Stolen Heaven
part 5

        When Arkadi slid the second finger into him, Derek tried not to move. He 
almost succeeded until Arkadi started fucking him with the fingers, thrusting 
deeper and pulling almost all the way out again -- then he moaned again and 
thrust back, hungry ass swallowing all it could of the thick digits. It earned 
him another slap, this one slightly harder than the first. Arkadi smiled darkly 
when the reaction to the second slap was identical to the first one. _Yes, this 
will be good,_ he thought, carefully withdrawing and retrieving the plug from 
the nightstand.
        As Derek was about to ask what he was doing Arkadi slapped him again, 
this time fully across both cheeks. His question was lost in a gasp of surprise, 
and then in a moan as Arkadi repeated the action. Then he felt something 
strangely flexible yet hard probing his anus and realized Arkadi was sliding the 
plug into him. At first he thought he was going to find it disappointing, but it 
rapidly thickened from the narrow tip and when he felt it slide the rest of the 
way in he nearly cried out. Arkadi tugged gently on the base to make sure it was 
placed properly and Derek moaned helplessly, the delicious full feeling sending 
pleasure through him.
        "You like that, don't you?" Arkadi asked with a smile, already knowing 
the answer. "And now I can spank you without having to worry about my other hand 
being in the way..."
        "Spank?" Derek asked, looking back over his shoulder at the black clad 
man standing over him. The smile he got in return sent a shiver through him, 
quickly followed by warmth spreading through his body, centered in his full 
anus.
        "Or something more, if you'd like," Arkadi whispered, returning to the 
box. He pulled out a black leather implement and held it up for Derek to see. 
"This is a slapper -- its purpose is obvious from its name," he explained, 
bringing it down on the palm of his free hand. Derek gasped at the sound of 
leather hitting skin, his eyes widening in slight fear. Arkadi smiled and said, 
"I won't hit you too hard -- we'll build up from about the strength I used with 
my hand, okay?" When Derek nodded uncertainly he smiled, bringing the slapper 
down on his hand again. He wasn't about to give away the fact that the slapper 
was made in such a way that the leather body struck another piece of leather, 
lessening the blow but increasing the noise it made -- it was a nice 
psychological shock to the submissive without risking serious damage.
        "Just relax, Derek, you're going to hurt your neck if you keep watching 
me like that," Arkadi purred, walking back so that he had a better angle to 
strike on the best part of Derek's cheeks. "Just relax -- where's the fun in 
knowing when it's coming?"
        "Ohgott..." Derek breathed, relaxing again on the bed, focusing on the 
fullness in his ass. His panting had just started calming when *slap!* He cried 
out in an instinctive reaction, feeling silly almost instantly when he realized 
it hadn't really hurt.
        Arkadi swallowed hard watching Derek jerk at the first blow, but when he 
saw the muscles relax again and Derek's legs spread a little further he knew 
there was no problem. *Slap!* He brought the slapper down on the rapidly 
reddening flesh again, pleased when Derek's cry this time was a gasped moan, and 
even more the next time when Derek whispered, "More, please Sir?"
        *Slap!* Arkadi brought it down again, harder this time, a shiver running 
through him as Derek squirmed against the bed and raised his ass slightly for 
the next stroke. Arkadi paused in the rhythm, making sure Derek couldn't 
anticipate exactly when the blow would come, then *Slap!* down harder again. 
This time Derek cried out; a hoarse, lustful shout. If they kept going like 
this...
        Arkadi put the slapper down and gently stroked Derek's reddened ass, 
feeling the intense heat under his hand. Derek moaned and pressed up into his 
stroke, asked, "Why did you stop?"
        "Because if I didn't, we'd both be too far gone for the rest of it, 
lovely one," Arkadi answered, squeezing Derek's buttocks gently before he 
released him. Derek moaned again, feeling the throb of abused flesh and the 
solid presence of the butt plug, then looked up at Arkadi once more. He could 
see his lover's erection straining against his trousers, and realized how hot 
everything was making him. Arkadi saw Derek's expression and nodded. "Yes, my 
angel, I am enjoying this as much as you..."
        "So what--"
        "Roll over, Derek, it's time for your next lesson," Arkadi directed, 
cutting off his question.
        "Yes, Sir," Derek whispered, carefully complying. Every movement 
reminded him of the hard rubber object inside him, and the brush of sheets 
against his tender skin sent shivers through him. He squirmed against the sheets 
a little, feeling how sensitized his skin had become from the spanking -- until 
Arkadi saw what he was doing.
