Silent Ground: Part 1

by Quil Carter

  Kheva’s lips shifted and brushed against the tightened bands that were Sasha’s. Then, with their eyes locked, green and gold against blue, Kheva pressed his lips into Sasha’s.

  Sasha’s eyes shut tight, his body trembling from fear. With every inhale he took, it was as if Kheva was waiting to suck the very breath out of his lungs. He wouldn’t even allow him that. Not even air came without strings in Ciel Lake.

  Kheva’s lips moved, and Sasha knew he had no choice but to reciprocate. One of the first mistakes he’d made was rejecting a kiss from the Master, and after the stunt he’d pulled attempting to escape, and the resource he’d wasted… he didn’t dare cause any more problems.

  But there was something else. Sasha remembered a fact that Kheva had told him. That a kiss could satiate the migraine for hours. For a moment, Sasha’s pride gave a flare of resistance, but with a muffled whine, he obediently opened his lips and began to kiss Kheva back.

  Sasha felt Kheva’s tongue edge against his lips, and without hesitation, Sasha accepted. With the thought of getting a break from the agony overshadowing the wraithed remains of his pride and resistance, their tongues met and played with each other, and Sasha let the antidote do its work on his head.

  And during the kiss, his heartbeat slowed, his muscles softened, and he became lost in the moment, all physical objects around him becoming blurs of their colours with their shapes lost.

  After an unknown amount of time, Kheva separated their lips and their tongues. Sasha’s eyes slowly opened, fireworks blasting inside of his chest, and his eyes joined again with Kheva’s.

  “See?” Kheva murmured. “It doesn’t have to be a bad experience, doesn’t it?” He slid a hand along the side of Sasha’s flushed neck, then curled it around the nape and pulled him closer.

  Then he whispered in his ear. “Unfortunately for you though, my naughty little nightcrawler,” he whispered. “I have no plans of making this a good experience for you.”

  Sasha recoiled away, the blissful warmth that the kiss had filled him with draining like his mind had become a sieve. “I’ll be good,” he said, his tone pleading. “I’ll restock it… just give me a few days. Please, you don’t have to – you don’t have to do that again.” He began to back away, Kheva’s lips curling in a loaded smirk. “I promise, I’ll… I’ll restock it. You don’t have to do that aga-” Sasha gasped when his back hit something hard. He whirled around and came face-to-face with Kel, a matching smile on his face.

  Fear.

  There were no other emotions attached to that feeling, it was pure, an undiluted alcohol made from the finest grains. A high-grade that would be marvelled at, graded and given an award.

  Pure fear.

  “Kheva…” Sasha said nervously. He felt embarrassment over the burning behind his eyes, but he knew he would be too scared to scream. “Come on…” What the fuck could he say? Was he supposed to plead? Bargain? This was fucking Kheva Swift, there was no deterring him from what he had in mind. Especially now, why would he? Sasha had fucked up and he knew it.

  Kheva walked to him and Sasha found himself unable to move, his feet growing heavy and rooting themselves to the floor. Who usually made the first move? The wolves that circled, or the deer that looked around desperately for any escape.

  “Keluva?”

  “Yes, Master?”

  ‘Run!’ Rob yelled his tone harsh. ‘For fuck sakes, kid. Run!’

  Where? I already ran and look where it got me! Sasha said hysterical. Where can I run?

  ‘I don’t fucking know, JUST DO SOMETHING!’

  “Keluva… bring Sasha upstairs. I will fetch my briefcase.”

  And just like that, with no plan in his head besides getting as far away from them as he could––Sasha bolted.

  No one would expect that Sasha would get far.

  And they’d be right.

  Sasha made it to the porch, and touched his feet to the cold grassy ground, but with his eyes fixed towards the dark outlines of trees and a fierce surge of determination foolishly filling him with hope––he was tackled.

  A scream burst from Sasha’s lips as he fell to the ground, then Kel jumped, then pounced, onto his back with a gleeful laugh.

  Sasha met the ground with a hard impact, the air blasting out of his lungs and his head momentarily spinning like a spun top. He coughed and gasped as Kel crawled off of him, the fall making him unable to fight off Kel as the man rolled him onto his back.

