Chapter 5
Damien lounged back on his couch as he spoke into his phone. “So, what have you learned?” he asked.
The voice on the other end answered: “We couldn’t get his military records, of course. But I was able to get a list of the men who served with him, and when I checked those out I discovered one who had been discharged from the military and is now in a VA rehab center because of an addiction to painkillers. He needed cash desperately, so I had no problems getting him to talk to me.”
“Oh, good,” Damien said. “What did he tell you?”
“He said that they were stationed in Afghanistan back in 2009, in a dangerous area. When their unit was out on patrol one day, they were ambushed and attacked by the Taliban. They lost several men, and Michael Hewes was wounded and taken prisoner by their attackers.”
“Taken prisoner?” Damien repeated. “For how long?”
“He said for almost three months before they got him back in a prisoner exchange. He was in a military hospital, being treated for the injuries that caused him to end up being addicted to painkillers, when Mr. Hewes was brought to the same facility to be treated for malnutrition and wounds he’d sustained during his captivity. He said he looked ghastly. Also, he was withdrawn and morose, seldom speaking anymore even though he’d apparently been a rather outgoing man before he was taken prisoner. He says that Michael was discharged from the hospital before he was, as his injuries were extensive. And that he went home rather than rejoining his unit again. He thinks that Michael was discharged because the psychiatrists at the military hospital decided that he was unfit for duty anymore. But he didn’t know anything else, like why he was perceived as unfit for duty or what had happened to him while he was being held as a prisoner by the Taliban.”
“I see,” Damien replied thoughtfully. “That’s good enough anyway, thanks. I’ll make sure that you get a hefty bonus for your good work.”
“Thank you, Mr. Burkley. If you ever have need of the services of a private investigator again, I hope that you’ll think of us first.”
“I will, you can count on that. Goodbye,” Damien hung up the phone, setting the handset in its cradle. He pursed his mouth thoughtfully as he considered all that the private investigator that he’d hired had told him about Michael’s past. Most of it hadn’t seemed very useful, but that last bit…his mind turned over as he thought furiously, deciding what to do with this information.
Whatever had happened to Michael, clearly it had affected his sex life. He never took any of the guests up on their offers, no matter how good-looking or hot they were. Why? Was he impotent? Or was it something…worse? What if they’d done something horrible like cut off his equipment? No, that didn’t seem right. Didn’t you have to wear one of those colostomy bags to pee into if you didn’t have a dick anymore? And he’d checked out Michael’s package often enough that he should have spotted an extra bulge if he had something like that. Of course, they might have just cut off his balls…but that didn’t seem right either. His voice wasn’t high, and he didn’t display any of the other signs of a man who wasn’t producing testosterone anymore, either. So if he was unable to get it up, it was probably for a psychological reason rather than a physical one. Had they tortured him? But would torture affect his sex drive? Something wasn’t right here, he could feel it.
Damien frowned to himself. His curiosity over the mysterious Michael wasn’t only deepening as he learned more about his handyman’s past. He wanted to know what made the man tick. And why he seemed to be a shadow of the person that Damien suspected that he’d been before he’d been taken captive by the Taliban. Could that man, the person he’d once been, be brought back to life? He intended to find out if he could.
With that in mind, Damien began to stalk Michael. He watched the handyman whenever he could, out of the corner of his eye if nothing else. He didn’t confront Michael with what he’d learned - that was sure to make the man angry, and he WAS a trained soldier. Damien wasn’t that stupid. He valued his own pretty hide far too much to endanger it, even for a sexy man. But he could and did watch his handyman closely, observing his every action and every one of the few words that he said. He was going to become an expert on Michael Hewes.
Michael became aware of Damien’s stalking, of course. How could he not? While he was initially wary about it, after awhile he just shrugged it off as not being very important. If Damien wanted to trail around after him while he was at work, it was the man’s prerogative. It wasn’t causing any harm, and it was keeping Damien out of trouble. It rather amused him after awhile, that Damien seemed so intent on spying on him. It wasn’t as though he ever did anything interesting. He did his work and went home, that was it.
It became a stand-off between them that might never have ended, had not the sharp-eyed Damien seen something extremely telling one day toward the end of summer. A couple arrived at the B&B for a weekend stay. Damien was behind the counter when they arrived, and his eyes widened a little when a man walked in with another man in tow…literally! He had a leash in one hand, attached to a leather collar around the second man’s neck. He walked up to the registration desk and smiled at Damien. "Hi, “ he said. “We’d like to check in.”
The second man kept his eyes down on the floor and said nothing. Damien lifted his eyebrows a little. The first man’s smile widened. “Carl is my slave,” he told Damien calmly. “He’s not allowed to speak unless I give him permission. Isn’t that right, Carl?”
“Yes, Sir,” the second man said in a soft voice.
