Black Widower 3: Life's A Bitch, Then You Die

 

Someone's going to die tonight, Angelo cheerfully thought to himself. Not Flin, unfortunately Ardoin had already seen to that when he woke up Angelo earlier this morning. Actually he didn't quite wake Angelo, he was an early riser, earlier then most juicers, awakening just as the sun set. However, sometimes it took him awhile for his body to wake up and he liked to lie in bed and wake up gradually, taking his sweet time. He didn't appreciate being shaken awake. But Ardoin had other ideas....

(There are some loose ends you need to tie up.) Ardoin had said, ignoring the irritation on Angelo's face.

He tried to protest. (I have a newborn to look after. A hungry newborn who has no idea of the rules of the hunt. I don't have time to clean up your mess now.)

(Then you'll be expedient, won't you.)

If it had been anyone else, Angelo would have gladly told him what to do with that comment. But Ardoin was Broodmaster and Angelo served him. Willingly. Mostly because he thought it was in his best interest. So, he swallowed his anger and asked Ardoin what loose ends needed tying up.

Apparently the mess was Angelo's, only he wasn't sure what Ardoin meant, though he had an idea.

(Don't play the innocent with me, Lambrakis!)

Angelo winced at the use of his family name. He hated that almost as much as being shaken awake.

Which was why Ardoin had done it in the first place. Only Angelo wasn't in the mood for it. He was slightly hungry himself, and still a little weakened fromthe night before. He finally told Ardoin to get him a drink, then they'd talk. Of course Ardoin was the boss. Then again he knew Angelo.

And when he left Angelo's room and returned moments later with a wine bottle filled with the same contents Angelo had been drinking when he met Weasel the night before, Angelo was not surprised. One part Sangria, rosemary and St. John's Wort for calm moods, stinging nettle to stop the enzymes in a juicer's blood from consuming their own blood, meadowsweet to soothe the cramping, coca leaves for a good buzz, and two parts juice

"Robine", or rotgut, as Angelo called it, was the nickname of the mixture Angelique had created to temporarily suppress the thirst.

Temporarily. It worked for several hours, but later the need came back tenfold, releasing the Tiger and making the ride more crazy and out of control unless you drank more of the elixir. Something Angelo had no intention of doing. Riding the Tiger was a delightful high, and the payoff was too luscious a pay-off to pass up.Which was why Angelo was known to drink rotgut and ride the Tiger on purpose. Not all the time, just when he was in a destructive mood.

Like tonight.

 

Angelo sat up in bed, wrapping the blanket around his naked body and after Ardoin had handed him the bottle, he offered it to Ardoin out of politeness. Who not so politely declined.

Fine with him. He took the bottle back, popped the cork with his teeth and spat it out before taking a long swig. Then he licked his lips and asked Ardoin to cut the mystery and tell him what he wanted him to do.

 

Ardoin, was not one for answering questions directly. (How long have you wanted your Weasel?)

Angelo was a bit taken aback but answered the question. (Since I saw him walking the streets, about a month ago.)

(And what did I say when you told me he was a Pet with a drug habit and you sensed he might be a Sleeper?)

Look but don't touch until Ardoin looked him over. Ardoin had gone over to Flin's stable as a prospective customer and had pretended he was interested in purchasing Weasel for the night, then declined stating the price was too high. Apparently the rumors of cannibalism, and his own senses had confirmed Angelo's hunch and he gave Angelo the approval to bring him into the fold.

With one catch. So when Ardoin's next question was, (What was that catch?) Angelo drained the rest of the bottle because he knew where Ardoin was leading, and he was powerless to do anything but answer.

(Weasel was a high priced Pet and I needed to buy him from Flin before doing anything.)

That was when Ardoin ripped the blanket from Angelo's body and hurled him to the floor because he didn't follow orders.
 

Being naked was no big deal to Angelo. Being naked when he could not use it to seduce made him very uncomfortable. And since Ardoin refused him the first night Angelo had tried to get him into bed, and several times after that, Angelo realized he had no power whatsoever over Ardoin. Which was why Ardoin refused him.Which was why Angelo ensured his indispensability by becoming the Broodmaster's clean-up expert.

 

(You couldn't wait!) Ardoin slapped Angelo's face hard enough to make his right cheek bleed, but Angelo refused the urge to lick the dripping blood. (And now your precious baby is a refugee, a stolen piece of property that Flin is probably ripping apart most of Sargot City to find and recover!) He grabbed Angelo by the arm and flung him against the wall hard enough to kill a Norm.
 

And to vibrate the wall.
 

Angelo just managed to hold back the tears of anger as he saw his prized music collection barrage the floor, the irreplaceable vinyl records, and compact discs splintering into little pieces.
 

(You have unfinished business to take care of. Immediately!) Ardoin thundered.
 

Despite his aching body, Angelo smiled.Until he was informed he was not to juice Flin. (Fine, I won't kill him,) Angelo compromised, (I'll just taste a little.)
 

To his relief, Ardoin didn't take another crack at him. Instead he sighed wearily and said that this was too personal for Angelo and that he wouldn't be able to stop from the first taste.Unfortunately, Angelo had to agree with him. But he was far from thrilled.
 

(Hungry Angelos are not happy Angelos,) he growled.
 