  “You’re so bad,” Kel whispered above him. Sasha stared up at the sky, the stars a brilliant splash of silver that his old town could never show him. He tried to ignore Kel as the man looked down at him, but his head was hovering over his.

  “So bad.” Kel leaned down, and Sasha tried to move his face away when Kel began to kiss his lips. “Kiss me like you kissed Kheva,” he murmured. A hand brushed around the rim of Sasha’s pants, and as he released another whine, that hand slipped underneath the thick fabric, then the elastic band of his briefs.

  Sasha became consumed with Kel. With his head spinning in circles and his lungs struggling for breath, Kel began to kiss and lick his lips, trying to force out an intimate kiss that Sasha was in no position to reciprocate.

  And while Kel kissed him, his hand grasped Sasha’s genitals and began to knead them. Sasha choked, and began a feeble attempt to get away from the nightcrawler, but he was frozen, not just by Kel on top of him, but by the dizzying world that still spun around him like a washing machine.

  “Keluva?” Sasha heard Kheva call. “Bring him in.”

  Kel released a child-like giggle, then continued to grasp and knead Sasha’s testicles. “I’m happy you tried to escape,” Kel whispered. “This is going to be fun.”

  Sasha cried out when Kel picked him up, his mind reeling, going over every possible means he had of escape. But there was nothing. No one would save him, not in this moment, not now.

  Eventually, with the help of Rob and that mysterious place inside of his mind that could hide things from Kheva. But not now…

  Right now––He was fucked.

  Kel held Sasha in his arms, the full-grown male seemingly weightless in his hold. Sasha tried to struggle out of his grasp when Kel walked towards the stairs, uneasy with being held while walking up them, but Kel only tightened his grip and climbed with ease to a room that had always been closed off.

  Sasha successfully held back the dry sobs, but the small choked gasps were still coming. His chest was painful from Kel pouncing on him, and his heart was a relentless hammer against echoing steel.

  But even though his body was sore and his lungs feeling like an empty balloon not yet inflated, when he saw Kheva, and what he was standing in front of, the physical discomfort vanished and only the imbedded terror remained.

  Kheva was standing inside of a sparsely furnished room lit only by tea lights. He was dressed in the black robes that he and Kel had been wearing the first day they’d met, and jumped, Sasha, and behind him, stretched out on a polished credenza in between candles, were an arrangement of small, sharp knives, all of them silver, and several silver flasks with Celtic-like designs carved into them.

  There were also towels folded up on top of a wicker basket, but besides that… there was only two indoor loungers pushed together in the center of the room, and a large red shag rug that left only two feet of hardwood in all directions.

  Nothing else was in this room but… ornaments on the walls, some sort of…

  Sasha stared at the shadowed thing he couldn’t make out. He shifted, Kel finally releasing him from his grasp, and walked to it.

  His heart fell to the floor.

  Chains.

  Bolted to the wall were chains that led to leather cuffs, and above them, more cuffs affixed to the wall.

  Sasha turned and swept the room with his gaze. There was an small open chest made of wood on the other side of the room, and above it, dangling down like dead vines… were a variety of whips, leather harnesses, nylon rope, and things he didn’t
recognize.

  As the horror came to him, he made the mistake of looking deeper into the small trunk these things dangled above, and saw that it was filled with sex toys.

  This is some sort of fucking sex dungeon.

  Kheva laughed, that low altitude laugh that made every hair on Sasha’s head prickle.

  “That is exactly what it is, my love.”

  Sasha stared, unable to move. He knew he should turn and make a break for it, but this living nightmare was making his body as useless as sleep paralysis. His legs refused to function, his body ceased to turn, the only thing that worked besides his racing mind, was a mouth that could only open and close like a guppy’s.

  Behind him, the door closed. Sasha heard it lock, then Kel emerged from behind him with his shirt already being drawn over his head. The half-sane nightcrawler waited as Kheva fetched a dark bundle from a tallboy dresser, and bowed his head when it was given to him.

  “Please, Kheva,” Sasha whined. He could feel the baritone thumps his pulse was making as it thrashed, each hit vibrating his bones like it was inside an empty aluminum canister. “I can’t take this again. Fuck, please. Please, Master.”

