Indiscretion

A Night of Sins Mortal and Venial



The cold gray sky above, though blocked from sight by passing buildings. Beyond the haze, far off in the distance, the dim outline of the faint moon shone through as best it could, to little effect. A sigh. Of desperation, of defeat, of despair. A full spectrum of emotions all rolled into one quick package. Beside him sat Lucien. Fear and uncertainty etched deep into his features. He tried to reassure, to comfort him. His success was limited.



“It'll be alright,” he said. “Everything'll be alright.”



“Shut up back there!” the officer up front shouted. “No talking.”



He would then have placed his arm around Lucien but for the handcuffs. No comfort could he offer that night. A gentle braking signaled their arrival. No words spoken as they were shoved in a dark empty cell deep in the back. No justification for their imprisonment.



“Don't worry,” Aiden said. “We'll be out of here in no time.”



“Or so you hope.”



“Really. How long were we with Daniel, anyway? Couldn't have been more than a few hours—a day, max.”



“There's no telling. We were both unconscious when we got there, remember? Who knows how long we were out?”



“Don't worry.”



“What if we don't leave? What if we're stuck here?”



“We won't be stuck here.”



Tears, soft and pure, dripping down Lucien's boyish cheek freshly covered in foreign grime. Cleansing a path through filth and driven by sadness.



“Shh. It'll be alright.” He moved his now free arm around the boy and pulled him close. “Don't cry.” Rocking back and forth as with a newborn babe. “I won't let that man near you.”



“I won't,” he repeated.



An eerie silence then descended, an ominous premonition of things to come. A restless sleep for the both of them, Aiden newly sore from recent injuries. Lucien kissed them better.



Never was his soul more tormented than to have lips so angelic and chaste brush against his skin in an act of filial kindness driven by no sexual desire but fueling another's. It took all his effort to control himself. Such a sweet child, he thought. Always worrying about others when the others are the ones what ought do the worrying. And how much I should like to take those lips as my own, to drive them to my own purposes. Would he object? Doubtful. I could have my way with him if I so desired. Could have him shouting words he didn't know he knew. Him begging for more and me obliging. O yes, I can see it, taste it, feel it. His soft and luscious skin pale white beneath my fingers groping where none others had groped before. Those dark and secret places, of whom only I know. Could have him whimpering, even. Should I so desire. He paused in his thoughts. Dear God, but what was he thinking? Must be the lack of sleep. Would that he could so easily toss aside the blame from himself. 'Tis I who'm at fault. 'Twere my own fault, yet I no the wiser for it. Could he safely stay with him in such a state? Could he?



Could he?



A clank and a clatter distracted him.



In his view, now, the man. Whose name though once uttered neither could remember. On his face—a malicious grin.

---

Aiden:

Stay back, Lucien.



(Lucien nods.)



Michael:

Lucien, eh? I'll be sure to remember that.

(Though like as not.)



I've come to collect my due.



Aiden:

You'll not have him.



Michael:

I don't remember saying you'd have a say in the matter.

Though I suppose you could speak as much as you like,

not that it'll make any difference.



Aiden:

It's not speaking I intend.



Michael:

Still feisty are we?

Haven't learned our lesson?



(He pulls from his belt a baton, sleek and black.)



Michael:

Mayhap you need remediation?



(He strikes Aiden across the neck. As it makes contact with his skin it releases a slight electric shock which serves to stun Aiden.)



Michael:

You like?

Who knows what fucking kinks you perverts have.

Spending so much time having sex you can't even hold a job, right?

Not that anyone would hire someone like you, anyway.

Who'd want to have such a liability?



Do you know what I'm going to do to you?

Hell, I don't know what I'm going to do to you.

Can you feel it, the excitement?

Tangible, almost.

God I love this job.



Aiden:

Sick fuck.



(Aiden, since recovered, lunges at Michael. A swift bludgeon from the baton returns him to submission.)



Michael:

You call me sick?

I think maybe you're confused.

You, my dear sir, are the pervert.

The sexual deviant.

The homosexual.

All I want is sex with that boy of yours.

Nothing wrong with wanting a little something for yourself, right?

He's as good as mine, anyways.

Not much you can do here.



Now, if'n ya don' mind. . .



(He steps forward towards Lucien, his hand stretched out and brushing against the boy's soft cheek.)



Michael:

Don't you worry now. I'll be gentle.

(Yeah right!)



(When Michael again moves forward, Lucien makes to strike him but is caught midway. Michael preemptively grabs the other arm.)



Michael:

Well, there goes my being gentle. . .

I guess you like it rough, don't you?

Whore.



(Both of the boy's arms gripped in his own, Michael steals a rough, violent kiss from lips tender and fearful.)

---

Before Michael had any time to go much further, though, the sound of sliding doors in the background restrained Michael's libido. Just as he managed to reach the proper side of the cell for a guard, a portly man entered with another, less portly.



“Will these do?” the portly man asked.



“I suppose,” the other man said. “They do look a tad scrawny, though.”



“I assure you they're the finest young men we have.”



“Fine then. When shall I have them?”



“You may take them now, if you wish. But we'll need to put their collars on, first.”



“Of course. I'll be waiting out front with the check.”



“Thank you for your patronage.”



The portly man moved towards them and the other away. He slid open the cell door and motioned for them to get up. In the next room over they were fitted with collars that were uncomfortably tight.



“Misbehave, and they'll shock you,” the man said. “Try to escape, and it will explode.”



And so, under cover of darkness, they escaped one man's greed only to be sold into another's.

---

They were drugged during the transportation, such that they might forget their journey. Upon arrival, they were greeted by an imposing tower, the top of which they could not see from the ground. Their ascent was quick and quiet, the drugs preventing any sort of conversation.



When the metallic doors glided open, they were met by a truly opulent foyer. Glittering gold accents adorned marble pillars spread throughout the room. The walls were covered in magnificent and grotesque works of art depicting various contortions of human flesh. One showed a man and a woman post-coitus, another during, yet another before. Others showed single models in various stages of undress. Each was meticulously crafted, each brush stroke carefully planned and plotted. There was a door at the end of the hallway, beyond which lay their future.



“Welcome to your new home,” the man said. “You should know that I am very demanding of my slaves, but tonight you shall rest.”