
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4593591.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      ジョジョの奇妙な冒険_|_JoJo_no_Kimyou_na_Bouken_|_JoJo's_Bizarre_Adventure
  Relationship:
      Dio_Brando/Other(s)
  Character:
      Dio_Brando, Dario_Brando, Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Prostitution, Child_Abuse, Gang_Rape, Intercrural_Sex, Blow
      Jobs, Spit_As_Lube, Heavy_Angst, Loss_of_Virginity
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-17 Words: 3735
****** Purpose ******
by tokkee
Summary
     Young Dio Brando is forced to do whatever is necessary to obtain
     drinking money for his father.
Notes
     This is the first time I've tried writing Dio. I struggled a bit
     writing how his thought processes work in terms of converting any
     emotion he may have into anger and arrogance. Any critique is
     welcome!
See the end of the work for more notes
It was impossible to tell just how late it was; the street lamps had been lit
hours ago and the bar crowd was dwindling. Dio sat silently, legs crossed, idly
rolling a chess piece between his fingers as his lazy stare eyed the other
patrons. Not one person challenged him to a game that night. The young boy made
it a point to visit different establishments every day to keep from becoming
too familiar. He was damn good at what he did. He was damn good at what  ever
he did, and he knew it. Dio of course wanted the entire world to know this in
some regards, but no smart man wants to go against an opponent they deem
unbeatable when money is on the line.
Two sets of footsteps approached him from his side, but Dio did not break his
forward gaze.
"You that Brando boy we've heard about?" The blonde snorted.
"Depends. How much money you willing to wager?"
"We are not here to wager money, though we certainly have enough to pay for a
job well done."
Dio's hand stopped. He put the chess piece down onto the table.
"Word is you've got a talented mouth on you," one man said a bit softer than
before as not to draw any attention. "Six shillings each. We'll even pay for a
room upstairs."
The blonde boy finally turned to look at the two men. They were both middle-
aged, both of similar heights with homely faces. If it wasn't obvious before by
their thick accents, their worn clothing and dark blotchy skin signaled them of
being manual day laborers. Dio rarely lowered himself to the lower working
class (despite being poorly-off himself), but he had nothing to take him to his
father tonight. The bastard would beat him within an inch of his life if he
returned empty-handed. Twelve shillings would buy him enough alcohol to be
content for days. It was a tough offer to refuse.
"Fine then," he agreed. "Buy the nicest room they've got and you have a deal."
The men left momentarily to purchase a stay at the inn on the second floor of
the bar. When Dio saw them climbing the staircase, he followed suit. His heart
was beating wildly in his chest; whether from excitement or fear, he was not
sure. He had resorted to performing oral sex on drunken bar patrons after a
night of a particularly bad punishment from his father for not earning enough
money. Men were willing to pay a pretty penny to have him suck them off.
Occasionally he found it degrading, but usually he tried not to think about it
too much. Anything was worth a sparing of his father's incessant yelling and
fist-swinging. It was aggravating and degrading. Dio prided himself too much to
permit being treated so lowly.
After entering the inn room, one of the men locked the door behind him. It was
a bit dirty with rough wood flooring and little else than a bed and a vanity
table. Despite, it suited its purpose.
"You'd both best be washed and clean," Dio muttered as he pulled the long hair
on his nape back into a small ponytail using a ribbon in his pocket. "Put the
money on the table and I'll get to it."
The sound of metal coins clinking against hollow wood filled the room for a
moment while one of the men sat down on the bed, unbuckling his pants.
"I'm only doing this once, one at a time, and I'm doing nothing more. I also do
not swallow. Do not touch me, either." Dio sat down on the bed next to the man.
"Why aren't you on your knees?" the man asked, sounding slightly perturbed.
"I don't get on my knees for anyone," he replied definitively. He may be a
prostitute, but he certainly still had his dignity. "Now pull it out."
The man removed his half-hard member from his pants and let it rest between his
thighs. It was of average length and girth, nothing the boy couldn't handle.
Dio wasted no time in bringing it into his hands and jerking it slowly, pulling
the skin tight around the base before putting his mouth over the tip.
Dio Brando did nothing without finesse, including sucking dick for money. He
learned fast through practice what made these things get over with quickly. On
occasion, he would try to imagine what may feel good on his own cock; he tried
not to do this too often though, since it almost always led to him getting
hard. He was still young and his hormones were difficult to control. The last
thing he'd ever need in these situations would be the dishonor of someone
seeing him in such a vulnerable state.
A hand touched the back of his head as the man above him groaned. Dio pulled
away.
