Thank you everyone for the reviews. I seem to be losing a few of you. Mmm, maybe people don't like brutal stories? Let me know if it's getting too tough for you...Oh, and...Happy Easter!
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Chapter 10
The opening of the door signalled the end of the dream for the prisoner, for seated behind a large desk across the other side of the new room he now stepped into, was the silver haired general. He was deep in conversation with another, dark haired man, who sat the opposite side of the table.
Both men paused as the sound of the opening door caught their attention, both heads turning in unison to look at the half naked torso of the prisoner as he hesitated, undecided, trying to make his mind up whether to try making a dash for the only other exit in the room, or to step back and slam shut the door his shaky hand was still holding onto for support.
"Are you screwing one of the new prisoners, Sephiroth?" the dark haired man inquired, an eyebrow quirking up in admiration as his gaze travelled the full length of the semi nude body of the boy.
"No Zack...not yet. I'm enjoying fucking with his mind too much, to pay attention to what his body has to offer," the general replied with a small laugh, leaning back in his chair and drinking in deeply the vision of the blond captive, standing there like stone, holding the sheet protectively in front of himself, his clenched knuckles slowly turning whiter as the firm grip increased with the boys obvious rising anger.
"Well, he certainly looks like he's made himself at home in your bedroom," the man named Zack continued. "And l do believe his face is flushed! Are you sure you haven't been partaking of his flesh?"
"I may have...touched... a few things belonging to the boy while he was unaware, but that's all," the general stated matter-of-factly, his eyes locked onto the boys, waiting for some reaction.
Now it was the turn of the dark haired man to chuckle. "So, he is as yet, still untaken? Still a virgin?" Silver brows rose in question, and Zack addressed the prisoner. "Well, are you a virgin?"
"CLOUD STRIFE... COMMAND LEADER OF GROUP 715...sir," the prisoner responded, his spine going ramrod straight as he stiffly stood to attention, his head lifting with a proud tilt, ignoring the pain that tore through his abused throat at the guttural words that he had to force out.
"That's not what he asked you." The general spoke carefully, every word crystal clear, as he pushed himself up from the desk and began to slowly advance on the linen clad boy, whose proud stance now became a little more uneasy. "He asked if you were...a virgin." The last two words were breathed out seductively in the boys ear as the general leaned down low over the prisoner, before turning away and crossing back to the desk, retaking his seat.
"Under the rules of combat, sir, I do not have to answer any questions, nor give any details other than my name and rank," the blond boy stated knowingly, his voice raspy, speaking almost as if he were reciting from memory what he had been taught, and repeating it word for word.
"Not even if I were to ask nicely?" the general teased, while the dark haired man guffawed at the comment spoken so genuinely.
The prisoner's nervous eyes darted between the two men in front of him. The general had lounged back in his chair, seemingly relaxed and at ease, whereas the dark haired man was sat forward, an arm curled around his tight stomach as he continued his laughter.
"Oh Seph," he sputtered. "You're going to kill me one day. Look at the kids face. He doesn't know if you're serious or not!"
"Zack, you of all people should know...I'm always serious," the general replied, no laughter, no humour, in his soft baritoned voice.
Sobering up, the dark haired man stood. "Well, I guess I'd better get back to work and leave you two to play." He chuckled some more as he made his way to the door, and while he waited for the general to follow him, he turned his attention back once more to the prisoner and gave a small sigh. "Just let me know when you've finished with him Seph. I wouldn't mind teaching him a few little games of my own."
"I bet you wouldn't," Sephiroth commented dryly, before placing his hand upon the door and staring into a small eyelet. "Open," he commanded, and the door silently did as it was ordered, swinging inwards and allowing the dark haired man to pass through and leave the room.
For just a second, the prisoner's quick mind saw an escape route, and his bare feet almost moved as the chance presented itself to him. But then logic kicked in, and his legs refused to move as he came to realise that he would never make it past the two men. Also, he didn't know what lay beyond the outer door. For all he knew, there could have been armed guards posted outside. If he were going to have any chance at getting away alive, he was going to have to wait and plan. It shouldn't be too hard, he thought. After all, he had made it out of the white room, hadn't he?
The door closed after the dark haired man, and the general went back to his place behind his desk, ignoring the prisoner now, pulling paperwork towards himself that was spread out over the desk.
As he picked up a quill pen and began writing, the blond boy felt at a loss as what to do. He didn't know what was expected of him, and it increased his nervousness.
