Year Zero

All characters are fictional and belong to other people with lots of layers and stuff. This is strictly for fun, no profit made, no harm , no foul, nothing worth suing for here. These are not the Pretenders you are looking for. I put them back when I was done with them.

Some of the dialogue and setting is directly taken from the episode “The Agent of Year Zero” and credit goes to the original teleplay author, Tommy Thompson. If they belonged to me, well, the show would be a LOT more interesting, not to mention still on the air.

“Well, the human mind is capable of almost anything to protect it’s host.” - Sydney -- Agent of Year Zero


Lyle slipped into the back of the limo and pulled the door behind him, expecting to see Mok waiting. He asked, “Driver, where’s the...” as the locks slammed shut, Jarod grinning evilly to himself in the drivers seat. Lyle pulled at the handle, demanding “What tell ell is this? Where’s Mok?” reaching across to check the other door, scanning for a means of escape and pissed as hell.

“I am sorry, Sir,” Jarod said, pulling up his cap and turning to Lyl Lyle, “but there’s been a slight change of plans.” As Lyle registered who was in the driver’s seat and reached forward, Jarod closed the bulletproof, black partition and drove them from the Centre in a squeal of burning rubber. His face was a mask of pure unadulterated hate, his eyes flas as as he drove Lyle to their first stop. The images of what Lyle had done to him again and again back at the Centre flashed through his head as he drove, each image perfect pain, each a crystal clear memory he can never leave behind. But today, Lyle was going to get a little payback, and it was going to be a bitch.

Lyle beat his fist against the partition, cursing. Fucking Jarod. I should have known I should have known I should have known he screamed inside his head. He quickly surveyed the limo to see what he could use as a weapon, he had not wanted to offend the Colonel by wearing a gun. Their bond warranted more respect than that. He hefted the crystal glass and waited. Jarod would have to come for him at some point, and he would be ready. His missing thumb itched, throbbing phantomly with the need to remove one of Jarod’s dark, angry eyes. He lost himself in thoughts of Lucy’s tender calves as he waited for Jarod to make his move.

Jarod pulled the limo into the warehouse and prepared himself, this would be the most difficult part. Lyle was fast, unpredictable and free in the back of the car. Jarod pulled out his gun and took a deep breath, then rolled down the partition. Lyle immediately threw the goblet at the windshield, it’s shards spraying over Jarod’s uniform as Lyle lunged forward to strangle him. Jarod pulled back against the drivers door as the partition came down, and clocked Lyle in the face, knocking him out. He never could keep his cool, Jarod thought with a dark laugh to himself. He hit the locks, opened his door and entered the back of the limo.

He quickly handcuffed Lyle and slipped a hood over his slack face, which was developing a lovely bruise. One of many he would have, as Jarod had simmed it so many times. He had been looking for an opportunity to make sure Lyle knew he remembered. He pushed Lyle down in the seat and drove to their final destination. He was right on schedule.

Jarod opened the door and hauled Lyle out of the car, pitching him up on his shoulder in an easy fireman’s carry. He took him down the stairs, draping the limp body on the chair in the middle of the cement slab, facing the wooden stairs. He uncuffed Lyle and stripped the jacket, tie and shirt from his body, binding his wrists to the arms of the padded chair. Jarod knelt and removed Lyle’s shoes and socks, tying his ankles together. He reached out and slipped the belt from Lyle’s trousers, sliding his fingers across the fabric, rubbing his unconscious prisoners crotch slowly, then stepped back to survey his handy work.

Lyle’s head lolled on his chest under the hood, his nipples erect in the cool basement air. Jarod circled him, feeling his cock stir as he looked at Lyle, LYLE his mind whispered, helpless. He took a deep breath, remembering all the times he had said it, over and over again, burned into his soul, “Anything for you....Mr....Lyle.” The times he had begged with those words, raged with those words, wept with those words, burned with shame from those words. Jarod felt his cock stir in his tiglacklack jeans, the sensitive flesh seared by the rough denim with each step. He continued to pace, wanting to savor the sensations before he began in earnest.

He reached out and popped Lyle behind the right ear, bringing him to consciousness. “You didn’t think I’d let you sleep through all the fun, now did you?” he asked in Lyle’s ear as he circled around to stand before him. Lyle struggled in the chair, disoriented, feeling the legs wobble on the uneven concrete floor. “Take this thing off of my head!” he snapped, his heart beginning to leap in his chest as he realized Jarod really had him. His voice was not as sure as he expected it to sound, and it bothered him.