"I told you not to touch me." The hand quickly retracted.
"S-Sorry..."
After flashing a deathly glare, Dio returned to his task. He stroked in rhythm
to his bobbing head as his tongue flicked side to side along the shaft. After
only a minute, he heard the telltale hitch in the deep breathing above him. Dio
jerked hard as he pulled his head up, anticipating the man's orgasm. But the
hand returned to the back of his head, this time shoving him down and forcing
the spasming cock down the back of his mouth. The boy gagged as thick come
slithered down his throat. He tried to push himself off with his hands, but the
man held him there forcefully as he choked.
It seemed like forever before he was released. Dio pulled back and coughed up
the liquid that still lingered in his throat, frantically gasping for air.
Reflexive tears clouded his vision and he wiped them with the back of his
sleeve. As soon as he felt composed enough to speak, Dio growled.
"You bastard, I   told   you not to t- what?!"
Dio felt himself shoved face-first into the mattress and a large, rough hand
running itself under the front of his pants. They were quickly unbuttoning the
front while another slid his suspenders off his shoulders.
"What are you doing?! Unhand me!"
The man he had just serviced snickered, still sitting at the edge of the bed,
while his friend worked on undressing the boy. Dio kicked back with as much
strength as he could muster as he grit his teeth, flailing wildly as he felt
his pants slowly worked down his legs.
"Shut up." The first man's voice was still breathy as he came down from his
short-lived high. "You're good, but we deserve a bit more for twelve
shillings."
Dio managed to grind his heel into the top of his assaulter's foot, causing him
to flinch hard enough to unpin him. He turned around and punched the other man
square in the jaw, knocking him off the bed and onto the floor.
"You fucking pigs," he spat, panting, pulling his trousers back up to his
waist. "How dare you try something so vile? I ought to kill the both of you!"
Dio moved towards the vanity table to retrieve his payment before leaving. When
his back was turned, one man grabbed both his arms and yanked them back as the
other grounded a punch to his nose. Dio screamed as blood began pouring from
his nose, only to be struck again and again in the cheek until he felt his
teeth creak and crack. Instinctively, he bowed his head to avoid any more
blows. It was then that a knee made contact with the side of his face.
"Kill the both of us?" one of them teased. "What's a sniveling twit like you
going to do to us? You must not be a smart one."
Dazed, Dio was tossed onto the bed and landed on his stomach. His pants were
removed much more easily this time. Stars dotted his vision as he choked on
blood running down the back of his throat. His thoughts came to him slowly and
through a haze.
"Get off me!" he managed to grunt, spitting up a clot of blood onto the bed.
"Get off me this instant...!"
"You sucked my cock like you enjoyed it. You enjoy sucking older men's cocks
for money? Surely you wouldn't mind if we went a bit further."
"I didn't agree to this!" Dio screamed as his undergarments were being
unbuttoned. He tried to sound firm and unwavered, but there was no denying the
tinge of fear in his voice.
"We didn't agree to anything. Now don't give us another reason to beat you, you
stupid child. Don't make us have to denounce your name. Dario Brando's boy is a
cock-sucking whore. Ohh, what a delightful piece of information to spread
around the town! Your piss-poor family is already shamed enough on the streets
of London. It would send your father to an early grave, it would!"
With his underwear yanked off over his feet, Dio was rolled over onto his back.
The man's words rang through his mind over and over and it left him frozen;
would it be worth trying to fight this off, or would it just be better to allow
it to happen? He didn't even want to try to imagine the sort of hell he'd be
put through for the rest of his days if word got out. To have his name soiled
would be a fate worse than death. Perhaps it would be better to just suffer
this short bout of humiliation and spare himself lifelong shame.
The man above him grasped him by the knees and shoved his legs open, running
his tongue roughly along Dio's smooth, hairless skin. Saliva accumulated along
his inner thighs and every time he felt that disgusting wriggling approach his
balls, the boy felt his cock twitch.
"You're so soft," the man said, nipping at skin close to his groin. "So pale
and smooth... you remind me of a pretty girl."
Dio grasped at the sheets in an attempt to control his rage and growing
arousal. His teeth were grit hard, causing his entire mouth to ache. The
metallic taste of blood still lingered in his cheeks as a soft reminder of the
violence these bastards were capable of. He tried to focus on the pain in his
face instead of the vile act occurring, but when he felt his legs forced
together and lifted into the air, his thought process was cut short.
Something hard pushed itself between his thighs, rubbing against Dio's balls as
it slid back. That grip in the sheets only grew tighter as the man began
fucking his thighs with growing fervor. He was purposefully grinding himself
against Dio's cock, watching with intent as it slowly began to stiffen.
