The injury couldn't have come a worst time and to top it off Hunter was 110% sure that it had been premeditated. Shawn bustled around the training room, his face set in a mask of concerned worry as the trainer went on about his business. The short copper haired man had come and gone; shaking his head sadly as he bandaged Hunter's arm while 'tsking' over the 'follies of meat headed barbarians' before informing Hunter that while the arm wasn't broken it was fractured and until he healed he wasn't cleared to compete. Shawn made one more circuit around the room, making Hunter sigh in annoyance.
"Shawn! Knock it off already." Hunter barked irratably, his patience worn thin. "What the hell is your deal anyways?"
Shawn opened his mouth but then snapped it shut and went back to fidgeting.
"Hey, I asked you a question Shawn." Hunter prodded, his eyebrow quirked when it seemed like Shawn went out of his way to avoid answering.
"He was just keeping an eye on you until I could get here."
The mocking deep drawl made Hunter's head whip around and he snarled when his eyes landed on Paul. The large man hadn't yet had the chance to change from his ring gear so the large plumed hat that always seemed present looked hilariously out of place. Behind him Chris was standing quietly, his perfectly gelled hair standing up in spikes and his pristine suit wrinkled.
"What the fuck do you want Wight? And where the hell is Matt?"
Paul laughed and moved over to lean against the counter; his legs crossed at the ankles. Chris stood to his right, still quiet but his eyes scanning the room as if looking out for in coming attacks like he was going to be of any real threat to any body. As Paul and Hunter glared at each other Shawn ducked his head and left; nodding to Chris as he hurried past but trying to stay as far off of the two glaring men's radar as possible.
"He's in a safe place Helmsley...well maybe not safe, but he's being taken care of."
"Where. is. he?"
The growled question wasn't aimed at Paul that time; the glowing amber eyes were instead trained on the shorter man, boring into him and making him tremble. Twice Chris opened his mouth but shut it each time when he caught Paul watching him with a frown on his face. In the end he meekly excused himself from the room; leaving Paul to snarl and fight with Hunter. The two large men squared off; Hunter's face unemotional by force as Paul jeered and sneered at him.
"You're pathetic Helmsley, caring about the fate of a slut like Hardy." Mockingly he put on a saddened face and lowered his voice, "It's sad really Hunter; he's only looking for a 'daddy'." Paul laughed cruelly as he moved towards the door. "And I fully intend on using him until he's a washed up nobody, both in the ring and in the beds of his fellow talent."
Hunter snarled and threw a pair of scissors at the door; sticking them into the hard wood just a few inches from Paul's hand. Amused Paul quirked his eyebrows and pulled scissors from the door; laughing as he flung them carelessly to the floor.
"Such anger Helmsley, I think you'd better go get some help for that before Ole Vinny Mac becomes aware of your little problem. You see what he did to Randy, although I must admit he has become the shining jewel of my pets. But I do fear that once Hardy is retaught his manners he'll take that spot for himself." Paul clicked his tongue and looked at his watch, shaking his head in false remorse. "As much as I have enjoyed our chat Helmsley, I must be off; I have to check in on Hardy and make a chart of his progress."
With a condescending smile Paul tipped his hat and left; the door shutting silently but sounding as loud as a gavel in a quiet courtroom to Hunter. He narrowed his eyes and tipped the rolling cart of supplies; angry at himself for even caring what happened to Matt and angry for not being able to do anything to help him. After grabbing his discarded knee pads he slammed from the room and headed down towards his locker room with the intent to question Shawn the moment he got there but when that door slapped loudly against the cold concrete Hunter found himself to be the sole occupant of the room.
Dressing never took him longer than ten minutes and that night it was under five; his mind whirling and concocting as he stormed from the building. By the time he had himself believing that he was only worried about Matt's well being; that no one deserved to be made into what Paul was forcing the dark haired man to become. He fixed his mirror and caught sight of himself in the mirror; his lie to himself not standing up under the honeyed gaze and dropping down to his hands that were clenched on the wheel.
The radio was muted and the quiet crunching of his wheels on the broken parking garage floor sounded impossibly loud and he gratefully thanked the headache that was building behind his eyes. As he pulled onto the street he murmured lowly in the silent interior of the car while stomach turning images of what was being done to the dark Hardy flashing before his eyes, making him swallow to keep down the bile that wanted to rise up his throat and choke him. The consuming feelings that had him in their claws left his brow sweating and his heart racing for no good reason and as the miles fell away and the hotel came into view he finally admitted to himself that Matt Hardy had somehow gotten past his defenses.
"Your posture is amazing Hardy. You're not new to this are you?"
Matt held his tongue, he knew that the question was rhetorical and that Glenn wasn't really looking for an answer. Instead he glared at the tall bald man with as much contempt as he could put into his steely gaze. Matt had been told to kneel and then was placed in a hogtie restraint; his arms pulled back sharply to make his chest stick out. His silence and hateful glares not seeming to phase Glenn in the least; the older man continued speak as he laid a variety of leather toys and such out on the bed.
