By Jack Llawayllynn
Chapter 22: Sliced
Matt tried to be sneaky about going to Miss Sylvia's house. He took odd turns and twists to a road that came near her back yard. Sin swayed dangerously all too often. Matt pulled up into a stranger's drive and cut through their yard to the back of Miss Sylvia's house. He cut the engine and dismounted, watching Sin sway drunkenly as he dismounted.
"Where the hell are we?" Sin asked, his words slurred.
"Miss Sylvia's" Matt answered quietly.
"Aw, hell no! Matt! I told you I wasn't ready to see her yet!" Sin's voice was nearly pleading, lacking the strength to be demanding.
"Well, I'm ready for you to see her. Sin, you'll bleed to death if you keep this shit up!"
"Whatever. I'm going home," Sin snapped as he threw his helmet to the ground and turned to walk away. Each step was short and wobbly. Matt caught up in four strides and grabbed Sin's arm. Sin nearly went to his knees and Matt stooped to catch him and heave him up into his arms. "Put me down, asshole," Sin growled but Matt ignored him. He carried him up onto Miss Sylvia's back porch and used the heel of his boot to rap loudly on the door. The back porch light flared almost immediately and Matt could hear a variety of locks opening before Miss Sylvia threw the door open.
"Finally!" she breathed, stepping back and waving Matt into the kitchen. "I've been waiting for you two since yesterday! I knew he was injured and that it was bad. Why didn't you bring him to me yesterday?"
"He refused to come," Matt said simply as he gently deposited Sin into a chair at the kitchen table. Sin slumped to one side, his hand slapping down on the table as he tried to steady himself, unaware that Matt still had a fist wrapped in his jacket to prevent Sin from falling out into the floor.
"Hello, Auntie Sylvie," Sin said, his voice low and full of venom.
"So, Robert told you, did he? I wasn't sure he had gotten the chance to before you shot him in the chest," Miss Sylvia snapped back, her voice as cold as Sin's.
"I didn't shoot him." Sin glared up at her with dim eyes. "Seems you don't read your dreams as well as you claim."
Miss Sylvia snorted and turned away, rummaging in a drawer for a large pair of scissors. She handed them to Matt and told him to cut Sin's pant leg up past the wound.
"Hey! These are my favorite jeans!" Sin complained when Matt knelt to comply.
"We'll buy you more, hold still!"
"So, tell me what happened if I am wrong," Miss Sylvia demanded, her hands on her hips.
"No, you tell me what you THINK happened. Let's see just how far we can test these supposed dreams of yours."
Miss Sylvia sighed and dropped into a chair across from Sin. "That's fair I suppose. I dreamed of you and Matt standing over Robert. Robert was in some kind of office chair, with swords on the wall behind him. He had a bloody hole in his chest and you had a dagger of some kind stuck in your thigh. He was coughing up blood. I couldn't hear what he was saying but his mouth was moving. Then I dreamed of you and Matt stuffing money into your jackets and I woke up. I just haven't been able to bear turning on the news or the radio since then. I...I didn't like Robert and I'm sure he got what he deserved but he was my nephew. Hearing about his death on the television would make my dream all too real."
"Well, it was real," Matt said as he finished cutting the pants up to the hip and then began to cut away the bloody bandages. "But it was Katherine who shot McKenna, not me or Sin."
"Katherine! Why would Katherine do that?" Miss Sylvia asked, clutching at her heart.
"Because she hated McKenna, hated him for fathering Sin before he met her. It was all her doing all along. She killed McKenna and she shot Daniel too. She was a crazy evil bitch," Matt said and flung the cut bandages into the garbage can near the door.
"My god! Why didn't I ever see that? Why didn't my dreams show me that? I should have known it was her all along! Robert was too simple minded to plot out such devious attacks against Michael. I should have seen that! Matt, get me a glass of water and my heart pills, please," Miss Sylvia begged. "The pills are on the table by my bed."
Matt took one look at her pale face and darted away for the pills. He tossed them onto the kitchen table and skidded to a halt near the sink, nearly dropping the glass twice before he got water into it. He took it back and carefully put it in her hand before opening the pill bottle for her and shaking out a pill into her quivering palm. Miss Sylvia swallowed the pill and reached up to pat Matt's arm. "Such a good boy you are Matt. I saw you in my dreams for weeks before we actually met. I knew you were the one for my Michael. You and only you."
"Your Michael is over here bleeding out," Sin said harshly.
"And you just might be right," Miss Sylvia agreed and heaved herself up, looking a little less pale. She grabbed Sin's wrist and counted his pulse. "Are you on drugs Michael?"
"Yes, I am. Fuck you anyway."
Miss Sylvia slapped his face and Sin nearly fell out of his chair. She hadn't hit him all that hard, he was just very weak. Miss Sylvia took a startled step back.
"How long has he been bleeding like that?"
"On and off since it happened. He had a gig with his band tonight but I had to do some of the songs for him. Still, he was dripping blood by the end of it," Matt answered her.
"It isn't pouring but it's oozing steadily. Matt, I want you to sit in his lap."
"What?" Matt asked, blinking.
"Straddle that thigh and sit on it, put pressure on it while I go mix up a salve. Really, I don't understand why you didn't just bring him straight to me. I could have stitched that wound but now it's too late, it's already getting infected. If he wouldn't come to me then why didn't you take him to a hospital? Really Matt, I hold you responsible for this!"
"Me?" Matt demanded as he straddled Sin's thigh and sat down gingerly, putting only part of his weight on the leg, just enough to stem the slow oozing of blood. Sin ground his teeth and cursed lustily, his head falling back against the back of the chair.
"Yes, you! Who else in the world will look after him? You are all he has! He's your responsibility! Really Matt, I'm so mad at you I could beat you soundly around the ears!" Miss Sylvia averred as she banged around in the cabinets. "What he really should probably have is a blood transfusion. He's lost too much already! Maybe you should just take him straight to Dr. Jamison after I wrap that leg back up."
"No!" Sin bellowed. "I will not have blood! I don't believe in that shit!"
Matt swiveled his head around in puzzlement.
"They don't screen it well," Sin said tiredly. "You wouldn't believe how many people get a fatal disease from blood transfusions every year. Dr. Jamison has a no blood order in my chart. She wouldn't let you do it to me."
Miss Sylvia sighed. "He's right, blood transfusions are bloody dangerous, pun intended, but no more so than the risky way he leads his sex life!"
"What do you know about my sex life?" Sin demanded.
"Way too much!" Miss Sylvia snapped back. "I told Matt the truth once, that not everything I know comes from dreams. I've had more than one private detective on your trail for years now!"
"What? What gives you the right to have me tailed?" Sin demanded, trying to push Matt off of his lap. Matt hooked his hands under the chair and wouldn't budge. Sin punched him ineffectively in the back but did stop trying to throw Matt off into the floor.