"I knew you'd enjoy this. You're getting hard! Hard from just this?! What a
slut! Do you want more, you pretty little thing? Thomas, come make use of his
mouth. I'm sure he'd love it."
Dio had little time to react before he felt a strong grip on the top of this
head, turning his face to the side. Another hand grasped his jaw and forced his
mouth open while a thick organ slid along his tongue and struck the back of his
throat. Dio almost welcomed it. It was easier to concentrate on not gagging
than thinking about that vulgar piece between his legs.
 Sick, sick filth, he thought to himself. They dare use I, Dio, as an object of
their amusement? They'll soon regret this. I refuse to be reduced to such
mockery. Once they are finished, I'll make sure they rue the moment they-
Dio audibly gasped and his eyes widened as he felt something slick press
against his backside, almost choking on the cock in his mouth. He shoved the
man above him away and began kicking his legs once more, rejecting the
intrusion.
"Don't you   dare!" he cried out, the fear growing tenfold in the tone of his
voice. "I refuse! I   refuse! Let me go!"
A balled fist struck him in the temple and he saw stars across his vision.
"Don't tell me you've never been fucked, boy," the man cooed as he rubbed the
head of his dick up and down the cleft of his ass. "A whore of your status has
already had plenty of practice in these sorts of things, hmm?"
"  No!" The words slipped out of his mouth before he even had time to consider
a response.
"No? Are you telling me you've never been fucked? How lucky are we, then?" Both
men laughed as their expressions turned sinister. "It would be an honorto be
the first one to use this beautiful ass of yours."
"Don't you   dare  !"
Dio was panicking. Sweat dripped from his brow as he thrashed and swung at
whatever he could make contact with, losing that last ounce of control he
desperately clinged to before. Damn it, damn it all! I will not be degraded
like this! I won't...!His pride was bruised so deep that his terror was seeping
through the cracks of his scornful facade. As much as he fought not to let the
men realize it, it was becoming painfully obvious.
And that was what scared Dio more than anything else.
A set of hands grabbed his wrist and held him down while a slick coldness was
felt against his neck.
"Don't make us cut this pretty neck of yours, boy," one of the men said
callously. "Just let us have our way and you can go home with nothing but those
shillings in your pocket. Not a word said to anyone, ya? You keep your pride
and your money and your head still on your shoulders."
Dio's muscles relaxed all at once as he let his limbs flop back onto the bed.
They'd really kill him. He could tell by the tone of that voice. What
repercussions would they have anyway? No one would dare care about a poor dead
child. No one would seek justice. His entire existence would be wiped from this
world without so much as a second thought from anyone, not even his own father.
Dio couldn't let that happen. He refused to be the nameless corpse of a peasant
discarded in the street.
Now that he was subdued, Dio's wrists were released but the knife still
remained. The boy was barely able to take a few breaths before the man above
him spit on him in some meager attempt at lubrication. The trail of wetness ran
down the cleft of his ass, and before he was able to reflect on the disgusting
feeling, that familiar hardness was pushing forward into him.
Every limb that had been resting moments before tightened up all at once as Dio
arched his back, throwing his head back so far that the knife cut into the skin
of his neck. The wound leaked blood, but there was little pain from it. Not as
his body felt like it was being torn in half, as the man's cock forced its way
through resistant muscle and flesh. Dio swore he wouldn't scream and bit his
tongue, but it did not prevent the loud cry that came from the back of his
throat. He shut his eyes tightly and prayed the tears forming went unnoticed.
As the man started moving, the pain did not change. The stabbing brutality was
unlike anything he ever experienced before, and he had been through some nasty
run-ins with broken liquor bottles and street shanks. Dio could only grip those
sheets as if he'd float away without anchorage and force his mind somewhere,
anywhere   but here. It was proving impossible to disassociate.
"You're so   tight!   You weren't lying! What a special moment for you!"
Fingertips grasped at his thighs so hard they left tiny bruises. "Your ass
looks so   perfect   on my cock. So, so perfect."
Above him, the other man was furiously jerking himself, having removed the
blade from Dio's neck and instead cut into the fabric of his shirt. His fingers
ran along fragile ribs and settled against a nipple, caressing it until it
hardened. The boy didn't even feel it. All that registered was searing hot pain
that rippled up his torso, through his arms and down to his toes. It was
getting hard to breathe.
