Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Hiromu Arakawa does. I only own the OC characters

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He heard the woman's voice first, and what she said caused his heart to beat faster in apprehension. "He's almost ready for auction," she said. "There's just one more thing we have to do. He's a virgin, so he'll have to be broken in."

Edward opened his eyes as much as he could in his hazy stupor. He looked up at the woman, who was staring down at him with a sly grin. He wanted to protest against what they were about to do, but his voice left him all of a sudden. He didn't want any part of what they were planning to do to him.

The man, Ricardo, smirked at the woman. "Why do I get the feeling that this is your favorite part of the job?"

The woman leaned over the young alchemist, stroking his cheek. "Oh, don't tell me that you don't enjoy it. I see it every time you get horny off of those girls. Just pretend that he's a woman."

"Still a child," he muttered. The dark-skinned man sighed. "Fine, just get on with it."

The woman grinned again. Slowly, she reached down to unbuckle Ed's belt, sliding off his pants and boxers so that they gathered at his ankles. She leapt onto the mattress, her legs wrapped around his hips. She undid the button on her pants, and slid those down along with her underwear as far as they could go. There were no layers between either of their exposed bodies.

The dark-skinned woman bent over Ed's face, her hands placed on the mattress on either side of his head. The boy's fingers twitched at his side, desperately trying to move to prevent what she was about to do. His heart racing, he mustered up as much strength as he could to breathe out the word, "No." The woman cocked her head to the side. "There's no need to be afraid, beansprout," she said, that grin still plastered on her face. "Even if it's unpleasant now, you'll learn to enjoy it." Her hand traveled down to grip the teen's length, forcing a whimper from deep within his throat. "Now," the woman continued, "will you be a good boy and moan for me?"

The woman methodically stroked her fingers along his extension, as well as probing the rest of his genital area. Ed could feel his cheeks burning up and turning pink at the contact. He had no strength to move his legs around, so he was helpless to whatever cruel treatment the woman would subject him to. "That's it, beansprout, you're getting the hang of it," the woman said. Ed looked up to see that her face was just as flushed as his. All of a sudden, he yelped when he felt his body betray him. The woman's grin grew wider as she seated herself on the teen. She released a moan of pleasure as she felt Ed's extension slide into her. "You feel so good for a kid, you know," she commented. She thrust back and forth, trying to elicit some sort of reaction from the blond. With his hands balled into fists, Ed let out a moan that he couldn't keep in any longer. His head was turned away and his eyes were screwed shut.

The woman smiled in pleasure when she finally got the boy to react in the way she wanted. After a few more thrusts, she eased off of his hips, pulling up her pants as she did so. "Your turn now. Feel free to treat him how you want. He's properly turned on."

"Fine by me, Sandra," he said to the woman, standing up to undo his own belt. Ed's stomach filled with dread. He wasn't done yet? He didn't want to experience this nightmare any more than he had to. His heart leapt into his throat as Ricardo positioned himself on top of him. Please, please make it quick, he begged in his mind. The dark-skinned man smirked down at him. "This may hurt, so brace yourself," he said. With that, he thrust himself inside of the boy's hole.

Ed cried out, and arched his back away from the shooting pain that blossomed inside of him. Ricardo thrust back and forth inside of him, tearing his hole enough to make him bleed. He came inside of the teen, some of the liquid spilling out onto the mattress. Tears gathered in Ed's eyes at the cruelty of this man who had him trapped in his grip. He lifted his hands so that he could press them against Ricardo's chest, trying to push him off. "Please, stop. It hurts," he whimpered out. The dark-skinned man just smiled down at him. "Like Sandra said, kid, you'll get used to it. You'll learn to enjoy the pain." He went back to violating the young alchemist, thrusting harder than ever before. Ed couldn't keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks anymore.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ricardo released the boy, letting his hot seed slip out onto the bed. He crawled off of Edward and retrieved his pants, slipping them on and zipping them up. Then he pulled Ed's pants and boxers completely off, and let them fall to the floor. "You'll be leaving first thing tomorrow, so you won't be needing these anymore," he said. He walked off, leaving the young alchemist in a sobbing, drug-infused wreck, lying in Ricardo's and his own foul fluids.

Sure enough, the next day (or at least what felt like the next day) someone other than Ricardo and Sandra showed up at his bedside. The world around him was blurry and muffled, the effects of the drugs still inside his system. He couldn't make out what anyone was saying. At some point, a new person that he didn't recognize started examining his automail arm. Then, something shiny flashed, and headed straight towards his metal limb.

