– What was that Ray?
– Models, Ray goes, – what’s aw this models shite?
– Aw, that’s what the local screws call the laddies they send him. Usually young pretty boys, early twenties . . . like this one here. I swivel and point at Ocky, who’s now just a quivering wreck. No such a smart cunt now. – Ah’d say that you were an identikit model, I tell him. – See, the boys that get pit oan The Beast’s wing are usually rapists rather than stoat-the-baws. They git a wee bit too carried away and cannae hear the word ‘No’ fae a lassie. Well, they git plenty ay opportunity tae practise that word wi The Beast; they can try oot aw the permutations ay pitch, tone and volume, but see The Beast? Well, he’s goat that selective deefness n aw. N fact he’s goat it bad.
Ray smiles at the young tube. – Bet ye eh enjoys the resistance. Likes tae see the boys struggle.
– Six fit four ay solid muscle. Hung like a fuckin hoarse. Legendary. Always splits thum the first time; even they wee Calton Hill rent boys they feed him, and these boys are used tae takin loads ay hard meat.
– Phoa! Makes ma eyes water tae think aboot it! Ray gasps.
– But the wardens indulge The Beast tae fuck like. They’ve goat a selection ay wigs, dresses n make up so that he can dress the models up as he likes. He gies them their names: usually French sounding ones: Juliette, Justine, Celestine, Monique an aw ay that. They reckon eh gits them fi the go-go’s at the Bermuda Triangle in Tollcross. This yin here though, ah pucker ma lips at Ocky, – he’d be a Christine.
– How’s that? Ray goes, letting his mouth go moronically loose, and I realise that I am too, as we’re enjoying the twisted but undeniable sexuality which is part and parcel of the complete dominance over another human being. This is one of the things which makes poliswork such a satisfying career.
– Blonde hair, I say, slowly and softly.
– Aw aye, Ray picks up, – ah heard aboot that. When he gits a blonde he always calls them Christine. They say it wis tae dae wi his wife. They tell ays that ehs much mair possessive towards blondes.
– It’s fuckin oot ay order really, but that’s the system, eh?
– This is the perennial problem wi the system Robbo. A dustbin for society, for everything it cannae or willnae deal wi. Thing is but, ye’d find oot a lot aboot yersel n that situ, like. Banged up wi The Beast. Phew!
– Ah cannae imagine a worse fate.
– Might find oot things aboot yirsel ye’d rather no find oot, Ray notes sombrely. Ocky’s done, we’ve broken him. We just need to rub his face in it a little bit more before reassembling him with several modifications in the psychic specification, in order that he does our bidding.
– Well one thing’s certain: ye dae a stint n thaire wi that monster, ye come oot a changed man, I smile.
– That’s if ye come oot at aw. They tell ays ehs chalked up a couple ay suicides over the years.
– Aye, and another young laddie went and hung ehsel eftir a few months oan the ootside. That experience changes a cunt. Defo, I snap at the terrified tube, who springs back from future hell to present hell.
– Maybe the guy would’ve done it anyway; a spastic, a fuckin common criminal. Whaes tae say?
– The Beast though man, daein time wi that would tip the fuckin scales. No think so Ocky? Help! Help! they shout at the wardens, those poor models. No that it does any good.
– So ah’ve heard Robbo, Ray grins.
The wee cunt sits there shivering. He’s ours. He always has been.
– They tell me that he’s HIV now. Dae they isolate the cunt though? I ask rhetorically.
– Dae they fuck, Ray replies.
– Effectively then, it’s a death sentence for any cunt in that cell wi him.
– Effectively, aye. That’s what it boils doon tae, Ray shrugs.
– I know that it sounds grim, but that’s only the one choice but, eh Ocky? Thir’s ways and means, I kid you not, my sweet, sweet friend, I say softly, cupping the terrorised cunt’s face in my hands. – I know your whole life’s been flashing in front ay ye, but aw that’s just the worst-case scenario. Anyway, I twist the spastic’s heid so that he’s facing Ray Lennox who’s smiling like a department store Santa Claus. – Uncle Ray here’ll tell ye what ye have tae dae tae stey oot ay The Beast’s vile clutches. Think ay him as your knight in shining armour.
Ray winks at him, then snaps his fingers and starts singing, – I feel a song comin on . . .
Ah feel the horn comin on. Stephanie Donaldson. Steph-fanny Donaldson. – I, in the meantime, shall go and check oan that wee drug-dealing slut ay a girlfriend ay yours Ocky. Honestly, the company you keep. Mind you, it’ll no be the first time that posh fanny’s dragged a good man down. Huv tae watch whaire ye pit that dick. Thir’s eywis strings, I wink, departing to the bedroom.
When I’m back through, she’s up and dressed and sitting on the bed.
– Well, well little miss, have we had time to think about our position? I ask. Ah’ll show the wee fuck a few positions awright. Startin oaf wi fuckin doggy-style.
– Please don’t tell anyone . . . I don’t want my father to know. He mustn’t know, she’s begging.
– I’ll have to charge you with possession and intent to supply. Of course, as a minor, it’s likely that you won’t receive a custodial sentence, but you will have to appear in court. What school do you go to?
– John Gilzean’s . . . she bleats piteously.
– Well, I’m sure that such a reputable school will take disciplinary action. I will, of course be forced to inform them, and also your parents. Ecstasy is a very dangerous drug.
– Please don’t tell my father . . . please . . . he’s a barrister. It would be terrible for us . . .
Donaldson. Of course! – Your father isn’t Conrad Donaldson, is he? I can feel my spirits lifting and I’m sure that my cock has never been as big in my pants before.
– Yes, she says, her eyes lighting up hopefully.
Oh ya fucker! Mister Fuckin Smug Cunt himself! Bingo! His offspring right here on Bruce Robertson’s plate! A small world, a small city. God bless Edina, Scotia’s darling seat! I clear my throat; lust and the prospect of revenge had furred it over. – Listen doll, I’m going tell him. As of now, I’m going to tell him. Whether or not I actually end up doing so is entirely up to you, but as of now, I am.
– Please . . . I’ll do anything . . . don’t tell him! she squeaks.
– Well, I’ll tell you how it’s going to be. You listening to me? Because I’ll say this once. Okay?
She looks up and nods slowly at me. I can’t see much of Donaldson in her. I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad.
– You suck my cock and we’re square. And you suck it good. Okay?
She’s looking at the floor. Her shoulders are shaking.
– Okay, nae deal. Stephanie Donaldson, you are charged with possession of a controlled substance, with intent to supply. You have the right to . . .
– No! No! Please!
I’m smiling down at the posh wee fucker. – Come on baby. End this nightmare. End it all wi a wee suck, I say softly. – Your wee scumbag boyfriend, dinnae tell me you huvnae done the biz wi him. One cock’s much the same as another. A few minutes ay your sweet wee heid and the nightmare is over. You walk oot ay here. We’re square. See if you dinnae fuckin play ball? The school and Daddy hear all about it.
A mining family. Ha! I come from a lot dirtier, filthier places than doon a fuckin pit, as this wee tart’s aboot tae find oot.
– Alright . . . she says, making the contract. A verbal agreement will do nicely. It might not be worth the paper it’s written on but you cannae very well take a blow-job back once it’s been given.
– Good girl. Fair exchange is no robbery. Why involve the state doll? Why cause all the nasty paperwork? I smile as I unzip. It flies oot like a fuckin jack-in-the-box. – Suck me baby . . . I whisper, – Suck Robbo here real good.