The Elegant Corpse

The room temperature was bone-chilling, and Pete made it worse by smearing Sean's already shivering body with ice cubes.Then he drops something on Sean's shoulder and it feels like it's burning.Panting instinctively, Sean recognized wax dripping on the floor at his feet.

Then the ice cubes came again, and the burning pain was as uncomfortable as dripping wax before.

Pete then walked behind Sean. "Masochists are true saints," he preached in a strange Italian accent, "with biological mechanisms to ward off excruciating pain." And Pete laughed.

Sean's limbs were bound and his clothes were stripped.He couldn't see Pete, but he had been listening for over an hour to the other man's speech in various tones of voice.

At first, Sean tried to reason with him.When Pete entered Roger's apartment and pulled out a gun, Sean assumed the man was Roger's lover.After all he has the key.

"Listen, buddy, I just met this man. I asked him if he was married." Sean raised his hands high, staring at the muzzle of the gun in front of him.

It wasn't until Pete made him write a note that he realized he was in trouble.

They left in Sean's car, and the doorman let them pass without even blinking.The highways, the back alleys of Los Angeles, and the twists and turns, he has completely lost his way.Pete then stopped him and took him down a dark, wet, dirty lane.Sean's mind was full of thoughts at the time: he was going to die here.He didn't even know exactly where this place was, it was horrible.The moment Pete stopped and pulled open the back door of an old warehouse, pushing him in, he was almost relieved.

Sticking really hurts.But after a while, the pain became the norm, and Sean didn't take it seriously.Pete stopped.

"Oh, I see." He smiled. "Do you want me to take you to experience that realm, Sean?"

Sean struggled to understand what he was asking.He seemed to have lost his mind.The cane slid through the air, and when the blow fell, his body shuddered. "Talk," Pete said.

"me……"

"Say 'yes, master'." The cane hit him on both shoulders, and the pain caused Sean to return to his original position.Feeling the real pain again made him howl.

"Say 'yes, master'!"

"Yes, master!" Sean cried.

Pete laughed and said, "Again!" and he started hitting again.This time, Sean couldn't escape or get past the pain.Pete seemed to know how to hit him to make it hurt more, making him cry and beg him to stop.

Pete continued to beat until Sean was hoarse, his legs were weak, and he was almost hanging by the shackles on his hands.The burning pain in his back was particularly severe, as if his kidneys had been damaged.When his bladder couldn't take it anymore and became incontinent, he peed blood.

What he didn't expect was that it could be worse: Then Pete started dripping wax.

Pete's footsteps stopped behind him again, very close together.Sean's skin shivered, waiting for what was to come.When he felt a movement in the top of his head and jerked his head up, the flames burned his cheeks, and the wax droplets splashed on his chest, and he cried out.

"You are not allowed to beg for mercy." Pete reminded him and walked around the cross slowly.He held a thick purple candle and stood facing Sean, a smile of great surprise on his face as he tilted the candle to burn Sean's cock.

Sean screamed.

When he regained consciousness, Pete was gone again.

"You need me," was Pete's voice, but it didn't look like Pete at all.Although his accent is filled with an eerie sense of déjà vu. "You need me to save you. An abuser is a servant of God," Pete said. "Roger is special. But you won't understand, will you?"

Hearing Pete's footsteps approaching again, Sean crouched, waiting for ice or hot wax.But he felt a rough and warm touch across his leg.He looked down.

"It's called a 'cat's whip,'" Pete murmured in his ear. "See those little knots? They're awesome. Like shards of glass."

He steps back.Several swishes accompanied by explosions made Sean's body and mind tense at the same time, but he was not beaten.

"It's such a wonderful feeling of anticipation," Pete said.He paced aside, and Sean could see him out of the corner of his eye by squinting as hard as he could. "I spoke to our friend Roger," Pete said, "and he's all right. I know you're worried, but he just thinks you've run away."

With the sound of whipping and the crackling of the whip tip, Sean shook violently again.

Pete laughed.

"Oh no, please don't, oh sir please don't whip me, sir," said Pete in a horrible falsetto. "And you're cold enough, aren't you, Sean?" he said suddenly in a rough, low voice. "This kind of cold makes the senses much sharper." Following the sound of whipping, there was a sharp pain like a poisonous snake suddenly biting the lower part of Sean's right shoulder blade.

His whole body vibrated and he struggled against his restraints, his screams echoing off the walls of the cinderblock walls.

He was breathing hard through flared nostrils, his chest heaving uncontrollably.

"This is what you want, little Sean, remember? Don't worry, I'm a good teacher. And we have plenty of time. You'll find me very patient."

