Categories > Celebrities > Motley Crue > Scream Until You Like It
Vince could barely suppress a sigh of relief. Finally, somebody had come to rescue him from the hours of torment and humiliation he had endured. At least, so he hoped. Noticing the look on the blond's face, all Blackie could do was laugh. It amused him greatly just how dumb the younger man could be.
“You don't think you're getting out of this just yet, are you?” he asked the singer, his lips curling into that damned smirk that Vince was getting extremely sick of seeing. The younger's eyes widened as he came to the realization that he had no idea whatsoever who could possibly be at the front door. The brief feeling of relief that he had just experienced had quickly dropped back to a feeling of sheer terror.
Still chuckling softly to himself, Blackie reached for his clothes, dressing quickly and quietly, leaving his captor wondering what was going to happen next. Vince struggled against his cuffs, despite the fact that his wrists had become quite sore over the course of the night. He'd either been tied up or cuffed to the headboard for most of the night, and he was beginning to think that there was really no end in sight.
“Easy, there, blondie,” the bassist purred, eying the blond as he finished zipping up his pants. “You don't wanna hurt yourself.” Annoyed that he was being treated like a child yet again, Vince swore at his captor, but instantly regretted it when, like a flash, Blackie was at his side, evil grin firmly in place on his face.
“What have I told you about that filthy mouth of yours, blondie?” he asked wickedly, leaning in close to the younger man, their lips mere millimeters apart. “You just...don't learn, do you?” He leaned in closer, kissing Vince roughly, catching the young singer completely off-guard. However, as soon as he'd initiated the kiss, the bassist broke it, following with a swift slap to the blond's cheek.
“I really didn't want to have to do that again,” the dark-haired man sighed simply, shaking his head. “But you really gave me no choice.” He looked the blond over, his gaze lingering momentarily on the light pink handprint he'd left on Vince's face, which now was contorted into an expression of mixed shock and confusion.
“Any more backtalk for me?” Blackie asked in a tone that was half-teasing and half-menacing, leaving Vince speechless, because he knew where that tone usually lead. The blond shook his head, too afraid to do anything else. As a reward for being obedient, the bassist gave him a light pat on the head, as if to say “good boy”. He knew that kind of condescension pissed Vince off, and it amused him greatly, because he also knew that if the blond didn't want to be punished, he wouldn't do anything about it.
“Now,” the older said calmly, rising from his place on the bed and striding towards the stairs. “I'm going to get the door. No funny business while I'm gone, or you're gonna get hell from me when I get back.” He shot the blond a look that made it absolutely clear that he wasn't playing around. “Understood?” Vince nodded silently in response, showing that he more than understood.
“Good,” Blackie purred, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. “I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone.” Without another word, he disappeared up the stairs, leaving Vince alone, lying sprawled out on the bed in the dim light of the basement, his hands cuffed the headboard above his head. His arms were sore from being twisted in such an awkward position, and the marks on his body from when he'd been whipped still stung like a bitch. All he wanted was to go home and drink until he couldn't feel anymore.
The sound of footsteps interrupted the singer from his thoughts. He could hear not one, but two sets of feet making their way down the stairs, so he knew that Blackie wasn't alone. Perhaps he was finally being saved after all. The singer watched the stairwell anxiously as the bassist reentered the room, and his heart soared as he noticed that it was Nikki who had been following him.
But something didn't seem right. Nikki wasn't staring at Vince with fear in his eyes, horrified by the numerous marks on his body. He didn't seem worried about the fact that his lover was lying there naked and handcuffed to a bed in the middle of some psychopath's basement. In fact, Nikki didn't seem phased by the situation at all. It was almost as though he was used to it.
While Nikki's apparent indifference towards the situation may have worried and frightened Vince, it was nothing compared to what he saw next. The blond watched from his position on the bed as Blackie grabbed Nikki by the hand, turning him so that the two were face to face, and kissed him full on the lips. There was no resistance on the younger man's part, and the kiss seemed sweet, almost loving.
