Aiden really had no idea where either of his lovers sexual preferences came from, nor why they seemed to be drawn to him of all people. Perhaps, it was his seriousness in the situation that allowed the two to trust him. Aiden was a dick, but, as much as he could if he wanted to, the man had learned the hard way on what would happen if the scene got out of hand. Aiden wasn't in it for the abuse nor for the joy of breaking his lovers down. Well, the later, he was, but only to a certain extent, afterwards, Aiden would give them the best after care he could with whatever was available to him at the time it took place. More times than not, Rick got the better end of the stick on that end, mostly, due to the fact that the man was married and lived with a woman. Aiden, for his part, tried not to play favorites between his two lovers. If Rick got better after care, Daryl got more leeway within the scene. It was probably not the greatest idea, with how young the boy was, but Aiden figured he could always ease the kid into a more strict routine as he got older and enough aftercare products were available to him.
For the 4 years, 3 years officially in the scene, Daryl was put through his paces with Aiden as the man stripped the boy of all his ideas on the scene. Aiden had been horrified to learn most of the kids knowledge on the dominate and submission scene came from porn sites, random little videos he had ran by in the grand search to get his rocks off.
"For fucks sake, Darlina," Aiden had snarled out, "fantasy books on the subject had more accurate description of what we are doing."
Daryl shrunk in on himself with a whimper. "I'm sorry, Daddy."
Thus, the retraining had started. Aiden started with the positions: the kneeling, presenting, the most comfortable way to position the body for both of them, and moved on from there to obedience. A lot of the smaller details had to be edited a bit, both because Daryl was a male, not a female, and due to Aiden's height. Minor inconveniences that Daryl hadn't given any thought to before joining a real scene made themselves known. Things the kid thought shouldn't be possible became possible under Aiden's skillful hands. Yes, apparently, his body could bend that way. No, that position wasn't possible, especially for a male with no gymnastic experience from youth. It was slow going and even 3 years into the scenes, Daryl, who now officially went by Darlina when his mind descended into subspace, was still learning.
Daryl, to his own horror, found he really did like being treated like a spoiled princess when he was in his, officially dubbed, Darlina persona. Aiden shrugged when the kid brought it up to him.
"We all have kinks we can't control, baby doll," Aiden had said, reaching out to Daryl the morning after a rather intense scene where Aiden had his Darlina model the baby doll outfit for him. "Sometimes, it just is. Do you think the people who get off hearing people pissing enjoyed learning that about themselves?" Aiden pushed Daryl's bangs back from the kid's face, taking the time to lightly scratch at the scalp. Daryl leaned into Aiden, taking comfort in the man.
"No," Daryl scrunched his face up into a discussed expression, "I imagine not." Yeah, he would take being treated like a woman over golden showers. That just horrified him.
"Don't kink shame, Baby," Aiden said with a small laugh. "Kink ask why, but don't kink shame. It's hard enough for them to accept it without an outside point of view invading their thoughts."
When Aiden had left at the end of that week filled with hazy fog and demands, the man had left his debit card and a note.
"Darlina," the note started in what Daryl had come to recognize as Aiden's chicken scratch of handwriting, all capitalized and spaced out for easier reading, "I had an emergency situation pop up in New York. Purely, business I assure you. I'm leaving you my card to use as you please, princess. Let Daddy make up for the sudden departure." It wasn't signed, but it didn't matter, Daryl would recognize the handwriting anywhere. Aiden was the only person he knew who had a strange cross of doctor's and architect's handwriting.
Daryl put the note down and reached out to snatch up the card, a grin already threatening to split his face in half. He was so, so going to use this. He'd make sure Aiden rued the day he left him, a teen about to hit his 20s, unlimited access to the man's back account.
Being in a gang had its privileges, thankfully, or Aiden would have been fucked. Luckily, he usually pushed his purchases on one of the other idiots who acted as his body guards and companions, so even if he had noticed the drop in income that started that day, he wouldn't have worried. He had plenty of 'blood money' and other legitimately earned money to go around.
His other lover, Rick, fucking, Grimes, on the other hand, had married into his life of bdsm, not that anyone would have known. The man had a strict policy of keeping personal interest separated from work and family, which, when Aiden took over his wife's neglected position, included his Master. To friends and family, Aiden didn't exist. The short man was supposed to be a ghost that fluttered in and out as he wanted. Their session lasting a week twice a year, with the exception of the times Rick needed to take care of his home life. For a week, outside of the 12 hour time frame that Rick spent with Carl and pacifying his wife, who was spending more and more time outside the house, Rick relished in being Aiden's fuckboy.