  Kheva glided over to him, the hood of the black robes drawn down. His eyes glowed in the dim candlelight, more than a human’s eyes should. One more nudge towards Sasha’s growing theory that Kheva Swift was no man, but a demon that had crawled its way up from the deepest circles of Hell.

  As Kheva approached, Sasha stepped backwards until his back hit the closed door. He choked, his panic snatching away every draw of breath that his lungs desperately inhaled.

  Sasha expected a physical hit, or some sort of vapid remark, but Kheva’s shining eyes held no veiled anger, and that reality was brought to his face in the form of a wayward smile.

  “Why are you scared, little nightcrawler?” Kheva leaned into Sasha as he said this, his tone a cold wind during a sunny spring day. “What are you scared of?”

  Visibly shaking, Sasha stared back at Kheva, a shudder on every breath that left his lips. He didn’t want to say it, thinking it should be enough, but he had some faint strands of hope that if he was honest––The Master would help him.

  “I don’t want to be raped again,” Sasha said, his voice timid and fearful. “It was terrifying. I have nightmares because of it… I’m even more scared than I was before. It’s… it’s not helping me, it’s not training me. Please, please just… don’t do that. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t do that to me.”

  Kheva made a clucking noise with his tongue. “Poor nightcrawler,” he whispered. He raised a hand and smoothed back Sasha’s short black hair. “You really don’t get it, do you?” Kheva leaned in and rested his forehead against Sasha’s. He gently tilted his head from right to left, his entire face smiling.

  “Terror… is the key.”

  Terror is the key?

  Terror is… the key?

  “Grab him, Keluva.”

  Sasha looked behind Kheva. He saw Kel closing in on him, four strips of thin nylon rope in his hands, and like a wounded animal, he screamed.

  And if terror was the key, Sasha was delivering. As Kel and Kheva both grabbed him and yanked him forward, he thrashed and kicked, dug in his socked feet and tried with every ounce of strength to break free of their holds. He was terrified, a fear that surpassed even the horror that went on the first night Kel raped him, the first night Kheva forced himself between his legs. Sasha had never experienced such an all-consuming terror, and he felt as if his mind was going to break to pieces in front of him.

  Quickly he was stripped of all clothing. Their hands were everywhere, grabbing his shirt, his pants, Sasha struggled and tried to grab the clothing back, but they were fast. He didn’t stand a chance.

  Sasha tried to rake Kel’s hands with his nails as the man grabbed his black briefs and attempted to pull them away, but with the distraction, Kheva snatched the cloth, and with a feeling of cold metal and a snip––Sasha realized Kheva had cut the briefs right off of him.

  A pain suddenly burst from behind Sasha’s eyes, enough for him to gasp and grab his head. Even with the shared kiss not too long ago, the powerful migraine had been irritated enough to return with a shocking vengeance.

  Sasha stood against the door naked and shivering, the pain on par with the panic that gripped him. He wrapped his arms around his skinny body and trembled, trying to both stifle his cries of fear and steady his breathing. When Kheva advanced on him again, there was another scream, and he fought with them as they pulled Sasha towards the pushed-together lounger.

  Sasha was slammed onto his knees in front of the black lounger, then, as he struggled to rise, Kheva stepped over him and sat down on the lounger, one leg on each side.

  “Shhh, calm down,” Kheva said, his soothing voice so out of place it was like a romantic movie being dubbed over a horror flick. “Calm down.” He placed his hands on Sasha’s shoulders to pin him down, and when Sasha tried to raise his arms to shift his shoulders away, Kheva instead snatched them and held his wrists tight.

  “No! NO!” Sasha screamed. He tried to twist his body away from Kel, now coming up behind him, but Kel held his hips as Kheva held his wrists.

  “Sasha,” Kheva said calmly. Sasha looked up at him, terror making his eyes dry but wide open and bright. And Kheva smiled. “It’ll be okay.”