Breaking the kiss, the two bass players pulled away from each other, nearly identical smirks on each of their faces. They remained silent for a few moments, sharing a knowing look that Vince was desperate to be let in on, because he hated being out of the loop, especially in such dire circumstances. After a few seconds of silence, it was the older man who spoke first.
“So...” Blackie began quietly, quickly glancing over at the blond before returning his gaze to Nikki. “Whaddya think, Sixx? How did I do?”
Nikki walked over towards Vince, surveying the damage that had been done to his body. He ran his fingertips over the blond's stomach, feeling each and every mark that had been left on his skin. The singer would tense up a bit and wince in pain each time Nikki's fingers would brush against the whip marks, which caused a twisted little smirk to spread itself across the bass player's face. His smirk grew bigger, turning into a grin as he noticed the fading pink handprint on Vince's right cheek.
The bassist looked up at his former bandmate, still grinning. “I'd say you did a terrific job,” he replied at last, sounding pleased. The blond, on the other hand, was far from pleased. He felt hurt. Betrayed. He had no clue what was going on, but he knew that he had been lied to, and he didn't like it one bit.
“YOU KNEW ABOUT THIS?!” the singer shrieked, startling Nikki with his sudden outburst. “AND YOU WERE OKAY WITH IT?!” Vince continued, his voice rising in both pitch and in volume due to his anger. “WHAT THE FUCK, NIKKI?! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!” The bassist looked at him silently, unsure of how to answer, before glancing back up at Blackie, who returned his gaze with a calm smile.
“Cool it there, blondie,” he purred, striding over towards the bed, picking up a length of cloth from the desk as he walked. “If you stop yelling for five seconds, we'll tell you what's going on.” He was at Vince's side once again, and quickly had the cloth wrapped tightly around the blond's mouth, robbing him of his ability to speak. “Won't we, Sixx?” he added with a smirk, looking back up at Nikki, who nodded in response.
“You see,” the oldest began, moving from his place beside the blond in order to stand over next to Nikki. “That deal I mentioned? Well, the details of it may have been a little different from what I told you.” Blackie shifted his gazed, looking at the younger bassist, inviting him to continue with the explanation. Nikki was silent for a moment, until the older man nudged him in the side, urging him to speak.
“Well,” the bassist began with a sigh, pausing for a moment to think about his words before he spoke. “I don't know if you've noticed, but you've been acting like a gigantic asshole lately.” Vince took a breath as if to protest, even though he couldn't speak, but Nikki held up a hand, indicating that he didn't want to hear it. “Don't even try denying it. For the past few months, your ego has been getting worse and worse. You've been acting like Queen Bitch, and everybody around you has been getting fucking sick and tired of it. Even the chicks you fuck have told me that you act like a selfish, inconsiderate prick.” As he paused for breath, Nikki looked up at the blond, who looked as though he had just been slapped.
“And that's why I called up my good friend here,” he continued, wrapping an arm around Blackie's waist, a wicked grin beginning to spread across his face. “I knew that out of all the people I know, he'd be the one that wouldn't take your bullshit. So I asked him to take you down a few notches, to let you know that it's not always about you, Princess.”
“And I'd say I did a damn good job!” Blackie added proudly, wrapping his arm around Nikki's shoulder, pulling him close so that they could admire his handiwork together. “I put our little blondie in his place real quick.” The bassist shared a smile with Nikki before returning his gaze to the blond. “You know I don't tolerate insolence,” he said wickedly as he looked Vince directly in the eyes. “Especially from spoiled, privileged pretty boys like you.”
Vince narrowed his eyes at the singer, as if to say “fuck you”. He couldn't believe that Nikki had allowed him to be subjected to this. Why couldn't Nikki have just talked to him about it? Now that he thought about it, the blond seemed to recall the bassist being more aggravated with him in recent weeks, but he'd never paid any mind to it. Maybe he was a selfish asshole, considering he'd never stopped to consider Nikki's feelings, or anyone else's, for that matter.
It was Nikki's voice that then snapped the blond out of his thoughts. “D'you think he's learned his lesson?” he asked, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips as he turned to look at Blackie.
