We're owl exterminators (shadow_hive) wrote,
We're owl exterminators

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Pairing: Matthew Tuck/Michael Paget
Rating: NC-17
POV: Michael
Warnings: Kinkverse
Notes: So I wanted to do something with kinkverse Padge and finally got an idea while listening to The Used song Cry.

Bridgend. You'd never find a more wretched hive of scum in all the country. I had left as soon as I was able, moving down to Cardiff at 23 to get away from this place. I never expected to come back, had never wanted to.

Two days ago, though, I had a visitor. Master Richard Boucher had turned up on my doorstep. I'd not seen him in years. He'd moved to Cardiff roughly the same time I did and we became friends, well as close as someone could be to someone like him. He was rough, brutal and he got a reputation. Masters feared him, sluts longed to be used by him. Most masters would like that, but I could see that he was getting bored by it.

It didn't surprise me when he up and left, heading some place new. What did surprise me was that place had turned out to be my hometown. What surprised me further was that he had then went on to become the Master of the place.

He had a someone with him, who looked just like him. For a minute I'd thought I was hungover and seeing double, but it became clear I wasn't. He'd never said he had a brother or a twin and he offered me no explanation even when I asked, so I didn't push it further. He was, after all, now the Master of Wales.

I was here again because he asked me to. Since he had been promoted to Master of Wales he could choose his replacement. He chose me, though why he didn't choose someone there was a mystery.

I pulled up into the driveway of my new home, a place on the edges of town that he had gotten me. Tomorrow I'd recieve the things I'd not been able to bring with me in the car and then I could get settled in properly.


Bridgend seemed better than it was when I was here last. Richard must have really done a good job taking control of the place. In all honesty I was nervous taking on such a role. I'd never wanted to be master of anywhere, but it's not as if I could have turned the offer down. It might have offended him and I wasn't sure what him and his... associate, would have done with me.

Still, I'm sure I could figure it out. Him personally appointing me would give me a bit of extra cred and I knew that meant no one would challenge me for awhile at least as a result.

I set everything up in my new place, with help from my slave, yesterday, so now I was driving through town to get a feel for the place again. Richard had left me some info and notes, things that he'd done over the past few years. It seemed one of the turning points for him was a moment before he became master, when he flayed Ian Watkins in front of an audience. (No loss there, Ian was a prick.)

There was also a few other notes as well, including two masters that had disappeared from the local area with no one claiming responsibility for them. One of them was Jason James, which was a shame. I remembered him from school and had got on with him. I'd considered looking him up again, to see if he wanted to help me out, so it was dissapointing to see he was gone. Maybe I could make some inquiries about it. A different approach might yield results where Richard had failed.

That could wait though. There was something else I had to do first, a matter I'd need to take care of. I smirked to myself, parking myself up in front of the local torture shop. I'd just need a few more things first.


I stood outside a house that I'd not been to in years. There was a time that this place was almost like a second home. I'd been happy here once. And then that fucker ruined it. I growled low in my throat and steeled myself, stomping up the driveway to the front door. I pressed the doorbell and waited, my foot tapping against the floor.

I knew the cunt was here, his car was in the driveway. "Coming!" I heard faintly from behind the door and I snarled at the sound of his voice, resisting the urge to just get my slave to tear the door open and drag him out.

A minute or two passed and then the door opened. "Who is..." The door opened to reveal the house's occupant and he froze as soon as he saw me. Matthew Tuck. He was a little taller than me, his dark bown hair much shorter now than it once was. He was topless, his hair wet and he clearly had just gotten out of the shower. He wasn't overly muscular, never had been and his eyes were wide, shocked to see me. "Michael." He swallowed noticeably, glancing behind me. "I... what are you doing here?"

"I am here for you." I replied, trying to keep my voice as even as possible, not betraying the emotions I felt. And I felt so much towards this man. He looked blindsided, not sure what to do. "You're coming with me."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Did that sound like it was a request Matthew?" I clicked my fingers and stepped aside, glad I had bought my slave with me for back up. I'd not expected him to come willingly, even due to my new position here. "Get this cunt."

