Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/716846.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      My_Chemical_Romance
  Relationship:
      Frank_Iero/Gerard_Way
  Character:
      Frank_Iero, Gerard_Way, M._Shadows, Synyster_Gates
  Additional Tags:
      Slavery, slave_-_Freeform, Rape, Violence, Abuse
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-11 Completed: 2013-03-12 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 7815
****** Scream ******
by JBankai89
Summary
     Frank has never known anything but a life of enslavement. This time,
     will it be different?
Notes
     A/N: This is my first posting on this site, but it's an older fic
     while I work on some new ones in other fandoms. I've posted this same
     fic on other sites as well under multiple pseudonyms, but most of you
     will know my "Unleash" alias, which is the one I use most often.
     There is a part two to this, and any comments or concrit is welcome.
***** Scream *****
“Get moving, you scum!” Frank grunted when he felt his knees collide with the
sickly green-brown mud on the ground, and he silently cursed himself for
pausing. He struggled to his feet and he stepped forward, following the burly
ogre of a man in front of him.
This was the life he had been forced into. His wrists were bound, and he wore a
pair of faded slacks. No shirt, no shoes, he did not have the opportunity to
embrace such luxuries. The man before him stopped, and as a result Frank almost
collided with him. He did not dare lift his eyes to look around. He could hear
the moans of agony through the rain, and the whip cracks hitting both air and
flesh. The Slave Market was a horrible place; one Frank loathed with ever fiber
of his being.
The slaver who had brought him in dragged him to a wooden post suspended
several feet in the air, and he tied Frank’s wrists securely in place. Frank
groaned, but he did not protest. He was too short, and his feet barely touched
the ground, and the result was his arms aching from the strain.
Hours passed, and the rain came down harder. Frank’s head was slumped forward
against his chest, and he was violently shaking with cold. He had not eaten in
several days and he was sure he was going to get sick, given that the rain felt
like ice against his skin. Frank moaned in agony, but he soon regretted it when
he felt the Slaver’s whip graze his side—bruising, but not cutting the flesh it
came into contact with. “Quiet, you.” He growled, “You’re scaring off the
customers.”
Frank fell silent, though once in a while he would try to stand properly, only
to have his bare feet slip and slide in the mud. He sighed and closed his eyes,
though only for a moment. That was all he had before he heard the sloshing of
one’s footfalls approaching him. The footfalls ceased and a mid-range, gravelly
voice spoke. “Aren’t you over-taxing him, just a bit? Surely this rain isn’t
good for his health.”
“He hasn’t been out here that long,” his slaver replied, “You interested?” The
man did not speak; instead he approached Frank, who tensed when he felt a
strong hand grasp his jaw, and lift his head, forcing Frank to look this man in
the eyes.
Frank squirmed, but he hadn’t the strength to resist him. He stared up into the
hazel eyes so like his own and shivered, knowing his future was set before this
man had even said a word. The man released Frank’s jaw, ands his head fell
forward limply. “How much?” he asked, and Frank’s hands clenched into fists.
Frank’s slaver and this man haggled for a few minutes, finally coming to an
agreement on price. The Slaver walked over to Frank and released him from the
post, and he crumpled to a heap in the mud. He made no noise, and he struggled
to stand before his new master. His wrists were still bound by leather cord,
and he fell once more, splattering his side with mud before he managed to stand
on shaky legs before the man.
The man in question made Frank’s insides squirm. He was tall and muscular with
short, bristly hair and he wore a leather jacket and snakeskin pants. He looked
Frank over with a look of revulsion, before he turned and twitched his hand,
“Come.” He walked off, clearly intending for Frank to follow.
With a grimace, Frank limped behind the man, and he groaned, finding out
quickly that they were walking. The rain was beginning to let up, but the wind
was getting worse, biting at his wet skin fiercely.
They walked for what felt like an eternity, and Frank was aching all over. He
was following the man through a forest path, all the while doing his best to
keep quiet. He had sliced the bottom of his foot open on a rock, causing him to
leave bloody footprints in his wake. With every gasp of pain he froze
momentarily, praying the man did not notice. He never did, but this did not
quell Frank’s fear.
As the trees thinned around them, they came upon a large, elegant manor. Frank
swallowed a gasp at the beauty of it, but he admired it only for a moment,
before he stumbled to follow the man up to the front doors. In his haste, he
gasped and fell, grimacing as a few stray rocks on the grassy lawn dug into his
skin. He quickly forced himself up, the man turning back once to look at him
with a cocked eyebrow.
“Hurry up. I don’t have all day.” He then turned and headed to the doors with
Frank at his heel. Frank stopped, and he was trembling with exhaustion. He
opened the doors, and led Frank inside. He closed and locked the doors and
turned to Frank briefly to cut the bonds from his wrists, “I need to clean you
up and make you presentable for your new master.” He said, then turned and led
Frank up an elegant Oak staircase.
Without daring to question the man, Frank followed him up to a large, beautiful
bathroom on the second landing, easily twice the size of any normal bathroom.
