daredevilkink | Daredevil Prompt Post #8

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Daredevil Prompt Post #8

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Frank takes a couple of seconds to rub his eyes after he puts the bags down. They're heavy as fuck.

Then he tilts his head to the side, because nope, it doesn't make any more sense the longer he looks at it.

There is indeed what appears to be carrots, stirring spoons, a few spatulas, and the neck of a beer bottle stuffed inside Peter's ass.

The sight makes his cock harden, because apparently the universe hates him, so Frank takes a deep breath and says, calmly, "Matt, is that safe?"

Matt's older and appears to be more in charge of Peter, so he decides to direct his voice towards him.

"I'm not sure what you mean, master?"

Frank tries again. "Did you use enough lube?" Because that's at least something he can focus on.

"As much as was sensible, master."

Frank sighs and puts his hands over his face. His voice comes out muffled when he says "Do we need more lube?"

"It would be nice to have more, master," and Frank realizes that that's Matt's way of seeing if Frank will actually hit him or not.

The answer is no, so Frank just sighs and says, "Matt, why don't you make a shopping list, and put lube at the top, please?"

It's both painful and hilarious to watch Matt calmly stand up and go start rummaging through cabinets, writing down what they need on a piece of paper. His handwriting looks slow and painful, but Frank's surprised--Matt knows how to write.

That indicates things about his past that perhaps Frank can use to help him.

In the meantime, there's still Peter, awkwardly bent over a stool with his ass full of things which Frank's pretty sure were not made for sex.

He double-checks that he's fully locked the door--he has--and then goes over to Peter.

"You okay?" he asks.

Peter wriggles his ass, and Frank can see his leaking cock. He ignored it.

Peter says, quietly, "I'm--I'm not hurt, master."

Well, that's good. Frank remembers a little more of the book, and says to both him and Matt, "You know that what I meant the other day was for general purposes, right? You both can orgasm whenever you want, any time."

There's a shock, horrifically awkward silence, and Frank then says to Peter, "These aren't exactly meant for this, let's get them out," and starts pulling out and quietly throwing away the things in his ass.

Frank thinks about what to do next, and his skin crawls with the sheer embarrassment of the situation. He stands up, says, "I'll be back in fifteen," and goes out to get them some halfway decent supplies for sex. He never wants to worry about them seriously hurting each other, even if the beer bottle makes his dick twitch even now.

Matt: one object was good, so logically eight objects will be better! This plan couldn't possibly fail. Huh, I wonder why Master threw away the carrots. Maybe he doesn't like carrot soup

For real, though, I do like you write Frank and the boys trying to communicate despite the massive cultural gap

Every time I read about someone sticking a bottle in their ass I wonder how they'd cope if it created a vacuum effect and got stuck. I mean Frank probably knows how to carefully drill a hole in the bottle bc that's the kind of thing you learn in 'nam,

"Master likes object insertion. do ALL the object insertion"

Thanks!

I think that most of the time, the bottles are actually full/closed? Or put in, uh, neck facing out? That's how I've seen it mostly so far.

And oh god, that's the exact kind of crazy shit that Frank is totally trying to avoid, though I bet it's happened to Peter at some point.

Ok, that makes more sense.

The dark comedy of the 'victims of a deranged society'+ 'kids do the darndest things' makes for interesting re-reads. One to get the surprised (sometimes involuntary) laugh out, one to think about world building implications, and a couple more just to enjoy it. Good thing this isn't A03 or I would totally kill your view-to-kudos ratio

Probably. Think his previous owners sprung for an impromptu vet run or did they just get the toolbox and make whoever had the steadiest hands (probably Matt) try to figure it out?

Hrm...I think either way is plausible. Get a mob vet because lmao it's the mob, why not, or make the blind slut do it (since they're so ~bonded~ after all, it's not like Matt's hands are shaky anyways).

And thank you so much! I might put it on ao3 at some point, yeah. Can I ask what you find the most involuntarily funny?

#littlemobthings

Guess it would depend on how much they value the slaves (or how inconvenient it is to find a new one at this hour) they could have some sleazy Organic Mechanic-type doctor/vet to give them actual treatment bc it's hard to find slaves to suit their unique mob needs, or they could be burning through them at top speed. (Conspicuous consumption, eh?)