        "You are a very bad boy, Derek -- if you can't behave, I'm going to have 
to make sure you do..." For a moment, Derek wasn't sure if he had actually 
angered his lover, the slight thrill of fear hightening his arousal as Arkadi 
grabbed his wrists and held him immobile. "I already know you don't have any 
kind of claustrophobia, crawling around in burial chambers, so this shouldn't 
upset you too much." He let go of Derek with one hand and awkwardly opened one 
of the wrist restraints, then wrapped it around one of Derek's wrists and 
fastened it snugly. With one of Derek's hands restrained, Arkadi quickly 
followed with the other one and Derek was trapped, bound to the bed by the 
chained restraints and even more aroused than he had been before.
        He tugged against the restraints, testing their strength, then looked up 
at Arkadi and gasped at what he saw. His lover was eyeing him hungrily and 
trying to rearrange his rampant erection so that it wasn't so painfully 
restrained in his trousers. The lust in his eyes burned straight through Derek, 
settling in his own aching groin and flaring up like a bonfire. "Oh *gott*," 
Derek whispered, arching back against the bed and spreading his legs wide. 
"Please, Sir, don't leave me like this..."
        "Don't worry, Derek, I won't. God, you are so beautiful," Arkadi purred, 
placing a hand on Derek's chest and feeling his heart thumping wildly. He 
stroked gently over one nipple, then the other, feeling them harden instantly at 
his touch. He swallowed hard and licked his lips, looking into Derek's hungry 
gaze and nearly losing himself in it. Then, with a sly smile he pinched one of 
Derek's nipples hard, pleased when the response was not a gasp of pain but a 
surprised groan as Derek pressed up into his abusing grasp. He pinched the other 
one, twisting and pulling at both rosy buds mercilessly while Derek moaned and 
writhed.
        Suddenly he released Derek's nipples, his lover gasping in surprise at 
the sudden lack of stimuli. "You liked that, didn't you," he asked softly, 
leaning over Derek and smiling menacingly at him.
        "You know I do -- I-- Yes, Sir, I did," Derek answered, remembering 
himself just in time.
        "Would you like some more?"
        "Yes, Sir," Derek answered breathily -- his cock was really starting to 
ache and he felt like his balls were going to explode, but everything Arkadi had 
done so far felt *so* good...
        "You like when I bite them, don't you?"
        "Yes, Sir."
        "Then there's something else I think you may enjoy..." Arkadi said, then 
added with a grin, "Don't go anywhere." He retrieved the box and looked through 
it, quickly deciding the candle would be a little too much for this session -- 
there was time enough for that later. That and the little cat-of-nine-tails. 
However...
        He selected two of the more gentle clamps then closed the box and 
returned to Derek's side. "These," he said, holding the clamps up so that Derek 
could see them, "are nipple clamps. These are fairly gentle ones that shouldn't 
cause you any more pain than when I nip you, but remember that they will be on 
you continuously and might hurt more than you expected at first. If they *do* 
hurt you, tell me and we'll take them off. You understand?"
        Derek nodded, too curious and aroused to really expect they would hurt 
-- his body ached for more, and the only thing that hurt right now was not 
getting it. "Yes, Sir," he whispered, smiling when Arkadi climbed up on the bed 
and straddled him. This close, he could feel the heat pouring off his lover, 
smell the musk of his arousal mingled with the cinnamon spice scent of his 
cologne, see the hunger burning in the depths of his dark eyes...
        Arkadi groaned softly as Derek moved under him, nearly losing his 
concentration again as he felt his young lover's heat burning against his 
thighs. _Soon,_ he thought to himself. _When he's good and crazed..._
        He pinched one nipple gently, pulling the flesh up so that the clamp 
would be holding more than just the rosy tip, then carefully slid the clamp on 
and slowly released it, watching Derek's reaction. For a moment, he thought that 
Derek wasn't going to like it, but gradually the hungry look returned and he saw 
Derek flex his muscles in an attempt to feel the clamp pull.
        "Is that what you want, Derek?" Arkadi asked softly, pulling gently on 
the clamp until Derek gasped and arched up into him. "Yes, I guess it must be," 
he answered himself with a chuckle. "Then let's put the other one on, too."
        As Arkadi carefully applied the other clamp, Derek tried -- and failed 
-- to remain still. Everything just felt so good, lust and arousal burning his 
body and mind to ashes. He arched back as Arkadi twisted both clamps, moaning 
helplessly under the assault.
