*This chapter was a bit disturbing even for me, and i cried a bit while i was writing it.
all characters are 18+
I don't think anyone will enjoy this chapter, except maybe the end, but be cheerful, good things will come, for this is not the last chapter, but the penultimate one.*
*
I woke up in a room that was cold, and pitch black...and I wasn't alone.
I was on my knees. My hands were in cold metal shackles that cut into my wrists, the short chain led to shackles on my ankles so I was forced to stay in an upright kneeling position. I could no longer feel my lower legs and my thighs were numb and painful with cramps. The muscles in my back and left side ached from leaning on the wall as I was unconscious. A little wiggling around told me that I was in the corner on a smooth floor that was either concrete or tiled.
I could hear my neighbor. All I could hear was soft raspy breathing and an occasional sob. I heard a slight clink of chains.
"Hello?"
My voice sounded so weak and shaky and afraid. As I woke up more and more of my aches and pains were getting sharper. I felt the crackle of scabbed over blood on my buttocks and thighs.
The other voice was a hoarse whisper. "Simon? Simon, is that you?"
"Raine? Raine, what is he going to—"
He cut me off, his voice loud and raw with sudden panic. "Shh! He's coming!"
He moaned. That sound was so hurt, so terrified. It only fed my terror as I heard heavy footsteps coming down a staircase. We must be in a basement, or upper room of some sort.
The door opened and I cringed as the bright yellow lamps from the hall flooded my eyes with light. The light was in a big yellow rectangle with a blurred man-silhouette in it.
He flicked on the light switch and I flinched again as harsh bright fluorescents turned on. I heard Raine whimper fearfully. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I looked around, horrified.
The place was a dungeon. Ropes hung from the ceiling and the ends of the ropes were thick with old clotted blood. The room was small, and most of it was made up by four hulking black frames. The frames were outfitted with shackles to hold the human body in all sorts of unnatural positions. Whips hung from the wall. Not short floggers, meant for pain and pleasure, but long knotted things of blood-crusted rawhide, and some had metal studs on the end of the strands.
Then I saw Raine. All conscious thought stopped, along with my heart. For at least ten seconds there was nothing in my head but the pure (!!!) of shock and terror.
Master had told me that Raine was badly beaten. He must have lied to me, to protect me from the grisly horror of what I saw before me.
Raine was forced in a spread-eagled position in his corner, each leg and arm held in shackles on the wall so his back was against the corner and he made an X against the wall. His skin was dead fish-pale. Huge delicate ovals of grey surrounded his reddened weeping eyes. The only thing about him that seemed vital and healthy was his hair, coppery red and flaming above his corpselike face.
His bloodless skin was lashed; not with red welts but massive bloody weals in the flesh. As if he hadn't been whipped, but cut open with a knife. The lash-marks were all over, a few even hitting his face. His neck and shoulders were covered with overlapping bloody crescent-shaped marks from our new master's teeth.
It wasn't his pale skin that had me immobilized and shaking. It wasn't the bloody lashes, or even those terrible animalistic bite-marks. A white bandage covered his groin. A bandage that bloomed with scarlet roses. Pus leaked from the edges of it. The man had amputated him.
I let out a weak airless groan, and I started to breathe again, fast high puffs. The man grinned at me with his small piggish eyes flashing.
"I love the Fishers... a little spendy, but they last so much longer. I used to just buy whores; no one cares if they disappear, not as long as you grease the right hands. However, I got tired of diseased little chinks and I learned about the Fishers from an old friend."
He moved closer, and Raine started to cry, cringing weakly into the corner, his legs weren't moving, they hung as limp and dead as cuts of meat as he feebly dragged himself back with his hands.
"You are a good find, I hope you last longer than this scrawny little bitch."
He reached for me and grabbed my hair. I cried out breathlessly with fear and pain. I struggled as he dragged me across the floor by my hair; my scalp was in fire. He dragged me to one of the racks, but instead of tying me up in whatever convoluted shape the rack had been meant for, he just tied a rope around my neck and tightened it so I had to sit up perfectly strait or I would choke. My wrists ached numbly.
