Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One
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It had been two days since he'd last seen Lou, at another of the boring parties that seemed to make up the better part of his life these days. Two days, and David had been jonesing for a fix of the man ever since. It'd been a while since he'd last been with the American, and seeing Lou that night had reminded him just how pleasant his company could be. He had intended on going home with him that night, but Angie had insisted he come home with her - as it turns out, to entertain a few of her "friends" back home.

She had decided to take another of her little "vacations" shortly afterwards. He was fairly convinced that she'd only just cooked up the idea over breakfast, although she insisted that she had told him about it weeks ago. He didn't mind. He was glad to have her out of his hair for a while. He was happy with the other activities he had planned to keep his mind (among other things) occupied.

New York was cool this time of year but not unpleasantly cold, and he wore no jacket as he jogged across the street towards Lou's building. He was dressed to the hilt in silky, ass-hugging trousers and a button-up shirt of the same material, which was laid open just slightly in a way that seemed unintentional but was definitely a plotted move. His heart beat quickly in anticipation, his shoes clicking in time against the tile floors of the empty lobby as he entered Lou's building.

This building did not have a doorman, so he boarded the lift and pressed the key for Lou's floor, straightening his clothes a bit as he waited. He knew he looked divine. He smiled wryly, knowing the irony of the gesture, because it would not be long before his clothes were lying in a rumpled heap on Lou's apartment floor.

The chime of the elevator arriving at it's destination brought him back to reality. He stepped out into the deserted hallway, taking a moment to gather himself, listening to the vague din of police sirens somewhere outside. He wondered what Lou had in mind for tonight. He had a few ideas himself. Knowing Lou, he was certain it would be something interesting.

Standing outside Lou's front door, he knocked twice and then smoothed his hands one more time over his clothes, more out of reflex than anything. There was a long moment of silence before he heard someone disengaging the locks on the inside. His heart gave a little flutter in his chest, a sort of giddy, schoolgirlish excitement. The door opened a second later to reveal Lou leaning just inside the doorjamb, his eyes exquisitely made-up with black eye shadow. His lips were painted as well, either black or dark red - in the low light it was hard to tell. He smiled when he saw the younger man, the sort of expression a spider might hold as he invited the unsuspecting fly into his parlour. "Hello again," he said huskily, his eyes fixed to David's, dark and unblinking.

"It's good to see you again," David said awkwardly, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. Lou just smiled slightly, more like a smirk really, and stepped aside, opening the door to grant him access. The flat was fairly large but scantly furnished, and the air held the lingering scent of different people's colognes. There was a rather large window on the wall opposite the door but the curtains were drawn over it, obscuring the view. David didn't mind. He was too busy looking at Lou's ass through the skin-tight leather pants he was wearing.

Re-locking the door, Lou turned to face his companion, staring at him for a long moment as if trying to decide if he was acceptable or not. "You look gorgeous," he said finally, his eyes roving unabashedly up and down David's slim figure.

David smirked. He was feeling more confident now. "I know," he said playfully, bringing a soft laugh from the other man, and then Lou's arms were twining around his waist, their hips drawing close together. The leather of Lou's pants slipped against the silkiness of David's own clothes.

Lou kissed him, lightly, leaving behind just a hint of the taste of cigarettes. David started to reciprocate but the American pulled back before the kiss could deepen. David looked momentarily disappointed, but Lou smiled darkly, an unspoken promise, and took his hand, leading him towards the hallway where, just beyond, lay the single bedroom. David followed him slowly, coyly, his free hand tracing lines down the wall of the narrow hall.

The bedroom at the end was dark, lit only by the light that managed to gain entry through the drawn curtains at the window, and Lou did not bother to turn on the lamp. Instead he embraced David again, kissing him more deeply this time, their tongues meeting, tentatively at first, then more aggressively, hands wandering to undo a button here and a zipper there, feeling the simple pleasure of satin and leather against their fingertips.

When they finally ended the kiss, breathlessly discarding the last of their clothes, David was already becoming quite aroused. He fell back on the bed, draping his lithe body seductively across the mattress, tempting Lou to come get him.

Lou wasted no time in doing so, climbing onto the bed on top of him, straddling the smaller man. The bright, seedy city lights filtering in through the curtains cast the room in a strange, washed-out glow; David could make out Lou's features clearly, but in the darkness his expression seemed sinister and inhuman, reptilian. The American gave him a smug smile, lifting his chin a bit, and even this simple gesture was enough to make David feel slightly inferior. "What'll it be, eh?" Lou asked in a rather saccharine, mocking tone, still smirking as he stared down at the other man.

David held his ground. Two could play at this little game, and if he had anything to say about it, he would be the one who would be calling the shots. "Fuck me," he commanded, punctuating the statement with a defiant smirk. "Now."

Lou stared at him for a long moment. David began to feel rather awkward in this stretch of silence. He was about to ask Lou what the matter was when the man suddenly grabbed both of David's wrists and slammed them down against the mattress, at the same time grinding their hips together with such zeal that it was slightly painful. As David stared up at him in surprise, Lou smiled serenely, his eyes half-lidded. "Beg me," he said flatly.

The words surprised David, but he hid it rather well, realizing immediately what Lou was trying to pull. He let out a slow, soft laugh. He wanted Lou - and bad - but there was no way he was going to beg him. "Fuck off," he retorted smarmily.

It was because of his cocky self-assurance that what happened next came as an utter surprise to him. Lou did not have a clever comeback for that. He didn't need one. Instead of answering he released one of David's wrists and drew back his own arm to deliver a harsh slap across the redhead's face.

The blow shocked David, as did the taste of blood as it dribbled forth from his lip and caressed his tongue. It was an odd experience, tasting his own blood, and in his befuddlement he was amazed to think that he was more concerned over that than the fact that Lou had just hit him. He started to say something, although he could think of no suitable response to what had happened, but Lou cut him short by jumping up from the bed and hauling the stupefied David after him by the arm. It happened so quickly that David had no choice but to follow, but no sooner had his feet touched the floor that Lou gave his arm another hard tug and sent him stumbling forward, crashing gracelessly to the floor on his knees.

Pain exploded in his mind at the impact, white-hot and radiating through the bones of his legs. Vaguely, through the haze of throbbing blood in his skull, he heard Lou clattering about with something behind him, but he thought nothing of that at the moment, being too outraged at the other man's sudden erratic behaviour. He was about to turn around and demand to know just what the hell had gotten into him when he heard a soft click and felt something cool and hard press itself to the back of his head.

He knew immediately that it was a gun. It was odd, because he had not seen it, indeed did not even know Lou owned a gun, had never even come in contact with one in reality, but he recognized the touch of cold metal against his skull as if by clairvoyance.

His mouth felt suddenly dry, his mind devoid of any idea of what to do. He held deathly still, too afraid to move or speak.

"I said," came Lou's voice reverberating through the muggy air, "beg me."

David, rebellious even in his final hour, hesitated a moment. When he did speak, his voice was timid and quiet, so much so that it surprised him when he heard it. "Please," he started, the word trembling on his tongue.

"'Please' what?" Lou pressed.

David swallowed hard. "Please, Lou," he said, disgusted at the whiney tone of his words. "Please don't do this."

A low chuckle behind him, and he could imagine Lou's smug grin as he stared down at him, cocky and all-powerful with that gun in his hand. "Don't you want me, Davey?" Lou questioned. "Don't you want me, you little bitch?"

David didn't know how to answer that. Lou was not satisfied with silence. He twisted his fingers into the other man's hair, giving it a sharp tug. "Do you want me to fuck you, bitch? Eh? You want me to fuck your pretty little ass? Or should I just blow your brains out right now?"

"Lou -" David said desperately, trying to keep the terror from his voice if only out of pride, but he was cut short as Lou gave his hair another violent tug.

