Becoming His Slave (63 page)

Her? Her life had been nothing more than fantasy scribbled on little bits of paper and computer screens. Only one thing she ever knew for certain was he would be every bit of the lovers she created in her head and in her stories. Still that one irksome question in the back of her mind. What happens when a master grows tired of his slave? He said he wanted a life slave. Some people say they want to get married and live happily ever after, but that’s not what happens.

She hide her face in his shoulder. This courting thing was getting to her. He made her so weak. It was too easy to be his lover, she’d beg for it if she thought for a moment he’d give into it. She knew he wouldn’t, she’d already tried. But surrendering to him as his lover was not the same as surrendering to him totally and they both knew that. The condition he demanded was all or nothing. Nothing in between.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

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 “Glad you guys are here. Sasha’s up stairs in dyers.” Vida called for their attention the moment Trenton and Diesel strode through the door of Club Pain at their usual time of arrival.

“Isaiah?” Trenton paused at the window where Vida sat each night running the door.

“It's bad, carried him in with both his legs and arms in sleeves. He’s gone beyond Sasha’s ability.”

Trenton waved Diesel and Paris to go ahead and head up, “We’ll take care of it. Tell the other members when they come in the upstairs is closed tonight.”

Upstairs Sasha Laszkovi was near frantic for his lover’s needs unable to give him what he needed. Isaiah often required more pain then Sasha was capable of giving. He was a BD Dom and he loved spoiling his boys, but Isaiah was a pain addict and without controlled delivery, he was a danger to himself.

“He’d been doing so good that when he got the invite to hang with some friends, I let him of course.” Sasha began explaining what had happened to both Dominus and Patronus. His eyes worried in the direction of the rooms in the back. “But when I returned to pick him up his friends had him out in the parking lot ready to suck them all off like some reenactment of some fraternity initiation. I was pretty pissed till I realized how drunk they’d gotten him. After that he took a nose dive for
Depression-Ville
. I even had to make him sleep in his restraints just to prevent him from hurting himself.”

Trenton and Diesel joined Sasha in the private room in the back where Isaiah and Isaac waited sans their usual Steampunk attire. That alone was a sign the depressive state had gotten out of hand. The twins where rarely caught out of dress code. The back room was one of five bedrooms set up for private scenes for members, but this one was reserved for the club’s owners only.

Isaiah’s condition wasn’t a new thing and it certainly wasn’t the first time Sasha had come to them for help, so he knew to bring him here and wait.

Neither Trenton nor Diesel had a thing for pain kinks outside of spanking and flogging, but this wasn’t about them, nor was it really about pleasure, but everything to do with Isaiah’s physiological health. A manic depressant with a bad habit of hurting himself, because he was driven to feel pain and his threshold was too high for most people’s comfort zones. Isaiah had one super lucky thing going for him, aside from having a lover who had an understanding of the physiological needs and that could be met and controlled in their BD world better than in the hands of a main stream psychiatrist, but also his Dom loved him dearly and wasn’t into pain himself.

Aside from being a danger to himself, Isaiah could be a danger in the hands of a Dom who was heavily into SM. In that Isaiah could take every bit a Dom could roll out. If you pushed his boundaries then his threshold for pain went that much higher the next time he became depressed. A man could kill him, trying to find a limit in him.

Trenton and Diesel right away went to work first replacing the leather sleeves that restrained his arms and legs with ropes and soon had him hoisted up in a sling that held up standing up right at the foot of the bed. The visual effect from the colorfully coiled bindings in the mind and on the body far exceeded the leather restraint sleeves. It would also make his skin accessible for other applications needed in the treatment.

While Diesel tended to most of the rope wrapping, Trenton pulled out the lock box. Items they kept on hand for just such purposes and mostly only came out for Isaiah and began setting up a sterile environment to work off of. After pulling on some nitrile gloves, he pulled over a stainless steel tray draped with clinical blue napkin and several sterile packages. The clear windows on one side revealing several stainless steel implements inside them. Each bag slightly crisped from the sterilization process in an autoclave.

Sasha held back in the corner fretting. He knew what was about to take place, knew what was needed to be done, but knowing didn’t make it any easier and already his skin was crawling over the deed.

Trenton pulled out a blue sterilizing bag from the box, tearing it open he procured a smooth stainless steel rod—known as a
sound
.

