Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Yes Master, My Master ❯ Part 6 ( Chapter 6 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Spider_Queen 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Hentai / Drama / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.20.2001 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 670 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Hentai / Drama / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.20.2001 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 670 | Status: Completed
Quatre pressed against the cold, hard wall, his eyes closed. He tried his hardest to block out the sounds, smells and cold stone that was against his back, though that seemed to be impossible to him.
He was painfully aware of the cold metal cuffs that secured his wrists to the wall; the stiffness in his splinted arm that did little but remind him of the past; the soft footsteps of Gabriel as he secured a helpless child in the center of the room, and the child's soft whimpers.
How long had Quatre lived in this world of pain now? Gabriel had told him only this morning......a month, that was it. Only a month? It felt so much longer.....it felt like a lifetime since Quatre had felt safe or comfortable, even in his own mind, his own dreams. A month since he'd been pulled away from his life as a Gundam pilot and heir to the Winner fortune, and. It had been over two weeks since Gabriel had started his daily "sacrifices" in an attempt to get Quatre interested in giving pain for personal pleasure. Quatre had seen sixteen boys tortured and killed by Gabriel. Quatre hated it-he could remember each scream, each pair of pleading eyes, each crack of the whip-or Gabriels' fist........
"Little one," Quatre slowly raised his eyes, forcing himself to meet Gabriel's dark ones, though he refused to look at the boy that was chained up before him. The child would die soon-perhaps it would hurt the young Arabian less if he didn't let himself look on the other....
Gabriel walked over to Quatre, to the blonde's surprise, and carefully unlatched the shackles from around Quatre's wrists. Slowly, Quatre lowered his arms, his blue eyes focusing on his hands as though he had never seen them before. What was Gabriel doing? He had never released him before, not when he was going to....do what he was going to do now. The dark man realized that the sadism still made Quatre feel sick to the stomach, that given half an opportunity the pilot would turn away, hide himself as best as he could, as though he couldn't see the pain; couldn't hear the screams then they were not real....
Quatre raised his eyes again to stare at Gabriel's pale face. The demon-like man gave Quatre a half smile that would seem almost sympathetic and kind, had Quatre not known better. Black eyes sparkled as Gabriel slipped a warm, strong arm around Quatre's thin shoulders and pulled him away from the wall. "Come little one," He said in his softly accented voice. Quatre tried not to flinch at the painful nickname, but, even after weeks of hearing it on this man's lips, he could not restrain himself. "I have something special for you this evening,"
Special? Quatre didn't like the sound of that......his eyes slid involuntarily over to the child chained in the center of the room, though his mind failed to take in any details about him. If he paid attention, the faces only returned to haunt him in his dreams-if he didn't look, he was safer; he was more detached.... Was Gabriel not going to harm the boy? No.....that was far from the dark man's style.....more likely, Gabriel was going to harm the child worse.....
Dark eyes bore down into Quatre as though trying to read his soul, and Gabriel's smile widened, loosing some of it's gentleness. "You are curious, little Quatre, that I can see," Quatre didn't speak-he was curious, and somehow that frightened him. With his arm still securely around his young captive, Gabriel started forward, slowly heading towards the center of the room. He lowered his face until his slender nose was buried in Quatre's soft, blond hair. "Tell me what's on your mind, little prince," he breathed, causing the Arabian to flinch again.
Quatre pulled his head as far from Gabriel's face as the older man would allow him, and remained silent. Gabriel gave a low chuckled as he straightened. "Shall I guess then?" he asked in the sort of voice one would use at a dinner party of social event, rather than stalking talking in their dungeon....
Quatre glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye, but did not respond. He didn't want to hear Gabriel's voice, or his plans. He didn't want to know how the other man saw him.....he hoped that he was viewed as a weakling, or waste of time-then perhaps the older man would simply give up and kill him. He didn't know how much more he could take. The pain he felt in his body and heart had long ago surpassed anything he had felt before, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take before he was broken-or dead.
"You are thinking," Gabriel mused as he steered Quatre in a circle around the still-chained boy. Quatre focused his aquamarine eyes on the floor, refusing to even glance at the other boy. "You are thinking that you do not want to know what my surprise is-it can't be good....yet you are curious in spite of yourself..." Quatre glanced sharply up at the other man, stopping in his tracks, blond brows furrowed. Yes...that had been what he was thinking-yet how did Gabriel know that? Had the dark sadist read him so well?