The man stepped over to the tub and ran the water, and Frank leaned back
against the closed door, watching him silently. “Come here, remove your
clothing and get in.” Being perfectly used to being naked in front of others,
he removed his only garment, and he limped to the bath and slipped into the
warm, perfumed water.
Frank savored the next half hour, where this man cleaned him as if he were a
helpless infant, dressed the wound on his foot, and gave him clean, warm
clothes.
Warm, dry, and smelling faintly of vanilla, Frank was returned to reality as
the man led him from the bathroom, up another flight of stairs, and into a
large sitting room.
A roaring fire was alit in the stone fireplace, several large couches were
placed around it, and the floor was carpeted. Frank quickly lowered his gaze to
hide his fear. A man, presumably his new master was sitting comfortably in one
of the armchairs, watching them both with a neutral expression.
“He’s ready,” the man next to Frank said, to which Frank instinctively moved
closer to him, longing for any sort of reassurance. If anything, the man
lurched away from him.
“Shadows,” the low, quivering voice said, “out.” The man Frank now knew as
Shadows spun on his heel and left, almost frightfully fast. The man then turned
to Frank, who was trembling with fright. “Come here, boy.” He said extending an
arm, and twitching a finger towards himself in a ‘come’ movement.
Frank walked forward quickly, and he kneeled before him with his eyes focused
on the floor. He tensed when he felt a warm hand comb through his hair. He
trembled, but forced himself to stay in his place. The man moved his hand to
tightly grasp his hair, and he lifted Frank up and halfway into his lap. Frank
swallowed nervously, with his feet still resting on the ground; his upper body
was splayed across his master’s lap.
He looked down at Frank and smiled, his fingers brushing over his cheek, then
his lips, every touch feather-light. “What is your name?”
“F-Frank,” he replied softly, and he could not help the smallest of whimpers
from passing his lips when he felt his master’s fingers brush across his cheek
once more.
“Frank, lovely,” he purred the words, as if Frank’s intense fear was somehow
pleasing to him. His finger slid down his cheek, then up and across the shell
of his ear. “To you, I have no name. I am your Master. Remember that.” Frank
closed his eyes and suppressed another shiver, while the man’s hand moved to
the buttons of the silk shirt he had been wearing, and unbuttoned it slowly,
slow enough to cause Frank’s heart rate to almost double. He knew what would be
asked of him in this household, but that did not in any way prepare him for it.
His shirt was half open, and he stopped. Frank dared to look up at him, but he
quickly glanced away when he saw his master staring intensely down at him.
“Stand,” he said the order firmly, and Frank stood up quickly. His master
followed in one fluid motion, and he approached Frank in two swift strides.
He roughly grabbed Frank’s hair, and Frank yelped in pain. His master groaned
and kissed him hard, invading his mouth with his tongue and shocking Frank. The
kiss was so powerful…so demanding, Frank could not help but shiver with fright.
He released Frank abruptly, and began to walk towards the doors. “Follow,” he
said simply, to which Frank obeyed, fearing the consequences of not doing so.
He led Frank down the hall and into a large, extravagant bedroom. The bed
itself was large enough to fit four people comfortably, and the room was warm,
absent of any drafts. The walls were a dark, forest green, and it too had a
warm carpet covering the floor.
Once the two of them were inside, his master shut the door and strode towards
Frank, and he hastily unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, then forced it
off. Like before, he roughly grabbed at Frank’s hair and kissed him. Frank
moaned in pain, it felt like his master was bruising his lips in the process.
Breathing hard, he pulled back and stared down at Frank with an animalistic
hunger in his eyes. He pushed Frank back onto the bed, and he kissed him again,
while holding onto the back of his neck in an almost bruising grip.
Soon, he pulled back gasping for air and he rolled over, allowing Frank to be
on top—for the moment. “Undress me,” he murmured while lifting up his arms,
looking at Frank expectantly.
With trembling hands, Frank’s hands moved to the hem of his shirt and pulled it
up and over his head. He moved to the leather belt, unbuckling it and pulling
it off. At that same moment, he noticed something large and heavy tumble onto
the bed. How he had noticed it earlier, Frank did not know, but at that moment
he was frozen with terror. It was a thick whip, the end decorated with an
assortment of iron hooks. His breathing too had stilled and he just barely
restrained himself from crying out when he felt his master’s hand brush across
the back of his neck. “Be a good boy and do what I ask, and you will never feel
those hooks on your back.” Frank looked up, and his master was looking down at
him with a look that could almost have been compassion.
“Get moving, that was not an empty threat.” Frank swallowed and nodded, and
returned to the task at hand. He pushed the already discarded clothing and whip
onto the floor, then unbuttoned his master’s pants, but he wasn’t surprised
when he found there was a lack of underwear.
“Come here,” his master murmured when he had finished, and Frank moved to his
master’s side, still shaking a little, though now more from nervousness than
actual fright. He kissed Frank tenderly, and he slid one hand down to the
button of his pants, and undid and pulled them off one-handed.
