Indulgence Copyright 2006

By Jack Llawayllynn

Silentcrowstudio @aol.com

Chapter 16: Planted Seeds

Matt stumbled out of the shower, his teeth chattering. He climbed straight into the bed wet and naked and pulled the covers up high before reaching for the phone and dialing the number to the cabin. Drift answered on the third ring.

"It's...it's Matt," Matt stammered between his clicking teeth. "I really need to talk to Esty."

"Everything okay Matt?" Drift asked, catching the quavering quality of Matt's voice.

"Yeah, I...I just...let me talk to Esty, please."

Matt listened to the muffled explanation that Drift gave Estaban before Esty came on the phone. "Hey Matt," he said, sounding better than he had earlier that day. "What's up?"

"I need to know Esty...I need to know if you ever fucked Sin in the ass," Matt stuttered out unexpectedly.

There was a long silence on the other end. "A time or two, very rarely. You aren't having some kind of jealously issue all of a sudden just because he kissed me today are you Matt?"

"No, no, nothing like that. It's just...Esty, I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what I am becoming. He pissed on me Esty. In my mouth! And I liked it."

Another long silence greeted him and Matt began to worry that he had said way too much. Finally he heard Estaban sigh. "He's been training you a little at a time Matt. He knows what you really are but he knows you aren't ready to accept it yet. He's dragging it out of you piece by piece.."

"I don't understand." Matt's teeth were still chattering. He couldn't seem to get warm.

"Look Matt, I don't think you are ready to be hearing this yet and it needs to come from Sin, not me. You are different than I am. There is a mean streak in you that would do any master proud. You could almost be a master yourself but the slave in you is stronger. You'll be a wild one and need to be punished often. Does Sin punish you often?"

"Every day. Every day he hurts me or humiliates me. Is that what you mean Esty? That he is lord over me because I let him do those things?"

Esty sighed again. "No Matt. Right now he's just toying with you. It's all a game. Every word he says, every move he makes is a game though he is using it to train you along the way. He hasn't even begun to get serious with you. I don't know if he ever will."

"I still don't understand. Not at all. What are you trying to say Esty?"

"Look, I could be wrong here. Sin, well he does things in his own way. He likes to have his own rules. There's a club he goes to, The Collar Club. He's not what you would call a full member. He just visits when he wants to but they definitely give him the run of the place. It's an S/M club, full of violence and hard core sex. Sin, well, he likes the slaves there. He doesn't hang around long enough to get attached to any particular one. And he's never been committed enough to anyone to keep one anyway. He just throws everybody away. There is no trust in his soul. I don't know how to make any of this clearer to you Matt because like I said, you aren't ready and only Sin can say what it is he really wants from you but I suspect that you are, at least for the moment, in training to be nothing more than an obedient toy."

"But, a toy? He already treats me like a damn toy!"

"And he always will, whether he keeps you or tosses you aside."

"You think he'll toss me aside soon don't you? Us me up and leave me broken. How will I know Esty? How will I ever know if he means a word he says or if it's all part of his game?"

"Only he can answer that. You'll know he's serious about you though if he collars you for himself and shows you your place."

"I don't understand that Esty."

"I know Matt. Give it time. If Sin doesn't step up and do it soon then he never will and that means that you don't mean enough to him to keep you. No one else ever has ever worn his collar so I just don't hold a lot of hope out for you either. He's been hanging around out at the club for years but he just borrows a slave when he's in the mood. He won't make or buy one for himself because he doesn't want to be tied down. When he's gone though call me and I will point you in the right direction to find a true Master, if that's what you need."

"Towards you? Is that what you mean?" Matt asked angrily.

"No Matt. I am not comfortable in that role at all."

"I don't understand!" Matt said again, feeling panic and anxiety sweeping over him. He wished Sin would come home. Right now. He needed him here.

"Where is Sin?" Estaban asked as if reading his mind.

"He's gone to practice with the band," Matt said in a small voice.

"He'll be gone for a while then. I'm sorry Matt. It sounds like you really need him there with you tonight but this might just be part of the training, leaving you alone and undone, again. He's good at that isn't he? Just try to calm down, clear your mind and if you can go on to sleep. I know it's early but we've all had a long day so give it a try, okay?"

"Okay Esty," Matt said quietly. "I'll see you on Friday."

"Goodbye Matt," Estaban said with pity in his voice.

No sooner had Matt hung up the phone though than it rang. He lifted it back off the hook thinking that maybe Estaban had forgotten to tell him something more but was surprised to hear Miss Sylvia's voice instead.

"What's happened Matt? I know something bad has happened but I couldn't see what it was in my dream. It must have been awful." Her voice was full of emotion.

"They've killed Estaban's cats Miss Sylvia and they tried to have his boyfriend taken into custody. He's in a terrible state."

Miss Sylvia kept Matt on the phone for over an hour, pumping him for all the details she could get out of him. He tried to hold back and just give her the basic facts but she had a way of getting him to say more than he had intended to and Matt was in no state of mind to see his way through her maze of gentle persuasion and flat demands for truth. He was able only to keep back the most damning of information, like their plan to kill McKenna that weekend. At least he had been able to keep his head enough not to spill that too. By the time he finally got her off the phone he felt like he'd been put through a wringer.

Climbing out of bed Matt rummaged around and pulled on a pair of jogging pants before padding down the hall toward the kitchen to make a sandwich. Miss Sylvia had so diverted him from his emotions over the day's events that he actually felt much better now, and hungry to boot. Digging through the cabinets he came across the black tin of some of Miss Sylvia's strong medicinal tea. It would make him sleep, he knew that, and it might stop the churning thoughts from assailing him again. Matt boiled some water and debated over how much tea to use. Finally he just dumped a large amount of leaves in and poured the water over it. He wanted to go to sleep and think of nothing at all until morning so the more leaves the better. He made a sandwich, piled high with turkey and cheese and took it along with the tea to the living room. He finished both quickly. Matt was taking his dishes back to the kitchen when there was a knock at his door. He straightened nervously. He didn't have a gun nearby and he couldn't imagine who would be visiting him here. Already he was beginning to feel a little groggy.

"Mathew? Mathew, are you home? We need to talk to you!"

Oh shit! Matt thought frantically. That was his father's voice! For a moment he considered not answering the door, slipping away down the hall and hiding under the covers again. With a deep sigh Matt went and opened the door.

Matt was confronted with both of his parents in the doorway. Their faces were cold and pale. There was rage in his father's eyes and the range of emotions that flashed through his mother's stare was varied and unfathomable.

"What's happened?" Matt asked, his stomach feeling as though it had dropped to his feet.

Matt's father pushed past him into the apartment but his mother hovered in the door. "Are you still alone?" his father demanded hotly.

"Yes, I'm alone. What do you mean still?"

