Eggsy snapped awake at the words. He instinctively looked toward the other bed, to where Daisy had been asleep. He could see her curled up under the covers; she’d probably ducked under when Dean had burst into their suite. He was already rolling out of bed, moving away from the voice that had woken him.
He’d barely gotten his feet under him when he felt Dean’s hand wrap in his hair. The customers liked it longer; it made them happier. But it had the downside of giving Dean a very good handhold, and Dean used it now to haul him away from his bed - dressed only in his boxers - and slam him up against the wall.
“Dean, please, not in front of Daise.” He hated himself for saying it; he hated how much he’d come to sound like his mother.
“Maybe I should,” he growled into Eggsy’s ear. “One of you’s gonna get it.”
“What’d I do?”
“Your last client was not happy with you, Muggsy. Ended up not buyin’ a fuckin’ thing.”
Eggsy shuddered. He’d done everything the bloke had demanded. “Hurt me, okay? I, I… Normal thing for fuckin’ up and, and then let the boys at me, okay? Just not in here, please.”
Dean took half a step back from him, but kept him pinned to the wall. Not that it took much. Eggsy knew better than to try and fight when Daisy’s safety was on the line.
“Get on your knees.”
Eggsy slid off the bed. He’d already been fucked, and he was gonna have bruises around his neck from the bastard choking him. He got to his knees, hands on his thighs and his head bowed. He saw the client walk across the suite to where the sofa was and leaned against the side of it.
“Crawl to me, bitch.”
He wanted to roll his eyes. He wanted to mouth off. But he knew better. And so he crawled to him, his head down. He supposed he was a little lucky. For as sadistic as the client had been while fucking him, at least the bastard was just humiliating him now.
When did that become something to be grateful for?
“Good,” the client crooned when Eggsy was at his feet. “Now kiss my feet. Show me how grateful you are to have been fucked by me.”
Eggsy lowered himself to the floor and started kissing his feet. He kissed and licked his way to one ankle and then swapped to the other foot. He bowed down again once he’d finished. “Thank you for fucking me,” he said, his voice soft and submissive. “I wasn’t worthy of it.”
“You really weren’t. You’re not even a halfway decent fuck.” He hummed. “I don’t think I’ll buy from Baker, after all.”
Eggsy cringed and went up on his knees. “I can demonstrate the chips for you. Please, activate it. See the sort of pain it puts me through.”
“Mm, I don’t know. You told me how much you enjoy that pain. Why should I reward you for a pisspoor fucking?”
“Because it ain’t a reward,” he whispered. “It’s… it’s an act. Swear it.”
“I see. So… you lied to me.”
“Yes, I lied. I deserve whatever you wanna do to me for it.”
He leaned down and wrapped his hand under Eggsy’s jaw. “Ask me to hurt you. Ask me to torture you.”
“Please… please torture me. I deserve it, for lying and for being such a disappointment. Please hurt me.”
He waited while the client got the disposable triggering card. He shifted his weight so he’d fall backwards when it started. He felt the pain coursing through his body as the chip activated, every nerve suddenly on fire. His muscles locked up and he fell back, unable to move, unable to scream. He’d expected the client to shut it off after a little while - maybe a minute - but the client just stood over him, watching him with a dark smile. Eggsy wished he could close his eyes or look away. He felt the tears coming and could do nothing about them as they fell. The chip had never been kept active for this long, and it was an eternity before he could no longer remain conscious in the face of the agony.
He didn’t know how long he’d been out for, only that he was being fucked. It rose in him to fight, but he fought that down and just let himself be fucked. He felt the client stiffen against him and then pale eyes fell on his.
“Six minutes,” he panted. “It took you six minutes to pass out.”
The client was still pressed tightly against him. Eggsy could feel his cock withering inside of him. “You… liked that… right?”
The client laughed softly. “Oh, yes.” He withdrew from Eggsy and got to his feet. “Now ask me for it again.”
Eggsy’s eyes widened. “What…?”
“Unless… you don’t want me to buy anything…”
Eggsy shuddered and closed his eyes for a moment. The client was going to do this to him all night, wasn’t he? He looked up at the client again, trying not to shake, trying not to show his fear, and then he obeyed. He asked to be tortured again, and then he waited.
Dean hauled him out of the suite. Eggsy didn’t struggle; he went along passively. Dean hauled him down to check-in and tossed him at the counter.
“He’s off shift tonight,” he snapped. “Tell the boys they can do what they want with him for the day, but not to touch his face.”
Eggsy gripped onto the counter. Maybe the dogs would get bored quickly. Or maybe he’d just pass out again. He’d been hurt enough the night before that it was possible, wasn’t it?
“Once they’re done with him, get the doc here. Make sure he ain’t gonna die on me,” Dean grumbled.
“Thank you, Dean,” he said quietly. It wasn’t out of gratitude; he knew it was expected of him.
He barely heard the receptionist calling the boys, calling Rottie. He just clung to the counter and reminded himself that Daisy was safe from being hurt; that no one was suffering for his fuck up but him. The thought that it was unfair didn’t even try to form. It had been a long time - a long time - since his life had been anything resembling fair.