Crossing The Line - 10. Down the Rabbit Hole

Down the Rabbit Hole

Still a little hazy, Ricky told himself as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Carlo had taken him back to his place to get clean and as close to sober as he could manage for the trick he had lined up and he knew it probably wasn’t going to be anything he’d enjoy since the man was very enraged at him for disappearing for so long.

“I lose money for every second your ass isn’t on that corner doing your job, boy!” His hand had cracked across Ricky’s face to emphasize his word. “Don’t think I haven’t figured out what’s going on with you! You owe me and I intend to collect everything that is due plus interest!”

Staring at the pale features in the mirror, Ricky sighed. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin was shallow looking but it was as good as it was going to get considering how much drugs and alcohol he’d crammed into his body over the past couple of days. Another sigh escaped him as he grabbed the pair of clean jeans from the counter top where Carlo’s driver had left them when he’d been shoved into the bathroom to make himself presentable.

Dizziness clouded his mind as he shoved his legs into the denim and yanked them up to button and zip them loosely around his waist. He had to put one hand out to steady himself against the sink. This was going to be harder than he had thought when Carlo had told him he would be entertaining two high rollers for the evening. He was in no shape to walk a corner much less do a private show for God knows what kind of dregs Carlo had found to be his most recent form of punishment.

“Hurry it up in there, kid,” the harsh voice of the driver ordered from the other side of the closed bathroom door. “We gotta go in a few minutes.”

“I’m almost done,” Ricky replied automatically, grabbing the black, long sleeved shirt from the counter with one hand while grasping the doorknob with the other. He yanked the door open and stepped out into the softly lit hallway while struggling into the shirt, shoving his arms through the sleeves and yanking it down over his head. “Where’s my boots?”

“In there where you left them,” came the irritated reply. “C’mon.”

Ricky glared at the man when his arm was seized in a vise grip and he was yanked forward. “I don’t need an escort, asshole,” he growled, trying to jerk his arm free. “I know my way around this place.”

“Shut up with the lip and get your ass in gear.”

Staggering along behind the man, Ricky wondered if Snow knew where he was by now or if Carlo had failed to inform his roommate that he’d tracked down the wayward whore and was going to put him back out on the streets this fast. He doubted if Carlo had said anything to Snow about finding him in the crack house much less sharing any information about what he had planned for him.

“Not as good as I would like,” Carlo’s voice stated, pulling Ricky from his musing. Those dark eyes bored into him as they looked him up and down. “But you’ll do for what I have planned. It’s not like they’re going to be looking at your face anyway.”

A shiver of dread ran through Ricky when he met the man’s gaze, recognizing the carefully controlled rage and dislike in their brown depths. It seemed like no matter what he did it was never good enough for Carlo. If he brought in twice his take, Carlo wanted thrice it. If he performed at a private party well enough to get a huge tip, Carlo was sure to point out that it would barely cover the costs of the drugs he’d used during the process. Nothing was ever good enough.

And it’s all because of Snow. He wants what I have and he resents me for being the one Snow accepts into his bed. It seemed a farfetched explanation but he was pretty sure it was true since the worst tricks he got seemed to be after Snow stood up for him about something he’d fucked up.

“Get your shoes on,” Carlo ordered, leaning back in the easy chair and crossing one leg over the other at the ankle. “We need to talk before I take you to the hotel.”

“Then talk.” Ricky dropped down onto the end of the leather couch and grabbed his boots from beside the coffee table. “I’m all ears.”

“Don’t get smart with me, boy,” Carlo snarled, his eyes narrowing as he watched him yank his boots on. “You ain’t in any position to cop an attitude with me.” He leaned forward slightly in an intimidating movement that Ricky recognized all too well. “You owe me for three days of work that you blew off to get yourself shitfaced in a fucking crack house with all the other degenerates you hang out with so don’t you dare go getting cocky with me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ricky muttered, yanking his boot on and straightening back up to meet the man’s angry gaze. “Just tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it.”

The older man was silent a few moments, using the time to take a cigarette from the silver case he’d picked up off the end table beside his chair. “You’re going to be entertaining two gentlemen of my acquaintance for a few hours in their hotel room.” He put the cigarette to his lips and lit it in one graceful motion with the silver lighter before returning it to his pocket. “It’ll be a little more than the run of the mill job but you’ll do it to the best of your abilities because you owe me.”

A cold dagger of fear stabbed into Ricky’s chest as he read the truth in Carlo’s features, the cynical twist of his lips and the glow of cruel satisfaction in the man’s eyes told him everything he needed to know about the upcoming trick he was being sent to. He resisted the urge to make a run for the door and sighed softly instead. Carlo was right. He did owe him and he always paid his debts no matter how distasteful the payment was.

