Thanks to all for reading and following. I appreciate it and I treasure every review.

This one got a bit out of hand.

So rated M for intensely dark sexual acts and angst.


GLITTER.

Glitter.

Riki was wearing glitter... And pretty much nothing else.

Unless you counted a flesh-colored thong and purple eyeshadow, which Katze didn't. Hair teased into a stiff mess of spikes, Riki shimmered intriguingly in the street light.

Katze blinked, eyeing him in the rearview mirror.

Glitter.

Riki's lips pouted, and Katze wondered if, maybe, he was wearing lipgloss too. Riki's mouth didn't normally look so soft and... kissable, did it?

You owe me.

Riki silently mouthed the words, settling into the back seat.

Ah. Glitter made sense now.

Riki was wearing glitter to a public outing because he was sucking up to Iason. He was on his best behavior to beg for a favor later.

A favor named Katze.

Katze waited for Iason's nod before lifting the air-car with a dull hum. Smoothly merging into the busy traffic, Katze pondered what little information he had on tonight's soirée.

It was a cultural event, an alien artist who was offering an exclusive performance. A unique experience for a select few Blondies. What, exactly, the man actually did was very hush hush. From the rumors, Katze gathered that the alien was a "rope artist." How the vague defination might translate, in terms of art, Katze did not know. He had never pretended to understand "Art"; he was a lowly gangster and such concepts were not his to evaluate.

The lights of Midas flicked over Riki's profile, an intriguing wash of color that changed the angles of his face. A streak of yellow and he looked harsher; all sharp chin, stubborn and rebellious. A dreamy turquoise glow as the car idled in traffic and he appeared softer, younger; almost angelic with his long eyelashes and pouty lips.

Iason watched with interest as his Pet ignored him, staring out the window.

Beautiful.

Iason enjoyed Riki's face immensely, especially expertly made-up by Cal. His eyes were sultry, dark and mysterious. His high cheek-bones winked with glitter and his hair was worked into a sculpted mess that rose straight up, highlighting his smooth forehead. Riki reminded him of a feline of some sort, all slanted eyes and expressive eyebrows.

Surely none of the other Blondies could argue that the raw, naturally-bred features weren't fascinating when compared to the bland tank-bred Pets?

...

Katze had expected to wait, smoking in the car, but Iason motioned for him to follow them into the venue. Digging his hands into the pockets of his trench coat, Katze assumed body-guard mode, trailing silently after Iason and Riki.

As expected, their arrival turned a few heads.

Iason was strikingly beautiful, long hair trailing and the broad-shouldered silhouette of his red jacket plunging to a trim waist. His perfect face was cold, and his dress shoes clacked on the polished floor. A glamorized Riki, dark and sullen, followed obediently at his right heel.

Katze wondered what kind of impression HE made, with his wrinkled coat and pale face.

Katze could only guess at Iason's motives for requesting his presence. There did not seem to be much danger here; the First One hardly needed a bodyguard anyway.

Scanning the area, Katze saw nothing suspicious; they were in a posh art gallery, all white walls and tall wooden beams. A few Blondies stood in twos or threes, champagne flutes in hand. On raised circular platforms, Katze glimpsed the Pets who were part of the exposition.

Rope artist.

Katze understood now.

The Show Pets were placed into bondage and yes, even Katze could see the visual appeal. As he followed Iason's brisk strides, he noted a lovely slim girl, wrapped in pink silk ribbon. Her small nipples seemed to call, highlighted obscenely by the criss-crossing straps. A muscular black man was strung, spread-eagled and suspended, low moans echoing from behind his leather hood. A mass of limbs, two or maybe three Pets, were bowed on the floor, intricately looped together. A Blondie trailed the point of his cane lightly down the cleft of an offered ass.

It was appallingly decadent and yet somehow tasteful, every exhibit clearly thought out to highlight the best of each Pet.

It was Art.

Katze's lips turned up at his silent critique; who was he to approve, he was just Iason's personal servant!

Furniture reverently led the First One to a secluded alcove. A square cream-colored armchair faced one of the circular platforms, empty at the moment.

