Austin from the last chapter was Hazelbaum's character, go check out her FanFiction. She helped me out a lot with the last chapter, things such as how Eddy was caught and who Eddward had information on? Those were her ideas. Just want to give full credit to her for that, it helped me get past a small block I was having where I couldn't figure out what to do.

WARNING: BDSM. Now, on to the show!

"Marie, could I speak to you for a moment?"

She stopped and turned around, confusion in her eyes, "Yeah, sure...what's up, Eddward?"

I played a neutral expression upon my lips to reassure her, "I am in need of your services, to help pay a debt."

Despite her wariness, she smirked, "Debt? You mean like all those debts you have with me?"

"Not quite, mon amie," I stepped closer, "for you see, I have made a..."deal" with the devil, so-to-speak."

She was genuinely surprised by that, "You made a deal with Eddy?"

I could have smiled at her astuteness, "I have."

"...Alright, what's the catch?"

I looked away for a moment, not entirely confident any more that she would play the game with me, "I...need you to listen in on your sister's phone calls with a certain, how-you-say, ne'er-do-well?" I saw her bite her lip, and continued, "The incriminating evidence is the payment. I wish I did not have to use your sister for such things, but-"

"Yeah...yeah, I get it. It's Eddy...I just...fuck, man, couldn't you have asked first?" I felt the guilt weighing down on me, "You know I hate to betray her like this..."

I used a small amount of ammunition, something I was rare to do to my friend, but it needed to be done, "Would that May and Austin got together, even for a night..."

She looked away, and I didn't even have to spell it out for her. May, despite her cold attitude and her many, well, 'habits,' was actually a very kind-hearted girl. She was easily influenced, and thus, when Austin decided she'd be useful to have on his side, she fell for his honeyed words fast. For the entirety of the school year, she'd been under his thumb, providing an open ear, and useful insights. Both Marie and I wished that Ed would simply notice her attentions, for it would rid the sod that was Austin from our lives quite quickly.

Still, the one time that Marie had intruded upon a conversation where Austin was bragging to May, stroking his ego as he was, the sisters had a huge argument. Tensions had lessened, and within a week they'd mostly forgotten about it, but May wasn't certain she could trust Marie any more. If things went bad; for instance, if Lee had a rotten day and caught Marie, deciding tattling would cause a good show; their relationship could suffer.

Marie did not hesitate for long, nodding calmly, "I'll...alright, Eddward. But not for Eddy's sake...I just...want that scum out of my sister's life. Just...tell Eddy to be patient, alright? It's not every night he calls-"

"I shall. Thank you, Marie."

Her smile was weak, "No problem, Eddward, but...what info did you get on Jamison, anyways? I'm assuming that's what you went to Eddy for..."

"I cannot say, and shall not," not that I would know until I visited my locker later, "but hopefully it will rid him from my life, and Kevin's, permanently."

"Well, good luck on that, I'm heading to class. See ya, black-eyes."

I sighed softly, letting my doubts overtake me for a lone moment as she walked away, "Au revoir, Maria."

It was...not exactly what I expected.

Perhaps I was expecting condoms, to show his frivolity. Perhaps even names of girls, of whom I could inquire and learn certain, damning details about his personal life.

No, before me there was a magazine, with a strapping young man...well, said man was 'strapping' another man to a bed. Would that my plans for the evening didn't rely on it, I would have found it rather amusing. It also carried with it possibilities.

On one hand, he could identify with the dominant man. He was quite the strong man in school, sports and manliness and all that uninteresting crud that I knew was likely a charade...

I couldn't help but believe it was rather the other hand that held the key.

And so, I received my part.

Let the play commence.

I knocked on the door at around 5:30 in the evening. Jamison had come home from school not long ago, having been practising 'sports' for some time, and would likely be in the shower. Would that I came too early, I'm not certain I could have willed myself to...to do this. Too late, and perhaps he would be able to put up a fight. No, I needed a foot in the door and his parents' trust and favor. That was my saving grace.

A frail, subtle lady answered, curly hair in a bun, speaking curiously, "Yes?"

I nodded my head, putting on the most realistic, kind smile I could manage, "Ah, Mrs. Archer, I presume? My name is Eddward; I'm a friend of Jamison's. It is a pleasure to meet you!" I held my hand out gently, and we shook hands. I loathed even the small act, but my mask didn't drop.

"Oh! Oh my, Jamison did not mention any visitors this evening, umm," she looked around the corner, "Jake, honey, we have a guest." There was the smallest amount of fear in her actions, and I immediately felt pity for the woman.

"Fer cryin' out loud, what now?" A large man turned the corner, scowling at me with eyes of an eagle after its prey, "whaddya want, kid?"

I shifted my demeanor immediately. No longer was I a sweet, upstanding boy; now, I radiated confidence, pride, and intelligence in my stance.

