Masquerade

In chains for petty bondage

On the other side of land bore a dully lit embankment of mud and animal bile.  Though seemingly enough the stench from the land wasn't far as bad as what the course way offered. More so the smell of what you'd expect a mixture of horse dropping and mud to be like. The water behind, glistened hypnotically, with it's green,mossy foam that lapped against the shore. A rotten place, anyone would have thought. 

A large drag trail had been left behind,along with a set of wet footprints that trudged up the bank. Shay lay, distraught under the feet of a well built man dressed in a three piece suit; slightly dampened from the chest down. Shay tried to get up, only to be 'dead legged' (kicked just bellow the back of the knee) and, landing face first into the mud once again.
The man carried on him, a badge at his chest. "Sargent heir" and in smaller, golden printed letters 'To gunsmith, Lay and the right to bare arms. Dutch national forces."

"You know how long it took a boy like me to save up his Euro's to buy this suit? A lot..and only to have it ruined by  a fucker who doesn't know what a boat is , to drag his ass to shore, ruining the fine tailor in a salt and chloride mixture in the fine depths of England, equally as comparable to Wolver-fucking-Hampton?" The man spat.
"WOLVERHAMPTON?" Shay stumbled to his feet, laughing.  "This' Jade Avon, not da wannabe-Black-Country! "

Shay narrowed his eyes, curling his lip out at he stood before him, who, now studying him in more detail, seemed to also sport the long, black haired look with a pale skinned complexion.
"Happy fucking birthday-could I add for fucking yesterday?" He seemed to have a slight obsession with swearing. "Happy 27th at that. Considering it was mine not to long ago and no one came and wished me one." The man said.
"'S 'cause no one likes ya, Jaybird." said Shay.

The two of them started to shiver as the heart of night sank bellow the lines of a late rising sun. It's yellow rays,instead of making the area seem warmer, seem colder.
"There's a pub not far from here. We'll rest there and discuss business and why I'm actually here. As... No one could truly care for you neither, Mr Gray? A lonely vibe does seem to sweep your soul." He waved a hand to call as he walked. "all the more appetizing. "

As prestigious as a man, Jaybird Rosathelt contrary to the popular belief of catholisism- despite not being a creature from the religion itself. "he loved it!" He claimed "The wanna-be monks of the first world country dancing on stripper poles down in the Cock." Which was.....inevitably a huge strip club in London...
"I'd like to take you to live in such a place Baby, we'd get lap dances for free." His incredibly dreaded walk with slouching posture didn't compliment his absolute cockiness and warped vision of the "nuns" of London, though Shay became more disturbed as he went on to talk about the only school in London from the 18th century..... An all boys, Catholic school that was.

"Delusional fuckhead." Shay spat directly at him.
"Look on the bright Side Shay! See a few of your friends work there...one of the guys you know? " Jay growled. " The slutty one with the hips and gorgeous face that makes you want to go gay."

Shay knew, in the slightest detail of whom he was talking about, though kept quite due to the mass amount of stares that had been shot their way as they entered the Hen-House. A small, old country looking pub of little interest to him. Jaybird had shot off for the county and already had two pints of Whiskey awaiting them. Shay sat down next to him.

"Nice gun!" Jaybird said to the bar-host, pointing to a large gun atop the counter.
"Aye, old first make shotgon that is. Purdy ain't it?" Asked the Bar-tendant.

" What callibre? How bigs the barrel? HOW MANY BULLETS?"

Jaybird's bombardment of questions had left the bartender in a little state of shock and confusion. Yet it gave Shay enough time to down the whiskey and pour another drink for himself while they both weren't looking. "But on a serious note, that things sexy! NOW!" Jaybird cleared his throat, then looked over at Shay, reaching a hand out as he swayed back a little. Shay's eyes widened as his vision became slightly askew, only slightly. After all his second drink was gone to the last drop.

"Well since you're fucked over this should now make my job a little more easier." Said Jaybird
"What job?" Asked Shay

" A manager at an old psychiatric clinic...it's shut now but he got into contact with you a few days ago regarding a patient he was rather concerned for. Someone you know! Shayden, I didn't want to bother you but this contract is slightly different than your average mental care trainer looking after a psycho in a straight jacket."
Shay tilted his head "You can't get worse tha-"
" It's a consultation through BDSM contract, mr Gray. And guess who's your partner?"

.....
((((I'll finish it off later...
The story itself isn't told from a beginning stance. I'll leave that for a later series but more so in the middle. Per-say, many of you may be confused as to the relations between these two men. However, it'll come clearly evident in the future.
This chapter is not finished
PS: Anyone getting the joke about the Black-Country deserves a thumbs up. And a soft stick shoved up their ass cheeks.

I took mine out a long time ago.

If you're offended.

Then why the fuck did you read this?!

Sex,Gore and ethnical comedy was listed in the title.

So just don't. Asshole.)))