Succession (35 page)

A slap across my face lets me know I’ve gone too far.

“A whore like you should know how to be believable!” Torenze snaps.

“Sir, his master has requested that you avoid his face,” Sy reminds him without a trace of emotion in his voice. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want this arrangement to come to an end.”

Torenze glares at him with rage, but before he can say anything, Sy continues.

“I’d suggest the inner thighs in the future. They’re very sensitive and still within Mr. Michaud’s limits.”

I’m not sure who’s more stunned, me or Torenze, but there is a noticeable moment of silence as we both react to Sy’s advice. Instead of following it, or perhaps, reserving it for later, Torenze grabs me by the hair and forces me to my knees. Once I’m there, he kicks me forward until I fall, my head barely held up from hitting the ground. I lie there pliant, waiting.

“Fluffy,” Torenze calls, making his slave come running with a look of fear on his face. “I think the little whore would like to play doctor. Go get me the bag with the medical supplies.”

I shudder to think of what that might entail. Cash made Torenze agree not to cause actual harm or to break skin, so at least knives and needles are out of the question. Torenze alternates between slapping and kicking me while he waits, pausing every now and again push a finger into my ass, making me squirm.

“Tell me how good that feels,” he hisses.

“It’s wonderful, sir,” I reply, remembering to keep it believable. Old memories of the time I spent as a brothel whore come rushing back, and acting like a whore comes too naturally. “I love the way you touch me, sir. I can’t wait to feel you inside. Will you make me beg, or will you just give it to me hard?”

I hear his slight intake of breath and I know I’m turning him on. He likes that I’m faking it, and he likes that I’m keeping it reasonable.

“Do you like being fisted, my pretty little whore?”

I try not to shudder, because it’s not something I’ve ever enjoyed, and I’m definitely not looking forward to the first time in years being with Torenze. “I’m sure I’ll like feeling you take control of me like that, sir.”

Torenze laughs, then looks at Sy. “What about you, bodyguard? You ever just want to put your arm into this little whore?”

“Can’t say I’ve had the opportunity, sir,” Sy replies, friendly, like he’s discussing foreign travel.

“This one will love it,” Torenze decides, striking my ass hard enough to make me jerk. “Just wait until you hear him beg me to do it harder.”

Sy doesn’t reply. I hope that Torenze will settle for just fucking me and humiliating me today, leave the actual torture alone.

Of course, when “Fluffy” returns with the medical equipment, I doubt that I’ll be that lucky. Torenze gives his slave a bottle of lube and orders him to get me ready. I’m surprised that he’s not doing it himself, but it seems he’s more interested in pulling out his tools. He tosses a few aside, the sharp ones that would violate his agreement with Cash, but the rest he pulls out slowly and deliberately. A speculum. A metal gag that holds a patient’s mouth open. An electrical unit. An enema bag. A set of what I really hope aren’t sounding wands. After pulling each out of the bag they’re contained in, he glances at me, probably judging my reaction and making plans for later.

I remember that he was a professional torturer.

At the same time, Fluffy is working my ass quickly and efficiently. I’m sure part of it is to appease his master, but he probably wants to spare me some pain as well. I have no doubt that he is intimately familiar with everything Torenze wants to do to me.

Once Torenze decides I’ve been stretched enough by his slave, I see him pick up the speculum and I try not to wince. I know it won’t hurt that bad, but it will be terribly uncomfortable.

“We need to get you nice and opened up,” Torenze reminds me, slowly working the tool into my ass.

I bite down on my lips. The cold metal is unpleasant, and it’s all I can do not to tense up, but I know that would only make it worse. It seems like hours before he slides it all the way in, and when he does, he slides it back out again, then in. He’s fucking me with it as I wait for him to open it up.

“Ever seen the little whore get used like this, bodyguard?” Torenze teases, giving the speculum a sudden twist that makes me yelp.

I glance up at Sy, suddenly wondering if I should have had him come. I hadn’t realized Torenze was going to use him as part of my humiliation.

“No, sir,” he replies. “It’s quite interesting, though. Thank you for letting me watch.”

I’m as thrown as Torenze is, and a little disturbed. There is so much I don’t know about Sy—is this really turning him on?

