Property and ownership was a curious thing.

For what purpose is there to obtain, outside of personal gratification? Under what circumstance would a dog consent to being owned by a human being? Is it because the human provides for the creature? Tit for Tat, so to speak? Perhaps that was the problem - Moriarty wasn't human, far from it. So what significance did Sebastian hold to him? Why did he not protest this behavior? Sebastian held no sentimental value to him, he was merely a tired old gun waiting for an opportunity to be fired again. Perhaps the greatest infliction of indifference he could apply at this moment, within this trial, was to say nothing. He did not hold reason for his actions, or lack thereof. The spider was just curious to the predator that had trespassed inside his web. Perhaps he is biding his time. The spider is smart, he knows when to strike- he has been analysing this situation from since he was led into this room. With all of the new happenings, and the tricks Edmund has up his sleeve, Jim can only wait.

Edmund watched his prey writhe against the floor for a moment, grunting in disgust, blood flooding his nose and mouth. He merely watched him for what seemed like ages. The chaos was building and he continues to build this construct. The echoing sounds of the sniper's disdain reverberated against the cement walls and the speakers in the tiny room to which they were accompanied. Edmund smiled- Sebastian would regain his inner dwellings eventually, and he wouldn't want this to drag on for too long. Yet he would savor every moment of it. The blood and the terror of a triumphant brought a cinder. Although he could say that Sebastian has already been deconstructed by removing his eyesight- useless to Jim and the world. Edmund sighed.

"The thing is, Sebastian," he started, roaming to the back of the room to one of the many tables, digging around inside of a box. "This could have been anyone, really. I could have dragged anyone in here, and done all this. I mean," he chuckled. "Imagine if I brought Sherlock Holmes in here! To watch you squirm in terror as your Boss protests the destruction of him of all people, as opposed to you. Surely you couldn't be so...blind, to that, could you? Imagine the thought!" he laughed. He knew why Sebastian wasn't fighting. He knew that he was going to triumph for Jim, for whatever reason; he gave him purpose. He worshiped him. That was why Sebastian was here. "Your Boss, thrashing against the glass there, screaming, no, no leave Sherlock alone, he is mine to destroy..." he trailed off. "Right now we just know you'll last my twist in this game, that you'll last to fight for a delusion. Haven't you wondered why he has said nothing to protest your destruction, Sebastian?"

Sebastian said nothing. He was sputtering on himself, his skin burning, his eyes dull and lifeless now. He feels destroyed enough already. He couldn't give too shits what Edmund had in mind for him.

Fuck Jim.

Fuck Sherlock Holmes.

Fuck all of this. Fuck the army.

He hated his father probably more than he ever has in this moment, advising him with great purpose to join the military and become something, rather than a drunken shit living off of his father for the rest of his life. Although he would suppose he may have done just that, in essence. Sebastian's hair stuck to the floor, as he turned toward the sound. Edmund made a motion with his hand as he ventured back toward him, dragging something. The sound was so loud and so shrill and echoed against the dark cement walls just as Sebastian had. It sounded metal. Hollow. He tapped it on the ground next to his face.

To his surprise, the guard moved to turn Sebastian onto his back, his back arching as his erection was exposed to the air without friction- the sensation hot and throbbing.

"'Mmm. You've got such a pretty cock, Sebastian, I am impressed. It truly is no wonder Moriarty lets you fuck him like you do." This was followed by the harsh rip of velcro and fastening, wrapping something taut around his cock, a heavy weight lingering, followed by another of the same sensation. "I used to have dogs, you know. Very loyal, no surprise, it's what they're expected of." A pause, Edmund examining his work, Sebastian oblivious until he felt the cold metal rod, it seemed, pressed against his stomach. It itched against him, leaving some kind of debris behind; blood, rust, both, it didn't matter.

"The thing was, they got out of hand, out of control. I had raised them well, but it just seemed that they needed further persuasion of obedience." Two clicks. Footsteps.

"Jim, you might wanna watch this. Doesn't seem like something you've done before, I'm not sure." Edmund pauses, gazing toward the glass. "Although I'm sure it's certainly your cup of tea."

"You're a fucki-" Sebastian's own voice was cut off by the pressure and the sensation of the shock collars manifested against his dick, yelling in disdain yet denying the rush it gave him. His hips bucked, the shocks against his dick almost unbearable.

"These are very good for dogs, you know, Jim, I'm surprised you haven't given this a try." Edmund has a little remote in his hand, corresponding to the collars. This was certainly some kind of fuckery that Sebastian wasn't expecting. "Here are my terms. These collars are set at 6.0 Joules, that means high, if you didn't know," another chuckle. "And can reach up to 10.0. I would suggest you behave yourself, and if you make a sound, or move to manipulate your pretty cock in any way, then I'll press this button again." Which he does, to demonstrate a point, Sebastian writhing at the shock on his dick, traveling up his spine, the tendons in Sebastian's neck stretching, clenching his jaw to the point where his teeth almost break, if he were to press any harder. He's still bleeding from the assault on his face and he's being driven mad at the irritation under his skin, his seething spraying blood into the air of the fluorescent room. He's half tempted to tell Edmund just to fucking kill him. His ears were ringing.

Another flick of the wrist and the goon has Sebastian on his knees, his limbs like jelly in the guard's hands. He's dropped on the ground, his blood and sweat slick on the floor, his arse in the air, a sound of approval from Edmund at this. Sebastian feels exposed, his arse in the air like a common bitch, turning his head toward where he thinks he remembers the glass was.

Eyes on me, eyes on me.

