October 16th 2007 ECW Rape Night

It was late Tuesday night as CM Punk groggily got into his hotel room. He immediately collapsed onto the bed and thought that he should just sleep for the next couple of days. Not really caring, he slowly nodded off to sleep with his jeans and his new shirt.

<Punk’s dream>
Punk was in the same hotel room, but he seemed to have woken up sleeping in the arms of his lover, Kevin Thorn. They were holding each other, naked, as beads of sweat rolled down their chests. Kevin lightly kissed Punk’s forehead. Punk smiled and nuzzled his head into Kevin’s chest. Kevin chuckled and stroked his hair. It didn’t seem to matter that Punk had fang marks at the base of his neck. To him, it was only a love bite. (There was a random Kodama from “Princess Mononoke” sitting in the corner of the room chugging down a can of Pepsi.)

“Kevin, you love me, right?” Punk asked looking into his hypnotizing ice blue eyes. Kevin smiled and brought his lips to his. “Of course, Phil. I’ll always love you.” (Punk’s real name is Phil for those who don’t know). But slowly, Kevin began to fade away. Punk shot up. “Kev? Kevin! Kevin, no! Please, God, don’t leave me!” he screamed. “Kevin!” His eyes quickly weld up with tears. Punk felt someone shaking him. “Punk, Punk, Punk, wake up!”
<End dream>

Punk’s eyes opened to see the face of his worst enemy, John Morrison holding a gag, a nylon rope, and a navy bag full of God knows what. Punk tried to let out a scream, but John slapped his hand over his mouth.

“Shh!! Oh, come on, Punk, we don’t want to tire out your voice already.” With a struggle, John managed to tie Punk to the bed and put the gag over his mouth. Punk had a feeling of what Morrison planned on doing with him. Even though he was tied down tightly, Punk used all his might to try to break free. Morrison glared and slapped Punk hard across the face making Punk hiss in pain and stop moving.

“Punk, knock it off! I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” John said grabbing Punk’s jaw forcefully. “Huh?” Punk muffled eyes full of fear and started to water. Morrison threw back Punk’s head, letting go of his jaw.

“First, you start off the night by saying to me, ‘Gentlemen…and I use that term lightly.” Punk wanted to laugh, but was afraid of what Morrison would do to him if he did. “Then, you use Kane as a tag team partner. Then, you humiliated me by beating the living Hell out of me! As you may know, Punk, no one makes me look like an idiot and gets away with it.” He smirked and got close to Punk’s face. “So, you know what I’m going to do, Punk?” Punk shook his head.

Morrison went over to the bag and pulled out a pair of scissors. Punk cocked his head confused. He put the scissors to Punk’s shirt and started to cut it off. Punk’s eyes got wide and started to struggle out of the ropes again. After Morrison got Punk’s shirt cut off his body, he slapped Punk on the same cheek again.

“If, you struggle like that, I swear to God, I will make this even more unbearable for you than I had planned.” He threatened. Punk didn’t move a muscle. Morrison looked down at Punk’s exposed torso and slowly ran his fingers down his chest. Punk took in a quick gasp of air. It felt so pleasuring, but this was John effin’ Morrison. What the Hell?

Morrison took the scissors and placed them right at the top of Punk’s jeans. Punk shook his head. He smirked and nodded and started cutting down the pant leg and soon getting to the other. When the thick shreds of denim were off, Punk was only left in his grey “Nightmare Before Christmas” boxers. Morrison set the scissors down and laid down next to Punk on the bed. He smirked and started gently rubbing Punk’s length.

Punk looked away, eyes shut tight. “You like this, don’t you, Punk?” Punk’s eyes started to form tears. The only man he ever had been with was Kevin. He couldn’t stand being in bed with this crazy, self-centered son of a bitch. After awhile, Morrison lightly squeezed Punk’s balls making Punk gasp. After a few more squeezes Punk let out a muffled scream as his cum stained his boxers. John Morrison got up and quickly took off his shirt to reveal his naturally perfect body. Punk had to admit, even though John Morrison had a face that only his mother could love, he had a gorgeous body.

