A/N: and we, thankfully, gallop toward the end of the first arc of the story

The usual CW of Sawyer being a master of gross, no good, very bad behaviours

Sawyer had enjoyed using the expanding plug on Gabriel. The boy had loved it for the first hour or so, as it had expanded, pressing firmly against his prostate to give him a frustrating kind of pleasure, and retracted, over and over. He'd upped the torture after that, though, until Gabriel was red faced with sweat dripping off his brow, reeking of fear as Sawyer had made it stretch him more, and added taunting words about just how far he could take it.

The fact that Gabriel didn't trust him not to push it beyond his capabilities; it gave Sawyer a particular type of thrill. He hoped the boy would never quite trust him that much. There was something so dull about breaking a sub in fully, and for all Gabriel's demure lashes and quiet acquiescence there was still a spark of something behind his eyes. He'd been going gentler on Gabriel than any other sub before, because he wanted him to stay around. But even so, he was already able to take more than anyone else Sawyer had encountered at his level of experience – and more than many experienced masochists – and that kind of ability was worth keeping.

The plug had been a gift from Greg, who would probably be Sawyer's best friend if he bothered with such things. He came the closest to understanding Sawyer's particular needs and desires. Lewis and Matthew didn't have the same intensity in their sadistic needs, and still didn't get why he had a sub at home but was getting his rocks off elsewhere. Not that they wouldn't do the same, but that they'd be using their sub too. They didn't comprehend that Gabriel wasn't for defiling that way.

It made Sawyer wonder though...

He'd liked seeing Gabriel like that, trying to writhe and escape the over stimulation. He knew he was relatively innocent. Perfectly naïve. Almost everything beyond static missionary he'd learned from Sawyer. And he was a quick study. He seemed to adapt to every new push Sawyer gave him. It was rather sweet, really. And then there was his tolerance and desire for pain, which was so, so high.

"We're going to the club tonight."

"Master?"

"It wasn't a question."

Gabriel winced, and Sawyer smiled.

"I've laid clothes out on the bed. Prepare yourself and then come to my room."

Gabriel's timing was perfect, and he appeared at Sawyer's bedroom door just as he was fastening the lowest button on his navy silk shirt. He looked delicious; uncertain in the small leather shorts and thigh high white socks Sawyer had left out for him, tucking his hair behind his ear with a flush to his cheeks.

"Very nice. They suit you. Perhaps I'll have you wear them around the penthouse."

Gabriel opened his mouth, and Sawyer smiled when he closed it again, remembering it wasn't his place to speak unless he was addressed. He was going to be very pleasing around his friends.

"Do you wish to say something before we leave, whore?"

Sawyer had noticed Gabriel's silly little wriggles, like he was trying to demand attention but too timid to do so, and gave him a chance. He didn't want him building up to do something later that would get him into trouble – and embarrass Sawyer in front of his friends.

"Um, people will be able to see."

Sawyer didn't know what he meant for a moment, but then he pointed and he realized Gabriel was referring to the beautiful red stripes adorning his back.

"Oh, darling," he said warmly, "everyone will adore those marks. I adore those marks, and you like that, don't you? You look beautiful."

Gabriel's jaw dropped, and Sawyer wondered if he'd said too much. But then his boy smiled, and looked far more eager, so it worked.

"One last thing."

Gabriel came closer and Sawyer fastened the leather collar around his delicate neck. It was a little too loose, but he'd organize a tighter one soon. This one would do, along with the matching leash he clipped to it now. He picked up the riding crop and ushered Gabriel out of the penthouse, more than ready to show him off.

Sawyer loved going to the club – loved the eyes of all the sweet subs in the line roaming over him with need. Tonight, he had the pleasure of watching them narrow to jealousy when they saw Gabriel by his side. There was only one, in the whole line, resolutely looking away. A sweet kid who was fairly new to everything, who Sawyer had played with a few weeks earlier – pretty hard, because he was still building Gabriel up at that point. The kid had avoided him since, having no idea that his fear did nothing but feed Sawyer. He'd probably push him again soon – though not tonight, because Gabriel was there for his focus tonight.

They entered the club – Top Floor – without having to line up, of course, Gabriel scurrying to keep up with Sawyer's long strides. It was cute how he didn't want to get lost. Sawyer tried to see the club – huge and dark and loud – through the eyes of someone who hadn't seen it before, but that was impossible. Sawyer knew it like it was a second home to him, and he found his friends with ease in their usual spot.

He greeted them, ignoring Gabriel for the moment, making sure he knew his place, though he didn't seem inclined to try and burst out of it. Matthew was there with the boy he'd been scening with for the last few weeks – a cute twenty-year-old with golden hair and big eyes. Matthew was a sadist too – all his friends were because he'd long discovered no other Doms could understand the way he needed to work – but he was a lot softer than Sawyer, and his boy – Jules, Sawyer seemed to remember – was hanging off his arm like they were boyfriends or something. It was a bit sickening, but he had little doubt that the others would have already ribbed him about it, and Sawyer wasn't about to be unoriginal by joining in.