“Ah. I’ve heard of Master/Slave relationships, but I’ll admit that I’ve never seen one before in person,” Damien said as he pulled up the registration form on his computer. “Anyway, welcome to the Sweet Springs Bed and Breakfast. I take it you want a single room?”
The first man chuckled. “That’s right. A single bed, too. Carl will be sleeping on the floor.”
Damien nodded in acceptance of that. “I admit to being kind of curious about that kind of lifestyle,” he commented idly as he began to type.
“You don’t strike me as the dom/sub sort,” the man holding the leash replied.
Damien grinned. “No, not really. If I must be honest, though, I kind of like a little pain mixed in with my pleasure sometimes,” he said. “Name?”
The first man gave his name, address, and credit card info. It was only after he was done that he said: “Carl likes pain, too. Don’t you, baby?”
“Yes, Sir,” Carl replied, still not looking up.
The man, who had identified himself as Sean Verger, grinned evilly. He reached out and pinched one of his slave’s nipples with his fingertips, twisting it lightly. Carl whined, a sound that sounded more eager than pain-filled. Damien squirmed a bit, as his body reacted to the sight of the slave’s pleasure at the pain he was feeling. “Come along, Carl,” Sean Verger remarked, and dragged his slave away toward the stairs by his nipple. The slave went along tamely, his head still bowed. Damien shook his head, starting to turn away.
It was then that he saw something that made him come to a halt. Michael was standing in the doorway leading to the dining room, staring after the couple. His face was its usual mask, unreadable. But Damien’s sharp eyes registered something extremely telling - something that made his breathing pick up and his heart begin to beat faster. One part of Michael’s body was communicating very strongly…his dick. There was a visibly bulge at his crotch, something that Damien had never seen before. Michael had a hard-on?! A hard-on from watching a Master hurt his slave?
A light came on in his brain. That was it! The missing piece of the Michael puzzle. The handyman was into pain. Damien knew that some people couldn’t get excited without it - apparently Michael was one of those people. He felt excitement flash through him, and he had to bend down to hide his triumphant grin. He had Michael’s number now. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together in his fertile brain, answering all of the questions he’d had about Michael.
He didn’t do anything about his revelation at first. He calmly went about his normal routine, running the B&B and greeting his many guests with his usual charm and suavity. Damien was actually very good at the customer service side of his job; he loved interacting with his ‘own kind’, especially the many hunky guys who came to the B&B to stay. Finally, at about six o’clock, when Michael was getting ready to leave work, Damien strolled up to him and waved a casual hand at him. “Come with me, Michael. I want to talk to you,” he said.
The handyman hesitated, but finally he walked after Damien toward the small manager’s office on the ground floor. Damien led the way inside, then closed and locked the door behind him. Michael had turned and was staring at him warily. Damien smiled slightly, wickedly. “Michael,” he purred.
“What?” the handyman asked, his whole body tense. Damien was up to something.
Damien sashayed around his desk and leaned his hip on it. “I know about you,” he remarked, idly running a finger along his own plump bottom lip.
“What do you mean?” Michael’s wariness had deepened; what was it that Damien thought he knew?
Damien licked at his lower lip a little. “What turns your crank,” he explained. “And I think I understand WHY, too.”
Michael was completely puzzled. “I don’t understand,” he said.
Damien laughed. “You were in the Army,” he began lightly. “In Afghanistan. Right?”
“Yes,” Michael said grimly. Everyone around here knew that.
“You were taken captive by the Taliban,” Damien continued, shocking him.
“How the HELL do you know that?” he snarled, angrily.
Damien was not put off by his ire. “I have my sources.” he replied. “And I suspect something else, too. They tortured you while you were in their hands. They tortured you…sexually. Didn’t they?”
He was shocked into immobility and silence. Damien nodded at his expression. “I thought so. And they made it hurt as well as feel good. At first you would have hated it, but after awhile…it started to really feel good. You started wanting it. To be hurt along with your pleasure. And you were ashamed of that fact, weren’t you? Ashamed, and afraid to ask for what you wanted from anyone. Because they’d all think that you were a freak, right? That there really was something wrong with you?”
He couldn’t move. He was exposed, his worst secret revealed…and by Damien Burkley of all people! “You don’t have to worry, Michael,” Damien went on. “I won’t tell anyone. It’s nobody else’s business but yours…and mine, now. Because you see…I like a bit of pain with my pleasure, too. It excites me. I can give you exactly what you need, Michael. And I’ll never judge you or look down on you for it. All you have to do is something that you haven’t done in years. You have to fuck me. And you have to hurt me. Doesn’t that sound good, Michael? Don’t you want to hurt me?” his glance was low-lidded and sensual.
He swallowed, thickly. The truth was, he DID want to hurt Damien. And he wanted to fuck him, as well. Damien saw the answer in his eyes, and grinned devilishly. “Then hurt me, baby. Hurt me good.”
A/N: Would anybody like to know what happens next? >>
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