"Your father wanted to make sure that...man...was still out," his mother said quietly, her eyes skidding away from Matt's then back. "Oh Matt, why didn't you tell us about Trish? You didn't even call! I got the news from a friend at the grocery store!"

"How did you know my room mate was out?" Matt asked uneasily, his mind fighting to stay alert against the power of Miss Sylvia's tea.

"We received a call. Sit down Matt. Now."

Matt cringed at the tone in his father's voice and went to sit down. "I'm sorry I didn't call Mom. I know I should have. You didn't have to come out here. Really I'm okay."

"We aren't here about Trish," Matt's father cut in before his mother could get two words out. "We're here to try to save your soul!"

Matt barely stifled a groan. He had only just noticed the large book clutched in his father's hands. It was his father's favorite well worn copy of the bible.

* * * *

Sin was late for practice as usual. Sometimes he showed up late just to piss the guys off. They had more energy and it gave the music more of an edgy sound when they were pissed at him but this time he hadn't set out to be late and piss them off, it was simply a matter of being too distracted to show up on time. He expected them to be angry though when he walked in the room but instead he found them all seated around a table and they barely glanced up at him when he entered. Even Heath failed to glare at him. Sin frowned and swept his gaze over the group of men, his face filling with fury as his eyes came to rest on an interloper.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Sin demanded pointing at the man he recognized as Charles Debroy. Mr. Debroy managed bands for a living and his name had been splashed across the front page of the newspaper three months ago in a five million dollar music scandal in which the band Der Munchies had been royally screwed of their profits. The article had quoted Mr. Debroy as saying, "Those idiotic good for nothing punks owed me every last cent of that five million!" The courts had agreed and Der Munchies had fallen apart, drifting different ways penniless and trying to start somewhere new from scratch. No band wanted to fall into a trap like that.

"I brought him here," a familiar voice said behind Sin. Sin turned in confused amazement to face Matt's boss, Mr. Silverman as he exited the john doing up his flies. "He and I are business partners."

"I'm sorry Mr. Silverman," Sin said through his teeth, doing his damnedest to be polite, "but we want no part of his sort of business practices."

"Yeah, a lot of misinformed or just down right ignorant musicians have said that since the scandal. I assume that you dislike him because of this." Mr. Silverman produced a copy of the newspaper article from his pocket and handed it to Sin. A glance back at the table showed him that all of his band members had a copy spread out before them and Charles Debroy was grinning like a jack in the box. Sin glanced down at the paper in his hand and saw that several portions of it had been highlighted in yellow marker. One name jumped out at him: Simon Silverman.

"You're Debroy's attorney?" Sin asked in disbelief.

"Yes, and a lucrative partnership it is, let me tell you. But before you go on with your judgments Mike let me set the record straight here for you. I wrote up the contract for Der Munchies and Debroy to sign so I know exactly what it said. The newspaper states that their contract required them to give fifty percent of their profits for three years to Debroy and they made that sound totally outrageous..."

"It is!" Sin declared hotly and Silverman held up a hand to silence him.

"It would be, normally. What they didn't put in their little article there was that Debroy fronted them nearly three and a half million dollars to get them out of legal trouble, buy new instruments and wardrobe and to get a nice tour bus. The fifty percent clause was to make sure they repaid that debt and it to make it worth Debroy's while to help them out. He had faith in them that they'd go big and they did. They could have continued to climb the charts, even after the lawsuit when they tried to stiff him but instead they said they'd see a cold day in hell before he got another dime out of them and so they quit. Just like that. Debroy could have sued them again for breach of contract but chose not to. Now see, he's not the devil you thought he was, is he?"

"You have a copy of that contract with you Mr. Silverman?" Sin asked quietly, holding the older man's eyes.

Silverman smiled, produced another piece of paper and slapped it into Sin's hand. "The guys here said you were the brains of the operation. I see that's so. You are the only one so far who has asked to see that."

Sin nodded absently as he took the contract between Der Munchies and Debroy over to the table where the light was better and sat down between Heath and Debroy to read it. He totally ignored the rest of the room but they were silent anyway, all of them waiting expectantly while Sin read the entire contract word for word then held the paper up closer to examine the signatures at the bottom. "I always knew Der Munchies were fucking losers," Sin muttered when he'd finished reading.

"Is it true then Mike?" Doboot, the bassist asked. "Did Der Munchies deserve what they got?"

"Oh yeah, they actually got off really lightly. The contract required them to remain together as a band for ten years under Debroy."

"Ten years! Holy shit!" Heath muttered turning to stare at Sin. "Man I'd hate to be locked into a contract like that with you!"

"Doesn't matter Heath," Sin growled. "I ain't here to sign a contract." Sin shifted his eyes to Silverman's to show that he meant to include him in that knowledge then shifted back arrogantly in his chair, his long legs stretching out.

"Well now Mike," Silverman drawled as he took a seat. "Here's the deal, I already knew about Chains before I did that little favor for you and your friend Matt. Charles here had been talking about your group for weeks. When Matt told me the story about the troubles he was facing and that you were his friend well, I knew a golden chance was dangling before me. You didn't think I ran to rescue you from the police station on a whim now did you?"

Sin snorted sourly. He knew Silverman had to have a stake somewhere in this mess. There was no way a man of his savvy would hide a murder plot against a Senator unless there was something in it for himself. Sin couldn't wait to get home and ream Matt out over this nasty turn of events.

"Okay Silverman, I'm not going to use the word blackmail here because my fellow band members might start to worry about what's really between you and me, ain't that right fellas?" Sin asked sarcastically, watching their faces fill with the very worry and suspicion that he knew would be forthcoming. "Instead of boring them with the details of our relationship sir, I would like to know just what exactly you want from me, or from us rather. Fifty percent is way out of the question by the way. No amount of blackmail will make me back down on that."

Debroy's smile was mile wide and Silverman nodded at him with a wink. "Told you I could get these guys to listen to you Charlie. Now you fellows need to take Charlie here seriously, very seriously. He manages some big names, I'm sure you'll recognize some of them on this list here," Silverman pulled out another piece of paper and passed it around. Even Sin arched a brow at the list, surprised that some of the listed bands were in his own cd collection. "We know fifty percent isn't on the table. This is a totally different situation."

"Is it?" Sin asked hotly. "You said Debroy here was helping the lead singer with some legal fees. And now here I am dealing with some legal issues and there the two of you sit."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Andy the guitarist asked. His eyes were bloodshot and blurry as he turned a wobbly head towards Sin. "I heard that pretty red head you'd been fucking was shot down in the street. You have something to do with that old buddy?"

Sin lunged across the table and punched Andy in the eye. Andy's chair toppled and dumped him in the floor.

"You stupid stoned fucker! Try coming to practice clean for once eh? Maybe you'll be smarter sober, smart enough to watch your fucking mouth." Sin settled back in his seat in time to see Silverman and Debroy exchange a significant look. "What? You two have a problem with that?" Sin nodded at Andy slowly trying to get up off the floor.