“Oh, quit your whining!” Jarod hissed as he snatched the hood from Lyle’s face, folding it as Lyle took in his new surroundings, struggling against his bonds, flexing his chest and arms. “You won’t get away with this, they’ll be looking for me,” Lyle threatened.

“Meaning Colonel Thôn?” asked Jarod softly. Lyle jerked as if burned, his sneer shaken. Jarod cocked his head to admire the slight sheen of sweat that was beginning to appear on Lyle. He enjoyed watching that look of shock crawl across his face.

He turned toward the wash sink in the room, saying, “You didn’t think I was going to let you allow that genocidal maniac free in the world again, now did you?” He turned on the tap. “That’s a done deal,” snapped Lyle, with more confidence than he felt, struggling against the knots.

“Oh yes, that port commission thing,” Jarod replied, turning back to Lyle, and sitting on the edge of the sink. “Not a totally idiotic plan,” he began, crossing his arms with a slight smile. “You have your guy appointed to the port commission, and then you have an open pipeline to smuggle in heroin from southeast asia.”

“It’s just business,” answered Lyle, the small of his back suddenly clammy. Jarod knew a LOT more than he was supposed to already. “It’s just business,” Jarod replied, “with a man who butchered thousands of innocent people in cold blood.” The look on his face was complicated, but promising, a dark smile dancing is bis beautiful lips.

“You know my philosophy Jarod,” Lyle laughingly answered, turning his head to the side, his voice thickening, “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” He looked straight into Jarod’s eyes. “Besides, you and I both know you can’t show your face at that hearing, Miss Parker will have a small army waiting for you.” He looked away, burned by the emotion in Jarod’s suddenly sharp looking grin.

Jarod turned back to the sink, turning off the tap. “Oh, Miss Parker. Well, that could pose a quite a problem couldn’t it?” he asked Lyle, lifting the galvanized steel bucket from the basin and crossing the room. Lyle followed his captors hands with his eyes, a warm rivulet of fear churning in his gut. He remembered how Jarod had followed his hands, trying to anticipate what was to come when he had used him, how he had never been right as the blows fell in spite of his skills.

Jarod slid the bucket to the floor, grabbing Lyle’s feet with a sudden “Upsy-daisy,” putting them in the water, as it sloshed over the edge across the cement. Lyle stared at them, and slowly looked up at Jarod, who was standing over him, arms crossed with a smile on his face. “What do you want from me?” he asked.

“Time,” answered Jarod. The fabric of his black T-shirt rippled with his chest as he reached into his back pocket for his phone. Jarod slid up the antenna and began to enter a number. “I’m going to dial Miss Parker, you are going to tell her that you’ve captured me.” Lyle pulled against his bonds as he listened to Jarod’s instructions. He replaced the phone in his pocket, the number entered, and continued. “You are going to give her the address here.” Jarod turned, his ass cheeks flexing under the black denim, drawing Lyle’s attention back to his stirring cock. “She will come down those stairs,” reaching out to emphasize his point, “and trip this wire...” Jarod’s finger hit the tension line placed on the stairs, and a steel inner door dropped into the door frame, blocking the exit and making an ominous clang. Lyle jerked as the door slammed into place. Jarod had an ugly smile on his face. “I think you can guess the rest.” Lyle took a deep breath and tried to think. “If I refuse?” he asked, his guts beginning to feel heavy as he wondered what Jarod was up to. Jarod turned to face him, saying softly, “That’s not really an option.”

He bent down and pulled back the burlap that covered the car batteries and jumper cables connected on the floor. He tapped the clamps together a few times, sending ozone and sparks into the air. Lyle writhed and his stomach convulsed at the look on Jarod’s face, he licked his lips at the prospects the darkness implied. Jarod was lost in thought as he examined the clamps, amazed at how excited he was by the prospect of truly hurting Lyle.

He squatted down with the jumper cables, looking into Lyle’s face quietly, reading the shivers of perverse anticipation. Jarod spoke gently. “When you.... used to torture me at the Centre,” he began, as he attached the red clamp to the bucket, measuring his next words. Lyle lifted his feet from the water, looking at Jarod and feeling his ass clench in anticipation. “I had to apply a technique that I learned as a little boy,” Jarod continued, attaching the black lead to the other side. Lyle fought as gravity drew his feet back into the bucket. “To block out the physical pain, I had to go places, in my mind.” Jarod stopped, lost in thought for a moment, as if reliving some particularly painful second.