Dio's flaccid dick lay pathetically against his stomach even as the pace
quickened. The smell of blood and sweat permeated the room, thickening the air
and choking him even more. Would this kill him, he wondered? Would he die here
from loss of blood, to be found indignantly gnarled across the bed by a
handmaid? What a horrific fate. The tears came quicker as Dio pondered this,
and for the first time in his life, he no longer cared about his pride.
Above him, he heard a rough groan before come splattered across his face. The
man ran his fingers through Dio's hair and tightened a harsh grip.
"Go on, clean my cock, you filthy whore." The softening organ was shoved
against his pursed lips. Dio did not hesitate to open his mouth, not bothering
to move on his own accord. The thrusts had become violent, and he was being
jerked back and forth by the sheer force.
"Are you crying?" he said as he pulled himself out and ran his member across
the boy's face, smearing the come and tears that dribbled down his cheeks.
"Look how cute you look with your face flushed."
Dio didn't want to look down and watch his abuser have his way with him. His
head lulled to the side and he focused his gaze on a spot of peeling wallpaper.
The pain was still there, still radiating through him to the core, but he knew
this would soon be over. He hoped, anyway. Never in his life had he actually
wished he was back home until now. Dio felt like his mind was something solid
and concrete and cracking into pieces. Pieces he knew he could pick up and put
back together, of course, to be buried back deep into his consciousness.
 I won't allow myself to be damaged, he thought to himself.   I'm stronger than
that. Dio Brando breaks for no one.
Despite this small sudden flare of pride, Dio could not help but shutter as he
felt the cock being pulled out of him, come leaking out of his ass and burning
his torn flesh.
As they redressed themselves, the two men reflected on the sight before them
with reverence.
"Such a pretty little thing all bloodied and bruised."
"He'd best clean himself up before walking home, unless he wants to attract
extra...   attention  ."
Shuffling, muttering, short bursts of laughter. Dio no longer registered the
sounds as they reached his ears. He didn't know how long he laid there on the
bed, staring at that same spot on the wall. Perhaps he fell asleep. By the time
he was conscious again, both men had left with all their belongings.
Slowly, slowly... the pain was just too much, yet he forced himself to sit up
from the mattress. His thighs were slick with blood and semen. Dio couldn't be
damned to care this late at night. With great finesse, he redressed himself,
infinitely frustrated at the torn seams in his clothing and sliced fabric of
his shirt. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve.
After standing up, Dio limped to the vanity table to retrieve the coins. He had
to stop and lean his body against the surface to keep himself up. Only after a
short rest did he notice the coins were gone.
Dio's knees buckled on him and he fell to the floor, sobbing bitterly.
No, no no no. I am above this! I, Dio, do not allow myself to be burdened with
such feeble emotions! I am still alive and my name is not soiled. These tears
are not necessary. Useless, useless, useless!
He slammed his fist into the side of the table and the glass mirror creaked and
shook.
Reducing me to this. Disgusting. Have they no honor, threatening to denounce my
own? As if this entire ordeal wasn't dishonoring enough.
Dio stood up and quietly left the room, his rage stewing with every painful
step he took. He felt the stares of bar patrons at his disheveled appearance
but not a word was said. Slowly, he made his way outside, choosing to walk down
an unlit alley to reduce the number of eyes on him.
Those bastards. All of them. Every single one. Gazing like I am beneath them.
How foul mankind has become, separating classes from one another, all motivated
by greed. The rich waste theirs on frivolous things while the poor scramble
like vermin to obtain it. And for what? To hire prostitutes and purchase cheap
wine? Disgusting. To think I wouldn't even be in this situation if my father
wasn't an honorless drunkard. It makes me sick to think his blood runs through
my veins.
By the grace of god, Dio managed to arrive home without drawing attention to
himself. He was greeted by rough, dirty hands gripping the front of his torn
shirt. Dario Brando was not a merciful man. When he asked him why he was so
late and how much he had earned, Dio was silent for several moments.
"I was attacked and robbed." Not quite a lie, though not enough of the truth.
His staggering limp should've indicated to the man he was not well.
The last ounce of respect he held for his father was destroyed when he felt a
fist collide with his already bruised, bloody face. Tears would never again
fall from Dio's eyes, he told himself as incomprehensible yelling fell on deaf
ears. All the beatings in the world wouldn't change him now.
 I'll kill him,   he mused as his father left to return to bed.   I'll denounce
my family name. I'll succeed where others have not.
The boy sat down on the floor, no longer having the energy to hold himself up.
His bottom and limbs ached miserably with every movement. Despite, this new
sense of purpose and hatred that bloomed from the night swelled within him. Dio
couldn't help but smile.
And I'll destroy everyone in my way.
End Notes
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