“Shadows chose you well,” he murmured when he pulled back from the kiss, while
his right hand brushed across Frank’s chest, causing him to shiver. “Physical
beauty,” he kissed the hollow of Frank’s throat, “docile natured,” he kissed
across his clavicle, “Weak.” He breathed the word against Frank’s skin, and he
suppressed a shudder.  He kissed down to Frank’s belly button, then slid his
tongue down Frank’s happy trail, then stopped when he heard Frank’s strangled
moan.
With a grin, he moved back up and kissed Frank lightly, “Who is the master
here?”
“Y-you,” Frank stuttered, while averting his eyes shamefully.
“And who do you serve?”
“You.” Frank was trembling a little—it had been too long since he desired
another like this.
“On your knees.” Frank hid his shock behind an unresponsive mask, and he slid
off the warm bed to rest between his master’s spread legs. He sat up and looked
down at Frank, “You know what to do.”
Frank took a deep breath to steady himself, then he grasped the base of his
master’s hardened member, and slid the head into his mouth. He groaned, and
combed one hand through Frank’s hair. “G-good boy, keep going…” Frank slowly
bobbed his head, with shameful tears streaking his cheeks. After a few moments,
he deep-throated him, and his master thrust into his mouth in response. Frank
hummed, creating a very pleasant vibration, and he gasped. Frank gripped his
master’s hips to keep himself steady, alternating between deep-throating him
and bobbing his head tantalizingly slowly.
Above him, his master moaned, his hand tightening on Frank’s hair. “That’s it,”
he breathed the words, and took another shuddering breath, “Just…just a little
bit more…” He gasped sharply and bucked into Frank’s mouth, groaning as his
release came in one fell swoop.
Trembling, Frank pulled back and forced himself to swallow, while struggling
against a strong urge to gag. Against his better judgment, Frank looked up at
his master, who was all but hyperventilating, a thin sheen of sweat causing his
skin to almost glow in the dim light of the room. He looked down at Frank, and
smiled. “Come,” he purred softly, to which Frank mutely climbed up alongside
his master.
Frank looked at him silently, much like a shy child to a new face. He tensed a
little when he felt the other man’s hand gently brush along his cheek and rest
there. He pulled Frank in for a deep and passionate kiss, one which Frank
returned almost too eagerly.
Frank’s hands linked behind his master’s neck, and he pressed himself up
against him. “So eager,” he breathed as he pulled back from Frank, “You forget
who the master is here!” Frank cried out, and tumbled down to the ground, for
his master had backhanded him so hard that he was surprised that the bone had
not snapped under the pressure. He now understood why Shadows had acted as if
he feared this man.
He stood over the frightened slave with a fire burning in his eyes. “You do
nothing without my permission, nothing!” He grabbed Frank’s wrist in a
painfully tight hold, and tossed him onto the bed. He was trembling, watching
his master with wide eyes, though this innocent fear seemed not enough to spare
him from his master’s scorn.
All but seething, he flipped Frank onto his stomach and grabbed both of his
wrists in one hand. He tightly tied them to the headboard of the bed, to which
Frank began to cry. “M-master, please—don’t do this—“ he yelped, feeling the
cutting of a ring in his shoulder when he punched him. “Silence.” At that same
moment, he heard the distinct rushing noise of his master brandishing his whip.
Frank clenched his eyes shut…
Crack.
Frank shrieked in pain—it hurt more than he could have even imagined. He
squirmed and wept, barely able to get a handle on the burning, fiery pain
before it came down again.
Crack.
Frank buried his face in the soft blankets and moaned in pain. His movements
slowed a little, in hoped that if his body relaxed, it would hurt less.
Crack.
Blood splattered the sheets, and Frank shuddered.
Crack.
Frank whimpered, but he did not scream. This time, instead of another whipping,
he heard the weapon tumble to the floor. Whimpering in pain, he felt his master
lie beside him and pull the slave close in what was supposed to be a comforting
embrace. He felt the bonds on his wrists loosen and fall, and he pressed
himself against his master. “Never anger me, Frank. It will only be your end.”
Frank had stopped moving, assuming that his torment was over for the night. It
only took a backhand to the side of his face to realize that he was mistaken.
“Don’t fall asleep, I’m not finished with you.” His words were spoken in a cool
monotone, while he rolled Frank back onto his stomach.
Weak from blood loss, Frank could not have protested even if he tried. He felt
his master force him into a half-kneeling, doggy style position, and his hand
brushed across Frank’s back, causing his multiple wounds to sting. He clenched
his eyes shut, feeling his master position himself behind Frank.
He groaned and eased himself into Frank. Frank trembled, but it did not hurt
half as much as he expected. For a brief moment this confused him, then he felt
the bile rise in his throat.‘He used my blood as lubrication…’ Frank closed his
eyes and swallowed thickly, trying to block out the guttural moans his master
was emitting.
Frank closed his eyes, and he imagined himself somewhere else, anywhere else
but here. His master’s moans grew louder, and Frank let out the smallest of
cries when he felt his master’s release.
He collapsed forward on the bed, dragging Frank with him.
