Break Down
folder
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
884
Reviews:
28
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
884
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.
4
Chapter 4
“Have the prisoner transferred to one of my private detention cells,” the general ordered, making his way back out of the tiny cell.
“But sir, the boy has been left in my charge,” the commander argued vehemently.
The general stared icily at him. “This....dangerous prisoner, left in your charge? I don’t think Rufus will agree to that little arrangement when he finds out the, savagery, that this boy is capable of, do you?” he asked, his tone mocking, his contempt for the other man plain to hear. “Much better that he is dealt with by someone who knows how to handle him...no? Someone like, oh I don’t know....Me?”
The familiar use of the Shin-Ra leader’s first name did not go amiss on the commander. He shut his mouth, and wisely argued no more.
“And get him cleaned up, he stinks,” Sephiroth barked, the flippant command cast back over one broad shoulder as he walked through the outer door that led to the corridor.
“What about new clothes for him, sir? Just a tunic, or a complete outfit?”
The general barely gave the question a thought before replying.
“No. I want him to remain naked after he‘s been bathed. If he wants to have clothes on his back, let him earn them. He’s going to learn that anything I allow him here…. is a privilege. Even the very air that he breathes.”
With the departure of the general, the commander threw a bundle of keys towards the cadet, swapping the cane he was still holding for the Arbettor.
“Undo him, and take him over to the shower,” he instructed, his finger flicking the switch of the weapon onto a higher setting.
The prisoner put up no resistance as he was half dragged towards the cubicle. He made no effort to stop the young lad taking off what little remained of his clothing either. It wasn’t worth fighting over, the material just rags now after the pullings and the tearings it had endured at the hands of the many men it had needed to take him down.
He sank huddled on his knees as the other boy hosed him down with cold water, deliberately letting the spray linger over his head, the freezing droplets chilling him to the bone and causing his flesh to pimple, and his body to tremble.
When the commander was satisfied that the captive was clean enough, he ordered the cadet to fetch shackles and a collar. At this, the prisoner finally raised his head, and stared up with a spark of rebellion in his eyes.
“Do it. Give me a reason to use this,” the commander hissed, aiming the gun.
When the boy didn’t move, the cadet cautiously approached him, nervously attaching the iron restraints and locking them, before fastening a chain to the small eyelet on the collar and handing the end of the metal leash to his commander.
Tugged ungraciously to his feet by the pull on his neck, the prisoner found himself being led out of the room like a dog.
“Say goodbye to any creature comforts you might have enjoyed here,” the commander taunted, jerking and yanking needlessly on the chain while he walked ahead, forcing the unclothed, tethered boy to stumble many times. “I’m sure you’ll be wishing to come back before too long.”
The softly lit cell the prisoner was now dragged into was sterile and clean, the ceiling, floor and walls pristine white, not a spot of any other colour to be seen. No window, barred or otherwise, graced the small room, the only items of interest being a thin padded white mattress, a tap in one corner, and a small grate embedded in the floor for liquids and body waste to be flushed away.
“Welcome to your new home,” the commander jeered, taking the end of the chain he held and fixing it securely to a fastening on the wall opposite the entrance, making sure the captive was held fast, before going out, and slamming the door.
Left alone, the imprisoned boy looked around him. The room may well have been pure, innocent white, but he knew he was in Hell.
“Have the prisoner transferred to one of my private detention cells,” the general ordered, making his way back out of the tiny cell.
“But sir, the boy has been left in my charge,” the commander argued vehemently.
The general stared icily at him. “This....dangerous prisoner, left in your charge? I don’t think Rufus will agree to that little arrangement when he finds out the, savagery, that this boy is capable of, do you?” he asked, his tone mocking, his contempt for the other man plain to hear. “Much better that he is dealt with by someone who knows how to handle him...no? Someone like, oh I don’t know....Me?”
The familiar use of the Shin-Ra leader’s first name did not go amiss on the commander. He shut his mouth, and wisely argued no more.
“And get him cleaned up, he stinks,” Sephiroth barked, the flippant command cast back over one broad shoulder as he walked through the outer door that led to the corridor.
“What about new clothes for him, sir? Just a tunic, or a complete outfit?”
The general barely gave the question a thought before replying.
“No. I want him to remain naked after he‘s been bathed. If he wants to have clothes on his back, let him earn them. He’s going to learn that anything I allow him here…. is a privilege. Even the very air that he breathes.”
With the departure of the general, the commander threw a bundle of keys towards the cadet, swapping the cane he was still holding for the Arbettor.
“Undo him, and take him over to the shower,” he instructed, his finger flicking the switch of the weapon onto a higher setting.
The prisoner put up no resistance as he was half dragged towards the cubicle. He made no effort to stop the young lad taking off what little remained of his clothing either. It wasn’t worth fighting over, the material just rags now after the pullings and the tearings it had endured at the hands of the many men it had needed to take him down.
He sank huddled on his knees as the other boy hosed him down with cold water, deliberately letting the spray linger over his head, the freezing droplets chilling him to the bone and causing his flesh to pimple, and his body to tremble.
When the commander was satisfied that the captive was clean enough, he ordered the cadet to fetch shackles and a collar. At this, the prisoner finally raised his head, and stared up with a spark of rebellion in his eyes.
“Do it. Give me a reason to use this,” the commander hissed, aiming the gun.
When the boy didn’t move, the cadet cautiously approached him, nervously attaching the iron restraints and locking them, before fastening a chain to the small eyelet on the collar and handing the end of the metal leash to his commander.
Tugged ungraciously to his feet by the pull on his neck, the prisoner found himself being led out of the room like a dog.
“Say goodbye to any creature comforts you might have enjoyed here,” the commander taunted, jerking and yanking needlessly on the chain while he walked ahead, forcing the unclothed, tethered boy to stumble many times. “I’m sure you’ll be wishing to come back before too long.”
The softly lit cell the prisoner was now dragged into was sterile and clean, the ceiling, floor and walls pristine white, not a spot of any other colour to be seen. No window, barred or otherwise, graced the small room, the only items of interest being a thin padded white mattress, a tap in one corner, and a small grate embedded in the floor for liquids and body waste to be flushed away.
“Welcome to your new home,” the commander jeered, taking the end of the chain he held and fixing it securely to a fastening on the wall opposite the entrance, making sure the captive was held fast, before going out, and slamming the door.
Left alone, the imprisoned boy looked around him. The room may well have been pure, innocent white, but he knew he was in Hell.