by Lara Wilson

Turning the knob on the torch, he narrows the flame to a pinpoint, then turns to face his captive. Panic fills the kid's eyes, but he snarls defiantly. Slowly, he lowers the tip of the flame until it touches the straining shoulder. The odor of burning flesh hits him before his captive's curse, and he holds the flame there deliberately until the curse turns to a sharp cry.

The skin is black around the edges and an ugly red in the center, already puckering in blister.

Surveying the gorgeous, naked body tied to the cold metal table, arms and legs spread, head propped up, he decides and moves the torch to the crease of thigh and abdomen.

He doesn't have the courage to curse this time, simply screams. When he removes the flame, the young man pants one word, "Why?"

He thinks for a moment, his eyes roaming the body for the next spot, then he nods and walks to the foot of the table. "Why is this happening? Why am I doing this? Why did I turn? Why you?"

"All of the above," he bites out, fury driving away the pain in his voice.

He smiles and drags the flame over the sole of one foot, too quickly to do more than leave a red mark and make the bound man shudder. "You took him from me."

It takes a minute, and another quick application of the flame to the other foot, then he yells, "You're nuts, completely insane. You took him from me!"

The flame pressed to one big toe, searing the nail, leaving the imprint of the metal tube as it touched shrinking, burning skin. "His heart, Harper, you took his heart."

"He never would have given it to you," Roy pants through the agony.

"We'll see...Another's pain can be motivation enough." Turning off the torch and setting it aside, Slade moves to a closed door and opens it, entering the room beyond. A moment later, he drags a bound and gagged man from the room.

Roy's eyes widen and he struggles against his bonds.

"Pick the next spot, Grayson," Slade croons as he forces the man in his arms towards the table and pulls off the gag "Where shall I burn him next?"


Dick violently shakes his head, eyes wide with horror, and Slade's hand grabs him by the nape of his neck and forces him down until his face is against Roy's chest and their eyes are locked. The metal table is built for restraints and Slade quickly has him chained there, unable to move, unable to turn his head.

Whistling softly, Slade picks up the torch again and turns on the flame. "Harper, you tell me when he's ready to give in."

"Fuck you!"

"I doubt it will be long. One lover can never handle another's pain for long."

The flame hits the left knee cap and, eyes still locked, both men scream."


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