 
~
 
Shadows looked up at the ceiling with a small frown. “Hey!” His comrade, a
young man with shoulder-length dark hair and a black fedora shoved his
shoulder. “It’s your move, don’t space on me now.” Gates glared at him past a
hand of cards, and Shadows looked at him after rolling his eyes.
“The screams stopped,” Shadows said simply. “I’ll be right back.”
“Bad idea, dude! I wouldn’t, if I were you. You know how Gerard gets if you
interrupt his playtime with his toys.” Shadows had already stood up, and he was
heading for the door. “Well, it’s your funeral.” Gates mumbled, while
reshuffling the deck and mumbling obscenities under his breath.
Shadows ignored him and headed up to the main floor, and he listened hard. In
spite of Gates being the world’s biggest wuss, he did have a point—if Gerard
wasn’t finished, he wouldn’t want to be the one to interrupt. Hearing nothing,
he silently ascended the next flight of stairs, and headed to the door of the
master bedroom.
He pressed his ear to the door and listened hard—silence. He carefully turned
the knob on the door and opened it just enough to peer in.
They were both asleep. Gerard was snuggled under the bed sheets like an
overgrown child. Frank was lying on top of the bedcovers, the welts on his back
still bleeding slightly, and Gerard was clutching him like a human teddy bear.
Bruises were blossoming on his cheek, along his arms and across his chest.
Smiling with relief, Shadows closed the door silently and he headed back down
to where Gates was waiting. He looked up when he saw Shadows enter, and he
raised an eyebrow questioningly. “How’s the kid?”
“He’ll live,” Shadows replied as he sat down, “But if Gerard keeps this up,
I’ll need to get him a new slave—again. He’s too rough, He’s already bloodied
up his new bed sheets.”
“Dumbass.” Gates muttered as he dealt the cards. Shadows nodded in agreement,
but he didn’t speak. He knew better that to feel sympathy for the slaves,
compassion would lose him his job.
“Agreed.”
 
-Fin.
***** Scream II: Devils *****
Chapter Summary
     Gerard needs a new toy to play with.
Chapter Notes
     Gerard/Frank, Zacky V/Gerard (A7X Crossover)
Scream II: Devils
 
Shadows hated being called by Gerard. Usually it ended with him heading to the
Slave Market, after promptly burying another slave in the forest behind the Way
Manor.
As he approached the twin doors leading to the sitting room, he breathed a
trembling sigh of relief. Inside, he could hear the steady crack of Gerard’s
whip. And the slave’s hoarse cries in response. Quickly Shadows composed
himself, erasing the mild fear from his expression and he replaced it with a
stony, expressionless look. He raised a single knuckle to the wood and knocked
three times.
“Enter,” Gerard’s calm, mildly amused voice called, closely followed by a yelp
of pain. Shadows pushed the door open, and he swallowed thickly in order to
keep his face from contorting into a look of disgust.
Frank was on the floor with his hands bound behind his back. He was kneeling
and his head was bent forward, he was violently shaking in pain and exhaustion.
A small pool of blood rested behind him, dripping from the countless bloody
lashes administered by the whip Gerard still held.
“Shadows!” Gerard called in an overly cheery voice as Shadows approached, and
he whipped Frank again for good measure. Frank whimpered, but this time he did
not scream. Shadows assumed his back was going numb from the abuse.
It had been a month since Frank had been brought to the manor, which was a
record for Gerard. Apparently he was fond of this one, or he would have had
Shadows execute him long ago…or kill him himself.
“You called for me, sir?” Shadows held his head high. But he avoided looking
Gerard directly in the eyes. He knew how far he could go before he was stepping
over the line.
“I did,” Gerard replied with a slight smile, while the whip came down again,
this time slicing open the skin on Frank’s inner elbow, causing the young boy
to yelp in pain, closely followed by a moan. It was clear Gerard had been doing
this for a few hours. “You see, I’m finding myself growing bored…” He shifted
his gaze from the slave up to Shadows’ horrified expression, and he laughed.
“Relax, Shadows. I won’t have you kill him just yet.” Shadows relaxed only
slightly, and he patiently waited for Gerard to continue. “You see, I want a
new challenge, something to maybe…keep darling Frank company?” Shadows smiled,
and he nodded.
“I understand, sir.”
 
                                      ~*~
                                        
The Slave Market had a distinct smell to it, and it always made Zack slightly
sick. He would complain, if he didn’t fear a violent lashing. Slavery kind of
sucked in that respect. He grunted, pausing for a moment too long, and his legs
were kicked from under him, and he fell to his knees, shuddering when he felt a
combination of glass and rock cut into the skin. “Get up,” the cold voice of
the slaver cut him like a knife, and he stood slowly, ignoring the small amount
of blood that was now dripping down his leg.
His slaver grabbed his arm roughly the second he was standing again, and led
him to the dreaded post. Zack grimaced as the slaver tightly bound his wrists
to the post, and then stepped forward to call out price and Zack’s “benefits”
to anyone who would listen.
