Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 403

Chapter 403: ’Help Me. Please.’

Trigger Warning: This Chapter contains intense psychological trauma, physical violence, sexual assault, and emotionally disturbing content. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

"Do you like that?"

STOP.

STOP.

STOP.

The leader’s voice was a low, taunting whisper, his breath hot against Florian’s neck. His tongue flicked out, tracing a wet, deliberate line up the side of Florian’s throat.

PLEASE.

STOP.

PLEASE!

Florian shuddered violently, his body trembling as sobs wracked him.

His wrists burned from the ropes that bound him, the skin raw and bleeding from his desperate struggles. His ankles were no better, the coarse fibers digging into his flesh with every futile tug.

"Please...Please, stop. I-I’m begging you..."

The laughter around him was deafening, a cacophony of cruel amusement that made his stomach churn. Hands were everywhere—groping, pinching, pulling at his clothes, at his skin.

He felt like a piece of meat, something to be devoured, and the thought made bile rise in his throat. ’This isn’t happening... this can’t be happening...’

"We haven’t even gotten to the best part," one of the men sneered, his voice dripping with malice. A hand closed around Florian’s member, and his eyes flew open wide, panic surging through him like a tidal wave.

"NO! NO! STOP!" He thrashed against his restraints, his legs kicking out wildly, but it was no use.

The ropes held firm, and the sharp crack of a hand against his cheek sent stars exploding across his vision.

"Stop fucking moving, you whore!" the leader barked, his voice sharp and commanding. Florian cried out, the pain radiating from his face down to his very core.

"Heinz..."

His body felt like it was on fire, every touch, every bite, every lick leaving a searing mark on his skin. ’Heinz... Heinz... Heinz...’ The name echoed in his mind like a mantra, a desperate plea for salvation.

Why was he thinking of Heinz? Why did the thought of him make this feel... less unbearable?

Why?

He didn’t know.

All he knew was he held onto Heinz’s name like a lifeline.

"Heinz...please...Heinz..."

The leader’s hand covered Florian’s mouth, muffling his cries. He could see the man’s pants being undone, the glint of hunger in his eyes as he licked his lips.

’No... no... please...’ Florian’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of his helplessness. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the sight, the sounds, the sensations.

HEINZ.

HEINZ.

HEINZ.

"The king ain’t coming for ya," the leader sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Now be a good little boy and keep your mouth shut, so I can at least enjoy myself." Florian could feel the man’s hand moving, the sickening sound of skin against skin making his stomach turn.

’Heinz... please... Heinz...’

And Florian felt it.

He felt a disgusting thing touch his behind.

It was coming, and Florian had no choice but to accept it.

’Heinz...Heinz...please. Help me. Please.’ Florian thought, he was practically choking on his own tears. He was starting to black out. He could barely hear it when the leader said.

"Here we go—"

And then—BOOM!

The explosion was deafening.

A thunderous blast ripped through the walls, shaking the ground violently beneath them. Dust and debris flew everywhere, blinding and disorienting. The light above flickered, casting erratic shadows across the room.

The hand covering Florian’s mouth was gone.

"What the fuck was that?!" one of the men shouted, his voice laced with panic.

And then—another voice.

"We’re under attack!"

The sound of footsteps thundered across the halls. Screams followed. Metal clashed with metal. Chaos erupted.

But Florian—he could barely register any of it.

His head lolled to the side, his chest rising in shallow, uneven breaths. His ears rang with a distorted thrum, and all he could hear clearly was the pounding of his own heartbeat. Each beat felt slower, heavier.

’Am I... being saved...? Or... am I dying?’

He couldn’t tell.

His vision blurred, doubled. The dim, swaying light above him seemed to drift farther and farther away. His fingers twitched weakly against the bindings, his body trembling from exhaustion and blood loss.

Shapes moved—blurred figures darting across his vision. Then one shadow stepped forward.

The leader.

His face was twisted in rage and fear, but his movements were deliberate. He raised something—a glint of silver caught the light.

’No... no, what is he doing...?’

Pain.

A deep, burning pain erupted in Florian’s abdomen as the dagger pierced him. His mouth opened in a silent scream, but no sound came out. Just more blood trickling down his chin. His body didn’t even react beyond a twitch.

’He... stabbed me... again...?’

The figure retreated, and Florian could no longer follow where he went. His gaze drifted upward.

Everything was so loud. So far away.

Through his nearly closed lids, Florian saw something—someone—walking through the fire. A tall, dark silhouette, power crackling around them like a storm given form.

"Hei...nz...?"

✧༺ ⏱︎ ༻✧

Let it. He didn’t care.

’That voice... it’s him. It’s Florian.’

It wasn’t a hallucination—he knew it wasn’t. Because the moment he heard it, Azure suddenly roared and changed course, wings slicing through the air as it veered toward the voice with frightening speed.

And something inside him snapped.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify