<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Neigel was staring at Chrys, watching him scoot away until he'd backed himself into a corner, pitifully trying to cover his exposed genitals. Once he'd gotten the situation under control the anger was removed from his face, set instead with an impassive gaze. At least until Chrys started talking again, drawing his own conclusions into what must have really occurred between him and his father. His brows drew together, and he came close, kneeling in front of the young man. <br/>
<br/>
“Your father had many affairs in the military, but yes, I was his main one. The most torrid. It wasn't as if my affections were unrequited. Ron loved <i>me </i>just as much as I loved him. He loved his perfect lifestyle more; didn't want to admit to the world his desires. Cowardly, yes, you're right.” But did he get tossed away? <br/>
<br/>
“I lost respect for <i>him</i> after what he did. I don't think he could look me in the face afterward either. That's where our relationship went wrong. Along with the fact that he had a wife waiting for him at home, though you don't know <i>how</i> many times he told me he would leave her.” Niegel could have probably overlooked that if Ron had just done <i>something</i> to show that he was willing to fight for him. <br/>
<br/>
“I am no victim. I knew perfectly well what I was getting into.”<br/>
<br/>
Neigel didn't hesitate to slap that look of pity right off of Chrys' face. He was tired of people looking at him like that; like he was a victim. Whether Niegel was in denial or not, he stood by what he said, and what he believed. <br/>
<br/>
“Ron will always love me. He just can't deal with his guilty conscience, and I can't ever forgive him.” <br/>
<br/>
Niegel shook his head, sliding Chrys out of the corner like a hooked fish. <br/>
<br/>
“I was lost a long time ago. I don't care to try and salvage the remains of my life. I'm too angry. <i>This</i> makes me feel better, and that's all I want at this point,” he told him. Nothing ever helped. Not the counseling, the medication, or the idea that time would heal all wounds. <br/>
<br/>
“It's a shame. You seem like a good kid. I told you, it's nothing personal. It has everything to do with your father. You'll be the last person I ever torture.” He dumped Chrys on the floor in front of the bed, not helping him past that point. <br/>
<br/>
“Climbed up and lean over the bed, on your stomach. Keep your pants around your ankles,” Niegel tested, wondering if Chrys was done getting the tar beat out of him. His orders were calm and direct. Some men found direct orders hard to ignore, especially when fear was involved, even if the prospect of what Chrys thought was to come was unpleasant. He didn't know what stuff the kid was made out of, but he wanted to find out. He found he liked that Chrys was a bit resistant to him because it meant that he had more to change about him. More to break, and his misery would be that much more potent.</span></span>