"Yes Master." My slave strode past me towards Tuck. He was the complete opposite of him, with long blonde hair hanging to his shoulders and strong muscles. He could, and had before, been easily mistaken for a master. His name was Hibbs. If he had another name, I'd not been told it and not cared to ask.

Matthew backed up inside his house, trying to push the door shut, but my slave easily caught the wood and forced it to stay open. Matthew gave up with the door and I watched with amusement as he backed up, trying to get to the kitchen. "What's a matter Matthew? You're not afraid are you?" I chuckled as Hibbs grabbed him, easily hauling him over his shoulder, like he was nothing. Matthew thrashed and struggled but there was no way he was escaping his grip. "Put him in the boot."

"Let me go!" He was screaming now, an irritatng sound to be sure, which made me glad I'd gotten a gag. I circled around Hibbs, opening the boot of the car and picking up the gag. There were restraints built into this model of car to hold slaves, so all I had to do was wait for Hibbs to drop him into it and then I strapped the fucker in.

"Hold his mouth open while I put this in." Hibbs smiled, using his big fingers to hold my Tuck's lips apart. Matthew was trying to clamb his mouth shutl, but my slave suceeded in holding him open as I forced the cock gag into his mouth, strapping it in place tight. I took a moment to watch him gag and glare at me, smirking in satisfaction.

This was going to be fun.


Matthew Tuck was naked when I entered the room, his arms outstretch towards the ceiling, his wrists cuffed to a hook. He'd been left here for awhile after I'd came back. I wanted him to sweat, to cry. On the floor beneath him there was a puddle of his piss. Pathetic.

I smirked and slowly came over to him, my boots sounding on the concreate floor of the basement dungeon. He was glaring at me as I approached and I smirked, reaching up and undoing the strap of the gag, pulling it from his mouth. He coughed and took a few deep breaths, his eyes shooting daggers at me.

"Hello again Matthew. Did you miss me?" He growled, though it sounded completely non-threatening.

"You can't do this to me! Master Richard...."

"Hates you, and flayed your best friend alive in front of you." His eyes widened at my words and I smirked. "Plus I am his replacement, he chose me and I have his backing. You can ask him if you'd like, though I suspect he wouldn't be pleased with a snivelling worm like you disturbing him. He'd probably kill you just for that." He paled at my words and that shut him up. He always was a coward. I don't know what I ever saw in him. I ran a finger across the curve of his cheek, looking him in the eyes. "You know why you're here though right?"

"I've here cause you're a bitter bastard." He growled low in his throat, glaring at me. "Because now you have a taste of power you're using it to get back at me for dumping your sorry arse. You just can't get over how much you cried when I left you." He sneered, the little shit. He just didn't know when to stop talking, that was always his problem.

I punched him hard in the stomach, growling. He was right, of course. For once in his miserable life. I snarled and punched him again and again, his body swaying as he cried out in pain.

We had been in school together and there was always something about him, something that drew me and others to him. It was a magnetism of sorts. Although I knew I was a master, I was attracted to him. I thought of him when I jerked off, thought of him kissing and touching and fucking me.

One night when we were 17 I got drunk at his place and, I came out and said it. I told him what I'd thought about him. And then he'd kissed me. After that night we became lovers. We drank and laughed and hung out. As we got older we went to fucking parlours, fucking slaves together. We'd go to gigs together just so we could fuck the worthless musicians afterward. Once we could get ones of our own we tortured slaves together and then fucked in their still warm blood. I thought we would last forever.

I was wrong.

He started to hang out with Ian Watkins and that's when things changed. We saw one another less and less, with him doing things we used to do with Watkins over me. Eventually I had enough and confronted him about it. He'd laughed in my face and dumped me, saying he was 'done with a worthless fuck like you' and that 'I wasn't worth his time'.

That was the last day I had been at his house. Soon after I left Bridgend to go to Cardiff, too heartbroken and angry to stay.