Gabriel stopped walking and smiled down at Quatre-that same, gentle smile that made Quatre's insides twist and knot. "And now you're wondering how I knew," The dark man leaned close, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "I know, because I was just like you once,"
Quatre shuddered. No, no! There was no similarity between them, there never was, never would be! No matter what, Quatre would NOT grow to enjoy pain; he would NOT kidnap and torture or hurt other people........but, hadn't he already done that? In Sandrock? Hadn't he brought terror to enemies-and, while on the ZERO system, allies as well? Was he already closer to what Gabriel was than he would ever admit? Was it possible that the sadist was right, and Quatre would fall, would grow to enjoy the pain of others? That thought itself wrenched at his soul as much as the whip ever did his flesh....
"And you're right," Gabriel was continuing, not oblivious to Quatre's divided attention, but ignoring that the boy was deep in thought. "You are probably right-you won't like my surprise, not now anyhow....over time you will come to find it......stimulating." His lips quirked upward as he pulled his arm from around Quatre's shoulders. Quatre looked at him, as Gabriel took a step back. For the first time, Quatre noticed the flogger in Gabriel's right hand-was that the surprise? Was Quatre to be whipped again? Aside from rape, Quatre hadn't been physically abused since the first child had died; though he was still stiff, sore and bruised from his earlier beatings. He would prefer that pain, though, than watching as Gabriel hurt another....
Gabriel calmly extended his hand, his slender fingers curled slightly around the flogger that rested in his palm. Quatre stared down at the instrument, not comprehending what Gabriel was doing....did he want Quatre to---?
"No!" Quatre shouted, his head lifting with a snap, wide eyes locking onto Gabriel's pale and completely serious face. "No," he repeated, taking a step backward, nearly bumping into the other boy, who whimpered; his blond head shaking furiously. "I'll not do it, I won't fall into your little games,"
"Well," Gabriel said, his voice changing ever so slightly, growing more.......devious? His fingers closed around the flogger's handle, and for a moment the blond Arabian thought that he was going to be beaten-and stiffened with anticipation. "I can't FORCE you to," Quatre's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Gabriel looked past Quatre, focusing on the boy behind him, that Quatre still refused to give so much as a glance to. "You know that.......But I can hurt you-and others...." His cold eyes locked onto Quatre again. "I wonder how your dear Trowa would look in chains......"
Blue eyes widened in horror at the thought of Trowa being put through the agony that was all Gabriel could offer. "He is tall and thin....not bad looking," The other man continued, describing Trowa as if he'd known the pilot personally, smiling slightly. "He would probably take this child's place well, or..." he paused, given thoughts time to race frantically through Quatre's mind. Thoughts of Trowa being beaten, raped; hurt..... "Nanashi is strong, he'd not be a Gundam pilot if he weren't and his history with mercenaries....perhaps he'd take your place better....unless of course, you'd prefer to save him from that fate..."
Quatre found his knees growing weaker; his breaths growing shallow as Gabriel uncurled his fingers and offered Quatre the whip once again.
To lose himself, or to lose Trowa to this monster? He...Quatre, was already lost....he would not let his beloved fall into the same trap, share his fate....
Slowly, numbly, Quatre extended his hand to take the flogger from Gabriel. He felt disconnected, as his pale fingers curled around the leather handle and slowly lifted it out of Gabriel's hand.
The whip was heavier than Quatre had expected, it's handle think and wrapped with heavy, black leather. Slowly, the blond lifted the weapon, his eyes running over it. Was this the end of him? He felt like it could be....he felt like he had been broken, like his identity was standing at a precipice, waiting for someone to shove him over-and that someone was to be Gabriel.
"Turn around, little one..." Quatre raised his eyes from the leather torture device to stare at Gabriel briefly. Gabriel looked back, with little expression. For a moment Quatre nearly dropped the whip, and turned to run from the room, but an image of his Trowa, naked andchained up; slash marks marring his skin stopped him. Quatre knew that running would be useless-Gabriel would catch him, kill the other child, and then hurt Trowa....