Getting to his feet, he schooled his features to a blank look of emotionless acceptance. He could put up with anything Carlo threw his way. It wasn’t much different than the treatment he’d gotten before he left his uncle to try making it on his own. “Let’s get it over with.”

0o0o0o0o

An hour later, Ricky wasn’t too sure about himself and his limits. Carlo had escorted him to the hotel room and had introduced him to the clients with an almost sadistic glee. That should have tipped him off to what was expected of him but what that didn’t do, the appearance of the two men’s toys sure did. This hadn’t been the usual punishment from the beginning … being more intense in what was expected of him and his performance. He was use to tricks that got off on the pain of their partner but this was beyond anything he’d ever experienced before.

Shifting his weight on his knees to keep the rough carpet from digging into the skin, he said a silent thank you for the pills he’d been given before the show started in an attempt to make him more compliant to what these two had in mind for their sick enjoyment. The door had no more than shut behind Carlo’s retreating figure than he was plied with pills and vodka while the two men sat close beside him on the bed and made small talk to relax him.

But that didn’t last very long, Ricky told himself as he twisted his wrist in the leather strap that was holding him restrained to the bedposts at the bottom of the fancy hotel bed. He rested his forehead against the mattress and flinched as the thin leather whip dug into the flesh of his back again while low laughter echoed in his foggy mind. They didn’t waste any time in getting down to business once the pills kicked in.

“You wanna go first, Ben, or should I?”

Ricky tensed a little when hands touched his waist just above his hips but he forced himself to relax again as he remembered Carlo’s warning to him on the way over to the hotel. You do anything they want you to do, boy, and you better do it well or there’s gonna be consequences that I don’t have to tell you about right now.

He opened his mouth obediently and swallowed the three pills that were shoved inside, not caring what they were. Anything was better than being aware of what they were doing to him. He felt teeth sink into his left shoulder and stifled a cry of pain before it could escape his numb lips, dull throbbing spreading down toward his shoulder blade as the teeth sank deeper.

“C’mon, you fucking slut,” the deep voice of the larger man ordered as the teeth sank in further then he’d thought possible. “Show me how much you like it.”

A moan tore from Ricky’s lips as the teeth lifted and sank into another spot just at the side of his neck, and he felt hot trickles of blood slipping down his back from the whip marks. His head was spinning from the pills and the alcohol, and he wondered vaguely why they would want to drug him up so damn numb if they expected to hear his cries of pain.

He gasped softly as something hard and unyielding entered him from behind, little shocks of electric pain shooting up his back as the object was thrust in deeper and deeper. He could hear the men talking and laughing behind him, feel hands on his body as his wrists were released from the leather straps, and feel himself being pulled up onto his feet only to be shoved face first across the bed. The breath was pressed from his lungs as a heavy form settled on top of his back and something more accommodating was rammed into him.

He drifted on the waves of pain and allowed his eyes to slide shut half way until everything was a blur around him. He allowed the two men complete control over his body in any way they wished like he’d been trained to do. It was easier to let his mind retreat into the drug haze and let his body follow their orders.

Wha--? Ricky gasped for breath as pain shot through him in white hot pulses when he was yanked up off the bed onto his feet. Had he passed out? Was it over with? He peered through the blurred haze at the smaller man’s satisfied expression and slurred, “ Whasss goin’ on?”

Hands gripped his bleeding shoulders and turned him toward the bathroom doorway across the room. “Go get cleaned up, kid. Your boss will be here any minute to collect you.”

Ricky stumbled a few steps when a hand hit the center of his back and shoved him toward the open bathroom doorway. It was over with finally. He staggered into the bathroom and slowly sat down on the edge of the tub, his mind still floating somewhere in the abyss. He watched as his clothes were tossed onto the tiles at his feet and a voice told him to get dressed. He attempted to obey the command but the fog in his head made it difficult for him to discern where to begin. As if from miles away, he heard the bathroom door open but ignored it. There would be no more abuse since they’d said it was over so anything else was irrelevant to him right now.

A hand on his shoulder sent waves of hot agony through the injured flesh of his back and he gasped, raising his head to try and focus on the shadowy face looking down at him.

“Ricky, you’re done. I’m taking you home,” a vaguely familiar voice assured him, the tone strained and with a hint of anger in it.

He squeezed his eyes shut as the pain ebbed higher and tried to slow his breathing down. “Snow?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Relief filled Ricky as his lover’s hand gently caressed his hair and he knew he was safe now. Snow was here to help him.