Then he could have his fun afterward. But not with Flin, any Pet, or even a Supe. At least not in Sargot City that night. Too risky after Flin had seen him, could endanger the Underground and the Nightchildren. Again, Angelo knew that Ardoin was right. However he didn't have to like it.

He asked if Ardoin was finished, knowing as soon as the Broodmaster, master of all the juicers, Nightchild and Stalker, moved slowly but surely towards Angelo that he was not done.

Not even close.

And as Ardoin held out his hand, Angelo knew exactly what was about to happen but as strong as his will was, Ardoin's was ever so stronger and it wasn't long before Angelo found his own hand reaching for Ardoin's wrist and bringing it to his own lips in the ultimate act of submission.

He tried to fight Ardoin but it was no use, Angelo's teeth were already puncturing Ardoin's inner wrist, viscous cold liquid filling his mouth and it took everything in him to swallow the ruby poison instead of gagging. And not to fight his own reflexes as he bit deeper when the original flow stopped, sucking harder and drinking. To his body, blood was blood.

Mercifully, it only lasted a few minutes, though it seemed like an eternity until Ardoin stopped the flow and pulled his wrist free. It was coming back up, burning his throat, and he forced himself to swallow it back down and not puke.

Rape would have been less invasive. And less humiliating. Ardoin had just forced a bond between them. And he would have all the power. It would last only until it was no longer in Angelo's veins, until it was replaced by other blood, but it would be long enough for Ardoin to keep tabs on him.

Which was why now, after getting up and cleaning the mess Ardoin's tantrum had left, Angelo was here now, standing outside the main entrance of Flin's highrise, staring at the doorman.

Waiting.....



He couldn't track him!

Flin's prized Pet had run away and he had no idea where! It had beentwenty four hours since Weasel had stumbled out the door.

And out of his life.

Where the hell could he be? Surely any other Pet or Keeper who happened to see Weasel would have brought him back to Flin. Or at least would have let him know. Surely. Unless a Keeper had decided to steal Flin's property. The very thought made the veins pop out at his neck.

But then again, any Keeper would have fed the new Pet Emerald Dust,and Flin would be able to trace it. In fact, that was the purpose of Emerald Dust in the first place.

Under most circumstances, Supe parents brought their kids to be certified by the World Association of Supe Persons as Supes or Saps. Each had microchips implanted in their foreheads: diamond for Supes and onyx for Saps. Each were tracking devices, though for Saps it was a brand as well. If one ran away from a Workcamp, or their owner, WASP could automatically track the Sap down and capture it. Or subversive Supes.

However, there were those parents that knew their kids were Saps oreven mutants and rather than handing them over to WASP authorities, sold them as Pets to Keepers, or even set them free to roam. Such vermin were usually found and exterminated as traitors to the Supe community, but those without microchips, WASP had no way of tracing their spawn. In fact without a microchip, they officially didn't exist. They were ghosts, with nothing to identify them as the garbage they were.

WASP knew that beautiful young Ghosts often became Pets, and it was an unwritten agreement with Keepers that once they got tired of their Ghost Pets, they would immediately be turned over to a Workcamp, with the Keepers receiving compensation for lost revenue. And for the time they were Pets, Keepers could do whatever they wanted to do with them. Except kill them. The Keepers were only temporary owners, and wouldhave to pay a hefty fine it there was not a living Ghost to work to death in aWorkcamp.

Weasel had been a Ghost when Flin had found him five years ago, when he was no more then ten.

He remembered it as if it was yesterday. He had found Weasel, who wasnot called Weasel at the time, of course, wandering around the streets of Sargot City in a daze, naked and shivering.

He was the most beautiful creature Flin had ever seen. Blond, almost silvery blond hair, full ripe lips, feline features with a slightly pointed chin, and those eyes. Bright green irises, but clear like stained glass. He was slight in build, with his slender hips, but he had a sweet ass, like juicy apples. Made for biting.

He had rope burns on his wrists and legs, the last Keeper was probably into heavy bondage, and into pain, since Flin saw burns all over his chest and back.

Only the boy looked confused, the eyes were empty, flat. The pupils very dilated, almost overshadowing the whites, but not glassy, not drugged. Odd.

Well there was one way of finding out what was amiss. Flin entered theboy's mind. Nothing. His mind was as blank as a slate. Beautiful, this gorgeous ladhad some kind of amnesia, more than likely induced by a powerful telepath. Since Flin was a second rate telepath at best, he couldn't undo it even if he wanted to. Which he didn't. He'd found this prize, it was obviously heaven sent and he had found this fallen angel all to himself.

The boy started blankly at him, then started to walk away.

Flin waked after him, "Wait," he called out and miraculously the boystopped.

"What do you want?" the boy demanded.

Feisty. Good. "Where are you going?"

The boy shrugged. "I have no idea." He had a slight accent and his voice was almost musical.

Think fast Flin! "I'm the one you're trying to find, your mommy and daddy told me to take care of you after they passed on."

Tears filled the emerald eyes. "My dad and mom? Dead?"

This was Flin's cue. He threw an arm across the trembling shoulders. "I'm afraid so my dear. But a long time ago, I promised I'd look after you if anything happened to them. So when I heard the news, I knew you'd come looking for me."

The boy frowned. "How come I don't remember anything?"

Flin shook his head. "They thought it was better for you to start off fresh, so you wouldn't think of them and cry. They wiped out your memories, and they implanted a strong mental suggestion that you come to seek me." He hugged the little lamb. "Isn't it good we found each other?"