Quatre took a deep breath, and forced himself to turn. The boy that was chained there stared at him with wide eyes, a pale blue in color. He was older than the other's Gabriel had brought for Quatre-almost Quatre's age, in fact, with light brown hair cropped neatly so it was flat against his head. He was naked already, and shivering; his arms were secured behind his back and over his head, in such a way that if he were not on his toes, his arms would be pulled from their sockets. He was watching Quatre with undisguised fear.
The Arabian felt bile rising in his throat, but he forced himself to keep his meager lunch in his stomach. He took a hesitant step towards the boy, who pulled away slightly, whimpering in pain and fear. Quatre felt tears building in his eyes-could he do it? Could he do what was required of him to save his Trowa?
"Whats your name?" He heard his hoarse voice saying.
For a second the teenager stared at Quatre, silent, then he whispered, so softly that the pilot had to strain his ears to hear, "Teren Jax."
Quatre took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Teren," he said, with absolute sincerity. "But I have no choice....."
Quatre glanced back over his shoulder-Gabriel stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression blank-it was obvious that he was waiting for Quatre to begin though. Feeling sick, the sweet pilot forced himself to raise the flogger in the manner that Gabriel had demonstrated so many times. Tears stung his eyes, causing his vision to blur slightly, as he brought the flogger down against the bare skin with a crack. Teren cried out in pain, even though Quatre had hit him as lightly as he could without trouble from Gabriel. Much to the blonde's dismay, a welt began to form on the side of Teren's torso.
Gabriel paced around his two captives, eyes scarping over Teren, then pausing on Quatre, who wore an expression of disgust and self-hatred. "Again." he commanded softly.
Gritting his teeth the pilot raised the whip again, and snapped it lightly across the younger boy's back. The brown haired teenager's cry was strangled and painful sounding though it didn't hold the intensity that the ones brought on by Gabriel did.
Forcing himself to breathe, Quatre once again brought the flogger back. "Harder this time, little one," Gabriel said, as though he were a teacher giving a lesson.
Quatre felt his muscles tense up at Gabriel's words, and without thinking, he'd spun on his bare heel and cracked the whip at Gabriel, with as much force as he could muster. Gabriel gave him a startled look, and then-to Quatre's surprise-started to laugh, even while Quatre prepared to hit him again.
"Oh little prince," Gabriel said, between uncharacteristic gales of laughter, ignoring the venomous glare that Quatre had fixed on him. "Do you really think you can hurt me?" Quatre brought the whip down again, just as Gabriel raised an arm. His large hand caught hold of the flogger, holding it immobilized, even at Quatre tugged on it.
"I was trained by someone who had made his life out of pain," Gabriel said, all laughter gone, his voice ominous and frightening. "He had been a true Master, like I am now, and like you will be one day. He knew techniques that would bring pain unimaginable to someone like yourself, yet not do any lasting harm. And he practiced these on me." Quatre sucked in a breath at Gabriel's cold words. What was he saying? "You, little one, couldn't hurt me, no matter what weapon you had in your possession." With a sharp tug, the flogger had slid out of Quatre's grip.
Gabriel caught the whip's handle, letting go of the end, as he watched his blond captive. "Never," he hissed slowly. "Believe you can win against me. You can't." He drew back the whip, and Quatre tensed himself for the pain that would follow. "And NEVER start something you won't finish."
The flogger sailed through the air, connecting with Quatre's bare skin. Despite himself, Quatre let out a cry of pain, his eyes watering up as he sank to his knees in agony. Gabriel had been serious and true to his words-the pain from that one hit surpassed any other that he had inflicted.
Without warning, Quatre felt the leather connect against his backside, with a sharp crack and tinge of pain.
Gabriel was fast, and quickly rained hits upon the helpless pilot: his back; inner thigh; waist; stomach all became prey to the whip welding sadist. Quatre quickly lost count of the blows as his world circled the pain. After a while, the ex-pilot could no longer feel the individual whip slashes, just the agony brought on by them-and Gabriel stopped.
Quatre was curled on the dirty floor, his chin against his chest, and arm wrapped around his neck in an attempt to cover himself. His skin burned-he felt as though he had been flayed alive.
There was a thump near his head, and Quatre cautiously opened his eyes, tilting his head so that he could see. On the floor, not far away, lay the flogger. About half a dozen paces beyond it, Gabriel stood, arms crossed over his chest, his expression cold and hard.
