Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A Cat's Life ❯ The Plan/The Playroom ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

AN:Woohoo! Look, this chapter is two chapters, because I don't like cliffhangers too much, and get too excited to leave cliffhangers. Eventually I'll get over that. It is separated into, as you can see, The Plan and The Playroom- which is about as simple as I can make it. I thoroughly enjoyed this chapter and I hope you do to. :D

REVIEW IF YOU LIKE... or if you don't.. I just want to know someone's reading, for real, yo'.

Warnings: Okay, this chapter may be pretty scary for the squeamish. I kind of held back for length and for the weak-hearted. Don't like, don't read. No seriously.


The Plan/The Playroom

Quatre awoke with Duo on the comfortable larger-than-king-sized bed. The demon's limbs wrapped obtrusively around his frame, and he smelled of fresh soil and sweat. His hair was a mess, tangled and sticking up all over the place.

Everyone had slept in the same room, though last night Duo said they all had separate rooms. Quatre found out that his 'companion' was a talkative one, wanting to elucidate in detail the day-to-day life of being a slave. He explained the rough times they have had since the three had escaped two weeks earlier, and that the only reason the master believed he could find them was because of Relena, who Milliardo wouldn't leave alone. Then he described the different jobs in the house and missions outside.

"Always, always do as the master says. Main man likes a good fight, but you'll know an order when you hear it. He doesn't care how, as long as you do it," Duo had advised. "Unless the order contains how you do it, of course."

Quatre wasn't responsible for anything for a month, so such things as cleaning or being furniture or even the most simple orders could be broken and put on another's shoulders. The only thing he had to be aware of was that the Duke would want sex. Lots of sex. Unless he was angry, and then it would be more rape than sex.

Then he figured out Treize wasn't rich. The million ducs came from selling off valuable merchandise in the museum. Among the ring of pimps, he was at the bottom, a newbie, an amateur. Even his extensive library and museum wasn't even close to matching theirs. Only an eighth of the whole castle was even his and it took millions of ducs just to keep it in good condition. The rumor of his wealth was just a generalization the public took for granted.

Then it was time for the plan to take effect.

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At first, Treize was worried about the dangerous city and Quatre's familiarity with it. He did not know that Quatre had gone numerous times into the city to buy liquor for his father. Usually it was the oldest's job, but after Iria died and the last girls were sold, Quatre got the job for about two months. Particularly the part of city that he frequented were the old dangerous parts of the city, where the really expensive, really good alcohol was available. The blonde knew how good it was, taking a swig of something extra now and again.

Then came the master's next question: how did he defend himself.

On the ride to the city, where Relena was to be dropped off at the outskirts of the city and make her way through the alleyways looking for her brother, and Quatre would await her at the city, he told Treize all about his psychic ability. His father had always wanted to know if he had any psychic powers, like all twenty-nine of his older sisters, and, of course, after so long of insistent scares and calls, Quatre learned to never share the information of his empathy. At first, he didn't know what it was called, knowing when his dad was angry or calm, or his sisters envious or tired, but when he figured it out several psycology and psychic books later, he knew he couldn't tell his father. When Amelia was find out to be a pyrokinetic, Mr. Winner stabbed her through her palms, so that it will be painful to ever make fire flow from them.

Relena was dropped off, and Quatre made sure to tweak her emotions, so that she was a bit more frightened than she truly was.

He didn't tell Treize that he could control emotions. He knew that would be the breaking point. Anyway, he could only do it three or four times a day, usually when the feelings are mild. It took everything to calm the drunken stupor of his father's anger.

And then he was in the city, coming out the car that was Treize's rental- a carriage would have stood out in the city, thought there were more out there.

Whistles, catcalls, and wandering hands followed him. He wore nothing but a pair of black denim short shorts, a tiny black vest riding his upper torso, nad gloves and boots with stockings coming up to his knees. Treize was suddenly eager to pierce him, then adding shiny ebony rings, but said that would wait for later.

The master was in a good mood all morning. He kissed all the pets he met, petted the girls and made the males uncomfortable by staring at them. He believed the plan would work.