"You can't be new to this, you're reactions-even forced-are too perfect. That only leaves one question. Who trained you Hardy. My first guess would be Copeland, but he's got the attention span of a gnat. The next obvious answer would be Gangrel; Grel has trained a lot of boys in his time. But your style speaks of someone even older. My money is on Hayes. Am I right Hardy? Was Hayes the one that took you in and broke that wild streak that your brother flaunts so readily?"
Matt growled, his eye narrowed as he watched the smug expression cross Glenn's face.
"I thought so. He did a good job."
Glenn circled Matt twice, a riding crop dangling from his wrist and a blindfold sticking out from his back pocket. One of his meaty hands wrapped itself in Matt's inky locks and jerked his head back at an unnatural angle, eliciting a pained yelp that was stifled by a ballgag being shoved into Matt's mouth. The hogtie restraint was then removed and Matt's hands were then bound in front of him with police flex cuffs. Next came the blindfold and Matt struggled as much as he could before crying out shrilly from behind the gag as the riding crop was brought down hard against his shoulder blades.
"No moving slut unless I tell you too."
Another stinging blow landed and Matt forced himself to settle down; his head bowed even though he wanted nothing more than to scream and fight what was being done to him. No noise sounded in the room and after a few minutes Matt began to shift around as he knees started to protest the long period without any movement. Another blow left it's mark on his body, this time the stinging blow landing to his lower back and sending Matt sprawling forwards onto his face.
"Hardy, Hardy, Hardy. Seems as if you've forgettong the basic rules. You don't move unless I tell you too." Glenn clicked his tongue; tapping the flat end of the riding crop against Matt's cheek. "And that's really horrible considering I just said that you don't move unless I tell you too."
Another hard lash hit his back and tears crawled silently from under the blindfold; the silver runnels leaving wet speckles on the floor from where the large drops splashed down.
"And seeing as how you forgot that simple, SIMPLE rule Hardy; we're gonna start at the beginning." Glenn laughed cruelly and he brought the crop down one more time. "You; slut are to refer to me as Master. You do what I say when I say it. You kneel out of servitude, you are not equal, you are nothing more than a warm body for me to use for my release."
A foot placed in the middle of Matt's back kept him from moving; further re-enforcing that every move of his depended solely on Glenn. Images and buried memories of his days as Hayes' sub came flooding back; swallowing him whole and reawakening the self loathing and worthlessness that had taken and twisted from the fun loving young man he had been into the dark and brooding portion of the New Brood. Hayes had been a cakewalk compared to what Gangrel had put him through, but those memories Matt refused to let surface. His eyes closed behind the silk as fresh tears wet his skin and slid hotly down his face. The foot disappeared and Matt groaned as he was drug back to kneeling position; his head yanked back further than before and some of his hair giving way from the stress and pressure.
"I can see why Paul wants you trained back up and I clearly remember how good you were when I had you beneath me." The wet feel of Glenn's tongue against his neck made Matt shiver violently in revulsion. "Maybe I'll make an offer to Paul and you for my own."
Hands snaked down his body; lifting his shirt to drift warmly over the quivering muscles of his stomach and over his chest. Matt gulped hard and tried to keep from moving even though his mind was screaming at him to move. Glenn's thick, calloused fingers snagged one of Matt's nipples, tugging it cruelly and pulling it as far from Matt's body as it could go. Pain and heat coursed through Matt's veins and shameful tear flowed down his face as he felt his body begin to stir to life.
Leather slipped around his throat and was buckled tightly; restricting his airway just enough to make him grow even hard and pant lightly. A tiny whimper crawled up his throat and a blush settled on his cheeks while his mind sighed in relief that Glenn couldn't hear the noises that were slowly working their way from his throat.
"Now my little slut, your collar. You live by this leather strap I have placed around your throat. Without it you are nothing more than stray; offering your ass and body to the first person that makes you horny. And while you will still be offering your ass to others, it will only be to the ones that your Master have deemed worthy of your time. You dishonor that collar and you dishonor your dishonor your Master and you get punished."
The words growled so closely to his ear made Matt tremble and he leaned lightly into Glenn's touch; his body over riding the screaming of his brain.
"Does my slut like the idea of being punished? Does he like the thought of being handled roughly?"
Glenn's voice rang mockingly in his ear and humiliation flooded through his system sending more molten heat down to his slowly lengthening member.
"I think you do Hardy, in fact just thinking about that one night makes me want to fuck again. Only this time I won't hold back all the things I want to do, I'll gladly put you through pain Hardy since it's what you seem to crave." The words were accompanied by a hard bite to his shoulder blade; making Matt moan loud and brokenly behind the gag. "Oh Hardy, such a pain slut, it's too bad that I'm not allowed to sample you. I would anyways but Paul's a good friend of mine. Sooo, maybe I'll just leave you a writhing mess for him instead." Glenn's hand left his nipple and slid down to cup his twitching length. "But I think I don't need to do much-"
Glenn's words were cut off by a sharp knocking at the door. A needy whimper escaped Matt at the loss of Glenn's hands and he shuffled around in agitation as he heard Glenn's steady footfalls heading over to the door. The deep sound of Paul's rumbling voice reached his ears but he couldn't make out the words; they were too far and talking to low for him to hear clearly. The door clicked shut and silence permeated the room; letting Matt know that he had been left bound, gagged and alone.