"Stand up," the sadist ordered as the blond painfully uncurled from the fetal position. "And finish what you've started."
He was painfully aware of the cold metal cuffs that secured his wrists to the wall; the stiffness in his splinted arm that did little but remind him of the past; the soft footsteps of Gabriel as he secured a helpless child in the center of the room, and the child's soft whimpers.
How long had Quatre lived in this world of pain now? Gabriel had told him only this morning......a month, that was it. Only a month? It felt so much longer.....it felt like a lifetime since Quatre had felt safe or comfortable, even in his own mind, his own dreams. A month since he'd been pulled away from his life as a Gundam pilot and heir to the Winner fortune, and. It had been over two weeks since Gabriel had started his daily "sacrifices" in an attempt to get Quatre interested in giving pain for personal pleasure. Quatre had seen sixteen boys tortured and killed by Gabriel. Quatre hated it-he could remember each scream, each pair of pleading eyes, each crack of the whip-or Gabriels' fist........
"Little one," Quatre slowly raised his eyes, forcing himself to meet Gabriel's dark ones, though he refused to look at the boy that was chained up before him. The child would die soon-perhaps it would hurt the young Arabian less if he didn't let himself look on the other....
Gabriel walked over to Quatre, to the blonde's surprise, and carefully unlatched the shackles from around Quatre's wrists. Slowly, Quatre lowered his arms, his blue eyes focusing on his hands as though he had never seen them before. What was Gabriel doing? He had never released him before, not when he was going to....do what he was going to do now. The dark man realized that the sadism still made Quatre feel sick to the stomach, that given half an opportunity the pilot would turn away, hide himself as best as he could, as though he couldn't see the pain; couldn't hear the screams then they were not real....
Quatre raised his eyes again to stare at Gabriel's pale face. The demon-like man gave Quatre a half smile that would seem almost sympathetic and kind, had Quatre not known better. Black eyes sparkled as Gabriel slipped a warm, strong arm around Quatre's thin shoulders and pulled him away from the wall. "Come little one," He said in his softly accented voice. Quatre tried not to flinch at the painful nickname, but, even after weeks of hearing it on this man's lips, he could not restrain himself. "I have something special for you this evening,"
Special? Quatre didn't like the sound of that......his eyes slid involuntarily over to the child chained in the center of the room, though his mind failed to take in any details about him. If he paid attention, the faces only returned to haunt him in his dreams-if he didn't look, he was safer; he was more detached.... Was Gabriel not going to harm the boy? No.....that was far from the dark man's style.....more likely, Gabriel was going to harm the child worse.....
Dark eyes bore down into Quatre as though trying to read his soul, and Gabriel's smile widened, loosing some of it's gentleness. "You are curious, little Quatre, that I can see," Quatre didn't speak-he was curious, and somehow that frightened him. With his arm still securely around his young captive, Gabriel started forward, slowly heading towards the center of the room. He lowered his face until his slender nose was buried in Quatre's soft, blond hair. "Tell me what's on your mind, little prince," he breathed, causing the Arabian to flinch again.
Quatre pulled his head as far from Gabriel's face as the older man would allow him, and remained silent. Gabriel gave a low chuckled as he straightened. "Shall I guess then?" he asked in the sort of voice one would use at a dinner party of social event, rather than stalking talking in their dungeon....
Quatre glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye, but did not respond. He didn't want to hear Gabriel's voice, or his plans. He didn't want to know how the other man saw him.....he hoped that he was viewed as a weakling, or waste of time-then perhaps the older man would simply give up and kill him. He didn't know how much more he could take. The pain he felt in his body and heart had long ago surpassed anything he had felt before, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take before he was broken-or dead.
"You are thinking," Gabriel mused as he steered Quatre in a circle around the still-chained boy. Quatre focused his aquamarine eyes on the floor, refusing to even glance at the other boy. "You are thinking that you do not want to know what my surprise is-it can't be good....yet you are curious in spite of yourself..." Quatre glanced sharply up at the other man, stopping in his tracks, blond brows furrowed. Yes...that had been what he was thinking-yet how did Gabriel know that? Had the dark sadist read him so well?