"Because you were only one of two living relatives that I had left and you were living your life like there was no tomorrow. Now you are the only living relative I have left and I'll be damned if I'm going to watch you bleed to death in my kitchen! Move your ass now Matt and help me with this." Miss Sylvia shoved a hot bowl into Matt's hands and Matt hurried to comply. He watched Sin with pity as she roughly used her freshly washed hands to force some of the gooey green poultice from the bowl into Sin's wound. Sin thrashed his head and ground his teeth but otherwise remained still. "Go get those clean bandages off the counter!" Miss Sylvia snapped and Matt hopped quickly to get them. She tied them tightly around Sin's leg and stood, looking very old and frail. With a deep sigh she lowered herself into the chair across from Sin again.
"Are you okay Miss Sylvia? Maybe I should take you to the hospital along with him."
Miss Sylvia laughed softly. "You'd have a hell of a lot harder time getting me to go to a doctor than him. I can take care of my own self. I have one doctor for my heart problems and that's all I need."
"Stubbornness runs in the family, I see," Matt said as he turned a chair around backwards and straddled it. Sin and Miss Sylvia snorted in unison then glared at one another as if the other had done it on purpose. Matt shook his head, hiding a grin. "Just so long as you don't start dreaming the future I guess I can handle it."
"He could though," Miss Sylvia said quietly. "It tends to skip a generation, like twins. Robert didn't have it in him but Daniel might have, and Michael could as well."
"Shit," Matt said disgustedly. "That's all we need!"
"Matt, take Michael to the couch so he can rest. I'd give him some tea for the pain but I can't since he's already self-medicated with his nasty street drugs." Miss Sylvia glared at Sin but Sin's eyes had slipped closed. When Matt hefted him up out of the chair Sin only muttered under his breath, his head lolling. Matt got him settled on the couch and returned to Miss Sylvia.
"What happened to the dagger that was in his leg? He didn't pull it out and leave it in Roberts house did he?"
"No. It's at the apartment. It wasn't a real dagger, it was actually just a letter opener shaped like one."
"That's even worse, means it was very dull on at least one side, and probably fairly dull on the other as well. I guess it was Katherine that stuck it in his leg?"
"Katherine is dead too?"
Matt nodded again, suddenly very relieved to realize that Miss Sylvia had not seen Katherine's death in her dreams.
Miss Sylvia sighed, partly in relief, partly in grief. "I'm glad to know Robert wasn't as evil as I had thought him to be. Make no mistake, he was NOT a good man, but at least he wasn't tormenting his own son all these years."
"He told Sin that, pretty much admitted he was a rapist. He said he thought his soul was going straight to hell."
Miss Sylvia sighed again. "And it might have. No one really knows what the afterlife holds in store for them. For now though that is not our concern. I want you to go to the apartment and get that letter opener. It most certainly does not need to be in Michael's possession. Bring him some clean pants too, something loose. Jogging pants if he has them."
"Tonight?" Matt asked in dismay, feeling exhaustion tugging at him.
"Yes, right now. And that tainted cash too. Neither of you needs it and I'll put it away for you." Miss Sylvia nodded sleepily. "I'll wait up for you. You go straight there and come straight back."
Matt heaved himself to his feet and dragged his tired body outside. He strapped Sin's helmet to the back of the bike and pulled his own over his head wishing like hell he could just go lay down on the floor beside the couch and go to sleep. He was tempted to check his voicemail when he reached the apartment but decided he was too tired, that it could wait for the morning. His throat was beginning to burn like fire and he feared he might be coming down with something. He gathered the money, the letter opener, Sin's cane and a pair of dark blue jogging pants for Sin and carried them down to pack them into the saddle bags. Miss Sylvia was waiting for him at the door when he arrived back. He handed her the money and the dried bloody wad of bandanas that encased the letter opener then made a beeline for the living room. Sin was sound asleep on the couch and Matt didn't hesitate to push the coffee table away and flop down in the floor. Miss Sylvia padded in quietly and bent down to urge a pillow under his head and cover him with a blanket. Matt slipped immediately into sleep, feeling safe and protected.
* * * *
Matt woke with a start, covered in sweat, feeling that something was terribly wrong. He heaved up off of the floor, every muscle aching. Performing on the stage the night before had been a hell of a lot more work than he had realized. He glanced over at the couch, found it empty and started to panic. He didn't even bother to check if Sin was in the bathroom. He knew he wasn't. He raced to the back door and found it unlocked before wrenching it open. The motorcycle was gone. Matt's helmet sat neatly on the top step. Matt stooped to pick it up and a folded note floated out from it. Matt groaned and flipped the paper open, knowing he would see Sin's bold writing scrawled over the page.
"Matt," it read, "I feel I've turned you into a monster like me. What we did together at that house... you know where I mean... that was not it in your nature, that was only in mine. How can I stay with you knowing what I've done to you? I've severed you from your family, your friends. It can't go on. I'll only destroy you, one small piece at a time. I would have taken your collar but I knew you would wake up if I touched it. This is my last command to you: Do not try to follow me. Go to the motorcycle shop and see Stan. He has instructions from me. You know you have to obey me in this. Maybe this will help free you from the suggestions I planted in your mind when you drank that damned poisonous tea. Go live your life kid, be normal. Not like me. I will always be alone."
Sin had scrawled his name across the bottom with no farewell. He hadn't even had the courtesy to use the word "love" or "sincerely" or any other polite ending. Just his name slashed so hard across the bottom of the page that it had ripped through at the end of it. Matt crumbled the letter in his fist and threw it as far as he could. Suddenly feeling panicky he ran after it, smoothed it in his hands, folded it neatly and tucked it in his pocket. He had to tell Miss Sylvia and she was not going to be in the least bit happy about this turn of events. Matt gritted his teeth thinking of his "last command". Go to Stan huh? Did Sin really believe that Matt didn't know that Stan would take his collar? That wasn't going to happen, not in a million years!
"He's gone isn't he?" Miss Sylvia's voice asked behind him, tired and cracked, defeated. Matt turned slowly and faced her, nodding. She looked terrible, older than imaginable. "He took about half of the money you brought from the apartment last night, and the letter opener too. I hope he doesn't plan to keep that as a souvenir. I wish I had felt better last night, I would have gotten rid of it then but my heart..." She trailed off then sighed. "If I hadn't been feeling so drawn from the shock of it all I might have heard him leave, might have been able to stop him. But I was so very tired. I didn't dream at all. I have no idea where to tell you to look for him. Maybe I will dream tonight."
"He could have gone anywhere Miss Sylvia, anywhere."
"Or nowhere," she said, her face brightening suddenly. "He loves you Matt. Deeply. I know he does. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he's at the apartment right now, warring with himself."
Matt shook his head sadly. "He thinks he's turned me into a monster. He feels guilty over what my father did. He feels he is the cause of the rift between me and my family. He thinks he's doing what's best for me. He thinks this is how to show he cares. By letting me go."
Miss Sylvia made a vexed sound and turned away into the kitchen, putting a pot of coffee on to percolate. "What did the note say?"