"I guess so." The boy was like a rag doll, letting himself go limp in Flin's arms.

Flin let his hands slide up and down the boy's back, then to his ass.

The boy jerked away. "Why are you doing that to me?"

Flin cupped his face in his hands. "Darling boy, I'm only trying to make you feel better. Didn't you like the way I touched you?"

The boy's face scrunched up in thought. "I'm not sure," he finally decided."It felt nice, but not nice."

"You poor thing, you're still confused. You don't remember how your mom and dad used to show they loved you."

Flin covered the boy's lips with his own, first kissing his mouth, then gently nudging it open with his tongue. To his shock, the boy seemed to take to it right way, kissing him back with a passion he wouldn't have expected.

Flin kissed him deeper, his hand's slipping to the boy's chest and sliding over his nipples.

The boy responded, moaning with pleasure, his probing tongue hot fire in Flin's mouth.

It was usually more fun when they struggled. But Flin could easily getused to this.

He broke the kiss. "Sweetie, you don't have a stitch of clothing on and we can have more fun at my place." He enveloped the boy in his arms and escorted him back to the penthouse.

Flin led him to the bathroom. "The first thing we're going to do is take a shower, get you nice and clean."

The boy's slightly sharp face and wild eyes made Flin think of a weasel, sleek and feral. Weasel. That's what he'd name the boy.

But not yet. He led the boy into the shower with him and turned on the filtered water, turning on hot and cold water. When the temperature was just right, Flin pulled the lever and activated the showerhead, leaving it in its home position for now.

Ah. He pumped some sweet smelling soap from the dispenser onto a washcloth and began to wash his Weasel. First the grimy face, up and down the cheeks, to the forehead, where Flin saw no microchip, wonderful, then behind his ears and neck, moving slowly towards his chest, his belly, not touching his penis yet, but scrubbing his thighs, his legs, then turning him around and washing his back, then finally his ass, where he lingered for awhile, enjoying the feel of Weasel's quivering globes.

Then he pumped more soap and spread it between the boys asscheek before gently entering him. He usually didn't bother with such niceties but hedidn't want to hurt the boy, especially after realizing the fragile creature was a virgin.

Flin ignored the screams of the boy, instead enjoying the tightness andthrusting deeper, increasing the cries of pain but the boy was going to have to learn sometime and it might as well be now. Hewrapped his arms around the boy's belly, grabbing his cock, pulling to him with each thrust, faster and faster, the blood oozing from Weasel's ass, making it slicker, much easier to slide in and out.

Then suddenly the screams were replaced by moans. Of pleasure.

Weasel started breathing heavily, his penis enlarged and erect. He was actually getting turned on by this. That was no fun at all. Flin felt himself wilt inside the boy's anus.

Strangely, Weasel's cock wilted as well. As if he were reacting in sympathy.

Or empathy. Mercy, the creature must be an empath.

He decided to test that theory. If he felt pain, the empath would feel it as well. To prove it, Flin smashed his hand against the tile wall. Throbbing pain moved from his hand, up his arm, to his shoulder, fuck, he must have broken his hand. Well, if this didn't do it, nothing would. He waited for Weasel's reaction.

And almost went into shock.

Though Flin was determined not to show his agony, he expected to see the poor thing curl up in anguish on the shower floor. Instead, the boy was smiling, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something so frightening in his expression that Flin nearly jumped out of the shower.

There was nothing human in that expression. He wasn't merely enjoying Flin's misery, it seemed to excite, arouse him. But not sexually. It was more like an animal's arousal. Predatory anticipation. The boy ran his tongue over his lips.

It got Flin hot. It scared the holy hell out of him.

Then, just like that, the boy returned to normal, his look, pure innocence just waiting to be defiled.

Flin had to get Weasel on Emerald Dust.

Now!

He threw an arm around the boy's waist and led him out of the shower, to the bedroom.

Since he spent most of his time there, the master bedroom was the most decorated room in the apartment, with its deep piled amethyst carpeting, the oak poster bed complete with aubergine bedspread, lavender dust ruffle, mauve comforter and silk lilac sheets. An antique armoire sat at the side of the bed, and across from it, a fireplace blazed at the flick of a switch.

Flin sat the boy down on the bed. "You liked it, didn't you?"

Weasel smiled for the first time. "Yes," was the only thing he said but for a moment, the smile was evil, the eyes glinting with malevolence. But only fleetingly. Like something no longer possessed, the eyes regained their blankness, the smile becoming sweet.

"Well," Flin beamed, "I have something you'll like even more."

Weasel turned his head eagerly, but didn't say a word, patiently waiting for the present that Flin was going to provide.

Flin walked over and opened his armoire, full of hanging slacks, jeans, and shirts. And his stock of goodies.

He reached inside, grabbing one of the many solid jewelboxes, only instead of jewels, it was filled with ampoules of Emerald Dust. He carried it with him and sat beside Weasel on the bed. "Are you ready for the surprise?" Flin asked him.

Weasel nodded with just a hint of impatience.

As if he were uncovering a treasure, he slowly opened the jewelbox and took out a bright green ampoule. He was almost tempted to say that this was medicine and that Weasel would be pleasing his parents by taking it, but Flin was aware he'd already pushed things tonight, as empty as those eyes could look, Weasel was a little too smart to fall for that and the whole thing might be blown.

