Everything in Time

Автор: Ravenschild

“Only by reputation.” Peter retained his calm and exuded an aura of menace. Connor felt himself shrinking from it and crouched back into the corner of the room. Hating the weakness within him, detesting the memories the scenario invoked. The feelings of helplessness and despair, of not being in control; and it flooded into him, leaving him trembling in its wake as he fought them back, his own personal demons, and worried that Peter was biting off more than he could chew. He wouldn’t lose him, couldn’t lose him. He was all that kept him going at times, the only light; and to know now that perhaps they had a chance together, to lose it would destroy him utterly.

“Ah, yes, I should have remembered; you owned that other little whore, Nick. I watched you in the alley that day when you found him. Touching.” Denisoff continued his slow approach, unaware or ignoring the coiled danger in Peter.

The next few moments happened in a blur, Connor saw Denisoff move, saw Peter charge and found that he was still in the corner of the room and Peter was on his knees between two men. Denisoff stood leering over him as he slowly wrapped his belt around Peter’s throat and began a slow choke.

Muscles bulged in Peter’s neck and shoulders, and a whimper escaped Connor’s lips before he could stop it.

“Ah, so you own this one as well?” Denisoff chuckled. “Even better.” He released the belt and smiled.

“Enough to know that even you would find no joy in breaking something that’s already broken. Look at him, Nathan,” Peter gasped from his raw throat and to his utter amazement Denisoff followed his gaze. “Have you ever wondered why you haven’t succeeded in your attempts to raise yourself above them?” Peter continued, aware that the quarry was listening intently.

“No doubt you’ll give me the benefit of your lofty ideas,” Denisoff snarled, but stopped and crouched in front of Peter.

“No doubt. Think about it, you break based on a stereotype thinking your god will be pleased with the sacrifice you’re sending him. And he’s not, Nathan; you’re breaking that which is already broken. You need to send him a new toy, Nathan, one that won’t go willingly.”

“Like you for instance?”

“I’m certainly not willing,” Peter spat at Denisoff and saw the fine edge of insanity creep into the handsome face, twisting the spirit that dwelt in his eyes.

“It makes sense.” Denisoff twisted the belt in his hands. “We’ll see how long it takes you to break, and when I’m done I’ll still play with your toy. Make him subservient to me; keep him chained like a pet. He’d like that.” Nathan nodded to the two men and in a moment Peter’s shirt was ripped from his body, leaving him naked from the waist up, and Denisoff positioned himself behind the prone man. The belt buckle left dangling at the end of the belt as he strapped the rest of the leather to his hand and looked over his shoulder at Connor. “You should be proud your master would offer himself up for you, whore.”

As the belt made first contact with the bare flesh, Peter bit back the scream that formed on his lips and sweat broke out on his skin, unbidden in the cool room. Minutes crawled as the belt struck again and again; each time Peter retreated to a tiny part of his mind. Away from the pain, away from the prying hands that touched him intimately through his clothes.

Instinctively, he knew rather than felt the blood trickle from the multitude of welts and soak into his clothing. Knew that whilst the pain continued Connor was safe, and only that kept him from blacking out as he clung tenaciously to consciousness. As quickly as it began, the pain stopped; and his head was dragged up by a firm hand, the other caressing the side of his face, as he panted heavily.

“Lovely,” Nathan purred as he flicked the wicked blade out that so recently had touched Connor. Slowly, he ran the back of it across Peter’s chest, stopping to cruelly pinch the sweat soaked chest and nipples. His hand crawled down Peter’s body with sickening certainty toward his crotch. A searing pain exploded through his body as his balls were crushed in a giant fist and the first hiss of pain escaped his lips. “Yes, I can feel the power in you and you were right. This is better, much better.” Nathan leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips as he was dragged to his feet. Deft fingers undid the clasp on the leather jeans and began to tease the flesh on his waist with nails as Nathan whispered into his ear.

Connor saw a movement out the corner of his eye, unable to break his concentration of the macabre scene that played itself out in front of him. Unwilling to leave Peter alone to the torment, and through his drug fogged brain, he finally found his feet moving his uncoordinated body towards the safety of the door.

“Stop him.” Denisoff smiled nastily as he ordered his men into action; and with delight they dropped Peter, only to find the world turn upside down again. More people came in; loud voices that shouted orders as bodies began to be thrown heedless of the outcome on the room.

A gun skittered across the floor and Connor reached out, fingering the safety off as he watched the belt wrap around Peter’s throat again, bringing him to his knees. He stood, gun in hand, and aimed.

“Put him down.” His voice was lethal; quiet and in complete control.

“And if I don’t, whore?” Denisoff pulled on the leash and the room fell silent.

“My name is, Connor,” Doyle said slowly. “And if you don’t put him down, I will shoot you; now move away.”

“No. Not without taking at least part of the prize.” With that Denisoff flipped out his knife again and aimed at the carotid artery that bulged in Peter’s throat. Too overcome with pain, Peter slumped in the cruel embrace. His hands reached for the belt to pull it away as he slowly lost consciousness. The intention was clear as the knife bit into the flesh and drew a small line of blood that trickled; and in that same moment Connor pulled the trigger, just once. The stench of cordite mixed with frank blood and even the hardened FBI agents in the room staggered back.

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