Validation (A Cricky Fan Fiction)(REWRITING.)

XIII

|JetFuel|
|1103|
Pictures above of the penthouse.

The two stepped out of the elevator that led right to Chris' main room. Ricky walked slowly alongside Chris as he inspected the huge room that stood before him. Artwork and instruments were strung on the walls. Along with band memorabilia and other details.

"Would you like a drink?" Chris offered.

"Uh, yes please." Ricky replied, still in awe over the intricate artwork and instruments that aligned the walls.

But what he did take a huge gulp over, was the view of the city from the top floor. The inverted colour scheme of the walls against the bright lights of the city had an absolutely stunning contrast between the two. Even with the house lights on, it was still beautiful.

A grand piano stood next to one of the many panels of glass that decorated the room. The beautiful, intricate detail of the black damask carving in the wood was enough to rethink everything he did wrong with his money.

Dark red LED lights lay underneath every step in sight, giving the rooms a lot more of an evil feel than it was intended to be. The white quartz floors showed off his worth, but still managed to sparkle under the lights. But the best part of the whole house was the black and white glass spiral staircase that led to the second floor of the penthouse. The steps themselves were granite and obsidian, but the dead tree detailing that ran all the way up the staircase walls were amazing.

Ricky walked over to the grand piano, grazing his hand along the side. He felt every ridge and bump of the carvings run under his fingers.

"You play?" Ricky shouted, unaware of where Chris was.

Of course he plays, idiot. Why else would he have a piano. He scolded himself.

"Oh, yeah. I'm not the best but I can carry a tune. My friend Balz, though. He plays the keys like a beast. I know it's not really a thing you can 'go hard' on, so to speak, but he has found a way." Chris said as he walked over with two gothic wine glasses and a bottle of Frontièr Blanc. The wine glasses were glass, on the inside at least. The outside was a lightweight porcelain with detailed dragons and crosses. All black of course.

"Here." Chris said, passing the glass to Ricky. "It's non-alcoholic. I tend to refrain myself from alcohol or drugs."

Ricky nodded, taking all of the new information in.

"Oh, what's this?" Ricky asked about the paper form in front of him.

"It's a non-disclosure agreement." Chris said as he sat down in the chair. "It means that you can't discuss anything about us to anyone. I'm afraid my lawyer insists on it."

"I'd never talk to anyone about us anyways." Ricky said as he signed the paper.

"So are you going to make love to me?" Ricky said quietly, almost in a whisper. He shied away when Chris chuckled darkly. He leaned in closer to Ricky's face.

"Two things. I don't make love, I fuck. Hard."

"A-and the second t-thing?"

Chris leaned back and held his shaky hand out.

"Come." He ordered.

Ricky was hesitant, but still grabbed it. Chris pulled Ricky gently up the stairs and through a hallway. They turned a corner into another hallway and stopped at the first door. He let go of Chris' hand and turned to the door.

"It's behind this door."

"What's behind the door?"

"My play room."

"Like your PlayStation and stuff?"

Chris said nothing, but pulled out a key from his pocket. Ricky was confused on why he would keep his consoles and games locked up, but it wasn't his place to ask. Before he unlocked the door, he opened his mouth.

"It's important that you know you can leave at anytime."

"W-why? What's in there?"

"I mean what I said, the helicopter in on standby to take you if you want to g-"

"Chris, just open the damn door."

Chris turned and placed the key in the lock, turning it until a click echoed through the hall. He turned the doorknob and walked in, turning on the lights before the reached the step. Ricky stood in the doorway, adamant to why he really had to sign that form. The lights increased their brightness, and Ricky did not expect what was in front of him.

A red crushed velvet covered room with a massive bed in the middle. Shelves and cabinets lined with whips, gags, handcuffs and canes. A red leather couch and a long balance beam sat on either side on the room. A single loop hung from the ceiling, but something tells Ricky it isn't used for gymnastics.

"Oh my god." Ricky whispered under his breath.

His breath started to quicken as he walked closer to the rack of whips. He heard a click behind him, seeing that Chris locked and closed the door.

There's no escaping now.

The sentence Chris said earlier repeated through his head over and over again. He reached his arm forward and touched one of the various whips that hung on the rack, feeling the thick strips of leather underneath his fingertips.

"That's called a flogger." Chris said from behind him, making Ricky jump as he realised how close he was.

Ricky walked over to the canes, again grazing his hand over the wood.

"Please, say something." Chris pleaded.

Ricky turned to face him, adamant to actually saying something because it might come out as offensive and rude.

"D-do people do this to you or do you d-"

"I do this to people. With people."

Ricky walked to the front of the bed, thinking of what possible things he could be.

"You're a sadist?" Ricky spat.

"I'm a dominant."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I want you to willingly submit yourself to me."

Ricky chuckled dryly before responding.

"And why would I do that?"

"To please me." Chris stated, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"To please you?" Ricky gasped, almost like it was unexpected. "How?" He continued.

"I have rules. If you follow them, I'll reward you. If you don't, I'll punish you."

"You'd punish me with, all of this stuff?"

"Yes."

"And what exactly do I get out of this?"

"Me."