Instead he decided to tell the truth. At least some of it. "This will make you feel really good."

"Give it to me," the boy quietly demanded.

"Hold out your hand."

Weasel opened a grimy little hand that the soap had apparently missed, and Flin placed the ampoule in his palm.

"Now don't do anything yet, I've got to show you how to do it."

"I don't swallow it?" Weasel asked. Yes, a smart kid, but fortunately, unknowledgeable about street drugs.

"No, you sniff it."

The poor thing looked puzzled. "How can I sniff a pill?"

Flin rubbed his hands together in preparation. "I'll show you. It's like magic, you see. One sniff and you'll feel nice. The next sniff will make you feel sort of tingly and muzzy. After that, it will be like you're in dreamland. Now do what I tell you to. Look at the ampoule, do you see the line separating the two parts?"

Weasel nodded gravely.

"I want you to hold the ampoule up to your nose and twist the two parts. A pleasant smelling vapor will be released and that's how you sniff it?"

The boy was doubtful. "Is it going to hurt?"

"It will burn a little the first time, then you won't feel it." You won't feel anything, Flin thought gleefully to himself. "Come on," Flin implored, "For me. You want to make me happy, don't you?"

Another nod, this time more determined. "Yes sir." Gods, the boy's voice was so melodic it almost brought tears to Flin's eyes. Weasel held the ampoule up to his nose, twisted and sniffed, first a tentative sniff, letting out a giggle as he snorted deeper, his giggles turning into giddiness as he bubbled with laughter. "I like this," he decided, inhaling greedily, then pouting. "There's no more."

"The powder, boy. There's a residue of powder inside. That, you swallow. Or lick."

Flin smiled with amusement as Weasel's long pink tongue scraped the inside of the ampoule, voraciously trying to get every last granule. The boy collapsed in a fit of giggles and fell back on the bed. The clear green eyes were now very glassy and unfocused. Weasel was high on Emerald Dust. "The beddd isss movinggg," he slurred, "The room is moving 'round and 'round. Wanna see me fly?" He tried to lift up his head but fell back laughing hysterically. "I want more," he managed to get out.

More? Most people trying Emerald Dust for the first time passed out after the original high. He expected a fully pliable Weasel, one who wouldn't move when Flin ravaged his body. This boy couldn't get enough of the drug.

It was more than he could have ever hoped for. He gave Weasel a benevolent smile, then shut the jewelbox with a decisive click, placing it on the floor.

Weasel's eyes grew hard and glittery. The high had already worn off. "I said, I wanted more." On the edge of a tantrum. Pure rage.

"All in good time, boy. The first time was a gift, a sample. You have to work for the rest."

"Work?" Weasel's smile was shifty, already the cunning addict. "What do I have to do?"

Flin pushed Weasel's head towards his hardening cock. "Suck."

The boy wrenched his head away. "You've got to be kidding! I can't fit that into my mouth."

"Tsk-tsk." Flin shook his head in disappointment. "Then I can't give you anymore."

"That's not fair!" Weasel screamed, reaching for the jewelbox.

Flin slapped his face, not hard enough to mess up the pretty features. Not yet. "Look, my dear boy, it's mine, therefore I decide the conditions. To get it, you have to earn it."

The slap had been hard enough to hurt, and tears welled up in Weasel's eyes. "Don't hurt me," he pleaded. For the first time, a glimmer of fear. "I'll do whatever you say."

It was always so lovely when they began to break. "Good." Flin leaned over and kissed Weasel on the lips. "You're a good boy, Weasel."

"Weasel?" He scrunched up his face. "That's my name?"

"From now on it is. Now suck me like a good boy."

Weasel hesitated for a moment, then bent his head, licking timidly, then took the whole thing in his mouth, holding it there as if he were unsure of what to do next.

Flin was losing his patience, but the boy was already his. He was hooked on Emerald Dust and as far as he knew, Flin was the only one who could provide it.

This time, he pulled out of Weasel's mouth and smacked the side of his head. Much harder than the last time, and he heard the music of the boy's weeping. Flin grabbed Weasel by the hair. "This time suck me, suck me good, darling, or I will break every bone in your cute little body."

Weasel, still sobbing, lowered his head to Flin's raging hard on ,this time letting it through his lips little by little, swirling his tongue experimentally over the cock-head, running it over the glans.

Good, but not good enough. Flin shoved more of himself into the warm, wet, recesses of Weasel's mouth and the boy began to suck, at first haltingly, then ravenously, pulling Flin's cock with incredible suction. The kid was a natural, no, it was natural to him, and it felt so delightful that Flin didn't even care that Weasel seemed to be enjoying it.

So luscious that he came almost instantly, his buttocks quivering as he flooded Weasel with his seed, too much for the boy to swallow all of it, some spilled out the sides of his mouth but he'd done so well that Flin wouldn't punish him this time. In fact, he'd reward him.

He tousled Weasel's hair affectionately. "You're very good. You keep doing that and you will do well here." Flin picked the jewelbox up off the floor and unlocked it, noting with cold amusement the way Weasel's eyes lit up at the sight of the box.

Flin was not surprised that the boy had become addicted so quickly. To keep track of Ghosts, Emerald Dust was actually millions of microchips mixed into an instantly addictive drug. Withdrawal could be fatal. What did surprise him was the rapid tolerance and insatiable craving Weasel was developing. At this rate, Weasel would need at least ten times the amount to fix, which meant Flin would have to get a much higher dosage.