He went back to Raine. Nothing was left of that beautiful, cheeky, sexy young man that had given me my first blowjob. The thing that was cowering in the corner was a wasted screaming animal.
The man briefly stopped to let out his cock, and then he dragged Raine over.
"You're too pretty to spoil yet." He gave me a smiling wink. He looked so cheerful, as if I were one of his buddies and he was making an off-color joke. His nonchalance was terrifying. Raine let out a shrieking groan of pain and fear, writhing feebly. He was untied, but too weak to give him any trouble.
"We'll just use up this little slut first." Use up. He meant murder. How many young men had been 'used up' in this room?
I cried out in terror as he let out a vicious kick to Raine's bandaged groin. Raine opened his mouth and nothing came out but a rush of air. His green eyes glittered brightly with agony and madness. Fresh blood oozed all over the white bandage.
---
I had to watch him beat Raine.
I had to watch him fuck Raine.
I had to watch him sodomize Raine with his closed fist.
The entire time, he looked at me, winking and smiling serenely. Almost as if to say, 'doesn't this look like fun? It's your turn next!'.
By the time he was done, Raine hung limply in his arms. I wanted to think that he hung like a rag doll, but he was limp like a corpse before it stiffens. The bandage loosened briefly, and I saw...I saw something terrible.
What else he did to Raine, and what else he forced me to watch, I wouldn't tell you. I wouldn't tell anyone. No one needed the nightmares.
Those were mine.
I sobbed with pain, but also with relief as the sick motherfucker tied up Raine in the corner and whipped me. The whip tore open long bleeding gashes on my body, but at least he was back to a sane level of depravity.
Something in me broke that day.
---
I don't know how long I slept. My sleep was shallow and haunted with nightmares. When I woke up, the lights were on and I could see Raine lying in a limp bundle in the corner. Blood streaked my body in streams and my throat was as raw and dry as sandpaper. My lips were swollen and cracked. I hadn't had anything to drink since the second dosage of the drug given to me by the Doctor.
My legs were cramping. I stayed there for half an hour, flexing my legs and crying with the pain of the cramps and my aching body. Raine cried out once in his sleep, but was otherwise quiet.
I heard footsteps, and I started to sob.
But there were two sets of footsteps this time. I was sure that he had brought down one of the bodyguards, to double the fun. I was ready to start babbling in terror by the time the door opened.
Then I saw him.
Master Anthony was standing next to the man, holding a drinking glass in one hand that was filled with a quarter inch of amber fluid. His eyes were haggard and red and they saw me. After that things happened very fast.
The man brought up a shining black gun, lifting it up in one hand. Master Anthony moved in one smooth fluid motion. He raised one leg up in a high kick that struck the man at the wrist and made the gun slide away uselessly across the concrete floor. While he kicked he smashed his drinking glass against the wall and slashed at the man with the jagged edge.
The man was fast. I screamed with torment and fear as he lashed out at Master Anthony with a switchblade that had been hidden in his other hand. Master grunted once as the blade buried itself in his upper arm to the hilt and dropped the glass, swinging at him with his good fist, his face contorted with rage.
The shot surprised everyone. Master looked at the corner with frantic reddened eyes and I shrieked and even the man had an expression of dull surprise on his face. A tiny black hole had appeared in the dead center of his forehead. The bullet had entered small and exited large. There was a huge formless splatter of red against the wall behind him, and Master's white glaring face was speckled with it.
Raine was holding the gun in white shaking hands, his face grey and swollen and tearful. It was a shot in a million that he had hit.
"Raine..." I whispered.
Then he turned the pistol around and put the smoking barrel in his mouth.
"RAINE!" I shrieked.
I couldn't look, but the sound was tremendous, like thunder in a bottle. I started to scream. I heard those sounds as if someone else were making them. Long shrieking wails at a pitch that could shatter glass. I felt Master Anthony's arms around me and I stopped screaming. I looked into his eyes and in the corner of my eyes I could see something limp and bloody.
"M-Master?"
"No." he said curtly. His face was ruined and weeping and contorted with relief and grief and fear. "Call me Anthony. I will never be your Master again."
