Foxes In A Hen House, tag: Leopold

[DIRK DIEDERICH]

LIGHT ME UP WHEN I'M DOWN I DON'T THINK I CAN BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN ME It'd been a long night. A good fucking night. A much needed night. This week in general had been a busy week. Dirk often left the professional, official business up to the last second--who knew it was so hard to own an illegal club? Dirk had figured it'd just be something he put up, and if it stuck, it stuck, if it didn't, no harm, no fowl. But apparently, no matter how illegal your club was, there was still a certain amount of hoops you had to jump through. A certain amount of paperwork you still have to complete. He tried to imagine tattooed thugs filling out these tax sheets for their whorehouses. Somehow, the image wasn't coming to him. And so he didn't really take it all that seriously. If he wanted to be a business man, he'd be a business man. He just wanted to open up a place where people could hit each other, was that so much to ask? Well. Either way, that pile of paperwork that had been mounting in his office finally came to a head this week, and he'd spent days filing through it, whittling the large stack of papers down to nothing. It's been tedious work. Grueling work. And he hadn't had much time to get out of the office, save to scout the place, make sure everyone was keeping in line. But "playtime" have been saved pretty regularly for home. He hadn't had much of a chance to let loose on April. Until tonight. Tonight, he finally got his shit together, and celebrated in the only way he knew how. He latched the little bitch onto the spider web of chains so her wrists and ankles were clamped down, legs spread, arms pulled across. Naked body flat up against the chains. He gave her a few lashes with his whip--just to let off some steam and remind her what blood tasted like--and when she had a nice line of marks crisscrossing down her back, he went in for the kill. He liked being close to her--not particularly because it was intimate, though it was always rewarding to get that hitch in her breath--but because from here he could really drink in her subtle reactions, her small whimpers and sniffles that made the power high curl up through his veins. Here, he was able to get right up and hit her with the flat of his hand, spank her red ass or her burning cunt, get his teeth in her soft skin, growl in ear, telling her what a bitch she was, was a desperate fucking useless thing, and she'd whimper and sob through her responses. It was always like this, up against her, that he completely forgot everyone else in the room. He wasn't "Dirk the club owner", he wasn't even "Dirk the sadist". He was just one man destroying his stupid little slut. And then he took out his own personal favorite--a knife he kept with him at all times when he was stalking around Something Grimm. By now, she was already trembling all over, which didn't bode well for any clean cut. She shivered under the cold flat of his knife caressing her skin, and--finally--Dirk got that break--the knife terrified her. Granted, she had good reason to--he would push her past the point of no return with it in the days he hadn't been so sober. Part of the reason it was one of his favorites. She began sobbing, crumbling up against the chains, begging, pleading---which is about when any good dom would know she'd had enough, and stop. Instead, he broke her skin under it. Her short scream was all he needed...and then nothing. Back in the day, this would've been when she shouted Red!. Now, she'd basically given up on the safe world. She let him push her until she passed out. She was his. Completely. Dirk finally sheathed his knife and unlocked the chains that bound her. She all but collapsed against him, sniffling, trembling. A small, pitiful, broken little girl. But she was content. He knew that. Anyone else--anyone who wasn't a deviant--would have scowled in disgust. Abuse, they would have called it. Stockholm Syndrome. But he knew it, in the pitiful way she said, "Thank you, Master". She always needed this as much as he did. Not that that was much of a concern to him--he would've taken it anyway. But now, she was tired and worn. She wanted someone to hold her, to snuggle. Dirk, meanwhile, had dragon fire climbing his blood. He tell about ten feel tall and just as powerful. He felt like he could destroy fucking cities right now. He was still riding his own high--snuggling wasn't exactly his MO. "Clean this mess