Iason was seated and served refreshments while Riki pouted at the floor. Katze took his place behind the armchair, automatically scanning the surroundings for potential danger.

The Artist proved to be an interesting creature. It was humanoid, but clearly not human. Not even close to the perfect human likeness of Blondies.

He, Katze was pretty sure it was a he, was too tall and too thin to pass as human. It towered at least a foot over Iason, his limbs proportionately too long for his frail torso. His features were sharp, dominated by large purple eyes with eyelids that blinked disturbingly from the side. Rows of jagged pointy teeth glinted behind thin lips and he had too many fingers that bent in ways no human's could.

Katze stiffened, focused and alert, but the Artist didn't appear threatening. It bowed fitfully, exuding nervous energy and speaking with a slithery hissing accent.

"Yessss. Yessss. Massster Iasssson. It is my pleasure, my pleasure."

The Artist moved toward the platform with eery grace, motioning Riki forward.

" What have you brought for thissssss one tonight? Yesssss. Yesssss. Come forward, here. Here. Up now."

It made a snapping sound, and Riki obeyed, stepping gracefully onto the dais. The lights dimmed, a golden spotlight finding Riki.

And damn, Katze fully appreciated the extravagant make-up now. Riki shone like a true model, supernaturally HOT.

"oh. Pretty. Yesss, exssssellent choissssse."

The Artist circled him, nodding in darting motions and inspecting Riki.

"Sssstrong. Hmmmm. Lovely. Sssssssimple."

A pale hand reached out to touch the rounded globe of Riki's ass.

Riki jolted, his head rising to stare angrily at Iason, but he did not protest. He was still on best behavior, so the Artist was not punched in the face; this was a good thing, Katze decided.

Iason hummed in displeasure at Riki's show of temper, and his Pet responded by instinctively widening his stance, straightening his back and raising his chin defiantly.

The Artist cooed in delight, rubbing his many-jointed fingers together.

"Hmmmm. Yesssss. Jussssst like that. Perfect. No moving now." Riki's eyes narrowed in uncertainety but he did as he was told, holding the pose.

The Artist made that popping noise again, imperiously instructing the assistant that appeared.

"Black. Sssssoo dark. Sssso angry. Black. For ssssure. Black is needed."

It dug through the box produced, discarding black silk ribbon and thin grey cord.

"Yesssss." The Artist hissed in pleasure, dragging a strong black rope through his hands and clutching it, pulling tight and testing the slight give.

At his motion, the platform Riki was on rotated, affording Iason and Katze the view of his muscular backside. The thin fabric of the flesh-colored thong blended into the skin of his hips, giving the impression he was naked.

"Let ussss begin!" The Artist bowed once more to Iason, before turning to Riki. It was so tall it did not need to step onto the stage to easily reach Riki's arms and tug them behind his back.

A hush grew, like a bubble of anticipation, as It set to work; slowly wrapping a doubled strand of rope around Riki's wrists.

Riki shuddered at the kiss of twisted fabric, fists clenching.

Iason carelessly handed his half-full glass to Furniture, leaning back to enjoy the show.

The binding of Riki was mesmerizing to watch, done in complete silence. The midnight rope was carefully coiled around both wrists, tied with a solid knot. Riki's arms tightened at the restraint, not really trying to pull free but not sinking into it either.

The Artist motioned and followed the platform as it slowly rotated again, giving his audience a look at Riki's stormy expression.

Iason hissed a sharp little breath that only Katze heard at the sight of his Pet wavering between resistance and submission.

There was pleasure in the rope, at least there was potential for pleasure. In being supported, helpless; in giving in to the strength holding him. But there was also loss of power, loss of composure and Riki hated that. He had given his word that he would obey, and he was, but barely.

Warring with himself, Riki stared into the shadows, refusing to look into his Master's eyes and let Iason see his vulnerabilty.

Let go, Katze longed to whisper.

As the platform continued to turn, Iason caught a last glimpse of Riki biting his lip.