"And it has to work, or we're screwed. And not in that fun way, either." Duo had good advice.

Vendors of either side shouted their wares, especially those displaying clothes. Quatre guessed they saw someone with taste in him. Plenty beverage makers and bartenders, upon recognizing Quatre, would woo him over and have him taste their best drinks.

"Heartthrob, dude," a petite young female bartender cried. "Isn't it delicious, or should we cut back on the fruit?"

"I think it's perfect with more Lay, not less fruit." Lay was one of the most popular energy drinks, sold out by the end of the day. So popular was it that it was in a lot of new drinks. "I gotta go."

"You're not going to buy anything?"

"Not today."

Then a tall man, almost as tall as Treize, gently landed his finished Heartthrob on the wood. "You should cut back on the fruit in Heartthrob."

Quatre looked up, unable to believe his luck. He's only seen him twice, once in a picture Treize showed him in the car, and the other time he was fighting. But time had done him well.

Milliardo Peacecraft, where Relena was feminine, he was even more feminine- in a masculine way. It was indescribable. Not as if he was androgynous, just soft, and hard, at the same time, like a Native American Nadleeh. His hair had grown down to his knees, and his bangs over his eyes, which irritated him, Quatre felt. He wore dress pants of beige and a white, and a button-down black T-shirt and black boots. At his side was his white sword in his sheathe.

"I'll take both your opinions in consideration," the bartender said, winking at Quatre. She took both glasses and went to the back.

There was a plan if Quatre was to meet any of the three before they found Relena.

As they were walking out, he said clearly, "You're Treize's runaway."

Anger flared like fire inside Milliardo, who turned to him with a manacing glare. It wasn't so bad or in need of controlling unless he turned violent, which Quatre didn't feel to be a problem. Yet.

"Who are you?"

"One of Theodore's servants," came Quatre's practiced answer. Baron Theodore liked his servants dressed as skimpy as possible- Dekim didn't, so he had to be sure he didn't say that, or that would give away his true slave status.

"That man could never keep a secret," Milliardo muttered, walking off.

Quatre wasn't sure which man he was talking about, Theodore or Treize, but he continued to follow Milliardo, per orders, even if it was the opposite direction of Relena. Milliardo looked back at him.

The anger erupted again, mixed with confusion and suspicion. "Why in the hell are you following me?"

"Just wanted to tell you that your sister's gone," Quatre said tactfully, and the blonde predictably whirled around, hair flying.

"What do you mean? Treize killed her?" And his hand automatically went to his hilt, as if ready for a fight, which he probably was, given the new level of anger.

"No, no, nothing like that." Quatre said calmly. "But she was dropped off here. If she finds you and brings you back she'll be fine. Of course, if she doesn't find you...."

In a split second, Milliardo was in the sky, scouting the surrounding area. He was not aided by wings, so he was soaring by telekinesis, which Treize said he had. He flew back down to the ground, and upon hitting the cement sidewalk, he began running, worry etched into his features and his mind. He was sprinting towards the area Relena should have been walking through.

"Are you still following me?" Milliardo yelled, whipping out his cellphone and calling someone on speed dial. Without waiting for Quatre's answer, he began talking, "Yes, it's her. It is probably a trap, but she's unconcious, I can't just leave her there. You're coming? No, no- you don't have to do that. No! Gods, Noin, I'm serious." He stopped, a bemused expression on his face.

"You want to go back? Look, I know it's a hard life- I don't want to go back! Gods! I've been his puppet for a years! Why does he still want me?! Tell Wufei that, yes, we are still having this conversation. You both want to go back? Do you know what he'll do to us?" Anxiety pressed into every corner of his mind. He sat on his hunches, running his left hand over and over his face. Now he was nervous. "I can't go back. He'll kill me."

Milliardo listened for a minute, his face clouding with dread at each passing minute. Someone, or two persons, on the other side yelled at him. Quatre could feel quite clearly that the blonde did not like what they were saying.

Then he felt something else. Duke Kushrenada was nearby, and from his joyful emotions, he could see them just as clearly as Quatre could feel him.