Two more whips followed, and the pain from the second was so unbearable that Sean felt hot fluid running down his back.He was sobbing loudly now, begging Pete to let him go.

"Oh," Pete pretended to be a little girl's voice, "does it hurt?" There was a sound of whipping.crackle.Hit sound.Sean closed his eyes.Pain shot through his body, as if he had picked up a live wire.He couldn't bear it, couldn't escape, and didn't even know how he fell into such a miserable situation.

Pete's cell phone rang again.Sean heard the sound of something falling on the floor, footsteps, and then Pete's calm voice: "Hello? Oh, yes, I rescheduled him to four o'clock. Thanks a lot, Barry."

"Help!" Sean yelled, but it was too late, followed by Pete's laughter.

Footsteps sounded again. "I'm afraid it's going to be halftime. I get it, I get it, I don't want you to be bored." Cold, intense pain rose in Sean's nipples.He struggled convulsively, his body involuntarily avoiding the stimulation, but it was just his aching wrist struggling in the nailed shackles.

A cheerful laugh sounded behind him.Sean gasped with his mouth open, and when Pete put a cloth over his mouth, he lost consciousness before he could even catch his breath.

***

It's all over.Sean lay floating in a cool, soft mist.His arms were free of pain, his back was no longer burning, his lungs were no longer burning from hyperventilating and screaming.He didn't feel scared either.

"Who are you?" he asked the man who had rescued him from his misery.

"Patrick." Somehow, he was younger than Sean thought.With his blond hair wavy, he looked like one of those tall, masculine angels painted by Botticelli.He was wearing a loose white shirt and an amphora hung from a leather collar around his neck.

"Roger..." Sean said sadly.

Patrick put his finger on Sean's lips. "Hush. Roger is on his way, but he needs your help. I'll show you how."

***

"He might have a weapon," Roger said to Marianne.They were standing outside the heavy pneumatic door.Inside was the leather club divided into private rooms, where Pete picked up his guests.

"clear."

While they were asking at the front desk, Barry gave Marian a listless look and said, "Peter is hosting Mr. C. Have you made an appointment with your friend?"

He will face some questioning later.Questions that are legally required, uncomfortable, and potentially detrimental to his existing life.But right now Roger was preoccupied with Sean, who had disappeared.He might be bleeding to death in some bathtub, or worse.

Roger and Marianne both took out their IDs, and Barry's little powdered face turned pale in an instant.Roger reached over to the table and ripped the phone cord from the wall.

"The police will arrive soon and give you five minutes to escape," he said to Barry.

Barry sprinted out of the pneumatic doors on his red sneakers.

"I'll take the hallway to the right," Roger said. "He's probably hiding Sean in the closet at the end on the left." He didn't have to remind her to be careful, but he had to vaccinate her. "If you stray into the situation by mistake, the master may protect his slave. This is instinct, not an attack on you."

Marianne swore.

Roger took a deep breath.time does not wait. "action."

***

The client asked Pete to tie him up and humiliate him.It's downright boring.He was a stupid middle-aged man with a big belly, and his sensitivity was not very good. He only took five beats before he yelled the safe word.Instead of asking to be unbound, he called Pete tremblingly "Master" and his erection became more pronounced after licking Pete's feet.

Pete thought about Roger and looked at his watch. "Lick my feet, slave." As he spoke, he hit the man's ass with the whip.

The man howled, drooling all over Pete's feet.Pete sighed and said, "Okay, here we go." So he pushed the man aside with his foot.As he left, the man was still bound and kneeling, with his wrists and ankles bound and a mouth ball.

The man was bound and kneeling on the ground with his butt in the air, wondering what was going to happen next.He's never paid to play this, and it's beyond his wildest dreams.Time passed by, and he heard a series of hurried footsteps coming from outside, and then there was a bang, the door was obviously kicked open by someone.

A beautiful woman in high heels rushed into the room holding a large black pistol.

He will definitely come here again in the future.

***

Roger's heart sank when he heard the sound of Marian kicking the door into the house.The rooms are soundproof, but the entire building is not.It is likely that Pete has heard the movement.He tiptoed along the corridor, carefully trying the doorknobs one by one.He found a room locked, and immediately knocked lightly on the door a few times.A masked figure glared at him through the crack of the door.

"Sorry," Roger whispered, "I'm looking for Pete."

"I don't know." The man said in a hoarse voice and closed the door.

He slowly approached the last door of this corridor.The door was also locked, so he lay on it and listened.Can't hear anything.He waited a little longer, more patient than he expected, but still heard nothing.Well, if he judges wrong, he will offend others badly.

He kicked open the door.Sean, gagged, naked, sprawled on top of a rocking horse and chained.He completely blocked Pete, who was smiling at Roger while holding a gun to Sean's temple.