you made and go tot he aftercare room," he demanded, motioning to the whip and knife he'd used. It was standard for her to clean the blood off his toys before she did anything else. She gave a small nod and a Yes, Master, but before she could slip off, he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her against him. Claiming her mouth in his. She yielded so beautifully then--she would give him anything. He tasted her, and he could practically feel the ache in her kiss. It was delicious. He sealed it off, then gave her ass a quick smack and said, "Go." With that, she scurried off to do her duties before dragging her broken body tot he aftercare room. Dirk glanced around then. Finally pulling himself out of the scene and settling back into the settling of the room. There were two others playing in this room--one woman hitting her slut senseless, another man letting his mistress walk all over him. And another--two eyes begging out from the cage in the corner. There were chairs set up, for those who preferred to sit back and watch for a moment. Dirk himself had settled into those chairs from time to time, when he just needed to bleed the demon in him briefly, but he'd always been much more of a doer than a watching. But there was a familiar face on the benches tonight. At least, vaguely familiar. He'd seen the boy hanging around Annaliese, keeping her close like a little kid with a security blanket. Annaliese Dirk was already more or less familiar with--and he liked the woman, despite himself. She carried herself well, with a "don't fuck with me" air about her. Which meant, of course, that Dirk had to fuck with her. But it was more of a playful taunting between them than anything else, and she took it (and gave it) like a sport. Naturally, this meant Dirk would have to break her brother in. So far, he hadn't seen the boy himself get any play in (not that Dirk had eyes all over the place...it's possible he'd just missed him). Instead, he seemed to act like Annaliese's chaperone, watching her like a hawk. But there was something else in the boy that got under Dirk's skin. Something in the way he turned away from people, roamed around like a lone wolf, avoiding most any direct contact, with those eyes that told you he'd get defensive at even the slightest spark. And he was all of--what--twenty years old? Not much older than his own daughter. But she wasn't who Dirk was thinking right now. It was himself. Or rather, who he'd been around Leo's age. Dirk had let his OCD get the better of him back then. He'd shied away from human contact, though he had hungered for it, hadn't he? That'd been what had attracted him so deeply to little Lily Hunt in the first place. She'd been the only one to connect with him on that level--but even then. She didn't understand. How could she? How could she know what it was like to feel that humiliating, burning fear coarse through you, halfway through math class, because you're wondering whether or not you locked the door on the way out (even though you know you did) and now all you can think about is how someone got in your house and robbed you blind and killed your father and--before you know it, you've quickly excuse yourself from class and you're racing home to lock all the doors and the windows and anything you can reach until your father comes home and gently draws you back down to earth. It wasn't a period of Dirk's life he generally liked to dwell on. But it was in this boy's eyes--that quick defense. No one understands me. And maybe the right thing would've been for Dirk to go over, put his hand on the boy's shoulder, and have said, Hey, I understand. But instead, Dirk felt a restless anger inside of him. Against the pathetic boy he'd been--the boy who let his sickness dominate him and control his every move. And now? Well. There was no way he wasn't approaching the young Wettin boy. Dirk moved over to the chairs, plopping himself down in the one beside Leo. "Leo, isn't it? Do you mind?" But he wasn't asking permission. He didn't even wait for the boy to answer. Yes, he was coasting his don high nicely. He flashed the boy a smirk. "Enjoy what you saw? I didn't take a Wettin for a passive party. Tell me...how does this work? Are you Annaliese's bitch boy, or is it the other way around? I've only ever seen her break every man she touches." THIS POST IS TAGGED FOR LEOPOLD, AND IS 1,609 WORDS LONG. OH, AND I WANTED YOU TO KNOW I RAMBLE A SHIT TON.. TEMPLATE BY ASHOO ! OF CAUTION 2.0

