The hotel room door crashed closed with a sickening slam, sending waves of fury reverberating through the small chamber.
Shawn startled as the echoes of anger fragmented around him. He looked up to find his employer furiously staring back at him, black orbs burning with the debris of displeasure.
"What the fuck was that?" he hissed, disgust threaded in the breathless bite. Through slits of despise he watched Shawn rise from the bed he'd been sprawled on.
"What was what?"
The cocky sneer burst forth before he could prevent it, the arrogance of the Shawn Michaels of old creeping into the southern croak.
His breath escaped him on a cloud of anguish; his head snapped back at the blow. The stinging pain weaved its way across his cheek, ripples of scarlet spreading across once vibrant flesh. Sun kissed features smeared rouge as the slap connected full force.
Head reeling he grasped at smouldering skin, caressing his cheek with his fingers in a desperate quest to soothe the pain.
Shawn removed his hand to find his fingers stained garnet, the warm trickle of blood leaked from his nose to his digits colouring him in rivulets of repugnance.
"Memory a little clearer?" enquired John softly, sick relish wavered in his tone, "I don't believe I'm keeping your scrawny little ass above the poverty line so you can play little tricks like that"
"It wasn't –"
"Shut up" commanded John bitingly.
Shawn closed his mouth in surprise, barraged by his boss' odium for him.
"I'm not paying you to talk" he continued waspishly as he made his way across the room. Shawn turned watching him, unsure of what to do.
If he wasn't enslaved to the almighty dollar he'd tell JBL to fuck himself and board the first plane back to San Antonio.
Only he was savouring every cent, whoring for every dime he could get his hands on. He needed the money in order to maintain the lifestyle he and his family had become accustomed to over the years. Lavish living did not come cheap.
He'd thought he was being smart, had thought investment was protecting and nurturing his children's future, until the stock market crashed and burned fragmenting and destroying his world with it.
Now he was falling in the depths of disarray as he desperately clawed his way out of the turbulent seas of bankruptcy, kept afloat by degradation and subordination.
Shawn startled from his thoughts as John wafted the bills in front of his face, he managed to keep his composure; had enough dignity left not to grasp for the money that was fanned in front of his features so tauntingly.
He took it cautiously, counted it slowly, streaking the fine paper with his sullied blood.
"There's only $50 here" he announced, injustice coarse and adamant in his gruff tone.
"And?"
Shawn's sapphire orbs blazed with unfairness as took a step forward.
"You promised me $100"
"We had an agreement boy, you broke it. "
"I helped you win the match" protested Shawn
"You also slapped me in the face" growled John, "You did a half assed job, and therefore you earned half your wages"
Shawn gnawed at his lip, felt the iron clasp of dismay tighten around his beating heart. Layfield was really going to make him plead and pander for a mere fifty dollars.
"Look I really need-"he began quietly, his words barely audible through his shame at having to beg.
"What you need is none of my concern Michaels" spat John, a smirk creased his smug and greasy features, "You don't need money, you earn it!"
Shawn glanced at his laughing face, felt his blood bubble and boil with animosity. How he longed to beat the self-satisfaction from that man's face, he yearned to fling the sordid cash in his direction and leave with head held high.
Instead he found himself rooted to the spot, frozen by the necessity to provide for his family at any cost.
"What would you do for fifty bucks Shawn?"
The gloating whisper filtered through as Shawn stared at the ground, head hung low with embarrassment. The sexual innuendo crackled and seethed around him, he could smell the stale stench of whisky as John trailed a hand leisurely across his chest. It took all the willpower he could muster not to swipe the opportunistic bastard from him.
"Just think, what you could buy your sweet, little kiddies for fifty bucks" John continued to torment, brushing his lips against Shawn's earlobe. The older man cringed against the wet path of indignity left against his flaming flesh.
"How far would you go to ensure your children got to college Shawnie?"
Shawn closed his eyes, clenched his fists as Layfield struck upon his weak spot using his young children as kryptonite to his ego.
"You're awfully quiet all of a sudden, cat got your tongue?"
"You leave my children out of this" Shawn demanded, his southern twang broken and fractured with despair.
He emitted a low moan of pain as John grasped at him, literally holding him by the balls. Callously he squeezed as he leaned in close delivering his venom.
"You listen here you pathetic son of a bitch" he snarled, "You work for me do you understand? I can talk about what I want, when I want. If I say jump you ask how fucking high do you hear me?"
Shawn nodded slowly, the whine of agony escaping on a hiss as he was released.