"Honoured to meet you, Mr. Archer, your son is quite fond of your influence," a lie, but it was the perfect one for the situation, "I did not mean to intrude, but your son is in need of some...assistance."

He furrowed his brows, "Yeah? What could he need from you?"

I could feel him sizing me up. I wore the clothing Father favored, and I wore short sleeves, allowing me to tense the muscles beneath them as I held out my hand to explain, "It seems he's got a thing for my friend, and, between you and me, sir," at that wording, Jamison's mother scurried off, and I lowered my voice to a sly whisper, "she's totally into him. I just gotta get him to make the first move, and I know exactly what he needs to do. I think he knows what I'm planning though, and is too cocky to ask for help, so I figured-"

He laughed richly, "Ha! My boy needs to know when to take some help. Glad to know there's girls gunnin' for him though, was beginning to think his little pansy ass was shootin' for the other team, iffen you know what I mean, son." His smile was dark; I knew the context behind what he meant, even. I loathed him all the more for it.

"He's quite the looker to the ladies, but he isn't always good at talking to them, I'm afraid. I, on the other hand, can help him with that-"

I was cut off by a nearing voice, "-Eddward? The hell are-"

"Jamison, you fuckin' dog, you," I held back wincing at his terminology, and it almost seemed as if Jamison did the same, "this kid's here to set you straight, and by that I mean get you with a smokin' hot babe, right son?" He clapped his hand on my shoulder, and I almost wanted to vomit from the fact that the vile man was touching me.

"Come now, you know I've been planning this. You won't get away this time!" My voice was playful, and held none of the malice that was seeping through my eyes, my smile laced with rancor.

His hair was in a towel, and he quickly finished up, tossing it on the floor. I was a bit baffled until his mother came by to pick it up; I could have rolled my eyes at how much I loathed this family at this point. His eyes went from me, to his dad, then back to me again.

"Let's...take this to my room, shall we?" His father's eyes pierced him, and he brushed him off, "Yeah yeah, I'll tell you about it later, Pops. Gimme some privacy, will ya? Yeesh."

At that, his old man backed down, and I was led down the right corridor to the room at the end.

The moment we were in, I slipped behind him. He locked the door with a growl, and went to turn back around.

He didn't get that far.

I slammed my chest against his back, arm grabbing his wrist and pinning them high up his back. I felt his fingers clawing back against my chest as I did so. He fought back valiantly, and I had to use every bit of strength I had to keep him there, leg locked between his, but I knew he couldn't yell out. His dad would kill him for being so weak, and that gave me the strength to continue. I had a plan.

I hissed into his ear, my voice running like syrup, "Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy," he struggled, little grunts heard as he tried to escape without making it audible through the door, "you've been a naughty boy, haven't you? Ohhh yes, I see it in your eyes, you know you deserve this..." My voice was breathy near his ear as he struggled to turn around. I could swear he wanted to bite me, the fire in his eyes burned so brightly.

"Get me the fuck away from the door you fucking psychopath and I'll smash your fucking face in!" His voice was a deep growl I'd never heard from him before, but rather than scare me, it made me chuckle.

"Ahh Jimmy, you don't make the rules," I pulled back quickly, my fingers digging into his arms as I threw him around and onto the floor, as quietly as I could, whilst still being painful. His chin still hit the carpet, and I put a knee right at the bottom of his spine, "do you, bitch?" I growled, straining to keep his arms down as I leaned close to his ears. His legs went up to kick me, and I contemplated holding them down with my own, but decided against it.

My knee slid downwards, hitting the floor as it sat directly between his legs, pressing tight against his package. I wasn't Eddward at the moment, I was the actor, so was he. All else was secondary in importants.

"Get your...f-fucking knee off my...the fuck are you d-doing-mmph!"

He grunted as I forced my knee forward, grinding roughly, "You don't speak, bitch. Say it. You're a bitch."

"The fuck a-"

"You. Don't. Speak." I growled against his neck, mentally voiding myself as I bit down hard on the flesh on his shoulder. He gasped, lips closing to keep quiet. My teeth sunk deeper, and I dragged them down his shoulder, under the cloth. I was at least 'with it' enough to know not to leave a lasting mark anywhere visible, instead choosing to leave my reminder somewhere he'd have to see every single day for the next few weeks.

"Fucker..." he mumbled out, a growling moan vibrating my lips, and I bit down harder. For a moment, his struggles lapsed, I held until he started again.

"You're my bitch. You know you want this, and the longer you hold out, the worse it'll get." I shifted my knee, hitting it between his legs again just to remind him of what I meant, causing him to groan.

"..." He tried to reply, but it came out as a breathy hiss, and I could see his eyes closed tight. The redness on his cheeks was new, and I found myself smirking.

"Say it," I hissed.

"I'm..." He stopped, breathing heavily as I continued to force him down, my knee in constant motion.