It woke the predator in him, the urge to break and take raging within. Iason carefully composed his face into blank contemplation, hoping the hunger in his eyes was not obvious to all. There was nothing he would do about his hardening cock, not here. He refused to even stoop to adjusting himself, reclining casually in his seat and feigning nonchalance.

The Artist took his time, carefully placing the rope in perfectly spaced loops up Riki's arms. An intricate knot of some sort seperated each subsequent coil, creating a lovely pattern of stark darkness over tan skin. Every loop was expertly tested, just enough tension for Riki to feel the pull in his shoulders yet not so tight as to cut off circulation.

The rope made a soft shhllick sound as it pulled through the knots, giving Katze goosebumps. Riki slowly settled into it, head bowing heavy and tension leaving his back.

Katze realized that while Riki was growing more serene with every added coil, the opposite was true for his Master. Iason's calm countenance was strained, and Katze clenched his fists in his coat pockets in sympathy.

How Iason wished the Artist would go faster!

The Blondie took pleasure in the tortuously slow process, but the beast in him roared for him to grab Riki and pound him hard. Fuck.

Shaking the bangs from his eyes, Iason forced himself to patience.

He had used bondage during Riki's training, of course he had. But it had been a means to an end, not so much a sexual act in itself for him.

It was a sexual act right now, undoubtedly.

The build-up, the visual impact of seeing his Pet appear so beautiful, the striking contrast pattern of the thick rope casting shadows over Riki's smooth skin...

Iason quietly ached, imperious facade hiding his struggle for control over frustratingly powerful primitive impulses.

Finally, the laced rope reached high up Riki's arms, over his elbows and about halfway to his shoulders.

The Artist pulled and twisted the final knot with a flourish, tucking the long trailing ends behind Riki's bound arms. The rope fell, smooth and heavy, brushing his ass and just barely reaching the floor.

A few last adjustements, careful symetry precisely arranged, and the Artist stepped back.

With a deep bow, the Alien let Iason enjoy his Pet.

Katze could hardly breathe, chest tight with desire at the sight of Riki, pliant and bound.

Strong muscles were highlighted by the golden light, and even more so by the rope. Katze wanted to feel them tremble with his hand, yearned to lick dark skin where it indented and feel the texture of the rope on his tongue.

When the stage had turned him to face them, Katze saw that Riki's expression was slightly dazed. Lips slack and pupils blown, he looked deliciously debauched.

Subspace.

Riki was floating, and with not a touch of pain to force him under.

Beautiful.

Hot, so fucking perfect.

Iason smothered an irrational surge of jealousy that someone was capable of affecting HIS Pet so easily, and instead inclined his head regally.

"Well done. Your reputation is well deserved." Iason's voice was exquisitely polite but Katze startled at the unusually gravelly tone. Fuck, but Iason was affected by tonight.

The Artist seemed pleased, at least it bared it's sharp teeth in what was probably a smile and bobbed again.

"Thank you, your Graccccce, thank you."

Iason smiled elegantly before asking "Might I enjoy him a bit like this? It seems like a waste of a golden opportunity to simply untie him."

The Alien did not seem surprised, motionning again and letting loose a series of hisses and clicks that were most definately not human.

A shimmer appeared like a wall around them. Katze had never seen anything like it. The alien technology created ripples in mid-air, shielding them from prying eyes.

Iason did not seem moved by the marvel of a freaking wall just appearing from nowhere.

He lounged in his chair, motioning nonchalantly with white-gloved fingers.

"Perhaps the undergarment might be removed?" he inquired.

The Artist moved forward, and a lot happened in the next seconds.

A large claw suddenly rushed from the base of his thumb, nasty and sharp.

Almost instantly, a small green light appeared on it's chest. The Alien licked a forked tongue over it's lips, holding perfectly motionless.

Katze's coat still flared from the sudden motion of drawing his laser gun.

"Be at easssse, Warrior." The Alien carefully moved his clawed hand so that Katze could see it better. "This one jusssst wantsssss to please your Masssster."

Katze did not move, keeping the green dot centered on his target.