"Knees"
Shawn doubled over, stomach churning and groin throbbing with pain. The demand overlooked in his haze of hurt.
He groaned as JBL's fist connected with his face, spluttered against the strike as his master delivered a stinging round of blows.
"Get on your fucking knees!" he barked.
Dazed Shawn felt himself forced to the ground, the room span briefly and he whimpered as he felt John yank him backwards by his hair.
He opened slits of turmoil to find his perception slanted slightly, craning his neck to his mortification he found himself staring at his boss' throbbing erection. Straddled by JBL's legs he flinched and twisted in his grip, unwilling to travel down this path of disgrace.
The rip of the zip above his head sent shivers of disgust coursing down his spine; he could feel the bile rise in his throat.
Still he resisted, knowing deep in his soul that struggle was futile. John was stronger than he and as begrudged and ruined as he was to admit it, the money splayed across the bed held a much more powerful hold over his weakened psyche.
"Don't you want to earn your check?"
The jeer floated down and he felt himself shake with scorn for himself.
He opened his mouth, gagged as the molten heat filled him coating his mouth in the vile taste of ignominy.
He imagined himself elsewhere sheathed in the security of delusion as broken breathing rained upon him, felt the tears of repugnance birth, ice cold against burning cheeks as he felt his own body betray him, responding to the grunts and pants clouding the air.
He gasped through his tears as he felt the pace intensify, sobbed as Layfield guided him by his hair, dictating his self destruction.
He heaved as JBL removed himself moments before unburdening, felt his breath hitch with the tiniest glimmer of relief, Shawn retched against his own self loathing as he crashed to the floor, tears of remorse bleeding from his eyes.
Aroused and agitated the younger man vented his fury upon the Texan, pummelling his worthless form to the ground.
Shawn wept beneath the torrent of punches, felt the fight and spirit ebb from his already wrecked and blemished frame.
His cry of dissent was low and hollow, a wounded plea for mercy as he felt his jeans yanked down, his boxers swiftly followed allowing the cold air to bite and grasp at his exposed thighs.
His protests rose to a crescendo of dread as John prised him apart, ripping his modesty in two as he roughly entered him.
Shawn gnawed at his mouth to quell the scream of torment from breaking free; he felt his lip split at the seam, drenching him in the metallic taste of his own blood.
Pain wracked his body as John rammed him into the carpet; with every thud Shawn felt the sick sense of pleasure thrive through his tormentor's frame, a trembling bulk of contentment as he gained immense gratification from the smaller man's suffering.
"Tell me you like it"
The demand was a creaking hiss of enjoyment as JBL rove above him, entering and retreating slowly increasing the burning agony tenfold.
"I-"Shawn stammered, pride and pain prevented the words from breaking free.
"SAY IT!" roared John pounding him to the ground, crushing Shawn so that his face grazed the carpet.
Shawn spluttered against the fabric, unchecked tears flowed freely down his smarting features.
"I like it" he whispered, the fractured murmur weighted in humiliation.
The grunt of appreciation did nothing to strengthen his sense of self worth; he closed his eyes, the beads of sorrow breaking once more as he felt his own arousal rise and stir, his own body divulging in the squalid act.
John clutched the elder man, claimed his erection as his own, Stroked and stirred him as he continued to batter him from above.
Disgusted by his participation Shawn sobbed, could feel his excitement mounting amongst the abhorrence and bewilderment. Scalding seed filled him as John came with a joyous shout, panting and breathless he continued his caressing, as his employer's hand moved slowly up and down his straining member Shawn thought of Rebecca, the love of his wife releasing him so that his own cum spurted to the carpet accompanied by his cry of satisfaction.
He emitted a shallow breath of relief as John withdrew, the devastating weight lifted as the younger man stood.
Shawn clawed himself upwards, flinched as the smugger man shoved dollar bills into the waistband of his half drawn boxers, his face aglow with degradation as his salary crinkled and creased against his privates. The filth coated his body as he pulled his fee from his pants.
"You earned every cent" John smirked, shoving him roughly backwards, "Now get your disgusting ass out of here and clean yourself up"
Shawn fastened his fly as fast as he could, stumbled from Layfield's hotel room dishevelled and disgraced.
With an anguished cry Shawn sank to the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs coursed through his body, the overwhelming sense of failure humiliating him.
He may have earned his family an existence, but it was robbing him of a living.
He rose, lurched back to his own room, preparing himself for the next time his master called, pulling on the strings of poverty knowing full well he'd jump through any number of hoops no matter how sordid for the sake of his wife and children.