Just the sight of him made Punk get hard. Morrison took off his pants wearing only his plain black boxers. He looked at Punk and laughed. Punk tried to move his hand down, but he was still tied. “So, I turn you on do I?” Morrison made his way over to Punk who was rapidly shaking his head. “ Huh. Well, this,” he gently stroked Punk’s hard cock, “says different.” Punk gasped. Morrison took the scissors and, as he did to Punk’s shirt and jeans, he did the same to his boxers. Of course, he couldn’t help but look down at Punk noting that, not only didn’t Punk drink, smoke, or take drugs, but he also didn’t shave either.

John Morrison went over to the bag and pulled out several objects that Punk couldn’t see ‘til he set them down on the night stand. Punk’s eyes widened in horror as he saw a leather whip, a rather scarily large dildo, and a bottle of lubricant. “First things first.” Morrison quickly slipped out of his boxers, sat down on the bed between Punk’s legs, and started to slick his fingers with the lubricant. Tears started to swell up in Punk’s eyes. “Prepare yourself, Punkers.” He smiled shoving a finger into Punk’s tight hole making Punk hiss in pain. His one finger turned into two, but it was the third finger that made Punk scream as John stretched him. He took out his fingers and put some of the lube in his hand.

Morrison took his own cock in his hand and started running his hand up and down his shaft. He positioned himself almost sitting back on his legs, placing his hands on Punk’s hips, the head of his cock just brushing against Punk’s entrance. Morrison let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, Punk, I’ll make it as pleasurable as possible.” And with that he slowly pushed his dick into Punk’s tight ass. Tears started to roll down Punk’s cheeks as Morrison kept a slow steady pace going in and out. Morrison started to quicken his pace going faster and faster making Punk scream and letting out “fuck” and “shit” every now and then.

John started breathing more unsteadily as he began to reach his climax. “Punk, fuck. I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum.” He made two more quick thrusts and shot his seed in Punk’s ass with a sharp gasp. He just sat there with his dick up his ass for a second trying to catch his breath. He slowly took it out and collapsed on top of Punk’s chest. He laughed. “God…that…felt good.” He got out between breaths. He looked at Punk’s tear stained face and couldn’t help, but feel kind of bad for him.

He reached up and took the gag off Punk’s mouth. “Oh, good Lord. That fuckin’ hurt!” Punk yelled. “Shh!...Punk…Phil, I’m…I’m sorry.” Punk smiled. “John, could you untie me, please?” John gave him a skeptical look. “I won’t leave. I…I love you.” John’s eyes lit up.

“I love you, too, Phil.” He got up and speedily removed the rope from around his wrists and ankles. He laid down next to Punk and wrapped his arms around him. “Hey, John, do you think you could roll over so I could wrap my arms around your sexy abs?” John smiled flattered. “Sure.” He rolled over on to his side

“Hey, John, you know what I think of you now?” John looked over his shoulder into Punk’s emerald green eyes. “What’s that, Phil?” Punk made an evil smirk as he forcefully pulled one of John’s legs up and he positioned himself. “I think that you’re still a self-absorbed idiot.” And with that, he thrust his cock hard and fast in and out of John Morrison’s hole making him scream, “Fuck! I hate you! I hate you!”

“I know, I hate you too.” Punk said with a smile. It didn’t take long for Punk to meet his climax and cum hard into John Morrison’s ass. Surprisingly, when Punk pulled out, blood followed the string of cum from John’s hole. Punk had thrust so hard that he tore him inside. Punk got up and got dressed and looked back at John Morrison writhing in pain on the bed in a puddle of blood and cum.

Punk kneeled down on the side of the bed. John scowled at him. “You’ll pay for this…” he managed to say threateningly, his breathing uneven. Punk smiled. “I’m sure I will, John. I’m sure I will.” He stood up and was about to leave. “Oh, by the way, I’d rather you slam by back onto your leg in a match. Not my stomach. Tonight’s match, I felt like you were just going to stop what you were doing and spank me. And, don’t you dare rape me again. The only person I’ll ever love is Kevin.” He opened the door and walked away, leaving an abused John Morrison in the room alone and in agonizing pain. All was right with the world.