Stolen Heaven
part 9

        Josef pushed Philip into another room and stood blocking the doorway 
until Arkadi joined them. "Thank you, Josef, now please wait for our other guest 
to arrive. Send him in when he does," Arkadi instructed, then he closed the door 
and advanced on Philip. The priest backed a few steps away, then stopped dead as 
he got a good look at the room. There was a bed in the room with chains and 
shackles attached to its frame, a nightstand, and a trunk that contained 
who-knew-what. The sheets on the bed were a black satiny material, and the room 
was lit entirely by candles -- if it weren't for the presence of his host, and 
the obvious restraints on the bed, Philip might have found the room rather 
appealing. Instead, it was terrifying...
        "Leave me alone," he warned, praying his soccer skills might help him 
win a fight with the larger man -- at least he wasn't woozy from the drug any 
more, and Arkadi was nowhere near as large and strong as Josef.
        Arkadi laughed and walked calmly towards him, then said, "The door's 
unlocked -- you can leave this room if you can get past me, although Josef won't 
let you out of the house. Come on, Philip, what are you so afraid of? Breaking 
your vows? I believe the phrase is 'been there, done that'?"
        "You bastard!" Philip growled, edging back and trying to work his way 
around so that he could run past Arkadi towards the door.
        "So, what do you think of Derek now, Philip?" Arkadi asked, knowing that 
would distract the priest and make him much easier to overwhelm. "He's beautiful 
when he comes, isn't he? It's incredible when he loses control -- that wonderful 
voice moaning in glorious pleasure..."
        "Y'tricked him somehow -- drugged or somethin'!" Philip said 
desperately.
        "So amusing, that you refuse to believe Derek could enjoy that kind of 
thing on his own -- you aren't the kind who thinks that's 'sick', are you? Poor 
Derek, having to live with friends like that," Arkadi purred, "It must be so 
difficult for him to keep his own needs so submerged."
        Philip shook his head and said, "No -- I-- Why would he want to be 
hurt?" The words were out of his mouth before he ever realized it. He cringed 
inwardly when Arkadi laughed.
        "Some people just like the intensity, Philip. Derek's one of them -- 
perhaps, when he arrives, I'll show you how much he likes it." He walked closer, 
and said, "Perhaps, I should give you a demonstration now?"
        "No!" Philip cried, making a break for the door on pure instinct and 
fear instead of the careful planning he'd hoped to use. Arkadi dodged to the 
side and grabbed at him, bringing him down in something close to a football 
tackle. "Lemme go!"
        "Too late, Philip. You had your chance," Arkadi purred, pulling Philip's 
arms back behind him and moving to straddle the priest's legs so that he could 
hold Philip down fairly well with one hand. He released him with the other hand 
and reached into the robe's pocket for something. When Philip felt the thick 
cord looping around his wrists, panic lent him strength. He bucked and struggled 
-- and prayed -- but Arkadi had the advantage. He was making it difficult for 
the man to tie the cord securely, but he couldn't unseat him, and face down on 
the floor he couldn't kick or bite him either.
        "Le' me go!" Philip snarled, trying to claw at Arkadi's hands, anything 
to stop this before it went any further!
        "Struggle all you want, Philip, you'll only prolong this..." Arkadi 
hissed as he finally managed to tie the cord securely around Philip's wrists. He 
turned then, straddling Philip's legs again but now facing towards his feet, and 
quickly tied another cord around his ankles before Philip could struggle to his 
knees or turn beneath him. He could almost taste the priest's fear, feel it 
emanating from him in waves as the seriousness of his situation sank in. "Relax, 
Philip. You'll enjoy it so much more that way..."
        "No..." Philip moaned, struggling against the bonds. He knew that what 
he saw on the bed meant that these were more than likely just temporary 
bindings, but the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming with both his hands 
and feet tied. He prayed desperately for help to arrive -- for Nick to burst 
through the front door and shoot Arkadi if need be -- but he couldn't even hear 
anyone moving outside the room. "I don' want this -- when y'get caught, I'll 
testify against ya!"
        "Perhaps you will -- but right now, you're the one who's caught, 
Philip," Arkadi purred, standing up and looking down on his prize hungrily. 
Between the priest's fear and writhing, he was beginning to grow hard. While he 
really wanted to satisfy himself with Derek, debauching his ex-lover's pretty 
friend would have to do -- for now. _I wonder if they'll ever trust you again 
after this, my Angel..._ he thought, directing his lust towards Derek.