"Yes, actually I do," Debroy said darkly. "These guys have already told me you were the one that broke Heath's wrist a while back. That meant that you couldn't gig until it healed and they kicked you out of the band. It was pure luck that Ross was killed and they asked you back."

Heath laughed luridly. "Man, that wasn't luck, that was lust. Ross didn't know when to keep his pecker in his pants. Sin here, he's a real bastard, a mother fucker and I can't stand him but no one can rock a stage like he can. Have you listened to him sing? Goddamn man, no one sounds like him, no one. I called him back myself. We weren't doing shit with Ross as the front man. The night Sin came back, man it was over the top. They stopped the show before we were finished because the club had filled up to three times its capacity and people were still trying to push their way in. They had to call the cops to clear out the club and shut it down."

"Yeah, I was there," Debroy said nodding. "I got the tip off that it was a show I shouldn't miss. I would have approached you sooner but I knew I'd have a tough time getting in the door with that Der Munchies shit hanging over my head. When Simon called and said he could get me in I nearly shit my pants but look man, I'm a serious businessman and when I make an investment, whether it's my time or money, I want to see that investment protected." Debroy turned a flat stare to Sin. "That means that if you enter a contract with me it will specifically have a clause against you being violent to your group mates. I'm sure you can understand where I am coming from here."

"I damn sure can," Andy muttered as he set his chair upright and plopped down in it, rubbing his eye.

Sin shot him a nasty sneer. "Don't piss me off and we're good." He turned back to Debroy. "As for you, you haven't given me one goddamn reason why I should be the least bit interested in signing a contract with you. The only thing you have going for you is Simon Silverman who seems to think he has some leverage on me."

"Yeah, I do think it, son." Silverman agreed nodding. "You knew from the start that I wanted something and this is it. First though I want to present you with a real and a reasonable contract. I'm just asking for you to look it over for now, tell me what you like and what you don't. Then we'll talk some more. I certainly wouldn't want to cause any interference in your personal plans."

Sin barked an expletive as he stood, his chair clattering to the floor. He strode away muttering then swung back. "You aren't squeaky clean in my personal plans Silverman, you do realize that right? Maybe we should talk about going hunting together you and me, see what fine young bucks we can flush out up at the cabin."

"You wouldn't risk that. It all means more to you than this, throwing it to the wind when all I've asked of you so far is to think about the contract that Debroy is offering."

"What the hell is going on here anyway? I don't understand any of this shit," Andy said irritably. "Are we being offered a real deal or not?"

"Don't worry about it Andy," Sin said in a tired voice. "It's all good. I'll take care of it. One way or another." He turned back to Silverman. "You do understand that I do have some personal business that is still as yet unfinished, right?"

Silverman nodded, holding his eye. "I know."

"I'll need time. I need to take care of ...things...before I can even consider a contract. We've been offered contracts before and I turned them all down. I had issues."

"Which will be solved when your personal business is finished, right?" Silverman pressed.

Sin nodded. "Tell you what, give me a copy of your contract. I'll need three weeks at least, no let's say a month, to review it and finish my business. We'll meet again after that and I'll tell you what I think."

Silverman gave him a hard stare. "I'll hold you to that. One month Mike. I'm sure you will make the right decision."

"I'm sure I will," Sin muttered darkly.

"Hey, what about us? Don't we matter? I mean damn man, we're sitting right here," Doboot complained.

"Man, you'd sign whatever piece of shit they stuck under your nose so long as they told you it meant money. Leave this to me and I'll make damn sure you aren't screwed in the ass." Doboot glared at him a moment then nodded. He knew Sin was right. Sin pointed a finger into Silverman's chest. "You understand that I am looking out for the guys. They want this, they've wanted it a long time. I won't have them fucked over. Oh, and I need Matt to help with my personal business. How about you give him some time off to come work with me this month eh?"

"The whole month?" Silverman said outraged. "He's my best researcher! Do you understand how valuable he is to me?"

Sin raised his brow and stood staring at Silverman until the man finally gave in. "Damn it! Fine! He has a month off. Get your shit cleaned up. When I see you again I want to know its over, all of it, including that buck hanging around out at the cabin that you mentioned eh? You get your shit straight and we'll make some real money, get this band on the road and rocking."

Sin nodded but stepped in close to Silverman and lowered his voice so the others couldn't hear his words. "As long as you keep in mind that this band, it isn't my life. I could care less. It's a hobby for me. Got it? You can't dazzle me with promises of fame and fortune like you can the rest of these assholes."

Silverman looked surprised then a deep worry entered his eyes. He depended on the band members being greedy, hot for wealth and fame. If Sin wasn't he wouldn't be easy to manipulate. Well, Silverman never shied away from a challenge.

"All right," Sin said loudly, turning away. "Get your asses up and let's do this. We're wasting time. You two can stay and watch the practice if you want to but keep your opinions to yourself. If you don't like what you hear then get out."

"Fair enough," Debroy said smiling and kicking back comfortably in his chair. Silverman too sat again and settled in to watch the show. Sin shook his head and went to set up his microphone and whip his band into some semblance of serious workers.

* * * *

Matt was grinding his teeth. His father had been preaching at him for what felt like an eternity, a sermon that covered a long litany of common sins and evils. Matt's eyes kept fluttering closed and he'd jerk himself back awake. His head felt stuffed full of wool and he was having a hard time keeping his thoughts from skittering off into nothingness. Suddenly his father stopped and looked at him gravely.

"You do remember the Word, don't you son?" he asked darkly.

"Yes Dad, of course I do. I just haven't chosen to travel your path. I'm not like you."

"We know that now. We thought you were just straying a little. We didn't know you were busy damning your soul to hell. I saved you once and I'll do it again. Rachael, tell your son you support me in this. That I'm here for his own good."

Matt glanced uneasily at his mother. She was crying. "He's right Matt. He's here to save you. You know we love you, so much. He has to save you from this. He's the only one who can. He has before, when you were a boy, remember?"

"I really am not sure what you are talking about Mom," Matt said confused but with a rising sense of severe panic and fear.

"Give me the envelope Rachael then go to the car. Lock the doors and don't try to come back up here to the apartment. Wait for me. You know what needs to be done, what has to be done."