“You, on the other hand, have not perfected this particular survival teque.que.” He rose and turned, picking up a smaller bucket, flicking water from his fingertips onto Lyle’s torso as he circled, asking, “Have you?” He felt his cock throb in his jeans and he watched Lyle squirm before him. Lyle felt the panic rise in him as the droplets hit his body, his nipples stiff and his cock not far behind. Jarod stopped behind him, outside of his range of vision as he struggled against the ropes, trying to see what was coming next.

He twisted in his chair, excited by his lack of control. “You ...um,” he began, hyperventilating as Jarod dumped the bucket over his head, tossing it to the ground carelessly as the cold water ran down his body and pooling under his balls. He blew out the water that poured into his mouth, and shook his head, his shoulders twitching as his eyes followed Jarod’s every move. His cock dripped in anticipation as Jarod moved toward the black bag on the floor.

Jarod went to his bag and withdrew an ominous looking black rod. He held it up, admiring its sleek lines, then pressed the trigger. A snapping sound and the smell of ozone filled the air as the current rolled up the shaft in angry blue sparks, tamed lightening. Jarod now had his complete attention.
“Intimidating, isn’t it?” Jarod asked, gazing at the prod as he continued. “I took it off this rancher in Montana who was abusing his cattle.” Lyle was breathing harder now, pushing against the back of the chair, his face glazing over in the sudden need for Jarod to hurt him.

“I know, continued Jarod, “you’re thinking, it’s not the same thing.” There was a dark laugh in that statement that struck Lyle to the core. “You’re right. The cattle didn’t deserve it.” He pointed the prod at Lyle and reached into his pocket for the phone, waving the two options before him. “Shall we make that phone call?” Jarod asked as he hit the trigger on the cattle prod again.

Lyle licked his lips and considered his options, and his desires. Jarod snapped forward with the prod, striking Lyle just as he pulled his feet from the water. The smell of ozone and his scream echoed as his body twitched, hot fire boiling down his nerves. Jarod’s cock jerked in his jeans, throbbing with need as he hit Lyle again, brushing the contact against his left nipple, gratified by the screams and the bulge in Lyle’s soaked trousers.

Lyle whimpered in his throat as Jarod ran his hands over his chest, then down to the painful erection in his pants. He slipped the cattle prod into his back pocket, the phone dropped and forgotten for the moment as he pulled open Lyle’s trousers. He grinned as Lyle lifted up his ass to assist him in freeing his cock from it’s prison.

“I’d hoped we would have a chance to, shall we say, relive old times?” Jarod said, reaching out to pull on the swollen and blistering nipple, dragging the top layers of skin off and sending lymph and blood running down Lyle’s chest. He bit nearly through his lip from the pain, thrusting his body up against the ropes, rubbing himself against the rough fibers, whimpering with need and terror in the back of his throat.

“Oh yes, Lyle, I remember what you did.” He slowly massaged Lyle’s sac, rolling his testicles in his palms as he spoke to him. “How you made me beg you to violate me in Renewal, how you reveled in my humiliation.” Jarod closed his hand around the flesh in his hand and began to squeeze, pulling Lyle forward to strain against the bindings on the chair. “You know what I want to hear you say.” He squeezed and pulled harder, bracing the chair with his foot, straining the tender skin as Lyle writhed and keened beneath him.

Lyle’s lower lip trembled as he looked up at Jarod, grateful and burning. “Anything.....” he gasped as Jarod suddenly let his bruising sac drop from his hands. ‘Anything you want, Jarod.” Jarod smiled like an angel, and stung his right nipple with the cattle prod, bringing another inarticulate scream from Lyle’s strained throat.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked, digging his nails in as he twisted the skin from the raw nerves of Lyle’s newest wound. “I can’t seem to hear you!” Jarod roared. Lyle screamed again, bucking against the ropes and Jarod’s unrelenting fingers, twisting, pulling, clawing at him.
He took a gasping breath and tried again. “Anything you want, Jarod, I’ll do anything you want.” Jarod stepped away and retrieved the phone. “Please, Jarod, don’t stop, we can call after.” He raised his legs from the bucket again, bending his knees to flash his anus at Jarod.