Maybe they considered Peter used up and were just gonna fuck his mouth then feed him to the dogs, but Matt intervened and that sounded like a much better proposition. Everyone's been to a mauling or seen that liveleak video of [NOPE].
A diy medical procedure being thought up by a mechanically inclined slave, then carried out by a blind slave? No one's seen that before. You gotta at least film their attempt

Sometimes I think about it being staged as a fucked up family sitcom with an unsettling laugh track. Especially during the awkward silences as Frank tries to take in Matt and Peter's latest scheme

oh dear god.. I confess, I had not quite considered them going 'lmao let's put this on failvideos, we gotta see this' and filming it

fuck, what if Frank finds the video? how badly is he going to kill everyone? (so very badly, if the Slaver arc from Punisher: MAX is any indication)

as the a!a I am so glad the unsettling/comedy of it is coming across; humor is really hard to write but dear god, these fucked up babies of mine just keep going further and further down the rabbit hole

Re: FILL, Pt 8/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-01-02 07:16 (UTC) - Expand

Re: FILL, Pt 8/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-01-02 07:26 (UTC) - Expand

Frank finds the least sleazy-looking sex supplies shop that's not too far away, parks, walks in, and stops dead in his tracks.

It's as big as a fucking Costco.

He takes a deep couple breaths, and then gets a cart, because he only ever really wants to do have to do this once. He's only getting this stuff because otherwise they'll keep doing it with unsafe things, given that he saw the gag-dildo and the torture device one in the trash as he was leaving.

And thus he searches.

The 'small' section looks too small to him. Frank doesn't actually have a great sense of scale in terms of dildoes, but given that Peter appeared to be pretty comfortable with an entire neck of a closed beer bottle and other...objects..in his ass, they looked tiny by comparison.

When he got to the 'medium' aisle, Frank realized that he had no idea what types of sex toys they actually want, so he decides to get one--no, two, fuck, he can't have them getting jealous or weird about it--of each sort.

Halfway through, as he agonizes over whether he should just drop this charade and mercy-kill these poor suckers, or try to find some rescue place to take them in, because clearly Frank is not up to task, a sales assistant comes up to him.

He stares at the guy, a reedy-looking guy with strangely shiny hair.

"How can I help you sir? Shopping for a friend, lover, wife, slave?"

Frank's face twitches. The guy mistakes the disdain for interest, apparently, or else must be part lemming, and then cheerfully goes on, "Slave then? Well, if you're planning to wear out one of the hungry ones, we've got a sale on a gallon of lube at the lube aisle, aisle seven! It comes in fourteen different flavors, ranging from white chocolate to passion fruit to lingonberry to birthday cake! Absolutely sugar-free and safe for all sexes of slaves."

Frank feels himself go cold like stone, leeching out any cheery warmth in the atmosphere. It's a surreal image: this bizarrely cheerful twerpy teenager telling him how to better rape a pair of victims, standing in a flourescent-lit warehouse with neon signs advertising what was in each aisle, Frank's coat closed over his blood-splattered chest plate.

He wanted to open fire right now, kill them all. Every last one. Stack the bodies in the corner and go three stores over and reload and shoot, keep going until the whole world was dead, just Matt and Peter and every single person like them left.

Not even him.

The sales associate had backed halfway away, and when Frank said, his voice not even resembling him, "I'm not interested," the guy bleated out, "We also have a series of training videos, demonstrating how our toys can be used on your toys in aisle ten--"

Frank said, voice the exact same, "I'm. Not. Interested. Fuck off."

The guy chirped as he fled, somehow still unnaturally smiling, "We also have plenty of ads for personal trainers to give them an oil change and a tune-up if you're ever interested!"

Frank watched the guy leave, feeling a lot like a crocodile that had singled out one particularly idiotic gazelle.

He turned back and saw a row of bright pink 'rabbits', whatever they were. He got two of the blue ones--more expensive, but he didn't care--and went on.

He did end up getting the gallon of lube, in bubblegum flavor, because Matt had said they needed it, and fuck if Frank wasn't going to at least try.

--

As he went up the stairs, Master seemed more...tightly wound than he had in days, so Matt turned off the pans on the oven and he and Peter obediently knelt. Masters enjoyed coming back to an orderly household with slaves that knew their place.