        Derek could feel the change in Arkadi -- the cool control was eroding 
quickly now, destroyed by his complete surrender. His lover climbed off the bed 
and grabbed the box, took an item out of it. "I'm going to attach the two clamps 
to each other, Derek," Arkadi explained breathlessly. "That way they'll pull 
more while we're doing other things." He smiled down at Derek and ran a length 
of leather thong through the handles of the clamps, then tied the ends together 
so that it was *just* tight enough to pull slightly.
        Derek moaned at the sensation, nearly incoherent from all of the 
stimuli. Arching back into the pillows, he missed Arkadi unfastening his 
trousers and freeing his aching erection. When his lover climbed onto the bed 
again, however, Derek looked at him hungrily, nearly mesmerised by the thick 
cock already wet with precum. "Ooohgott..." Derek whispered as he realized 
Arkadi was crawling closer so that he could fuck his mouth.
        "You want it, don't you, my beautiful one?" Arkadi purred, moving 
carefully to straddle his lover, cock tantalizingly close to his lips as he 
looked down at Derek's own engorged organ. Derek lifted his head and reached for 
Arkadi's cock, desperate to taste it -- to feel his lover taking complete 
control of him. 
        Derek's lips touched the tip and Arkadi groaned deep in his throat. 
Unable to control himself any longer, he thrust down Derek's throat; lust and 
pleasure burning along his nerves as Derek eagerly accommodated him.
        He began fucking Derek's mouth roughly, enjoying the hungry moans and 
eager sucking. Derek groaned around the thick cock as Arkadi's body leaned on 
the thong between the nipple clamps, and Arkadi chuckled and turned his 
attention to Derek's straining organ.
        He swallowed Derek's cock, sucking hard, knowing that by now his lover 
was so aroused -- so eager -- that nothing would register as painful. The 
circuit of pleasure now complete, they writhed in a frenzy of fucking and 
sucking; shudders of ecstacy coursing through Derek with every movement of the 
clamps, every shift of the butt plug.
        It built rapidly, boiling up from deep inside with the force of a 
geyser. Orgasm hit them simultaneously: Arkadi thrusting brutally down Derek's 
throat, cutting off the scream Derek's own explosion tore from him. It seemed to 
go on forever, nearly painful with the constriction of the cock strap, but 
gloriously intense. As the spasms finally diminished to shudders, Derek slid 
into unconsciousness...

        ...Derek shot awake, scattering the journal, letter, and photos that 
were spread across his bed. He could feel the sticky wetness on his pajamas and 
thighs, and flushed crimson as he realized his body had betrayed him yet again.
        Had he screamed upon waking this time? He couldn't remember, but his 
throat didn't feel raw -- with luck, none of the others would come running to 
see if he was all right. He looked at the clock and realized he had been asleep 
for only a short time -- the others might still be awake. First he would clean 
up, and then, he decided, gathering up the scattered items and putting the 
photos back in the envelope with the letter, he would have a talk with Sloan...
                                   --==**==--
A legacy, so far removed
One day will be improved
Eternal rights beleft behind,
We were the better kind
You this day met free too,
I always looked to you
I always looked to you
I always looked to you.
                --Joy Division, "A Means to an End"

        After a quick shower and a change into a clean pair of pajamas, Derek 
donned his robe and left his bedroom. None of the others seemed to be up and 
about, but he knew Sloan would probably be awake for a little while longer. He 
walked to the control room, figuring the Legacy leader would be in there, 
working.
        Once through the hologram, he could see Sloan sitting at one of the 
computer consoles, reading something on a screen. At his approach, however, 
Sloan turned to face him, smiling when he saw who it was.
        "Derek, are you all right?" he asked quietly. Derek arched one eyebrow, 
recognizing that tone.
        "No, William," he answered truthfully, "Actually I am *not* all right. 
Is anyone else awake?"
        "Not that I know of -- they all went up to bed pretty early -- although 
Philip might be researching. I think we need to talk: just *when* were you going 
to tell me about Azazel's having a chance to kill you? And you said this 
happened *twice*?" Sloan asked, his tone becoming increasingly annoyed.
        "I have a better question, William," Derek said, pulling the envelope 
out of his pocket and thrusting it in Sloan's face. "When were *you* planning on 
warning *me* about the danger I was in?"
        His question stopped Sloan dead in his tracks and the older man looked 
down at the envelope with confusion. "Danger? What?" He took the envelope when 
Derek maintained his stony silence, looking first at the address and then 
opening it and sliding the contents out. A moment later, Derek saw the colour 
rise in his face and he knew Sloan recognized what it was.
        "You *are* the one who hid this in my father's journal, aren't you?" 
Derek asked as Sloan looked through the photos, his expression becoming 
unreadable.