Aiden guessed, Rick enjoyed giving up the responsibilities he placed on himself. Being a Sheriff wasn't easy by a long shot, and the man had probably seen enough to want to give it all up. Unlike Aiden, who always lived in a relatively free lifestyle, Rick couldn't just do or say whatever he wanted. The taller man had to live up to an image, follow the ridged rules of society. With Aiden, Rick didn't need to uphold the law or be a role model for the town to follow. The man just had to be the one doing the following.
Aiden wanted to be able to say he was surprised by the man's need to submit, to let go of all his responsibilities and decision making, but Aiden wasn't. Most people holding a high enough position: CEOs, law enforcement, lawyers, turned out one of two ways. They were either like Aiden, who thrived in the violence and demands of the position, or like Rick, who wanted to forget, even for a moment, that they made the hard choices in life and relished in the idea of not having to make the decisions. Aiden couldn't begrudge the man. He was just surprised his pet was one of those types. Rick Grimes came off as one of the 'others,' as Aiden called it, the type who could balance the authority over others and still lead a very vanilla life style outside of work.
Aiden wasn't prepared for the man to strip down as soon as the door closed, for him to sink to his knees, head bowed in a completely submissive posture. Rick's movements were well practiced, like they rehearsed for years. While Aiden had no problem with the role reversal, it did throw the short man for a loop for a moment. Up until the door to their rented room closed, Rick had been the one coming on to him pretty hard, and Aiden, not being one to say no to any kind of sex, allowed the man to paw at his body.
"The fuck just happened?" Aiden voiced out loud, voice colored with his confusion. One minute, the sheriff was on him, lifting him almost off the ground due to his small frame, grabbing at him, his ass, his hips, hands gripping at his messy black hair, then the man was sinking to his knees in front of him.
Rick bowed down, forehead centimeters from touching the floor. "I'm sorry, Sir," his panicked voice rang through the air between them, "I broke the rules. I'll accept any punishment you deem necessary."
It took Aiden a few minutes to realize what rules the other man was talking about. Ah, the global rules where a submissive must not approach the dominate. Stupid rules if you asked him. How was he supposed to know the submissive was into him? Aiden always enjoyed the occasional brave soul approaching him. He found it enduring, after all, not many could stand his attitude. Then again, if Rick thought he was in the wrong, who was Aiden to say otherwise? "Did you now?" Aiden moved a step closer in interest. "And," he drew out, "which ones would that be, my pet?"
Rick shivered at the global nickname from dominate to submissive. "A submissive is never to approach a dominate without expressed permission from either the dominate themselves or the current Master or Mistress of the submissive." The man recited like he was reading from a book, which told Aiden the man's previous dominate had the submissive do this a lot, "especially, under the pretense of a lie."
A lie? "Oh, and what lie did you approach me under, pet." Aiden crouched down, lifting the, apparently, submissive's chin so he could look into Rick's eyes.
Rick hesitated. This man, who said to call him Ace, which he was sure was also a fake name just like his license plate, was being gentle despite his rough tone. It wasn't what he was what he was expecting when the door closed, giving the two of them privacy. Rick was expecting to be man handled, much like the rough treatment he was given in the hallway leading to the room. Ace had given back as much as he had gotten in the hallway, meeting every bruising grip for one of his own, which was half the reason Rick silently decided to continue as the submissive of this one night stand. "I lied through my actions, Sir," he couldn't help but whisper, like he was telling a sinful secret.
Aiden clicked his tongue at the man's words. "You wanted the rough sex, but you didn't want to do the fucking." Aiden's fingers ran across Rick's cheek, over the cheek bone in a deceptively light touch. Suddenly, fingers were buried into the sheriff dark locks, gripping tightly at the roots, as Aiden pulled the man's head back, exposing a smooth neck at an uncomfortable angle. "Isn't that right?" The statement was growled out.
The sudden rough treatment pulled a whimper from Rick. "Y-yes, S-sir."
Aiden sneered at the man. "Of course, because that's what sluts do," Aiden cooed at the man in a sickly sweet tone. "They tease you, get you all hot and bothered." Then, Aiden let his tone fall back into the darker tone, one that only hinted at the violent side of his personality, "Then, they sit back and let you do all of the work." The man leaned in, balancing on the tip of his toes, brushing the tip of his nose against Rick's cheek, following the same path as he finger tips did to Rick's ear. "Not tonight," Aiden whispered, voice rough with arousal, "Tonight, you work for your right to cum," he leaned back, a smug smirk on his handsome face, "bitch."