"I know, I know. Dumb," Milliardo spoke resignedly. "But after the first couple days, we were too scared to go back. I know... We can't keep running forever." He listened. "Totally, I would rather be Treize's than any of the others, even if he is a poor jackass. Can you get around Dekim's goons down here to Bank Street? I think by now someone's bothering my sister. Alright, bye."

"Are you going to get your sister?" Quatre asked, hopeful that he wouldn't have to trick anyone, and ready to tell the whole truth now, though the runaway already knew most of it.

Milliardo was running again, and Quatre followed him. "Yes. And then we're going back to Treize, who's going to beat us into next week- you just don't know. The first month you're with Treize, and he's pretty nice to you and treats you mostly like glass- except when he's taking you for the first time. After that month, you'd better be ready for almost anything. The worst he's ever done was piss on my chest. Good Gods, I hope he doesn't get any worse than that."

"Well, I just wanted to tell you..." Quatre trailed off as they turned on Bank street. "I'm not Theodore's servant-"

"Didn't think so. You hadn't called him Lord. What are you, Dekim's?"

"No, I'm Treize's new slave. Quatre Winner." A weight lifted off his shoulders.

"The last one, aren't you," Milliardo stated. "I bet you think Treize's just fine."

Quatre nodded, stopping as he took in the scene before him. Treize held Relena in the crook of his arm. Around him were the dismembered bodies of demons hoping to get a piece of her. She was fine, as Milliardo was pleased to see, and Treize was furious, snarling, which made Milliardo's hand twitch to his sword. Fear was battling his common sense, for it would be nuts to attack.

"Give me that. You know what will happen if you fight," Treize said, extremely gentle, holding out his hand to the sword. Milliardo slowly put his weapon in the open palm, snapping back his hand, and made Treize smile at his fear. Milliardo was indubitably nervous at the moment, unable to keep his hands still or his eyes on anyone.

"I'll wait here for Noin and Wufei. Get in the carriage," Treize ordered. He set Relena down, who ran to her brother and gave him a firm squeeze.

Then, shockingly, Relena punched him in the face. After she was done, her fist a burning red, she politely showed them to the carriage.

(Intermission)

After the carriage ride with thick enough tension one could cut it with a knife, they arrived to the eighth part of the castle. Everyone else waited in lobby, all of them on their knees, quiet, heads bowed. Sally rose hers and gave Wufei a discomforting glare which rivaled Relena's punch to her brother's face. Treize snapped his fingers once and they all stood. The master started walking, towards the kitchen, but since it wasn't time to eat, they were obviously going to the Playroom.

The Playroom was actually a gym of sorts. Magnificent structures and instruments set themselves against one another, and some other machines were separate entirely, a bit grotesque to look at, and nauseous to think of someone strapped to it. The room gave Quatre chills; the clean latex and waxed floors were gilded, and something more lay beneath.

Those who weren't part of the punishment stood against the wall. Quatre stood in between Duo and Trowa, and both were holding his hands because he asked them to. The red-tinted walls and deep black furniture frightened him. He was probably soaking in the others' fear as well.

Noin, Wufei, and Milliardo kneeled before Treize, naked, the Duke in a large leather chair, languidly smoking a cigar, wearing only his boots and a pair of his usual tight leather. He uncrossed and recrossed his legs, and the only eerie sound in the whole room was the brushing of the material. Quatre could feel his heartbeat in their joined hands- Tha-Thump. Tha-Thump.

Treize finished his cigar; the end was still burning red. To put it out, he neared Milliardo, who backed away quickly, then thought better of it. He stood rigid and the flaming end pressed to his skin-T-sssss, only whimpering slightly, lips a mere quiver of a scream.

"Up." They stood up, not looking the master in the eye, who noticed this with irritation. "Look at me." Heads twitching, they looked at him, a feat Quatre commended, for even he couldn't look without shuddering at the absolute fury boiling beneath the cornflower blue irises. Or the controlled anger rolling in powerful biceps and structured torso. If he looked, he might break.

"The horses. I will beat each of you unconcious on the horses." Then he changed his mind, "No, I want Milliardo on the table. Just a table."