As he shouted, Zack began to struggle against the bonds that held him. He
twisted and squirmed, then gasped in pain when he felt a whip graze against his
thigh. “Don’t you fucking dare,” In response to the seeming threat, Zack glared
at his slaver, who smirked and turned back to the passers-by. Zack smirked and
stopped moving, but he twisted his hands. Being a slave to one such as this man
did have his perks, and his personal hygiene was apparently completely untended
to, and as such, Zack’s fingernails had grown quite long.
Being careful to appear as the weak, unable to move type of slave, he dug one
nail into the edge of the cords that bound his wrists, and began to slide it
back and fourth like a miniscule saw.
Every few minutes Zack would pause when his slaver turned to glance at him,
then he would turn back to the crowd, and Zack would return to the tedious task
of attempting to cut himself loose. It took a few minutes, but he finally
managed it. The rope fell, and Zack bolted, knowing full well that a moment’s
hesitation could result in a very painful death.
He heard the Slaver calling out, but in his panic he could not decipher the
words amongst the rushing wind in his ears and his heavy, laboured breathing.
He had barely made it halfway across the market before an arm sprung out of
nowhere and caught him around the waist.
Zack choked, the sudden blow winding him, and he tumbled down to the ground in
a heap. He looked up into the face of a man with a hard, stony expression. He
was unnerved, and though his body and mind were screaming at him to move, he
felt as if this may be pointless. Something about this man told Zack that he
would simply be caught again if he tried to flee.
“Master Shadows!” A voice called from behind Zack, and he stiffened. His Slaver
had finally caught up. “Thank goodness you caught him! Young Zack here is the
liveliest one I’ve ever tried to sell.”
“Hm,” Shadows’ response was barely audible, his eyes remaining focused on the
now very frightened Zack. “Stand,” the order was clear, but Zack remained
still. A few seconds passed, and Shadows spoke again. “Please don’t make me
hurt you, it’s so tiresome to undo the damage later. Now get moving.” Shadows’
tone of voice was level and calm—almost monotone, but Zack clearly heard the
threat embedded in these words. And judging by the size of this man’s biceps,
it was no empty threat.
Zack forced himself into a standing position and he glared at Shadows as he
approached. With his Slaver now directly behind him, he had no way to flee from
what was coming. Shadows reached out a hand, and Zack jerked his head out of
his reach. Shadows growled in frustration, and he again reached out to grab
Zack’s jaw.
Zack fought down a wince, as the grip was anything but gentle. Shadows tilted
his head from side to side, and then lifted his head, keeping him still without
even trying. Shadows moved to inspect the rest of Zack’s body which, Shadows
noticed, was in far better shape than Frank’s had been when he came to fetch
him. The small amount of clothing the slave wore was dirty and tattered, and
though he smelled as if he had not seen a bath in weeks, he was free of any
actual damage. He released Zack’s chin, and he turned to face the Slaver.
 ~
The return to the manor was unpleasant for both the Slave and the purchaser.
Zack was far more spirited than Frank had been, and as such he bolted more than
once, and Shadows was forced to find him. After the third time of this, Shadows
kicked the legs out of under the slave, successfully spraining one of his
ankles. Zack stopped fighting, and the remaining few miles to the manor went by
without occurrence.
As with Frank, Zack was led inside and up to the master bathroom, where he was
cleaned and prepared for Gerard. Though unlike with Frank, Zack kicked, yelled,
and tried to attack Shadows more than once, clearly ignoring any pain his ankle
may have been causing him.
Finally dressed in a loosely fitting black wife beater and slacks, he was all
but dragged to Gerard, who was patiently waiting in the sitting room. However,
just before Shadows knocked, he spun to face Zack and narrowed his eyes at the
slave. Zack cocked an eyebrow questioningly, and Shadows firmly grasped his
shoulders. “Listen,” he murmured, his voice barely above that of a whisper, “If
you fight him he won’t sprain your ankle, he won’t just give you a beating,
he’ll kill you. Regardless of what you think of me, I don’t like burying people
your Master has slaughtered for insolence.”
“You are a strange man, caring for a slave like that. Better make sure your
employer doesn’t hear you say that.” Shadows didn’t know whether he should
laugh or cry. He then turned to the door and knocked twice.
“Come in!” Gerard called through the door. Shadows pushed the door open, Zack
followed with his head bent forward a little, feigning a docile temperament.
The door snapped shut behind him the moment after he stepped inside, and he
heard the light footfalls of his new master approaching. With Shadows’ advice
still fresh in his mind, he kept his eyes firmly focused on the ground. Zack
grimaced when he felt a strong hand grasp his jaw in a bruising grip. He
struggled to keep his expression neutral as he was forced to look up.
“Hmm,” Gerard mused softly, his eyes scanning over Zack’s face, then he
released him to have a better look at his body. “In better shape thank Frank,”
he noted, to which Shadows nodded curtly.
“He is spirited, sir,” Shadows replied, any compassion he may have had for the
slave seemed to have gone. “Given the opportunity, he will try to fight his way
to freedom.”
