Bugger, Q thought. He really had hoped the new guy would beat Silva this time. With a deep sigh, Q got up and went ahead of Silva into their cell to ready himself. Silva's position had been asserted once more, and Q knew that the ensuing sex would be rough and violent. The defeated contender already bore Silva's marks. Tomorrow, Silva's property would do too.
It was not all bad. Mostly, Silva was easy to please and the sex was not always bad, even if Q more often than not would be left to pleasure himself once Silva was done. Then again, some of the guys before Silva would not have allowed him that bit of fun.
No, the problem was that Q had had it with Silva's constant need for affirmation and attention. One would think a super villain like him would be free of self doubts and anxiousness, but nay. Far from it. Then again, using his little fuck boy for his confession booth was safe. Nobody would believe Q in the first place. And he would probably be dead five seconds after spilling any of the 'laments del Silva'. Telling tales about the prison kingpin never went unpunished, as Q had witnessed several times during the last year.
With practiced motions Q divested himself of his prison suit, cleaned and prepared himself. He lay down in the bottom bunk, arse propped up on the pillow, arms stretched out in front of him with his hands holding on to the metal bar that made it for the head board. Silva loved to tie him up, leaving Q utterly helpless and exposed if some of the other prisoners or–God forbid–one of the guards opened the cell door. They would take advantage of him, sometimes even be invited to by Silva–as a 'thank you' for received favours. That was probably the part, Q hated most about his situation. Being used as a gift, presented or passed around to other prisoners or guards for their pleasure. And he better did his best to do so–anything less than positive feedback would result in a harsh disciplining by Silva.
This time, though, Q was sure that Silva would want him all for himself. He would need to reassure his inflated ego by parading a limping Q sporting visible bite marks the next few days. With another deep sigh, Q flexed his muscles, controlled his breathing, and forced himself to relax as Silva entered the cell, followed by the loud cheers from their fellow inmates. Time to close his eyes and let his mind wander to better places.