Part 2

The illegal club was hidden behind a legitimate coffee shop. Soundproofing ensured that the sounds of frivolity were hidden from the ears of the authorities. Justin stood against the bar with his bodyguard and best friend Lance. The two were well know, their nicknames more so than their real ones. Justin or Tennessee as he was known sipped at his moonshine, while Lance, Mississippi, scanned the club for threats. Both men stiffened when Joe Fatone walked into the room.

Fatone smiled widely and greeted his younger brother and his bodyguard. “Never expected to see you here tonight Justin.”

“Tennessee,” Justin corrected.

“Now Justin you know poppa hates you being called that.”

“Well I like it. I was born in Tennessee.” Justin downed his scotch and inclined his head to the barman for a refill. “Besides Justin don’t exactly inspire terror does it,” Justin mumbled to no one in particular. “Makes me sound like a puppy.”

Joe sniggered and tussled his brothers golden curls. “That’s because your momma didn’t want her golden child to be caught up in the family business.”

Justin swiped away his brother’s big hand. “Yeah well I am, like it or not.” He started to sip his drink but paused, his glass hanging in mid air just below his lips. “Who is that?”

Joe followed his gaze to Chris Kirkpatrick, who was manhandling an attractive brunette through the crowd. “Ahh Paddy’s brought me a street rat.” Joe walked over to meet his right-hand-man, Justin and Lance following close behind. “Well didn’t you scrub up well?”

JC cringed under the older mans inspection, his cheeks colouring with humiliation. His collar length chocolate coloured hair hung in soft curls around his face. Thick dark lashes framed large blue eyes and his soft pouty lips trembled. Joe reached out to cup JC’s chin and the scared teen took a step back only to hit the immoveable Kirkpatrick behind him. He whimpered as his arm was twisted up his back and he was shoved back against Joe’s hard body.

“You owe me boy. Tonight you start paying me back.”

The scared teen whimpered louder as Joe pulled him into his arms, spinning him around so that he was looking at the crowd. “Many of these men like to have company. Your sort of company. From now on you work for me. You do ANYTHING you are asked.”

JC began to cry, hot tears burning their way down his face. “Please - please don’t make me do this,” he begged.

“I can always have Paddy slit your throat.”

JC wept piteously, shudders wracking his frail frame as understanding dawned on him. He was trapped, either he worked as a whore for the mob or he died.

“Joey,” Justin rested his hand on his older brothers arm. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

The Italian mobster frowned at his brother then a slow grin spread over his face. “This is my brother Justin, street rat. Tell him your name.”

“JC, my name’s JC.” the brunette shook with the effort it was taking to control his tears.

“I’m Tennessee, only my family call me Justin, this is Mississippi,“ Justin pointed to Lance. “What did you do that you owe my brother JC?”

The teen bit his lip, not wanting to divulge that he was a thief. A hand twisted in his hair making him cry out and drop to his knees. “You were asked a question street rat answer him.”

“ I stole a wallet.” JC looked up his eyes full of tears. “I was hungry.” His eyes met Justin’s “I don’t want to be a whore, please don’t make me be a whore.”

“Give him to me Joe.”

Fatone looked to Kirkpatrick waiting to see his reaction to his brother’s request. When Chris grinned he looked at Lance and was met with slanted green eyes that weren’t convinced that JC could be trusted. “What do you want him for?” Joe asked.

“I don’t know yet. I just want him.”

Joe whispered in JC’s ear. “You will go with my brother and you will do what ever he wants you to do. You disobey him or hurt him in anyway and you will discover the true meaning of pain.” He paused to let the impact of his words sink into JC’s brain then he lifted the brunette’s chin and pulled his head back so he could kiss the side of his face and whisper once more in his ear. “Paddy knows ways that kill a man in stages. Inch by precious inch. He’ll start with your fingers or maybe toes, cutting you up piece by beautiful piece. Stemming the bleeding at every stage to prolong your agony.”

JC began to cry again, truly terrified.

“He could keep you alive for days, weeks. Imagine being tied to a table while he hacks your cock off with a blunt knife.” Satisfied that JC was suitably terrorized he roughly pushed him into Justin’s arms. “Have fun Jay.”

The blond grinned and took hold of JC’s arm. “I intend to,” he said cheerfully.

As they walked away Kirkpatrick moved closer to his boss. “You think it’s a good idea to encourage the lad?”

“Justin likes to play, when it’s time to settle down and take a wife he will. Let him have his whores for now.” Joe watched as Justin led JC up the stairs and into the family apartments that were above the coffee shop and club.

“And what if the golden boy won’t give up his little boyfriends?”

Joey slapped his friend on the back. “We get him a token bitch, that he can get knocked up but knows that she is nothing more than a womb.”

Chris took a glass of scotch from a waitress that was passing by. “You think a girl will go for that?”

“Of course, we are the Fatone’s. Money, power, how can any girl resist?”

The mafia boss lifted his glass in salute. “To Justin and his new whore. May he find a nice tight hole to play in.”

JC allowed himself to be led nervously up the stairs and into the spacious apartments. He chewed on his bottom lip as the tall blond followed close behind.

“Do you want a drink?” Justin held out a bottle of scotch, waiting for an answer.

JC shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Are you scared?”

This time JC nodded, still keeping his eyes fixed to the ground.

