Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story

Kt: Hope this update came fast enough, although I think you won't like this ending either :-)

Warnings: mentioning of NCS (forced sex under the influence of drugs - date rape I suppose without the "date"), nothing graphic or explicit, thoughts of suicide,

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A Small Piece of Heaven - Part 10

When Treize called the house to let Milliardo know that his meeting was running late, nobody picked up on the other end. The duke gazed at his watch as he closed his cell phone. It was almost thirty minutes after six.

Perhaps he is in the shower, Treize thought.

He tried again when the meeting was over, but once again the answer machine turned on after the fourth ring. Slightly annoyed, the duke dialed to number of Martin's pager. The stable master called him back only a few minutes later.

"You wouldn't happen to know if Milliardo is still at the stables, would you." Treize asked.

"He was here earlier," Martin replied. "But he left more than an hour ago. I don't think he came back, but I can check if you wish."

"Would you? And if you see him, tell him to get home. I'll meet him there in about half an hour."

"Yes, your Excellency."

"Thank you." Treize turned off the phone and walked to the parking lot where his limousine was waiting.

*****

Phillips had cuffed Milliardo's hands together on his back and prodded him into the back of his patrol car.
The lieutenant watched the young man in the back mirror.

"Do you know that you cost me not only my job but also my rank and my pension with what you did?" he asked.

"I don't think that happened because of what I did, Sir" Milliardo replied quietly. "But rather because of what you did."

Phillips snorted. "Listen to you; you have developed quite an attitude, haven't you? You would never have dared to talk like that to me, or at anybody else for that matter, when you were still under my control. But then again, a little attitude can be amusing. Just don't get too smart with me, Milliardo. Do you understand me?"

The blond slave swallowed convulsively. He knew only too well, how unpredictable Phillips could be. It was not wise to infuriate the man.

A few minutes later the lieutenant stopped in front of a small, bungalow style building. Phillips climbed out of the car, walked around and opened the door for the blond. "Get out!" he ordered.

When the blond hesitated, Phillips' eyes narrowed in irritation, as he pulled out his stun gun. "Don't make me drag you out of that car," he growled.

Milliardo sighed in resignation. He knew that he couldn't win this. He was defenseless with his hands still cuffed behind his back. The lieutenant was armed and, as Milliardo knew from experience, not afraid to use his weapons. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he finally climbed out of the patrol car.

"Smart kid," Phillips grinned sarcastically "Now if you only would be smart enough mot to make this any harder on yourself than it has to be." He prodded his captive into the bungalow and gestured to a couch in the living room. "Sit down!"

Milliardo fought against a raising feeling of panic as he complied.

The lieutenant started to undress himself. He put his weapons-belt onto the table where he could easily reach it. His uniform jacket landed somewhere on the floor between the table and a chair.

"I would untie your hands. But I can see it in your eyes that you have no intention of playing along."

"Whatever you are planning, you might want to reconsider, Sir," Milliardo suggested quietly. "This time your job might be the least you have to worry about."

Phillips eyebrows rose in fake surprise. "Was that supposed to be a threat?"

"Just a warning, Sir. My master is extremely jealous and he... "

The lieutenant snorted in amusement. "You think he is going to save you again, aren't you? Not this time, my friend. And let me tell you something, Milliardo…" He leaned forward and brought his mouth close to the young man's ear and whispered. "After we are finished here, I seriously doubt that he would want anything more to do with you."

Milliardo shuddered, as he felt the man's hot breath against his neck. Philips tongue dipped into his ear, teasingly. Milliardo closed his eyes. I'm not going to let him do this to me again. I don't have to allow it.

When Phillips tried to capture his mouth in a kiss the blond jerked away. He thrashed, pulled up his knees and kicked the man away.

The lieutenant growled in a mixture of fury and surprise. As Milliardo pushed himself up from the couch Phillips lurched for his gun on the table. He pressed the nozzle against the blond's throat and fired.
The pain was blinding, and Milliardo was almost thankful when he passed out.

*****

When the duke arrived at home, and found that his slave was not there, he was more than a little annoyed. He couldn't believe that Milliardo blew him off like this, especially since he knew that they had plans for the evening.
Treize gazed at the clock. It was ten minutes after seven. He walked over to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a drink before he settled down on the couch and waited.
He had made reservations at the Altwiener Hof, one of Vienna's oldest and most renowned restaurants, for 8:30. They still could get there comfortably, if Milliardo would come home any time soon.
The duke sipped his cognac wand watched the clock. With every passing minute his irritation grew. By the time he had finished the glass he had finally enough. What the hell am I doing, he told himself. I'm sitting here waiting for him to get home, and let him ruin my evening? I don't think so. I'll deal with him when I get back.

Treize pulled out his phone and called for his Limousine.

*****

Milliardo wasn't sure how much time had passed when he came to. He found himself lying on the couch again. His hands were still cuffed, and now his feet were tied together as well.

"You don't ever learn, do you Milliardo?" the lieutenant said almost softly, as he knelt down next to the couch.

He reached for a small bottle that was sitting on the tale and put it against the young slave's lips. "Drink," he demanded.
Milliardo pressed his lips together and turned his head away.