"Beg me," he said again.

David shuddered visibly. "Please..." he whimpered, feeling slightly sick.

"'Please' what??" Lou barked.

"Please fuck me," David whispered, trembling as the words left his lips.

Lou gave a dramatic sigh. "Not good enough," he quipped, and pulled the trigger.

A click. The sound seemed deafening in David's ears, until he realized after a long second that the gun had not gone off, and that the contents of his skull were not splattered all over the walls of the flat. He felt at once relieved and immensely nauseous, and he thought for a moment that he might throw up until he noticed that both the gun and Lou's fingers had left his head. He opened his eyes to find Lou standing over him, giving him a most self-satisfied smile, the gun pointed harmlessly towards the ceiling. "Well," Lou said flatly. "I guess it's your lucky day."

Before he had a chance to reply to that Lou was pushing him to the ground, his arms around David's thin shoulders and his mouth pressed to David's own, his tongue invading the warm recess with such animal lust that for a moment David almost forgot the terror and anger burning in his belly. What horrified him the most was the realization that, at some level, he had actually been turned on by Lou's little act. The thought repulsed him - not the idea of such sadistic play, but the fact that he had let himself be the subordinate, the masochist... the bitch. He hated himself for that, and he hated Lou for exploiting that side of him, hated Lou for being able to tear those whimpering, cowardly pleas from his throat. He broke the kiss, disgusted, and tried to push the man away.

Lou, however, would not tolerate such. He grabbed David's wrists again and slammed them to the floor, pinning him down with his body, while at the same time closing his teeth on the smooth white flesh of the redhead's bare shoulder. David cried out at the bite, trying to wriggle out of Lou's grip, but the American caught him in another rough kiss, their teeth clashing together. David wanted to dislike the kiss, to despise the taste of the other man's mouth, but instead he found he enjoyed it, liked the feeling of the animalistic kiss and Lou's fingers tight on his thin wrists.

It was Lou that broke the kiss this time, moving his fingers to grab David's upper arm, jerking him roughly over onto his belly. David found his face pressed into the dirty carpet, his sinuses filled with the musty smells there, pot smoke and dirty laundry and stale sweat and sex. Before he had time to comprehend what had happened Lou thrust inside him, so suddenly and roughly that David gave a cry of pain. But Lou was apt at what he did, and despite the humiliation that still burned in his chest the feeling soon dissolved to pleasure, radiating through him with each ragged thrust. Sweat trickled down his temples and dripped onto the floor where his fingers grasped at the ratty carpet, and he arched his back as Lou's body thrashed on top of him. He could feel Lou reaching down between his legs, fondling his balls and sluicing his hand over his cock, and he lost himself in the primitive pleasure, forgetting his humiliation and helpless anger in the midst of Lou's well-placed touches. He came hard, spilling onto the rug and Lou's fingers, wordlessly moaning his pleasure into the dirty carpet. Lou came a moment later, his fingers digging into David's shoulder blade, trembling as the orgasm rocked through his bones, radiating from between his legs.

They remained locked together for a long moment as their orgasms subsided, David now lying panting flat on his belly. His brain was filled with the heady scent of Lou and of himself, drowning his senses, but the blind anger and gut-wrenching disgust at what had gone on was quickly enveloping him again. "Let me up," he choked out, his voice muffled by the carpet.

Lou, still breathing heavily, slowly slid out of him and got up. David scrambled to his feet immediately, his legs trembling beneath him as if they had grown too weak to hold up even his weight. He stared at the other man with an expression of almost disbelief. He had intended on ripping Lou apart, but now as he stood shaking across from him he could not think of a single thing to say.

Lou stared back at him, seeming genuinely confused. "What's the matter with you?" he asked breathily.

David was positively dumbstruck at the comment. "What's the matter??" he blurted out. "How could you do that? How could you..." He gestured helplessly, furious at himself for not being able to pull up the words.

Lou smiled knowingly. He glanced around David at the mess on the floor. "Looks to me like you enjoyed it."

David's face burned with shame. "You fucking bastard," he muttered, although somewhere inside him he wondered if he was talking to Lou or himself. He shoved past him before he had a chance to answer, grabbing his clothes off the floor as he went, and hurried down the hallway. Lou did not follow him; he remained in the bedroom, his back towards the door, as though he was not aware that the younger man had left at all.

Hastily tugging on his clothes with not near the precision he had used earlier in the evening, David chanced one last glance down the darkened hallway. Lou was no longer standing in the middle of the room; he couldn't see him anywhere. He wondered if he'd try to stop him. The thought made him feel sick again so he pushed it from his mind and rushed out the door before anything else could happen.

Waiting for the lift, he expected Lou to burst out the door and come down the hall after him, but he never did. The whole building seemed eerily quiet, the sounds of the busy street far below seeming muted and unreal, like a television left on in another room. When the elevator arrived with the accustomed chime once again, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

It was a dismal ride home, the taxi cold and hardly a word spoken the entire way, but fortunately the cabby had no idea who he was and David was grateful for that much. By the time he got home, he felt numb and unreal, like a projected copy of himself, awaiting the moment when the projector would be shut off and he would disappear. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his clothes now dishevelled and carefully applied make-up smudged, but he didn't bother to wash his face or undress and instead crawled meekly between the sheets of the bed, feeling dirty but unable to find the willpower to get up and have a shower.

He fell asleep after a few minutes, thankful for the warm refuge of sweet oblivion, but it was not long before he began to dream. In this foggy realm of phantoms he saw himself on his hands and knees on a carpeted floor, and Lou behind him, holding on to his slim hips as he fucked him up the ass, sweat dripping from him onto David and from David to the floor. Pleasure pounded in his senses, all conscious thought forgotten in the midst of this primitive, animal euphoria, and his cock was swollen and dripping, begging for release. He could see, as if in the third person, Lou's hands slipping down beneath him, a razorblade now held between his fingers, slicing long gashes into David's exposed belly, blood running down his fingers and the blade and between David's thighs, dripping onto the carpet, sluicing over him, the rusty scent filling his head, and he was coming - harder than he ever had before, his thin frame wracked with jolts of orgasmic electricity, semen spilling onto the floor and mixing with the blood that dripped from his belly.

When he awoke moments later, the remains of the dream sticky between his thighs, he could still feel the damp sensation of fresh blood on his belly, the imperial closeness of Lou's body on top of him, and his guts twisted inside of him at the realization, the contents of his stomach pressing tightly to the back of his throat. He stumbled off the bed to the bathroom, grabbing the slick edges of the sink for some stability, and puked into the porcelain bowl.

He turned the water on when he'd finished, washing the mess away, and rinsed the putrid taste from his mouth. He could still feel it, though, lingering on his tongue as he slipped off back to bed - the bitter commixed taste of bile and Lou, not entirely imagined.

Chapter Text

It'd been a week since the incident at Lou's apartment, and now, standing outside his door once again, David was wondering what the hell had made him come back here. He hadn't spoken to or seen Lou since he'd left that night; he wasn't even sure if he'd be home. Part of him hoped that he wouldn't be. Twice since he'd left earlier that morning he'd turned around and started home, but somehow he could not bring himself to just forget the whole thing and ignore Lou all together. He'd tried to talk himself out of it when he left, on both rides over, when he crossed the threshold into Lou's building, on the way up in the elevator, with every step he took down the hall, and now as he stood outside the door staring at the worn numbers screwed in to the door's surface. He figured if he hadn't managed to talk himself out of it by now, he was never going to.

It took him a long time to muster the courage to knock on the door. The hallway was empty once again, and he was glad for that, not wanting an audience for this. He wondered if he'd be able to go through with this. He had half a mind to forget the whole thing and hurry back to the elevator before anybody could answer. He was about to do just that when he heard the familiar click of the locks being undone. He steeled himself, trying to look nonchalant.