        "Yes, I am. I'd...forgotten about these," Sloan answered, looking back 
up at Derek and meeting his angry gaze steadily. "Derek, this happened while you 
were a young man of legal age. You weren't a member of the Legacy -- as a matter 
of fact, you'd done everything you could to distance yourself from it as much as 
possible. It wasn't Legacy business."
        "Wasn't -- Legacy *business*?! William, you *knew* the Arkadi family was 
one of the Legacy's enemies -- if you read this letter, you knew he was trying 
to use me against the Legacy -- how could you say it wasn't Legacy business? And 
if you could still justify that, why didn't you try to help *me*?" Derek asked.
        "You were angry and blamed the Legacy for your father's death, Derek. 
Would you have listened to a warning, or just ignored it as more meddling in 
your life by people you didn't like?" Sloan asked softly, realizing that Derek 
was more hurt than angry -- and that not all of the hurt came from the Legacy's 
lack of involvement. "Your father was already dead, so Arkadi's gloating didn't 
affect him. We even thought perhaps you might be able to make *him* change..."
        "And if he had succeeded in using my talent to find artifacts he could 
use against the Legacy, would you have gotten involved then? Would it have been 
worth meddling then, or would you have just written me off?"
        "Derek, I'm sorry. I really am -- it just wasn't our place to do 
anything about it," Sloan said softly, putting the photos and letter away again. 
"Come on, sit down," he added, pulling another chair over for Derek. "Would you 
*truly* have listened to us?"
        They both sat and Derek looked down, finally answering, "No, I most 
likely wouldn't have -- not at first, anyway."
        "I really am sorry, Derek," Sloan repeated, intending to return to his 
previous line of questioning now that Derek had calmed, but he saw Derek reading 
the screen he knew he should have cleared.
        "What is that, William?" Derek asked, his tone one of annoyance and 
rising suspicion. "It looks like a genealogy..."
        "Ah--" Sloan hedged awkwardly. _Stupid, Sloan, really stupid!_ he 
berated himself as the look in Derek's eyes darkened further.
        "Too many things have been coming back to haunt me all of a sudden, and 
I am beginning to feel that they are not unrelated after all. Now what *is* 
that, William?" Derek repeated, anger intensifying his accent.
        "It's interesting that you chose the term 'unrelated'," Sloan began, 
deciding he would do better to just ignore Derek's anger.
        "And what do you mean by that?" Derek prodded, wishing he could turn 
away the cold dread that gripped his heart.
        "You know that the person who killed Lucas Rayne's wife was a member of 
the Arkadi family," Sloan began, already knowing the answer. When Derek nodded 
slowly, he continued, "And you know that your family in particular has had 
repeated encounters with them which sometimes were far more personal than the 
Legacy's trouble with them?"
        Derek frowned and looked Sloan in the eyes, then asked, "You have to ask 
*me* that question?"
        "Sorry, Derek," Sloan said again, knowing he had hit a nerve -- and that 
part of him had intended it. Derek nodded briefly and looked at him expectantly. 
"Well, I've been researching some old records, and -- hell, Derek, your families 
are related," he finally blurted, relieved when he finally said it. It wasn't 
fair to play games with Derek about things like this, he knew, but it had become 
such a habit...
        Derek stared at him, his expression suddenly unreadable. "Related," he 
said flatly. "This isn't funny, William. Not funny at *all*."
        "I'm not joking," Sloan said, all trace of humour gone from his tone and 
expression. "Here, look for yourself." He keyed in some commands and the 
genealogy was displayed on the large screen. "The links will take you to the 
pertinent records in the archive -- all of this information has been carefully 
researched, Derek. I'm sorry -- we weren't about to take any of this as gospel 
without careful double-checking."
        Derek looked briefly at the family tree displayed on the screen, seeing 
the offshoots and branches that led to places he didn't want to think about; 
then turned back to Sloan and shook his head slowly. "I don't need to look at 
it. I trust you -- and it...explains a few things."
        He shook his head again, the cold dread now squeezing his heart and the 
rest of his insides, constricting his chest -- it explained a *lot*... "I-- 
verdomme!" he muttered, lapsing into his native language. Sloan gently touched 
his arm, and after a moment or two he calmed, knowing there was nothing he could 
do to change the situation. He looked at the screen again and said, "At least it 
doesn't seem to have happened recently..."
        "No," Sloan agreed, "the closest relation would be distant cousins, many 
times removed."
        "Good," Derek said stiffly, then asked, "Do *they* know?"