“
Uh-uh
you’re not doing that to him.” Sasha stepped up to argue the urethra implement.

“Sasha it will help heightened his sensitivity without pushing his threshold. Now go sit, so we can do this.” Trenton calmly ordered him back.

Sasha only barely stepped back. He glanced at his other lover, Isaac, who sat on the bed watching and waiting, ready to feel with his other half. Isaac always remained silent, because he wasn’t about to get ordered out and separated from his twin. Sasha on the other hand was becoming more and more like his brother, Pyotr. Always the mother hen in the way he worried over his two lovers. But when Sasha saw the packages of piercing needles, he lost his composure to remain quiet and Trenton ordered him out of the room. When he failed to obey, Trenton ordered Paris to drag his ass out. Sasha was tall, but he was no match for the muscular strength Paris had. So he didn’t test Paris’ ability to see the orders through, but numbly allowed the man to lead him away.

Out in the lobby of the upstairs club, Paris sat with Sasha watching as the man several years younger than him was slowly coming unglued. What he needed was a Sub to dom over to keep him together, but with Isaiah in trouble and his brother Isaac at his side, Sasha was on his own.

“I’m troubled by all this. I don’t understand.” Paris tried to sound wounded or at the least a little scared hoping to catch Sasha’s attention.

Sasha’s focus waivered only slightly, but Paris caught it and put on a shiver for show. The movement worked and Sasha was now looking at him with concern, “You really are new to all this, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Paris did his best to sound vulnerable.

Sasha took a deep breath and his hand floated up to touch Paris on the cheek. It worked. Paris played the wounded bird and Sasha was slipping back into the protective Dom he was known for being.

“I got great boys.” Sasha shook his head as troubled thoughts boiled up in him. “Ever see those kids so overly sheltered by their parents you just bet they’ll go insane once they’re on their own?”

Paris nodded.

“It's true. That really happens. Isaac and Isaiah—they’re so damn smart. Their parents were fanatics when it came to tutoring the boys. You know Isaac and Isaiah both were reading, writing and playing violin by the time they were in kindergarten. Both of them master violinist by age seven. They’re whole life revolved around what their parents wanted them to do. School, after school tutors, music lessons, then dinner, homework, family board game at the table then go to bed—day after day always the same. Never got to go out and play, never allowed to be in sports. By the time they were sixteen they were taking college classes, because the high school didn’t know what to do with them. But when they turned 18, University rules say they have to do a year in the dorms.” Sasha took a long breath and let it with a huff, his fingers combing through Paris’ hair while he went on. “Eighteen years old and neither of them had ever even kissed a girl, or a boy for that matter. They’d never drank before either. So guess what dorm life did to them? The hazing, the pledges, the booze, next thing they turned to each other for comfort.”

Sasha’s thoughts drifted to that fateful call from 911 dispatch. He knew the address. That was where his knew lover lived, they’d just started dating about a month ago and he was already considering asking Isaac to move in with him. He loved his frail, mixed heritage lover. Part American, part Chinese. He loved the eyes—he was a sucker for the eyes, dark as night and the exotic slant in them. He was a ball of nerves the second the call came over the radio waves and he rushed as fast as he could make the ambulance go, fearful something had happened to his lover Isaac.

When he rushed through the door of the dormitory he found Isaac hovering over someone on the floor. Heat and rage filled his face to find his lover clutching to another man, that is until Isaac turned to face him and he caught a glimpse of the other man in his arms. He remembered rubbing at his eyes for a long moment and stared even longer, seeing double.

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TWO YEARS AGO

“Sasha please.” Isaac pleaded. Sasha blinked, then reality slapped him in the face when he saw the row of two inch cuts running up Isaac’s twin brother’s arm. One in particular had gone too deep and he was losing a considerable amount of blood.

Sasha shoved his lover from his brother and quickly went to work on the man’s wounded body. There was no doubt in his mind they were self inflected; he’d seen enough of them to know. “Want to tell me why he was trying to commit suicide?”

Isaac’s eyes bugged wide and shook his head.

“Isaac. Tell me why.” He commanded with some restraint. He didn’t want his lover to think he was heartless, at least not for his own twin.

“He wasn’t trying to commit suicide Sasha. I swear it.”

“Isaac, I’ve seen suicide attempts before. Now tell me what this is about.”