Iason waited a tense minute more than was polite, sending a subtle message to the Alien. Finally he lazily instructed Katze to step down.

The Alien nodded respectfully at Katze, before reaching up and cutting through the side of Riki's thong with the deadly claw

Keeping a wary eye on the creature until it had retreated back to the corner of their enclosure farthest from Iason, Katze finally returned his attention to Riki.

Surprisingly, the mongrel had barely reacted to the confrontation; his face was still relaxed and he simply waited for orders.

The ring at the base of his soft cock caught the light, a bright flash of quicksilver.

Everyone's attention turned to Iason as he carefully removed one glove, baring the identical ring on his finger.

Riki tensed, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The initial buzz of pleasure was quite pleasant, warmth seeping slowly throughout his groin.

As his cock began to grow, Riki twitched in his bonds, instinctively wanting to get a hand on it.

Fuck.

Riki hung his head, quietly letting desire build.

Iason sat straight and stifled by the high rounded collar of his dress shirt, observing his Pet intensely. He twisted the ring a bit, increasing the strength of the throbbing in Riki's dick.

He was rewarded by a flush of color creeping down his Pet's chest, by plump lips dropping open on panted breaths.

Beautiful.

Iason savored the spectacle for several minutes, until Riki's abs flexed and he pulled at the rope binding his arms again. Constricting the dark pupil in his ring a bit more made Riki twist with a strangled moan.

His hips pumped minutely, cock flexing red and angry.

Riki's eyes were screwed shut and he was fighting the restraints with more force, shoulders twisting. The black rope was strong, not giving at all.

Less than a minute later, Iason increased the pleasure again.

With a ragged shout, Riki curled over, falling to his knees.

Iason frowned, decreasing the intensity. He called Riki's name three times before the Pet focused his gaze on him, dark eyes burning and jaw clenched.

"Riki. Up." Iason commanded.

Riki moved awkwardly with his bound hands, but he eventually managed to stand again. However as soon as Iason upped the intensity again, he dropped to his knees, panting.

Iason shook his head, blond hair swishing.

"This won't do. Katze, get over there and hold him up. I wish to see."

Katze stood frozen, staring at his Master. Go up there? What?

Iason made a lazy shooing motion and Katze shuffled forward a step or two.

"Remove the coat. It is distracting."

Iason's tone was nonchalant. It did not hint at hidden sexual plans. However Katze hesitated to follow the order. In fact, he hesitated long enough for Iason to frown forbiddingly.

With a sigh, the red-head obeyed. Joining Riki on the stage, Katze felt both under and over dressed. Without his voluminous coat, Katze knew that his slim silhouette wasn't impressive. Clad in black from head to toe, Katze swallowed hard with the rush of self-consciousness. Which was quite ridiculous actually; his black cashmere turtleneck and dress pants might hug his body but in no way was he as exposed as Riki.

His cheeks burned anyway, especially when Iason raised an eyebrow at his worn black combat boots, sticking out from under impeccably pressed slacks.

Grabbing the rope just above the knot at the top of Riki's biceps, Katze hauled the smaller mongrel to his feet. Up close, he could tell that Riki was more undone than he appeared from the armchair. He was shaking, and his breath rasped. The smell of his sweat made Katze want to taste it with his tongue.

Blinded by the spotlight, Katze couldn't see Iason anymore. His world reduced itself to Riki.

The sounds of Riki, the movements of Riki. Not much the sight of Riki, Katze was behind him and too close; he couldn't evaluate Riki's arousal by his cock.

He did, however, become totally absorbed by the other man's every reaction.

When Iason increased the pleasure again, it became physical for Katze too. He wrangled Riki's spasming body as best he could.

At first the Pet fought him, trying to curl over. Katze flipped the rope an extra turn around his hand for a better grip and hauled him back up. Katze's arms bulged and he widened his stance, annoyed. If they didn't find a way to make this work, they were going to face-plant.

Fuck.

Thank God Riki adjusted to his presence and when he did, damn was it hot!