"It said I wasn't to follow him," Matt sighed and threw himself into a chair at the table.
"It was a command, not a request."
"And you have to follow all of his commands?" Miss Sylvia asked quietly.
Matt laughed without mirth. "He believes I can't help myself. He believes that he planted suggestions into my mind the night I drank the tea. He believes he's brainwashed me."
She was silent until the pot finished gurgling, poured out two cups and set one before Matt. "And has he? You seem to be content to sit and do as his note said, not follow him."
"Where am I to follow him to? I don't know where he's gone, you don't either. Where would I start?" Matt asked defeated, his hands cupping the mug.
"You could look for clues at your apartment. Really, I thought you'd been frantically on the phone trying to get a cab out here by now. Maybe he really has brainwashed you. That tea is powerful stuff and you mixed it way too strong. What else did he tell to or not to do?"
"He said I was to go see his friend Stan."
"When are you going to go see Stan?" she asked, watching him through filmy eyes.
"I won't be going to see Stan!" Matt snapped. "I'm going to the apartment. Right now." He stood and strode to the phone on the wall and called for a cab before sitting back down at the table. Sweat beaded on his brow and he wiped it away without noticing it. Sylvia noticed it though.
"You know Matt, hypnotism is only a very strong form of suggestion. You don't have to follow it. You can fight it off. And there is only so much you can plant in a person's mind. You can't really force them to do anything against their will or nature. Do you remember the things he said to you?"
Matt flushed but nodded. He did remember, every word of what Sin had said, but very little of what his father had said that night.
"Good. Then he didn't tell you not to remember. If you are following his instructions it means that a part of you wants to. As I said, he can't plant anything in your mind that goes against your will. Only the most skilled can even come close to that. Hypnotism is a tricky thing. For example, if you take a sweet and loving school teacher, hypnotize her and tell her to kill a student she won't do it. She won't understand why the thought ever entered her head, she'd be horrified by it and block it out entirely. Now, if you took the same teacher and told her under hypnotism that at, oh say, right before lunch, a child would walk into the classroom with a gun in his hand and open fire on her class that would be a different story. The first child that walked into the room around that time would appear, to her, to be holding a gun, and she may try to tackle him at the least, if not kill him, in an attempt to save her other students. The hypnotist of course must make sure to tell her that she would never remember having been hypnotized to start with. If you remember every word that Michael said to you then you know exactly what has been planted in your mind. You can fight it or go along with it as you wish."
Matt shifted uncomfortably, reviewing in his mind all that Sin had told him that night. Absolute obedience was one of the things demanded of him but Matt knew there had been a few times since then that he hadn't obeyed absolutely. He'd been angry, sulky, or just plain stubborn at times and done as he wished. Other times he had indeed obeyed Sin even when to do so terrified him, like performing in front of a crowd as he had done last night. Had it been Sin's hypnotic suggestions that had given him the balls to get up on stage for the first time in his life and make it through the entire set without fucking up once? Maybe. But deep down he had really wanted to do it, both for himself and to please Sin, to make him proud.
The sound of a horn outside brought Matt out of his thoughts and he climbed to his feet. "Taxi's here," he muttered.
Miss Sylvia stood as well. "Wait just a moment," she said and bustled away, returning quickly with a large stack of money. "Take this with you. You may need it on your trip. There is no telling how long or how far you'll have to travel to catch up with him. Get a cell phone and call me with the number so I can contact you if I hear anything myself."
"This is McKenna's money?" Matt asked as he scattered it through his pockets. Miss Sylvia nodded.
"Just be careful about flashing it around. I would rather that neither of you had touched it but Michael took a lot of it, no sense in trying to hide it here now. Go on with you. Find him."
Matt nodded numbly and stepped out the front door as the taxi driver laid on the horn a second time. When Matt was settled into the back seat he gave the driver his address then flushed in horror. It hadn't been his address at the apartment at all. It had been the address to Stan's store. Matt gritted his teeth and corrected himself, clenching his fists as he forced out the words of his own street address. Damn Sin to Hell! He thought viciously. He'd be damned if he was going to go to Stan!
At the apartment Matt went through each room carefully. The only sign that Sin had indeed been there this morning was that there was an open lockbox in the bottom of the closet. Matt suspected it had held several objects at one time but now all it held were three things, a stack of explicit photos showing Sin and Matt having lurid sex, a battered bible and a belt, coiled like a venomous snake. Matt snapped the box shut with a shudder. Standing and flipping through the clothes hanging in the closet Matt deduced that Sin had taken one, maybe two changes of clothing and his leather jacket, left behind last night when he had worn the highwayman's coat. That coat Matt found inside the washing machine, wet from being washed. Matt threw it in the dryer and sat staring off into space, slow minutes ticking by, no real solid thoughts in his mind. The dryer buzzed and went off. Matt took the jacket out, shook the wrinkles out roughly and slowly carried down the hall to longingly hang it on a coat hanger. He just wasn't sure what to do from here. He didn't own a car. He'd have to go and buy one. But where to start looking?
The ringing of the phone startled Matt and he leapt around, staring at it dumbly, his heart racing. With a steadying breath and a shake of the head at his own stupidity he lifted it from the hook.
"Yeah?" he answered dully.
"Where the fuck have you two been? I've been trying to call for two days! I've left dozens of messages, and now your voicemail is full. Haven't you two been watching the fucking news? How is Sin's leg?"
"Been? News? Leg?" Matt knit his brow together trying to sort Estaban's questions.
"Damn it Matt! Wake up! Surely you two have seen the news! What is Sin saying about it? Is he there?"
"Slow down Esty. I haven't seen the news. We had to do a gig and Sin threw me onstage to spell him. We just haven't had time to catch up on the news."
"You? On stage? As in fronting for Chains?" Estaban asked, taken off his guard.
"Shit, wished I could have seen that. But never mind it. McKenna is alive."
Matt staggered as his knees weakened and he sat down hard on the floor.
"The maid. She came back early. Apparently Miss Katherine didn't do as much damage as it looked like she did. Look, we really shouldn't be talking like this on the phone."
Matt agreed heartily. "Where is Drift?"
"Madrid." There was a deep longing in Estaban's voice, an echo of despair.
"Yes, on the plane on the way there anyway. Where is Sin?"
"We don't know. I took him to Miss Sylvia last night. He was bleeding pretty badly after the gig. He snuck out in the night. Left a note for me, telling me not to follow him."
"Oh shit Matt! I'm so sorry! I did try to warn you."
"Fuck off Estaban. I'll find him."
"Not if he doesn't want to be found you won't. He's screwed you, me, Drift and his band members. Guess you are the new front guy for Chains now."
"Shit!" Matt spat out knowing that if he weren't already seated on the floor he would have fallen. The effects of Sin's disappearance on the band hadn't even occurred to Matt. "No. No! I'll find him! I have to!"