  “No…” Sasha cried, and though he tried to fight them, tears began to drip down his cheeks. “No, please. No––NO!” The last one came as a scream, a scream that soon dissolved into sobs as he felt Kel’s lubricated finger rub against his opening. He bowed his head, tears dripping down onto Kheva’s hands and leaned his forehead against them.

  Then Sasha felt the hard tip of the shaft press against his hole. This shot panic through him, and he recoiled away from Kel and tried to lie down on his side to prevent him access.

  Kheva’s hands clenched around his wrists. “Hit him,” he said, his tone cold.

  Sasha screamed before Kel’s hand even rose and he cowered down. Kel dealt him a hard hit against the side of his head, one that sent a surge of blinding pain through his skull and made the migraine go from severe to unbearable.

  And while the pain rocked him, Kel grabbed Sasha’s hips and pulled him back into a kneeling position. Sasha’s head bowed, his forehead touching the Master’s hands, and heard Kheva say to Kel. “Do it.”

  The penetration had Sasha crying out, his and Kheva’s hands soaked in tears. He clenched his teeth hard, trying to bite through the intense pressure and feeling of being stretched beyond capacity, and shut his eyes tight.

  I can’t do this again. I can’t go through this again.

  Is this all they want me for? I’m just their fuck-toy?

  “Shhh, it’s okay,” Kheva whispered. Sasha felt Kel withdrawal almost completely out of him, then the return of the sensation of thick girth as he slid himself back in.

  Then Kheva’s voice switched from the deceptively calm tone, to hard and cold. “Faster,” he said.

  Kel’s response was immediate. His thrusts quickened as his hips began to buck into Sasha, rapidly and without pause. This brought out a teeth-clenched cry, and Sasha’s hands grasped Kheva’s tight.

  Kheva was holding his hands now, not his wrists. Sasha didn’t care, he squeezed them as hard as he could, the fiery pain as Kel fucked him more than he could bear.

  I can’t handle this anymore. I can’t have this be my life now.

  Kheva released their hands, making Sasha have to grasp the cushion of the lounger between Kheva’s legs to keep himself upright. He opened his eyes, Kel groaning in tandem with the thrusts behind him, and his eyes widened when he saw Kheva pick up one of the long silver knives. The Master held the knife to Sasha’s arm, near the wound that he’d removed the stitches from while he was locked inside the shed.

  “No…” Sasha whined, tears sticking to his eyelashes.

  Kheva looked down at him, his eyes cold, and in a quick yet precise motion, he stabb
ed Sasha’s arm.

  Sasha didn’t even scream. He stared helplessly at the puncture, the small yet deep wound appearing pale white for a brief moment, before filling up with blood, and shut his eyes tight as his face crumpled.

  Then Kheva patted his face, urging Sasha to open his eyes. With Kel’s moans a steady beat behind him, and the stretched pressure sending pain signal after pain signal to his brain, Sasha opened his eyes and saw in front of him––Kheva’s own bleeding arm.

  And the hand wasn’t empty, Kheva was grasping a silver flask. “Put this over your wound,” he commanded. Sasha grabbed it, his hand unsteady from Kel knocking up against his body, and he placed it over the dripping puncture.

  Then Kheva offered him his own arm. “Take it,” he said. There was still no wavering in his frozen tone, holding not even the slightest shred of emotion.

  Sasha didn’t hesitate. He needed to get rid of the migraine. The pain in his head coupled with Kel’s enthusiastic thrusts had him wishing for death, any reprieve from the living nightmare he’d found himself in.

  Sasha put his lips to the wound. The taste of iron and copper filled his mouth but no longer did he recoil at the taste, instead his brain flooded him with endorphins. Sasha began to suck on the wound, and as he drank, he felt Kheva’s hand rest against the back of his head.

  And the Master began to soothe him. He stroked back Sasha’s hair, ran his fingers through it, and when Sasha glanced up, he saw those cold drops of jade and gold stare down at him. There was no softness in his eyes, but there was something else there––Sasha couldn’t put his finger on it, nor was he in the state to search his brain. All he cared about was that the blood was distracting him from the pain behind him, and small victories were all the Master would allow him.

  Kel’s speed quickened, and his gasping moans sounded closer together. “Master?” Kel said breathlessly in between sharp inhales.