Pretty Girls Don't Cry

Chapter Four

Pete watched through the mirror as Vegas walked back to the dresser to look over the tools he had laid out. He stood spread eagle, each limb bound tight by the cuffs and the chains. Vegas knew the settings to perfection. He never miscalculated. He was posed tight, the chains barely moving an inch. The sounds of the rattling chains and the tightness of the restraints tied a knot in his chest. He looked down at his erection and he felt embarrassed at how obvious his arousal was.

Pete had always known that something was different about him. He just didn't quite understand how or why. Sex was good, a pleasant experience with a girl he was attracted to. It wasn't until he experienced the difference that he finally understood.

Vegas made his body buzz. Pulsing with a need that bordered on delirium. He realized he enjoyed pleasure, but was never quite satisfied. The first time with Vegas was a nuclear explosion. Pete felt trapped in a trance. His body was in shambles, completely wrecked by the torture. He had fought Vegas with everything that he possibly could, but something snapped. He was aware that the moment he kissed Vegas, the torture he had endured mutated into a sick and twisted type of foreplay.

Pete related and was weakened by the revelation that the beast who held him captive was nothing but a broken and lonely man. A puppet whose strings were controlled by his father. Vegas needed control because he was never allowed to have any. Vegas couldn't love because he had no idea how. He only knew devotion and loyalty. The only love he had experienced either abandoned him or came with strict conditions.

When Vegas offered him perversion, a taste of dark desires and distorted pleasures, Pete couldn't help but give in. Every ounce of him wanted a taste, a junkie looking for a stronger high. Vegas pulled back a curtain and introduced Pete to a world unlike any other. A darker world, where pleasure came with a sting. It overrode every other sensation, any previous touch wiped away like it never existed.

A soft patting sound brought Pete out of his memory. Vegas had thrown a whip over his shoulder. It was light brown leather. Pete's breath quickened, his heart a loud drum in his chest. When Vegas turned and met his eyes through the mirror, Pete gasped.

Vegas was a sadist. He had a vague idea of why he was, but didn't give it too much thought. He understood only one simple reason; he hurt others because of his own pain. Pete had changed that. The man he held captive for ruining his plans and stealing information did not suffer from the pain he inflicted, instead, he reveled in it. The harder he pushed, the more his supposed victim pushed back, and the power dynamic he was used to became null and void.

Pete wasn't breakable through physical means. It took Vegas days to figure it out. Though half way in he wasn't really trying. Instead, he found himself playing with his catch. Trying different ways to hurt him, enjoying how his body would react when his eyes would narrow or a smirk would peek through. Things got blurry really quickly. When he woke to find Pete gone, he was pretty sure the pain he felt was greater than anything he had ever inflicted.

As Vegas approached his lover again, he felt a hunger that was so perverse it twisted at his stomach. He looked at those long bare legs. The tiny bruises he left were not enough. Obviously he had seen Pete undressed many times before, but his small waist looked extra small with that skimpy dress. The exposed back really set him off. When Paitoon had reached to touch it, he had seen red. At the memory, he reached to place his palm on the center of Pete's back. He was rewarded with a jump and a sigh.

Pete was always so warm. Vegas let the warmth run through him, light him up from the inside. There was a soft smirk on his mouth as he glided his hand up and then down. He slid the hand inside the hem of the dress.

Vegas squeezed at Pete's buttocks and smirked at the soft moan he heard. It was a painful grip, one buttock and then the other, but his lover threw his head back in ecstasy. Vegas reached in his back pocket to pull out his knife. A small click and the blade snapped out. Pete's head straightened, he knew that sound and it brought back his attention.