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. |
Disclaimer: - I don’t own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.
Night – Chapter 6.
Simon felt so much better after his shower; he walked over to his monitor just to make sure that Holland was all right. Rubbing his hair dry with a towel he smiled when he saw Holland’s abused form on the screen. Now he had promised Holland that he would look after him so this was the time to do just that. He quickly fetched a bowl of hot water, a clean towel and some antiseptic cream that also contained an analgesic. Simon was always careful to take care of his playthings, he had made a mistake with Peter and hadn’t kept his little wounds and tears clean enough and he’d gotten sick with an infection. It had meant that by the end of their time together he had been sickly and not nearly as much fun for Simon as he should have been. He wouldn’t make that mistake again, and especially not with Holland, no Simon wanted him in tiptop condition for as long as possible. Humming to himself Simon went into the room where Holland was held prisoner.
When he heard the door opening Holland began to pull at his bonds and little whimpering noises of distress began to escape from his mouth.
"Now, now no need to be silly I’m just here to make you more comfortable, to look after you. If you’re a good boy I might even take that blindfold off. Would you like that hmm?" Simon said as he walked towards his captive. When he reached Holland he placed the bowl of water, towel and cream on the floor; he couldn’t resist running his hand over one taut flank. The reaction was immediate and not at all what he expected.
"Don’t touch me you fucking pervert, don’t you dare touch me!" The bound man before him screamed. "I’m going to fucking kill you, I’m going to take my gun and blow your fucking brains out you piece of shit!" All the while he pulled and squirmed try to get free from the rope which secured him to the table, his hysteria building by the second, desperate for escape.
Simon felt his anger flare inside of him white hot and vicious, here he was coming to help Holland and this was all the thanks he got, to have it thrown back in his face, to have that language screamed at him. Holland had to be severely punished, he had to learn to curb that temper of his, and he had to learn to be grateful when Simon decided to show him kindness. His hands shaking in temper Simon quickly undid his leather belt pulling it from it’s loops, and clutching the buckle in his right hand he got ready to apply some much needed discipline.
"Silence!" Simon shouted. "How dare you speak to me like that, after all the time and trouble I’ve spent on you. I chose you, you’re special and this is how you behave. You’ve got to learn your place now, your old life is over this is you’re new life, here with me, pleasing me, doing what you’re told, obeying me. I can see you need to be corrected, well so be it."
"No! Let me go, you’ve got to let me go, I can’t…" The rest of Holland’s words were cut off in a yelp of pain as Simon brought his belt down across his buttocks. Simon allowed his anger to take him completely, his belt cutting through the air and connecting with the flesh before him over and over again. He lost track of time passing giving himself up totally to purging himself of the white heat that burned inside his head. Simon wasn’t sure how many times he’d struck Holland but when the blinding rage finally eased he could see the results of his actions, and he thrilled at the sight. Holland’s back, shoulders, buttocks and upper thighs were criss crossed with angry red welts, some of which oozed blood. The muscles in Holland’s back twitched involuntarily under the evidence of the abuse his body had suffered. He was gasping in lungfuls of air; every breath out accompanied by a moan of pain. Simon couldn’t resist the beauty he saw before him, he quickly freed himself from his trousers and stepped up to Holland resting his erection at the opening to Holland’s body which still trickled a little fresh blood due to Simon’s earlier attentions. He glanced down as he gripped Holland’s hips, pulling him back towards himself and up a fraction to make Simon’s lunges even deeper than before when the moment came, and he smiled pleased to see his fingertips fitting perfectly into the bruises that he’d left there before. Holding still for one moment longer he whispered,
"You know it’s for your own good don’t you, naughty boys have to be punished."
With that he plunged into the warm body he craved. His groan of passion overlapped his victim’s groan of hurt and anguish. Each lunge of Simon’s body into Holland was accompanied by that same haunting sound. With no strength left to call upon to struggle or fight he lay under Simon passively being taken, his body being driven mercilessly into the hard, cold, wooden surface beneath him. With a cry of perverted pleasure Simon climaxed, his hands grasping reflexively onto Holland’s hips his nails cutting 10 new half moons into the bruises. Pulling his flaccid penis from Holland’s body Simon briskly rearranged his clothing and then observed the other man. With a smile of satisfaction he pulled his knife from the sheath in his pocket and cut the ropes holding Holland’s legs in place, and then freed his wrists from the rope cutting into them. He quickly stepped back out of the way as Holland slid from the table onto the floor, where he lay unmoving. Simon gathered up his cleaning implements that would have to wait until tomorrow he thought to himself, and turning towards the door he left the room humming happily. He left his chosen one lying motionless, torn and bleeding in a growing pool of semen, blood and despair.
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