"Where? Where are you going to look? Surely by now he's seen the news. He won't stop running. Not that anyone is looking for him, or you. He just won't let himself be found again. Not by you and certainly not by his father. Look, like I said, I don't think we should say too much about this on the phone. Go get a newspaper, turn on the television, something. It's on nearly every channel. I have to go. I have a plane to catch tomorrow. Julio is going to take care of my kitties for me until I decide if I'm staying in Madrid or coming back next month. Have a good life Matt. Don't go looking for Sin. You won't find him. Just try to move on. We all have to learn to live again after Sin sweeps through. It will take you a long time but you're strong. Goodbye Matt."
The line was long dead before Matt was able to rouse himself and replace the phone on the hook. Matt staggered into the living room and flipped on the television, seeking a news channel. Sure enough the McKenna story was still hot stuff and a leggy brunette was talking into a microphone, her hair whipping attractively behind her as she stood in front of the imposing bulk of the best hospital in the country.
"Senator McKenna is still in critical but stable condition. Police say that he is able to talk and has given a full statement. He continues to speak with police daily in hopes that he can help them tie this case up. Insiders say that Senator McKenna is still crushed over the betrayal by his wife of nearly thirty five years, Katherine McKenna. Katherine McKenna was found dead in their home, strangled and nearly decapitated after the killers she hired to kill the Senator turned on her instead and then robbed the McKenna home, leaving the Senator for dead. The McKenna's were home alone at the time of the attack, both the maid and their gardener taking time off. It was the maid, one Rosia Maria Lopez that found the Senator and called for emergency help, saving his life. To add scandal to tragedy Senator McKenna has proclaimed his intentions of marrying Ms Lopez, his maid, as soon, he says, as he can stand long enough to say his vows. He admits to have been having a long time affair with her and declares that no time is required of him to mourn a wife who tried to have him murdered. Senator McKenna lost his only son to suicide some twenty years ago..." She prattled on a bit longer before finally getting to the information Matt most wanted to know, information about the killers. McKenna had provided information to a sketch artist and Matt leaned forward fearfully to stare at them when they finally appeared on the screen. Neither of the sketches resembled Matt, Sin, Estaban or Drift in the least. In fact, one of the sketches was an almost perfect rendition of the man who had shot Trish down in the street. The other was of a square faced Caucasian man that Matt had never seen before in his life. Matt finally released the breath he had been holding, clicked off the television and leaned his head back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
A thunderous pounding at the door brought Matt to his feet in a scramble for a gun. He located one quickly and went to cautiously peer out of the peep hole, seeing only a large swath of cloth over a massive chest as the man leaned in to pound on the door once more.
"Matt! Open the door kid! You have an appointment that you don't need to miss!"
Stan! Oh god, Matt thought, not Stan!
"Go away Stan! I'm not feeling good!" Matt blurted out.
"Oh, now kid, quit sulking and let me in. I know Sin was supposed to take you for your appointment but he can't help it that he had to go see after his sick Auntie. Now let me in."
Matt hesitated, trying to figure out just what Stan really had in mind for him. "I don't know anything about an appointment!" he finally shouted at the door.
"You're driving test kid! For your motorcycle license! Come on, open up! We're going to be late!"
Matt opened the door hurriedly. So Sin had set up an appointment to get his motorcycle license had he? Well, that could only mean one thing...Sin wanted to be found! He knew Matt had no car, that he'd be looking for wheels, that he'd been told to see Stan. Of course Sin wanted to be found! He just needed Matt to prove that he could break the command not to follow him.
"I forgot!" Matt said, grinning happily now. "I'll get my jacket!"
He didn't see the soft, deep sadness in Stan's eyes as he hurried away. Stan reached in his pocket and felt the long length of looped leather there. This was going to be so damned hard! He liked Matt a lot and this was going to break his heart. He wanted to kill Sin for making him do this but damn, he owed Sin. Owed him a lot. Sin had saved Kim's life once. How could one every repay a debt like that? Stan knew one thing though, having to do this to Matt would go a long way toward erasing that debt.
Stan made Matt quickly read through a handbook on motorcycle traffic laws before they left the apartment. Sin said that Matt was a quick study and Stan hoped he was right. He made him read through it again as they waited their turn in line. They had taken Stan's heavy bike, Matt clinging on happily behind the giant man but had no trouble at all in acing the test on the heavy bike himself.
"I need to go to your shop Stan," Matt said, grinning proudly. "I need to buy a bike."
Stan nodded but only said, "Yeah, I was planning taking you there anyway. Hop on kid."
At the shop Matt got a chuckle over seeing Kim at the register, looking too small, too foreign, and too feminine to be running the cash register in such a macho place. He gave them a small smile and wave before turning back to a customer who was purchasing some unknown part in a small white box.
"Which one suits me?" Matt asked giddily as turned toward the showroom of motorcycles."
"The one that Sin paid for this morning," Stan said gruffly and pointed to a beautiful black machine in the corner. "All you have to do is fill out the papers."
"Sin already bought me one?" Matt asked, his spirits soaring. He had planned on using McKenna's money to buy one himself but knowing that Sin had already taken care of it gave him more hope than he'd had all day. It was all the more reason to believe that Sin was telling him, in his own way, to follow, and soon. Matt was more than ready to hit the road. He didn't want Sin to get too far ahead of him. First though he had to figure out where to start looking for the slippery bastard. Surely Sin wasn't going to make this easy for him. Not this easy.
"There's a catch though," Stan said, and his eyes were hard on Matt's.
"What catch?" Matt asked warily, his hand going up to his collar. Stan watched Matt's shaky hand touch the collar and knew that getting it off of him was going to be damned hard.
"I get to have you at the club tonight. All night." Stan pulled his hand from the pocket of his leather jacket and Matt immediately recognized the leash in his hand. He didn't have to see Sin's initials burned in the leather.
"So, Sin turned my leash over to you did he? For how long?" Matt asked warily.
So Sin wanted a head start did he? Well fine. Matt would play his damn game. He didn't miss the surprise in Stan's eyes when he just nodded complacently.
"Kim will help you with the papers on your bike. Go fill them out. When you are done you can go home and shower, fuck around, whatever. But I expect you to meet me at the club tonight at 9:00 sharp, understood?"
"Yes, I understand. I'll be there." Matt wasn't overly concerned. Stan had not tried to take his collar. Sin had given over the leash for only a single night and Stan wasn't by any means a chore to cater to at the club. This was just a small set back, nothing that couldn't be handled. He cheerily went to fill out the paperwork on his new motorcycle. If his mind hadn't been so deeply involved in trying to puzzle out where to start looking for Sin first he might have noticed how uneasy Kim was around him, his smiles forced, his easy manner faked.
Matt didn't go straight home. He took his time cruising around, enjoying himself, learning the feel of his new bike. Miss Sylvia had been right about the weather. It was pleasantly warm but still he wore his jacket. It was something that Sin had once warned him about, that no matter the weather he always wore his leather when on the bike. Road rash was no fun at all. Finally Matt went home, not feeling the desolation he had earlier in the day. Sin wanted him to follow him, to find him, to prove that he could. It was just another of Sin's tests and Matt knew he could pass it. He showered, shaved and dressed casually. He knew it didn't matter what he wore to the club. He'd be naked except for his collar once he passed through the door anyway. He waited for Stan outside, surprised when he arrived without Kim.