        Philip rolled onto his side, tried to get to his knees and ended up 
settling for sitting instead. "Let me go, y'bastard." With his hands tied behind 
him and his feet bound together, his balance was thrown off. When he tried to 
struggle to his feet he fell back almost immediately, cursing under his breath 
as Arkadi chuckled.
        "Let me help you," Arkadi said softly, grabbing Philip under his arms 
and hauling him to his feet, ignoring the grunt of pain as the awkward position 
strained Philip's shoulders. He then quickly scooped Philip up into a fireman's 
carry, careful to keep away from hands that were now straining to gouge or 
scratch -- anything to try and gain some small victory. He smiled and walked 
over to the bed, deposited Philip on it very carefully. "There, isn't that 
better?"
        "No!" Philip growled, far too aware that he was running out of options.
        "Too bad." Arkadi rolled him onto his stomach and sat straddling his 
legs again. While Philip struggled even more desperately, in a short time Arkadi 
had his feet untied and one of them securely bound to the bed frame. Philip bent 
the free leg back in an attempt to kick at Arkadi, but he wasn't at an angle to 
do any real damage, and shortly both legs were bound. "I hope you're not too 
fond of these jeans, Philip. You should have dressed in the pajamas I provided," 
Arkadi purred as he turned around to sit on Philip the other way. When Philip 
tried to buck him off, Arkadi grabbed the dark hair and forced his face down 
into the pillow. "That's *enough*," he warned, his tone suddenly dark and 
threatening. "There's no way to escape this. I can practically *taste* your 
fear, and you're still not strong enough to free yourself. You're just going to 
wear yourself out -- or get hurt -- and frankly it's getting a little tiresome."
        When he released Philip, the younger man lifted his head and took in 
great gulps of air. While Philip was occupied, Arkadi untied his wrists and 
pulled his left arm up over his head, then quickly fastened a leather restraint 
around his wrist, binding him securely to the bed. After a brief struggle, the 
other hand was similarly bound, at which point Arkadi stood and took a step 
back, admiring his handiwork.
        "Mmn...yes, very nice," he murmured, looking at the muscled legs and 
nicely rounded buttocks as Philip's eyes blazed furiously at him.
        "Let. Me. Go," Philip ground out, his accent even thicker than usual in 
his anger. "What're you gonna do t'me now?"
        "What do you think, Philip?" Arkadi reached into the pocket of his robe 
again and withdrew a short-bladed folding knife. "But first, those jeans have to 
go..."
        "No!" Philip gasped as he felt Arkadi slide the knife under his jeans at 
one ankle and begin to slice the material open. Arkadi cut both legs up to the 
seat of Philip's jeans, then reached one hand under the priest and unbuckled his 
belt, pulled it free of the belt loops. Once the belt was out of the way he 
sliced the jeans open along the seam up through the waistband, then pulled the 
ruined fabric out from under his captive. Next he sliced off Philip's underwear, 
making sure to allow the cold metal of the blade to slide along the priest's 
skin and enjoying the shiver it caused.
        After the underwear, he slit Philip's shirt up the back and just pushed 
the fabric aside, then he sat on the edge of the bed and gently traced designs 
on Philip's back with the back of the blade. He heard Philip whispering, and 
when he leaned closer, realized his captive was praying his heart out. He 
chuckled softly and folded the knife, placed it carefully on the nightstand, 
then gently stroked Philip's cheek.
        "Why are you so frightened, Philip?" he asked, standing and walking to 
the trunk. After retrieving an item, he returned to the bed and sat beside 
Philip again, this time using the soft leather flogger he held to stroke up and 
down Philip's spine. "I'm sure, with your education, you're well aware that 
priests in medieval times used self-flagellation to purge themselves of impure 
thoughts -- to punish themselves when they sinned..." He paused just enough to 
hear the catch in Philip's breath, and then the increased fervor of his 
whispered prayers, then he continued, "We both know you're a sinner, Philip -- I 
know you've slept with both of them. You've got a real problem with those vows 
of yours, and it's about time someone did something about it."
        He stood and Philip craned his neck to look up at him, eyes wide in 
terror as he caught a glimpse of Arkadi's body beneath the now-loosened robe, 
the rampant erection that the silk brocade failed to hide. "Oh my God..." he 
whispered, fear clenching his heart as Arkadi raised the flogger and brought it 
down rapidly.