Except that Master didn't say anything, just put down the shopping bags and a gallon of something, and then went to the bedroom.

Matt and Peter consulted each other in whispers, and decided that Peter would clean as much off of everything as he could, and Matt would finish the food. Maybe Master just needed space. He seemed to clean his guns off a lot.

After the food, Master turned to them and said, calmly, "Those things in the shopping bags over there--" and he must have been pointing, and Matt panicked because he couldn't obey orders that required looking at things, and Masters hated giving clarifications-- "the ones that are to the left of you, Matt, are for you two. You can do whatever with them as long as neither of you injures either of you."

Oh, now Matt was curious as to what was in them. Were they chocolate or pet-play-toys or something?

Then Master continued gruffly, "I read that creating a comforting environment is important. Do either of you know how to make a blanket fort?"

Matt tilted his head. He didn't know what a blanket fort was.

--

As it turned out, a blanket fort was a collection of cushions, pillows, and other soft things on a floor, with a sort of tent-canopy made of blankets and stocked with them, with what were apparently soft, small, warm-colored lights that made it glow on the inside, Peter described to Matt. Master had directed them, his voice short and flat, but somehow he didn't seem to be angry with them, not if he was giving them nice things.

Matt wondered what they had done to deserve the nice things, what they were doing right. It could be a whim, or a mind-game, making them think that they were safe and yanking it away, but somehow Matt didn't think so. This Master was...kind, fundamentally kind, and Matt hoped he'd keep them for even longer.

The only rule, Master had said, regarding the blanket fort, was that they could not have sex in it. Matt wasn't sure why--the rule about the guns and the kitchen countertops made sense once he had thought about them--but rules were rules, and this wasn't a rule like 'Peter gets to only eat if you suck my cock better than my wife did' or 'you have to obey my son and his friends' or 'the gag doesn't come out, but the hollow part will be unscrewed, and you'll feed him the shakes or starve him you idiot needy whore', it was a rule Matt was glad to obey.

Matt didn't want to leave the blanket fort, and neither did Peter, and it felt so warm and cozy and protective that after their quick, cold-water showers (Master hadn't said they could use the warm water yet), they put on the long shirts Master wanted them to sleep in and cuddled together there, falling asleep in a tangle of limbs.

The only rule, Master had said, regarding the blanket fort, was that they could not have sex in it.

Brilliant!

Thanks so much! I was hoping that would be plausible.

I wonder if Frank would have prefered a sleazy shop instead of a reminder that slavery is so normalized that the 'nice' (it would have been really funny if they also branded themselves as 'ethical' or 'slave-friendly') store will provide toys for your lover and toys for your victims.
I'm guessing that Frank and Maria weren't very active abolitionists. Yeah he lives in a storage unit snd and focuses solely on things that dont often being him into contact with slaves now, but before? It is a mystery

Then from the creepiness of the store to the comfort of the blanket fort. I imagine Frank used to build forts with his kids. Using Matt's POV to lighten the tone was a good idea. Frank's mind is not a comforting place right now.
The blanket fort sounds wonderful. I can't remember if the researcher specifically said to not let them have sex in it, but if not, that was a good add-on on Frank's part. Their sex focuses on trying to please him, when their safe place should just be for them.

The image of them cuddling while wearing Frank's oversized shirts is very cute. I guess they wear those all the time? I wonder if Matt thinks 'Master' wants easy access to their genitals/likes them wearing his mark. They've probably worn weird outfits or oversized dress shirts for other masters. I remember that Matt had jeans when he was rescued, but I don't think new clothes were mentioned? (then again Ive been tripping on dental anesthetic all week. I don't remember shit.)

I see what you did there with the mention of a closed beer bottle. And another fic mentioned ass-vacuum-bottles. We're starting a trend #saynotoassvacuums

Frank and Maria didn't really have a lot of time to get too deep into more active abolition in my headcanon--they had some months of being married, and then she was pregnant and it wasn't exactly safe/they had other priorities, and then Frank got drafted or deployed, and then he got back and she got killed and he focused on his war. Like, they voted for abolitionist politicians, but didn't have time to really get involved with it.

Blanket forts are literally the greatest. It's *possible* to not find them comforting (claustrophobia or bad memories associated with them) but tbh for Peter and Matt it's just a hugely nice, cozy space where they can't be scrutinized/feel watched and can just sort of cuddle and not do things.