Matt watched his mother pull a thick envelope from her purse, handling it as if it were poisoned. With a sob she placed it on the coffee table, rose and rushed from the room. Matt's father reached out, picked up the envelope and dumped its contents onto the table. Matt froze in horror, his breath freezing in his lungs as he stared down at a scattered pile of color photographs. With a shaking hand he reached out and gathered them up and brought them closer to his face, hoping like hell his eyes were playing tricks on him. The first photo was a picture of him and Sin, standing bare chest to bare chest, Sin's hand wrapped in Matt's hair. Matt let that photo slide to the floor. The next was worse, they were kissing, lip locked, both of them groping. That one fluttered away. The next was a picture of Matt squatting over Sin on the bed. Sin could only be seen from the waist down, the rest of him cut off by the outside wall and window frame. He remembered how he should have realized that Sin was toying with him that night but hadn't and Sin had fucked him raw. He groaned out loud. All the photos had been taken through his bedroom window from a building nearby. He would have to study the angle to figure out which building the camera had been in but it was obvious that the photographer had used a telephoto lens. Matt continued to let pictures flutter from his fingers hesitating over one that clearly showed Matt on his back, his ankles pinned back by Sin's hard hands, Sin's dick buried in Matt's ass. Matt blinked several times in horror. He let photos slide from his hand in a stream. The last picture was of Sin alone, on his knees on the edge of the bed, looking down. The look on his face was terrible, savage and cruel and full of decadent satisfaction. Matt knew that Sin had been looking down on him on the floor, crawling around like a worm, crying. Matt shuddered. He knew Sin was evil but the expression on his face in this photograph was down right demonic. Matt let the picture go, his eyes rising slowly to meet his father's. In one horrible, powerful movement his father lunged forward and caught Matt full across the face with the heavy bible. The force of the swing sent Matt off the couch to crash down onto the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, blood dripping from a split cheek to drip onto the damning photos.

"Be gone ye demon!" Matt's father bellowed above him, dragging the coffee table out of his way. "Leave the body of my son!" The bible descended to hit Matt again and again. Matt threw his arms over his head to protect it. His father continued to demand the evil to leave as he hit Matt over and over until pages began to flutter down like giant snowflakes.

"Dad, stop! Please stop!" Matt begged, trying to crawl away from his father's blows. The book finally disintegrated all together and Matt sobbed in relief but as he started to rise up he saw that his father had undone his belt and was pulling it free of his pants. "No!" Matt said, shuffling backwards on the floor away from the man. A mad light shown in his father's eyes.

"I stopped this once," his father said advancing. "With that boy from your school that came over to visit. I can stop it again. I drove the demon out once I can do it again!"

Matt's mind was reeling. What was his father saying? What boy from school? Matt was still struggling to remember when the leather whistled over him, doubled over in his father's fist. The first blow was a shock, catching Matt across his bare shoulders. Matt swung away and once again tried to protect his head.

"I don't know what you mean! Dad, stop!" Matt bellowed as the belt whistled again and again. Something stirred in his mind. A memory of being in this position once before, crawling across the floor of his bedroom, trying desperately to crawl under his bed for safety, his father catching his ankle and pulling him back to beat him some more. The memory seemed to seep into reality as the belt lashed him over and over. His father was preaching again in a booming voice and demanding the demon leave his son.

"Damn it Dad! Stop! I'm gay okay? Just stop!" Matt yelled desperately. Even through Miss Sylvia's tea Matt realized that he had just admitted the truth to his father and wished he could call the words back.

"Shut up demon! Be gone! Get out! Leave my son!"

Matt felt a new searing pain in his back. His father had released one end of the belt so that it was no longer doubled over. Instead he was now beating Matt with the end with the belt buckle. Matt could feel his flesh rip and tear under the metal edges, could feel the metal tongue punch through his skin to stab and jab. Matt had inherited his build from his father. The man was big, broad shouldered and tall. There was an enormous amount of strength behind each swing despite his father's normally peaceful lifestyle and Matt felt every ounce of that strength through the leather.

"Say you repent! Say you aren't gay! Say it Matt!"

Matt hunched his shoulders and instinctively curled in on himself, an animal under attack trying to protect its soft underbelly, its neck and face. The words jarred through Matt, he remembered them clearly now. His shocked mind jumped into the past. The boy's name had been Sammy Jones. He'd come home with Matt after a middle school game that they had won. Matt had been the quarterback. Sammy had caught the winning touchdown pass. They had been ecstatic and hyper. They were still hyper that night, unable to sleep. Late in the night after giggling over Matt's hidden contraband of National Geographic magazines Matt had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Sammy had followed him, chattering away. Matt had been trying to hide a hard on under his baggy pajama pants and had planned to touch himself in the bathroom, in private. Sammy though said he had to piss real bad when they got in the bathroom and Matt had stood back, watching. Sammy had looked up and caught his eye then shook off his dick and tucked it in his pants.

"You like what you were staring at?" Sammy had asked and suddenly reached out to grab Matt's dick, his eyes going wide when he found Matt hard. "I think you must like dick. Want to taste mine?" Sammy had asked boldly. No one had ever talked to Matt like that before and he had just stood there, totally stunned. Laughing Sammy had pulled his dick back out. It was growing now. "Come on Matt. I know you like looking at it. You can taste it if you want to."

Matt had wanted to. Looking at sagging boobs in the magazine had been interesting but it had been the pictures of the barely clothed men that had turned him on. Now Sammy stood before him with his young cock standing proud and Matt had wanted to touch it, taste it. Terrified but excited beyond belief he had slowly gone onto his knees, taken Sammy's cock and touched his tongue to the tip. It tasted just a little salty. Matt wasn't sure if there might be a little piss still on the tip. He wished he could have tasted more. Sammy had stared down at him in excited amazement. His hand reached out to touch Matt's hair.

"Put it in your mouth Matt," Sammy had whispered, his voice pleading.

Matt had obliged willingly and eagerly. Neither of them had heard the Reverend Damon Darvins stumbled out of his bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he walked into the bathroom he was met with the sight of his son down on his knees, sucking the dick of the middle school's star receiver. The two boys were thirteen years old. The boys had leapt apart but the damage was done. With as few words as possible the reverend had sent Sammy to get dressed and gather his things. Matt he sent to await him in his study. Matt had sat in the leather chair listening to the sounds of his mother hustling Sammy out of the house to take him home. She was sobbing the entire time. There was no doubt his father had told her exactly what he had seen. After Sammy had gone Matt's father sent him to his bedroom, following on his heels with a belt dangling from his fingertips.

Matt never saw Sammy Jones again. Matt's parents had pulled him out of public school and home schooled him until his tenth grade year. By then Sammy Jones and his family had moved to another city and Matt had buried the memory so deep that he didn't even remember Sammy Jones except as a shadow of someone who used to play football with him.

Matt wondered now if his mother had been instructed to tell Sammy's parents exactly what he was being sent home early for. Matt very much doubted though that Sammy had felt the same punishment he had. The very same punishment he was feeling now.

Matt was beginning to thrash on the floor. His father's strong arm had not lessened in power in the intervening years and Matt's back was on fire. The pain was too intense to worry over protecting his face and head. Now all he could do was try to escape. His father put a foot down on Matt's ankle and leaned into another swing.

"Denounce your demons Matt! Repent!"