“I see,” Gerard raised an eyebrow as he spoke, then he laughed softly, “Well
then…I will just have to break him.” Zack tensed and he looked up, the hungry
grin on Gerard’s face making it apparent that he was in no way joking around.
“Shadows, thank you. You may leave now unless…” Gerard smirked, “Unless you
wish to watch?”
“I will leave, sir.” Shadows’ response was quick, though his facial expression
and tone of voice was still professional. He glanced apologetically at Zack,
and then he quickly left the room.
Alone with his new master, Zack struggled to keep his eyes down.  Despite his
usually rebellious nature, he had no desire to die, and therefore he knew he
would have to play nice.
He heard the footsteps of the man he knew as Gerard approaching and he tensed,
fighting every urge to bolt. His rough, calloused palm gently grasped at the
back of his neck, while the other gently grazed his chin, forcing Zack to look
up. He swallowed nervously, taken aback by the sheer terrifying beauty of the
man, if such a thing was possible. He was grinning, and there was a smear of
fresh blood upon his cheek. Everything about him drew Zack in, though his human
instincts were all but screaming for him to run.
“Are you afraid?” he whispered the question as he pulled Zack closer, the
sudden movement snapping Zack back to reality, though a second too late as he
stumbled into him, and he felt his master’s hand tighten on his neck, holding
onto him possessively.
“N-No,” Zack stammered softly while he clenched his fists, ‘Don’t run, don’t
run, it’ll be much worse if you do…’ the thought was almost a mantra, and it
was the only thing that kept him from moving. To Zack’s vocal reply, Gerard
chuckled softly. He pulled Zack even closer, and he pressed his lips to the
slave’s, delivering a kiss filled with such tenderness Zack’s train of thought
seemed to melt away.
Gerard pulled back a mere second later, and Zack shook his head a little to
pull him out of his daze. “You should be.”
It took Zack a few seconds to realize that the kiss was nothing but an attempt
to calm the slave, something that clearly hadn’t worked. Zack stumbled
backwards into the locked doors, while Gerard strode forward and grabbed him by
the throat, “What is your name?” he squeezed on Zack’s throat a little, “I do
not feel like calling you slave all night.” When Zack did not answer, Gerard
squeezed a little harder, and if he was annoyed, it did not come out in his
voice. “Answer me, boy, unless you want me to crush your windpipe.”
“Z-Zack,” his response was choked out past the hand around his neck, and he
grunted when Gerard threw him back into the door, forcing a gasp of pain from
the boy.
“Well, Zack,” Gerard smirked, “you will join me in the bedroom, so we can get
to know each other.” He laughed darkly, and Zack paled.
 ~
“Think he’ll last the night?” Gates’ question came as Shadows re-entered their
basement sitting room. He was shuffling a deck of cards, and there was a band-
aid on his left cheek.
Shadows didn’t answer right away, and instead sat across from Gates at the
small table. “No, I don’t think so,” he said, while Gates continued to
absentmindedly shuffle the deck, and Shadows continued to speak. “He was
spirited, Gerard will either break him like Frank, or just kill him.” Shadows
frowned, then looked over to Gates. “Deal the cards, I don’t want to think
about it anymore.”
 ~
Upstairs in the bedroom, Zack was thrown onto the oversized bed, and he grunted
from the force of it. He quickly sat up, expecting to be pinned down by the
man, but instead he was kneeling next to the bed and pulling something out from
underneath it. “No, no, master—please!” the voice made Zack wince. It was
terrified, and seemingly close to tears.
“Come now Frankie, you need to meet your new friend,” Gerard laughed darkly,
and with one last pull he dragged out the young boy.
It took every ounce of Zack’s willpower to keep his face from contorting into
one of shock and disgust. The boy looked awful. Thick, long scabs covered his
arms and chest; he sported a black eye and several thin cuts and scratches over
his cheeks. Zack shifted back, and Gerard stepped up behind the terrified boy,
and turned him to fully face Zack. “Frank,” Gerard purred, while his arms
lazily wrapped around his shoulders, “Meet your new friend, Zack.”
“Hello, Zack.” Frank’s voice was deep, and it almost had a mechanical tone to
it. His eyes were wide with fright, and as a single hand trailed down the front
of Frank’s chest, the young boy stiffened and seemed to be struggling with an
urge to flee.
Behind Frank, Gerard was smirking. He slowly led Frank to the bed, and Frank
sat down mere inches from Zack. Gerard moved away, and he stopped in between
the bedposts where he watched the two boys intently. “Now Frank, where are your
manners? Make the boy feel welcome!” He laughed and waited while Frank turned
his eyes to Zack.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed the words, and his eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
Frank tilted Zack’s head up, and pressed his lips to Zack’s in a tender kiss,
which Zack instantly returned. Something told him that if he refused Frank’s
kiss, the other boy would suffer from his crass mistake.
Zack trembled as he felt Frank’s shaking hand slip under the hem of Zack’s
shirt, and Frank pulled back from the kiss. While his hand slid further up his
chest, he pressed a series of small kisses to his jaw and throat. The combined
sensations caused Zack to groan and lean his head back. Frank’s hand had now
slid back down his chest and it was worming its way into Zack’s pants.