        The soft leather straps hit Philip across his buttocks, bringing a cry 
more of fear than of pain as the stroke stung for only a moment. Then Philip 
turned his head away, returning to his prayers and trying to hide his terror -- 
something told him that his fear was only feeding Arkadi's lust and the last 
thing he should do was encourage it. Unfortunately, he failed to follow the 
reasoning through -- if Arkadi wasn't getting the desired reactions to what he 
was doing, he might try harder...
        The next stroke was harder and the one after that harder still. By the 
fourth stroke, Philip was feeling genuine pain, his prayers catching in his 
throat with each lash -- until the next one wrenched a yelp from him. Arkadi 
paused in his punishment and trailed the tips of the straps up and down the soft 
skin of Philip's inner thighs, smiling as Philip looked back at him, surprised 
by the sudden change of tactics. There was still terror in the sea-coloured 
eyes, but this time it was a different kind of terror -- the kind of terror 
caused when one finds out that he may not be as much in charge of his body as he 
thought...
        And just as Philip's muscles began to relax, Arkadi brought a hand down 
hard on the tortured buttocks, laughing as his captive cried out in outraged 
pain. "What's wrong, Philip?" he asked, now stroking the reddened flesh with one 
hand and trailing the tips of the flogger up and down Philip's back with the 
other.
        Philip shook his head and buried his face in the pillow, trying to 
ignore what was happening to him, praying for help or at least a way to survive 
this. "Leave me alone..." he moaned as Arkadi dug nails into his sensitized 
skin. "Please stop this."
        "No, Philip. Look at you -- you're starting to react to this, aren't 
you? I bet you're hard..." He leaned down and purred the next right in Philip's 
ear, "You need to be punished for your sins, Philip."
        "All that's Holy, give me strength," Philip whispered, turning away from 
Arkadi and trying to hide the colour burning his cheeks.
        "I doubt anyone's going to answer you, Philip," Arkadi purred in the 
other ear, his breath tickling and making Philip gasp, "You know you should be 
punished -- why should anyone stop me when you know you deserve this?"
        Arkadi stood again and resumed flogging Philip, varying the strength and 
location of the strokes now, smiling as his captive tried to squirm away from 
the punishment. He knew that Philip's erection had wilted, but at this point he 
didn't care -- the priest's helplessness and fear were tickling his senses, the 
power he held over this man burning in his blood and bringing him ever closer to 
orgasm without even touching himself. He was so close -- just a few more strokes 
and--
        As he raised his arm to lash Philip again, someone grabbed his wrist and 
a familiarly accented voice yelled "Stop this now!"
        The aborted downstroke pulled his attacker close -- he could feel 
burning heat through his robe and wondered just how long Derek had stood there, 
watching, before he moved to rescue his friend. Before he turned, he caught a 
glimpse of Philip's face, warring expressions of relief and uncertainty 
flickering in the sea-blue eyes. Then he turned and met Derek's furious gaze.
        "Let him go," Derek commanded, looking past Arkadi to Philip and 
frowning as he saw the condition his friend was in.
        "Derek, no!" Philip groaned, "Don' do this!"
        Derek shook his head and said, "I won't let him do this to you, Philip. 
You haven't done anything to deserve this. Victor, let him *go*!"
        "You haven't even let me go, Derek," Arkadi purred, bringing up his free 
hand to stroke Derek's cheek and smiling when Derek tried to shake him off. "I 
*will* let him go, but there will be a price."
        "There always is with you, Victor," Derek whispered bitterly. He 
released Arkadi's arm and nodded, suddenly unable to look at Philip.
        "Very good," Arkadi said with a smile, then he adjusted his robe and 
walked to the door, where Derek and Philip could hear him quietly instructing 
Josef although neither of them could hear exactly what he was saying.
        "Derek, don't..." Philip said softly, his voice catching.
        "It's too late, Philip, it's already done."
                                    -==**==--
When our actions do not,
Our fears make us traitors.
                --Shakespeare, MacBeth

        When Detective Carmack arrived, he found Nick and Alex sitting at a desk 
nursing cups of coffee. Nick stood and said, "Good thing you're here -- Derek 
ditched us and took the Explorer."