Matt's mind never turned to defending himself in any other way than escape. This man was his father and in Matt's mind he was a boy once more, writhing under his father's fury. He couldn't strike back, he could only take his punishment and obey. Somewhere along the way he had slipped over into a drug induced trance. Now he was utterly helpless.

* * * *

Sin was gritting his teeth in frustration. He knew exactly how he wanted the song to sound. He was pleased with the work he had put into it. The truth was that song was about fucking Matt but the lyrics were so wrapped in innuendo and twisted riddles that he knew only a very few listeners would ever even suspect the song was about gay sex. It was to have a hard driving beat, a throbbing bass and a guitar that went from groaning to shrieking and back again, fast music changes between one gasp and the next. All the guys were doing it justice except Andy. Andy just wasn't getting it. He was fumbling over the strings, getting hung up on the change into the chorus. Sin was having a hard time making him understand where he was fucking up.

"Damn it Andy! What the fuck is wrong with you? You can do this! You're one of the best damn guitar players in the country when you aren't so stoned out of your mind that you can't think!" Sin raged when Andy mangled the notes once again. They'd tried to get through the song eight times now.

"Man, maybe my damn head is still ringing from you hitting me."

"That's bullshit. You are fucking up your fingering. Give me the guitar."

Andy shook his head and stepped back.

"Asshole! I'm just going to show you what I mean."

"Man, you better not bust up my guitar," Andy said grumpily as he pulled the strap over his head and handed the guitar to Sin.

"That is why we'll put it in the contract that Mike there is to control his temper at all times with the band members and their equipment," Debroy piped up from his seat near the back wall. "No need for you guys to fear your singer now is there?"

Sin shot him a hate filled glare but quickly turned back to Andy, blocking the interference out of his mind. "Watch," he said sternly, his fingers flying over the strings. It was no surprise to the band members. They were more than used to Sin's ability to pick up nearly any instrument and play it like a pro. Silverman and Debroy though leaned forward excitedly in their chairs. They had known he was talented and had enough stage presence to make up for any amount of bad temper but finding new abilities in a potential investment was like fine wine to them.

"Aw shit," Andy said, his eyes glued to the strings. "I see it now. Shit! Okay, okay, I got it."

Sin pulled the guitar strap over his head and handed it back to Andy. As he approached the microphone again Debroy interrupted him again. "Why don't you just put the music down on paper? Wouldn't that be easier?"

"Fuck you!" Sin said loudly into the microphone. "Butt out asshole. You want to watch fine, but keep your opinions to yourself."

"He can't read or write sheet music," Andy volunteered anyway. "Don't matter though, we understand him just fine."

"Thanks asshole," Sin muttered darkly and stepped off the stage. "Why don't you practice alone until you can get your fucking fingers untied? I'm going home."

"Smooth work," Doboot grumbled at Andy as he turned to unplug his bass. "I'm going too. I'm fucking tired. Sin, you call me about that contract when you read it and explain it to me. I ain't too proud to admit it's all Greek to me."

Sin nodded and threw up a hand in farewell before snatching up his jacket. Silverman caught up with him at the door. "Tell Matt to I said he's got the month off but it's not vacation time. I'm not paying for it. You make that clear. You two get your shit straight and put it all behind you. You tell him I said that."

Sin gave him a flat look then nodded. "I'll tell him."

In the cab Sin's temper was growing to a boil. He didn't like being jerked around by Silverman and Debroy but he was well and truly trapped. Silverman knew way too much for Sin to buck him on this. He could ruin all Sin's plans and fuck his life up for ever. No, he'd sign the damn contract. Eventually. After he had reshaped it and pounded into something he could live with. Matt though was going to hear about this big time. Oh yes, Matt would pay for this unexpected turn of events.

Sin was still seething in his mind when as he went down the hall towards the apartment door. One of the neighbors stuck her head into the hall, spotted him and started back before recognizing him as the new guy in the building.

"I'm a good Christian myself," she said in a complaining voice, "but the revival in your apartment is too loud! Tell Matt to turn his television down for goodness sakes! It's upsetting me!"

Sin stared at her dumbfounded but then decided to simply agree with her to get her to leave him alone.

"Yes ma'am, I sure will." He assured her. "Goodnight to you."

She stared at him a moment as if distrusting him then finally nodded her curler clad head. "Well, alright then. Goodnight to you too."

Sin quickened his pace to his door and reached for his keys in pocket before he noticed that the door was very slightly ajar and that there did indeed seem to be a rousing sermon going on in his apartment. Curiously he pushed the door open with his fingertips and stepped inside.

* * * *

Matt had managed to crawl out into the middle of the living room floor but it had not helped him any. Now his father had room to put one large foot in the small of Matt's back and hold him down with it even as the beating continued. The reverend was demanding a response from him now and Matt had no choice but to answer.

"Denounce your demons!" The reverend's voice boomed and Matt did. "Swear you will walk a righteous path!" Matt swore it. "Tell me you will stop seeing that devil you are living with! Tell me you will cast him out!" Each demand was punctuated by another fall of the metal ended lash of the belt. Matt swore to these demands too, pleading in between and sobbing for mercy. "Cast sin out of your heart! Cast sin out of your home!"

"Yes!" Matt gasped into the carpet. "Yes! I'll cast him out!"

"Come back to the Lord!"

"Daddy I will! I will! Please Daddy, I will!"

Sin felt an immediate and overpowering rush of rage at the sight that greeted him. No one could lay hands on Matt but him. No one. He owned Matt. Matt was his damn it! Daddy or no Daddy this man would pay.

"Get away from my boy!" Sin said in a cold, hard voice even as produced his gun from his inner jacket pocket at pointed it at the man standing over Matt. The man looked up, his face an eerily older version of Matt's.

"I don't fear you Satan," the man spat at him. "Be gone!"

The statement was so ridiculous to Sin that he actually barked a laugh. The laugh left him in a rush though when Matt began to beg his father to save him from the evils of the devil.

"Don't let him take me again Daddy!" Matt sobbed. "He's come for me!"

"You've broken his mind you fucker!" Sin snarled advancing into the room, the gun now held in a hand that wanted to shake with his fury, his arm straightened like steel and pointed at the reverend's head.

"I've saved his soul. He's a good boy but he strays. Now he's back where he belongs, loving the Lord."

"I'm his Lord," Sin said through gritted teeth.

"You are the devil!" the reverend spat back.

"Get out of my house!" Sin bellowed enraged.

"This is my son's house! You are the one who's leaving! Tell him son!"

Sin didn't miss the fact that the man put more pressure on the foot resting on Matt's back as he made the demand.

"Leave my house demon! Be gone!" Matt gasped out into the carpet.