And yeah, Frank took some initiative with 'no sex inside it' because he a) is so fucking done with seeing them having sex all the goddamn time and b) is realizing that for them, sex is not safe or happy or life-affirming, it's a performance that creates anxiety, so by having a space where they can't have sex they can get some relief from it and start to realize that they can be safe without constantly sexually pleasing him, and c) he really doesn't want to do that much extra laundry.

It's been an oversight, but basically they've been wearing huge/oversized shirts of his plus, like, basketball shorts and leftover sweatpants to cook in, which are also really huge on them. I mean, you *can* cook without pants on, but it's a very painful and scary exercise.

(Good luck with the dental anesthetic. I said some bizarre shit on it when I had some tooth work done that I'm still hearing about months later)

I guess the mental image of an ass vaccuum is compelllingly horrifying enough to tick in people's minds.

Matt woke up momentarily confused, because he wasn't on a bed but he was in a warm, soft place that felt a lot like one.

Peter was in his arms, close to him, and felt alive. Matt was so glad. They'd been bought by the same owner a long time ago from the training center and had been owned by the same people ever since. It was comforting to have him, to know that he was alive, to be able to whisper to him or talk.

They told each other things, and kept each other from being too bored or frightened or despairing. And while it hadn't always been very good for them--owners knew that if they punished one of them it was like punishing both--Matt was still glad he at least got to be around Peter, and he knew he agreed.

Still, he wanted to be sure. Many things right now were new and unsure and unstable, like the fort. How long was Master going to let them keep it?

"Peter," he whispered. Peter startled awake and then whispered back, "Matt?"

"You...I'm glad we at least get to stick together," Matt whispered into his ear.

"Me too," Peter whispered back.

"How early is it?" Matt asked. His sense of time used to be very good, but then Mister Callione and his men lied to Matt often about what time it was and there wasn't any consistent schedule, so it was wonky still. But it would get better with time.

"Way too early to be making breakfast," Peter whispered back.

They lay there, Peter with his face moving around. Then he said, "Why don't we see what's in the bags? It's dark, so you feel them and tell me."

Matt nodded, and they crawled slowly--they couldn't stand up in it, the ceiling was low--to the bags on the floor, and very very quietly removed the things and piled them up inside the fort.

But then when Matt started to feel what they were, he realized they were sex toys and lube. A lot of sex toys and lube, and there was two of everything.

Huh. And they could do whatever they wanted with them so long as they didn't get each other injured? And Master had said that they could come whenever they wanted.

That was very, very nice. But then Peter tugged his hand and whispered, "Matt, we can't have those in here, no sex in the blanket fort, Master said," and they quickly make a neat pile outside of it.

Then they got the knife to start opening the packages, careful to not damage anything, and they didn't throw them out (what if Master wanted to return them?), and Matt started to whisper to Peter what each thing felt like.

Master had bought them vibrators and dildos and plugs and a really nice thing to put a dildo in without having to tape it to a chair or something. Matt felt anticipatory; finally, some more direct clues as to what Master wanted.

But why not just use them normally? They had lube and condoms, and even if Master thought they were too dirty and slutty to deserve real skin touching, he had gloves too.

Did Master have some sort of erectile dysfunction? But that didn't make any sense, he had had erections before, Matt knew.

...Was Master shy? Or did he want a girl-slave? Most masters didn't really care very much about slaves' sexes; a slave was a slave and they had holes anyway, so the saying went.

But one of their previous master's son's friends had thought it was disgusting for him to imagine using Matt and Peter because they weren't girl-slaves. He had said he wouldn't fuck even a male slave.

But if this Master wanted a girl-slave, he could just tell Matt and Peter to act more like girls, or give them different clothes than the big, soft shirts and big shorts to wear, and then make them bend over and never ever touch their cocks. Matt didn't understand.

Neither did Peter, as he found out after conferring. But Master clearly wanted them to at least try out some of the toys, so Matt made a mental list of which ones to start with. The rabbits seemed nice, so they were first.

"Hey," Peter whispered at one point as they had retreated back into the fort, but within seeing distance of the packaging. "Hey, Matt, there's enough light now that I can read them. They have a slave-friendly stamp on them."