Instead of trying to twist away, Riki melted onto Katze. Laying his head back onto the red-head's shoulder, he arched into him rather than away from him. Riki allowed Katze to support him, pliant and whimpering when his knees buckled again. The headrush of power, even second-hand, had Katze exhaling hard through his nose.

Iason did not decrease the intensity again, and Riki moved restlessly. He rolled his head sideways, groaning. His fingers clenched and unclenched spastically in the rope bindings, teasingly brushing the inside of Katze's thigh. Katze didn't think Riki was aware of this though.

Consumed by pleasure, he writhed and spasmed. Unless it was pain? Katze couldn't tell.

Riki suddenly gave a ragged shout and launched himself forward.

Katze grunted, sliding his other arm behind Riki's bound arms and pulling him forcibly back when tugging on the rope was not enough.

Riki flailed, sounds just pouring from him now. Moaning, he kept twisting up onto the tiptoes of one leg, bending his other knee high and trying to cross it over his thigh in a failed protective gesture.

Squirming, he fell apart in Katze's arms.

The picture they made together pleased Iason immensely; his beautiful naked Pet shadowed by the dark-clad wiry mongrel... Hmmmm... Iason licked his lips and prolonged the show , alternating high levels of pain and pleasure even if he could tell that he was pushing Riki passed his limit.

Fascinating.

More, Iason needed more.

Katze bit his lip, feeling the wetness of tears against his neck as Riki grew heavier in his arms. The Pet was slippery with sweat and shuddering; Katze was beginning to worry. Riki sagged against Katze, whining continuously, his quivering body giving out.

Fuck.

Katze braced himself, straining to hold them both up.

In a last violent fitful move, Riki arched. His back bent backward and his every muscle seized, it seemed to Katze. As Riki jerked silently against him, Katze realized the sudden startling quiet was because Riki wasn't...

"Breathe, Riki." He urged. Then louder, when he got no reaction. "Breathe."

And, thank God, Riki did.

A great gasping inhale before he went completely limp. Katze couldn't do much then except accompany him in a barely controlled fall.

Carefully untangling himself from Riki, Katze tried to slow his racing heart. He was hot and sweaty from physical exertion and arousal, his turtleneck itchy and clinging to his back.

He backed away slowly, making room for Iason and the Artist who were converging on Riki.

Riki's foot swung out slowly and blocked his way.

Katze stopped and looked back reluctantly, insides still in turmoil from his involvement in the intense scene. He shouldn't have enjoyed it, it was wrong to enjoy seeing Riki broken and Katze fucking needed a cigarette to clear his head.

He could almost convince himself that he wasn't aroused except years of self-knowledge urged him to recognize that it was only because he couldn't get hard physically. He was not cruel Iason, not a sadistic Blondie, he wasn't he wasn't he wasn't! Nausea threatened again, and Katze forced himself to breathe slowly through his nose.

Katze's unease spiked at the sight of Riki, reduced to a disheveled heap. His beautiful face was marred, make-up running in dark tear-tracks and glitter smeared. He was shaking helplessly, and Katze tried not to notice the cum running down his thighs.

Riki looked completely out of it, yet his dilated pupils lifted to a stricken Katze's face.

His words were near silent, but they cut Katze to the core.

-I-

-hate-

-you-

Riki's puffy eyelids sank shut and the gangly Artist blocked Katze's view as he began cutting the rope from him.

Katze's ears buzzed as he went through the motions of shrugging back into his coat.

Fuck. He'd forgotten that Riki had submitted to tonight so that Katze would be allowed a second chance to join them.

Katze clenched his jaw, feeling the familiar roil of disgust and self-loathing and violent hatred for Iason cramp in his belly. His fingers traced repetively over his scar; soothing, banking the emotions for later.

Shoulders hunched, Katze followed Iason as the tall Blondie marched through the gallery with Riki a diminutive naked form scooped in his arms. Hair flaring behind him, Iason appeared impeccable in his starched red jacket.

Only Katze saw the cold blue ice in his glare, control so close to fracturing.

Only Katze... And Riki.


Things get worse before they get better. The next chapter is short and intensely disturbing. Heed the warnings.