"Shit!" Sin said, his anger beginning to turn to panic. He was losing. Matt was slipping away from him, falling back into a pattern of programming that the man standing over him had been bending him to his whole life. Sin's few months of control couldn't compare to more than a twenty years of brainwashing. He had to take control of this situation and do it quickly. "If you do not leave right now I will put a bullet in your brain you evil fucker and I'll swear that statement on any bible you like. And don't think you can go call the cops and blame Matt's beaten condition on me. Even if he would back you up there was neighbor who saw me just now in the hallway. I've been with a whole group of guys the entire evening who can also testify that I wasn't here so don't even think of trying to set me up. Just take your foot off my property and get the fuck out!"

The reverend glared at Sin for a long moment, his eyes looking past the gun as if it wasn't even a factor. He seemed to realize that the beating had taken Matt back to childhood but that he would need more time to set the lesson in place, days to complete the brainwashing. If he left now Sin would have a shot at trying to undo his work. Matt lifted his head from the carpet though and sobbed at the sight of the gun.

"Don't shoot my Daddy! Please! Don't kill my Daddy!"

Sin swallowed a vile taste in his mouth. Something more was going on with Matt than what he could see and it terrified Sin that he couldn't understand what it was, what it might be.

Damon Darvins smiled broadly as if reassured. "He won't let you near him again. Not ever. I'll leave but I'm sure Matt will be coming home tomorrow. He won't stay here with you or anywhere that you could get to him. I don't fear you and you have no power over my son now." The reverend let the belt drop from his fingers, took his foot off Matt's back and headed for the door, brushing so close to Sin that their shoulder's nearly touched. The door closed with a soft click and Sin dashed over to it to turn every lock on the door before putting the gun down and rushing to Matt.

"Oh Christ!" Sin groaned when he got a good look at Matt's bloody back. Bible pages were scattered everywhere, mixed in with photographs of him and Matt having sex. Sin didn't have time to wonder where those had come from. Matt was trying to scramble away from him, his eyes wide and filled with terror, the entire right side of his face black with bruises and swollen. Sin noted that Matt's pupils were fully dilated, his eyes looked like those of a dead animal, black, blank, staring.

"Don't touch me!" Matt gasped between sobs. "Daddy! Daddy, come back! Don't leave me here with him!"

"He's gone Matt. Come on kid, easy now."

Matt had scrambled away to slouch against the wall with his legs tucked under him like a boy. Blood smeared the wall and stained the carpet where it dripped. His eyes were glazed like a zombie, so blank as to seem blind. Sin squatted down across from him, careful not to get to close for fear that Matt might actually start screaming. The good reverend had certainly done one hell of a job on him and Sin knew enough about the levels of torture to see that this was beyond one beating. The kid had been through this before and instinctively his mind had taken him back to what he had done right the first time to save himself. Survival instincts told Matt to mind his Daddy. Sin felt a rising despair. He was losing him!

"Come on Matt, come here to me," Sin coaxed, carefully reaching out a hand. Matt shied back against the wall, his head shaking frantically. "No! No! I want my Daddy!"

"Damn it Matt! Stop talking like a fucking child!" Sin shouted, frustrated and afraid. Matt whimpered and cringed against the wall, turning his face away from Sin but his mouth was clamped tight shut. He was obeying. Light dawned in Sin's eyes. He could still win this. Matt was still reacting to pain and fear. He had said every word that his father had told him to say simply to please him. Sin could make this work for himself as well. Matt was wide open to suggestion. Damon Darvins hadn't taken the time to ease Matt back down to reality. He hadn't rewarded him enough to let him know the ordeal was over. He'd left him hanging. Sin's eyes shifted to the bloody belt and he shuddered. That was not an option. Sin rose and strode to the bedroom. He threw open the closet door and attacked a box on the floor that had not yet been unpacked. Its contents were private. He knew Matt hadn't been ready to face them yet. Now though he rummaged through the pile of leather and studs and came up with a paddle. It had a broad head, encased in leather and drilled through with holes. It would sting like fire but not inflict the kind of damage the belt had with its metal buckle. With a deep breath to fortify himself Sin strode back into the living room, the paddle hanging from his wrist by a leather strap and grabbed Matt's arm, hauling him to his feet. Matt struggled weakly. Sin noted immediately that Matt had a hard on. It was a damn good thing the reverend hadn't seen that. He probably would have tried to cut Matt's dick off and Matt might have let him.

"Leave me alone!" Matt whined. "I want my Daddy."

"I am your Daddy kid," Sin growled sternly. "That man that left, he was only your father. I'm your Daddy now." He jerked Matt roughly down the hall, feeling sick inside at Matt's behavior. He had never seen a man so thoroughly reduced. Was Matt on drugs? Sin wondered suddenly. Had he been so upset when Sin had left for band practice that he had gone out and bought something on the street? Sin didn't know for sure but he was certain that something was affecting Matt's mind more than just the encounter with his father.

"I'm a sinner," Matt groaned, his feet shuffling as Sin dragged him along.

"Shut up Matt!" Sin demanded harshly. In the bedroom he spun him around and forced him to sit on the edge of the bed. "You have been very bad Matt. You need to be punished."

Matt's head came up, his confusion so evident that Sin felt pity for him. The kid was lost in there, so jumbled up inside he didn't know what to think. Sin would tell him what to think though.

"You know you are mine now Matt. You said so yourself. You came to me, remember? You came begging to me. Pleading for me to take you back. Didn't you?" Matt didn't answer, only stared up at Sin. "Didn't you?" Sin shouted in his face.

"Yesss," Matt said quietly, the word slurred and drawn out.

"And yet I heard you tell that man that you would throw me out. Tell me to leave. Is that what you want Matt or is that what he told you to want?"

Matt didn't answer, he didn't seem to be able to understand the question. Sin slapped him across the face, careful to avoid the bruised side. He needed Matt to fear him, to fear him more than he had his father but Sin had no intentions of damaging him further.

"I am your master Matt. I am your lord and your Daddy. You will do as I say. You know you want to obey me." Sin reached down and grabbed Matt's cock through his jogging pants. Matt's eyes went wide as if he only just realized he was hard as a rock and not sure if he was in more trouble for it.

"You...you can't touch me," Matt whimpered, turning his face away. Sin grabbed his chin, turned his face back and kissed him deeply. Matt struggled but there was no strength in it. He didn't really want to get away. Sin could feel him tensing, fighting the conflicting emotions of fear and rising lust.

"You want me to touch you Matt. You love my hands on you, my mouth on you, my cock in you. You love me. Say it Matt, say you love me," Sin hissed in his ear.

"No, you are evil. You are a sin. I can't be with you."

Sin kissed him again, deeper. Matt didn't try to turn his head away this time. This time his tongue snaked out to touch Sin's. "Tell me you love me," Sin whispered insistently.

Matt sobbed, his body shaking. "I can't."

"Say it!" Sin roared.

"I...I love you," Matt complied but he wasn't meeting Sin's eyes.

"Say it with my name. And look me in the eye. Now!"

Matt's face was flushed as he turned to look up into Sin's eyes. His whole frame quivered. "I'm going to hell," Matt groaned.