[LEOPOLD WETTIN]

Are you coming to the moment when you know your heart can break I'm inside you I'm around you just wanna hear you cry again I don't know why why but I love to see you cry - - - -

Leopold felt nothing as he made his way into Somewhere Grimm.

His entire body was dead, was numb...cold. For an entire week Leopold had been locked in his room, only ever letting Annaliese in twice to talk to him. She'd tried to coerce him into going out for dinner but Leopold had refused. He'd taken scalding baths trying to get his body to wake up. He'd taken snorts of cocaine every time he felt it was safe to do again without overdosing. Knives. He'd cut himself. Nothing. He felt...nothing. He'd gone into work the Friday before and stared at a group of employees as they'd had a birthday for someone new and said new person had invited him over because, 'you're the boss and you should cut the cake'. Leopold had...and he'd cut himself too. The employees who knew had all ignored the cut, had averted their eyes but the new girl...she'd touched him, tried to get him a band aid.

Leopold had nearly hit her for touching him.

Instead he'd just grabbed her wrist and told her to stop. He'd hurt the girl and she'd whimpered, suddenly afraid and...he'd ruined it. Ruined it all. Now his employees hated him even more and it had ripped into Leopold like a jagged knife, seeing their eyes filled with fear. The deviant was going to hurt them. Leopold had wanted to tighten his grip on the girl's wrist, maybe even break it but he'd had restraint and stopped himself, had all but fled from the group of people. He'd gone home, snorted coke and had made little patterns in his skin with a razor. His legs had healed thankfully, but Leopold had lost all feeling after that day.

He didn't know if he'd get it back.

The moment he went in, eyes settled on Leopold, except this time there was no fear; usually Leopold's spirits would have risen but tonight...not not tonight. These people...they...weren't afraid of him. He saw a couple faces he vaguely knew, men and women he had hurt until they'd been gasping their safe words because Leopold always told them to be quiet. Their eyes got dark when he looked at him and he saw one woman's nipples harden beneath her shirt.

Leopold turned away, not even caring that she flushed in embarrassment from the rejection.

Maybe...maybe seeing someone else hurting, seeing other people caught up pain would help him. Leopold made his way downstairs, eyes ahead, feet almost shuffling as he moved. In the basement he found Dirk, a man Annaliese toyed with, fought against. When Leopold had first met him he'd wanted to kill the man, see if the man was still so arrogant when he couldn't breath, but Annaliese had explained that Dirk was okay. There was still the underlying desire to hurt the man, to see if he screamed, if he understood like his...woman seemed to. She was writhing against the web of chains on one wall. Dirk was behind her, hand coming down on her bare ass with hollow cracks. She whimpered, made little noises every time he did it and Leopold took a breath, cocked his head. The woman almost understood. The pain made her sob, made her shake and it was...almost real.

It wasn't until Dirk brought out his knife that Leopold sat down, his breath catching in his throat. The woman - Leopold had never bothered to learn her name - screamed and writhed, bucked against her bounds but never uttered a word that stopped him - he didn't know that Dirk wouldn't have stopped anyway. He could see dark liquid trickle down her bare back and Leopold took another small breath, his heart skipping a beat. Yes...yes this...this was it. He had to see it, had to wallow in it. Some dominants wanted to hear their submissives scream, but Leopold appreciated her tiny noises far more. It meant that she was being truthful. She could do nothing but whimper, nothing but mumble. The woman was satiated.

Leopold didn't move from his spot as he watched their scene end, saw Dirk mutter to the woman until she nodded and hurried away after a slap to the ass. He didn't even move when Dirk came over to him, the arrogant swagger of a dominant in his movements. Dirk asked if Leopold minded him sitting but Leopold didn't respond, just stared at him as Dirk sat anyway; Leopold didn't care, he had never been much for courtesy and manners.

"Does she understand?" Leopold murmured, his voice hoarse as he spoke. He wasn't obviously aroused but he shifted anyway, turned toward Dirk, leaned in. "Does she? When you make her beg, is she alive? Are you?" It was the first time Leopold had really gotten a chance to ask another dom this question. He licked his lips, frowned, muttered to himself a bit before shaking his head. "I'm not a man. I'm her brother. I love her." The fierceness behind his eyes showed that Leopold meant it, and meant it not only in the kindest way possible, but also in the most carnal.

Leopold's head was buzzing as he shifted in his seat again, moved closer to Dirk. He wanted to wrap his fingers around the man's throat; Leopold's fingers twitched up a bit, curling in the air as he stared at the man before him. "She breaks men because they deserve it. I like to watch her hurt them. She lets me help sometimes...I would never hurt her." Leopold didn't see choking Annaliese or slapping her as hurting her; she'd never told him to stop, even allowed it. Something of a smile, a vacant, faraway smile came to Leopold's lips. "I wonder if you'd break...if she'd make you scream."

Just the thought made Leopold shudder visibly.

Words: 978 - Credit: stalk me redneck! - Tag: dirk/cary

[DIRK DIEDERICH]