"Come on kid," Stan said to him gruffly after attaching the leash to Matt's collar. Matt frowned. Something was wrong. Stan was not at all his usual jovial self and not once had he pinched or slapped Matt's ass. They went through the usual ritual with Trev checking them over but Trev turned to Matt gravely before passing them through.
"Your leash is being held by a new Master. You have free will in choosing to enter with him or not."
"It's okay, Sin said so," Matt shrugged.
"You understand that since Sin is not here and Stan is holding your leash that you must obey him as you would Sin."
Matt nodded. Trev continued to frown. "You could still be stolen, don't forget that. If another Master manages to snatch your leash then you are under his commands either until he lets you go, you escape or until the four hours are up. If you fight him then you have gone rogue."
Matt frowned but nodded, feeling a little better when he saw Stan's huge hand clamp down tighter on his leash. "It's okay. I trust Master Stan. I will obey him."
Trev nodded but did not smile. His usual jovial attitude also eerily missing tonight. Stan led Matt into the lounge. Immediately several heads turned, astonished eyes fixed on them. Razor was there, leaning indolently against a wall, Froggie laying prostate flat on the floor under one large boot. Razor immediately hauled Froggie up by his leash and sauntered over.
"Well, well, isn't that Sin's pet you have there Stan?"
"Tonight he's mine," Stan growled deeply, sounding more furious than Matt could fathom.
"I'll try as hard to snatch him from you as I would from Sin. I want him. Just to play with and throw away of course. He surely couldn't be as entertaining as my Froggie." Razor's hand ran gently over Froggie's head and the boy actually purred like a cat. So, Matt thought, Froggie was not tortured without relief after all. And, it seemed, he was more precious to Razor than Matt would have guessed.
"Matt is mine for now Razor. Don't test me. I won't let go of him and I won't relax, not tonight. You won't have a chance at him." Stan glared hatefully.
Razor shrugged and turned. "We'll see." Froggie followed him, not needing to be dragged, still making that strangely inhuman purring noise.
"I hate that arrogant fucker," Stan muttered under his breath. "I was hoping he wouldn't be here tonight. Come on kid, we're going upstairs."
Matt's brows rose but he didn't question his instructions. He was aware of many stares and whispers as Stan led him to a stairway near the back of the house and up two flights without pausing. The stairwell let out into what looked very much like an upper class hotel hallway, the doors closed and numbered. Stan took Matt to the door marked 3, produced a key card from his leather clothing and lead Matt inside. Matt stopped stark still and was brought stumbling into the room by a rough jerk on his leash. The room was white. All white. A room for bloodshed. The walls where thinly padded and a single bed sat in one corner. There were straps attached to both the walls and the bed. A toilet and sink sat behind a small white screen nearby.
"What the fuck Stan?" Matt demanded, turning to the bigger man in stunned anger. Stan backhanded him across the face with a huge paw. Matt fell heavily to the floor and Stan placed a foot on his windpipe.
"You will refer to me as Master. I will refer to you as Pet. You have no name until you have completed your task. You will not speak to me unless I tell you to, understand?"
Matt wheezed, both hands on Stan's massive ankle, but managed to nod. What the fuck was going on here? Stan removed his foot, hauled Matt up and pushed him over to the bed. Stan quickly snapped a new collar on Matt, above Sin's collar. This one was no slave collar, it was for restraint. Matt heard it lock as it snapped shut. A cable ran from the collar to the wall where it was firmly attached to a metal plate. He would be able to reach the bed, the toilet and the sink but not the door. He stared up at Stan stupefied.
"Take off Sin's collar and you can leave," Stan said, stepping away.
Matt started to say no, remembered he was not allowed to speak and instead shook his head vehemently.
"Sin told me to tell you to take off your collar. Now do it!" Stan roared at him. Again Matt shook his head no, his hands instead clutching the side of the mattress that he sat upon.
"Do I need to beat you to get you to mind me?" Stan growled. Matt just looked at him. "Answer me damn it!"
"Beat me to death if you want to Sta...Master," he corrected himself. "But I'll not remove my collar, and neither will you. If Sin wanted it off of me he should have taken it off himself!"
"Amen to that!" Stan ground out between his teeth. "He said getting you to remove it yourself was going to be very difficult. But he also said that he wants you to do it. So no, I won't be beating you, it's not in my nature. But you won't leave this house until you take it off."
"What!" Matt exploded, rising to his feet and giving a jerk to the new collar, testing it. "You can't keep me here!"
"Oh yes, Pet, I can. Until my chore is done."
"Probably. But you won't ever report it or anything at all about this house. Sin set it up with me and Trev both. He said all I needed to do was to inform you that Trev holds the letter opener. I don't know what that means..." Stan trailed off as Matt's face went stark white and he sat back down heavily on the bed. If Trev had the letter opener then that meant that Sin had given him instructions to turn it over to the police if Matt threatened to endanger the club in anyway. That would not only implicate Matt in the McKenna affair but would eventually also pull down Sin, Drift, Estaban and Simon as well. Sin would throw them all to the wolves, himself included, if Matt even thought about running his mouth. And Sin, Matt knew, really would do it. Sin cared about nothing and no one. He was throwing Matt away. He didn't want Matt to find him. Hell, he was just toying with him, again, from wherever the hell he'd run off to this time. Matt felt his eyes start to sting.
"Well, I see it's true enough. I don't need to ask what the letter opener means. Look, I'm real sorry kid. I hate this, more than you know, but I owe a debt and this is how he asked me to pay it. Just take the damned collar off, give it to me and this can all be over with now, for you and me both. Please."
Matt didn't even realize he was sobbing now but still he shook his head, his hands protecting the collar. "No," he croaked out. "No, I won't take it off! Sin will come for me!"
"Look kid, he's not coming back, okay? He's paid off all his debts to me and everyone else he owed or at least thought he owed money too. He's paid Trev more money than you can believe to allow this and he's paid for you to be a full member for life, if you wish to be. He wants you to find someone new, to move on with your life. That is why he bought that damned bike for you and made sure you were legal to drive it, not so that you could go looking for him, but so that you could get on with your life, free. Now, please, remove your collar." Stan held out a large hand but Matt scampered away, to the furthest corner of the bed, squishing himself against the wall.
"No! It's mine!" Matt growled, his eyes red and beginning to swell from the weeping but fierce as a mad dog's.
Stan sighed and turned away, going to the door. "Well, you think about it kid. You'll be here until you take it off. Sin told me that no one will be looking for you and Kim is taking care of Sin's fish tank. Sin gave him a key. All you have do now is sit here and think because I damn sure can't stand watching you cry. Why he'd want to throw away a beautiful pet like you I don't know." Stan hesitated with his hand on the door knob and looked back at Matt huddled against the wall. "You love him a lot, don't you?"