"Say it!"

"I...I love you Sin."

"Good boy. Now you've been bad haven't you? You let another man lay hands on you. I won't tolerate that. Turn over Mathew."

Matt shook his head so Sin slapped him again. Matt flipped over. Sin yanked the jogging pants off of him and reached around to fondle Matt's cock. Matt pressed his face into the covers and sobbed even as he groaned. Sin stepped back and swung the paddle at Matt's ass. He heard Matt's breath hiss in surprise. He swung it again and again, watching the lovely cheeks turn red.

"Tell me you want me Matt," Sin demanded. "Tell me you love me. Say it!"

Matt complied, gasping at the stinging fire that rose in his ass cheeks.

"Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"No, I don't. I don't want to be bad!"

Sin swung the paddle again then stopped and bent over Matt, reaching around him to fondle his cock again. Matt rocked back and forth, seeking friction but crying into the covers.

"You know this is what you really need Matt. You need me. You want me. You want me to fuck you and keep you here with me. Don't you Matt? Stop denying it." Sin spread his large hands over Matt's ass knowing that the heat in his palms would increase the burning. It was a shame that Matt was already so damaged. There was no way now that he could properly enjoy the warm burn of a good spanking. "Ask me to fuck you. Ask me now."

"Please," Matt gasped out, his voice utterly desolate.

Sin sighed in relief. He hadn't been sure he could get Matt to say it. It was imperative for Matt to request it, even if he'd been told to. Now was the time to bring him down, to be easy with him and ease him out of the torment. Now was time for rewards.

"Good boy," Sin crooned to him, his hands soft and light on Matt's ass. "Ask for it Matt, tell me what you want."

"I want...I want you to fuck me, please."

Sin spread Matt's rosy cheeks and smiled at the sight of his lovely hole. Sin leaned in and kissed it, licked it. Matt's gasp of shocked pleasure sent a shiver through Sin and he lathed Matt with his tongue, forcing the tip just a little way in, tightening his grip on Matt's hips when he writhed with pleasure.

"Ask me again Matt. You've been so good. Ask me again."

"Please Sin!" Matt hissed, his hands fisting in the rumpled blankets. "Fuck me now!"

Sin smiled and reached over to get a tube of lubricant from the beside table drawer. He stepped out of his jeans but didn't bother to remove his shirt and jacket. He used the lubricant liberally, making sure to slick up until his cock glistened thickly. He tossed the tube aside, eager now to be Matt's ass. He had to go slowly though. He could not allow himself to inflict even the slightest amount of pain, only pleasure. He had to close this book and close it on his own chapter. Matt was still whimpering into the bedclothes. Sin put the head of his dick right against Matt's hole and rubbed it back and forth. He didn't press in though, he waited, teasing. Finally Matt seemed to realize that Sin was waiting for him to make his wishes known. "Please, please," Matt muttered and rocked his hips back. Sin slid into him slowly, carefully. There would be no pounding pace tonight, just a good long slow fucking. He reached around stroked Matt's cock in long expert strokes. Matt's whimpering turned to moans. His hips rocked back harder, controlling the pace. Sin let him do as he wanted, resisting his temptation to start slamming into Matt hard and fierce. Sin wasn't used to taking sex slowly and gently. It wasn't his normal style.

"I am your Master Matt. Don't you know by now that no one will care for you the way I do? That no one will look out for you the way I will?" Sin said softly but his breathing was becoming hard to control. He wanted to pick up the pace but Matt was still rocking slowly, his eyes tight shut, his mouth open and gasping. His face was turned to the side and Sin could see the bruise was continuing to darken. He wished he could have taken the time to make Matt ice it but there hadn't been a chance. He'd had to move quickly. Shut the door the reverend had opened and use it to his advantage before the chance was gone entirely. He himself would never have beaten a man that severely. True, he had once broken Matt's arm but it had been an accident, done in rage. No, he never would have taken Matt this far but now that it was done he would use it. He continued to croon to him, telling him he owned him, he loved him, that he would never let him go. He could tell that Matt was listening to every word and associating it with intense pleasure, pleasure following intense pain. His reward.

"You will never, ever let another man but me torture you again Matt. You will stand up and fight. You will defend yourself to the death. Do you understand? You are mine and mine alone. Say it Matt, tell me you understand."

"I am yours alone," Matt said softly, dreamily.

"Whatever your father said to you, whatever he told you to do or think, you forget it Matt. He's wrong. Only I am right. I am your Master. You will obey only me. You will love only me. Say it Matt, tell me you understand."

"I will only listen to you. Only you are right. I will obey," Matt sighed as Sin increased the pressure on the hand on Matt's cock, stroking him faster until Matt began to rock back excitedly. Sweat beaded and rolled down Sin's face. He wanted to cum, he needed to cum but not yet, not yet! Matt needed to be the first to blow. It was about who was in control and who wasn't. Sin gritted his teeth as Matt began to rock frantically, panting now, his lips moving silently. Finally Matt came with a convulsion that squeezed his ass so tight that Sin nearly cried out himself. He bit his lip to stifle it, his brows furrowed in painful concentration. Finally Matt slumped forward and Sin released Matt's cock and placed both hands on his hips once more.

"Tell me..." Sin gasped, unable now to control himself. "Tell me I'm your only master!"

"My master," Matt muttered and rocked his hips back harshly. Sin didn't even try to stop his shout of triumph and he came into Matt's ass. Sin bent forward and pulled Matt up as tight against him as he could as his cock jumped and drained into Matt's ass. Matt cried out suddenly in pain and Sin had to pull himself together, to release him more quickly than he had wanted to. Sin realized he had a hand on Matt's battered back and jerked it away afraid he may have undone all his careful work.

"Easy kid, it was an accident. I don't want to hurt you. It's okay. Come here," Sin soothed, helping Matt turn and sit up. Sin knelt between Matt's thighs, cupping his face. "You were wonderful. I am very pleased." He said softly, looking into Matt's eyes. Sin was concerned to see that Matt's gaze was unfocused, distant and dreamy. "I have a gift for you." Sin said, and Matt focused on him for a moment, a small strange smile playing around his mouth.

Sin rose and went back to the box in the closet. He sorted through it carefully, choosing the item he wanted and bringing it back to Matt before kneeling between his knees again. He held the collar up for Matt to see. Matt reached out and took it uncertainly. It was dark brown in color with a single metal ring inset into the wide leather and a simple buckle, very much like a dog's collar. It had the initials MDS burned into the leather.

"This is your first collar Matt. It only has one ring but you can earn more, later. You will wear it for me, at all times. It marks you as my property. You can have it because you have been good. Do you understand?"

Matt's eyes rose to meet Sin's. "Esty said you wouldn't give me a collar. He said you would never care enough to."

Sin frowned, anger bubbling up but he stamped it back down. He couldn't lose his temper with Matt, not right now.