LIGHT ME UP WHEN I'M DOWN I DON'T THINK I CAN BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN ME Right off the bat, there was something, well. Wrong with the boy. There was a certain degree of shamelessness that Dirk was accustomed to around Something Grimm. Which was, in the most basic sense, the general point of the club--that shame was overrated. That all people--even the most wicked sort of people--needed a place to be themselves, completely, without fear of a narrow minded citizen running to the nearest phone to report them. None of that. What no one seemed to realize was no one here wore a persona--here, everyone was stripped down to the bone. Here, they were only what they were, nothing more, nothing less. Half the reason why most of the submissive spent a good deal of time only partially clothed. They had nothing to hide. Then there were those who went above and beyond the call of shameless. Those were the submissive (sometimes switches) who simply got off on humiliation. Those who weren't afraid to push the boundaries of normal social interaction just because they wanted someone to slap them into place and tell them what a dirty fucking dog they were. Dirk, personally, could do without them. It wasn't that he had anything against the humiliation fetishist, it was just that they did nothing for him as a sadist. He enjoyed humiliating April, sure, getting her naked, tying her down, and telling her what a whore she was was practically a past time for him. And she did have a delicious, adorable little blush, though he'd never tell her that. But the thing was, he enjoyed it because she didn't. She liked being owned by Dirk, sure. And she'd do anything for her Master. But that didn't mean she always liked the trials he put her through. In fact, he made sure she was as uncomfortable as possible 99% of the time. And it worked for them. What didn't work for Dirk was someone who actually physically enjoyed the act of degradation. Because then Dirk would simply be giving them what they want, and that just wouldn't fly. This one. Leopold. Dirk couldn't quite put a finger on him. For one, he has all the makings of a submissive humiliation fetishist. In the way he spoke, his words unadorned with any decorative social grace. The flat, straight-to-the-point manner in which he asked questions anyone else might keep bottled up inside their head. "Does she understand?" The kid murmured, "Does she? When you make her beg, is she alive? Are you?" Dirk turned in the corners of his mouth at the question. "She does and feels whatever I tell her to feel," He responded, shortly. And that was all this kid was getting. Dirk wasn't about to break into some pseudo-psychological debate with the boy, or give even an inch inside his own head. But alive? Well. The was answer was clear enough. The energy from the scene still hummed through Dirk's veins, got under his skin and burned there. Yes. Alive was really the only thing to call it. And...when he had been young. When he had been Leopold's age. Spanking Lilly was the only thing that ever made him feel human. Fuck alive. It was the only thing that ever got him out of his head, as though he could finally settled into his skin enough to breath. And maybe there was that same painful disconnect inside the boy. Maybe he just needed to accept the fact that the sadist was the only human thing in him and leave it at that. Maybe Dirk was projecting. But then, there Leo was, solidifying Dirk's assumptions when he shot Dirk a quick: "I'm not a man. I'm her brother. I love her." There it was. That dominant, possessive edge. Too possessive, if anything. Not that Dirk was one to judge--if the boy loved his sister, so be it. But the father in Dirk did clench its jaw a little at that. He promoted deviancy to no end, but if he ever caught his kids fucking around...well. He might have to break his one personal rule never to lay a hard hand on them. Hitting his kids was one thing Dirk would never do. But, naturally, Dirk had to qualify the term hitting. He would never smack them around or generally abuse them. But to slap an belligerent kid upside the head wasn't abuse, it was just common sense. Leo was still talking. Explaining what he had with his sister. "She breaks men because they deserve it. I like to watch her hurt them. She lets me help sometimes...I would never hurt her." Fine. Fair enough. Time for Dirk to stop this uncharacteristically masochistic trip down memory lane and leave the boy to his voyeurism. But then he said something that stopped Dirk short. With a hint of a smile playing on the kid's lips, he said, simply, "I wonder if you'd break...if she'd make you scream." Now. It was common knowledge in the club that Dirk was the owner. Dirk was a dominant. Dirk was a sadist. You just didn't fuck with Dirk. Simple as that. And everyone lived a peaceful, happy existence. Apparently, this little brat didn't get the fucking memo. There was taunting, which was one thing. Very few people were allowed to get away with jabbing Dirk a little here and there. Annaliese, Dirk didn't mind so much. If she spoke out of turn, it was just because that was the way she carried herself, and she'd won enough hearts over in Something Grimm that Dirk had come to respect her. But this kid...he just sat there with his arrogant little smile. Someone needed to put him in his fucking place. But instead, Dirk did something he didn't often do. Dirk broke into a quick bark of a laugh. It was rare Dirk smiled, let alone laugh, but that had done it, really. Far as Dirk was concerned, this kid was a class fucking act right about now. "Alright. You watch your tongue, boy" Dirk said with a wolf's smile, though his tone was sharp as ice. "Before I rip it out of your head." With that, Dirk gave the kid a quick, (maybe too) firm pat on the face before making to stand and leave the kid for someone else to pick his bones. THIS POST IS TAGGED FOR LEOPOLD, AND IS 1,058 WORDS LONG. OH, AND I WANTED YOU TO KNOW SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER!. TEMPLATE BY ASHOO ! OF CAUTION 2.0