Jarod laughed and zapped Lyle’s thigh, bringing another satisfying scream. He wished he had more time to play, but he did have that hearing to get to, and reluctantly put down the cattle prod. He ran one hand over the curves of Lyle’s skull, caressing his neck and jaw as he hit the send button with the other.

Parker and Sydney sat in his office, talking. “Some of their internal organs,” Parker paused, her face a mask of horror and disgust, “we’re...removed.” Sydney was waiting to see if there was more she needed to say when her phone rang. He had been more aware of the acts her twin was capable of than she was, clearly. She looked physically ill as she whipped the phone from the table and snapped, “What?” into the mouthpiece. She sat bolt upright. “Are you sure?” she asked, an odd tone in her voice. Sydney looked at her, then rose to his feet as she began scribbling, saying “I hear you,” into the phone. She paused, then answered, “I’m on.. my.. way.” and hung up.

“That was Lyle,” she said to Sydney as she snatched the note up and grabbed her glass from the table, her throat suddenly dry. He turned to her as she said, “He’s captured Jarod.” Sydney looked at her with some confusion and concern for his protege, but followed her to the door and out of his office, their previous disturbing conversation in the forefront of both their minds.

Jarod closed the line and smiled evilly down at Lyle, absently flicking at Lyle’s crusted and weeping nipples before turning to the issue at hand. “That was very good Lyle,” he sighed as he unzipped his fly, easing his swollen cock from his jeans. He began stroking himself as Lyle whimpered and licked his lips. “Anything for you, Jarod,” he breathed, trying to lean forward and catch the glistening drop of pre-cum with his tongue as it flowed from Jarod’s piss slit.

Jarod laughed and jerked the chair back toward the wall, dragging Lyle from the bucket and it’s current. He tilted the chair against the wall, catching Lyle’s bound ankles in one hand and reaching under his ass to drag him to the edge of the chair. Lyle shifted and moaned, trapping his hard shaft between his belly and the rope across his stomach as Jarod dragged him forward. He bent forward, pushing Lyle’s legs higher with his chest as he placed the head of his cock at Lyle’s opening. A high wavering sound escaped from Lyle as his body was trapped under Jarod’s weight.

Jarod closed his eyes and flashed through all the moments of agony and shame Lyle had caused him to feel in his life. He jerked to his senses suddenly, and rammed himself into Lyle’s ass, howling as he tore his way into him. He began to growl in his throat as his head slipped past the prostate gland, reveling in the tight, hot and helpless man he was invading.

Lyle screamed and arced, trapped between Jarod’s body and the restraints, feeling his ass lubricating with his own blood as Jarod thrust in him feverishly. He settled into a rocking rhythm in counterpoint to Jarod’s pistoning hips, his cock cut by the rope as pre-cum dripped down his belly. He gave into the sensations, letting Jarod use him as he had used Jarod in the past, feeling a kinship in the pain they had suffered at each others hands. He felt his balls boiling as he realized he was babbling mindlessly “Anything for you, Jarod, AnythingforyouJarod,anythingforyou,” and shot on their chests in thick cables. His ass spasmed around Jarod’s cock at his deepest, sending him into ecstasy, pumping deep in Lyle, turning the tables and being the one shuddering only in pleasure and satisfaction.

Jarod sighed, his entire body quivering, and dropped to his knees, his spent manhood slipping from Lyle’s abused body. He jerked the chair level to the floor, drawing one last lingering whimper from Lyle as his body fell forward his bloody and ragged cock oozing against his leg. Jarod rose and recovered himself, wiping the mixture of cum, blood and shit from himself on what was left of Lyle’s shirt. He readjusted and then cleaned Lyle up a little, replacing his pants and gagging him before leaving him ait ait for Miss Parker.

Just at the top of the stairs he turned and looked down at Lyle one last time, drawing the sex drenched air deep into his lungs. Wonder what Parker will make of that, thought Jarod. Or Sydney? another part of his mind whispered. “Do unto others can be a real pain in the ass, eh, Lyle? He smiled, but his eyes were dark and flat. “Anything for me, Lyle, remember? Anything for me.” Lyle looked at his feet, squirming in his tortured flesh and knowing his sister would be here soon.

Pretty, pretty Parker. Won’t you come out to play? he sang softly to himself as he waited.