At first, Quatre thought he meant real horses, and believed that would be something odd indeed. But then he say Heero and Duo pulling these saddled benches behind the three. Each of the benches had four manacles connected to them, and Wufei and Noin obediently strapped themselves in, face-down, while Heero and Duo adjusted the entrapments. They wrapped blindfolds around their heads- Quatre thought this was the absolute worst, not being able to see.

Milliardo received a blindfold as well, and climbed onto a nearby table. He sat Indian-style, face a sickly reddish-green.

"Why don't they just run away?" Quatre whispered. "It seems to be a frightening ordeal."

"What's going to be scary is when they get caught." Duo let go of his hand and wrung it. "They're too scared to run."

The walls were covered in weapons, some of the shaper ones blessedly clean, but the small floggers and whips were dark with dried blood. Quatre noticed long striped scars on Milliardo's otherwise unmarred back. This may have been Peacecraft's first time running away but it surely was not the first time he's been in the Playroom.

Treize took a long, thick piece of leather- Noin burst into tears, hiccupping in surprise at her own reaction- and that was all. The ends of the piece of leather was nubbed, so one couldn't call it a stick or whip or a ruler or a belt of some type. It was a primitive object to beat someone with.

And, Good Gods, did he beat them.

The way they screamed, the sounds of their bones being broken, the complete and utter anger Treize unleashed, all of it brought tears to Quatre's eyes. Duo took to staring at the ground with his eyes firmly closed. Trowa shot nervous glances at him and squeezed his hand tenderly. Quatre was beginning to like the cat-demon so much already that even as they watched the heinous punishment, the blond yearned to do something, anything with him that was more than holding hands.

"I bet you'll think twice before running away again!"

After roaring this, Treize threw the terrible stick away, or whatever the hell it was, and climbed on the table on top of Milliardo, who was on his stomach. Treize had ordered him throughout the ordeal to turn over or turn ninety degrees. Whereas only Noin and Wufei were beaten horribly on their backs- Noin had passed out- Milliardo's who body was inflicted with multiple blows. He was semiconscious enough to mumble, "Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Treize laughed brokenly, pulling Milliardo's bruised hips up and clutching them to make him scream, and he entered, tearing through muscle that hadn't been touched for two weeks. Milliardo screamed again, and while he cried, tears were streaming with the blood from his mouth, Treize bent down to whisper in his ear.

"I'll break you- or have I broken you, yet?"

Unbelievablely, Milliardo croaked, "Fuck you...Sadistic bastard."

Quatre suddenly began to use his powers on Treize, who had flipped Milliardo and was choking him to death. Now, the other slaves intervened, not moving yet, but Sally was nearly off the wall with a tranquilizer in her hand. Une was actually by Treize's side, holding softly to his biceps. Quatre, exhausted beyond measure, finally twisted the emotions of his master just enough to make him stop choking Milliardo, who was immensely disappointed, much to Quatre's surprise.

The blonde, Quatre felt, had wanted to die.

Still, Treize raped Milliardo with all his might; the blonde screamed hysterically, choking on his own blood. His pupils were different sizes, rolling to the top of his head. Only until he came hard did Treize finally stop, then he picked up the stick, slapped Noin awake, and began beating them again.

Relena ran to him and grabbed his arm. Quatre, and the others, were relieved she went first.

"Please, it's enough!" she cried. "Please, master, if you're still angry, take it out on me."

Treize dropped his stick, covered in more blood anyone cared to think about, and was dripping in sweat. Smoothing back his ginger-red hair with a smile, he said, "Oh, I was just waiting for one of you to tell me to stop. It's hard to put limits on myself." He licked his fangs, smiling in what seemed to be happiness.

To Sally and the rest he said, "Get these kids cleaned up and do whatever. I'm finished," and to Une, "You and I are going to the market, the mall, and wherever else, get some Lay, and we're going to have a party." He looked at the rest of them again, then at the three battered recommissioned slaves.

"I'm so glad you're back," he said.

Treize, Quatre concluded, was in control, but wasn't all there.