[LEOPOLD WETTIN]

Are you coming to the moment when you know your heart can break I'm inside you I'm around you just wanna hear you cry again I don't know why why but I love to see you cry - - - -

That was one aspect of this underground world that Leopold didn't understand. He told his submissives when they were to be quiet and when they could scream. He told them to be obedient. But Leopold had never told them how to feel because...that ruined it. If they were told how to feel Leopold would be lied to and he hated being lied to. His submissives almost never enjoyed what he did to them simply because Leopold pushed them too far but...at least it was obvious. "That's stupid," Leopold murmured, no hint of disgusted, annoyance or even disapproval in his voice. It was simply a true statement, well at least one Leopold thought to be true, and he didn't see the point of lying or keeping it to himself.

"Seeing her break...seeing her mind crumble, hearing it in whimpers...feeling life...touching it..." At the moment Leopold wasn't really looking at Dirk at all as he mumbled to himself. His eyes had trailed after April, mind wandering. Dirk had never really spoken to her other than to call her names, at least from what little Leopold had heard. He wondered if she would respond to his questions, if she would understand if Leopold did things the right way - and yes, he did believe that Dirk was doing it all wrong. And he told him so. "You didn't even watch her break. Never looked in her eyes...I wonder what it looks like."

Leopold felt no connection to the man next to him. Not at all. Dirk was a stranger to Leopold, someone he would have killed if the man ever did anything to his sister that Anna didn't like. When Leopold looked back at Dirk there was no friendliness there, nothing that said, 'I know I'm odd but we're friends, its okay'. There was simply a vague sort of interest, like when a shark too full to eat looks at a prey animal. Or a bored lion, too lazy to get up and rip you to shreds. Dirk was laughing though...and Leopold didn't like laughing. There was a spark of fire in his eyes when the man laughed at Leopold's comment about being broken.

It was funny that Dirk had seen Leopold's smile as arrogant because it hadn't been anything like that. The smile had been involuntary, a little hint of that burning desire for Leopold to see someone break, to feel it himself. It had been his odd, badly thought out attempt at connecting to Dirk. In Leopold's mind the man had to want that to, to feel pain choke his throat, spasm his muscles. To feel like every ounce of you was on fire, even your mind, and wonder if you would make it out alive on the other side. Leopold assumed everyone wanted that to feel alive.

Obviously he was wrong. "Don't," Leopold said softly, almost in a soundless whisper, and rage flashed in his eyes. Insecurities surged up in Leopold and his hands came down on the bench, white knuckling the lip of the seat. Why did everyone laugh at him? Why? What...what was so wrong with him that he was funny, some freakish...here everything was supposed to be okay, wasn't it? In that second Leopold hated Dirk Diederich and all he could think about was how it would look to wrap his hands around the man's neck. Then Dirk threatened him. Told him to watch his tongue before he got it ripped out.

And then Dirk touched him, slapped him, and Leopold saw red.

He was out of his seat only a second after Dirk had stood and his hand clamped down on the wrist of the hand that had hit him. His fingers dug in and even though Leopold was short, he wasn't a weak man. "Don't laugh at me," he hissed softly. There was something more than rage showing in Leopold's eyes, something that was more like a promise of violence than a threat. "Don't touch me...you can't touch me." Being touched by someone who wasn't allowed...being hit when Leopold didn't want it...his father had beaten him, beaten him into the floor until he'd not been able to get up and Leopold hated it. Hated being seen as weak, as someone who couldn't fight.

"Hit me again and I'll kill you." No arrogance, no overblown sense of importance. Just a quiet, enraged promise that Leopold had no problems with fulfilling. He was already a murderer and this man meant nothing to him.

Leopold's fingers tightened on the man's wrist again and the fingers of his free hand twitched, curled, wondering if he could get them around Dirk's neck before the man shoved him away. He stared at the taller man, face flushed with shame and anger, eyes flashing; although...if anyone had cared to look deeply enough they would have seen the pain, the shame of being reduced to a weak, useless thing.

Words: 829 - Credit: stalk me redneck! - Tag: dirk/cary