"Roger," Pete said, "I've been waiting for you."

"I know, Pete. Sorry I'm late."

"You have let me down too much."

Roger's eyes scanned the room.The dungeon rooms are small, constructed of coal bricks, and the walls are covered with foam sound insulation.There are no windows, only a door.The ceilings of the rooms he'd been in before had been hooked up to powerful ventilation systems.The sweat and body odor emitted by people when they are extremely excited will be promptly and thoroughly replaced.

If the SWAT team was coming through the air duct, Pete would definitely hear it.

Pete tried the pistol trigger slowly. "Roger, put the gun down."

Roger slowly lowered the gun to the ground.

Pete chuckled and said, "Come inside now and close the door."

Roger's heart was beating like thunder, and he felt that he could no longer hear what he was saying. "I'm sorry I let you down, Pete."

"Indeed, Roger. You know, I was counting on you to come on time, as always."

"I took a detour," Roger confessed, looking around the room, calculating the ratio of time and distance. "Teddy's relationship with the security company..."

"Teddy wants to betray," Pete said tremulously. "He can't be trusted."

"So you shot him."

"I thought he was distracting you, Roger. Then I realized it was Sean."

Roger glanced quickly at Sean, but he didn't dare to let his attention down on Pete.

"It was my fault, Pete. It was nobody's fault. How would I make it up to you?"

Pete's eyes widened, and his smile told Roger he wasn't hooked. "Oh," he said, "you think you can save him. Oh, no, Roger. You're late. He'll be dead before we leave."

A primal bestiality rose within Roger - the kind of animality he'd been trying to control.When he tried to restrain himself, his whole body trembled.Pete laughed. "Ah, that's right, this is the man I know."

"There can only be two outcomes of this, Pete," said Roger, "and one of them is that you will die."

"But he's going to die either way," Pete said.He meant Sean.

Roger couldn't look at Sean.He'd lose control, jump at Pete, or do something else irrational.He was almost certain that this was exactly what Pete wanted and expected.

Roger's eyes flicked around again.He didn't close the door securely, and through the crack he could see Marianne in the hallway, and maybe another agent.Roger knew Sean was watching him intently.Although he didn't dare to look towards Sean, Roger could feel his focused gaze.He couldn't guess what Sean's mental state was like now.He may be paying attention to his surroundings, or he may be overwhelmed by what is happening.

To Roger's right stands a cabinet from which Pete takes props.The discarded cat whip was casually placed on the table over there.

Roger looked up into Pete's eyes, mentally calculating the distance to the table and how long it would take.But if Pete keeps pointing the gun at Sean, it's impossible for him to do anything.

Pete looked at him and laughed.Maybe he put the whip there on purpose, to trick Roger.

Roger quickly glanced at the door, and saw that Marianne was ready to go.He saw her gun and the sniper's rifle behind her approaching the door.

"I'm surprised you're wasting so much time with him, Pete," Roger said. "The other men aren't as good as he is."

"Oh, he surprised me," Pete said.

A rage ran up Roger's spine, and he had to suppress himself. "It's still the same sentence. You can't choose this time."

"Oh, it's not me who's picking," Pete said, "it's me."

The sniper could estimate the distance based on Pete's voice, but he wouldn't risk hurting Sean if he couldn't see it.

Sean's eyes were bright, blue with electric light.He stared at Roger intently.

Roger put on a focused look, nodded to Pete and said, "How did those people choose you?"

Pete looked skeptical, but he was happy to answer the question. "I know the time has come when the man will call me, and..."

As he spoke, Roger looked at the wooden horse with Sean tied to it.He looked away again.Sean's feet were bound, but his knees were bent, and his legs were shaking under the strain.Pete leaned against him, almost casually, with a gun to his head.

All he had to do was get Pete to move the gun away a bit...

Pete looked at the top of Sean's head and frowned. "They want to be free," he said, "and I'm going to let them be free."

"You..." That was a horrible thought, "You flog them to death?"

"No, the whipping wasn't enough. They needed me to use the stick. It was a long process. They finally ascended like angels."

Before speaking, Roger had to suppress the anger in his heart: "But a simple one-shot kill is too unartistic, Pete. Any gangster can do it. And you are not a gangster, Pete."

"I'm not," Pete said. "It's time." And then something amazing happened: Sean jerked up and Pete staggered backward.The gun was completely off.

Roger threw himself at the whip, and the door swung open in an instant.Pete steadied himself again, lowering the muzzle of the gun toward the back of Sean's head, trying to aim again, but the catwhip hit his hand and the sniper delivered a fatal shot to the head.His body collided with the cross behind him, and he finally fell to the ground, breathless.