"Oh, it's you," Lou said plainly when he'd opened the door. "I didn't expect to see you back so soon."

'You shouldn't have expected to see me back at all,' David thought, but he said nothing. A long moment of silence passed before Lou finally sighed and stepped to the side, pushing the door open.

"You can come in if you want," he said curtly, gesturing to the room. It did not look much different in the daytime, for the curtains were all still closed, the only light being the pale glow of the florescent lamps in the kitchen. The TV was on, but the sound was turned off, and David was not sure that Lou had been watching it at all. The air still held the artificial scent of perfumes, but it was layered over with the distinct odour of pot smoke, faded but still detectible.

The familiarity of the room took the edge off David's apprehension, and he stepped inside tentatively, hands pressed unassumingly into his pockets. He was dressed considerably more conservatively today as compared to his last visit, in baggy khaki trousers and a crisp, off-white linen shirt, but he'd also gone so far as to put on make-up before he left, proof enough that he still cared about looking good for Lou. He made up for it, though, by keeping all the buttons of his shirt tightly fastened.

They sat on the tatty couch, David making a point to sit as far from Lou as possible, fixing his stare to the floor. Another period of silence passed, then Lou said awkwardly, "You want a beer or something?"

"No, thanks," David said primly. He wondered what the hell he was doing here. He was still pissed off about what had happened, and yet here he was. He wondered if Lou was angry at him for leaving the other day. 'He's got some fucking nerve, if he is,' David thought, getting mad all over again.

Something touched the back of his neck, and he jumped, stirred from his private thoughts. He looked up and realized Lou had come over to his end of the couch and was softly petting his hair. David glared at him. Lou took the hint and backed off a bit, now rubbing him lightly on the back. "I guess you were pretty upset the other day," he said quietly.

"I was," David said, slightly snappy. Thinking about it was making him angry again. But Lou's soft rubbing on his back was terribly disarming. 'Damn it,' David thought. 'It's so hard to stay mad at him.'

"I didn't mean to scare you," Lou said. "I guess I should have warned you first."

"I wasn't scared," David informed him, which was a flat-out lie, but there was no way he was going to admit to it now. "But that was fucked up, what you did. You could have fucking killed me."

"It wasn't loaded, Davey," Lou said, and almost laughed, but caught himself when the redhead gave him a sharp glance. He edged a little closer, so that their thighs were pressed together. "I wouldn't do that to you. You know that, don't you?"

David avoided his eyes, not sure what to say. The gun hadn't been loaded - would he have begged Lou like that, if he had known? It frightened him to realize he wasn't sure. Still, he'd never been turned on like that before... Lou knew how to please him. He hated to admit it, but Lou seemed to know exactly what made him tick.

Lou's fingers were slowly making their way onto David's leg, and he closed his eyes as they smoothed over the inside of his thigh. He wondered what he ought to do. He wanted to go back to the dark bedroom, to breath in the smell of Lou all around him and feel the heat of him deep inside himself, but he could not bring himself to give in, not yet. He edged away, just slightly.

This time, however, Lou did not take the hint. He moved his hand from David's thigh to slowly begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, fingers ghosting lightly over the smooth white flesh beneath. He stroked his thumb over one of David's nipples, bringing a soft sigh from the younger man who tilted his head back just slightly, forgetting to be aloof as pleasure tingled over his senses.

"You like that?" Lou said huskily, knowing full well that he did. David nodded a little. Lou leaned over, pressing a light kiss to the corner of David's mouth. He pushed himself down off the couch to kneel on the floor, moving up between David's spread thighs so that he was almost eye-level with him, and undid the last few buttons of the shirt, laying it open. His tongue teased David's nipples, licking across the cool pale skin of his chest, his teeth scraping now and then against the soft skin and making the other man shiver. David brought one hand up to feel Lou's mass of shaggy, curly hair, tangling his fingers in it as the older man's tongue moved steadily lower towards his crotch. Lou nibbled at the softness of David's flat belly, sending jolts of ecstasy up the man's back, but he stopped before he reached what David had thought would be his final destination. Instead of going any further he got up and held out a hand, prompting David to get off the couch with him. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's go in the back."

David couldn't imagine what they could do back there that they couldn't do right here, but he decided another few moments of waiting wouldn't kill him, so he took Lou's hand and got up, following him once again down the dark hall towards the bedroom. The familiar sight brought back the remembrance of last week's goings-on, but he pushed the thought from his mind and concentrated instead on the heat between his legs.

The bedroom was darker than the living room, but today a lamp on top of the bookcase was lit, throwing gold light and deep shadows over the room. When they'd gotten inside, Lou shut the door behind them, sealing out the last of the light. David was beginning to feel a bit nervous again, but he soon forgot about that when Lou took him in his arms and kissed him, undoing the buttons of his pants as he did. David could not reach Lou's fly, so instead he put his arms around the American's waist, giving his ass a soft squeeze. The baggy khakis dropped unheeded to the floor, and David now found his crotch pressed tightly against Lou's, separated only by the thin veneer of his underwear and the fabric of Lou's pants - leather again, hot and slick to the touch. David could feel Lou's hard member pressing through the confining tightness of his pants, his own cock rising to meet it.

Lou ended the kiss abruptly, moving his hands from David's body to strip himself of his own clothes. He hadn't bothered with underwear, and his thighs and cock glistened with a slight sheen of sweat. David, obviously enjoying what he saw, quickly discarded his own underwear and leaned in for another embrace, but Lou stopped him.

"Not just yet," he said with just a hint of a smile. "Let's play a little game." He gave David a quick kiss and then moved around him towards the bed.

David turned to watch him uncertainly. He wasn't sure he wanted to play a game that Lou had come up with. Still - the temptation was more than he could resist. He decided to go along with it.

"Get down on your knees," Lou told him, pointing one black lacquered finger towards the floor. David obeyed. "That's right," Lou said, nodding his approval. He reached under the bed, tugging out a coil of rope.

David immediately grew wary. "No, Lou," he started, "I don't want - "

"Ssh," Lou interrupted. "Don't be scared. It'll be fun." He crouched down, drawing out the rope. "You'll like it."

David hesitated. He knew that, if he wanted to, he could get up and leave right now. He stared at the rope in Lou's hands, thought of the humiliation he'd experienced the last time he was here - and of the gut-deep, inexplicable arousal he'd felt when Lou had torn those whimpering pleas from his throat. Against his better judgement, he said, "Do it."

Lou smiled. "If that's what you want."

Moving behind him, Lou pulled David's arms around behind his back. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and David did not resist, despite a nagging voice of doubt at the back of his brain. He could feel the rough coils of the rope lacing around his bare wrists, quite tight. It hurt, just a bit. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, pushing the memories of last week's capers from his mind.

To his surprise, he felt the rope being twined around his ankles now and he opened his eyes, turning his head to try to get a look at the other man. "What are you doing?" he wanted to know, the worry at the edges of his brain starting to move to the forefront.

"Ssh," Lou said again, but gave no further explanation. David felt more nervous. He hadn't expected Lou to bind his legs as well - it would make it nearly impossible to get up now. He was completely at Lou's mercy, and the dark glint in the American's eye made him think that that was not a position he would like to be in.

But then, Lou did look terribly sexy standing there, leaning on one leg with his hip bent like that and his cock already stiff. David could feel his own flesh responding to the sight, stirring between his bent legs despite how tight the binds were on his wrists and ankles - or perhaps because of it.