"Sad part is that I think Sin loves you as much, but won't allow himself the least bit of true happiness. He's thrown you out kid. Take the collar off and go home." When Matt shook his head again Stan frowned. "Well sit here and think about it. I'll check back in with you before I leave. Right now I'm going to go borrow a happy little slave, one with no tears in their eyes." The door shut quietly behind Stan and the room was left in utter silence. Not a peep of the revelry from downstairs made it past the padded walls.
Several hours later Stan returned to find Matt seated on the side of the bed, his head in his hands, still weeping. Stan fought back tears of his own, tears of deep pity. "Ready to give me the collar?" Matt shook his head forlornly. "Maybe tomorrow then."
"You're going to leave me here like this all night?" Matt wailed, staring at the grim white walls.
"Only if you keep that damned collar."
Matt had already found the small plastic cup for water but there was no food at all to be had. "Will I be fed at least?" he asked in a small voice.
"No, I'm sorry kid. Eventually you will have to give up the collar."
Matt shook his head again and Stan left. Matt was not the only one who spent the entire night crying. At home Stan wept bitterly at his task, the small and loving Kim trying to ease the torment of the weight that had been placed upon his master's shoulders but unable to soothe him.
Matt had no idea what time it was when he fell asleep, nor what time it was when he awoke. He took advantage of the toilet, drank some water and wandered around the room as far as his tether would allow. After a while be began to fight with it, trying to wretch the cord from the wall or the white collar from his neck. Neither was possible. He gave up and went back to the bed and lay there, seething. When Stan finally arrived looking like hell warmed over, Matt still refused to give up his collar and Stan left without another word. He returned a few minutes later with Kim right on his heels. Stan closed the door and propped his back against it. Matt watched warily as Kim came towards him, a small sad smile on his face.
"Please Matt, don't put Big Daddy through this. Just take the collar off." Kim begged in a small voice.
"Would you?" Matt demanded. "If Stan handed your leash off while you weren't there and the new Master told you had to remove your collar, yourself mind, and give it up, would you? Would you just let Stan walk out of your life like that?"
Kim blanched then looked ready to burst into tears as if the very thought of such a thing were unbearable. "No, I wouldn't, because I would know that my Big Daddy would never do such a thing."
"Well, I don't know that Sin did either. I wasn't there when my leash was handed off, was I?" Matt spat back.
"But you do know he'd do it Matt. Sin is just like that. Surely you know him well enough by now." Kim said, trying to sound reasonable but the quaver in his voice proved how shaken he was by the thought of being told to remove his own collar.
"A friend of ours said that Sin would never care enough, never love enough, to collar anyone. Well he collared me. And he didn't take it off before he left. Neither will I. It's not coming off Kim even if Trev lets me starve to death in this virgin room of his."
"Matt, maybe, maybe you just can't do it yourself. Will you let me take it off of you for Sin? You know that's what he wants, the collar off." Kim reached up slowly as if to touch the buckle but Matt's hands shot and grabbed his wrists, hard. Stan lunged away from the door but Matt shot him a look of such warning that Stan stopped in his tracks.
"Don't make me break your wrists Kim. I like you, I really do. You and your master both. You two never should have been brought into this. It has nothing to do with either of you. Now get out, both of you. Don't return. I won't take the collar off. You can call an ambulance when I pass out from starvation but that will take days. Just go." Matt shoved Kim away roughly and the little Asian fell to the floor, scrambling back. Stan's face was murderous with rage as he scooped Kim up, muttering as he examined his wrists, cursing at the dark bruising that was already showing like evil bracelets.
"You just fucked up Matt. You're right. I never should have been dragged into this! This just isn't my cup of tea. But I know someone who will fix you up just fine and have that collar off faster than a flea can hop. Come on honey," Stan said to Kim, kissing his wrist, "let's get some ice on this."
Kim shot Matt an alarmed and pitying glance before the door closed. Matt gritted his teeth and waited for the next round to begin.
Matt was shocked when the next person to enter the room was Paul, the creeper Matt had met on that wonderful night he had spent with Sin in the lounge downstairs. Matt had been expecting someone else entirely.
"Kim told me what they are doing to you Matt, trying to force to take your own collar off and go creeper." Paul's beautiful face was pulled into a mask of sympathy and horror.
"You won't talk me into taking it off Paul," Matt said wearily.
"I know, I wouldn't even try. I just told Master Stan that I would so I could come and see you, to warn you. He plans to give your leash to Razor if I come out of here without your collar."
"Yeah, I already suspected that. Razor won't get it off of me either."
"Yes, he will, even if he has to slash it off your throat. Please be careful Matt. Razor is going to hurt you and there is nothing anyone can do about it once Stan hands over that leash. Kim says that Trev is allowing it because you are a special case, something that Sin set up in advance with him. I can't believe Trev would break his own rules. He's such a stickler for rules! Anyway, I just wanted to warn you about Razor and wish you luck Matt. If it were me, I'd die before anyone other than my master took my collar!" Paul gave Matt a quick kiss and slipped out the door. Matt hung his head, waiting.
Matt heard the door lock click again and the sight of Razor standing in the open doorway dangling Matt's leash and leering was no surprise. Matt knew he had touched Stan's most sensitive nerve by hurting Kim and Matt knew he would pay, and the price would be very steep indeed. There was no sense in fighting, not yet. No, he had to think this through and use his head. Matt dropped from the bed to his knees on the floor.
"I ask only one favor before you begin Master Razor," Matt said, forcing respect into his tone.
"A favor is it? Already asking favors and I haven't even begun. But this might be interesting and at least I can tell Sin I was kind enough to grant a favor before I took his pet and devoured him to the core. What is this favor, my little lion cub?"
"I ask only to be able to speak to Trev first. Please. Master."
"Trev knows I have your leash, cubbling, so don't think you can beg and plead and get him to release you."
"That is not my intentions. Master." Matt was having a hard time, adding in the honorific "Master", saying it a bit late each time.
Razor chuckled and advanced. He looped the leash around the back of Matt's neck and pulled him up with it, a gloved hand going to trace Matt's jaw. "Why don't I believe you? Hmmm? Well, if you want to begin your begging early so be it. I'll call Trev to you and let you do your begging in private. Afterwards, I'll punish you for it, harshly. Oh, and don't worry. I won't be requiring you to remove that silly collar that Sin put on you." A gloved finger slipped under the collar and twisted a bit. "Just the opposite. I command you leave it right where it is. I'll enjoy fucking you all the more while using his collar to choke you." Razor patted Matt's cheek again and walked away, his dick hard, his chuckle harder.
Trev arrived with his mouth set in a very hard line. "Don't even try boy. Sin paid me well, very, very well to cooperate with his schemes and unless you can produce more cash than he did you are shit out of luck." Trev gave Matt's naked body a long perusal. "Looks like you have no pockets full of cash."