I took a deep breath, panting from the exertion of beating him. As fun as this was, I need to take a break. I flexed my fingers, smiling at him and I circled around him. "You know, I wish I'd been here when Master Boucher flayed that useless piece of shit friend of yours." I leaned in, whispering in his ear. "Did you cry as you watched? Losing the only person that could stand to be your friend."

"F... fuck you."

I chuckled and shook my head, smirking. "No, you won't be fucking me again. Or anyone for that matter." I moved back around him, my boots sounding on the floor. "Master Boucher kindly left me a gift when he left. Have you noticed it?"

He shook his head, still glaring despite the pain he was in, or perhaps because of it. "No I haven't you fuck! Why should I care about what that bastard left you?"

"Oh I think you'll care about this one." I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair and I used my grip on his hair to angle his head down. "Letsee if you can see it now." I studied his face, watching to see when he got it. It took him a few moments, but then he was always an idiot. His eyes widened as soon as he did, his skin paling. "Yeah, you see it." With my other hand I stroked the leather trousers that had been left for me, especially the guns that were inked into the skin. "I think his skin looks much better on me than it did on him. Don't you think?"

"You..." He growled and I pulled his head back by his hair, hard enough to cut him off.

"You shold learn to shut up when your superiors I talking to you." I punched him, right in his smug face. I was sure I heard a crack, his nose starting to bleed. "You know, when we were together I thought of us taking this town, you standing beside me as we ruled this place. But now I see how foolish that was, how pathetic you are. How your place isn't beside me, but like this, or on your knees."

"Fuck you..." I punched him in the stomach again and he groaned, blood dripping onto his chest.

"What did I just say about speaking out of turn huh? I'll have to do something about that smart mouth of yours." I'd have to look into what I could do about that. Maybe I could find someone to sever or remove his vocal chords. Richard could do it with a flick of his wrist, like it was easuy, but I never got the hang of it. I'd still want to hear him scream of course. Ah well, there was plenty of time to look into the options. I intended to make this last. "Do you understand me?"

He nodded weakly. "I expect a verbal response."

"Yes. I understand." I narrowed my eyes at him and he winced as he said the words. "Master Paget." He looked like he was going to say something, but then thought the better of it.

"Go on, I'll let you speak this once."

"What will it take to for you to let me go?" I could see the beginnings of desperation in his eyes. "Money? Slaves? We could.... be together again, like old times."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "I'm going to make you bleed and beg and scream. I'm going to make you wish that you never said goodbye to me. And then I'll let you go." Of course, our definitions of letting go were likely very different. "Now then, how about we get started?"

I left him, going towards a set of shelves, covered in various toys. As much as I enjoyed punching him, I didn't want to damage my hand by going too hard. This place had a selection of the basics when I got here and I'd bought a few of my things with me as well. I looked over the stuff, wanting to pick just the right thing to use on him. I wanted him to hurt, obviously, but not enough to do lasting damage just yet.

I settled on a paddle that I'd gotten back in Cardiff. One side of it was covered in studs while the other had blunt spikes. He watched me as I returned to him, his chest rising and falling as he got his breath back. I saw his eyes dart down to my hand to see what I'd selected and there was slight relief on his face at my choice. I easily crossed the distance over to him in a few strides.

"Here is what is going to happen. I am going to use this on you. With each blow you will count. At ten I will switch sides and do it again. You can manage to count to ten right? That's not beyond you is it?"

He glared at me, but just nodded instead of saying something stupid. "I can do it Master Paget."

"Good." And with that I bought the paddle down, stud side, across his stomach.

He groaned in pain, but managed to grit out the word I wanted. "One." Satisfied, I began raining blows over him, giving him less time between each one. I started on his thighs. "Two. Three." Then went up to his chest. "Four." And the back of his left forearm. "Five." Then I went behind him, hitting his upper and lower back. "Six. Seven." And then each cheek of his arse. "Eight. Nine!" The final one was against his right arm, mirroring the fifth blow. "Ten!"

