Broke and Bound: House of Vitali Box Set

by Renard, Loki

  “You’ve known pain, boy.” Angelo ran the tip of the crop over the scarring which was largely hidden on Damien’s belly. The surgeon had done a good job of sewing him back together in a way that followed the natural contours of his belly, and time had turned what were thick ugly marks into thin lines - but Angelo knew what they were, because Angelo knew everything.

  “Yeah,” Damien said. “A bit.”

  “You might think it’s ridiculous to torment you like this.” Angelo reached down and gave a light tug on the chain between the nipple clamps, sending more zaps of pleasure right to Damien’s dick. He was starting to get aroused, even though he really didn’t want to. He wanted to keep his desire between him and Mark, but this was confusing. Mark was right there, and Angelo was somehow part of him now.

  Had he ever really known Mark? Probably not. In Afghanistan they were little more than overgrown horny teenagers. And in the last few weeks, playing happy families, Damien had sensed there was something behind Mark’s eyes. Angelo had never really left the room. He had always been there with them. Maybe Mark was right. Maybe there was no point in resisting. Maybe Angelo really did always win.

  “What are you thinking, boy?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t just want your body. I want your mind. Tell me what thoughts hide behind those pretty eyes.”

  “I…” Damien hesitated. “I thought you’d hurt me more.”

  “You thought I’d beat you. I will, soon enough,” Angelo smiled. “Something tells me you’re the sort of boy who will need a good beating or two to keep him in line. But I do not engage in cruelty for cruelty’s sake. I do what is necessary for each of my boys. Mark is such a good boy he barely requires punishment at all.”

  Damien looked over and saw Mark blush. Jealousy flowered in his chest.

  “Mark is mine.”

  “Possessiveness won’t work with me, boy,” Angelo flicked the crop sharply against the inside of Damien’s thigh. “You all belong to me.”

  The sharp sting didn’t hurt a whole lot, but it made Angelo’s point for him. Damien’s body was no longer his own.

  “I know this isn’t what you’re used to,” Angelo purred. “You like to shove your cock in a hole, cum and be done. But that’s not how we do things here. You’re going to learn to give pleasure and take pain before this night is done.”

  He ran the crop down between Damien’s legs, where the little leather tongue found the sensitive bud of his anus. Damien blushed furious red as Angelo began to slap him there, the leather striking his bottom hole over and over with stinging swats which became increasingly more intense the longer he let the leather lash.

  Crying out in pain was not an option, but Damien couldn’t hide the way his body was responding to the shameful stimulation. It hurt. But it was hot. And his dick was getting harder by the second, like some fucked up sex toy inflated with tap after tap of the leather stimulating what felt like the very core of him.

  Mark captured Damien’s mouth in a deep kiss as Angelo’s crop left his asshole and ran along the thickening shaft of Damien’s cock. The pleasure was where the danger was. Pain could easily be resisted. Hate was easy, but Angelo was toying with his affections, manipulating the very chemistry of his mind.

  “You were a very bad boy,” Angelo purred. “And you were out of your league from the beginning. You should have let me go, Damien. None of this had to happen.”

  Mark broke the kiss and Damien took a deep breath.

  “Please,” he said one more time. “Let me go.”

  “Let you go? Why? So you can lurk in urinals and waylay other men?” Angelo smirked, his eyes dark with perfect triumph.

  “I won’t do that. I won’t…” Damien gritted his teeth. “I won’t come for you again.”

  “You don’t even believe that,” Angelo laughed. “The secret to telling a convincing lie is to believe it yourself. But I will untie you, boy, because there’s something that’s long overdue. Mark, loosen his bonds. And Damien, don’t you dare make so much as a move. If you so much as twitch a finger without my permission, I’ll leave you tied here for a week.”

  Damien had no difficulty believing that. He nodded swiftly, and felt a wave of relief as the ropes were loosened from around his wrists and ankles.

  Angelo reached down, grabbed him by his hair, and pulled him off the table before pushing him down to his knees in front of Mark, who seemed to know what was coming, because he unzipped his fly and pulled out his very erect dick.

  Damien felt a pulse of arousal run through him. Mark had always had a nice cock, but Damien had never lowered himself to actually taking it before. He’d always thought that might make him, well… fully gay. That didn’t make sense, and yet it did.

  “Suck his cock,” Angelo commanded, his hand still scruffed in Damien’s hair. “You’ve never taken him in your mouth even once, have you Sergeant? You always wanted him on his knees…” he laughed at Damien’s expression. “Oh yes, I know about you, Sergeant Colt. My boys tell me everything. I knew who you were the moment you told me your name. And I knew who you were really coming for. Now you have him, don’t you?”

  Damien opened his mouth to retort, and Angelo pushed his head forward so his lips were wrapped around Mark’s cock. The hard shaft plunged into Damien’s mouth.

  This was sex as he had never experienced it before. This was degrading. Humiliating. This was… fucking hot. His dick was like iron against his belly.

  “Keep sucking,” Angelo instructed as he let go of Damien’s hair.

  SWISH… WHAP!