Oh, that was especially nice of Master. Sometimes toys wouldn't have the stamp and it meant they were too complicated for slaves to understand or couldn't be left in slaves for a long time, and Masters who used them anyway hurt their slaves. Like those sons of Mister Callione and the open beer bottle inside Peter.

Matt resolved to make sure to cook even more than normal and thank Master however he wanted for all these nice things.

Makes my day to see updates for this story! Things are getting better, but Matt and Peter still haven't figured out that they don't have to have sex with their master to please him. Looking forward to what they try next!

Thanks so much!

And yeah, they're not at that point yet.

I love this fic. I keep imagining Matt and Peter inviting Frank into the fort and Frank accepting because, hey, this is their space and they can at least kind of be in charge, and Matt interpreting this and coming up with 'Master doesn't want sex, might be a religious thing, might be a sexuality thing, we will likely never know but it is now our sworn and wonderful duty to cuddle him lots', because Master seems so much more at ease in a no-sex arena and like, Frank being subjected to physical but nonsexual affection a lot

Thank you so much. I actually really like writing it, despite it being pretty difficult for me to figure out what's going to happen next, because it's pretty cheerful for what it is.

At some point there will be a 'Master will never have sex with us' revelation, and possibly some future timestamps to show how Matt and Peter are doing with this lifestyle of being both fugitives but very well-hidden ones.

And thanks for giving me the mental image of Frank crawling into a blanket fort with them and being cuddled all over. I'm definitely going to incorporate that.

The first few paragraphs made my heart just utterly melt. The rollercoaster of emotions is wonderful, but giving Peter and Matt a break to cuddle peacefully for a little while is nice too

Still loving the blanket fort. But since i have a gift for looking on the dark side of life: it'll be really interesting to see how they interact with it when they think it might be taken away. Do they worry about spending too much time in it? Wonder if it's enough to sleep in a way that would allow Frank to drag them instead of destroying the fort to get to them? Bolt out of it when Frank's upset or aroused (don't want Master to think they're hiding from him after all)

The little hints and mentions of Callione's son keep coming. I wonder if he died in Frank's first attack or if he's still out there.

Once again, Matt's perspective has a kind of twisted innocence to it. He's known the depths of cruelty man can sink to. Just trying to comprehend the lack of abuse is a task. Frank's a hard read anyway, what with the barrage of slavery-related outrages that he might decide to take out on them (or so they think).
I do wonder what frank's long term plans for them are (if any

Frank got up with a yawn to realize that Matt and Peter had made a veritable feast.

He looked over it all, jams and jellies and toast, bread and eggs four different ways, coffee and bacon and ham, sausages and fingerling hash.

It smelled delicious, good enough that he felt himself smiling a little bit against his will.

Matt and Peter got themselves food, too, at Peter's questioning look and his nod. By this point, it felt almost perfunctory. Soon enough, he hoped, they'd just feed themselves.

They ate in silence. But at the end of the meal, Matt and Peter knelt in smooth harmony, and Matt said, voice genuinely grateful, "Thank you so much, master, for all the things you have given us. Please let us make it up to you in any way you see fit," and Peter made an affirming noise.

Frank stared.

"It's fine," he said. "It's about damn time you two got some nice things in your lives. Just enjoy them."

Matt and Peter sat back up, and with what sounded suspiciously like a happy giggle, they went over to the pile of neatly opened sex toys and fished out the rabbits.

Frank stood up and hastily went to put away the food--there was so much, they even had leftovers.

He ignored the sounds as best he could, but then when he turned around he saw Matt and Peter on their hands and knees, twisting and fucking the rabbits in and out of them, moaning.

Frank realized this was some sort of boundary-pushing thing, and stared at the ceiling instead. "You can eat whatever you want whenever you want as long as it's not spoiled or inedible or something," he said, "And I meant what I said about orgasms," and he went to go find out if he'd gotten all of Callione's men. An informant the other day had said something that sounded suspiciously like the asshole's son had lived and was seeking revenge.

--

Peter whined in the back of his throat as he found the right setting to tease him smoothly into an orgasm. Next to him, Matt was biting his earlobe, whispering, "I want you to come first, you deserve it, Master said we can come, his heartbeat wasn't lying," and Peter hung his head and rolled his hips into it, his other hand almost numb from where he was thrusting it in and out, twisting it, pressing the little 'ears' against the part between the cock and the hole.