Before I have a chance to ponder it further, I feel the pressure as Torenze operates the tool, expanding it against the walls of my rectum. I force myself to relax, and as my body accommodates the intrusion, Torenze slowly starts working it in and out of me again. He manages to brush it against my prostate, distracting me from the pain. To my horror, I feel my cock getting hard. I try to will it away, but my struggles only make it worse. I hear Torenze snicker behind me.

“Has your loyal guard dog ever seen you rut like this?” Torenze asks, stopping his movements for a moment.

I feel a tremor going through my body. I remind myself that I don’t really enjoy this, that it’s just a sensation, but I still feel the shame of it. “No, sir,” I mumble.

“Well, then, let’s not block the view.”

Torenze guides me to lie on my back, careful of the tool wedged into my ass, and he instructs his slave to come and hold my legs up in the air. Not only is my ass presented in full view, my cock is as well, and it’s hard as a rock. When Torenze begins to slide the speculum in and out again, I barely manage not to cry out, but I’m not sure if it’s from pleasure or sheer mortification. I manage to open my eyes, and I see Sy looking on with what could only be described as amusement.

“You liking this, boy?” Torenze asks, giving Sy an irritated look.

“Absolutely loving it, sir,” Sy replies, a smile creeping onto his face. “I had no idea I was in for such a treat today. Such a pity my master forbids me from participating. You make him squirm so perfectly.”

The rough slap that Torenze delivers to my thigh barely distracts me from the shock and betrayal I feel. Sy has never given me any indication that he would enjoy this sort of thing; I can barely get him to give me a little slap in bed. I feel strangely betrayed, knowing he’s enjoying my torment.

Torenze must, too, because he yanks the speculum out of me and glares at Sy. “I didn’t realize I’d have competition when I made this arrangement,” he snaps, pouting like a child. “You stay out here. Sascha and I will be moving to the dungeon. I don’t want to hear a word from you or see your face until your master picks you up, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Sy replies, looking sad still. “Is there a bathroom where I can… take care of something?”

My jaw drops, both at the implication and at the boldness. Torenze is on his feet in a second, striding over to Sy and smacking him hard across the face with the speculum, leaving a few spots of blood on his cheek and chin.

“You can take care of that,” Torenze growls. “I said I wouldn’t break skin on the whore, not on you. Bitch to Cash about it and I’ll tell him what a disgusting pig you are.”

Sy just nods, the blood welling up in one of the cuts. Before he can say anything, Torenze grabs me by the hair and drags me to my feet.

“Fluffy, bring the supplies!” he calls, dragging me to the dungeon.

Fluffy jumps to do as he’s asked, and a part of me is certain that most, if not all, of the supplies are used on me. I block most of it out, trying to dissociate. It gets harder and harder the longer I go in between doing it, but Torenze is spectacular at drawing out those old fears and old habits. More than anything, I spend the next few hours playing Sy’s words and actions over and over again in my head. They don’t make sense. He’s never been interested in seeing me hurt; even if this is something he’s into, he knows who Torenze is, knows what he’s done to me. I think that maybe he just couldn’t take watching it, and while it hurts to think he enjoyed my pain, it almost hurts worse to think he abandoned me. The tears I cry for Torenze are real, but not because of the pain. I’m crying because, after this is over, I have no one left to turn to.

Chapter 31
Revelations

When I return to pick up my slaves, the first thing I notice is the cut on Sy’s face. I give him a questioning look.

“What the hell happened to you?” I demand.

He shakes his head. “Nothing to be concerned about, master. An accident.”

Torenze nods, like it’s true, and I have no choice but to agree and go along with it. I don’t like it, but if Sy got himself hurt, it was probably his own choice. Probably Sascha’s fault, but Sy’s choice to get involved. I won’t stand in the way of that.

I give Oliver a friendly smile. “Everything go as planned?”

He shrugs. “Boy seemed a little less lively than last time. Still had fun with him, though. You should be happy, he’s in a little bit of a better condition than he was last time.”

