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Night	By : kattanon Category: S through Z > The Shield Views: 1080 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Shield, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Disclaimer: - I don�t own any of the character of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.
Night - Chapter 14.
Dutch lay on the thin mattress of the double bed, his hands still pulled behind his back, shackled with his handcuffs which were in turn tied to the bedstead. The early morning air was cold, goose flesh stood out all over his body and he was shivering slightly. However, he didn�t notice his physical discomfort, his eyes were open, staring into the distance not really seeing anything around him. He was lost in the depths of his own mind, plagued by memories, both recent and years old. He remembered lying in his bed as a child, his face turned towards the window looking at the stars and moons that decorated his curtains, listening to his father�s voice coming to him out of the darkness. The voice telling him he was being a good boy, making daddy happy, the voice soft, whispering not harsh and yelling like it was in the daylight. His father�s touch soft, stroking, not hard and hurting like it was so often at other times. Dutch had known even then that it had been wrong, those night-time visits from his father and he had dreaded them, but deep inside of himself a small part of the child there had not wanted them to stop, although it was wrong it was the only time his father showed him affection, the only time he felt wanted. As Dutch had gotten older his father�s nocturnal visits had changed, no longer confined to mutual touches his father demanded more, things which caused physical pain, bruises and blood. He was no longer told that he was a good boy, instead he became a slut. It was all his fault, he was the one who made his father act this way, he was the one who led his father on and if anyone found out about it he would be the one they would punish, the one they would take away, he�d never see his mother again he�d be locked up. So he�d kept quiet never telling the secret, locking it away deep inside of himself where it festered in the dark. It only came to the fore during his nightmares and even those had lessened over the years, only occurring when he was working on certain cases, cases like Sally�s. That had been difficult, the nightmares extreme and unremitting until they�d caught Sean the psychopath who�d robbed Sally of her life, if only they could have caught and punished all those who�d robbed her of her childhood. That had been the closest he�d ever come to sharing his secret with someone else, when he�d gone to Danny�s house to apologize for his earlier outburst. He�d begun to explain how important the case was to him, how children like Sally, like he had once been, needed someone to stand up for them, someone to work for them, but he�d stopped himself in time before he�d told the secret shoving it deep down inside of himself again. Now he had a whole new set of memories to join those old ones thanks to Simon. He was so ashamed, so humiliated and the nagging doubt in his mind that his father had been right about him all those years before surfaced. Did he give out signals to others, make them think he would want this, was it his fault? There had to be something, why else would his father have treated him like that, why else would Simon have chosen him. Maybe they were both insightful; maybe they�d both seen something deep inside himself that he was blind to. After all look at how he�d behaved, how he�d responded to Simon. When he�d climaxed while high on the morphine he�d been given he�d tried to excuse his reaction to himself. It hadn�t been his fault he�d been drugged, out of control. Then when he�d let Simon push himself into his mouth and he�d done nothing to stop him, he�d justified it by arguing he�d had no choice, the gun against his head, the threats against Danny and Claudette removing his ability to say no. However, what excuse could he use for this last time when he�d cum while Simon had been raping him, God could that even be called rape he wondered? Although he�d been saying no, although his mind had been screaming, he�d also been pushing himself back on Simon like a bitch in heat his body refusing to obey his brain, craving those intense, incredible sensations Simon had been creating inside of him. It was fitting that he�d reached his orgasm just as Simon had been calling him a whore because that was exactly what he felt like. He had might as well not bother fighting back anymore, if Simon wanted to fuck him he should just let him after all he could hardly be trying to protect his honour anymore, he didn�t have any of that left. The intellectual part of his mind was trying to argue with this damning view of events. It was trying to remind him of the copious reading he�d done on the subject. The very things he�d reminded himself of when Simon had forced him to react when he�d been drugged. When a man was raped they sometimes became erect, they sometimes climaxed, it didn�t mean they�d in any way enjoyed what had happened, it didn�t mean they were secretly gay, it was a physiological response beyond their control. Dutch knew these things but they sounded hollow to him now, they weren�t helping him wrestle with the huge burden of guilt and self-loathing he was feeling.