"When did Estaban say that?" Sin asked carefully but Matt was fingering the collar and that weird smile was on his face again. Sin could see he was still in shock from the beating his father had given him but Sin's fucking had taken him somewhere else, not yet in the real world, some dream land. Sin wondered if Estaban had really told Matt that or if it was just part of Matt's confusion. Sin needed to get the kid cleaned up and doctored soon and put him to bed. Sleep is what Matt needed now more than anything. Sin took the collar from Matt's hands and reached up to buckle it around his neck. He kissed Matt tenderly and stood, taking Matt by the hand and leading him to the bathroom. He put the seat down on the toilet and sat Matt down on it. Matt obediently strained to relieve himself. Sin turned the faucets on and filled the bathtub only a quarter full. Sitting in deep water would be far too painful for Matt.

"Come on kid, wipe up and climb in. Go on," Sin finally took the time to shrug out of his jacket and t-shirt. He helped Matt ease down into the water and picked up a clean cloth. "This will hurt but it's not punishment. It's for your health. You don't want to get infection in the cuts on your back. Okay? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Matt nodded numbly and Sin began washing away the caked on blood from Matt's back. He was relived to see that none of the cuts were deep. Only the puncture wounds from the buckle's tongue worried him and there were few of those. He didn't want to hurt Matt so he tried to be gentle but there was no way to avoid causing some amount of pain. Silent tears ran down Matt's face and Sin knew it wasn't just the pain that brought them on, it was an emotional wound that would take months to heal once he came down from whatever drug he was on and remembered the events of the night. Matt would have to choose between his family and Sin. Now wasn't the time but soon. After Matt had recovered his wits he would have to make up his mind. There were no in between options.

Sin finally got Matt cleaned up to his satisfaction and put band-aids over the deepest of the puncture wounds. He got Matt tucked in to bed and lay down with him. "Lay your head on my shoulder Matt, come on kid." Matt complied, his arm snaking around Sin's waist and clinging tightly. He began to sob again, totally undone by his night of hell. Sin let him weep it out, smoothing his hair and crooning to him in a soft voice. Finally Matt cried himself out and fell asleep. Sin eased out from under his heavy form careful not to wake him. He left Matt sprawled across the bed and went to clean up the mess in the living room knowing that if Matt ever laid eyes on that scene it could send him over the edge of guilt once more. His father had really done a job on him.

Sin started gathering the photos first, taking time to examine each one. They were excellent shots. Sin smiled down at them. These he would definitely keep. He used his thumbnail to scrape a dried spot of Matt's blood off one the photographs and held it up to the light. It was a very clear shot of him leaning over Matt, Matt's ankles pushed back, his ass exposed, Matt's face a mask of sheer painful passionate rapture. Sin chuckled and added it to the stack he put on the coffee table. Yes, they were definitely excellent shots. Sin would have liked to know how the photographer had felt about them in the end. Was he proud of his work? Sin was sure he must have been. It seemed to him that they weren't just taken by a private investigator in a hurry to get damning evidence, though he had no doubt that a PI had taken them. But he must have enjoyed the job. The pictures were carefully center with the window used as a frame. None were blurred or hurried shots. He had chosen these from the rest because they were crisp, shocking, extremely explicit and beautifully centered. McKenna had found an artist to take those pictures. Sin had no doubt at all that McKenna had to be behind it once again.

The bible pages made a much larger mess. Sin picked up the empty cover and used it as a folder, picking up each page and laying it neatly inside the cover. They were out of order, some of them upside down and backwards but that didn't matter. He intended to keep it too. One day he might even return it to the good reverend, just for spite. The belt he hesitated over. For some odd reason he didn't want to touch it. Finally he forced himself to stoop and pick it up, draping it over the bible in his hand.

Sin carried the book and the photographs back to the bedroom, careful not to wake Matt as he opened yet another of his packing boxes. He had his own small lockbox and he opened it with a key retrieved from a hidden inner pocket of his jacket. The box was only half full and the photos, book and belt fit inside easily beside a stack of bills that equaled about ten thousand dollars and few scattered dog eared photographs. The cash was running money. He never knew when he needed to be able to leave a city quickly. Sin picked up one of the old photographs and carried it to the window for light. He was only fourteen in the photograph, his arm looped carelessly and companionably around Daniel's thin young shoulders. He had told Matt that he hadn't loved Daniel, that they had just been experimenting with sex, a fun fuck. He had lied. Sin had loved Daniel with every part of his being, adored every inch of him. Sin had never loved anyone else like he had Daniel, except for maybe Matt and Daniel had died from that love. Sin glanced over at the bed, at Matt's still form sprawled out on his stomach. Even in the darkness he could see the shadows of the bruises and cuts on Matt's back. He could also see the dark outline of the new collar.

Sin sighed and looked out the window, doubts assailing him. Had he been wrong? Of course he had. He had acted selfishly once again. He should have just left like the reverend had told him to do. Matt would have healed slowly but he would have healed. He would probably have gone home to his folks, started going back to church, found a girl, gotten married and started a new life. Instead Sin had led him into a life of sexual servitude. Sin had wanted to keep Matt all to himself. He had cut him off from his family and his friends and used Matt's pain to get into his head. Daniel had died from Sin trying to possess him. Matt could have too. He still could.

Sin returned the photo of Daniel to the lockbox and secured the lid before putting it back into the packing box under several other items. He returned to the living room to clean up the small spatters and drops of blood. When he went into the kitchen to get a wet cloth for the clean up he saw the tin of Miss Sylvia's tea on the counter. With a groan he picked it up and opened it, peering inside. He wasn't sure how much had been in there to start with but he knew any amount at all would have been a very bad thing to have in his system when Matt faced his father. Sin could remember how quickly the tea had knocked him out when Sylvia had given some to him and he remembered too that it had made him feel dreamy, lost in another world before sleep had overtaken him. Yes, this was definitely the answer to Matt's strange behavior. Sin realized suddenly just how deeply he had gotten into Matt's mind. Every word he had said to him would be impressed on Matt's subconscious forever, weather he remembered it later or not. It was an extremely deep form of hypnotism and brainwashing, torture and pleasure, commands given and reinforced. Had Sin left when the reverend had told him to then the message left in Matt's mind would have been the reverend's alone. Sin though had gone in and erased all that then replaced it with his own message. Troubled Sin put the tea tin back in the cabinet and went to clean Matt's blood off the wall. When he finished he took a chair into the bedroom and sat down in it, watching over Matt's sleeping form, worrying over what the morning might bring but worrying more over what might spring from the seeds planted deep within Matt's mind.

©2006

I'd like to thank those special readers who take the time to write to me and keep me going. I want to especially thank Rita, Jack 2 (I'm the only #1 Jack mind you) G.R, Janice, J.G.P., Leila, Miss Anti-Bush and Dean. You folks know who you are.

Jack