(Eight)
Creed said nothing as he climbed back into the car and they sped off again. They drove for a long time before they pulled up to a hotel outside of the City. He and Kimble waited in the car while Mary went into the lobby and made all of the arrangements. When she returned, Creed dragged the pilot out of the car and shoved him into their cramped and tiny room. He tossed Kimble into the bathroom and ordered him to sleep in the bathtub. Victor was so angry, he didn't want Kimble in the same room as him. He clicked on the TV and opened a bottle of whiskey he brought in from the limo.
Hours later, cold and shivering in the tub, Kimble heard Sabretooth snoring and then start to growl as he began to dream. Kimble snuck out, careful not to make any noise and looked at his Master. Sabretooth was undressed and sprawled out across the bed, the bottle now empty. He twitched and snorted as he dreamed, holding his huge clawed hands out in front of him defensively. "Nno...Poppa, I won't do it no more, please..." he breathed in a voice that sounded so small and fragile.
Kimble bowed his head with renewed shame. When Kimble had first come to the penthouse, Creed dreamed like this every night. The longer he was there, the fewer nightmares his Master had. Now that Creed had gotten so upset, he was dreaming again. Kimble had hurt him, this was all his fault.
Sabretooth jerked with a snarl and woke suddenly, gasping. He groaned and wiped at his face, almost crying. He sniffed, regaining his sense of order after a moment, and clicked on the light. He saw Kimble crouched low by his side now and turned away, snatching for his cigarettes. He sat up, laying his feet down on the other side of the bed, turning his back to Kimble. "Git back in yer room, Kim."
Kimble was torn. He could obey or he could try and fix this. He cautiously approached his Master and crawled up onto the bed. He was nervous and ready to bolt at any sign of violence, but Victor just sat there, his head down as he smoked.
Creed felt him come and the surge of anger that followed. He just knew Kimble was going to beg and plead and that was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. He startled a little when he felt Kimble gently lay his hands on his shoulders and start to skillfully knead away the knots there in his muscles. Kimble leaned in close to his ear and started to whisper, not pleas for forgiveness, but a joke.
"What's so great about fuckin' homeless girls?"
Creed grunted.
"When yer done with 'em you kin drop 'em off anawheres."
The Master didn't laugh, he sat quiet.
Kimble tried another. "What's the diff'rence 'tween a bitch an' a whore?"
Creed grunted again, but he was smiling now, anticipating the answer. He was a fool for a dirty joke and was privately pleased that Kimble was doing this to cheer him. Once more Kimble had moved beyond his expectations.
Kimble didn't wait for the Master to guess, he said, "A whore sleeps with evrabody at the party, an' a bitch sleeps with evraone at the party 'cept you."
Creed shook his head, laughing softly.
"What's the diff'rence ' tween love, true love an' showin' off?"
"What?" the Master asked, lured in.
"Spittin', swallowin', an' garglin'."
Victor snickered. "Got that right."
"Man tells his wife, 'You gots three choices. You kin goes huntin' with me, give me a blow job, or let me fuck you in the ass.' Wife says, 'I don' feel like no huntin' an I ain't gonna letcha fuck me in the ass, sos I guess I'll just gives ya a blow job.'. She goes down on the guy and makes a face. 'Yer cock tastes like shit!'. The guy jus' laughs. He says, 'Yeah, the dog didn' wanna go huntin' neither!' "
Kimble smiled when he heard Sabretooth laugh for real this time. He was happy now. Creed's vibrations had changed, he was no longer upset by the dream or anything else. He was relaxed and Kimble continued to tell him jokes as he kneaded away at Victor's shoulders.
"Kristalay...?" Kimble whispered after a few more jokes. It was Siskan for Golden Hair.
Creed didn't know what it meant, but he liked the sound of it. Kimble had said it almost like a kiss. "Whatcha want, kid?"
"You okay now? I'm sorry I made ya all mad an' dreamin'."
Creed put his head down and tensed up again. He should have known Kimble wouldn't be able to let it go. Fine then. He casually reached down to his pants on the floor and slid the thick leather belt from the loops.
Kimble cringed and backed up, whining softly. Oh, this was going to be bad.
"What ya done...well, it hurt me real bad," Creed said, a strange icy coldness in his voice. "When I was bad, my Poppa useta punish me good...let me know that what I done wasn't gonna happen again... ever."
Oh, I don' think so! Zander howled from within the confines of Kimble's mind. I don' care what you an' 'Shay is thinkin' a good ol' time is! This ain't happenin'!