Frank’s attempt was cut short however, when Gerard reached a hand out and
grabbed Frank’s wrist tightly. Frank winced, but he immediately let up, and
carefully turned to face his master, while avoiding the man’s angry gaze.
“Frank,” Gerard’s voice shook with barely controlled anger, “do not touch,” he
then forced Frank away from Zack, and he bit his lip, struggling to suppress
his obvious fear. Zack had clearly seen Gerard twist Frank’s wrist, knowing
that by the expression upon the boy’s face was enough to prove that he had
successfully sprained it. However, Frank did not cry out. Instead he backed off
and watched sadly, seeming to know as well as Zack that there was nothing that
either of them could do if Gerard’s intention was to rape Zack.
Gerard quickly took Frank’s place, and forced off Zack’s shirt. The roughness
caused Zack to whimper fearfully, and he unconsciously pulled back when Gerard
tightly grabbed his wrists.
In response, Gerard slapped him, and the sound seemed to reverberate off the
walls. “Never pull back from me, Zachary. I own you, you have no say whatsoever
in what I choose to do with you.” Before Zack could react, Gerard forced him
down onto the bed. With one hand holding onto his throat, Gerard used the other
to yank off the slacks Zack wore, and throw them aside.
Gerard forced a kiss upon Zack, who cried out in protest from the bruising
force of it. Gerard then proceeded to bite along Zack’s jaw line and down the
side of his neck none too gently. Gerard left a trail of red and slightly
swollen bite marks in his wake, stopping only when he reached Zack’s left
nipple. This time, Gerard bit down, hard.
 ~
Shadows faltered, his hand hovering inches above the card deck. He and Gates
looked up, frowning a little.
“That kid’s really got a set of pipes on him. I haven’t heard a scream that
loud in a while.” Gates grinned a little, but frowned a moment later when he
saw the look on Shadows’ face. “Dude, don’t even think about it. If we try to
save them we’re dead meat.”
“I know,” Shadows replied after a moment of silent contemplation. “I just hate
how we have to put those kids through that torture…” He frowned and looked down
at his hand of cards, while Gates smiled.
“Your conscience is too big for this job, you know.” Gates sighed and got
comfortable in his seat, then motioned to the deck of cards with his free hand.
“Draw.”
 ~
Zack had rolled on his side, and he was trembling with pain. The bite wound on
his chest was bleeding profusely, and Frank was visibly trembling from the
effort it took to not run to the other boy’s aid. Above Zack, Gerard was
laughing while he forced Zack to roll onto his back once more. Gerard rested
his knees on either side of the boy’s hips and he leaned in close enough that
Zack could smell the combination of blood and peppermint on his breath. “That,
my dear boy, is just a taste of what’s to come.”
While ignoring Zack’s soft whimpers of protest, he flipped him onto his stomach
and forced him into a kneeling position. “Ever taken it up the ass, Zack?” He
ground his still clothed member into Zack’s bare butt, “If you scream, I’ll
make you wish you were never born.”
Zack tensed when he heard Gerard zipper, and a moment later the warm tip of his
cock against his behind. He clenched his hands into fists, and Gerard chuckled.
He grabbed onto Zack’s hips roughly and pushed in. Zack immediately buried his
face in the sheets to muffle a scream, and he visibly trembled in pain. Frank
had buried his face in his bent knees and pressed his hands tightly to his
ears, hoping to drown out the sound. However, when Gerard grabbed a handful of
Zack’s hair and forced his head back, the screams only intensified.
“Stop…make him stop…” Frank murmured to himself in between trembling sobs,
while Zack’s shrieks of pain bounced off the walls, causing the Frank to
shudder with a combination of fear and intense sympathy for the boy.
This went on for several minutes, and soon Zack’s screams faded, though an
occasional whimper still managed to pass his lips. Gerard groaned behind him,
and Zack gasped with pain as Gerard released inside of him. He let Zack go, and
he collapsed onto the bed, shaking with shock from what had just happened.
Gerard smirked and pulled out of him, before forcing the limp figure off the
bed, who landed in a heap on the floor.
Slowly, Frank pulled his hands away from his ears and looked up. His eyes were
wide and red, as if he had been crying. He was shaking a little in a mixture of
shock from the boy’s reaction and fear of what was to happen to him now that
Gerard’s new plaything was out cold.
“Frank,” the sharpness of his tone broke his train of thought, and he looked up
into Gerard’s cold hazel eyes nervously. In response, Gerard smirked and patted
the bed, “Come to master.” Frank stood up shakily and quickly made his way over
to Gerard, who grabbed him when he was within arm’s reach and forced him onto
his back.
Frank bit his lip to stifle a yelp. The lacerations on his back from the whip
Gerard had used on him earlier were not completely healed, and as a result the
brush of the fabric caused his back to burn momentarily in an almost unbearable
pain. He then relaxed against the soft material, while he looked everywhere but
in the eyes of his smirking tormenter.