Matt shook his head. "I don't intend to beg."
"Don't try any threats either, laddie," Trev growled, producing the letter opener from inside his shirt.
"No threats either. I want to know if there is a book of bylaws for the club."
Trev stood and blinked at him, his old eyes looking totally confused.
"Aren't there rules set down somewhere? Anywhere? Who started this club? Who owns it? Maybe they will know."
"I did! I started it and I own it! Of course there are rules! A whole book of them!" Trev said proudly, puffing out his narrow chest.
"May I please read the book of bylaws before you turn me over to Razor?" Matt requested politely.
"Ah, looking for a way out that way huh? Well, you are a special case. I've been paid ahead of time and with enough money there are a lot of bylaws that can be swept aside. Only by myself of course."
"I don't intend to try to avoid Razor. But since Sin has paid for my membership I assume that means that I might possibly be able to change my status eventually, from slave to master. I want to read the bylaws."
"You think you can go rogue against Razor?" Trev laughed, long and hard, until Matt's ears turned pink with fury for the insult. Finally though Trev wiped his eyes, still chuckling and turned. "I'll bring you the book. You have two hours to flip through it. Then you belong to Razor."
"One more question..." Matt said, waiting for Trev to halt. "Did Sin tell Stan to hand my leash over to Razor?"
"No. As far as I know that was not part of the bargain but then, Sin shouldn't have set Stan to a chore too heart wrenching for him to complete. Stan's a softie. Razor isn't and Stan knows that. I think he gave your leash over in desperation."
Matt nodded and waited eagerly for Trev to return with the book. Razor entered right on Trev's heels when Trev returned with the book, arguing venomously.
"He's mine now Trev! What the hell do you mean I have to wait two hours! And what the hell is that book? You going to teach him to read before I can play with him?"
"Hush now Razor. You've waited this long, sweets, you can wait another two hours to get into his pretty hole. Off with you now. Go play with Froggie or something. I'll send for you."
"You won't need to send for me damn it! I'll be waiting right outside this door!" Razor gave Matt a frozen stare from behind his mask and stalked out. Trev placed the book gently in Matt's hands.
"Don't crinkle the pages now mind you. That's my masterpiece."
"I'll be very careful with it Sir, I promise," Matt assured him.
Matt knew he wouldn't be able to read the whole manual in two hours. Trev loved details and had filled a full four hundred pages. Matt skipped through to what was pertinent to him. At least Trev was organized. Finding what he wanted was fairly easy but he had to read quickly and make sure he got it right.
Two hours passed too quickly. When Trev returned he slid the book from Matt's hands and grinned evilly. "Razor's turn to play now," he said happily. "I'll be watching in the lounge."
Razor said nothing to Matt as he strode over and dangled a pair of padded wrist cuffs in front of Matt's face. Matt obediently held up his hands and let Razor strap them together. Razor lifted a knee and brought it down slowly over Matt's cuffed hands, trapping his wrists against the bed between his thighs. Razor wrenched Matt's head back using a handful of hair and kissed him roughly. Matt allowed it, unresponsive but not fighting. He was vaguely aware of Froggie hovering in the background. Razor continued to plunder Matt's mouth but his right hand moved, unthreatening, and Matt ignored it. Suddenly Razor wrenched his head back further and Matt felt a deep stinging over his left eye, then another. Blood filled his eye and Matt jerked back in terror. What in the hell had the man just done to him? Razor stepped back grinning and Matt's tethered hands rose to his face, his fingers searching. There were two deep slashes in his eyebrow. Razor was holding a razor blade in his right hand, grinning.
"You can keep your silly collar just as I promised my little Simba. Sin's collar can be removed at any time but you will never remove those scars. Everyone who knows of me will look at you and know that you were mine." Razor casually handed the blade over to Froggie who slipped it into a small box then placed a wad of gauze in Razor's hand. Razor pressed the gauze hard over Matt's brow, supporting Matt's head in his other hand, stemming the flow of blood. Matt felt the fight go out of him, utterly. There was nothing left. Razor was correct. There was nothing he could do about the marks. Matt glanced over at Froggie through his one clear eye, seeing the double livid lines through the kid's left brow. He was indeed marked as Razor's property, forever. Sin had let this come to be. He may not have set out for it to happen this way but it had happened. And did Sin care? Hell no. He would never see Matt again. That was his plan anyway, so how could it possibly matter to Sin what happened to Matt?
"Ah now Simba, don't cry," Razor said but his voice was nasty with triumph. "I really thought you had more fight in you than you do. You look defeated already. No wonder Sin was able to keep you so easily. He knew you would never go rogue, despite your size. He knew you were really just a little pussy. No matter. I still want to fuck you tonight. Froggie will tape up your pretty little cuts and I'll take you downstairs where all can watch. I wonder...have you ever been fisted, cubbling? No? Well, I'll go easy on you. I think I'll let Froggie do it. He likes to but his hands are so small, good only for first timers. Go on then pet," Razor said turning to Froggie, "Patch him up and we'll take him downstairs to play with."
Froggie's small slim hands replaced Razor's, pressing the gauze into place until the bleeding stopped, his touch amazingly gently. He refused to meet Matt's eyes though. Razor had unlocked the white collar from Matt's throat, releasing him from the wall and strode from the room, leaving the two alone. Matt knew that Froggie was utterly insane but knew nothing else about him.
"How long have you been with Razor?" Matt asked quietly. Froggie shrugged, pulled the gauze away and gently cleaned away the blood from around Matt's eye before stretching a butterfly shaped bandage over the cuts in his brow. "Do you like being with Razor?" Matt pressed, watching the young man's face. The mouth curled up in a delighted grin and Froggie nodded excitedly.
"Froggie loves his Master!" the strange little man averred. "But Froggie does not like you." Matt found it creepy, the way that Froggie referred to himself in the third person.
"Why doesn't Froggie, I mean, why don't you like me?" Matt asked quietly.
"The Master will throw Froggie away, Froggie will be alone. Master likes Simba better." Froggie's shoulders drooped and he turned away to pack up the rest of the bandages into the little box he had been clutching.
Matt reached up, his hands still tethered together but touched them gently to Froggie's elbow. "No he doesn't. Didn't you hear him? I am a play toy. You know he will get tired of me very quickly. He's never gotten tired of you, now has he?"
Froggie seemed to mull that over, a grin spreading over his ugly face again. "Froggie knows how to make Master howl with happy," he said in that weird form of speech he used.
"Do you live with him Froggie?" Matt asked, reaching up to feel the neatly placed bandage on his brow.
"Oh no! Froggie never leaves the house!"
"What, this house? You never leave this house? You live here in the club?"
"Froggie lives in the little house, near the big house."
Matt mulled that over. There had been a small building near the club, not much larger than a shed.
"Where did you come from?"
"Come from?" Froggie asked, perplexed. "Master brought me out of Hell."
Matt decided not to try to question him further. The man made little to no sense. He decided to take a different route. "I don't want your Master Froggie. I want mine."