"Master...please!" Kimble whined, trembling instantly."Ya hit me so bad already!"
It's what we deserve! Lakotashay said, unable to hide her glee. She was thrilled by the opportunity to see Kimble punished.
Sabretooth continued to advance. "I beat ya b'fore, but ya still disobey. Looks ta me like maybe you need a better incentive. You said you was sorry...Prove it. Get undressed and lay down."
"M-Master!"
"I won't ask you again."
Kimble slowly undressed, fighting with his clothes and stalling. He was hoping the Master would change his mind, but it didn't happen. He lay down on the bed, spreading himself flat on his belly. He was unable to stop his trembling or the tears that flowed from his eyes. "I hates you, Zander!" he whimpered softly, covering his mouth. "This is all yer fault!"
"Be quiet!" Sabretooth barked.
Kimble cringed and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.
"You even make one sound, I'll cut you open wide."
Creed folded the leather in his hands, Kimble could hear the rasp of it as it slid through the man's thick, calloused fingers. He started out on Kimble's legs, whipping him only just a little. Kimble did his best to be quiet, but the pain was incredible. He squealed and Victor whacked him harder, cutting him across his back. Grey gel seeped from the wound and dribbled down his sides. Kimble buried his face in the pillows and cried silently, having learned his lesson quickly. Creed spread out the blows, letting Kimble worry when the next one would fall. Kimble twitched and quivered as the real battle was waged inside the bright white circle of his mind.
I cain't believe yer sittin' fer this. What a soft little pussy you are! Zander growled, pacing in as much of the circle of light as his chains would allow. You can kick his ass and you knows it!
Shuts up! This's all yer fault! Kimble bawled. I hates you!
I didn' make ya do nuthin' ya didn' want!, the Punisher returned, but couldn't hide a undertone of guilt.
We deserve this for hurtin' the Master! Lakotashay shouted at Zander and tossed another piece of her sign at him. It seemed as though it regenerated itself. She never appeared to run out of ammunition. She turned to Kimble, her enjoyment and arousal from this obvious. This was all she cared about and wasn't the least bit upset by the turn of events. Think about how great the sex will be after, Lover.
Kimble groaned and Creed hit him hard again. The blast of pain rocked him and robbed him of his breath. He felt the weight of his Master sink into the mattress as he came close and breathed in Kimble's ear. "Are ya done, boy? I can do this all night."
Kimble opened his mouth to speak, to plead for mercy, but 'Shay beat him to it. "No, Master," she purred through Kimble's tears as she rudely took the helm. This was pain she desired and it was going to be hers. He was too weak to resist her. "Jus' a little more...please."
Creed laughed and the vibration of his pleasure came into Lakotashay strong and bright. She shivered and grunted as her lower body seemed to have a will of its own. Her arousal was running away with itself. The pain was immense, but so was her passion. This in spite of the raw stinging of her backside. Sabretooth did an odd thing then. He reached below and touched her there. He never touched Kimble there. It was more than she could stand.
Lakotashay bucked and moaned, roused even further. "Master!"
Creed tossed the belt, seeing Lakotashay had reached her end. He pounced on the bed and smashed her head down into the pillows, mounting her without preamble. He wasn't there long before she lost control and shook as her body exploded in ecstacy. Victor wasn't far behind, his own climax just as violent, showering Lakotashay with a burst of joy. She couldn't help but shake all over again. She laughed and laughed and then retreated, letting Kimble clean up, letting him feel the agony of his flayed skin.
Kimble lay gasping and shivering, his mind gone. All there was around him now was a bright shimmering light. At the moment of climax, when their pleasure had been blended with the worst sort of pain, a strange fluttering thought had briefly flashed through Kimble's poor tattered mind. It came with Kimble's pain, it came with a sudden burst of hatred - I wish the Master wuz dead fer doin' this ta me!
The thought had gone no further than that when a bomb had gone off inside his mind. Deep inside the Black Room, even Zander was reeling now. There was a flash of bright, a blue bolt of lighting fired off inside the Black Room and the body gave a violent tremor. When he next opened his eyes, Zander groaned as he saw they were no longer alone. A new set of chains glimmered in the circle of light.
Zander had seen this before, oh yes. It happened the day Valentin had crushed Kimble's hand, the day Kimble had killed those men on Station Nine. Zander himself had been created the day Sheyman died. Like this new one, he hadn't come out to take over the body, but he had come awake inside, birthed by Young Kimble's rage and resentment when she discovered she was just a possession to be passed around, when she learned she had no rights. Zartak's rough treatment hadn't helped, nor had their pathetic existence on Nine.
