Break Down
folder
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
880
Reviews:
28
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
880
Reviews:
28
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
2
Chapter 2
The young cadet waited beside the open cell door, watching excitedly as his commander beat the bound prisoner mercilessly, the blows raining down fast and hard, marking already battered and bloodied flesh. The sickening sound of the wooden cane striking against the unresisting body was interspaced with the gasps of shock and grunts of pain that were being forced from the captives throat, as the beating continued unabated.
The echoing thud of an approaching footfall on the hard flooring alerted the cadet to the arrival of the general.
“Sir,” he said, in warning to his commander.
Pausing, looking over his shoulder to see why he was being called, Commander Jameson saw the way the youth standing guard by the entrance rolled his eyes and jerked his head behind him, indicating that someone was coming. Tapping the cane in the palm of one hand, he sneered down at the beaten boy.
“Not so fucking mouthy now, are you?”
There was no response.
Directing a kick at the inert form, the heavily breathing commander emerged from the cell with a triumphant look on his face.
“Have you been having fun?”
The smile was wiped from the commander’s face in an instant, the private carnal pleasure he had experienced from issuing the whipping forgotten, as he confronted the stony faced general.
“The um, the prisoner was playing up sir. I had to show him some manners.”
“Manners? Is that what you were showing him?” the general asked bemused, as his gaze lowered.
The commander felt himself redden, the hardness in the front of his trousers being only too apparent.
“He should be docile enough for you to see now, General, sir,” he mumbled.
A small smile crept along the general’s face, as he looked down upon the powerfully built commander.
“Are you implying that I look like someone who needs a prisoner beaten, before I dare see them?” he asked, his words coming out slowly, an essence of menace behind them.
“I...I’m not implying anything General, its just.....” The commander mopped at his sweaty brow with the back of one hand. “That prisoner in there sir, before he was captured, he took down ten of our finest men, with his bare hands!”
The general gave a short snort of disdain, before pushing the commander aside from the door and walking into the cell, unafraid. He walked back out two seconds later, and grabbed the commander none too gently by the lapels of his jacket.
“Ok, you’ve had your fun. Now, show me the prisoner that took down ten strong men.”
Puzzled, the commander disengaged himself from the general’s hold and hurried over to the cell, peering in, half fearing to see it empty. A feeling of relief washed over him as he spied the boy still slumped upon the floor and chained to the wall, putting paid to the irrational ideal that the captive had somehow, impossibly, escaped. He turned back to the general, one arm pointing into the small room, a finger jabbing towards the motionless figure.
“That is the prisoner, sir.”
The general stepped forward again and stared down intently at the imprisoned boy, his eyes taking in every detail. A small, scrawny frame that barely filled out the tattered remains of clothing that still covered it, a skin so pale it showed every blemish and bruise, and a blond blood spattered head that was bowed in submission.
“This?” Sephiroth sneered. “This....pup...is what defeated ten of your men? What did he do, attack and bite their ankles?”
The young cadet waited beside the open cell door, watching excitedly as his commander beat the bound prisoner mercilessly, the blows raining down fast and hard, marking already battered and bloodied flesh. The sickening sound of the wooden cane striking against the unresisting body was interspaced with the gasps of shock and grunts of pain that were being forced from the captives throat, as the beating continued unabated.
The echoing thud of an approaching footfall on the hard flooring alerted the cadet to the arrival of the general.
“Sir,” he said, in warning to his commander.
Pausing, looking over his shoulder to see why he was being called, Commander Jameson saw the way the youth standing guard by the entrance rolled his eyes and jerked his head behind him, indicating that someone was coming. Tapping the cane in the palm of one hand, he sneered down at the beaten boy.
“Not so fucking mouthy now, are you?”
There was no response.
Directing a kick at the inert form, the heavily breathing commander emerged from the cell with a triumphant look on his face.
“Have you been having fun?”
The smile was wiped from the commander’s face in an instant, the private carnal pleasure he had experienced from issuing the whipping forgotten, as he confronted the stony faced general.
“The um, the prisoner was playing up sir. I had to show him some manners.”
“Manners? Is that what you were showing him?” the general asked bemused, as his gaze lowered.
The commander felt himself redden, the hardness in the front of his trousers being only too apparent.
“He should be docile enough for you to see now, General, sir,” he mumbled.
A small smile crept along the general’s face, as he looked down upon the powerfully built commander.
“Are you implying that I look like someone who needs a prisoner beaten, before I dare see them?” he asked, his words coming out slowly, an essence of menace behind them.
“I...I’m not implying anything General, its just.....” The commander mopped at his sweaty brow with the back of one hand. “That prisoner in there sir, before he was captured, he took down ten of our finest men, with his bare hands!”
The general gave a short snort of disdain, before pushing the commander aside from the door and walking into the cell, unafraid. He walked back out two seconds later, and grabbed the commander none too gently by the lapels of his jacket.
“Ok, you’ve had your fun. Now, show me the prisoner that took down ten strong men.”
Puzzled, the commander disengaged himself from the general’s hold and hurried over to the cell, peering in, half fearing to see it empty. A feeling of relief washed over him as he spied the boy still slumped upon the floor and chained to the wall, putting paid to the irrational ideal that the captive had somehow, impossibly, escaped. He turned back to the general, one arm pointing into the small room, a finger jabbing towards the motionless figure.
“That is the prisoner, sir.”
The general stepped forward again and stared down intently at the imprisoned boy, his eyes taking in every detail. A small, scrawny frame that barely filled out the tattered remains of clothing that still covered it, a skin so pale it showed every blemish and bruise, and a blond blood spattered head that was bowed in submission.
“This?” Sephiroth sneered. “This....pup...is what defeated ten of your men? What did he do, attack and bite their ankles?”