"Sin punishes you. You have been bad. Bad Simba!" Froggie swatted Matt hard over his ear. Matt slanted him a glare.
"Maybe Froggie will be bad some time and find himself in the hands of a new master, hmmm?"
Froggie paled and turned away. "No. No one can touch Froggie. No one has ever been able to steal Froggie."
Matt bit back the comment that no one wanted to steal Froggie. Razor returned with Trev in tow. Trev examined Froggie's bandages.
"He'll pass but Razor, damn it, no one said you could cut him! Especially mark him! You didn't steal this slave! He was loaned out to you by Stan."
"You kept saying he was a special case. I took that to mean I was allowed liberties. He can still go back to Sin, he'll just always carry my mark." Razor grinned, his white teeth flashing behind the black leather mask.
"No more cutting him, Razor. I mean it! Beat him, bruise him, rape him, I don't care, but no more slashing! Understood?" Trev was red in the face, obviously furious about the marks.
"Hmph," Razor grunted in disappointment but nodded in agreement.
"And get that damned collar off of him!" Trev said. "He's got to take it off willingly though...that's the catch."
"Oh, he'll take it off, won't you pet? Hell, you may as well take it off now. Sin doesn't want you. If he did you wouldn't be sitting there wearing MY mark. It really doesn't matter if you have some silly removable piece of leather around your beautiful throat. You're flesh shows the mark of your real master now."
Matt knew it was true. Painfully true. The bleakness descended on him again. Sin had sent him here for this, to break him, to force him to remove his collar and move on, alone. Matt's hands rose towards his throat, touched the leather and felt a sob rise. He couldn't take it off. He just couldn't. It was all he had left of Sin now.
"Almost," Trev said, grinning now. "Work him over Razor. I want to see that collar off of him by morning. Have fun."
Razor waited until Trev left then leaned down into Matt's face, his breath musky from alcohol. "Don't you dare remove it Simba. You know I like it there." Razor laughed loudly as he shook out a piece of black satin. He was still chuckling when he finished tying it over Matt's eyes. Matt wasn't sure if Razor was blindfolding him to prevent Matt from seeing or if it was really to prevent the men downstairs from seeing the bandage over Matt's brow. Matt was led slowly down the steps by Froggie, who seemed genuinely concerned that he might fall, telling Matt where to place each careful step. Matt knew Razor was near him, could hear his deep breathing, smell the leather soap from Razor's clothes and the musky cologne that Razor wore. Matt was struggling within himself. He didn't know whether to give in to it and enjoy a good fucking or to fight it. Sin certainly didn't care who fucked Matt or got fucked by him. Still though, Sin had told him that night that no other man was to ever be allowed to torture him. Well, so far he hadn't really been tortured, not physically. The cuts had stung but were too quickly executed to be torturous and Matt doubted seriously that Razor was taking him to the lounge to torture him. He just wanted to fuck him. In front of everyone. Fuck Sin's one and only slave. Matt sighed and continued to let himself be led.
Matt wasn't surprised when Razor helped him up into the swing, spreading his thighs and fingering his hole gently. Matt laid there, darkness the only thing visible behind the blindfold and let Razor play with him, the swing gently swaying. Matt was utterly passive, his dick limp and uninterested. At first. Matt was going over what he had read in the bylaws books in his head, but soon Razor made thought more and more difficult. His voice was a raspy in Matt's ear, his breath warm and sweet with liquor, his words a narration on all that he intended to do to Matt, the pain, the pleasure, the dominance he intended to subject him to. Matt could hear Froggie giggling nearby. The feel of the small fingers entering his hole didn't stir him but Froggie soon added more fingers, gloved and lathered in cold lubricant. Soon part of his small hand was creeping inside, slowly, gently, working and massaging. Razor's rough hands were on Matt's cock, his voice still a growl in Matt's ear, moist and teasing. Matt's dick began to stir, hardening and lengthening in Razor's expert hands, his ass feeling stretched, but oh so gently. Matt sighed and let himself relax more and more, Razor's voice a purr now, pleased as he slid a condom onto Matt's cock. Matt let his shackled hands rest lazily on his chest and when Razor's mouth covered his own Matt responded, trying to arch up into the kiss.
Still though, the thoughts in Matt's mind didn't slip away entirely. Thinking through the unholy pleasures his body was experiencing wasn't easy but he held on, twisting each thought, examining each angle as if every idea in his mind were a diamond, checking for flaws in a plan that was quickly coming together. Froggie had his whole slick hand in Matt's ass now, teaching him slowly and gently the pleasures of being hand fucked. He wasn't fisting him, not yet, Matt wasn't ready for that. Matt thought of Sin, of how angry he'd be if he could see Matt now. Matt had to tamp down hard and furiously on that thought. Letting Sin into his thoughts now would destroy his plan. It would be too easy to just lose himself in a fantasy of Sin and spew his cum immediately. Matt had no intentions of cumming. Not for Razor and Froggie. Hell no. But he was close...too damned close.
"Razor," Matt gasped out, sweat beading on his brow as he fought to maintain control over his body. "I want you to fuck me. Please. I can't stand it anymore. Just fuck me."
Razor's gasp was muted, barely audible even to Matt but Matt knew Razor wouldn't deny him. He could hear the catch in the man's breathing, feel the tremble in his hand where it clutched and pulled at Matt's cock.
"Move vermin," Razor growled and Froggie's small hand disappeared from Matt's ass, slowly, Froggie still giggling. Matt felt the swing rock as Razor positioned himself between Matt's thighs, Razor's hard long dick plunging into Matt's ass. Matt moaned and twisted his head.
"Harder Master," he pleaded. "Make it hurt!"
And Razor did. His hands were hard on Matt's body, his dick slammed into Matt's ass like a jackhammer, Razor grunting and cursing. Letting his self control slip far too quickly. Matt suppressed a smile, twisting it instead into a sneer of painful pleasure.
"You're better than Sin," Matt wheezed out, very quietly, knowing that only Razor would hear him. It did the job. Matt had known it would. Razor came with an explosive oath, his hand clutching in Matt's collar and pulling him closer, buried as deeply as possible in Matt's ass. Matt waited until the man's breathing began to ease and the hand dropped from his collar. Then he simply reached up and removed the blindfold, using his thumbs to hook under it and lift it away. Rage filled Razor's eyes at such insubordination. Matt smiled evilly.
"Sin's right. You have such a soft little trigger."
Matt ears filled with the roar of Razor's fury even as Matt found himself jerked from the swing and slung to the floor. Now the torture would begin. Razor would not forgive that, no indeed. He would punish Matt horribly, torturously. And torture was just the thing Matt needed right now. He knew his body would respond accordingly. Sin had told him so. No, Sin had ordered him. From the corner of his eye Matt saw Razor jerk his coiled leash from his belt. It whistled through the air before catching Matt across his bare shoulders. Again and again it rose and fell. The pain was awful. It was torture. And Matt's body responded.
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