Lakotashay had come into being that last fateful day on Nine. Yes, the body was called Zander then and the Punisher had gained some strength from all the training files, but it was Kimble still running the show. The Lover clearly couldn't handle it. Kimble had wished for death with all of his heart and 'Shay had come kicking and screaming into her chains as the body choked on Valentin's pain and vibrations of loathing. Remy's experience of Kimble's files were visual only really, he couldn't see inside Kimble deeply enough to fully understand how badly his friend had shattered on that day. He had never been to Kimble's personal Black Room, no one had. The Punisher had been living there, however, and saw the shattering when Lakotashay had come screaming into existence. Now he was seeing it again.
The new set of chains shimmered and grew more solid as Kimble thrashed in pain out in the real world. The chains weren't empty. A tiny child was there, wrapped in a fuzzy brown blanket. He was very young, about three or four years in age, a tiny pilot child. He shivered and wrapped up tight, covering his whole body until only his face could be seen. "We done a bad thing..." this new one whispered softly in Siskan. He hadn't spoken out loud in the real world, he wasn't quite strong enough yet, but Zander knew it was only a matter of time.
"Kimble, please..." Zander called out in protest to this new shattering, willing the Lover to be stronger than this, but Kimble was beyond his reach.
Kimble had never felt pain on this level and was going into shock, something that was happening to him with alarming regularity. Coupled with the savage beating he had been given back at the penthouse, he had nearly reached his end. His earlier rage and unspoken wish was gone, all that remained was his pain. He wheezed and shivered as his hands strayed to cup his ears. His eyes clamped shut tight. It didn't stop his tears from pouring down his cheeks.
I told you it would be good, Lakotashay whispered, not realizing or caring about Kimble's plight. She was cold and selfish, happy now that she had gotten what she wanted. She paid no mind to the new arrival, she didn't fully understand what it meant. She cared nothing about Kimble's further shattering, if anything it helped her cause. The less control the other two had, the more likely she could end this for all of them.
Kimble sobbed, trying keep it as quiet as possible. He didn't dare raise his Master's ire again. He was insane, there was no other explanation for this. He had gone all the way over for sure. There was no coming back from this. He was out in the body and didn't see what had happened within. All he knew was that he was now hopelessly ruined, no good for anything decent anymore. What would Sheyman think of him now? The thought filled him with loathing.
"H-help me!" he sobbed, not sure who he was even speaking to.
"There ain't no one here but me," Victor grumbled, pulling the pillows away so Kimble could breathe a little better. Kimble's hair had spread out in a beautiful tangle and Creed pulled it back from his face. He gently turned Kimble over and looked into his eyes. The pilot's pupils were huge from shock, his body was starting to shut down, but Creed mistook it for bliss. "There ain't never gonna be no one else but me."
"Y-yes...Master," Kimble wheezed, knowing it was true in spite of his present agony. There would never be another because he would never be worthy of anyone else. He was Siskan trash, garbage, fit only for the monster who held him now. It was still better than being alone and the constant use would soothe him, he tried to console himself. His body was on fire now, the movement pulling on his injuries. His back and legs were scored with dozens of angry red welts. Stars sparkled in front of his eyes and he tried desperately not to pass out. Creed was not an expert at sadomasochism, he hadn't been gentle. "D-don' wan' nobody else...Don' make me go 'way... please..." Kimble continued to plead. He was wrecked. The only thing worse than this would be to be tossed aside again.
Sabretooth brushed his cheek with a clawed finger, wiping Kimble's tears away. "You gonna ever use a phone again?" he asked, his voice quiet.
The pilot shuddered with fear. If he could have, he would have pissed himself in terror. He would never survive a beating like that again. "N-no, Master!"
"We done a bad thing..." the small child whispered again from within, still unheard from the one at the helm, but not by Zander who growled with impatience. This truly sucked. How much more damage would they suffer before he managed to get them home again?
"All right, then," Sabretooth growled happily and gave Kimble a rough caress with a heavy clawed hand.
Kimble's spirit soared in spite of his pain. He had been forgiven! Everything was going to be good again, just like it was. He had earned his freedom! He laughed as grateful tears poured from his eyes.
Sabretooth watched this, that pained perplexed look back on his face. Kimble was a mystery to him, something he would never understand. No matter how hard he pushed him away, consciously or not with the abuse, this one stayed. No, he even asked for more. Creed just didn't get it. The only answer had to be that on some sick level, Kimble was in love with him, with this. He wasn't sure how to feel about it, but didn't fight the flush of happiness that came to him. Someone wanted him...someone actually loved him. A freak for a monster. In an insane world, it almost made sense. He left the pilot there on the bed and picked up the phone, dialing Mary's number.