I smiled, pleased he was able to do it. I gave him a brief moment to take a few breathes, then rotated the paddle in my hand so that the spikes were facing out. "Well you've shown you can count to ten. Congratulations! Now let's see if you can do it again."

I didn't give him chance to object or otherwise comment. Instead, I hit him with the padde again, across his torso. "One. Two. Three." He groaned with each word as I moved down to hit his trembling thighs again. "Four. Five." I then his him right on his soft dick and he howled, his body thrashing. "Six you fuck!" I ignored the insult for now and slammed the paddle against his left side. "Seven." The next blow was to his upper back, between his shoulder blades. "Eight." The last two blows were simple and landed across his already marked ass. "Nine! Ten! Fuck!"

He panted stuttering breaths and I smiled, admiring the fresh marks that were appearing across his skin. It suited him, being all beaten like this. He'd look even better once the bruises formed. Once I was in front of him again I gripped his chin, tilting it up to meet me. He was trying not to cry, failing miserably. "Awww can't handle a little pain?"

He looked at me, but said nothing, apparently having learnt his lesson. For now anyway, I was sure he'd be back to mouthng off again soon enough. "Well, let's make you bleed a little more next yeah?"

I let go of his chin, then headed back to the shelves, looking for something to make him bleed. There were a few different kinds of knives, including a scalpel, but I didn't feel ready to use them just yet. There were a few hook attachments that I could attach to the chains that currently held him and a few bladed dildos. All of them made my dick ache, though still didn't seem like the right thing. Then I saw it. It was a flogger I'd picked up yesterday, only attached to the tips were razor blades.

So I set the paddle down and lifted the flogger's handle into my hand, giving it an experimental swing through the air, nodding to myself. "Yeah, this'll do nicely." I turned back to face him and his eyes were wide. He opened his mouth, but clearly thought the better of it. "There's no need for you to count this time."

I lashed the flogged against his chest, him crying out in pain. "Though feel free to scream as much as you want." I smirked, doing it once more on his chest, the sounds of pain making my dick ache against the leather I was wearing. I'd need to fuck his sorry arse soon. I circled around him, bringing it down across his back. I hit it across where the paddle had hit him, which made him scream extra loud. "Yeah, I love it when you scream, much better than you talking." I hit him across his low back, his body jerking against the chains that held him.

I swung the flogger just a few more times, the blades tearing into the skin of his back, blood dripping out from every wound. Every noise of pain he made was music to my ears, each cry made my dick ache. I decided that he'd had enough. Well, not enough really, but enough for now. That and my dick sorely needed attention. I set the bloodied flogger back on the shelf, knowing I'd get Hobbs to clean it up later before returning to Matthew's bloodied body.

"Seeing you like this has made me so hard, hard enough to want to fuck you." I undid the zipper of my trousers, smirking to myself as I pulled out my erection. "I wonder, is this hole of yours still virginal, or did your little friend get to fuck it?" He didn't reply, though I could hear him take shaky breaths. "Well, I might ask you later, when you're not dripping blood all over the place and I'm not hard as a rock." I used one hand to hold his arse cheeks apart, glancing at down at the puckered opening that was revealled to me. I ran two fingers through his blood, hearing him his in pain. I didn't really want to finger him, but knew if he really was a virgin it'd be a struggle getting in otherwise. (And even if he wasn't, with Ian gone who would there be to fuck him?)

I forced two bloody fingers into him, hearing him hiss at the intrusion. I smirked, shoving them in deep. I should have had Hibbs do this, as he had nice big fingers. Ah well, there was always next time. I flexed my fingers inside, just enough to open him up for my cock before removing them from him.

"That's enough, let's give that worthless arse of yours a purpose." I wiped my bloody fingers across my dick and lined myself up with his opening. I thrust my hips, burying myself into him in one go. He cried out in pain the sound making me groan along with the feeling of his tight hole. "Oh yeah, you're my little bitch now Tuck." I snarled, leaning into his ear as I felt him twitch around me. "How's it feel huh? You like having a cock balls deep inside you?"