The teen's heart sped faster. He felt someone tinkering with his automail, specifically between the limb itself and the shoulder port. After a few minutes of prodding, the metal prosthetic was expertly disconnected from his body. Ed's core resonated with dread. There was no way he was going to escape now without his alchemy. He felt like curling into himself to wait for rescue, a nagging thought in the back of his mind that told him that rescue was a preposterous notion at this point, and that he should give up on it now. Ed found it surprising how tempting and easy that was to accept.

The cold steel of the cuff on his left wrist was removed, releasing him from his bonds on the mattress. Different pairs of hands helped him to sit up and climb out of the bed, out of his own filth. To his dismay, as soon as his feet hit hard concrete, he realized that he could stand, although not very straight. It didn't matter; it wasn't like he had the strength to run anywhere anyway.

Immediately after he stood up, a heavy cloth was thrown over him. Panic started to bubble within him. Were they trying to suffocate him? No, someone was forcing his left arm through a sleeve. His drugged mind slowly came to the conclusion that they had tossed a cloak over his naked body. He didn't have much time to ponder about it until more hands gripped his shoulders and guided him to some unknown destination, pulling up the hood of his cloak as they went. They went down hallways, and probably a set of stairs. Ed wasn't too sure. The hood was pulled so low over his face that he couldn't see much of his surroundings. He could only make out a flash of bright light, probably sunlight, as they finally came outside. The teen was quickly ushered into a waiting black vehicle, sandwiched between two burly men in the middle of the seat. With a rumble, the car sped off down the road, taking him to god knew where.

Ed shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around him. He was all too aware that he was too far away now for anyone to find him. There would be no rescue. He was lost to everyone he ever cared about. It scared him more than anything, but he finally accepted it. He felt the tears roll down his cheeks again, realizing that this was what he deserved.

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As soon as the building had been cleared, Colonel Roy Mustang, along with his team, entered the terrorist hideout, one specific goal in mind. The colonel had warned the bastard what would happen if he messed with any part of his group, but he didn't heed it. Now his people were paying for it, being violently arrested for their crimes. The ones who didn't resist arrest were rounded up to be taken in for questioning. He hoped he didn't have to interrogate any of them, because that meant that his goal had been taken out of his reach. He simply could not have that.

From a side staircase of the old warehouse, Mustang ascended to the top floor, where the ground men had discovered that that was where the terrorists' prisoners were kept. If their intel was just as accurate as the location of this place, Fullmetal had to be here. When he reached the large windowless room, other military personnel followed after him, rushing to help whoever was left. Mustang paid no mind to them, however. There was only one in particular that he was looking for. He let all the background noise fade to the back of his mind.

"Over here! This one needs help!"

"What happened to this one?"

"She's dead. Nothing we can do about it now."

"Dead?! How?!"

"Drug overdose, most likely."

"Those fucking animals! How could they do this to a poor innocent girl?!"

No, none of it mattered until he found who he was looking for. With determined steps, Mustang maneuvered his way through the sea of mattresses and bedspreads, trying to catch a glimpse of bright golden hair. As if answering his thoughts, something glinted at the side of one of the mattresses. Hurrying toward it, his heart racing in anticipation, Roy closed the distance between himself and the shiny object. As he neared it, his hopes drained away by the second, like bathwater.

He slowly stopped next to the discarded metal appendage. After staring at it for a few seconds, he bent down and picked it up, weighing it in his hands. This was definitely Fullmetal's, no doubt about it. He had seen it enough times to recognize it. So, if this is here, then where's Edward? He slowly lifted his gaze to the mattress that the automail limb was lying next to, certain that this was where the blond boy was. What he saw sent a surge of dread through his body.

It was as if he was experiencing a nightmare brought to life. The sight of the filthy mattress full of blood, sweat, and semen made him want to throw up right then and there. However, he quelled down the nausea, and let a different emotion build up within him. Red hot rage bubbled up like an overheating kettle. Soon, it could no longer be contained, and he quickly slipped on his trademark ignition gloves. With a quick snap, the fabric of the mattress ignited into an inferno, sending all evidence of what had happened in it up in flames. He was too late.

As he watched the flames rage, he imagined the bastard that did this to Edward burning in a similar fashion.

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Author's Note: Edward, I'm so sorry! I really hate doing this to you. I wish I could just give him a hug already. I suppose it just further reminds me how insane I am.

I can tell that a lot of you are enjoying this series. It's nice to know I'm not the only insane person out there ;P Thank you all for your kind comments.

Praise is appreciated and constructive criticism is encouraged.

-The_Mayflower