Go Straight to Hell, Boy - part 4/17	          [Home | Quicksearch |
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  Go Straight to Hell, Boy - part 4/17 by Ralu	

 Now: a moment to analyze Vernon Schillinger's pattern of thinking.

 Sure, it is obvious Keller's not exactly prag material, not anymore - too
fucking old for that - but was he ever? 

 Schillinger sees the entire idea of pragging someone as imposing, forcing
himself on someone who naturally doesn't want that, never would even
conceive it, that's the beauty of it all. You fuck someone who doesn't
wanna be fucked, you humiliate someone you know feels that humiliation
deeply, eating away at his soul, changing him completely...

 That's the real *brand* Schillinger leaves behind. 

 Cutting through his prag like a hot knife through butter, leaving nothing
as it used to be, imposing his mark, his Schillinger-Vision on that
certain someone. Nobody walks away intact, unchanged, after meeting the
man...and Beecher, even if that little bitch had fucked him over pretty
seriously, was an example of the morphing power Vern had over people.

 His strength spilled over onto everybody else, giving the A.B. the
self-confidence it needed to survive and keep intact that belief of theirs
in...*whatever* Schillinger kept telling them,

 (most of those idiots would be throwing themselves nose-first into the
first tits they saw, without Vern's watchful eye on them)

 and breaking down any shred of opposition coming from any of his prags.
Or fuelling that rage one might need to survive after being dumped on his
sorry-ass by Oz's own personal Fuhrer, for everybody to scavenge on his
already broken corpse... Whatever it was, the man was powerful and
dangerous, everybody knew that - it was a God-given fact!

 But you can't just lay back and expect for that to last forever,
*nothing* lasts forever...thus, the pragging. 

 'Cause it's not like the Big White Man needs to get off, nooo...It's not
like he needs to get some kind of a sexual release from fucking another
man...No.

 Pragging someone (along with the sexual favors that come with it) is all
about power - showing you're still the king of the castle , lord of the
manor and all that shit...and you prag someone who's not a fag, in the
first place.

 No joy in *making* a cocksucker suck your cock...makes no sense. No
logic. No jizz there, that's for sure.

 So, where does that leave Keller? The bitch used to be soooo good at
that, *all that*, Schillinger suspected even from the beginning, way
before actually finding out from *authorised* sources, that Chris was no
prag material, let along A.B. material...

 And what a mess that particular indiscretion left behind for
Christopher...after trying so hard to cover it up, to avoid having the
whole thing ever surfacing...that, that particular moment was worth it, a
perfect opportunity to show that bitch that *Vern* was the one running the
show, holding the leash...he was the one doing the 'dumping' part.

 (--'Ha! Like Keller would have ever thought of dumping you, Vern, like he
ever could've... Get a fucking grip here and stop spitting out lame
reasonings, get to the *real* motives.'--)

 Never interested in the ideology, no true passion whatsoever, hanging out
- when he thought Vern didn't notice - with fucking everybody(!): from
fags to drug dealers, Jews and yeah! Even some almost-white nigger Keller
liked exchanging magazines with...and then going all innocent, like: 'Hey,
man, I wasn't *exactly* talking to the guy...'

 The whole A.B. giving Vern that ugly squint, that 'check your prag once
in a while, Vernon, the bitch's starting to grow fucking balls'. And
Keller acting all kid-like, wide-eyed, that 'Who? Me?!...' expression on
his face - like the fucking prick didn't even know what was going on! But
he knew, and whether it was something he was doing on purpose, or just
simply reacting like any street-raised stupid white kid with absolutely no
interest whatsoever in *The Big Racial War* Vern kept talking about (not
an A.B. bone in his entire body, if Vern were to be honest about it - the
kid just didn't have it in him), the whole thing only proved the fact that
the bitch just couldn't help himself...

 An itch - deep inside Keller, something he had to be aware of.

 (Shit! It got him into a lot of trouble, it got him getting punched in
the stomach every once in a while, he must have been aware of it!)

 Something that (possibly) he could not control.

 (Or maybe didn't want to - that being his last shred of fucking
dignity...if the bitch had any in the first place, ever.)

 Something that made him shiver once in a while, his whole body like a
volcano waiting to explode, some kind of a humming noise vibrating through
his every muscle; eyes all dark, bigger, *freaky* (that's how Vern saw
them, anyway). A burning desire to just break away, to just disappear. To
just blow the fuck up, like an A bomb or something, and take everybody
away with him for the ride - just for the fuck of it! Barely perceptible:
hate. Pulsating through his whole being.

 ('Cause nobody wants, nobody likes, nobody...-- what, *needs*?! Needing
and liking are NOT one and the same, not even needing and wanting...-- to
be *that* with anybody, *for* anybody, for Schillinger...Not even Chris.
Especially Chris.)

 And that was probably just as true as any other thing about Christopher
Keller, the man who knows how to fake everything so fucking well, he
himself finds it hard sometimes to *remember* who he really is...not to
mention the haze everybody else find themselves groping through, blinded,
completely dumbfounded.

 Always pushing, just a little. A small push to Schillinger's shove, a
slightly raised eyebrow, an almost invisible mocking twist of the corner
of his mouth. Allowing himself to *move* around like he wasn't really
someone else's entirely, just some whore you pay and fuck - no
*commitment* whatsoever, always seeming on the edge of...putting out for
anybody who would give him anything. Strutting around like he owned the
fucking place, strutting around like a free-licensed whore, no pimp
required.

 (And, secretly, Vern admired...no, better said - *enjoyed* that, like
watching a freak of nature...like watching Tobias Beecher, a fuck of a lot
of years later, and for markedly different reasons.)