The new junkie already had the hang of it, snatching the ampoule from Flin's outstretched hand, twisting like a pro, almost gulping down the vapor, then popped the ampoule into his mouth, sucking every last drop before spitting it out into his hand.

"Mmmm, this is good," Weasel sighed happily, his pupils dilated to the point of blotting out everything else. Dust eyes.

Instead of being giddy, this time Weasel as calm, sedate, relaxed. "I like this better, it's so peaceful." He stretched out on the bed. "Don't feel a thing."

So it wouldn't put the boy to sleep, but it made him numb. Flin could deal with that.

As he slid his hands all over Weasel's yielding body, he knew the schizophrenic mixture of docile Pet and savage creature would make sex with Weasel a bigger turn-on than anything he'd ever experienced. Add his ethereal beauty and instinctively expert technique, Flin's fallen angel would become the most requested and valuable Pet in his stable.

And his personal boy toy.


When was the bloody doorman going to turn his back? Angelo's power of Persuasion wouldn't work through a glass door, even if he could lock his gaze. If only he'd been thinking when he carried Weasel in his arms a few nights ago. One touch. One fucking touch would be all it took and Angelo could jump him just long enough to make him open the door. Something, Angelo rarely did; possessing a body meant he had to leave his own and he hated to take that risk any longer than he had to. He did it to a small amount every time he jumped a lover, using the sex as a kind of conduit to drain them of sexual energy, but since he wasn't really possessing them, he was still in the safety of his own body.

It didn't matter anyway. Without even the slightest bit of physical contact, he couldn't even project himself onto a body and Pleasure them. But when he brought Weasel back it was getting late and the sky was beginning to lighten.

Not tonight. He had at least ten hours before the sunrise.

So far the doorman hadn't seen him. Angelo knew how to blend in with the night, to be so still his presence wasn't even noticed. It wouldn't have done to be recognized. If things got messy with Flin, (and the way Angelo was feeling, they just might), the last thing he needed was to have his face associated with it.

How to get in, how to get in…

His energy was depleted. He'd used a great deal of it just to get here and he really didn't want to use a lot more. But it was beginning to look like the only choice.

Angelo only hoped he had enough energy to get back to the Nocturne.

All right, let's get this over with.

The door. He'd have to go through the door.

Angelo shifted his vision to Nightvision and scanned the door and surrounding areas for a security system.

Bingo. There it was.

Standing in sheer contrast to the cold blue door were thousands of pulsing red microwires, the system would sense him the second he tried to pass through. Or rather, it would sense the icy mist brushing against the wires.

When in fucking hell did they get this security system? It hadn't been there the last time he'd gotten the invite from the doorman. What had happened in one sunrise?

Then it came to him. I don't want anybody messing with my boy. Of course. Flin had it installed to keep Angelo out. He laughed to himself. As long as he had that invite nothing could keep him out. He just needed to find a way to get in.

Then he realized he'd been stupid in thinking of the door.

Hunger is rotting your brain, vlaka!

Angelo shifted back to Norm vision and Shadowdanced to the side of the high-rise, looking upwards towards his pigeon's balcony window. The last time, he'd flown here, phased out, went through the window and rematerialized in Weasel's bedroom.

Weasel's old bedroom, he reassured himself.

This time, he didn't have the energy to spare. He focused on the balcony, judging the distance from the ground. About twenty stories. Angelo's leg muscles tensed, then, still focused, he jumped straight up, landing catlike and silent on the balcony. Just to ease his paranoia, he shifted back to Nightvision, and took a look see at the windows and the sliding glass doors.

Nothing. Excellent.

Angelo's focus was now on himself, on the still atmosphere around him and he began to relax, letting himself lose just enough substance to be able to walk through the doors and into the bedroom.

He regained substance and lay facedown on Weasel's bed, burying his nose in the pillows and inhaling Weasel's scent. It was still all over the room, but it would fade soon enough. Angelo allowed himself this luxury for a little while, then got up and moved towards the heat he could sense in the apartment.

As he got closer, he realized that Flin was not alone.

Interesting.

Angelo's eyes pierced the darkness as he stalked his prey, the musk of sex leading him to a room in the back of the apartment. It had to be Flin's bedroom.

Oh yes, there he was, with a new toy to console him. Pretty plaything, kind of trashy pretty with bottle blond hair and periwinkle eyes. Angelo liked the pretty features but pretty wasn't beautiful and this piece of fluff couldn't hold a candle to his beloved. And Blondie wasn't even very imaginative. No, he just knelt between Flin's legs and sucked him off.

Angelo suppressed a yawn. About as exciting as jerking off. Ah well, it wouldn't be as if he were interrupting anything important.

And Angelo was very imaginative….


Flin was not satisfied. His new Pet, Vik, just wasn't doing it.

Oh, he was sucking at Flin's cock, and while it felt good to be in the warm mouth, it wasn't anything to write home about. No technique, whatsoever. He would think that Vik would have learned something in the week he'd been here!

Under most circumstances, a lousy lay like Vik would've been immediately sold to a Workcamp for slave labor but there was something about him that actually made him quite endearing. He was subservient and needed to please. But still, that would only get him so far....

Flin was so lost in his reverie, he wasn't prepared for the voice that suddenly rang out in the darkness:

"Mr. Amberson."

