The stretch was intense, a burning ache that instantly morphed into a deep, satisfying pressure. He was filled, completely, pinned between the unyielding wall and the solid, unrelenting force of the man holding him.
"Fuck," Jian Rui breathed, his nails digging into Stannis’s shoulders.
Stannis didn’t move for a long second, letting them both feel it, letting Jian Rui adjust to the overwhelming invasion. He pressed his forehead to Jian Rui’s, his breathing harsh. "Ah... I love you so much," he murmured, the words a dark caress.
Then he pulled back and drove into him again. The pace he set was punishing, a deep, rhythmic pounding that had Jian Rui seeing stars. Each thrust jolted him against the wall, the impact a dull counterpoint to the sharp, exquisite friction inside him.
Stannis’s strength was terrifying. He held Jian Rui’s entire weight easily, his hips pistoning with a power that was both chanical and fiercely alive. Jian Rui could do nothing but hold on, his legs locked tight, his body taking every inch, every brutal, wonderful stroke.
***
Yu Xi took the device off his mouth and injected him in the thigh. When Lord Leung took a painful breath, gasping and coughing, Yu Xi smirked. This was just the beginning of his suffering.
His first application of the baton was no longer on the vital area, but to the fleshy part of Leung’s thigh, a sharp, searing strike that produced a choked gasp rather than a scream.
"The electric jolt, a sharp crackle that briefly drowned out the hum, was ant to shock, confuse, and break through one’s defences.
Yu Xi’s voice, when it ca, was a low, gravelly rasp, devoid of any discernible emotion, yet laced with an ice-cold venom that promised far worse. "Lord Leung," the words dripped like acid, each syllable a perfectly aid dart. "You have enjoyed a certain... comfort. A luxury built on the misery of others. But for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This... this is your karma."
The confined space of the room beca an instrunt of torture in itself. The screams, when they began to tear from Leung’s throat, were not just sounds but physical entities, ricocheting off the concrete walls, amplified and distorted, trapped within the inescapable confines of the room.
Each cry was a testant to the lives he had so carelessly trampled, a soundtrack to his own unraveling. Yu Xi watched, his gaze unflinching, absorbing every nuance of Leung’s reaction.
The man’s carefully cultivated facade of power and control began to fracture under the relentless pressure. The eyes, once darting with calculation, now swam with a primal, unreasoning terror.
Sweat stread down his face, not just from exertion, but from a profound, soul-deep dread. Yu Xi continued, his questions like probing scalpels, each one designed to cut deeper into the soft underbelly of Leung’s empire. "Who are you working for? Don’t tell you don’t know.
That would be... a fucking lie, wouldn’t it?" The baton would strike again, a swift, precise arc that left a smoking welt, always followed by a probing question, a demand for information that was both specific and damning. This was not about breaking Leung’s will. It was about systematically dismantling his entire world, brick by painful brick.
Yu Xi understood that raw pain could be endured, even overco. But pain coupled with psychological tornt was a different beast entirely. The flickering lights played tricks on Leung’s vision, making the shadows seem to writhe and coil like serpents, fueling his paranoia.
The constant hum of the baton was a persistent, gnawing irritant, a reminder of the ever-present threat, a lullaby of suffering.
Lord Leung slumped forward passing out again. Yu Xi had anticipated it thus he administered the drug again. It wouldn’t alleviate the pain, but it would ensure that Lord Leung remained conscious, lucid enough to feel every agonizing mont.
Yu Xi didn’t want a quick confession. It was about a drawn-out, agonizing torturous experience. He wanted him to feel the pain he carried with him for years. The screams, at first ragged and choked, began to gain a desperate, pleading cadence. "Please... please... I, I will tell you... just stop!"
But Yu Xi’s response was a chillingly calm, "We have only just begun, Lord Leung. The symphony has barely started." The air grew thicker, heavier, not just with the scent of fear, but with the palpable weight of impending destruction, a destruction orchestrated by a mind that had been honed to a razor’s edge by years of silent, burning grief.
As the carefully orchestrated agony intensified, the cracks in Lord Leung’s carefully constructed dam of defiance widened into gaping fissures. The swaggering bravado of a man used to getting his way had crumbled, giving way to pitiful whimpers.The raw, primal fear had stripped him bare, leaving behind a quivering, broken entity desperate for any respite, any end to the tornt.
Yu Xi, the architect of this carefully controlled demolition, moved with the precision of a surgeon, exploiting each tremor, each involuntary sob, each fragnted plea.
Yu Xi pulled back and asked, "Who are you working for?" Leung, his voice a ragged whisper torn between pain and terror, stamred, "I don’t ... I don’t know... I just get a ssage. Each ti... its a new contact. They tell what to... deliver." Each word was a gasp, a desperate offering tossed into the abyss, hoping to appease this devil.
Yu Xi, his face impassive, said, "Oh co on, I have read information about you. You are cunning fox... There is no way you would do a job for soone without having a plan."
A shudder ran through Leung. "I... I kept... every number. Every number they have used... you you can check my communicator...."
Yu Xi leaned closer, his voice a silken thread of nace. "I don’t want contacts. I want nas and I know you know who they are... I want your insurance policy."
Leung’s eyes rolled back in his head, a dizzying mix of pain and hallucination.
Yu Xi’s lip curled, a fleeting expression of disdain. "Since you won’t give it to then I might go and look for your favourite offspring... maybe that will convince you."
Lord Leung began to cry hysterically. Not his sweet little angel who would never hurt even a fly.
AN: Sweet little angel my ass.
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