Mary came into Creed's hotel room without knocking. She entered and looked around. Sabretooth was seated at the tiny table, his feet up onto the bed and the remote for the TV out in front of him. He had used a claw to carve it from the night stand. He was dressed now in his pants, the belt neatly back in place. She smiled at him, always impressed by his powerful presence.
She looked past him to the bed and frowned. Kimble was there, naked and sprawled out on his belly, dozing uncomfortably. His body was covered in angry red welts, some of them seeping grey gel. He twitched and moaned, in too much pain for it not to show. Tears still streamed from his eyes.
"Someday you're going to break him," she admonished, trying to keep her voice level. She knew Creed had been in a mood.
"That's why I keep you around," Creed purred, his face the picture of contentment. His eyes were half lidded and dreamy. He'd finished with Kimble only a few minutes before and had showered. He was still high.
Mary eased over to the bed and gently brushed some of Kimble's hair back. "Hey, baby. You awake?"
Kimble's eyes fluttered open and his face crinkled as the pain came back, full strength. He whimpered and clutched at her, demanding release from his misery. She had seen this so many times now. Whatever Creed dished out, Kimble received. It was impossible what he could handle. She warmed up her hands with plasma and lay them on his back, bracing for impact. She had come to love these brief moments when they tumbled in that gentle free fall through Kimble's mind as his body foolishly tried to connect to a computer that was no longer there.
She gasped sharply from the draw and she was gone. She laughed, falling now with Kimble's arms wrapped around her in the grey sky of his mind. She would never admit this, but it was the gentleness of his touch she craved. He was always so tender with her, the opposite of every man she'd ever known. So submissive and calm, he would sit at her feet, sometimes for an hour or more, just trembling as he waited for her to speak. As soon as she gave the word, he was all over her, kissing her madly and shivering as her power cascaded into him. His skin would heat up and the fire of it drove her crazy. It never took him long to finish her. It didn't matter. The best part was what came after, the gentle cuddling and careful way he ran his hands over her. His most favorite thing to do was lay beside her, suckling gently at her breast until he fell asleep. How she would hold him then, her arms around him protectively as if she were his mother and not his lover.
"Unable to make connection," came the soft chime and then she was back on the outside.
Good riddance, ya bitch, Zander grumbled, but she never heard it. He disapproved of her only because she was part of Kimble's cycle of insanity. Beatings and cuddlings. Why didn't Kimble see that they just had to break free of this?
Cuz he's the Lover. If ya ever let yer anger drop, ya might feel some pleasure fer once, 'Shay said happily. She wanted only to belong somewhere and was content here. The beatings were a perk. It was payback for all the rotten things she'd done. She knew it was bad to kill, but now that all seemed so far away. The beatings would hold her. She couldn't wait to feel the belt again.
Back on the outside, Kimble whispered, "Thanks, Mary..." just before he conked out again, snoring softly.
Mary sat back and smiled just a little bit. She was always guarded around Creed. She knew he was jealous so she kept her moments with Kimble as private as possible. She was secretly planning a way to steal Kimble away, but so far an opportunity hadn't presented itself yet. Perhaps if she was patient...
"You even think about takin' him, Mary...I'll hunt ya down and shred ya, one limb at a time. One strand of muscle at a time. I'll drink yer blood right down an' have yer brains fer breakfast," Sabretooth threatened, completely serious.
Mary trembled. She had seen him do that once, oh yes. He'd brutalized a member of his group that had stolen from him. The whole thing took over an hour and Creed was reveling in it the whole time. How he had laughed! Mary had no illusions about the insanity of her boss - Victor was so wacked and violent, he operated on a whole other plane of existence than the rest of them. The only decent thing about him was that he paid very well. He had made her quite rich and all she really wanted was to be alive long enough to enjoy it.
"I wouldn't. You know that."
"Just sos we're clear, darlin'."
She gave him a small smile and rose to leave. "We're clear," she said stiffly and fled.
Creed chuckled to himself and smiled. His eyes grew heavy and he soon dropped off. His pain was gone, his rage was gone. There had been a brief moment of unpleasantness, but that was all behind them now and best forgotten. It was nice though, the whipping. Maybe he should get another belt...one a bit softer, yes. More supple, just like Daddy's. Yeah...he knew just the place to go. Creed twitched and snored himself, content.
To be continued in Confessions.