Startled, Flin jumped, causing Vik to gag, not that it mattered anyway.

The voice was familiar, but from where? And how did he get in? All the doors were locked.

Abruptly, the lights clicked on. Flin looked towards the bedroom door where, up against the door, stood the beautiful slut that had corrupted his Weasel. What the hell was he doing here?!

The boy glanced at Vik, still on his knees, the fool. "Mouth full, honeychild? he remarked with disdain, "Is that the best you can do? You wouldn't know how to give a decent blow-job if your life depended on it." Black eyes glinted with malice. "But I guess it does, doesn't it."

"You bitch," Vik spat, withdrawing from Flin's cock, bits of spittle dripping down his chin, and attacked the beauty, throwing himself at him.

And hitting the floor.

Somehow, the boy was now sitting on Flin's bed, looking quite bored. "Clumsy, are we, sunshine?"

How'd he do that? Flin didn't even see him move.

Vik was confused as well. And pissed."Why you, -" Vik ran over and pounced on the bed.

It happened again.

"I can move much faster than you ever could so I'd save my energy if I were you, dearheart." Now the boy was back against the door again.

Now if Vik was smart, he'd have gotten the hint and tried something else, like leaving the room and getting the gun Flin kept in Weasel's room. Brains, however were not Vik's strong points, any more than sexual prowess. Flin could have easily mindcalled for help, but he was having too much fun watching Vik make an idiot out of himself. On the other hand, he was not going to put up with this bullshit much longer. One last time, Vik rushed at the troublemaker.

Slam!

Vik was crumbled in a heap on the floor. Apparently, he'd been thrown there.

The boy tapped his foot. "This is getting annoying. Why don't you just leave while you're still conscious, mmmm?"

That did it. Flin mindcalled for help, knowing that the WASP police would be here in moments.

"I just felt you do something," the boy singsonged, "If you don't cancel it, I won't tell you where Weasel is."

How did he-

No, Flin was tired of that tune, apparently, there were a lot of paranormal things this boy could do. Had to be a Mutant. It figured. But Flin would be damned if he let a Mutant, even one as pretty as this, call the shots.

So, he wanted to play…

Flin reached out with a mindprobe to find out the information himself.

Amusement. Fury. Hunger. Something insatiable, a monster, oh no, omigod, too much, it's too much…

"GAAAHHH!!!" Flin screamed in paroxysms of agony as his head exploded from the overload.

Evil laughter rang in every synapse of his brain.

- Next time, I'll let you hand yourself to me, vache. -

Flin was unceremoniously kicked out of the Mutant's mind.

"Now," the Mutant grinned, "Are you going to play nice, or do I forget my master's orders and kill you?"

More than anything, Flin wanted to tell this upstart what he could do with his threat. However, he wasn't stupid, and decided that playing along with a first rate telepath, or at least one stronger than he was, would be better than death.

"Good. First thing is you get rid of your sorry Pet. My master wants this discussed without an audience."

That was the second time the Mutant's master was mentioned. Who was it?

Flin would never find out just standing there. -Vik. Go. Now, - he telepathically commanded.-

Of course Vik was unhappy, but he knew better than to disobey Flin. He managed to stand up and shuffle out of the bedroom.

Flin got up and shut the door. "No more games," Flin demanded, "tell me where Weasel is."

"All in good time," the Mutant replied. "Before we discuss business, how about Pleasure?"

Flin stared at him. "What are you talking about!"

Quicker than thought, the Mutant was beside Flin, leading him to the bed. "You never got the chance to get your rocks off, did you?"

Before Flin had the chance to respond, the Mutant pushed him down onto the bed and began to nuzzle his thighs.

At first, Flin was in shock, he always called the shots and with a kid that wasn't his Pet, no less. But lips, surprisingly but not unpleasantly icy lips were barely touching the tender flesh inside his thigh, teeth raking over it as a frosty tongue ran along the crease of his thigh, unlike Vik, this boy knew exactly what he was doing. Oh yes, finally, the cool wet mouth covered the crown of Flin's cockhead, tongue running sensually over the glans, teasing nibbles along the edge of the head.

Then abruptly withdrawing.

The Mutant raised his head smirking. "You want more sweet thing," he breathed, black eyes alight with a mixture of lust, and could it be… contempt?

Yes. Contempt was exactly what it was.

"How dare you!" Fin smacked the brat upside his head. "Look, you little cocktease, you don't ask me if I want more. You give it to me." He pushed the Mutant's head back down. "Now!"

"Whatever you say, Mr, Amberson."

Flin was about to slap him again for his sarcasm but he got immediately distracted by the boy's adept lips and tongue, teasing, sucking gently on the head, tongue runing up and down the shaft, easing it in his mouth, little by little, until Flin was completely immersed in ice, the sucking becoming voracious, even better suction than Weasel, so intense, oh god, he was about to explode…

"Who said you could come yet?" Flin suddenly felt needles stabbing his cock, screaming hellfire boiling alive pain as he felt the boy bite down hard at the base of his penis. Flin would've jerked away but he couldn't. The teeth were buried deep and the mouth was sucking.

Only this time, it wasn't withdrawing.



 Vlaka! What the hell are you doing?

Rousing the Tiger just enough to tease, but not satisfy, Angelo was riding that Tiger and holding on by his fingernails.