"Come on," Matt murmured. "Master might think we're too filthy and needy to deserve to be touched by him but we're good enough that we get orgasms, he said, now come on and come, you deserve it," and Peter bit his lip and almost sobbed at the nice words. Matt and him had had lovely masters before that mostly wanted them to fuck each other, and Matt remembered all the nice things they'd told him to say to Peter.

"Let's show him that we appreciate his presents," Matt said, and curled under Peter's hunched body to lick at his cock, finding the head and sucking and swirling his tongue.

Peter clamped his mouth shut and came, and then pulled the rabbit-thing all the way out and put it on the floor, resolving to clean it in a moment, and crawled over to where Matt was fucking himself with one now, squirming into his lap, breathing into his neck and humping his leg against Matt's cock to help him too.

"Fuck," Matt whispered into his ear. "Fuck, fuck, I wish it was Master," and Peter nodded. He wished it was too. But they were getting better, hitting the spot more often, so soon enough it would be.

"I bet his cock is big enough that it hurts a bit," Peter said, knowing Matt loved that kind of talk. "When we're good enough that we earn it, I bet he'll let us take turns sucking it to get it ready and then you might get to go first," and that would be nice. Matt deserved nice things too.

Matt breathed in sharply. Peter rubbed his arm comfortingly. "I bet Master really likes us coming," Peter said. Why else would he let them without even fucking them? "I bet he'll make us come over and over again with one of those other toys. Fuck us and make us milk ourselves until we're dry and crying and then he might let us shower and go back inside the fort, or in his bed," and either of those is the nicest thing ever to sleep in.

Matt clenched all over and came, and then Peter moved to clean up everything, wiping it off his thigh idly with a finger and tasting it.

Matt sighed and got up himself, pulling back on the shorts. They'd figured that Master liked them wearing his clothes so much, since he hadn't gotten any for them or told them to take it off, sluts don't need clothes they need cock, that they shouldn't take off more than necessary.

Then Peter had a horrible idea as they cleaned things up.

"What if he takes it away?" Peter whispered worridly to Matt.

Matt was about to say something back when there was a loud, angry noise from Master's bedroom.

No Peter! Your master is good, he won't take your things away... unless maybe you were hurting yourself with it somehow. I had to look up the rabbit to complete the mental picture and wow, Frank has a lot of self control to not at least keep watching lol. I liked the clothing bit. I'm sure Frank just hasn't really thought about the clothing situation too much, and he probably wouldn't even know where to start in shopping for them and all, but maybe he really does like seeing them in his clothes? Like on a dirty subconscious level...If he doesn't I still do at least. Its nice to see Peter and Matt happy now. It sure would be a shame if something bad happened ;) ;) that angry noise, what could it be??

My my my... It's understandable that they'd have some anxiety over being too filthy or needy for their new master, but anxiety isn't quite the word I'd use for Matt. It doesn't seem to just be Frank. He really seems fascinated by the idea of being seen as just dirty/slutty enough for master to comment on (or rub his face in it while he snaps on a latex glove), but not so much that he's seen as unusable

Even slave!Matt is a kinky motherfucker.

(He probably imagines Frank fucking Peter bareback, with lots of possessive skin-to-skin grips, and then going to Matt and tut-tutting at how filthy he is, making him take five or six enemas of progressively colder water inside before he's clean enough for even a gloved finger, and snapping on the latex to touch his nipples, making Matt beg for even just an inch of real skin, being fingered coldly and impersonally, the smooth glove instead of gun-callous, and when he finally earns being fucked Master's cock is still in a condom until he's not quite such a filthy little slut anymore, maybe if Matt begs and begs he can get permission to be fucked by a machine for hours and hours until all his dirty greedy messiness is used up and then, just then, he'll earn the right to have Master's bare dick in his mouth and it'll hurt so much to come on his warm pulsing cock after being so worn out but it'll be worth it all the way)

(warnings for rape/horror/slavery AU)

Frank stared at the video, not even realizing there was an scream of rage coming from his mouth.

It was Matt for sure, and Peter, and clearly being filmed by some teenage sociopaths.