I nod, glancing at Sascha. Physically, at least, he seems better, but mentally… I’m almost more worried about him than I was last time. When I first left him with Oliver, he was desperate, terrified, and clingy when I came to retrieve him, weak and sick. Today, he’s just standing there, lifeless, like nothing matters. He glanced back and forth between me and Sy at first, but dropped his gaze, looking at the floor, instead. I need to get him home, where he’s safe, where I can comfort him or at least allow Sy to.

“Well, I’d better get him home and cleaned up,” I mutter, turning and heading out the door. “Are you ever going to agree to a public appearance with me? It would really help my case.”

Oliver smiles. “When the right time comes,” he assures me.

We leave, and I keep watching Sascha out of the corner of my eye as we drive home. He doesn’t say anything, and when I ask how he is, he just shrugs.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. “It doesn’t matter.”

Since Sascha has decided to act like a sullen child, I glance at Sy in the rearview mirror. “What the fuck did Torenze do to him?”

Syrus looks back at me, a puzzled expression on his face. “Some medical stuff, humiliation… maybe fisted him.”

“Shut up,” Sascha snaps. “I don’t want to hear you talk about it.”

I’m surprised, but Sy just continues filling me in, without the details. “He didn’t do anything that violated your agreement, and—”

“How would you know?” Sascha cuts him off. “You weren’t even fucking there! You’re the one who said you could handle it, and you’re the one who made sure he didn’t want you there.”

I’m stunned to see Sascha so angry, so hurt. It’s rare that anyone but me provokes this sort of response, and when it’s me, he’s usually a little more reserved on account of our respective statuses.

“Sascha, I need to talk with you when we get home,” Sy says, his voice quiet and calm despite the conflict. “I have something important I need to tell you.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Sascha snaps back. “Go jerk off in your locked room for all I care.”

I’m startled when something zooms past my head, more startled when I hear a thump, followed by a startled yelp from Sascha. I look over and see Sascha with a tablet in his lap, Sy pushing it back as Sascha tries to return it.

“Is that my tablet?” I ask, surprised. I haven’t been able to find it all day; I thought maybe Sascha had borrowed it for something for the project.

“Yes,” Sy confirms, seemingly unbothered by petty theft. “I would have taken Sascha’s, but I figured yours would be easier to get into.”

I frown as we turn down our street. “Why do you have my tablet?” I ask, trying not to jump to conclusions. The man knows full well that he’s one of my suspects; this action should rightfully signal his death. Only the illogic of the activity prevents me from believing it.

“Oliver Torenze is the one who leaked the information about you,” Sy explains. “I had hoped that Sascha would be able to piece together what I copied from his tablet today and explain it to you, but he’s not cooperating.”

I park the hov-car before turning around to stare at Sy. “You did what?”

“I arranged for Mr. Torenze to leave me alone in his home for a long period of time,” Sy says. “I stole your tablet this morning after you asked me to wait by the front door. I used it to connect to Mr. Torenze’s tablet after confirming my own suspicions that he was actually the one who betrayed you. Once I looked through his tablet and saw his correspondence with various reporters, as well as with investors, I made a copy of everything on it. It’s encrypted, but I figured Sascha would get through it pretty easily.”

The revelation stuns me. “How the hell do you know how to do that?” I ask him. I don’t reveal that I probably don’t have the skill to accomplish such a task.

“I was the slave of an organized crime boss for many years, sir,” Sy explains, shrugging like it’s nothing. “I learned a lot of useful skills.”

Silently, we go inside, sitting around the dining room table. Sascha looks less broken now, and more confused, which I can understand. He doesn’t say anything; he just takes my tablet and starts to search through the information. I recognize my own screen for only a few minutes, and then a series of numbers and symbols pop up and I’m lost. Sascha gets a little smile on his face, though, and I know he’s onto something. He glances at me like he’s suddenly aware that I can be useful.

“Get me my tablet?” he asks, engrossed in whatever he’s tapping at.

I do as he’s asked; it’s strange, perhaps, to obey the requests of a slave, but I’m happy to indulge him. Even more, I want to see what he finds.

I no sooner hand it to him before he links the two; with the mess on my screen, I have no idea how, but he does it, and soon, another set of symbols appear on his. Seemingly satisfied, he sets them both aside, allowing the proximity technology to link them and do whatever it is he’s doing with the data. I sit, waiting for his next move.