“Oh no,” the older man purred deviously, glancing over at the young singer with a mischievous grin. “We're nowhere near finished with you, blondie.”
Vince's eyes widened, and he gulped in fear.
We?
“You don't think you're getting out of this just yet, are you?” he asked the singer, his lips curling into that damned smirk that Vince was getting extremely sick of seeing. The younger's eyes widened as he came to the realization that he had no idea whatsoever who could possibly be at the front door. The brief feeling of relief that he had just experienced had quickly dropped back to a feeling of sheer terror.
Still chuckling softly to himself, Blackie reached for his clothes, dressing quickly and quietly, leaving his captor wondering what was going to happen next. Vince struggled against his cuffs, despite the fact that his wrists had become quite sore over the course of the night. He'd either been tied up or cuffed to the headboard for most of the night, and he was beginning to think that there was really no end in sight.
“Easy, there, blondie,” the bassist purred, eying the blond as he finished zipping up his pants. “You don't wanna hurt yourself.” Annoyed that he was being treated like a child yet again, Vince swore at his captor, but instantly regretted it when, like a flash, Blackie was at his side, evil grin firmly in place on his face.
“What have I told you about that filthy mouth of yours, blondie?” he asked wickedly, leaning in close to the younger man, their lips mere millimeters apart. “You just...don't learn, do you?” He leaned in closer, kissing Vince roughly, catching the young singer completely off-guard. However, as soon as he'd initiated the kiss, the bassist broke it, following with a swift slap to the blond's cheek.
“I really didn't want to have to do that again,” the dark-haired man sighed simply, shaking his head. “But you really gave me no choice.” He looked the blond over, his gaze lingering momentarily on the light pink handprint he'd left on Vince's face, which now was contorted into an expression of mixed shock and confusion.
“Any more backtalk for me?” Blackie asked in a tone that was half-teasing and half-menacing, leaving Vince speechless, because he knew where that tone usually lead. The blond shook his head, too afraid to do anything else. As a reward for being obedient, the bassist gave him a light pat on the head, as if to say “good boy”. He knew that kind of condescension pissed Vince off, and it amused him greatly, because he also knew that if the blond didn't want to be punished, he wouldn't do anything about it.
“Now,” the older said calmly, rising from his place on the bed and striding towards the stairs. “I'm going to get the door. No funny business while I'm gone, or you're gonna get hell from me when I get back.” He shot the blond a look that made it absolutely clear that he wasn't playing around. “Understood?” Vince nodded silently in response, showing that he more than understood.
“Good,” Blackie purred, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. “I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone.” Without another word, he disappeared up the stairs, leaving Vince alone, lying sprawled out on the bed in the dim light of the basement, his hands cuffed the headboard above his head. His arms were sore from being twisted in such an awkward position, and the marks on his body from when he'd been whipped still stung like a bitch. All he wanted was to go home and drink until he couldn't feel anymore.
The sound of footsteps interrupted the singer from his thoughts. He could hear not one, but two sets of feet making their way down the stairs, so he knew that Blackie wasn't alone. Perhaps he was finally being saved after all. The singer watched the stairwell anxiously as the bassist reentered the room, and his heart soared as he noticed that it was Nikki who had been following him.
But something didn't seem right. Nikki wasn't staring at Vince with fear in his eyes, horrified by the numerous marks on his body. He didn't seem worried about the fact that his lover was lying there naked and handcuffed to a bed in the middle of some psychopath's basement. In fact, Nikki didn't seem phased by the situation at all. It was almost as though he was used to it.
While Nikki's apparent indifference towards the situation may have worried and frightened Vince, it was nothing compared to what he saw next. The blond watched from his position on the bed as Blackie grabbed Nikki by the hand, turning him so that the two were face to face, and kissed him full on the lips. There was no resistance on the younger man's part, and the kiss seemed sweet, almost loving.
Breaking the kiss, the two bass players pulled away from each other, nearly identical smirks on each of their faces. They remained silent for a few moments, sharing a knowing look that Vince was desperate to be let in on, because he hated being out of the loop, especially in such dire circumstances. After a few seconds of silence, it was the older man who spoke first.