As if from a long way away he heard the door to the room opening and knew that he was no longer alone, he shut his eyes tight trying to shut everything out. Dutch didn�t want to see, hear, feel anything; he just wanted to be left alone, alone with his pain, his self-hatred. He knew Simon was there but he didn�t want to respond to him, he couldn�t bear to look at him, sure that Simon would instantly know everything that was going through his head, that he would know all of his secrets and usem agm against him. Dutch knew Simon would be gloating, enjoying his disgrace. He felt that hated touch on his arm as Simon turned him over onto his back, his arms and shoulders protested, pain shooting down to his finger tips but Dutch ignored it. He felt water on his lips and couldn�t stop hlf flf from opening his mouth and letting it in. Much too soon the water was gone and Dutch�s eyes finally opened in response to the vicious blow to his face, the result of Simon�s impatience at his lack of reaction.
"I said look at me when I�m talking to you!" Simon shouted at him. "It�s no use wallowing in self-pity, now sit up."
Reluctantly Dutch obeyed swinging his feet onto the floor.
"I�m going to untie you, make you more comfortable. Just behave and you won�t be punished." He was told.
Simon cut the rope attached to the bed and undid the handcuffs allowing Dutch to bring his hands around from behind his back. His shoulder muscles screamed in protest making him bite his lip to keep any sounds of pain from escaping from his mouth. Simon grabbed one of Dutch�s wrists and tied it to some new rope which he�d secured to the head of the bed, Dutch didn�t react he felt empty inside, passive. However, this changed for him when Simon reached out for his other hand, he laughed and said,
"What no more fighting, no more pretending you don�t love everything I�ve done to you huh? Going to be a good boy for me now are you, bend over for me when I tell you to?"
Dutch felt anger, white hot, blazing anger course through him, consuming every other emotion in it�s path, filling up every empty space inside him, the places that used to house his self-respect, his dignity, his soul. He was angry at himself, at his weakness, his inability to stop any of this from happening to him, but most of all he was angry at Simon, at his father for using him for there own perverted pleasure, for treating him like dirt, not caring how much they hurt him. He twisted his wrist out of Simon grasp and grabbed Simon�s bare arm digging his nails in as hard as he could, scratching as deeply as he could wanting to rip his flesh from his bones, make him hurt, make him bled. He thrilled when he heard Simon scream in pain, and dug at his arm even harder desperate to hurt as much as he�d been hurt. Suddenly he was knocked sideways his head spinning from a punch to his temple, Dutch felt as though everything around him was moving; his vision grayed and then went black as he passed out.
The shock of freezing cold water cascading over his face brought Dutch spluttering and choking back to consciousness.
"Get up you little bastard!" Simon screamed into his face. He was dragging on Dutch�s arm pulling him off of the bed and onto the floor. Simon reached down and grabbed Dutch�s hair in one hand; the other wrapped around the top of his right arm pulling him upright. Everything was spinning, Dutch�s head pounding in pain from the blow he�d suffered earlier. He felt like one of those new-born calves he�d seen on the television once, trying to stand for the first time unable to coordinate their legs, slipping and sliding trying to gain their footing. Simon was half dragging him, half carrying him across the room towards the hated table. Dutch didn�t know what he had planned but knew he didn�t want to be part of it and began to struggle with him, trying to pull away. Simon merely tightened his grip and pulled harder,
"You can fight you little piece of shit! How dare you strike out at me, just who the fuck do you think you are. You�re gonna pay, you�re gonna wish you�d never been born when I�m through with you!" Simon screamed into Dutch�s face. His face was incandescent with fury, flecks of spit being flung into Dutch�s face with every yelled word.
Dutch felt himself shoved roughly into a hard wooden chair, he�d never noticed it before and guessed Simon must have brought it into the room while he had been unconscious. Simon quickly wrapped a rope around his chest and Dutch found himself bound to the chair unable to move. Simon pulled Dutch�s hands up onto the table top and pulled a rope up from where he�d already attached it to the table legs, he pulled it over the top of Dutch�s hands securing them to the table top. When Dutch had tried to pull his hands away to stop them being secured Simon had leaned forward putting his face directly into Dutch�s face,
"Don�t you dare move your hands away. If you do I�ll get a hammer and nails and fucking nail them to the table top." Simon hissed.