Juicing this way was done for only one purpose. It was slow and caused excruciating suffering. It wasn't the quantity, as much as the quality.

And what quality!

An ambrosia of pain, arousal, fury, and fear. Such succulent fear. Sweet and rich, like a fine wine, Angelo reluctantly pulled himself away and swallowed the precious drops he shouldn't have had in his mouth in the first place. He was playing with fire and he knew it. Angelo just didn't give a fuck, at the moment.

Ardoin had said he couldn't kill Flin. Fine. Angelo had already had his forbidden taste, but since he stopped he might get away with it.

Or maybe not.

It really didn't matter because Angelo wasn't done yet. Not at all. By the time he was done with Mr. Flin Amberson, the poor creature wouldn'tbe able to distinguish pleasure from pain. And if the Keeper's body went into shock and ceased to function, well thatwould just be a fringe benefit. A waste, but a definite perk. At least he'd be able to honestly say that he didn't juice Flin to death. He could even say he didn't kill Flin.

Right.

Angelo ran his tongue over his lips, smiling in anticipation. Ah well, if he was going to pay anyway, he might as well make it worth it.


Flin lay back gasping. The Mutant had withdrawn and the pain suddenly stopped. Bam. Like a light switch that had been flicked off.

"Do you like pain, Mr. Amberson?" Somehow, he was right beside Flin. The bed hadn't even squeaked. "Now that it's your own, of course. I've seen how much you love to inflict it on Weasel."

Flin sat up and backhanded the brat without even thinking.

Only the boy didn't cry out or shriek in pain. There were tears in his eyes though.

Tears of laughter.

"It will take more than that, my friend. Interesting. I took away your pain and you just tried to cause me some. I can bring it back. And make it worse."

It began as tiny needles, little beestings shooting through his balls, then up the shaft, gradually blossoming into full blown gut wrenching hell, pain knifing through every nerve ending in his body. "Make it stop!" Flin screamed.

"Sure thing, honeychild." Just like that, his suffering was gone. "Can't talk business if you're flailing around like a flounder."

"Business? With you?"

The Mutant smiled. "My master wishes that I speak to you about Weasel's contract."

"You do have Weasel!" Flin's eyes narrowed. "My property. Stolen from me. But you will bring him back. Immediately."

Flin reached out with his mind to telepathically summon the WASP police.

Nothing happened. He tried again.

Nothing. It was as if his psionic ability had vanished and he was suddenly a Sap!

More laughter. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Amberson, just a slight side effect. Your psionic ability has been, shall we say, anestheticized. Temporarily useless. And by the time it wears off, I'll be gone. Besides," Black eyes gleamed. "if you do something stupid like summoning the police you'll never find out whereWeasel is."

"I know where he is, you have him!"

"Ah, but where is he? You have no idea. And by the way," he smirked, "my master Ardoin pays the WASP drones quite nicely. They won't do jack shit."

Flin had enough. "I'm tired of dealing with his peon, get me your master."

"I handle my master's affairs," the boy snapped. "Now I suggest you cooperate." The Mutant reached inside his pocket and took out a slim 24 carat creditcard case, withdrawing a diamond credit card.

How did a Mutant get his hands on one of those?

The boy held out the credit card. "We are prepared to pay 1 million credits to buy out Weasel's contract. That's much more than the 100,000 credits you demanded and more than you would ever make with him. It would be in your best interest to take this deal."

The Master Ardoin must have been the young man who had gone to him, not long after Weasel's fiasco, and inquired about Weasel's price. At the time he said it was too high, but all along, he was planning on stealing Flin's Weasel for himself!

"Hmmm." Flin smiled nastily. "On one condition."

"And that is?

Flin reached out and grabbed the Mutant by the wrist. "I'll need a new Pet to replace him. You'll do quite nicely."

The boy's smile turned malevolent. "Sunshine, you're either so arrogant thatit would take a sword to deflate your ego, or you're a complete moron." He flicked his wrist and Flin was flung across to the other side of the room.

"I let you grab me," the Mutant told him. "What did you think you were going to do to keep me docile, feed me drugs to enslave me like Weasel?"

Flin wished he could slap that arrogance off the boy's face but he couldn't move. He couldn't even feel a thing.

The Mutant walked over to where Flin's body lay in a crumbled heap on the floor, his eyes unfocussing for just a moment before going back into focus. "Your ribs are broken, various other bones are as well, but because I want no distractions, I've shut off the torment you would normally feel. But are you sure it's pain? It could be pleasure."

Again, it started off small, little bursts of delight moved up and down his body, gradually becoming jolts of pure euphoria, sizzling straight to his cock, until cascades of orgiastic ecstacy engulfed him.

"But then again, maybe it is pain."

Oh no, it was back again, but worse than before because now every brokenbone was singing a chorus of torment, pain so bad that there wasn't even therelief of passing out. But strangely enough, the pleasure was still there. In fact, the worse the paingot, the harder he got.

The boy dropped to the floor. "Look what I've done to you. Got you all hot and bothered with no place to go. I'll do it right this time." And before Flin could protest, his cock was immersed into the Mutant's icy mouth.

And do it right he did.

Too right. With his adept mouth, tongue and teeth, he quickly brought Flin to the edge. But only that far.

"Maybe pleasure just isn't enough fo you anymore," the boy murmurred, and he took Flin back into his mouth, raking the cockhead against needle sharp teeth, sucking so hard that Flin could feel little drops of blood trickling down the shaft, such delicious pain.