        Carmack frowned and said, "Damn it, Nick, I told him to leave this to 
us--" He paused and looked around, then continued once he was sure the librarian 
wasn't within earshot, "So, this *is* Legacy related, then?"
        Alex looked at him and answered, "I'm pretty sure it's Legacy related. 
How much did he tell you?"
        "That Philip had been kidnapped. Not a whole lot more -- do you have any 
leads at all?"
        Nick handed him the matchbook and said, "Sorry -- I know it's evidence 
and I've probably got my own fingerprints all over it, but I figure Derek 
already touched it, too."
        Carmack looked at the matchbook, his eyes widening in surprise, then 
looked back at Nick. "Great," he said, shaking his head, "How much have you two 
moved or touched already?"
        "Not all that much," Alex answered sheepishly. "Sorry -- we're so used 
to dealing with less...tangible enemies, and we were so worried about Philip and 
now Derek -- preserving a crime scene wasn't first and foremost in our minds." 
She sighed and added, "Really should have known better, but..."
        Carmack nodded and said, "That's all right, Alex, *Derek's* the one who 
should *really* know better. I understand how you feel, even if I wish you folks 
would leave the police work to the people who get paid to do it. I'll have the 
forensics guys go over the place anyway -- you think the Power Exchange is where 
Derek ran off to?"
        Nick nodded and said, "Probably. Last time we saw him he was heading for 
the area where we found that matchbook..."
        Carmack shrugged slightly and said, "Okay -- give me five minutes to get 
things started here, and then we'll go."
        The two of them waited as he went to speak to the librarian, then 
followed him out to his car where he radioed in for a forensics team. Once 
instructions were given and they were ready, he said, "Okay, let's go." As he 
put the car into gear he muttered, "*This* is going to be interesting..."

        A short drive later, Carmack grumbled about the lack of parking and 
brought his car to a stop as close to the line of parked cars as he could get. 
He turned on the mars light and said, "Hate blocking the street -- traffic's bad 
enough in the city without us adding to the congestion, but at least no one'll 
give us a ticket."
        They piled out of the car and headed into the club, Nick barging into 
the lead before Carmack could say anything. Alex looked at the detective and 
said, "Sorry, you know how he is." Carmack nodded briskly as they hurried to 
catch up with Nick.
        They nearly caught up with Nick when he reached the bouncer collecting 
cover charges, and did catch up when Nick was stopped by the large man.
        "Nick, wait up!" Alex said, catching the bouncer's attention.
        "Hey, wait," the large man said, straightarming the wall between Nick 
and Alex effectively cutting her off. "First, you gotta *pay* the cover charge. 
Second, you two want to bring her, you've gotta go to the Substation over on--"
        Just as Carmack was reaching for his badge, sudden realization lit the 
man's eyes. "Hey -- wait -- you're Nick Boyle, aren'tcha? I got a note for 
you..."
        Nick looked back at Alex who shrugged. "Well, then gimme the note," Nick 
said, turning back to the bouncer. As the man patted his pockets looking for the 
note, Nick got a better look at his attire. He was dressed entirely in black 
leather, with what looked like a short riding crop tucked into one of his high 
boots, and a pair of obviously professional grade handcuffs attached to a 
beltloop.
        Even as his brain tried to process this image, an even more surprising 
one hit him as two customers left the club, squeezing past the bouncer, one of 
them giggling as Nick stared at them.
        The couple was two men, one muscular and dressed in a fashion similar to 
the bouncer's.
        The other -- the one who had giggled -- was a slender, willowy creature 
in tight leather trousers and ridiculously high-heeled boots. The loose black 
tank top he wore hung low enough to reveal the ring in his right nipple and the 
chain leading downwards from it, and he wore a studded black leather collar.
        Attached to a leash.
        That the first man held the other end of...
        "Even looks like those aren't gonna get you in with *her*, Sexy," the 
collared man said to Nick.
        The other man tugged sharply on the leash and barked, "Heel!" and the 
collared man hurried after him, smiling back at Nick once before they went 
outside.
        "Hey, Boyle," the bouncer's voice intruded on his confusion. He realized 
he was gaping, shut his mouth quickly and turned back to the large man. "Your 
note," the bouncer said, shoving a folded piece of paper into his hand. "Now 
take the woman and get outta here."
        "I--" Nick said numbly, taking the note but remaining rooted to the 
spot. Alex was beginning to bristle at the treatment she was receiving, and 
didn't really notice how overwhelmed Nick seemed to be.