Lou looked him over, as if he were observing a painting and trying to decide where to put the finishing stroke. He nodded to himself, smiling just slightly. "Yes," he said slowly. "I think that'll do just fine." That said, he walked casually around behind David, out of sight. David could hear him opening the drawers of the small chest near the bed, and he wondered what Lou was going to produce. He was more than a little apprehensive now. "What are you doing?" he asked again, trying to crane his neck to see what Lou was up to, but he couldn't catch a glimpse at this angle.

Lou didn't answer. Absurdly, he'd actually begun to hum to himself. It was a happy tune, one David didn't recognize, but he couldn't help but find it a bit disturbing. The whole situation was beginning to feel like it had come straight from a horror movie. He twisted around again, straining for a glimpse, but it was then that Lou, still humming, came swaggering back into his line of vision. He was holding the pistol in his right hand.

David immediately balked at the all-too-familiar sight of the gun. "No, Lou, I don't want to use that," he protested, squirming in his binds, but in his position he could go nowhere.

"No more talking," Lou snapped, the tune he had been humming dropping abruptly. He now looked very dark and serious, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes, casting deep shadows beneath them.

David could already tell he did not like where this was going. Behind his back, he tugged slightly at the ropes around his wrist to see if he could loosen them at all. They refused to budge. He looked up at Lou, steeling himself, trying to sound authoritative despite his rather compromising position. "I think you better untie me," he told him.

Lou did no such thing. Instead he smacked David on the cheek - hard. "I told you to be quiet," he snarled, the echo of the sharp report of skin on skin ringing through the small room.

David grit his teeth, determined not to let the pain of the slap show on his face. He glared up at the man standing over him. He decided then and there that he would not give in to Lou's tactics this time. He hated him. He hated himself for coming back here, for letting this continue - but most of all for enjoying it. That was unforgivable. But at the moment Lou was an easy target for his anger, and he glowered poisonously at the other man as if his gaze alone would somehow strike down the dark-haired boy as if by Divine Intervention.

None such happened, though, and instead Lou began tracing slow steps around David's crouching form, twirling the gun on his index finger in a way that might have looked a bit comical if it wasn't so unnerving. "Well, well, well," Lou drawled. "What is it gonna be this time, Davey? Are you going to be a good boy and do as I say, or are you going to be naughty again?" He was now standing directly in front of David, arms crossed, the pistol pointed towards the wall. His blacked-out eyes looked cavernous in the dim light, his lips - which were unpainted today, David realized - drawn into a mocking smirk.

A tremble of fury rattled through David's bones, this time without the rush of arousal. He regretted ever coming here. He could not believe he'd actually been stupid (or horny) enough to let Lou tie him up. He wished desperately to be free of his binds, to be on his feet and thrashing Lou beyond all recognition. The ropes dug into his wrists, cruelly reminding him of his helplessness. He did not answer Lou this time - instead he tilted back his head and spat at him.

The rebellious gesture made him feel exquisitely good for one long, glorious moment, but before he could compute the movement itself Lou had cracked the gun across his face, so hard that his head snapped to one side, blood gushing forth from his nose and lip. The salty liquid filled his mouth and throat, overwhelming his senses, and he choked and coughed bloody saliva onto the carpet next to where he sat. Before he could catch his breath Lou was dragging his head back up by his hair, stooping to engulf his mouth in a violent kiss, his tongue forcing its way into David's mouth and mixing the taste of stale cigarettes and cinnamon imperials with the rusty taste of blood. David gave a muffled protest but Lou ignored him, continuing the savage kiss even as the blood running from David's nose pooled and smudged onto his own skin.

David was desperate for breath, but trying to breath through his nostrils was useless - it only brought a rush of blood into his throat and sinuses, threatening to gag him. When he was almost certain his chest would implode from lack of air Lou finally broke the kiss, both of them now breathing heavily, David bent down bleeding and salivating on the floor while Lou stared down at him with an unreadable expression, his mouth smeared with the other man's blood.

"You're so pretty when you bleed," Lou said quietly, with surprising tenderness. "You know that?"

David didn't answer, and instead coughed raggedly, still trying to catch his breath. A long moment passed before he suddenly became aware of Lou jerking and tugging at the binds around his wrists and ankles. He swallowed hard, trying to hold back the nausea that twisted his guts as the blood ran down his throat. "What are you doing?" he managed to choke out.

"That's enough for tonight," Lou said softly. He pulled the ropes free from around David's thin wrists and started on the ones around his ankles.

David just sat there, stupefied. He did not know what to do or say. The whole event had him flabbergasted. Why would Lou tie him up and hit him like that, only to let him go minutes later? With his newly freed hand he reached around and wiped some of the blood off his face.

It was then that Lou bent and scooped David off the floor, looping his hands around his legs and shoulders, cradling him against his own body. David stared at him in utter shock, too amazed to struggle. The blood that had smeared onto Lou's face had begun to dry, looking abnormally dark in the low light, like smears of ink.

Lou carried him over to the bed and laid him out on it. David was amazed at Lou's sudden change of behaviour. It had him more worried now than he had been when Lou had taken out the gun earlier. The dark haired man leaned over him, and David flinched, expecting another blow, but instead Lou kissed him gently, his tongue sliding nimbly across David's own with none of the roughness of before. David did not try to break the kiss this time - he was too absorbed in tasting the sensual softness of Lou's mouth. For a moment he forgot the scratch of blood in the back of his throat, the throbbing in his jaw from where Lou had hit him, the horrible humiliation at being bound and helpless on the dirty floor. He gave a quiet moan into Lou's mouth, not of pain this time but of enjoyment, and at this soft sound Lou broke the kiss, smiling down at him, his lips now appearing to be painted dark red.

'You're so pretty when you bleed. You know that?' Lou's words echoed in his mind, and his brain seemed to take a long moment to wrap around the idea that that was his blood painting Lou's lips. The thought made him feel bitterly cold, a sort of feeling like stepping off a curb too fast, but he soon forgot it when he felt the touch of Lou's deft fingers, now slick with lube. He sighed at the caress, tilting his head back against the pillow, eyes shut to take in only the feeling of the other man's touch. It was then that Lou slid inside that velvet softness, with none of the violent roughness of the last time, his hands moving to slide over David's smooth, supple thighs, grazing against his cock. David shivered at the caress, arching his back, his legs drawn around Lou's waist, binding them tightly together. The movement of Lou's hips and hands were bringing him closer and closer to his climax, and in his mind's eye he saw himself again crouching on the floor, hands tied behind his back and blood dripping from his nose and mouth, and he imagined Lou was fucking him like this, holding him down to the rough floor as he violently tore helpless cries from his throat. He had that image in his mind as he came, spilling against the soft curve of Lou's belly, a vague whisper of the man's name on his lips.

Chapter Text

When David awoke some time later, regretting to see that he was indeed in Lou's bedroom and that the night's goings-on were not merely a twisted dream, the sun was setting, throwing a heady golden light over the room. He couldn't be sure of the time; there didn't seem to be a clock anywhere. He lifted his head, glancing warily next to himself, but the bed was empty. He was alone.

Confused, he leaned over the edge of the bed to peer into the bathroom across from him; the door was swung wide, the lights off. He couldn't see down the hallway, but he heard no sounds from the living room. As far as he could tell, he was alone in the flat.

Feeling a bit paranoid, he swung his slim legs over the edge of the bed, slowly getting to his feet so as not to disturb the bed springs too much. He could still see vague pinkish marks on his wrists - the ropes had been tighter than he had realized. They were no longer on the floor, though - Lou must have cleaned up while he'd been sleeping, because all the evidence of what had gone on had vanished, except for David himself, left alone and nude on the bed.

He found his clothes folded up neatly on top of the bookcase. He couldn't imagine why Lou had bothered to fold them. But then, why Lou did most of the things he did was a mystery to David. He dressed quickly, thankful that he'd worn long sleeves - he didn't want to look at the rope burns.