"Say it if you want more, bitch. You've wanted this for years, haven't you, you slut?" His eye fluttered open, teeth clenching, and I knew I found the key, "Beg for me to fuck you, whore, it's the only way you'll ever get it..." I purred into his ear as I left the wet, tender spot at his shoulder, biting down hard on the lobe.

"I...I...t-take me..." His voice was strangely frail, much different from the one he faked at school.

I cackled quietly, "What are you, slut? Tell me what you are..."

He cringed, "I'm your...I'm your bitch..." he said breathlessly.

My knee slid away, his eye shooting open, but he didn't struggle to escape quite as fervently. One of my arms left a wrist, allowing him free reign, but he didn't take it. I slid it around his neck, pulling him up as I stood, his head back over my shoulder as I pushed him forward. When we got to the window, I let go of his other wrist, and crept my fingers down the front of his pants.

"You like this, don't you? You nasty, disgusting whore, how could anyone want you? You're lucky I found out. Maybe if you're a good boy, I can help you," I gripped at his cock, squeezing the tight muscle, hissing in his ear, "say it."

"I'm a-I'm a good boy!"

His whispered loudly, moaning as his jaw pressed against the window. I looked outside.

I scoffed, "You will be."

I abruptly let go, and he almost fell, one hand reaching for his throat as he gasped, face flushed and eyes wide as he stared at me. I watched his eyes go down, and I could have laughed. I couldn't have been less turned-on. It was all an act, and I wasn't particularly into this whole...domination thing. Still, he seemed fooled. And confused.

"E...Eddward," he started, and I lifted my chin, hands sliding into my pant pockets.

"Take a look at what your hidden fetishes have wrought, Jimmy. Come now, don't be shy, he doesn't bite." I smiled, nodding towards the window as my eyes flicked in its direction. Horror took hold in his eyes as he turned, seeing a certain boy with a camera down below, his grin biting, eyes sly. "Funny how things work out, no, mon cher?"

"Y-you can't, I paid him-"

"Yes, and now the money is gone, wherever he wills it. You are not aware how to pay over time, are you?" He didn't understand, and I sighed, shaking my head, "Foolish little Jimmy..."

"Stop calling me that, you fucking...you..." His voice was weak.

"What? Jimmy? But...Jamison is such a long name, so...unfitting of you," I chided, "was it daddy's choice?" I watched my comment stab him in the gut, and smiled a little, "Oh, Jimmy...how far you've fallen. One day, you're this handsome, unattainable jock with an iron thumb and a lackey, and the next?" I cringed my nose, "You're nothing but a hot mess pleading on the floor. Oh, but I suppose you still have the lackey..."

He was simmering, a predator trapped, and I was glaring into his frightened eyes, "Do not worry, for I am a...more merciful sort than yourself. Eddy will hold the photograph, in trust, unless I say the word."

His shoulders slumped, and he looked pathetically weak. There was shame in him.

Eyes closed, he mumbled weakly, "W..why?"

In that moment, I took stock of him once more. Stripped of his coat of masculinity, that paint he'd worn since puberty made him aware of his more primal, 'unnatural' urges, he was nothing more than an untended, withering flower. His mother was outspoken, nothing more than a housewife, as his father dominated the household with an iron grip. He was hiding even more than me, for at least, at school, I could be angry. I could be cruel. I could ignore anyone and anything that did not interest me.

Jamison was forever in his father's hands. Certainly, he could rebel much further than simply bullying and blackmailing an innocent, but at what cost? Would he have a home? What would happen to his mother? I'd seen little of her, but I imagine that without Jamison, she would be much worse-off. She seemed sweet, and out of her league...how did that marriage even occur, I wondered.

Strange how being controlled, likely without even realizing it, with how much he repressed, made him so...interested, in such things. To each their own.

But for now, I had an answer to give, and another mask to slip on.

I tossed his question in my head for a moment, before calmly replying to him, "I'm only playing the game, mon cher. I am almost...sorry for you."

I tidied up my shirt as he looked back, still shattered by what had happened. I imagine this was the only time he'd ever been able to be himself, and for it all to be a trick, well...let's just say I am loathe to be needlessly cruel. I almost wished he hadn't provoked me. It didn't sit right in my heart, but...but he wasn't ready to come out yet, and face himself, I reminded myself. It was the only way.

I left the room with the same smile I entered with, calm and confident. His father thanked me on the way out, and his mother wished me well.

And I knew that Jamison wouldn't be bothering me again anytime soon.

The unfortunate soul.

One of my best friends in high school was a terror for most of her school days. I befriended her by chance after seeing she wasn't a bad person at heart, and was invited to a birthday party. I met her mother, and knew where a lot of her issues came from. Then I met her father, who decided to visit for that special day...and remember how she told me about her...well, about things he did to her during her childhood. The moral is? Until you've seen someone's home life, you can't judge them, because there's a damn good chance they're a lot better off than their parents left them.

I hope at least a few of you can have pity on him.

Until next time, my dears.