        Carmack frowned, realizing that neither Alex nor Nick had *any* idea 
what they were in for when they came to the Power Exchange; if he didn't get 
them back out to the car one or both of them might react in ways that could be 
-- difficult...
        "Alex, why don't you and Nick go back to the car," he encouraged, "and 
I'll join you *very* soon." He stepped aside and urged Alex and Nick past him, 
then he pulled out his badge and showed it to the bouncer.
        "Oh great," the large man muttered. "Look, there's no drugs or 
prostitution here--"
        "Yeah. I'm not here about that. I just want to know who told you about 
Mr. Boyle and gave you the note," Carmack said impatiently.
        "I don't know -- some rich guy in a suit," the bouncer said nervously. 
"He had this real attitude -- like he was better than everyone else. He told me 
about Nick Boyle -- said he was going to be coming here, described him exactly, 
and gave me the note and a fifty. I never got his name..."
        "Can you give me a description?"
        "Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, I dunno, about fiftyish?" the bouncer said 
with a shrug. "He was really intimidating though -- like I said, a real holier-
than-thou attitude. It was like dealing with regular people was beneath him -- 
sneered the whole time he was talking to me."
        "Okay, if we need it, we may call you in to either look through some 
photos or i.d. someone in a lineup."
        "Yeah, I guess," the bouncer said reluctantly.
        "Thank you," Carmack said, then he headed back out to his car and 
hurriedly climbed into the driver's seat.
        "Okay, what's in the note?" he asked, starting the car and handing Nick 
a flashlight.
        "It's just an address," Nick grumbled, "nothing else..."
        "Nick," Carmack said carefully, "Do you think Derek's gone there, or 
should we go back into the club and look for him?"
        "I --ah-- oh man," Nick said, thinking about what he'd seen. "Did you 
*know* what kind of place this is?"
        "Actually, yes, I did, but I'm not all that familiar with it." Carmack 
shrugged slightly and added, "I'm sorry. I thought *you* knew..."
        "Uh-- no," Nick said, "Not my kind of place, thank you." Then he looked 
back at the neatly printed address and frowned. "Someone described me well 
enough to the bouncer that he recognized me -- it's *gotta* be someone I've met. 
Didja get anything from the bouncer?"
        "He said the man who gave him the note was tall with dark hair and eyes, 
about 50, and had a real 'holier-than-thou' attitude. Sound like anyone you're 
familiar with?"
        Nick frowned, looked over at Alex. When she shrugged, he looked back at 
Carmack and said, "Could be any number of people -- most of the enemies we've 
dealt with who aren't actual supernatural entities seem to be pretty well 
dressed. Although why *any* of them would use a place like that as a drop is 
beyond me..." He trailed off, realizing that he *hoped* it was beyond him -- the 
only reason he could think that someone would use the club as a drop was 
something he just *didn't* want to think about.
        Alex frowned and said, "Nick, give me the paper for a minute." She 
closed her hand around the paper and took a couple of deep breaths, then closed 
her eyes and carefully opened her mind.
        Carmack nudged Nick's arm and raised his eyebrows questioningly, 
glancing at Alex. Nick raised a finger to his lips, then mouthed, "Give her a 
minute."
        Carmack nodded, then they watched as Alex's face relaxed, the frown 
smoothing away completely. Nick frowned as he saw her eyelids begin to flicker 
slightly, almost as if she were dreaming, then she gave a soft cry and her eyes 
abruptly opened.
        "Alex?" Nick asked, reaching out to grasp her shoulder, acting as an 
anchor to the physical if she should need one. "You okay?"
        She frowned and shook her head, took Nick's hand and forced the paper 
back into it. "We should go to that address," she said, her voice shaky. "I 
couldn't get anything specific, and I'm not so sure I want to... I don't know if 
I was picking up on the bouncer or on the person who wrote that, but either way 
-- ugh!" She shuddered and briskly rubbed her arms, trying to chase away the 
psychic chill that came with reading something unpleasant. "Just go there," she 
instructed Carmack.
        Nick looked at the paper again, nervousness churning his insides 
suddenly as he thought about what could have disturbed Alex so much...

To be continued in part 10

Poltergeist: The Legacy is (c) 1997 MGM/UA and Trilogy Entertainment. This story 
is not intended to infringe on these copyrights. Stolen Heaven is (c) 1997 
Penemuel