Stepping onto the cold tile in the bathroom, he flicked on the light and stared at his washed-out reflection in the mirror. His skin looked even more pallid than usual in the florescent light, and the dark purple bruise on his cheek seemed to scream for attention. There were smears of dried blood on his nose and lip as well, and oddly the sight of that disgusted him more than the dark bruise. He turned on the tap, running a few bits of tissue under the water flow, and carefully scrubbed the blood from his face. The rusty stains washed away down the drain, but watching the mess slowly pollute the clean whiteness of the sink made him feel sick again so he kept his eyes firmly above him on the light fixtures until he was finished.

Shutting off the light he made his way into the hallway. He could hear no sound from the front room, but the vague flashing of bluish light reflecting down the hall indicated that the TV must be on. He stood in the darkness, wondering what to do. He wondered if Lou was even home at all. If he was, it would be impossible to leave without him knowing - the only exit was the front door, unless he wanted to try to climb down the fire escape, and it was a long way to the ground if he should happen to slip. He decided against that particular option. 'Who cares if he sees me leave?' he said to himself, but avoided the thought even as it entered his mind, because he realized then that he wasn't sure he really wanted to leave at all.

Sidling through the shadows, he eased down the hall and paused at the end, peeping nervously around the corner. Lou was indeed home, seated on one of the armchairs, watching TV with the sound turned off. David couldn't help but find the scene amusing. The look in Lou's dark eyes was slightly distant and glassy, making David think he must have just recently come down off something. He watched a moment longer, then slid unassumingly out of the shadows, clearing his throat lightly.

Lou turned around, catching his eye with a slight smile, but David dropped his gaze to the floor, finding himself unable to meet the other man's even stare. "Come here," Lou said, not in a commanding way. In fact he sounded rather genial. David stared at him warily, not moving. Lou looked amused. "Come here," he said again, gesturing for emphasis. "I'm not gonna hit you."

That last comment surprised David slightly, but he went ahead anyway, slowly, as if he was afraid Lou really would hit him. He wasn't - now unbound he was confident that if Lou tried to get cute he could get away from him and leave. His hesitance had more to do with the fact that he wanted to go - at least, part of him did, but another part was urging him to stay, to go over to Lou and receive more of his violent blows and cruel humiliation, and that had him feely slightly sick again.

He stood mildly next to the chair, wondering what Lou wanted to do. He was rigid and rather prim, arms hanging at his sides but not slack. Lou stared up at him for a long moment, smiling rather fondly, before grabbing one of his dangling arms and tugging him towards the chair. David allowed himself to be drawn up onto Lou's lap, the American wrapping one arm around his waist and the other resting on his knee. He did not look at Lou, but instead fixed his stare to the dingy greyish carpet.

Lou did not seem to mind the other man's standoffishness. He concerned himself instead with the black-purple bruise that marred his lip and cheek. The swelling had gone down during the night, but it was quite sizable and nasty-looking. Frowning, he dabbed at it lightly with his fingertips. David flinched and pulled away. "Sorry about that," Lou said truthfully. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard."

David did not know what to say to that. He was fully aware of how ridiculous the comment sounded. Lou seemed to be too, for he gave a soft laugh as if reading his mind, a slightly self-deprecating gesture that melted David just a little. Lou's hand had begun to wander a bit, sliding surreptitiously past his knee and onto his thigh. He hated to admit it, but it felt good. He sighed softly, closing his eyes as Lou's fingers played with the fabric of his trousers, drawing slow circles through it onto the soft flesh of his thigh.

Lou leaned in closer, nuzzling the back of his neck. "You liked that, didn't you, Davey?" he whispered against David's ear. "You liked what I did to you." He planted a soft kiss against the man's cheek. "You like it when I hurt you. Don't you?"

He wanted to say no, but instead he whispered, "Yes."

"Mmm," Lou said approvingly. "Good boy." He placed another kiss at David's jawline, then traced a line with his tongue down his long, feline neck, punctuating it with a soft bite. His fingers brushed lightly across the redhead's wrist, a tingle of pain as they rubbed the pink-tinged flesh where the ropes had cut into him, and David let himself relish the feeling - just for a moment.

Abruptly Lou leaned back, surprising David a bit. "Are you hungry?" he asked, gesturing to the kitchen. "I ordered out while you were asleep."

"No," David said, giving him a coy smile. "Not for food, anyway."

That was obviously something Lou could relate to. He gave him an evil-looking smile, kissing down the side of David's neck, moving eventually down his collar bone and onto his chest. Something seemed to infect both of them then, some desperate animal lust, and before David knew it his shirt was off, his own hands fumbling to remove Lou's, both of them tossing clothes haphazardly to the floor as they went. Lou dragged down David's trousers, his fingers burning against the smooth flesh beneath, nibbling at his throat as he went. "Oh, God, Lou..." David murmured, too enamoured in the feeling to think straight enough to concentrate on getting the rest of Lou's clothes off. The American took care of that for him, though, wiggling out of his own pants awkwardly, his stiffening cock pressing against David's ass, a hint of what was to come.

Something suddenly moved Lou to action, and he got up quickly, forcing David to his feet in the process. "Come on," he said softly, tracing a finger up the redhead's throat, drawing it under his chin, beckoning. He stepped slowly backwards, as if teasing David into following him.

David hesitated, just for a second. He could see the dark hallway behind Lou, a glimpse of the bedroom just behind that. He knew that if he followed now there would be no turning back. But Lou looked so good standing there, tempting him to taste the forbidden fruit. He let the other man take his hand, drawing him towards the hallway, and with slow footsteps he followed him into the darkness.

Chapter Text

When they'd reached the bedroom once again, Lou flicked on the lamp and then turned to face his companion. It was only then that David realized Lou still had his boots on. He had been too busy looking at other areas earlier to notice.

David stared at the boots, slightly nonplussed. "Aren't you going to take your shoes off?" he asked.

"No, I think I'll keep them on," Lou said carefully. David thought that a bit odd, but Lou did look terribly sexy in the boots, even with nothing else on. He decided to leave it alone.

Suddenly Lou smiled, remembering something. He reached over to the cluttered dresser, picking up a thick black dog collar, complete with a silver ring where a leash could be attached. "This is for you," said he, handing the collar to David.

David took it, perplexed. It felt surprisingly heavy in his hand. The leather was slick and cool to the touch. A bit reluctantly, he started to put it on.

Lou stopped him. "Let me," he said, and with gentleness that as of late seemed quite out of character for him laced the collar around David's slim throat, stepping behind him to fasten the buckles. It was not until then that David realized how tall the boots made Lou seem. He was not sure why he had not noticed that before. The collar was tight about his neck, the cool leather pressing firmly to his skin, warming to his body's temperature. Lou's fingers were soft against his neck, tracing promises of what would come soon after.

Satisfied with his work, Lou leisurely made his way back around in front of David. With his movement so slow, so precise, it was as if he was teasing David. He placed both hands on each side of David's face, fingers brushing the bruise - pain tingling there, just slightly - and kissed his mouth, their lips slowly parting as tongues met. David gave the slightest moan into the other man's mouth - Lou always knew just how to turn him on. He moved his hands to Lou's chest, his palms rubbing across his nipples, sliding down his belly, his hips, his ass. Lou's own hands were wandering as well, knotting in David's hair, the other sliding over the curve of his belly to fondle between his legs. They wasted no time going to the bed; instead they both ended up on their knees there in the doorway, their kissing becoming hungrier, bestial. As David's tongue swirled inside Lou's mouth, an idea entered his mind that he had not entertained before. He was on top of Lou at the moment, pressed so closely to him that it was almost like holding him down, and the idea was more than thrilling. He smirked inwardly. Perhaps it was time to turn the tables on Mr. Reed.