Flin's hips bucked as he violently came, the sputtering semen burning like acid against his skin but it felt so bad, it felt so good, he didn't know how it felt anymore.

Then he saw the Mutant's eyes and silently screamed. It was the same feverish, amused, aroused, inhuman look he'd seen in Weasel's eyes so long ago.

He was suddenly flipped over and Flin realized what was about to happen and there was nothing he could do about it.

Flin was on his stomach, his penis crushed against the carpeting as he heard jeans unbutton, then unzip, then felt the Mutant's hardness against his ass-cheeks.

"I shouldn't bother but we need some lubrication." The Mutant's nails sliced like razors, slicing the shirt he still had on into shreds. Flin again felt blood pouring but he felt his penis harden as the pain got worse.

"That should be enough." He heard something being smeared, then felt the tearing agony of the Mutant's penis being slammed into Flin's unwilling hole,slamming in and out, viciously, tearing him open, but it brought Flin's body tounwilling rapture, coming all over his carpet until he felt something cold enter his soul.

It was draining him, violently, viciously, the more aroused he got, the weaker he became until his heart started to slow down.

Sweet relief as the Mutant finally pulled out. "Now, do we have anagreement?"

What choice did he have? And he would be getting 1 million credits. Besides,as soon as the Mutant left, he would call the police.

"Oh, one more thing," the boy said cheerfully. "Any call you make to the police makes the credits null and void." He stood up and kicked Flin's broken body. "Have a nice day."

And he was suddenly gone. Just as mysteriously as he came.


Angelo was as high as a kite. Sex-energy was singing through his body and he felt like floating out of the penthouse.

Unfortunately, he still had one loose end to tie up.

Vik. He saw Angelo, knew who he was and could connect him to Flin's"accident."

Angelo giggled. Poor baby, he never knew what he was dealing with.

Now, where was the little bugger?

Angelo had a pretty good idea, and when he reached Weasel's old room andsaw the petulant Pet sulking on the bed, he felt so mellow, he wasn't even irritated. In fact, he'd do the boy a favor. "Hello, Vik," Angelo sang.

"Go the fuck away!"

Not very hospitable. Oh well, Angelo would try again. "I'm here to help you."Angelo knew it was probably a lost cause but it might work.

"Oh really?" Bitchiness dripped from every pore.

Angelo, for once, refused to rise to the bait. "Really. I'm going to teach you how to give such a good blow-job that you'll quickly become the best in Flin's stable."

"And how do you intend to do this?"

Ooooh, prissy, prissy. Ol' Vik was going to have to loosen up a little if he was going to get anywhere. His face reminded Angelo of a constipated prune. Under normal circumstances, it would have pissed Angelo off, but he was buzzed enough to find it hilarious, and it took great self-control not to crack up. Instead he let his expression become serious. "By giving you one, silly, how else are you going to learn?"

Angelo couldn't help it, the disgust on Vik's face was enough to make him collapse into a fit of giggles. Maybe he'd been too greedy with Flin. He hadn't been this intoxicated in along time, at least, not from jumping someone. But it was too late now.

Vik was staring at him, noticing Angelo's eyes were glittering even more than usual. "You're junked up."

"Not quite." Angelo pinched Vik's cheek affectionately.

Then it hit him. "You're with Flin and he hasn't hooked you on drugs?"

"I don't take drugs," Vik sniffed.

"So you do it willingly?" The concept was even too much for Angelo's fuzzy brain to comprehend.

"Of course," Vik simpered, "Flin is gorgeous. And now that Weasel is gone, I'll be the one sharing Flin's bed."

Hopeless. Ah well, it was Vik's funeral. Angelo could think of better ways to use all this sex-energy anyway.

The mention of his beloved rankled enough to penetrate through the haze but Angelo reminded himself what those words meant.

Weasel was gone. Vik probably thought Weasel ran away, which, when Angelo thought about it, was close to the truth. But Weasel was gone. Now he was with Angelo.

And speaking of Weasel...

Angelo's drunken state suddenly vanished when he realized that the whole time he was playing with Flin, Ardoin had been alone with Weasel. Just long enough to bind Weasel to him.

He had to get back to the Nocturne.

Now!

But first, he had to see to Vik. No more playing around.

Vik's will was pathetically weak, Angelo didn't even have to meet his eyes to clamp down on his will and overpower it with his own.

- Flin just had a heart attack. You were so good, you got him too excited andhis heart went. You never saw me and I was never here, understand?-

Vik nodded mechanically, but that wasn't enough for Angelo.

-You came in here to call for emergency help, dial those numbers so the Nightingales can send over a Healer for him.-

Another nod and zombie-like, Vik was on the phone. "There's been a heartattack..."

That was all Angelo needed to hear. Unlike juicing, the energy he gained when he jumped someone didn't add substance so he was able to phase outand re materialize on the balcony.

He'd gotten just enough energy to get back to the Nocturne the quickest way he knew how.

Again, Angelo let himself lose substance, but at the same time, he willed his body to transmogrify into a form that would enable him to fly.

He only hoped he could reach Weasel in time. Though several hours had already passed and he knew Ardoin.

With a screech, he took off and flew towards the Nocturne, wondering whatWeasel's condition would be like when he got there.

Black Widower©Janette, 1997 - 2004

Page Last Updated 9/11/04