Phillips glared at him and punched him into the stomach. Milliardo groaned and dabbled over in pain. The lieutenant grabbed a handful of pale blond hair and pulled the young man's head back. He forced the bottle between Milliardo's lips and poured some kind of odd tasting liquid into his mouth. Milliardo coughed and spit.

"Stop fighting," Phillips growled as he covered the blond's nose with his hand.

Unable to breathe, the young man had no choice but to swallow the next dose. The lieutenant finally pulled the bottle away and set it aside. Milliardo rolled onto his side, grasping for air.

Phillips allowed him to catch his breath before he pushed the young man onto his back again and straddled his legs. The lieutenant's hastily unbuttoned Milliardo's white shirt, ripping off a couple of buttons in the progress. His hands moved over the young man's abdomen, lingering a few moments at the hips before they slipped beneath the waistband of Milliardo's pants. As Phillips groped the blond's most intimate parts he leaned forward and whispered into the slave's ear: "How does this feel? You like this don't you? I know you do. I can feel it."

Milliardo closed his eyes and fought back tears of helplessness and humiliation, as he felt his body respond to the older man's touches. "What…what was in that bottle?" he asked hoarsely.

"I'm not quite sure. A guy who mixed it up for me called it his little love potion. He didn't tell me exactly what's in it, but I know that will help you to relax and loose those inhibitions of yours." Phillips explained almost softly, as he watched the blond intensively. "Don't fight it, it won't help, Milliardo…just relax. You and I are going to have a wonderful time together."

***

Milliardo had only little recollection of the things that happened next. He wasn't sure, but he assumed that was a result of the drug cocktail he had been given. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he woke up in the lieutenant's bed, naked. The young man still hadn't fully regained his senses when Phillips walked into the room.

"Get dressed," he ordered, as he tossed the young man's clothes onto the bed.

Milliardo rose wordlessly. The moment he stood up he was hit by a wave of dizziness and nausea. The blond groaned and pressed his teeth together as reached for the bed to steady himself.

Phillips glared at him suspiciously. "You'd better not throw up on here," he warned, and gestured across the room toward a door. "The bathroom is over there."

Milliardo somehow made it to the toilet before his stomach rebelled again. He dropped down next to the porcelain basin and vomited. When he was finished the young man was shaking. He took a few deep breaths before he dragged himself to his feet and to the sink. After he had rinsed out his mouth and splashed some cold water into his face he felt slightly better.

"Hurry up," Phillips yelled at him from the bedroom. "I've got to get back to the office before my shift ends. But there is something I want to show you before we leave."

Milliardo walked back to the bedroom and got dressed. He followed Phillips into the living room and watched as the man turned on his TV and popped a video disk into the player. He frowned, and for a moment he wondered what the lieutenant was going to show him, but the moment the film started the young man paled.

"Don't you like it? It's a nice little memento, isn't it? It will give me something to always remember this afternoon by," Phillips mocked. "Milliardo you are not only wonderful between the sheets but you also look incredible on film. I'm surprised nobody has taken advantage of that yet."

Once again the blond felt sick to his stomach, but this time for a different reason. The film showed him and Phillips engage in varies stages of foreplay and sex, and it was obvious that both men were enjoying themselves very much. Milliardo had never felt so disgusted or humiliated in his life. Not even back at the S.A.U. station when he had been forced to do things he'd rather not think about. He had never willingly submitted to the officers, had always been able to hang on to at least a little piece of dignity and pride. But Phillips had managed to take even that away from him, by having him participate in his own rape.

Oh my god, he is right. Treize is going to hate me if he finds out what I have done. And I can't even blame him.

*****

Treize turned off his phone. Once again he had called the house, and once again nobody had picked up. Now his agitation was slowly given way to uttermost concern. The duke had never known Milliardo to be unreliable, it just wasn't like him. There had been times when he had been late after going to a movie or a drive into town, but never by nearly two hours.

Treize pushed the button that lowered the glass divider between the driver seat and the back of the limousine.
"Turn around," he ordered.

"Sir?" the driver asked surprised.

"You heard right. Turn around and take me back home."

"As you wish."

*****

Phillips had dropped Milliardo of near the entrance to the equestrian center. The young slave felt better, but he was still somewhat dizzy and nauseated. When he finally made it back to the house that Treize had rented, he found it empty. Milliardo was almost relieved that the duke wasn't home. That gave him somewhat of a grace period before he had to face his master.

Right now, all he wanted was to take a shower, a long and hot shower. Although, he wasn't sure if there was enough water and soap on this planet, to wash away his feeling of filthiness. He made it about half way up the stairs before another wave of nausea hit him. He tock deep breaths and waited for the dizziness to dissipate before he continued. Once in the bathroom he retched again.
As he leaned against the sink with shaking arms, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like hell, but it didn't even come close to the way he felt.
Suddenly his eyes caught a small medication bottle on the counter; his master's prescription painkillers. He knew that Treize had been wounded during the war, and occasionally those old injuries flared up.

The bottle was nearly full. As far as Milliardo knew that should be more than enough to send him into a peaceful sleep from which he would never wake up.

The young man hesitated for only a few moments, before he slowly reached out and his hand closed firmly around the small bottle.