When they finally broke the kiss it as only to move their mouths elsewhere, their necks twined together, catlike, lips and tongues adorning each other's throats. Lou nibbled softly along David's jawline, and the redhead moaned his pleasure against the man's shoulder. They rolled together, David now lying on the carpet while Lou crouched over him, his tongue infusing pleasure into David's flesh.

Lou, unaware of David's plans, did not bother to pin him down just yet and instead concentrated his efforts on lapping softly just behind David's left ear. It felt amazing, but David managed to keep his head, seeing his opportunity presenting itself loud and clear. Moving with impressive dexterity he twisted beneath Lou's body, thrusting one hip forward and rolling the unsuspecting man onto his back, his own slim frame now on the top, legs drawn up and straddling Lou's hips. The look of surprise on Lou's face was priceless, and David immediately remembered how much he liked being the dominator. He smirked, leaning in to kiss Lou's mouth.

He didn't make it. Lou obviously was not in the mood to sub to David. He did not bother trying to throw him off; instead he reached between David's thighs, twisted his fingers into the thatch of pubic hair, and yanked.

Needless to say David let out quite a shriek at this. It did the trick, though, giving Lou the opportunity to get out of the younger man's grasp, sitting up and shoving David unceremoniously to the floor. David put a hand between his legs in a vain attempt to ease the still-searing pain, while Lou quickly got to his feet, standing over him. "Oh, you'll pay for that stunt, you little bitch," Lou snarled, not looking at all pleased.

David glared angrily up at him. He was tired of this game. "Fuck off, Lou," he snapped. "I'm leaving."

"Oh, I don't think so," Lou stated flatly, shutting the door as if for emphasis. "I'm not through with you."

"Well I'm through with you," David said nastily, getting to his feet. Lou was standing in front of the door, blocking it, but not purposely. "Get out of the way," David commanded.

Lou crossed his arms, staring at the other man evenly. "I think you need a lesson in discipline, little David," he said coolly. "Now: do you want to do this the easy way, or the hard way?"

David stood his ground. "I said get out of the way," he spoke lowly, squaring off against the other man.

Lou smiled and let his eyelids drop low over his eyes. "I was hoping you'd choose the hard way," he said darkly, and drew back his arm to fetch a sharp backhanded slap to David's face.

David saw the blow coming and dodged fairly well, the strike being not much more that a hard brush, but he had forgotten about his badly bruised cheek - even the slightest touch to the purplish skin was agonizing, and a blow of that magnitude was excruciating. He let out a strangled cry, stumbling a step or two backwards, clutching at his wounded cheek as Lou's smarmy laughter rang in his ears. "Bastard!" he swore, backing up towards the bed.

"Shut up," Lou growled, moving towards him. David released his injured cheek, which was now throbbing terribly, and tried to dodge around Lou towards the door. They moved back and forth in the small room like a pair of pugilists, Lou making occasional grabs for David's arm while the latter tried and failed time and again to find a way around his aggressor. The room was too narrow, the bed kept getting in the way - besides that Lou seemed to know each move he was going to make before he had made it, as if they were both pieces in some bizarre chess game- turned- two-step. Finally, this became too much for the frustrated David, and he hauled off and tried to shove the American out of the way. But Lou was no stranger to fights; he moved back as David came forward before he had a chance to knock him off balance and then caught both his wrists as he moved to push him, the two of them now locked together as David struggled to free his wrists and Lou struggled to hold on to them. It finally came to an end when David pulled back a bit too hard and jerked them both off balance, stumbling backwards and crashing onto the bed in a most comical tangle of limbs.

"God damn it," Lou breathed as he regained his grip on David's wrists, which were now pinned between their bodies. David said nothing, still recovering from having the air squashed from his lungs after Lou landed on him. The dark haired man glared down at him, panting slightly. "You are something else tonight, you know that?"

"Get the fuck off me!" David barked in his face, having regained his breath.

Lou did not look impressed. "I thought I told you to shut up," he snapped irritably. After a moment his anger seemed to fade a bit, and he bent his head to kiss the man beneath him, but David jerked away. "Well," Lou sneered. "I guess you're not going to make this any easier on yourself, are you?" David glared at him but said nothing. Lou just smiled. "Suit yourself."

David wondered what he was up to. His eyes flicked to the door - it was not a long way from the bed to there, and he was poised and ready to take flight the moment Lou eased enough weight off him. He did not expect it to be easy - but to his surprise Lou pushed himself up onto his feet without even bothering to try to hold him down. David wasted no time. He swung up off the bed and bolted for the door.

Unfortunately for him, he made his second fatal mistake of the night, completely forgetting that he was still wearing the dog collar. Lou, however, did not forget. He grabbed the thick leather strap as David tried to pass him, jerking the redhead to an immediate halt. It happened with such suddenness that David was not aware for a moment just what had stopped him - his mind was lost in the sudden tidal wave of pain, his breath abruptly cut off by the hard jerk on the collar. He crumpled to the ground, coughing, his fingers fumbling at his tortured throat.

For a long moment he was aware only of the aching in his throat as he tried to draw air back into his lungs, and it was for this reason that the sudden feel of Lou's fingers and cold metal against his wrists surprised him. He looked up just as he heard the unmistakable sound of a metal handcuff clicking shut.

David stared at his now-handcuffed wrist in utter shock, stupefied into immobility. As he gaped dumbly at his newly bound hand, Lou quickly attached the other cuff to the headboard. "Are you through?" he asked in annoyance.

David jerked against the restraint vainly, but as he'd already known it refused to even loosen. He stared at up Lou incredulously, more than a little afraid now. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Lou ignored him. To David's amazement, he bent and scooped the younger man's small frame up off the floor, tossing him onto the bed. David was too surprised to struggle, but once on the bed he recovered his senses enough to try to roll over and get back to his feet. He might be handcuffed to the bed by one hand, but he still had the other, and he wasn't ready to give in without a fight. But before he had a chance Lou was already behind him, snapping another set of handcuffs to his free wrist, tugging his arm painfully back as he attached it to the headboard as well.

David squirmed in the restraining metal cuffs. He felt bare and vulnerable with his arms tied down and spread like this. In this position, he could not even sit up - his arms were held at such an angle that doing so would surely wrench his shoulders out of place. He twisted his neck to watch Lou swagger out from behind the bed. To his surprise, Lou was completely ignoring him now. It was as if he'd forgotten he was there all together. David watched in bemused silence as the American crouched to reach under the bed, dragging out a small, rectangular black trunk. He could hear the resounding noise of metal locks being undone, and then Lou opened the box, the lid blocking it's contents from David's view. He had no idea what Lou might have inside there. He had the feeling that it would be something pain-inducing.

After a moment of sorting through the trunk's contents, Lou glanced over the top of the lid at David and smiled, just slightly. He rose, holding a pair of leather-and-metal cuffs. David watched as best he could as Lou went around to the other end of the bed, attaching the metal bits to the low footboard, then reaching up to hold down his captive's legs as he strapped the leather tightly around his ankles. David was afraid, but he did not struggle. He wanted to tell himself that he was not struggling because he knew it would be useless, but he knew that was not the case. The fact of the matter was he liked the feeling of being helpless at Lou's mercy. The leather cuffs around his ankles squeezed tight, the metal around his wrists even tighter.

Lou took notice of his obedience. He smiled approvingly. "You learn fast, David," he said, moving back towards the open trunk on the floor. His boots made heavy repercussions even on the carpet; David could feel them rumbling in his bones. "But I'm going to make sure you don't forget." He stooped to draw a long, single-tailed whip of black leather up from the trunk.