“How old are you JC?” Justin moved closer, standing a mere foot away from the trembling boy. He gently lifted JC’s chin with his right hand, stroking his face with his left.

“18,” was JC’s whispered reply.

“I’m 21, Mississippi here is 23. You’re shaking.” JC swallowed as Justin’s hands travelled down the side of his neck and rested on his shirt. He whimpered softly as buttons were un-popped and the shirt slipped slowly off his shoulders.

Justin caught his breath at the smooth expanse of skin that was just beneath his fingertips. “Are you marked?”

JC gave him a confused look.

“Tattooed, inked.”

“No,” JC answered softly. “I don’t like needles.”

“Take off your pants. I want to examine you.” Stifling a sob JC loosened his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. “Underwear too.” This time the sob was loud enough to attract Justin’s attention. “Crying don’t help, it just pisses me off so I suggest that you stop now.”

JC hooked his fingers under the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, kicking them off so that they joined his pants pooled on the floor. “Put your hands on your head and stand up straight.”

“Cute,” Lance commented. “Nice soft skin.”

Justin ran his hands over JC’s back. “Do you see what I see?” he asked.

“A blank canvas, one waiting to be used.”

“A living piece of art.” Justin laughed as JC shivered under his touch. “Get my inks Mississippi.” The naked teen gasped and staggered back. Justin really meant to tattoo him against his will. He looked wildly around himself gauging the distance to the door. Justin watched with amusement as the skinny boy looked for a way of escape. “You really don’t have a choice you know,” Justin said as he stepped forward to cup JC’s jaw once more. He stroked his thumb over the brunettes trembling lips. “You are lovely. I’m going to make you more beautiful.” The curly haired blond leaned in, replacing his thumb with his mouth, licking at JC’s lips, tasting the salt from the younger boys tears.

“Where do you want them?” Lance asked. He had returned and was holding a case in his hand.

Justin pulled away from JC’s sweet lips and sighed. “The table, I’m not going to start anything big tonight. I want to plan it out make some drawings.”

Lance rolled his eyes, “why did you want your inks then?”

“I’m going to mark him as mine.” JC made a break for the door.

Lance grabbed him around his waist and wrestled him over to the table. “Now hold on sugar. Where do you think you are going all naked like you are?”

JC kicked and struggled, “Let go of me!” he screamed.

“Hold him down Mississippi,” Justin instructed as he loaded his tattoo gun with black ink. Lance held JC firmly face down over the table, his ass exposed. Taking a piece of cloth Justin soaked it in alcohol and washed it over JC’s right cheek. “Relax baby, this won’t take but a minute.”

As the needle made contact with his skin JC cried out, pleading and begging for Justin to stop. Ten long minutes passed before Justin stopped etching on JC’s ass. He swiped the tattoo with more alcohol and smeared it with Vaseline before taping a soft piece of cloth over it.

Lance smirked, “Property of Tennessee Fatone, not very original is it?” The blond had JC’s hands gripped tightly so he couldn’t rip at the wound.

“Original enough so that no one will touch his sweet ass, ever.” Justin cleaned his needle, putting it back into his kit for use later on. He fished around in his tattoo case and fished out a pair of handcuffs. “Bring him into the bedroom.”

The bodyguard lifted JC up and marched him into the bedroom, throwing him onto the bed. Before JC could react his wrists were yanked above his head and cuffed to the metal bed frame. “Get some sleep sweetness.“ Justin suggested, “I have some work to take care of. Mississippi -”

The blond bodyguard patted the sore spot on JC’s behind, laughing when he hissed at the pain. “Sleep tight sugar.”

They closed the bedroom door leaving the teen in total darkness. “He’s lovely Tennessee,” Lance said, his appreciation of JC showing through.

“I can’t believe Joe gave him to me, he never even argued.” Justin pulled a bunch of drawing out of his desk and started to spread them around the table.

“You really going to use him as a canvas?” Lance asked.

“Yep. What do you think?”

Lance gasped at the beautiful artwork laid out for his inspection. “You drew these?”

“Every last one of them. Now I’m going to transfer them onto JC’s exquisite skin.” Justin beamed with pride. He loved it when his passion was admired.

The bodyguard picked up a drawing. “Magnificent,” he breathed. “Tell me you intend to use this.”

Justin took the drawing and smoothed it flat on the table. “I was thinking maybe on his back, winding it down his spine.”

“That would be perfect, and maybe this one on his shoulder, twisting around his arm and finishing at his wrist.” Lance held up a painting of a serpent, blues and greens.

“I’ll need some steel rings and bars too.” Justin laughed when Lance looked at him in confusion. “I’m going to pierce him,” Justin explained.

Lance nodded understanding. He had let Justin pierce him a few years ago; he still wore the ring in his left nipple. “Are you going to fuck him?” he asked.

“Maybe, after each session. If I’m going to spend all this time on his body I’m going to keep him.”

Lance poured himself a shot of scotch and chugged it back. “And you think he’ll stay with you after you turn him into a painted freak?”

Justin took the bottle and took a slug. “He’ll stay. One, because he will have nowhere else to go, Two, because when I finish with him no one will want him and three, he’ll be in love with me.”

“Care to wager on that?” Lance asked holding out his hand.

“Two hundred says JC ends up my lap dog by the time I finish tattooing him.”


Justin laughed, “Lets get some food, then decide what other ones of these we are going to use.”