        "I'm not sure -- although I would expect them to use the information 
somehow if they did," Sloan answered. "I don't know."
        "So, is there anything *else* I should know about myself, William?" 
Derek asked with an edge to his tone.
        "Not that I know," Sloan answered, knowing that Derek had every right to 
be upset. It was a hell of a lot to find out all at once...
        "Great. Then I'll see if I can get any sleep tonight, and I will see you 
in the morning."

        Sleep was as hard to attain as Derek had suspected it would be. When it 
did come, it was filled with dreams of disturbing visions: nothing as simple to 
explain away as the erotic dreams of his past, but dark things filled with 
images of beating wings and grasping hands; unholy light gleaming from the 
sepulchres he'd hidden away in the basement vault, hoping they wouldn't bother 
his team again; music swirling around him, pulling at him, filling him with a 
pleasure he knew had little to do with the heavenly choir it sounded like...
        ...The angels had just winged their way past him, the breeze of their 
passing like the heated breath of a lover on his cold skin. They were creatures 
of great beauty, but not the holy angels as he imagined them. Instead, they were 
darker somehow, expressions of lasciviousness and wanton hunger burning in their 
perfect faces. Now he could hear them singing, but couldn't understand the words 
-- only that they wanted him to follow. He took a step, knowing that he 
shouldn't but unable to stop himself, then another, and another; suddenly he was 
falling as the land dropped away below him. In the darkness that suddenly 
swallowed him, he could hear a velvet voice calling to him -- a voice that he 
had once ached to hear, that had made his heart sing whenever it was speaking of 
or to him. As the wind shrieked past his ears with the speed of his descent, 
Victor Arkadi's voice reached inside him, deep into his mind, and told him, 
"Fly, Derek! Fly and free yourself from the chains they have put on you!"
        For an instant he tried to deny it, to shake his head and scream "No!" 
but nothing would come out. He had no desire to die -- there was still so much 
to do... He clung to the voice inside him as if it could hold him up by its 
strength alone. Suddenly there was a great tearing pain in his back, his 
shoulders, wrenching an agonized scream from his throat -- and suddenly he was 
no longer falling. Instead, the wind of the chasm buoyed him up, tickling the 
feathers of his wings.
        Flying -- he was flying! The pleasure of it was unbelievable -- the wind 
caressing him and tickling him; flowing under his wings in a manner that he 
suddenly realized was as intimate as a lover's touch... 
        A shadow swept over him then and he looked up to see another figure fly 
past, a strong male body with tanned skin and dark hair; then he caught a 
glimpse of his own wings, beating against the wind already as he tried to catch 
up with the other figure. Wings with feathers as black as the darkest pits of 
hell...
         ..."NO!" he screamed, waking drenched in a cold sweat and shivering 
violently as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. His bed was a 
wreck, pillows scattered and sheets twisted about him, some of the items on the 
nightstand overturned with the severity of his thrashing. He sat in his bed 
trying to slow his thundering pulse, afraid to look behind himself or in a 
mirror in case it had been more than a dream. His body finally ceased its 
violent shaking at about the same time there was a soft knock on the door. "Who 
is it?" he called unsteadily.
        "Derek, it's Philip. I heard y'call out -- are y'hurt?" Philip's voice 
came through the thick door.
        "No, Philip, I'm fine," he answered, slowly getting to his feet. He'd 
have to let Philip in, or the man would wake the others...
        "Are y'sure?" Philip was asking as he opened the door. When the priest 
saw the wild-eyed expression he shook his head. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Derek, 
y'must've had a *terrible* nightmare...let me come in f'r a bit -- you shouldn' 
be alone right now."
        Derek nodded, realizing the shaking was returning and recognizing it as 
the body's reaction after an intense burst of adrenaline wore off. Within a 
moment, he was shivering as Philip helped him back to his bed.
        Philip wanted to ask him about his nightmare, but refrained from doing 
so -- if Derek wanted to tell him, he would. Instead he bundled his friend back 
into his bed, straightening the sheets and comforter and plumping Derek's 
pillows for him, tucking him in as he would a child. He sat down beside Derek 
and stroked his hair, murmuring soothing words. Gradually the shivers diminished 
and Derek began to drift off again. The last thing he said to Philip before he 
fell asleep confused the priest completely, but Philip was loathe to wake him 
again after he seemed to be calm...
        _What on earth did y'mean by 'I would have fallen either way,' Derek? 
Dear God in Heaven, what was your nightmare about?_ Philip thought, continuing 
to stroke his hair and watch him sleep.
                                   --==**==--
To be continued in part 6

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