David's eyes widened at the sight. This more than anything had him truly frightened. Lou shut the trunk heavily with his boot, shoving it back under the bed. He slid the coiled leather lash through his fingers slowly, twining and untwining it as he paced around the bed. He was unnervingly calm. David stared up at him with a look of unabashed fear in his eyes. There was no point in pretending not to be afraid now. In his mind he could imagine all the soft, vulnerable places where the whip might decide to land, and his skin twitched and tingled at the anticipation. Anticipation was always the worst.

Lou stopped pacing. He was now standing just next to the bed, staring down at David coldly. David trembled again, waiting for the blow he knew would come.

When Lou moved his hand, David flinched automatically, but to his surprise the whip didn't come down on him. Instead Lou folded the whip up on itself, tracing the lash gently across David's face, this time avoiding the dark bruise and touching the creamy skin on the other side. David shuddered at the touch but he dared not pull away.

"You really are a pretty one," Lou said, almost tenderly. It surprised David, and he let his guard down just for a moment, forgetting himself for the look of gentleness in the other man's dark eyes. But even as he did the look was gone, replaced by that featureless coldness, and it was then that Lou chose to strike.

The blow caught David completely by surprise, although, even if he had known when it was going to happen, there would have been nothing he could have done to prepare himself for it. The lash of the whip licked across his exposed belly, a roar of white-hot pain that seemed to explode from the spot in all directions, and a yelp burst from his throat before the agony became so great that he couldn't seem to find his voice anymore and could only writhe in his bonds. He had been wrong before - the anticipation was nothing compared to the real thing. This was much, much worse.

Lou waited patiently for the boy on the bed to calm down. It was clear he was enjoying David's misery, but the evidence did not show on his face. His expression remained unperturbed. He had begun to twine the whip through his fingers again, waiting for David to collect himself.

When the still-searing sting of the lash had begun to subside a bit, David chanced raising his head to have a look at his wounded belly. The whip had not drawn blood, but there was already an angry pink welt forming across the pale skin. He was amazed at just how lovely it really did look against the backdrop of white flesh. He was beginning to understand Lou's fascination with it.

His eyes flicked back to Lou, who was watching him placidly, playing with the thin leather tails at the end of the whip. At the meeting of their gazes, Lou smiled, nodding just slightly to himself. He gave a deep sigh before drawing back the whip again and slashing it across David's thighs.

David did not cry out this time, but he only barely managed to contain himself as pain burst anew into his brain. Had he not seen the whip lash out at him with his own eyes he would have been certain it was fire that had sliced across his legs. He grit his teeth so hard that his jaw ached, particularly where Lou had struck him earlier, but it was easier to concentrate on this pain than the stinging that jangled across his legs and still burned on his stomach.

When he opened his eyes, he found Lou staring down at him with a look of mock-disappointment. "What's the matter, Davey?" he said in all seriousness. "Aren't you going to cry for me anymore? Maybe I'm being too easy on you, hmm?" He drew back the whip again and swiped it down in a swift stroke across David's smooth chest, harder than before.

The leather tail licked viciously across his skin, grazing one tender nipple, and David was not able to hold back a howl of agony this time. The shout echoed through the small room, ending in a nearly inaudible whimper, and a small rivulet of blood trickled forth from his nipple and dripped onto the sheets.

"Mmm," Lou said huskily, smiling sadistically. "That's better." He leaned over David's still-writhing body, licking his tongue across the bloody wound, sucking lightly, and the terribly wonderful mixture of pleasure and pain sent David's mind spiralling into oblivion, if only for a second.

Lou pulled away a moment later, leaving behind cold dampness, licking the last of the blood from his lips. "You really do taste delicious, you know," he told David conversationally. He drew the fingers of his free hand through the soft red hair. "You really ought to know how good you taste." He cracked the whip across the other man's soft belly again, and David did not bother trying to hold back his cries this time, knowing that it was useless anyway. This strike flayed open the flesh in a long thin line where the whip had laid, blood rushing to the surface and pooling in the welt, spilling over, running down the sides of his stomach onto the bedclothes. He could feel the hot wetness of the liquid, and he imagined he could smell it as well, the rusty reek filling his brain, although he thought he had probably only imagined that part. His mind went immediately to the dream he'd had after that first night, of the way the razor had sliced into the delicate skin of his belly, and he could feel himself growing hard at the remembrance, the shame he felt for enjoying the feeling only serving to somehow heighten the pleasure.

After a moment he noticed Lou dabbing his fingers onto the fresh gash, gathering the blood onto his fingertips. He opened his eyes to find Lou holding his now bloodied fingers close to his face, pressing them towards David's lips. "Go ahead," he whispered. "Taste it."

David hesitated, feeling at once intrigued and repulsed. Tentatively he pushed his tongue forth, sliding across the roughened fingertips, the taste of blood coating his tongue for the second time. He felt at once immensely disgusted - not at tasting his own blood, but at realizing how good it tasted.

Lou stared down at him, just a hint of a smile on his face. He drew back his hand, leaning down to kiss the boy slowly. David could taste his own blood on Lou's lips - a sensation that was terribly but undeniably erotic.

"Well, well, my little bitch," Lou spoke slowly when they'd broken the kiss moments later. "I think you've learned your lesson well." He flicked the whip to the left of them, cracking it idly against the floor. "But there's something else you have to do for me."

David could only imagine what it might be. He was scared, but at the same time he secretly hoped it would be something painful. Something that would fill him that that delicious shame again.

Lou started to go to the end of the bed, but changed his mind and came back up to David's side. He held the handle of the whip up to David's face. "You can hold this for me," he said curtly, with a sly sort of smile. "I trust you."

David took the whip into his mouth, his tongue curling around the handle. It was wooden but covered with leather for grip, accented with small brass studs. He could taste the salty flavour of brine on the leather, run through with the bitter taste of the brass. His teeth clamped down on the leather slightly, betraying his fear, despite evidence between his legs that hinted otherwise.

Lou patted David on the head then marched down to the footboard, crouching down to unfasten the ankle cuffs. David could hear the clinking of chains and buckles, seeming strangely loud in his ears. When Lou had finished this, he came back around to the headboard, plucking a small silver key from atop a small bookcase just right of the bed. David couldn't see him now, but a moment later he heard a click and felt the cool metal of the cuffs leave his wrists. He drew his arms down into himself warily, meekly sitting up. He wanted to take the whip out of his mouth but he dared not. Lou moved in front of him again, watching him with unwavering dark eyes that gave away nothing.

After a long moment Lou extended his hand, palm up. "Give it to me," he commanded, indicating the whip. David started to take it from his mouth but Lou slapped his hand away. "Not with your hands," he said firmly. David stretched his neck forward, carefully dropping the handle of the whip into Lou's hand.

Lou seemed satisfied with his servant's behaviour. He wrapped his fingers around the handle, moving the whip back a bit, where it seemed slightly less threatening - but only slightly. "Good," he said. "Now: on your knees." He pointed with his free hand to the floor in front of him.

By this time, David had managed to push his prior reluctance to the back of his mind. He was too caught up in the pleasure of this agony, this humiliation. If his mind came too close to facing the truth - that he had truly become Lou's bitch, the very thing he had sworn he would never do for anyone only the week before - then he would simply force himself to think of that blind animal euphoria that raced up his spine each time the whip had cracked across his flesh, and the feeling that still remained as he felt the blood from the gash on his stomach running onto his thighs. He crawled submissively onto the floor, crouching there on his knees.

It was then, kneeling there before his master, that David realized why Lou had kept the boots on.

Lou seemed to know the exact moment when David realized what was in store for him. He laughed quietly, throatily, and shoved one boot in David's face. "Go on," Lou said slowly. "Lick it."