Aiden fell into this odd routine with Daryl and Rick. Daryl, being the youngest, was more needy then Rick, which led to Aiden spending more time with the kid. With Daryl, Aiden didn't need trigger words. The kid seemed to be perfectly capable of triggering the scene on his own. When Daryl used the word 'Daddy' in any context, Aiden knew what he needed, what he wanted. Rick, on the other hand, needed someone to pull him into the scene, needed someone to remind him of his place. If Aiden didn't remind him, Rick would over work himself, often to the point of neglecting basic care.
What was stranger still, in the 4 (Rick) to 5 (Daryl) years that he had going back and forth between the two men, when he wasn't being called to make long rides across the USA for 'business,' neither asked more from him. Sure, Daryl would call him almost every day, except when Merle was in town, while Aiden was away, sometimes as Darlina, but that was to be expected with every young lover. Rick would virtually forget about him, until the man was feeling extra stressed and lonely, then Rick would blow up his phone with calls and texts (much to the guys amusement).
All and all, Aiden was content with his sex life. Not life, obviously, he still hated that, but his sex life was great.
Until the ever mother fucking apocalypse.
The day started out pretty normal, Aiden was in New, fucking, York trying to settle another yearly dispute with another gang over importing and exporting goods through their territory. Every year, he came up, mostly just to make sure his books were straight. Every year, Aiden would have to argue with the leader over the price increase. It was ridiculous cycles those meant long hours of talk and pretending to play nice. It was difficult on his mentality. Aiden believe he was built for anything but being nice.
"Ugh." The first thing he was doing when he made it back to the sweet was taking this damn suit jacket off. It restricted blood flow to the arms. "I am so taking a long shower when we get back."
"Aw," Terry teased as he followed Aiden out the doors, "I think you look dashing."
"No kidding," Jefferson piped in from the front of the group of four. "Honestly, I think it's the only reason we all come up here with you, Gen. You should dress up more."
Aiden glared at Jefferson. "Shut up." Then, in a show of confidence, "I'm always good looking and dashing. You guys are just idiots."
"Hey," Terry started but was cut off by some screaming lady running by pushing him forward into Max, who grunted in surprise. "What the hell lady?" She was already gone.
They exchanged confused glances with each other. "What was that about?" Jefferson asked.
Then the screaming started. It was slow at first. One person seemed to go off, then it would die down, like it was suddenly cut off. Then another would start screaming a little further down from the first. By time they has made it to their bikes, groups of people were screaming and running.
"I don't know what is going on," Aiden said, wearily watching the chaos, "but I think, we should hurry up and get out of town."
The others nodded in agreement. As one, they started up their engines. One by one, they pulled out of the restaurants parking garage, heading back to their rented room.
Jefferson, Terry, Max, and Aiden swerved in and out of the traffic around them. Cars honked at them as they cut them off at the pass. They didn't pay attention. Just keep riding like the devil himself was after them. It seemed like they had left the chaos of whatever was happening behind them for the moment, but the hairs on the back of Aiden's neck didn't go down. Something was happening… Something big but still in the process of growing. Aiden didn't want to be here when it reached its peak. New York was a big city, but it wasn't that kind of city. Yes, the crime rate was through the roof, but the people here were more desensitized to violence. It took a lot to set off that big of a crowd.
"Terry, Max, stay here with the bikes." Aiden began dishing out orders the moment they pulled up to the doors of the hotel they had rented out from. "Jefferson and I will go get our shit. Don't let anyone near you or the bikes while we are gone. Be prepared for a quick get away." Aiden turned to head in, but paused, then turn back to Max and Terry. "Better start making your calls now," he said, a dark look on his face. "It may be the last time you can." Then, he turn on his heel, walking through the doors with Jefferson directly behind him.
10 minutes later, after cursing the elevator for being too slow, pushing God knows how many people out of their way, the group set out again. This time they were heading to home base. They had to rally the gang together.
Aiden reached up, pressing the Bluetooth button on his helmet, not caring if the wind from his speed would whistle through the speaker. "Call Darlina," he practically yelled over the wind.
"Calling…" the automated voice confirmed. The phone rang once, twice…
"Ace?" the voice on the other side sounded surprised. Not unexpected. Aiden hardly reached out to his lovers first.
