Gilded C*nt
An original Ronnie Radke SLASH Matt Tuck SLASH Dani Filth story. Has been posted several times under different names but the work is mine. Warning; contains homosexual themes and language not suitable for minors.
The room was violently unsettling to say the least. Cold, bare stone walls and a minimum of coverings; at least, that was all I could see. It feels familiar, like I've always been here, but never been here. Does that make sense? My name is Ronnie, and I am a slave. My masters are nameless, though their faces are etched forever in my subconscious. I don't cook or clean, there are others for that. No, my job requires something of a much baser nature. I'm kept separate from the rest of the staff, always chained to something, they like it that way. There are two of them I'm sure. One is rough and condescending, the other; a freed slave I'd guess, is gentle and softer. Or there are two sides to just one person, I can't be sure, I'm never sure. I can only remember small things about my past; I made music once, made people, teenagers especially, happy as hell. I know that I recognize the faces of my captors. Once upon a time I knew them, but not as the people they are now.
One of them, I'm sure, not positive though, could very well be Matt Tuck. I knew him before, a past life perhaps. I don't know where the name came from, but I remember knowing him when I was famous. But I'm not famous now, well for anything other then fellatio.
Its several hours before my services are needed again, the two of them this time. One pair of strong demanding hands, another pair of gentle, pliable hands, finger tips calloused from something. Work, I think, though it may be something different. The harsh hands grab my shirt and force me into a bruising kiss with a pair of familiar, yet cold lips. I hate it, but I remember the beating from the last time I resisted. He likes it when I resist, he likes to beat me, a sadist in the pure sense of the word. He has kinks too; other then the sadism, he likes toys, and uses them frequently on anyone in the room. I had a boyfriend once, before the slave laws, I don't know where he ended up but hopefully it was someplace better then this. His name was Jepha. I can only pray they were kind to him. The hands are back, rough, harsh and possessive. I'm told to move to a table, and I do so without hesitation. The table is low and old, and someone has cut a hole in one end. I've been on this table many times, in about as many positions. Today, what I suppose is today, is position 12, lying flat on my stomach, cock dangling precariously through the hole. The soft hands are back, he's on top this time. This knowledge, as well as his soothing hands, helps me relax. Nothing will hurt today, and for the time being I will relish it, because next time will be different, next time will hurt.
Dry lips wrap themselves around my quite flaccid member, and for several moments I tune out, remembering Jepha's lips, imagining those scaly, dry lips are his. The one with soft hands moves me so I am propped up on my forearms, hips pressed hard against the table. Neither of them ever calls me by my name; in fact they rarely speak to me. One of them moans like Jepha, not quite the same, but similar enough for me to feel some comfort, some pleasure. The soft hands move around my body, skirting the newly forming scars, tracing the old ones, finding hidden spot's which make a tingling sensation spread over my body. This is different, there is no awkwardness and I don't feel so degraded and alone. The dry lips envelope me, suddenly turning moist and plump and Oh God do they feel good. I think for a moment I might be going crazy, but a pair of calloused fingers rubbing almost ghostly over that small sensitive patch of skin near my balls pulls me achingly out of delusion.
"You've done well." Comes a voice from under the table, the vibration from the noise around my erection sending shock waves up every slightly sensitive nerve possible.
"Matt and I have decided to let you join us on your own terms now."
His name IS Matt. The fingers that were playing with my balls moved to skate over the now sensitive muscles around my entrance. I shivered with both pleasure and anticipation. The words from the one with harsh hands still echoing in my head, like a song you hear too many times on the radio. I could feel warm breath on my shoulder, a considerable contrast to the sharp sting of the cool metal in the lips of the one under the table.
"You won't disappoint us will you?" Matt's voice was soft and clear as he spoke in low tones close to my ear. His breathy sentence made chills run up my back.
I shook my head as I always did, I could never disappoint them. No matter how hard they beat me or how long they used me, I could never betray them. Matt's fingers roamed my body again, paying special attention to those tender spot's he'd mapped out earlier. I felt thick straps coil around my wrists and I relaxed as those pretty lips removed themselves from my straining cock. The straps were tied and yanked tight with little give, just enough that I could raise my chest. Pain invaded my consciousness as I felt, first the harsh pinch of alligator clips on my torso, then the stinging sensation of cinnamon lube. I bit my lip in frustration, knowing that it wasn't the worst of it, but something in my head kept telling me that it would get better. A hand reached down and stroked at the ring of muscles surrounding my entrance before pushing in harshly, I cried out softly and Matt's hands brushed away some loose tears. He shushed me as the pain increased and I tried to pull myself away, his soft, full lips brushing gently over mine. I relaxed slightly into the touch, only to cry out again as the other man, whose name I still did not know, withdrew his fingers and began mercilessly pounding into me.
Tears streamed down my face as the pain from my torso increased the pain from the savaging, all the while Matt kept calming me, wiping at the tears. Ten minutes of the brutality, coupled with grunts and moans from the offender, whose name was Dani, as I found out from Matts shushing, did not seem to satisfy him. He grabbed a series of metal rings and strapped them over his cock before pounding straight back inside me. I screamed from the pain and he quickened his pace, the harsh sound coming from my throat seeming to spur his endeavor further. Not more then two or three minutes of this and he was done, convulsing in utmost pleasure as I sobbed into Matt's chest. Dani withdrew and unstrapped the shackles from my wrists and ankles. There was some clinking behind as I lay still, quite fearful of moving and aggravating someone. There was the hum of what I assumed to be something electronic. Seconds later Dani returned and a burning sensation ripped through my ankle and I cried out, the sound ripping away from my throat in pure agony. Dani had burned into my ankle, in tiny letters, his initials.
Matt's hands sifted through the sweaty, tear soaked strands of my hair as he helped me up to a half sitting half kneeling position, my body cradled between his legs. He brushed the hair of my face and reached for a cloth to wipe the blood from my ankle.
"Dani is so possessive, even after you've been released from his service, technically anyway." He turned me around so I could see his feet, and on the inner side of his left ankle he had the very same mark that I had just received, which made me understand why he was so gentle with me.
"What do I do?" I asked, my face turned into his neck, one hand childishly stroking the other side.
"You're going to stay, no matter what. It's just the way it is, we all stay."
"I don't want to be this anymore."
"You will never have to do it again. He'll have a new one in another day or so." Matt's hands stroked my back comfortingly.
"Can I stay with you?"
"Sure you can, I wouldn't want it any other way."
"Thank you."
I kissed his cheek, blushing the whole time and he smiled at my reaction. His gentle fingers moving over my body as he turned to kiss me properly.
"Make love to me, real love, please?" I asked as we broke apart, each breathless.
He smiled and nodded his head, resting it against mine.
"I'd love to."