Gabriel stopped walking and smiled down at Quatre-that same, gentle smile that made Quatre's insides twist and knot. "And now you're wondering how I knew," The dark man leaned close, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "I know, because I was just like you once,"
Quatre shuddered. No, no! There was no similarity between them, there never was, never would be! No matter what, Quatre would NOT grow to enjoy pain; he would NOT kidnap and torture or hurt other people........but, hadn't he already done that? In Sandrock? Hadn't he brought terror to enemies-and, while on the ZERO system, allies as well? Was he already closer to what Gabriel was than he would ever admit? Was it possible that the sadist was right, and Quatre would fall, would grow to enjoy the pain of others? That thought itself wrenched at his soul as much as the whip ever did his flesh....
"And you're right," Gabriel was continuing, not oblivious to Quatre's divided attention, but ignoring that the boy was deep in thought. "You are probably right-you won't like my surprise, not now anyhow....over time you will come to find it......stimulating." His lips quirked upward as he pulled his arm from around Quatre's shoulders. Quatre looked at him, as Gabriel took a step back. For the first time, Quatre noticed the flogger in Gabriel's right hand-was that the surprise? Was Quatre to be whipped again? Aside from rape, Quatre hadn't been physically abused since the first child had died; though he was still stiff, sore and bruised from his earlier beatings. He would prefer that pain, though, than watching as Gabriel hurt another....
Gabriel calmly extended his hand, his slender fingers curled slightly around the flogger that rested in his palm. Quatre stared down at the instrument, not comprehending what Gabriel was doing....did he want Quatre to---?
"No!" Quatre shouted, his head lifting with a snap, wide eyes locking onto Gabriel's pale and completely serious face. "No," he repeated, taking a step backward, nearly bumping into the other boy, who whimpered; his blond head shaking furiously. "I'll not do it, I won't fall into your little games,"
"Well," Gabriel said, his voice changing ever so slightly, growing more.......devious? His fingers closed around the flogger's handle, and for a moment the blond Arabian thought that he was going to be beaten-and stiffened with anticipation. "I can't FORCE you to," Quatre's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Gabriel looked past Quatre, focusing on the boy behind him, that Quatre still refused to give so much as a glance to. "You know that.......But I can hurt you-and others...." His cold eyes locked onto Quatre again. "I wonder how your dear Trowa would look in chains......"
Blue eyes widened in horror at the thought of Trowa being put through the agony that was all Gabriel could offer. "He is tall and thin....not bad looking," The other man continued, describing Trowa as if he'd known the pilot personally, smiling slightly. "He would probably take this child's place well, or..." he paused, given thoughts time to race frantically through Quatre's mind. Thoughts of Trowa being beaten, raped; hurt..... "Nanashi is strong, he'd not be a Gundam pilot if he weren't and his history with mercenaries....perhaps he'd take your place better....unless of course, you'd prefer to save him from that fate..."
Quatre found his knees growing weaker; his breaths growing shallow as Gabriel uncurled his fingers and offered Quatre the whip once again.
To lose himself, or to lose Trowa to this monster? He...Quatre, was already lost....he would not let his beloved fall into the same trap, share his fate....
Slowly, numbly, Quatre extended his hand to take the flogger from Gabriel. He felt disconnected, as his pale fingers curled around the leather handle and slowly lifted it out of Gabriel's hand.
The whip was heavier than Quatre had expected, it's handle think and wrapped with heavy, black leather. Slowly, the blond lifted the weapon, his eyes running over it. Was this the end of him? He felt like it could be....he felt like he had been broken, like his identity was standing at a precipice, waiting for someone to shove him over-and that someone was to be Gabriel.
"Turn around, little one..." Quatre raised his eyes from the leather torture device to stare at Gabriel briefly. Gabriel looked back, with little expression. For a moment Quatre nearly dropped the whip, and turned to run from the room, but an image of his Trowa, naked andchained up; slash marks marring his skin stopped him. Quatre knew that running would be useless-Gabriel would catch him, kill the other child, and then hurt Trowa....
Quatre took a deep breath, and forced himself to turn. The boy that was chained there stared at him with wide eyes, a pale blue in color. He was older than the other's Gabriel had brought for Quatre-almost Quatre's age, in fact, with light brown hair cropped neatly so it was flat against his head. He was naked already, and shivering; his arms were secured behind his back and over his head, in such a way that if he were not on his toes, his arms would be pulled from their sockets. He was watching Quatre with undisguised fear.