Instead, when they were seated – and Gabriel had kneeled by his side without being prompted, which was extremely gratifying – he put his hand on Gabriel's chin, lifting his head so he could look into his eyes.

"I'm going to introduce you to my friends."

Gabriel didn't say anything, and Sawyer was again pleased about how good Gabriel could make him look.

"This is Master Greg, Master Lewis, and Master Matthew."

He didn't bother introducing Jules. Matthew could do that, if he felt like it.

"How do you like the club?" Lewis asked, leaning forward with the kind of salacious look on his face that Sawyer would like to slap off, though he held back for the sake of having a nice evening.

"It's very loud, Master Lewis," Gabriel responded. His voice was soft, but carried well, so no one struggled to hear him even in the busy club.

Lewis laughed, rocking back in his chair like it was the funniest thing he'd heard. "Wait till the show starts."

* * * * *

Gabriel wasn't sure how he felt about this club. Even as he kept his eyes down, he could see the bustle. It was obvious who the ones like him were – the lack of clothes was a good indication. He wasn't sure what he thought of Master's friends. Two of them reminded him of sharks with their dark, cold eyes and the nasty way they had of smiling in a way that was anything but joyful.

The other looked nicer, but he'd barely glanced at Gabriel, focused on the pretty boy who was with him instead. Gabriel had noticed that one had red stripes on him a bit like his own – across his thighs, and that the man kept touching them, running his palms over them as he whispered in the boy's ear, getting giggles in response.

"Gabriel."

He looked up, his Master's face stern, and he flushed guiltily at getting caught in his sneaky peeks. But he patted the seat next to him, and guided Gabriel up to sit there.

"Master?" he risked the question, as he seemed to be in a generally good mood surrounded by his friends.

"I wouldn't want you to miss the show."

Gabriel took the opportunity to look around. They were close to a wide stage, but the room was huge. There was a central staircase passing through the floor, and he could see another bar on the far side of it. Even though it was very dim, he could also see that there were several raised plinths over on that side, and they had people on them. Submissives he thought. He couldn't see what was actually happening – and at least two of them were so crowded by larger men that he could barely even see the boys on display – but he could guess, and it made him shiver. He hated that he wasn't even sure if the cold feeling that ran down his spine at the thought of being so humiliatingly on display was good or not.

He didn't have any more time to consider the distant boys though, because a solid man strolled onto the stage, holding something that Gabriel could now recognize as a flogger. He was wearing leather pants and heavy boots, his thick chest coated in hair. He didn't say anything, just stood, gazing impassively over the crowd, who were slowly quietening, waiting for something to happen.

It did, when two men dressed similarly to him carried a struggling boy between themselves and flung him to the floor. He dropped immediately, his face on the floor and his arms flung in front.

"What do you have to say?" The man's voice carried – deep, and he didn't have to shout to be clearly heard.

"I'm sorry Master."

"Good, but you need to be punished."

Gabriel glanced at Sawyer, concerned.

He leaned in. "Don't worry. It's all a show. Probably."

Gabriel didn't know what to do with that. Was it fake? Just for the crowd? The boy looked scared enough, but he moved willingly into position when the big man guided him there.

Gabriel flinched when the first strike came. The room was still loud, but there was a bubble around the stage, where the audience was focused on what was happening. His own Master's hand went to his lower back, and he leaned against it, feeling the security it offered. He kept flinching, though, because the slap of the leather against skin sounded so sharp, and the boy's yelps sounded so pained.

Gabriel found himself settling into the rhythmic motion of the man on stage, and bit his lip at the bloom of hot pink flesh created by the flogger. He felt tight, poised and tense, watching the scene unfold.

He jumped again, at his Master's friend's big hand suddenly appearing on his thigh, and he looked to Sawyer again, eyes round.

"It's okay, darling. We're here to keep you safe."

He didn't feel especially safe from him – he thought he was the one called Master Greg, but he wasn't sure because the introductions had been fast and quiet.

The boy on stage was carried away in the arms of his Master, whimpering and pressing his face into the man's neck, but Master Greg didn't take his hand away until Sawyer pulled Gabriel away from him, onto his lap, while glaring at his friend with bared teeth.

"Did you like the show, my whore?" he asked Gabriel when the friend looked suitably chastised.

Gabriel hung his head, humiliated at Sawyer's cold words, heard by all his friends.

"I know you did. Your little cock is so hard, isn't it? Come on, show us how much you liked it."

A/N: to prevent confusion - the club is very definitely NOT La Maison

Hmm, a final bout of things getting worse before they get better (and they will). What do you think Sawyer will do that's the pinnacle of his evilness?