There's a slender hand on his arse, carefully caressing the skin. "Makes sense to me now why Jim struggled to decide to get rid of you or not. You're such a pretty thing, it's a good thing he hired you." Edmund licked his lips. "I don't think I'd have as much fun with anyone else. So pliable." He takes a moment to spit on Sebastian's asshole, which, Sebastian himself wasn't expecting, making him jump a bit, breathing heavily against the floor. He twisted against his binds in protest, seeking purchase against his skin, but is met with another jolt of the shock collars against his cock, crying out in pain and sustenance.

"If you come I'll kill Jim." he is curt and loud, tapping the rod none to gently against the small of his back. "Keep that in mind, tiger." He spits on Sebastian's asshole again, moving to prod the metal rod against it. "Let's see how well Moriarty has fucked you into the bitch you are, shall we?"

Jim exhales, shutting his eyes for a moment, swallowing thickly. He feels so wretched and disgusting for almost becoming aroused by this. Watching his pet be manipulated by someone else- and yet, he is infuriated. Sebastian is his. Sebastian is his and no one else's. He has made his mark on the piece of shit human being and no one, no one is to be at the helm of control of Sebastian but Moriarty himself. Jim is almost infuriated at this point, and he is half tempted to break the glass once again, if he could. He'd be shot on his rising from the chair and he knows it. Perhaps the most he can do is look at his watch and continue to observe this trial. A feeling of failure brushes his shoulder but he does not acknowledge it.

A cry from Sebastian releases a whine in the speakers of the tiny room and Jim does not flinch as he watches the rod slowly get pressed inside of Sebastian, deeper and deeper and blood is followed with the slow and arduous removal. Edmund hums with approval before stopping, pressing it a good way inside, Sebastian's unsustainable cries almost choking him as he sputters.

"Hey," Edmund starts, trotting over to Sebastian's face, crouching to face him. "I said to be quiet, you." He waves a finger at his face, tapping his nose as he would a disobedient dog before pressing on his remote again, Sebastian biting his lip and clenching his eyes shut before bucking forward again, his cock dripping with precome at the sensation of being filled and stimulated. It's driving him certainly mad, a contradiction. The guard moves to lift Sebastian's head from the floor by his hair, drool and blood caking the side of his face, stringing and dragging from the hard surface. His eyes are dark, nonresponsive. Sebastian can move them, but it doesn't make any difference to his person. He may as well be a rag doll. The guard presses Sebastian's face to the front of his pants, grinding the blood and pressure against the bulge of his cock. Sebastian grunts, his hot breath certainly not helping with the fact there's a boner on his face. Held up by the hand of his hair, Edmund moves to Sebastian's backside, pressing his foot against the rod sticking out of his asshole, blood traveling carefully along the backs of his legs.

"Now this, I'm sure you're used to." he taps against the rod, Sebastian bucking against it. "Incase you couldn't tell, I'm sure you're very smart, he's going to fuck your face, Colonel. First." Sebastian grunts, another shock sent to his dick as he groans against the fabric. The guard moves to pull his cock from his pants, the heat permeating, throbbing against the side of Sebastian's face as he almost intentionally coats it with his blood before lifting his head, without a word, pressing it to his lips. Being the soldier and warrior he is, Sebastian makes no motion to move, resistant. This is resolved by the guard gripping the sides of his face, forcing his mouth open as best to his ability before he has to rut his boot against Sebastian's sternum, gripping his hair tightly before pushing his way inside his wet, slick mouth.

The guard moves to fuck him roughly, removing himself once to allow Sebastian to breathe.

"If you bite down," Edmund announces, tapping his foot once again against the metal rod, before reaching up and twisting it, releasing a groan from Sebastian. "I'll push this into your insides. Tiger on a stick." He laughs, pulling the rod out before pressing it back inside as Sebastian groans.

"Hey!" Edmind shouts, turning a dial on the remote, before pressing the button with unneeded force. Sebastian's cock is swollen and dripping, now, slick with his own mess before remembering there's a cock in his mouth and throat and that he cannot breathe. Truly the beginning of the end. The guard comes with a grunt, pressing inside of his mouth before Edmund rushes over. "Ah-ah- don't swallow it, don't spit it. Let daddy see-" (Jim was almost yanking at the seams of the chair at that.) Edmund observes him, the guard moving to place himself back into his pants, venturing to Sebastian's backside as Edmund smiles, holding Sebastian up by his chin. "My, what a mess you've made." He holds his mouth open as he dips his bloody fingers inside, gathering up the come that Sebastian has held there before carefully wiping it along his face and the inside of his mouth, coating him with it until he's a pretty portrait. "My God you're filthy. Blood and come all over you." He clicks his tongue, tapping his foot as Sebastian supesses another moan, the guard yanking the rod from his asshole. Edmund smiles that wretched smile at him. "I almost wanted to tell you to look at me." He laughed, pulling himself from his pants now, stroking himself hard.

"Jim I almost want to ask how you feel about how pretty Sebastian is. In fact, I will. Jim, how pretty is Sebastian?"

Nothing.

No response.

Just a dead quiet, the spider watching and watching alone. He almost seethes.

"Jim..." Edmund starts again, pulling a gun from his trousers. This is the ultimate moment that would determine Jim's protest to Sebastian's demise. Whether it be for his sick pleasure, or the fact he cannot afford to lose him, or whatever reason, his choice of words on how he should respond will determine how soon this ends.

"How. Pretty. Is. He?"

Edmund unhinges the safety, the barrel pressed firmly against Sebastian's eye as he continues to hold him with his chin, his cock out shamelessly. This will and would have never ended well. Sebastian exhales, come and blood dripping from him.

The speakers crackle in the very large and very loud room.

"Gorgeous."