Keeping one eye on the general for any sudden moves, he allowed his gaze to go around the room and slowly take in details.
The cream coloured walls in this room were filled with countless maps. Aerial maps, oceanic maps, street maps...all highly detailed, all ornately framed. Interspaced between them were fancy art deco wall lamps, the soft light coming from them enhanced by the beautiful colours of the shades. Natural daylight was provided by overhead windows, placed far up into the high ceiling. Gazing upward, the prisoner guessed it was early evening by the greyness of the sky.
One wall of this room was devoted to nothing else but file cabinets. Stood in an orderly fashion, and with the contents of each one specifically marked out in large hand printed letters, the grey steel containers seemed to loom large in the room.
Aside from the two doors, the one he was stood in, and the other leading to the outside, the prisoner noted that the only other thing of interest in the room was the ceiling to floor length plain tan curtains that stretched across the entire length of one wall. They were pulled shut, obscuring what was hidden behind.
Feeling brave at being ignored, the boy turned towards them, and took a step forward.
"Come and take a seat."
The prisoner froze, his eyes darting around to face the general, who still had his silver head bowed over his paperwork, the pen still scratching and moving.
Drawing deep breaths, the boy took a step backwards, returning to his original spot by the door.
"I said...SIT!"
This time, the prisoner did as he was told, taking the seat vacated earlier by the dark haired man, the impatient tone in the generals voice and the slamming down of the pen, making him move more quickly than he would have liked.
As he lowered himself down into the chair, he made sure that the sheet was still wrapped firmly around his lower half, tucking in the loose ends until his long, lean legs were covered and out of sight.
With a determined stance on his face, he lifted his head up, mentally preparing himself for what he assumed would be the beginning of a long interrogation. He was determined to repeat the same phrase he had used before, over and over again if necessary. No matter what the silver haired general said to him, he would reveal nothing more than his name and rank.
He watched, his eyes weary, his muscles tensed, as the general stood up and walked behind him. It took all the prisoners willpower to keep his face forward, to not let his tormentor see that he was concerned about what was happening behind his back.
With an abrupt suddenness that caught his breath, the prisoner felt the top of his hair taken hold off, and roughly pulled back, exposing his tender neck, hurting the already aching tendons in his throat.
The general leered down at him, staring with a cruel smile into the prisoners startled blue eyes.
For an insane moment, the blond captive thought that the man had gone mad, and intended to slit his throat. His fingers gripped the arm of the chair, his mind still prepared for the acceptance of death. He closed his eyes. To accept death was one thing...but to see its approach was another.
A warm breath against his closed eyes, and the softest of touches on his lips, alerted the prisoner to the fact that the general had no intention of killing him the way he had thought. With a small cry, the blond boy's lids flew open, his body jerking back and away from the light kiss the general had bestowed upon him.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
The prisoner raised a hand to his mouth, and scrubbed the kiss away.
Sephiroth was amused at the boy's attitude. It showed on his chiselled features. The corners of both his eyes and his lips were curled upwards, in a semblance of a smile. He gazed down at the prisoner, watching the way the boy's chest was heaving up and down as he tried to control his breathing, staring at the exposed soft pink nipples that screamed at him to bite them. He didn't see why he should deny himself the pleasure.
Keeping a firm hold of the prisoner's hair in his hand, the general walked around the seated boy, enjoying seeing his pretty face wince in pain as his spiky locks were twisted in his grip. Reaching the front, he lifted one strong, firm leg and placed it across the boys, straddling him and setting himself down in the captives lap. When the youth opened his mouth to make a protest, Sephiroth tightened the grip on his hair even more, shaking the blond head harshly.
"Don't...even think about telling me to get off," he warned, cupping the boys chin with his free hand, digging his fingers and thumb into the soft flesh either side of the jaw, forcing the prisoners mouth to slightly open.
Disregarding the low anguished mews the boy was making, and the way his imprisoned face tried to turn away from him, the general continued to press until he was satisfied that the mouth was open wide enough. Then, he slowly lowered his head, his tongue sliding out and licking across the prisoners lips, before snaking its way into the warm moist cavern behind.
As soon as the prisoner felt the cruel grip of the general loosen a little, and with no thought as to the consequences of what his action would bring upon him, he quickly drew back his head as far as he could, tearing his mouth away from the questing tongue...and slammed his forehead hard into the generals nose.