Isaac started crying instantly, “He’s obsessed with pain. When he gets upset he needs to feel it, and he got too close.”

Sasha sat back on his heels, staring at Isaac then down at his brother. They were identical in every way. They didn’t even try to look different from each other, if it weren’t for the different shirts and the blood at the moment, he’d have had a hard time telling them apart.

Addicted to pain. Isaac had been so quick to become his submissive it nearly made his head spin. It was as if Isaac had been waiting for someone to take over his life, that he was a wreck without it. Now he wondered if his brother were the same way. That he too needed to be controlled only for him the implication ran far deeper. Sasha finished the preliminary dressing, than loaded Isaiah on the gurney and he and his partner rolled him out to the ambulance. Isaac fast on his heels.

In the ambulance Sasha made a call, “Cliff— hey it’s Sasha. I know you got your sister and all, but you think you could come in and finish my shift? I got a family emergency— (he paused)— no we’re heading for the hospital now. I’ll be in the emergency room— (another pause)— thanks.” He turned to Isaac and grasped his hand in his, reining in his lover’s fears and roaming thoughts. “We’ll get Isaiah put back together. And then you can sit and tell me how all this came to be.”

Isaac nodded. It wasn’t a request, he knew that. Sasha if anything demanded open honesty, and he hadn’t been very open about the most important member in his life outside of Sasha. Now was the time to fix that.

Several hours passed while they waited in the ER waiting room. Cliff had arrived and taken Sasha’s spot for the remainder of his shift on the ambulance. Never the slightest annoyance for the request, because Sasha had done the same for him many times and would again he was certain. This was one favor neither of them had to feel bad about asking for.

Isaac had since fallen asleep in his arms and his shoulder was cramping from keeping to one spot for so long, but he didn’t dare move too much. Isaac had seemed so exhausted by the ordeal. Learning Isaac had been up with his brother for the last two nights, which explained why Isaac had stood him up the night before.

A man in blue scrubs came down the hall heading their way. Sasha knew him right away, his heart thumping, hoping his brother had been the one working on Isaiah. And he felt the relief when Pavle approached him. Sasha shrugged Isaac, but when he didn’t wake he shifted him in his arms holding his weight while he slid out from under him then gently lowered him down on the sofa bench and stood.

“Pavle?” Sasha faced his older brother.

The doctor looked at Isaac then to Sasha as if seeing him for the first time and gave him a nod. “He’s going to be fine. We had to put seven stitches in along the brachioradialis muscle and immobilized the arm so he doesn’t tear them back out from moving around. The rest were easily sealed with butterfly tape. He’s lucky, any deeper and he might have suffered permanent muscle damage. Now for the bad news Sasha.” He gave him a careful nod. “We have to place him under state psychiatric hold—”

“No. That won’t be necessary. I’ll see to it he’s cared for properly.”

“Sasha if that were the case—”

“Look the boys tried to hide his condition out of fear of rejection.” Sasha cut his brother off, “But now that I’ve been made aware of it, Isaiah’s just gonna have to get use to a few new rules in his life or the return of some absent ones.”

“It’s not that easy, Sasha. The boy has inflicted some serious cuts on himself. I can’t just hand him over to anyone— you’re not even his rightful guardian.”

“He’s nineteen. He doesn’t need a guardian.”

“Sasha—”

“Look if I have to, I’ll get Pyotr down here to sign him off.”

The doctor scratched his head. He knew Sasha meant well, but that didn’t make Sasha a doctor. And hospital rules weren’t going to let him release the young lad to just anyone. As far as the state was concerned Isaiah had attempted suicide, only option afforded him was he could sign Isaiah over to a doctor’s care or ward under the terms that he was mentally disturbed and unaware of what he was doing kept him from being arrested, since suicide was illegal in the state of New York. Ironic wasn’t it? That if a person was so deep in despair to even try such a heinous act only to find that if you survived to end up arrested instead? As if that was going to make the person feel so much better. But regardless of what he thought of the law, Pavle was bound to it. However their brother Pyotr was a psychologist. Even though his methods were a bit unorthodox by medical standards, from personal experience he trusted Pyotr above all others. “I don’t have time to make the call, but tell Pyotr that if he’ll at least agree to oversee Isaiah’s case I will release Isaiah to your custody. That’s the best I can do for you, but next time—”