“So...” Blackie began quietly, quickly glancing over at the blond before returning his gaze to Nikki. “Whaddya think, Sixx? How did I do?”
Nikki walked over towards Vince, surveying the damage that had been done to his body. He ran his fingertips over the blond's stomach, feeling each and every mark that had been left on his skin. The singer would tense up a bit and wince in pain each time Nikki's fingers would brush against the whip marks, which caused a twisted little smirk to spread itself across the bass player's face. His smirk grew bigger, turning into a grin as he noticed the fading pink handprint on Vince's right cheek.
The bassist looked up at his former bandmate, still grinning. “I'd say you did a terrific job,” he replied at last, sounding pleased. The blond, on the other hand, was far from pleased. He felt hurt. Betrayed. He had no clue what was going on, but he knew that he had been lied to, and he didn't like it one bit.
“YOU KNEW ABOUT THIS?!” the singer shrieked, startling Nikki with his sudden outburst. “AND YOU WERE OKAY WITH IT?!” Vince continued, his voice rising in both pitch and in volume due to his anger. “WHAT THE FUCK, NIKKI?! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!” The bassist looked at him silently, unsure of how to answer, before glancing back up at Blackie, who returned his gaze with a calm smile.
“Cool it there, blondie,” he purred, striding over towards the bed, picking up a length of cloth from the desk as he walked. “If you stop yelling for five seconds, we'll tell you what's going on.” He was at Vince's side once again, and quickly had the cloth wrapped tightly around the blond's mouth, robbing him of his ability to speak. “Won't we, Sixx?” he added with a smirk, looking back up at Nikki, who nodded in response.
“You see,” the oldest began, moving from his place beside the blond in order to stand over next to Nikki. “That deal I mentioned? Well, the details of it may have been a little different from what I told you.” Blackie shifted his gazed, looking at the younger bassist, inviting him to continue with the explanation. Nikki was silent for a moment, until the older man nudged him in the side, urging him to speak.
“Well,” the bassist began with a sigh, pausing for a moment to think about his words before he spoke. “I don't know if you've noticed, but you've been acting like a gigantic asshole lately.” Vince took a breath as if to protest, even though he couldn't speak, but Nikki held up a hand, indicating that he didn't want to hear it. “Don't even try denying it. For the past few months, your ego has been getting worse and worse. You've been acting like Queen Bitch, and everybody around you has been getting fucking sick and tired of it. Even the chicks you fuck have told me that you act like a selfish, inconsiderate prick.” As he paused for breath, Nikki looked up at the blond, who looked as though he had just been slapped.
“And that's why I called up my good friend here,” he continued, wrapping an arm around Blackie's waist, a wicked grin beginning to spread across his face. “I knew that out of all the people I know, he'd be the one that wouldn't take your bullshit. So I asked him to take you down a few notches, to let you know that it's not always about you, Princess.”
“And I'd say I did a damn good job!” Blackie added proudly, wrapping his arm around Nikki's shoulder, pulling him close so that they could admire his handiwork together. “I put our little blondie in his place real quick.” The bassist shared a smile with Nikki before returning his gaze to the blond. “You know I don't tolerate insolence,” he said wickedly as he looked Vince directly in the eyes. “Especially from spoiled, privileged pretty boys like you.”
Vince narrowed his eyes at the singer, as if to say “fuck you”. He couldn't believe that Nikki had allowed him to be subjected to this. Why couldn't Nikki have just talked to him about it? Now that he thought about it, the blond seemed to recall the bassist being more aggravated with him in recent weeks, but he'd never paid any mind to it. Maybe he was a selfish asshole, considering he'd never stopped to consider Nikki's feelings, or anyone else's, for that matter.
It was Nikki's voice that then snapped the blond out of his thoughts. “D'you think he's learned his lesson?” he asked, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips as he turned to look at Blackie.
“Oh no,” the older man purred deviously, glancing over at the young singer with a mischievous grin. “We're nowhere near finished with you, blondie.”
Vince's eyes widened, and he gulped in fear.
We?
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