Dutch had let Simon tie them into place, as he had no doubt that Simon wouldn�t hesitate to go through with his threat. When he�d been secured Simon had taken several deep breaths obviously trying to calm his temper down, and get a grip on himself. He moved around in front of Dutch and told him,
"Now you�re going to be punished. I thought you�d learnt you�re place, I thought you�d realised that you�re nothing, you exist only to service my needs. Well now I�m going to teach you a lesson, a lesson you�re not going too fucking forget. After all the love I showed you, making our last time together good for you, this is how you repay me." Simon held out his newly bandaged arm for Dutch to see.
Dutch couldn�t help himself; he�d looked up at Simon and said,
"Good I�m glad I hurt you you sick fuck, I wish I could fucking kill you."
"Oh we�ll see how tough you are, lashing out, threatening me, I�m going to make you beg, make you cry�you�re gonna wish you were dead by the time I�m finished with you boy!" Simon threatened.
Dutch felt his blood run cold, although he felt that he�d snatched back a little of his self-respect when he�d lashed out at Simon he now wondered if the price he knew he�d have to pay would be too high.
Simon reached und under the table and brought up something metallic in his hand. Dutch frowned unable to see properly what it was; Simon looked down at him grinning,
"Do you know what they do to animals who scratch their owners too much hmm? They de-claw them," as he spoke he held up a small pair of pliers in his right hand.
Dutch was confused, he didn�t understand what Simon was babbling about until he pressed his left hand down on top of Dutch�s right hand forcing his fingers out flat against the surface of the table. As Simon took hold of Dutch�s thumb nail with the pliers and smiled at him Dutch felt his eyes grow wide with understanding, panic flared through him as he desperately tried to pull his hand free. It felt to Dutch as if Simon was tearing his whole finger off, not just ripping his nail out, the pain a red hot, sharp agony. He couldn�t internalize the suffering he was experiencing, he opened his mouth and screamed, and while he did he heard Simon begin to laugh.
Simon had been right, Dutch had cried and screamed as he�d been tortured, and when Simon began to rip out the nails on his left hand he�d begun to beg as well. He begged for Simon to stop, apologizing for what he�d done, promising to behave, promising to be good. However, Simon didn�t stop he just carried on slowly and methodically going from one finger to the next, all the time laughing at the torment he was causing.
When he ran out of fingers Simon was in a frenzy and he hurriedly cut Dutch�s bonds and dragged him up pushing him face down over the table top, pushing him down into the blood that covered the surface. Dutch couldn�t struggle, he couldn�t think of anything but the pain from his hands. They felt as though they�d been dipped in acid, the pain all encompassing, throbbing in time to his racing heartbeat. Even the pain from Simon ramming himself into him just joined in with the symphony of torment his body had become. His throat was raw, screamed hoarse, yet he still managed to give voice to his pain crying out with each thrust into his body. Finally, he felt Simon tense and then empty his filth deep inside of him.
While he was still inside him Simon reached up and grabbed hold of Dutch�s sweat soaked hair pulling his head up from the table top, leaning forward he slowly licked a path up the side of Dutch�s face. Dutch squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold on to his sanity, which he felt splinter into a thousand pieces when Simon leaned forward and whispered into his ear,
"Smile for the camera."
Dutch felt everything in him still at those words, denial tumbling from his lips in harsh whispers,
"No, no�you�re lying�"
"Oh no I�m not�everything that we�ve shared with each other has been filmed, recorded from every angle by half a dozen hidden cameras in glorious Technicolor and in surround sound�" Simon smirked. Looking into Dutch�s forlorn eyes he added, "�and all of it has been sent to Claudette. I wonder if she�s enjoyed watching those tapes as much as we�ve enjoyed making them hmm? I wonder who else has seen them? What do you think, do you think they pity you or maybe you disgust them. After watching you whore yourself to me they probably aren�t even looking for you any more� I mean why would they want a piece of filth like you back again."
Dutch�s voice failed him, his denials falling silent on his lips. Although he�d felt despair at his situation before he�d always held onto the hope of rescue, he�d had faith that Claudette would find him and take him home, he wanted to survive. At Simon�s words he felt cold and empty, he wanted it all to be over, he wanted to die.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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