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Now this was the way things were meant to be—Taki in charge and Tohma groveling on the ground, figuratively speaking. The first thing to go were the clothes, of course. Seguchi had always used apparel to put distance between himself and the peons, hiding himself behind layers and layers of sanitizing plumage. Keep the rabble from touching His Precious Majesty, that was his motto. Had to be, but Taki would have none of it. Time to turn the tables. Time for Tohma to learn what it was like to be dirt on the floor. Take him down a notch or twelve; teach Mr. Prissy Pants utter humiliation, show him how it felt to eat bugs and worms and drink his own piss. There were probably people in the world just that poor and famished. Why not Mr. Big Wig Executive?
Had the bastard ever known real suffering? No, only vicariously through the suffering of other people, like his faggot brother-in-law, or maybe his new lover, Bimbo Shindo. That's the closest the cocksucker has ever come to being raped...until now. Ha.
Unfortunately Taki couldn't stand that kind of male on male stuff; that's why he'd hired thugs the first time around. But that was my first mistake. Never include other people in a crime unless you're willing to kill them afterward. Gives them too much leverage over you.
Fine; he'd learned his lesson with Shuichi. Wouldn't make the same mistake with Seguchi. There were other ways to do the deed without engaging in it yourself. Like with a broken bottle. Broken bottles seemed to have some personal significance to the prick anyhow. Every time Taki accidentally kicked one across the floor the bastard flinched, like he remembered the sound from some other incident. On just how many other occasions had he been bound and gagged, then roped to a bench on the proscenium of a burned down old theater?
Must have been very disconcerting for the bastard to be symbolically blind, deaf and paralyzed. Blind because of the blindfold, paralyzed because of the ropes holding him down, and deaf because Taki refused to speak. Certainly the little blonde shit knew it wasn't one of his friends doing all this. Maybe there was someone else in Tohma's past he'd hurt even more than Taki. Let him worry about that other chump getting revenge. Heh.
But where to start? Maybe he should negate the need for all these bindings entirely—break all the fucker's limbs, cut out his tongue, pour bleach in his eyes. Then he wouldn't need the ropes or gags at all. Would bleach actually blind him? Taki wasn't sure, but if not, he could surely find something else that would. What was this? As he stepped forward on the dark stage, he nearly slipped on a gadget lying on the floor. The whole building was littered with burned equipment, props and debris. Ah, a screwdriver. As he bent down to pick up the stray tool, it occurred to him that this would certainly blind the bastard.
Yeah, this will do the job nicely.
He'd still have to find something to remove the tongue and crush the bones, but there was tons of litter around here. Surely he'd find a saw, some tinsnips or pipe cutters around somewhere. They must have had a carpenter build the sets in this theater. Must be plenty of tools around if he just looked for them. In any case, the police were no closer to finding the sucker, and Taki could afford to inflict his atrocities as the weapons for doing so became available.
The prisoner was now restrained; the judge, jury and executioner were ready to carry out sentencing.
Your Honor, it's time to approach the bench.
With the screwdriver firmly in his grip, Taki crossed the stage toward the condemned to finish his little drama.
TBC
Now this was the way things were meant to be—Taki in charge and Tohma groveling on the ground, figuratively speaking. The first thing to go were the clothes, of course. Seguchi had always used apparel to put distance between himself and the peons, hiding himself behind layers and layers of sanitizing plumage. Keep the rabble from touching His Precious Majesty, that was his motto. Had to be, but Taki would have none of it. Time to turn the tables. Time for Tohma to learn what it was like to be dirt on the floor. Take him down a notch or twelve; teach Mr. Prissy Pants utter humiliation, show him how it felt to eat bugs and worms and drink his own piss. There were probably people in the world just that poor and famished. Why not Mr. Big Wig Executive?
Had the bastard ever known real suffering? No, only vicariously through the suffering of other people, like his faggot brother-in-law, or maybe his new lover, Bimbo Shindo. That's the closest the cocksucker has ever come to being raped...until now. Ha.
Unfortunately Taki couldn't stand that kind of male on male stuff; that's why he'd hired thugs the first time around. But that was my first mistake. Never include other people in a crime unless you're willing to kill them afterward. Gives them too much leverage over you.
Fine; he'd learned his lesson with Shuichi. Wouldn't make the same mistake with Seguchi. There were other ways to do the deed without engaging in it yourself. Like with a broken bottle. Broken bottles seemed to have some personal significance to the prick anyhow. Every time Taki accidentally kicked one across the floor the bastard flinched, like he remembered the sound from some other incident. On just how many other occasions had he been bound and gagged, then roped to a bench on the proscenium of a burned down old theater?
Must have been very disconcerting for the bastard to be symbolically blind, deaf and paralyzed. Blind because of the blindfold, paralyzed because of the ropes holding him down, and deaf because Taki refused to speak. Certainly the little blonde shit knew it wasn't one of his friends doing all this. Maybe there was someone else in Tohma's past he'd hurt even more than Taki. Let him worry about that other chump getting revenge. Heh.
But where to start? Maybe he should negate the need for all these bindings entirely—break all the fucker's limbs, cut out his tongue, pour bleach in his eyes. Then he wouldn't need the ropes or gags at all. Would bleach actually blind him? Taki wasn't sure, but if not, he could surely find something else that would. What was this? As he stepped forward on the dark stage, he nearly slipped on a gadget lying on the floor. The whole building was littered with burned equipment, props and debris. Ah, a screwdriver. As he bent down to pick up the stray tool, it occurred to him that this would certainly blind the bastard.
Yeah, this will do the job nicely.
He'd still have to find something to remove the tongue and crush the bones, but there was tons of litter around here. Surely he'd find a saw, some tinsnips or pipe cutters around somewhere. They must have had a carpenter build the sets in this theater. Must be plenty of tools around if he just looked for them. In any case, the police were no closer to finding the sucker, and Taki could afford to inflict his atrocities as the weapons for doing so became available.
The prisoner was now restrained; the judge, jury and executioner were ready to carry out sentencing.
Your Honor, it's time to approach the bench.
With the screwdriver firmly in his grip, Taki crossed the stage toward the condemned to finish his little drama.
TBC