 And probably/definitely that was Chris' strategy all the time, applying
it with Schillinger just to get and keep him *interested*. (that, and the
sex, of course) Like he almost wanted Vern to get really pissed and angry,
demanding punishment, that half-joke/half-insult tone of his voice making
its way into Schillinger's brain like a whip, forcing him to respond the
only way he knew how. Beating the shit out of him, snapping at him hard
and quick, and then watching - more horny than annoyed,

 (blood shooting up even faster than during the punishment, filling up his
brain 'til it hurt, making his cock practically INFLAMED with expectation)

 as Keller - that *freak* - would crawl on the floor on his arms and legs
towards him, like a fucking cat, his whole body shivering, tension barely
kept locked behind his blue eyes, lowered in submission,

 (And yes, hate too, but Keller seemed to hide that better than anything
else.)

 spitting blood through those bruised wicked lips of his...smiling,
SMILING! Like the whole thing was one big fucking joke or something!

 But Schillinger learned quickly that that stupid *grin* of his was only a
sign of nervousness, of pain, of fear, an automatic reaction to any kind
of pressure, something that gave away his attempt to keep things (and
himself) under some kind of control.

 And after that, Schillinger knew he was gonna have himself an amazing
*blowjob delivery*, like the beating somehow would make Keller...*Made*
Keller. Yeah!...

 It felt almost like a private dance went on between the two of them -
Keller needing abuse, pushing Schillinger enough to receive it, to make
the other man respond, and then putting out, doing his very best to make
it up to Vern for crossing him...or letting Schillinger think he still had
to *force* Keller to put out by beating him. 'Cause that's what you do
with a prag, and things would be way too boring and...(--faggy?!), if
Keller would actually put out like a girl, without previous fist-fuelled
persuasion, once in a while, or just the usual bully attitude Vern loved
(always had, always will) to display...

 A very twisted *tango* in-fucking-deed! 

 But everything turned into shit, 'cause the thing Schillinger expects
from the people surrounding him, the one thing, above all, is obedience.
An acknowledgement of their own status, and the act of profoundly assuming
that status. The man being such a control-freak and all...

 (--'But, deep down, do you really want that? Or do you think you want
that 'cause it's a whole lot easier, and the whole idea carries with it
assurance and power? Stability?'--)

 And that's what both Beecher and Keller failed to show him, some goddamn
motherfucking OBEDIENCE!

 It ain't that fucking hard, you're given the rules, clear and easy to
understand, (though not that fair and not that easy to follow) and
specific limitations - a couple of things one should never forget. And all
you gotta do is *know your fucking place* and stay there! And both his
ex-prags failed miserably at that particular requirement.

 Schillinger always suspected the reason behind Beecher's indiscipline had
something more to do with his addictive personality than an unconscious
need to continually defy his owner, breaking the fucking rules... And this
belief came from the fact that he saw Beecher's drug abuse as the main
obstacle in turning him into the picture-perfect prag...thus, *ignoring*
(deliberately) the real issue - Beecher's seemingly endless capacity to
*keep himself*, the parts of himself that really mattered - only to
himself. (Until Keller, that is.)

 Therefore - looking at it from this perspective - it would seem like
Vern's the one who miserably failed at *getting* to his prag, at really
owning the man...not exactly the kind of thing Schillinger would admit to.

 But maybe what Schillinger did was simply to fuck a guy who didn't wanna
be fucked, brand him, toy with him 'til the poor thing couldn't cope with
it any other way than to get stoned up to his eyeballs, before getting
bored and tossing him aside, like a broken puppet...once he had gotten
everything he wanted; (or talked himself into thinking he wanted) once he
had squeezed the last drop of dignity out of the man he'd pragged.

 Something he *failed* to realize was not true at all. With Beecher.

 Keller, on the other hand, was a different story. 

 Schillinger always felt like the whole *Keller business* could not even
be labeled as 'pragging', not because there was no humiliation included,
or rape.

 (Or - better said - something *resembling* rape, Keller was always so
cunning you never really knew whether or not you were being played big
time, you know - steered around by your dick.)

 Because it left a sour taste in his mouth - even when he was fucking the
slut - some kind of a feeling of not really getting anything *important*,
anything that mattered to Schillinger, and especially to Keller.

 Beecher's loathing, his repulsion, his fear always seemed genuine, the
shock, the wide-eyed *this-isn't-happening-to-me* feeling was there, at
least at the beginning, in full-force...and Schillinger *lived* for it,
adored every moment of it.

 All that seemed like a cheap trick with Keller, and when Vernon finally
realized (or told himself it was so) that all of it was just an *act*,
meant to keep the appearance of what a prag is supposed to be in the first
place...well, he discovered with some kind of a pleased perverse surprise
that he enjoyed this act...

 He liked the kid because he was smart enough, experienced enough to pull
this kind of a stunt on him, but, at the same time, discovered also that
that sour taste in his mouth came exactly from that. Sure, he was pissed -
he was being played by a fucking 17-year old, but that wasn't all...

 Because Vern (as Keller already had guessed) doesn't get any pleasure
from catching prey that never had any *intention* of running away in the
first place.

 You don't get to *break* something that is already broken.

 And finally finding out *all* the indictments that had landed
Christopher's ass in Lardner (something that the young man had tried so
carefully not to reveal) proved to be the fucking cherry on the goddamn
cake...

 'Bye-bye' A.B.; 'bye-bye' sucking Vern's cock for a living, 'hello'
sucking *everybody* else's!... Thank God (for Keller) it all happened
close enough to his own personal 'bye-bye' Lardner.

 That was the problem with Chris: if it hadn't been Vern, it would have
been somebody else, anybody else. 

 And that's the *real* downer. The sour taste. For Schillinger. And
probably for Keller, too.

 ---end of part 4/17---  Please send feedback to Ralu.