"Okay, so," the first one said, showing his face to the camera, "We're filming this, because we gotta record it for posterity. Now see here, this dumb slut--"

And he kicked Peter in the side, "Ended up getting this fucking Bud bottle stuck up his ass, and we were just gonna use up its mouth and chuck it to the dogs, but Dad said that was wasteful, and then this dumb slut--"

And the camera panned over to Matt, naked and bruised and terrified, "Volunteered to make a fucking hole in the bottle to get it out! So we're gonna let 'im try, and if he doesn't get it right, we'll get another slut for us all."

The camera was low-quality, but Frank memorized the faces of all the people. He'd already killed a good quarter of them, but the cameraman could be Callione's son.

Frank watched, feeling a low, building fury as he saw Matt fumble desperately, hands almost shaking, saying something like sorry, sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry, if he was reading Matt's lips correctly.

Eventually, with much jeering and screams of fuck that slut up!, he eventually managed to get a tiny hole in the glass and then he extracted it, wincing at Peter's shaking body and muffled sobs.

Frank stared, and rearranged his list as Callione's son swiveled the camera back around to him, grinning and saying, "See, now that was way more fun than any normal snuff video!"

Then he stood up to go get intel from Matt and Peter, see if they knew anything useful about him.

(warnings for rape/horror/slavery AU)

Matt and Peter made sure to kneel silently on the floor and be silent.

Ever since Master had made that angry noise, they had gotten down and waited.

Matt wanted to go hide in the fort again with Peter, where it was soft and warm and safe, but he knew better. They both did. Trying to hide from angry masters just made them angrier, and made the punishments worse.

And even though Master had said he wouldn't hit them, that didn't mean it would always be the truth, or that he wouldn't hurt them in a different way. What if he ordered Matt to not talk to Peter, or didn't let them eat? Lots of masters had punished either of them that way, making Peter hit Matt for them, or forcing Matt to eat chocolate cake right in front of Peter when Peter hadn't been allowed to eat for a week.

So they waited.

Finally, Master came out, and said, "Hey, kids--shit, uh, come and sit down? That looks...cold."

Matt and Peter rose and went to go sit down on the chairs obediently, nervously.

Master pulled out something that sounded like paper and pen.

"Now," he said calmly, "I need to know everything you know about Callione's son."

Matt blinked and tilted his head, confused.

Peter started them off. "His cock is about five inches," he said, anxious.

Matt chimed in too, trying to rescue him. "He's not...nice..." he said, trying to explain. "I know we're not supposed to say things like that about free people--"

"It's fine. Keep going."

"Yes, Master," said, grateful. "He was--he liked hurting slaves. A lot. Not for punishment, just for fun."

Peter squirmed a little, remembering, probably, the beer bottle. Or the pear. Or any of the other things.

Matt reached a hand out and then Peter moved to hold it tight. "And he--" Matt swallowed. "He liked guns, and knives, and the way Peter screams when he's really afraid--"

Peter whimpered. Matt shut up.

Master cleared his throat. "Any descriptions of him you can give me? Physical details?"

Peter spoke up, voice quavering, "He had blonde hair, about down to his chin, and dark blue eyes, and he was maybe, um, as tall as Matt is now?"

"Where does he live?"

Matt and Peter both paused. "With Mast--Mister Callione," Matt said.

Then something horrible occurred to him.

Why was Master using the present tense? Wasn't Master Callione's son dead, too, now?

Re: FILL, Pt 12b/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-01-20 17:03 (UTC) - Expand

Re: FILL, Pt 12b/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-01-26 15:24 (UTC) - Expand

FILL, Pt 13/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-01-26 16:24 (UTC) - Expand

Re: FILL, Pt 13/?

(Anonymous) - 2016-02-03 18:20 (UTC) - Expand

I gotta admit, halfway through having my heart broken for the umpteenth time, I did a quick search to see what the actors' legs look like. Conclusion: With an improvised Tshirt dress, some medical tape, and two hours with a razor, Matt would make an okay pantomime girl (from the back at least)
You know, before the inevitable meltdown of 'why wont you fuck us what are we doing wrong' and the shock when they realize he really isnt going to hurt them and such

(Theyre very nice legs)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daredevil Prompt Post #8

FILL, Pt 8/?

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FILL, Pt 9/?

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FILL, Pt 10/?

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