"Daryl, honey," Aiden paused, focusing for a minute on swerving around two colliding cars. There was a loud boom of the cars as they crashed. Either the chaos was spreading or Aiden was going the wrong way. "Turn on the TV. Tell me if they are showing coverage on New York right now."
"Why? What's going on?"
"Just do it!" Aiden ordered. He didn't have time for this. He needed to get out of New York safely and, preferably, intact. To do that, Aiden needed to focus on what he was doing, which was riding a motorcycle through a dangerous wave of panicked people and swerving cars. "Now! I don't have time for explanations. I need information."
"Okay, okay." There was clattering of items being pushed around coming from the background, which told Aiden the boy was finally doing as he ordered. Then, a 'Hey! I was watching that!' shout from, Aiden guessed, Merle. It went silent on the other end of the line.
"Daryl," Aiden prodded the boy, trying to remind the kid that he was still on the line. "Baby, what's going on?"
"They are saying there was an outbreak of some sort," Daryl started, then stopped as if to listen. "They say it was brought in on a shipping container suspected to be importing human trafficking."
"Shit." That explained why the father away from the warehouses they got, the less chaos they ran into. Problem is: it seemed to be catching up fast. "Okay…" Aiden took in a deep calming breath. "Okay."
"Ace, don't tell me you're in the middle of that," Daryl's voice held a tinge of panic at the idea.
"No, baby doll," Aiden reassured the boy as best he could. "Id say we are on the edge of it."
"That doesn't make it any better," Daryl whined.
"No, it really doesn't, does it?" Aiden let out a defeated laugh at the idea. "But, I'll make it home. I always do."
"Daddy," the voice coming through was quiet, almost watery,. Then, Daryl cleared his throat, and the next time the boy spoke, it was clear of any signs of Darlina. "Their closing off the zones now. The areas focused near the warehouse and a little further out."
"It's okay," Aiden promised, "I'm already halfway across town, few minutes at this speed, I'll be on the open road. Just-" Aiden hit the brakes hard, holding them as he let the forward momentum turn his bike at a ninety degree angle. Letting off the breaks, Aiden continued forward, going a different route and around the pile up on the street he had originally been on. Behind him, Aiden could hear his companions doing the same. "Just start preparing for the worst, baby. Daddy doesn't know when he will be able to meet up with again, but, I promise, Daddy will find you wherever you end up." He hoped. "if, for whatever reason, you need to move before I can meet up with you, I'm going to home base. I'm going to send you the address, baby. I need you to write it down. Memorize it, okay. Can you do that for Daddy?"
"Yes, Daddy." They both ignored the 'What the fuck!' in the background. This was serious.
"Good boy. Now, Daddy needs to make other phone calls so I'm going to hang up now." Aiden didn't know what possessed him to say this next part, he would blame the adrenaline running through his veins, "Daddy loves you, baby boy." The statement came out a lot quieter then the rest, but, judging by the gasp on the other end, Daryl heard it. "Now go do what you do best and max out Daddy's credit card." Then, he hung up, not giving the boy time to respond.
Aiden rode another mile or two, dipping and weaving, completely focused on riding. With every curve and turn, Aiden pushed for the city exit. When he hit a relatively clear road, Aiden reached up, hitting the Bluetooth button again. "Call Pet." This call rang three times before it was picked up.
"Rick's phone, Lori speaking."
Aiden growled. "Where's Rick?"
There was a pause on the other end and a deep breath being drawn in. Then out. A calming technique then. "Excuse me, but who is this?"
Aiden scowled. Fucking woman, he thought. "Ace."
"Oh!" her voice was sickening to listen to. "That CI guy from Rick's job right?" Is that what Rick told people? Is the man trying to kit him killed? Shit, no wonder Terry and Jefferson had been tense when they went to visit.
"Or something." Because, Aiden loathed lying.
"Oh…" the woman hesitated, unsure of what to think. "Well, since you don't seem to know," that alone, sounded wrong to Aiden, "Rick was shot while on the job a few days ago. He is currently resting."
And, Aiden thought, why did that sound so odd, too? How the fuck does a normal woman sound so… not chocked up over the her husband being shot? Perhaps, he tried to reason, it wasn't that bad? Just a scratch, maybe? "Tell Rick Grimes, Ace called. And to call me back as soon as he wakes up." He added, just in case, "Tell him, it isn't a suggestion, and, just incase, I'm on my way." Aiden hung up on the woman before she could reply back. He really did have a lot of calls to make, and they were reaching the city limits., where the service for burner phones generally start dropping.