He shook his head, not responding. Or maybe he was about to and the response was lost as I started to fuck him. "Don't worry though, I might be your first but I certainly won't be the last." My slave would go next and he was quite well endowed. Then I'd make some calls, see who else would like to sample his arse. Who knew how many people he had screwed over with Ian while I'd been gone? I'd send an invite to Master Boucher too, see if he'd like to give the smug fuck a go. Hopefully I could find Jason as well, Tuck hadn't exactly been pleasent to him either.

I shifted my hands around him, gripping onto his wounded thighs and I wished I'd flogged them as well. Ah well. I dug my nails into them, then started to fuck him hard and rough. He hadn't given a fuck when the roles were reversed, so why should I now? "You're gonna become a dirty little cockslut. By the time I'm through with you you might even start begging for it." I licked at his neck and he shook his head again. As if he had a say in the matter. "You might even start to enjoy it, get a little boner." Before I have you castrated, I added to myself, smirking at the thought. I slammed into him, the thought drawing me closer to the edge.

I'd keep his voice until I castrated him, wanting to hear him beg and plead to keep his worthless balls. Only then would I silence him. Maybe I'd remove his tongue, or cut his vocal chords. I growled. Maybe both, ater cutting his dick off too. I growled, the thoughts swiming through my head getting me off.

I had to pull myself back to the moment, to the here and now. Now I had him bleeding, could here him cry and moan and sob as he got fucked. "You're should get used to this. Used to screaming and crying, bleeding and being fucked. Shit." I growled, biting into his neck hard as I came into him. Not for the last time.

I pulled out of him, smirking as I heard him hiss in pain and sob. I quickly tugged my bloody cock away, smirking at the blood covering the tattoos on my trousers. There was something fitting about Tuck's blood over Ian's tattoos. "I'll leave you to think about what you've done and the many, many mistakes you have made with your miserable life."

And with that I headed to the door and left him. Standing by the door at the bottom of the basement stairs was my slave, Hibbs, who nodded at me. Once I shut and locked the door, I looked at him. "In an hour, go inside and clean him up. IIf he's pissed himself again make him lick it up. You can fuck him if you like." He grinned at that and I smirked. "Then tie him to the toilet for the night. I don't want you to have to clean up his filth."

"Yes Master Paget." He nodded obediently with a smile, his eyes on my bloody thighs.. He may look intimidating, but he was a good slave and knew how to follow instructions.

"Come on, you can clean my cock off before I get in the shower." He brightened further and I led the way upstairs into the main house. I'd take a nice long rest before heading back down there again. Maybe I'd watch as Hibbs uses him as a punchbag...

The phone started ringing as soon as I entered the living room and I sighed in slight irritation. "Go up to my room and get on your knees, I'll just be a minute." Hibbs nodded and headed up the stairs as I picked up the phone. "Master Paget of Bridgend." I answered, fully expecting it to be some dumb fuck from town needing something.

"Michael, I hope you are setting into your new role." Master Boucher spoke up from the other end of the line and I shivered, hoping he'd not taken offense by how sharply I'd answered.

"Yeah, thank you Master Boucher. I just finished up on my first torture session with Tuck actually. Thank you for offering up this role and giving me this opportunity."

"It is quite alright my friend. I hope he is suffering, he always was a bit of a prick." I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Actually I was wondering if I could discuss something with you. Not over the phone though." I shivered, wondering what it was and why he couldn't tell me over the phone. There was something about his voice though, he sounded, well different somehow. "How about you come up this weekend? You can bring your slave too if you want."

"Yeah, sure." I replied, knowing I couldn't exactly reject a summons from my country's Master.

"Excellent! I'll see you then." And with that, he hung up, leaving me with further questions. Well, I'm sure it was nothing to worry about, that's what I told myself anyway. I hung the phone up, took a breath and then headed up to my bedroom. I had my slave waiting for me after all.
Tags: kinkverse
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