Regulations

Chapter 3

Silva decides to let him run for a while. His men have been given orders to shoot (cut, burn, break) him on sight. Oh, not to kill him. He wasn't as cruel as his own captors had been. Just to injure him enough to halt him. Something to make running and jumping and fighting more difficult. But to truly hurt him? No. Silva has grown to love him too much. The way he clenches around his cock every night, becoming more open with each fuck. His throat takes him deeper every time and the way he gags is exquisite. He's even kind enough in that he has never made him swallow his cum, because Silva himself knows it's an acquired taste, but perhaps when he's caught, well... there's a first time for everything, isn't there? So he lets his little rabbit push past him, tells his guards to give him a minutes head start, but after those sixty seconds they were to show no mercy.

Silva sighs and looks at his watch. If he was lucky, he would have Bond kneeling at his feet by lunch time. Maybe sooner, depending on which of his men he managed to piss off the most. Miguel was a particularly volatile individual, and Rodrigo was not what one would call a saint. Perhaps he would run into Michael; Michael always had a soft spot for Silva's special guests. Michael was a very affectionate man. It's why Silva hired him in the first place. Ah well, Silva thinks to himself. There are things to do while I wait.

Silva walks over to the main computer and punches in some codes, deactivating the scrambling system he had over his island to make it accessible to MI6 and the stupid radio Bond had in his pocket when he arrived. As much fun as they were having together, he did have his true mission to think about. He needed to get back to England and Her. He needed to see Her again, like old times.

He opens up a new program and enters in more strands of letters and numbers and tries not to think about how close the two of them had been. How they had flirted. Even teamed up a time or two when he was just starting out as a double-oh. She had posed as his woman, and he had seduced her, and bedded her, and loved her more than he had even loved his own neglectful mother. Yet that apparently meant nothing to her, because here he was; abandoned and rejected, disfigured and ugly and hated. A pariah in his own right, all because his mother had not thought him important enough to save. Important enough to suck and fuck, but not important enough to forgive him of all his sins. When it would have mattered and meant the most.

Yes, Her signals would be able to come through now, and transportation would come and save James, her new child, her pride and joy. For now. If there was one thing She had taught him, it was that everyone and everything is expendable. But he would kill her, and She would never be able to harm her children ever again. He would be free. James would be free. She would be free, even if She refused to look at it as such. Silva sighs again. It would all come together, when the time was right. It would work out.

Silva hears gun shots in the near distance. They must have finally ganged up on Bond. He was the one at a disadvantage, after all. He and his men knew the island as well as rats knew the sewers below their feet. As Silva continues to type, he can't help but allow his thoughts to stray to James again. Such a pretty boy. His eyes were magnificent. Probably why She chose him. They said so much when he voiced so little. His mouth could be full of cock, yet those eyes were never silent. They told him everything. From them, he knew of the man's spirit, his pride, his strengths and weaknesses. Knew just how far he could push him without completely breaking him. It was why he never fucked him face to face, It would insult him. Even when he was sucking James off, he allowed him to keep his eyes closed. Silva never fought hum on that one. It kept Bond quiet, which Silva knew James preferred.

Silva presses "enter" and walks away from his station. There was going to be a lovely little explosion in the underground in a few days. He hopes James will be there to see it. Silva had set it up especially for him.

Oh, and speak of the devil! Here was the man of the hour now, being led in by Michael and Miguel. Well this is interesting indeed. It was always nice to see his staff working so well together. It made him very proud indeed.

They shove him to the floor and leave.

"James, James, James," Silva tuts, walking over to the man who was currently panting against the floor. He was so weak and tired. The drugs, of course, were partially responsible, but he had only administered them to allow him a rest. "You had me worried. Didn't Mommy every tell you not to run off without telling someone first? You could have gotten hurt!"

There is a deep slash up the side of his face that runs up into his hairline, but he seemed otherwise unharmed. He makes a mental note to reward Michael and Miguel later. They had actually been quite careful with his precious cargo. And bargaining chip, if need be.

"You're a mess, and that cut looks painful. Come with me. Up you go now."

Silva drags him to his feet, carefully, but with some force. Bond was decidedly heavy when prone.

"You need a bath. And some stitches. Luckily I have both in my suite. You'll follow me?"

James sways on his feet and ends up leaning heavily against Silva.

"Ah, good to see you cooperating. Let's go get you cleaned up. Soon you'll be as good as new, hm?"

James cannot help but wonder when this nightmare will end.