Page 49 of Designation: Null

A bolt of emotion goes through him, fear and misery that resembles something like excitement because he’s going to go back to his apartment and do something dangerous. Familiar. He’s bleeding and hurting and he’s still got all this energy that needs to come out, should ooze from his pores and skin like poison. He sucks the blood off his knuckles and heads for the door. There’s a missed call from Robert on his phone.

He ignores it. Logan doesn’t need a babysitter. He doesn’t need pity. He goes to his closet and takes everything out. Logan’s going to make amess.He’s going to be lightheaded and bright with agony. He wants to go too far and see what happens. The urge to really, really hurt himself is enough to make him giggle. The urge is so strong that he feels strong, too. This is control.

This is power.

This is what he deserves. Left to his own devices, Logan will always make a mess of himself.

He starts with pills because he wants to be hard. He’s got Viagra. Logan downs them with a few sips of water. He’s got muscle relaxers and he takes those too, so he’ll be floaty and tired. And then there’s the drugs that enhance sensation and touch because he wants to be absolutely overwhelmed.

God, Robert would be horrified.

He gets the stool and the vampire gloves, gets his horrible flogger. He touches himself with the glove, first with the back which is all soft leather, and then runs the tiny metal tips along the shaft of his half-hard cock. He shivers.

There it is.

He’s getting hard.

Logan moans in relief, spreading his legs wider. He sets his hand into the flesh of his rock-hard cock and groans at how much it hurts.

Tears fill his eyes. He wishes Robert was there to hold him, to wipe away the tears and tell him he’s good.

Nothing about this is good. Robert wouldn’t be happy. Shame explodes inside of him and that is unendurable. Pain is better than shame.

Quickly, he puts small metal clips with sharp teeth all along his perineum and forces himself to sit down on the stool. A wave of black and red pain consumes him. He loses time to the excruciating agony of sitting on the hard surface.

He has no idea how long that goes on for, but he hears himself whimpering and his voice is now hoarse. Did he hear sobbing? Wasn’t that him?

Robert would—

Logan picks up the flogger. He cannot think of that man. It is perverse to even think about someone so good when he is doing this to himself. Disgusting.

He is disgusting. And that makes it easier to land the first blow. The flogger does it’s work.

There’s blood everywhere.

The room stinks of it. He stinks of it. And then it all goes wrong. He can feel the mood turning. The arousal wilts even with all the pills in his system. His tears become racking sobs. He wants to get off the stool but he deserves the pain, deserves what’s coming to him. This is what he wanted so now he’s going to get it, and he can’t quit now like some pathetic child.

Logan hits himself on the back, getting so lost to the horrible agony of the thing he is that he doesn’t hear the knocking on his door.

He does hear the banging.

“You open up this fucking door and let me know you’re alright or I will break it down, do you hear me?” Robert yells, fist slamming into the wood.

“I-I’m fine,” he calls weakly, and drops the flogger. He’s shaking. What time is it? Logan lets go of his cock and takes off the glove. He can’t get to his feet. He crawls out of the bedroom so Robert will hear him easier. “I’m fine,” he tries again.

“Open the door. I need to see you!” Robert snarls.

Logan clears his throat and wipes his face. Fuck, he’s covered in blood, that isn’t going to help. “I’m fine. Go away.”Please.

“I don’t believe you. Open the door. Let me see.”

“No. It’s not your business. I’m fine. Please leave,” he says, and he shouldn’t have said please because it makes him so weak inside to say that word. He whimpers at how soft and sweet it is. It makes him want to be held. He could die with how much he wants to say please to Robert.

“Logan. It smells like blood,” Robert says quietly. “I can’t leave you like this. Please open the door, honey,” he coaxes gently.

“Go away!” Logan yells, terrified he’ll say yes if Robert keeps going. And then Robert will see him like this and he’ll be disgusted. He gets blood in his eye as he tries to wipe at his face. He is pathetic. Useless. Utterly hopeless. “I can’t see you. Not tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll come in tomorrow!”

There’s a long pause, probably as Robert is deciding what to do.

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