone floor and then he’s coming, bruising wet heat flooding his insides.
“It’s too bad you were born a man,” Wen Chao leers at him, after. His thumb pulls at Wei Wuxian’s lips, pushing into his mouth before Wei Wuxian can think. He’s too numb and too much in pain to respond, still feeling the ache between his legs.
“You have a whore’s lips,” Wen Chao continues. “Doesn’t he, Wen Zhuliu?”
Wei Wuxian can’t see Wen Zhuliu but he assumes the other man nods, because Wen Chao laughs and then pulls out his cock — hard again, after watching Wei Wuxian get fucked.
“Well?”
Wei Wuxian stares at the head of Wen Chao’s dick. It seems to mock him, tilting its head as if to challenge him to bite its head off. Wei Wuxian tries to push himself away from the cock, but Wen Chao’s hands holds the back of his head still, firm.
Wei Wuxian spits onto his shoes.
A cloud storms over Wen Chaos’ features.
“How dare you,” Wen Chao sneers. He pries Wei Wuxian’s mouth open, hands grappling at Wei Wuxian’s head like it doesn’t matter if a thumb nearly digs into his eyes. “You bite me, Wei Wuxian, and your tongue comes off.” And he makes space in Wei Wuxian’s mouth for his cock, fucking in hard and fast.
Wei Wuxian immediately chokes, cock filling his mouth with barely room to breathe. He heaves, tries to swallow back a gag. He’s never had anything like this in his mouth. Even Wen Zhuliu’s finger was foreign. Sure, he’s seen plenty of pornography where this act was being done — it had always looked so pleasurable from the taker’s side, but here, Wen Chao was unapologetically forcing Wei Wuxian to pleasure him, without remorse, without a way out.
“Well? Go on then,” Wen Chao says.
Wei Wuxian can feel Wen Zhuliu behind him, maneuvering his body up so that he is on his hands and knees. His knees scream in pain as he rests on them, and he squirms, trying to relieve the pain. But Wen Zhuliu’s firm hand on his hips prevents him from moving, and he realizes why when Wen Zhuliu enters him again.
His body screams at him, but he can’t move, can’t get away. Wei Wuxian hangs there, balanced between Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu, as they both fuck in and out of his holes. He’s nothing to them, he thinks. Just something to use and discard. The hand on his hip tightens and Wei Wuxian squirms, knowing the telltale sign that Wen Zhuliu is coming — and sure enough, he’s filled again.
Wen Chao quickly follows, coming once more, but he keeps his cock embedded deep in Wei Wuxian’s mouth, as far as it could go. The come floods Wei Wuxian’s mouth, forcing him to swallow. It’s disgusting, salty and bitter. When Wen Chao pulls out, Wei Wuxian spits the rest of it onto the stone floor.
“What’s this?” Wen Chao leers. He backhands Wei Wuxian again. “Don’t you know? That when your masters give you food, you make sure to eat every grain of rice? That when your masters give you drink, you make sure to drink every last drop? Wen Zhuliu!”
Wen Zhuliu pushes Wei Wuxian’s head towards the spilled come, close enough that Wei Wuxian could blink and smear come on his eyelashes.
“Drink,” Wen Chao sneers.
Wei Wuxian immediately tries to get up, but Wen Zhuliu slams a boot between his shoulders, and he cries out, face planting into the puddle of come.
“Drink,” Wen Chao says again. “I won’t repeat it, and you may not like what happens if you disobey.” He looks over at Jiang Cheng as he says this, a carnivorous grin disorienting his face.
Wei Wuxian glances over at Wen Chao and then at Jiang Cheng, who is gritting his teeth and shaking his head, pleading with wet eyes for Wei Wuxian to say no. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, knows his answer, and begins licking the flooring.
“Good boy,” Wen Chao says, pleased.
When, after, Wei Wuxian’s stomach roils and the floor is clean of come, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu and the guards stalk out of the cell, leaving Wei Wuxian in his messy robes and Jiang Cheng still tied to the chair.
“Hang on,” Wei Wuxian says, dragging himself over to Jiang Cheng. His voice sounds wrecked. “I’ve got you.”
His arms shake with strain as he works to untie the ropes. It takes longer than normal, but he does, and once Jiang Cheng is free, Jiang Cheng immediately grabs a hair stick, reaching over to free Wei Wuxian from the shackles around his wrists and neck.
“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng says, when they’re free from the ties holding them imprisoned in their bodies. He, too, sounds wrecked, but for a different reason.
Wei Wuxian shudders as Jiang Cheng’s arms encircle him. The two of them melt into each other and Wei Wuxian tucks his face into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, wincing a little at the pained stretch in his shoulders, at the throbbing burn between his legs.
“It’s okay,” Jiang Cheng says, arms tightening around Wei Wuxian. “It’s okay,” he repeats and ignores the steadily wet sleeves on both their robes. “We’ll be okay.”