Bucky looked down again, running his thumb over one of the marks. "The... The first time... was on my birthday. Only reason I knew was because they told me. Before that, I didn't know."
"Once every time..." He swallowed hard. "Started out with just one of them. I didn't know they were filming it, until later. Didn't realize what was happening at first, thought it was one of their little games. They liked to make a game out of making me do things. By that time, they were taking my clothes, piece by piece. After that, I was naked."
Bucky looked up, unaware of the tears in his eyes. "It got easier, in time. Only physically. Every time I thought I could get used to what they were doing to me.... it got worse. Raping me became part of their daily games. If I wanted to eat, they made me do things. Before, it was just degrading. Afterwards... it was dehumanizing. I was 'Buck' to them. No-Buck, sometimes. Like I was less than a whore, just some slave, something to stick their dick into."
Bucky shuddered. "I can't even bring myself to count them. I know they did it every time." The marks covered the insides of his thighs, the hatch marks rather small. "You keep telling me this wasn't my fault, but... It's hard for a few nice words to overwrite eight months of torture." He pulled back down the hem of his boxers and lifted his hand to his forehead.
He leaned forward, curling up and pressing his face into Penny's side. He started to cry, the relief of telling Steve almost outweighed by the memories of pain and utter, debilitating fear.
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"Once every time..." He swallowed hard. "Started out with just one of them. I didn't know they were filming it, until later. Didn't realize what was happening at first, thought it was one of their little games. They liked to make a game out of making me do things. By that time, they were taking my clothes, piece by piece. After that, I was naked."
Bucky looked up, unaware of the tears in his eyes. "It got easier, in time. Only physically. Every time I thought I could get used to what they were doing to me.... it got worse. Raping me became part of their daily games. If I wanted to eat, they made me do things. Before, it was just degrading. Afterwards... it was dehumanizing. I was 'Buck' to them. No-Buck, sometimes. Like I was less than a whore, just some slave, something to stick their dick into."
Bucky shuddered. "I can't even bring myself to count them. I know they did it every time." The marks covered the insides of his thighs, the hatch marks rather small. "You keep telling me this wasn't my fault, but... It's hard for a few nice words to overwrite eight months of torture." He pulled back down the hem of his boxers and lifted his hand to his forehead.
He leaned forward, curling up and pressing his face into Penny's side. He started to cry, the relief of telling Steve almost outweighed by the memories of pain and utter, debilitating fear.