Up close, David could see every detail of the leather straps, the glittering silver buckles, the tight black stitching. He could smell the leather, too, heady and distinct. The laced teeth of the zipper glinted in the light. He hated himself for it, but he realized he wanted to lick it. He wanted the taste of that slick black leather in his mouth, to feel the sensation of cold metal buckles against his lips, the sharp edges of the zipper clinking against his teeth. He closed his eyes, bent his head low. The smooth leather brushed against his lips, startlingly similar to a lover's caress. His breath was heavy, rasping loudly in his ears. He slid his tongue between his lips, dragging in tentatively across the boot.

"Again," Lou commanded.

David swallowed, the taste of the leather sliding down the back of his throat. He licked again, his tongue drawing across the end of the boot, brushing the buckle. The metallic taste was bitter but delicious on his tongue, like a new penny, sharp and biting. He did not stop at one this time. He lapped at the smooth leather straps, feeling the tiny holes, the rough stitches. "That's right," Lou said slowly above him. "Good boy."

Something slithered across his back and David twitched, turning his head to see what it was. He realized it was the whip - Lou was dragging the end of it languorously across his back, tickling the skin there. When he saw David had stopped his service on the boots, though, he gave him a quick, sharp cuff with the folded edge of it across his lower back. "I didn't say you could stop, bitch," he snapped.

David whimpered, although it hadn't really hurt. He lowered his head again, almost as if he was bowing, and slaked his tongue up the front of the boot. This time his tongue touched against the pale bare skin of Lou's leg just above the top of the boot, brushing the glinting zipper as he did, and a tremble of pleasure and anticipation passed through his bones at the combined taste.

"Oh, David," Lou sighed, stroking the whip down the other man's back in a bizarrely affectionate manner. "You love to feel bad, don't you?"

David shut his eyes. The doubt was creeping back into him.

"Answer me!" Lou barked, surprising him.

"Yes..." David whispered, barely audible.

Lou smiled. "That's my boy." Abruptly he seized David's hair, twisting it into a knot around his fingers and jerking the boy's head back. David stared up at him fearfully, an expression that was not put on, but Lou did not seem angry despite his roughness. "That's enough for tonight," he said softly, and released his sharp grip to play with the strands of hair.

David dropped his head in a manner that resembled a servant before his master, something that was unintentional but eerily fitting. The shame was making it's way back into the forefront of his mind, spreading through his blood like a virus, infecting every bone and tissue. Not shame for what he had done, but shame because he knew that, in his heart, he had liked it.

Suddenly he realized the dampened black boot was no longer occupying the space in front of his bent head. He looked up and saw Lou across from him, heading for the bedroom door. "Where are you going?" he blurted out, immediately regretting the words even as they left his lips, partly because he realized Lou might thrash him again for speaking but more because he realized he didn't want the man to leave.

Lou turned and glanced over his shoulder contemptuously. "Why should I stay?" he sneered. "I'm done with you."

The statement cut David deeper than he would have liked to admit. But there was something about the tone of Lou's words that made him think that this was only another game. What frightened him was that he was having a hard time distinguishing between what was play and what was reality.

"What?" Lou snapped. "You want me to stay? Is that it?" He laughed, low and throaty, a mocking sound that chilled David's spine.

"Yes," David said meekly, facing the floor. Was it just fear of the lash speaking? Or did he really want Lou to come back, force him to his knees, lay the cruel leather strap across his back? Perhaps a bit of both.

Lou smirked knowingly, leaning in the doorway for a long moment. Finally he swaggered over to the crouching man, trailing the whip alongside him in an almost feminine way, a deadly Venus. He stopped in front of David, looping one finger through his collar, jerking his head up again to face him. He leaned in, so close that David could make out each dark eyelash inside the frame of smudged black eye shadow. "Beg me," Lou said simply, his words falling hot and wet against David's mouth.

David's heart seemed to tremble within him at the familiar words. His mouth felt suddenly dry, his voice hidden somewhere beneath the scratchy sands in his throat. Lou's finger held the collar taught, the metal buckles digging into the back of his neck. "Please..." he whispered, and the sound surprised him, as if he was not sure it had come from his own throat.

Lou scoffed. "You can do better than that."

"Please," David repeated, a bit louder, although still only above a whisper. He could feel his face burn as he said it and he wished he could drop his head to disguise it.

Thankfully Lou did not push the issue. "Very well," he said curtly, almost primly. He relinquished his grip on David's collar then cracked the whip skilfully against the floor to the right of the man. "On your knees, bitch," he snarled, gesturing to the space in front of the bed.

David slunk lowly over to the spot on all fours, his heart pounding, echoing in his ears. He was afraid - undeniably so - but he did not want this to stop.

A soft clicking sound behind him startled David, betraying his nervousness, but he realized then that it was only the sound of the lid of a Vaseline jar being popped off. He glanced over his shoulder just slightly, and saw Lou had discarded the whip on the floor - still within reach, though, should he need to use it. It surprised David slightly to realize that he hoped Lou would use it, and he turned his face away from the sight once more.

Slick fingers caressed him then, and his breath caught in his throat as he felt the heat of Lou's hard cock pressing against his ass. Lou was no kinder in this than in his previous punishments, entering him with such roughness that it brought a jolt of pain despite the lubrication. David whimpered at this, dropping his head, but Lou gripped the leather collar and tugged him back, the band squeezing into his throat and nearly cutting off his breath. Lou's slick fingers were stroking across his cock even as he did this, and the divine helplessness of being near breathless at his master's mercy only served to heighten his arousal.

Lou tugged roughly at the collar in time with each movement of his hips, the leather digging into the sensitive flesh of David's throat even as Lou's hands and cock touched in places that sent jolts of pleasure up his back, until it was impossible to tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began - they had become so intricately twined they were indistinguishable, one and the same. He realized then that this was like his dream - crouching here on his hands and knees on the floor, blood running down his belly and between his thighs, Lou's body on top of him, crushing him, riding him like a beast of burden, the smell of leather and blood and sex overwhelming his senses. He climaxed at that moment, whether from the memory of the dream or the harsh reality it had become he could not be sure. Vaguely he felt that pleasant heat as Lou came deep inside him, but his mind was too lost in the tide of orgasm to pay him much attention at the moment.

After a long spell of quiet they finally parted, David remaining crouched on the floor with his head bent nearly to touch the carpet, breathing heavy and low. Lou touched David's shoulder lightly, making the redhead jump, but there was no lash waiting for him this time. Lou's amusement at his fright was clear, though - the dark look behind his eyes was tell-tale, the balefulness about his almost-smile undeniable. He looped a finger through the ring on the collar, not tugging this time but instead gently leading his captive towards the bed. David followed without a fight, wary but not unwilling.

When they fell together on the bed once again, Lou took David's thin frame into his arms with surprising gentleness which might have been comforting if it hadn't been for a certain possessiveness about the embrace. David could feel Lou's mouth on his throat, teeth grazing his collar bone, scraping up his neck. "My pet," Lou murmured, the words falling softly against David's ear.

They remained this way for several more minutes before Lou's breathing grew slow and even, indicating he was asleep. David, however, remained awake despite the weariness imbedded deep in his bones. Now, lying here in the darkness with his eyes fixed to the ceiling, there was nothing left to do but think. He never would have imagined himself in this position - now that he was here, it was no longer some sense of pride that held that phantom doubt in his mind. No, it was something far more... sinister than that. He had really been afraid that night. He could not deny that he had enjoyed that fear - he had proof enough of that. But what had him truly worried was that he was not entirely sure that this game as Lou called it was really that at all. The still-bleeding wounds on his stomach lent credence to that. Whatever this game was, he had the feeling that it was far more dangerous than he had first imagined.

Just what was the difference between fantasy and reality? Where did he draw that line?