The Arabian felt bile rising in his throat, but he forced himself to keep his meager lunch in his stomach. He took a hesitant step towards the boy, who pulled away slightly, whimpering in pain and fear. Quatre felt tears building in his eyes-could he do it? Could he do what was required of him to save his Trowa?
"Whats your name?" He heard his hoarse voice saying.
For a second the teenager stared at Quatre, silent, then he whispered, so softly that the pilot had to strain his ears to hear, "Teren Jax."
Quatre took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Teren," he said, with absolute sincerity. "But I have no choice....."
Quatre glanced back over his shoulder-Gabriel stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression blank-it was obvious that he was waiting for Quatre to begin though. Feeling sick, the sweet pilot forced himself to raise the flogger in the manner that Gabriel had demonstrated so many times. Tears stung his eyes, causing his vision to blur slightly, as he brought the flogger down against the bare skin with a crack. Teren cried out in pain, even though Quatre had hit him as lightly as he could without trouble from Gabriel. Much to the blonde's dismay, a welt began to form on the side of Teren's torso.
Gabriel paced around his two captives, eyes scarping over Teren, then pausing on Quatre, who wore an expression of disgust and self-hatred. "Again." he commanded softly.
Gritting his teeth the pilot raised the whip again, and snapped it lightly across the younger boy's back. The brown haired teenager's cry was strangled and painful sounding though it didn't hold the intensity that the ones brought on by Gabriel did.
Forcing himself to breathe, Quatre once again brought the flogger back. "Harder this time, little one," Gabriel said, as though he were a teacher giving a lesson.
Quatre felt his muscles tense up at Gabriel's words, and without thinking, he'd spun on his bare heel and cracked the whip at Gabriel, with as much force as he could muster. Gabriel gave him a startled look, and then-to Quatre's surprise-started to laugh, even while Quatre prepared to hit him again.
"Oh little prince," Gabriel said, between uncharacteristic gales of laughter, ignoring the venomous glare that Quatre had fixed on him. "Do you really think you can hurt me?" Quatre brought the whip down again, just as Gabriel raised an arm. His large hand caught hold of the flogger, holding it immobilized, even at Quatre tugged on it.
"I was trained by someone who had made his life out of pain," Gabriel said, all laughter gone, his voice ominous and frightening. "He had been a true Master, like I am now, and like you will be one day. He knew techniques that would bring pain unimaginable to someone like yourself, yet not do any lasting harm. And he practiced these on me." Quatre sucked in a breath at Gabriel's cold words. What was he saying? "You, little one, couldn't hurt me, no matter what weapon you had in your possession." With a sharp tug, the flogger had slid out of Quatre's grip.
Gabriel caught the whip's handle, letting go of the end, as he watched his blond captive. "Never," he hissed slowly. "Believe you can win against me. You can't." He drew back the whip, and Quatre tensed himself for the pain that would follow. "And NEVER start something you won't finish."
The flogger sailed through the air, connecting with Quatre's bare skin. Despite himself, Quatre let out a cry of pain, his eyes watering up as he sank to his knees in agony. Gabriel had been serious and true to his words-the pain from that one hit surpassed any other that he had inflicted.
Without warning, Quatre felt the leather connect against his backside, with a sharp crack and tinge of pain.
Gabriel was fast, and quickly rained hits upon the helpless pilot: his back; inner thigh; waist; stomach all became prey to the whip welding sadist. Quatre quickly lost count of the blows as his world circled the pain. After a while, the ex-pilot could no longer feel the individual whip slashes, just the agony brought on by them-and Gabriel stopped.
Quatre was curled on the dirty floor, his chin against his chest, and arm wrapped around his neck in an attempt to cover himself. His skin burned-he felt as though he had been flayed alive.
There was a thump near his head, and Quatre cautiously opened his eyes, tilting his head so that he could see. On the floor, not far away, lay the flogger. About half a dozen paces beyond it, Gabriel stood, arms crossed over his chest, his expression cold and hard.
"Stand up," the sadist ordered as the blond painfully uncurled from the fetal position. "And finish what you've started."