At this point, Frank could no longer see Gerard clearly, his face had begun to
blur as Frank’s eyes flooded with frightened tears. He did not speak, fearing
the consequences of doing so. After a brief moment of silence, Gerard began to
move, placing a knee on either side of Frank’s hips, and his hands pressed down
into the mattress on either side of Frank’s head. The smallest of frightful
whimpers managed to slip through Frank’s parted lips, and he clenched his eyes
shut, causing the tears to fall from his eyes and dampen his cheeks.
Frank trembled, feeling the gentle brush of Gerard’s lips against his own,
though he did not dare to move into the kiss, his fear of Gerard keeping him
almost unnaturally still. Gerard broke the kiss, he hovering mere inches above
the boy. “Open your eyes,” he whispered, to which Frank obeyed instantly. The
command, however, could not erase the look of terror still embedded within the
boy’s gaze.
Gerard smiled, and he leaned in to kiss Frank again, and he brushed away a
fresh stream of tears with his fingertips. “Don’t be afraid, my dear boy. What
have I always told you? If you do exactly as I ask, you will never see harm.”
He smiled gently, and began to stroke the boy’s hair while he cried silently.
Gerard spent the next few minutes kissing him and stroking his hair, offering
words of comfort where they were needed. Finally, the seemingly endless stream
of tears stopped, and Gerard lay down next to the slave, pulling him close.
Frank curled up in Gerard’s arms, and he kissed the side of Gerard’s neck
softly. Gerard smiled, and moved a hand to cradle Frank’s chin, forcing him to
look up. The fear was no longer there, however Gerard did see a mix of
confusion and curiosity. It had been a while since Frank had seen Gerard be
this gentle with him.
Gerard not speak in response to the look in the Slave’s eyes, instead he kissed
him again, while he moved his arms to gently wrap around Frank’s waist,
carefully avoiding the still-healing wounds upon his back.
Frank moved closer and he returned the kiss, while wrapping his arms around
Gerard’s neck, the movement causing Frank to press himself against his master,
to which Gerard groaned softly.
Gerard gently wrapped one leg around Frank’s closed legs, intending to show
Frank just how much he needed the boy, when the bedroom door burst open with a
loud bang, causing master and slave to jump apart slightly and look to the
door.
“G-get away from him!” Shadows stood in the doorway shaking almost violently
with anger, and the revolver in his hands was almost visibly shaking from the
strain of trying to hold it steady.
Unwillingly, Gerard lifted his hands in the air and away from Frank, who
instinctively clung to Gerard, now ignoring the pain in his back while he
watched Shadows step into the room, with the gun still pointing at Gerard’s
heart. “I’m taking the boys. I’m killing you, they will never see this place
again.” As Shadows spoke his voice shook, and Frank watched him with wide eyes.
“And what do you intend to do with the boys? I never saw you as the type.”
Gerard chuckled, and Shadows gritted his teeth, while he flicked off the
safety. Gerard’s laughing stopped abruptly, and he looked up to Shadows’ face
with slightly widened eyes. “Now Shadows, don’t do anything you’ll regret…” his
voice seemed to fail him, and he hardly noticed Frank crawl into his lap and
rest his head over Gerard’s heart, while he silently watched Shadows, almost as
if he was daring him to pull the trigger.
“Take the other boy if you wish,” Frank’s voice came out as a whisper, cracked
and raw. “I will stay with my Master. Only when I die, by his hands or old age,
will I leave him.” He turned his head a little to look Shadows straight in the
eyes, while making sure to keep himself in between the two men. “Or will you
kill me?” his voice lowered, now just barely that above a whisper, though the
air of challenge in his tone was clearly evident.
Shaking, Shadows dropped the gun and ran to Zack’s side. He lifted the boy up
and carried him out of the room, stopping only once to turn and glare at
Gerard, who was smirking behind his human shield.
With Shadows gone from sight, the two listened to his fading footsteps, and
Gerard relaxed only when he heard the roar of a car engine, indicating that
Shadows and the slave had gone. Gerard smiled faintly, and he took Frank by the
hips, spinning him around so that they were facing each other. “You do realize
what you just did, Frank? You could have finally been free, you would never
have to answer to another master.” Gerard’s voice was soft, but not accusatory.
He was merely confused, and as he spoke, his fingers brushed up and down the
lengths of Frank’s arms, causing the boy to break out in goosebumps.
Frank leaned in to kiss Gerard tenderly, much less like a slave and more like a
lover. “And the idea of living as a free man when I couldn’t have an excuse to
go to bed with you? There is something terribly wrong with that.”
Frank did not know what had made him say it. He had known only pain and torment
at the hands of Gerard, he was plagued with nightmares and his back—mutilated
with extreme amounts of scarring was just one example of the hell he was put
through on a regular basis. Yet, in spite of all the pain and anguish, he could
not bear the thought of leaving. Frank wrapped his arms loosely around Gerard’s
neck and kissed him tenderly, one that Gerard returned without question.
That night, Gerard and Frank made love, the titles of Master and Slave
abandoned.
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