  A leather belt landed across Damien’s ass, bringing with it a hot flash of pain. He yowled around Mark’s cock. It wasn’t a one off slap. It was a full beating, Angelo making good on his promise that Damien would one day feel his leather. As much as it hurt, it stoked his arousal.

  There was something to this dark, twisted, filthy sex. Something alluring. Something that tempted him to just give in, forget himself and his priorities and simply become a slave to Angelo’s will. Damien fought the urge with all he had.

  Mark’s cock stiffened and twitched and Damien knew he was about to take a mouthful of cum. It was only fair, really. In Afghanistan all those years ago, Mark had taken dozens and dozens of loads of his, and even more recently in their sporadic sex, Mark had been the willing recipient. This was karma in the form of cum, and as Damien had anticipated, it soon came spilling into his mouth, pushed down the back of his throat by Mark’s insistent strokes.

  Mark pulled out, a sated expression in his bright blue eyes and smiled down at Damien with a broad, approving expression which made Damien melt from the inside. So this was what it was like to submit. It wasn’t as painful as he’d imagined it would be, though the taste was going to take some getting used to.

  “Very good,” Angelo smirked. “That’s an excellent start. Next time, it will be my cock.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything in my mouth you don’t want to lose,” Damien said, attempting to regain composure and some kind of status.

  “Mark, hand me that gag,” Angelo said, his voice short and clipped.

  Mark grabbed it off a nearby counter and gave it to Angelo. It was a circular structure, wide enough to hold the teeth apart and to allow a cock to pass through the center of the ring. Angelo dangled it in front of Damien’s eyes.

  “Apologize for threatening me, or this goes in and I use it right now and then have Bobby take a turn too. We’ll turn your stomach into a swimming pool for our sperm.”

  “I’m sorry,” Damien mumbled. Fuck. It galled him so deeply to apologize to Angelo Vitali. It made him feel as though the bile in his stomach was literally boiling. Taking Mark’s dick was one thing, but the thought of having Angelo inside him was fucking unthinkable. Angelo knew that too, and Damien could tell by the look in Angelo’s eye that sooner or later, it was going to happen.

  “Good boy,” Angelo smirked, taking a step to toss the gag back off to the side.

  Ange
lo still walked with a slight limp, Damien noted with no small measure of satisfaction. He had made his mark on Vitali. But it wasn’t enough. Angelo was stronger than he had ever been. And that meant there was just one thing left to do.

  19

  “Another Vitali?”

  “Another Vitali,” Angelo confirmed.

  Mark had taken Damien to bed. The man was exhausted, and they were only getting started with him. He would need his rest to endure what Angelo had planned, days and days of erotic training, designed to break him down until he was horrified at the very idea of ever having tried to cross Angelo.

  “Four of us,” Bobby complained. “It’s starting to get crowded. And everyone keeps ranking above me. It’s not fair. I was here first, I should have seniority.”

  Angelo took Bobby’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and gazed deep into his eyes. “I need you to hear me, Bobby, and understand what I’m about to say.”

  Bobby curled up against Angelo’s chest and gazed into his eyes.

  “You saved me, boy. When I needed you, you were there. Don’t ever think you’re less than these others. You’re my heart. And I know, one of these days, you’re going to take me out.”

  Angelo kissed Bobby deeply. “We’ve come a long way, boy, and there’s a lot further to go, but no matter how many men we recruit, you’re the first among them. You’re my boy. Understand?”

  Bobby smiled and nuzzled under Angelo’s chin. Angelo smiled.

  “You are the first among all my men. I may put Mark in charge now. I may even find a use for Damien at some point. But that is for good reason, boy. I want you raised right. I want you having the influence of these men around you, so when it comes time for you to take my place - however that happens, you’ll be ready. Understand?”

  Bobby nodded a little. “I just don’t know if I should believe you or not.”

  “That’s always the difficulty,” Angelo smiled. “But believe me, boy. You have a long future ahead of you. You…”

  BLAM!

  A gun shot echoed through the room. Angelo dived, taking Bobby with him, protecting him in his arms. Fortunately, the heavy oak desk was between them and their assailant. As Angelo dropped he saw Damien standing in the doorway, his arms raised in a shooter’s stance.

  Bobby tried to wriggle out of Angelo’s grip, go for his gun, but Angelo pinned him on the carpet. “Stay down,” he insisted. He knew Mark wouldn’t be far behind Damien, and he was right.

  A second later, Mark tackled Damien from behind and a struggle ensued, their muscular bodies rolling in desperate attempts to wrestle the gun from one another.

  “Let it go!” Mark shouted. “Don’t be fucking stupid!”

  “Stop it!” Damien screamed back. “I have to do this!”

  “No you don’t! Let it go!”

  It was going to end badly. Someone was going to get hurt. Angelo dragged Bobby away behind the desk as far as possible to reduce the chances it was one of them who caught the nearly inevitable bullet.

  BLAM!

  The gun went off again. Angelo didn’t see who it hit, but he saw blood spraying instantly across the room as if a paint bomb had been detonated. Except this was bright arterial blood, and when he put his head up, he saw that it was gushing from Damien’s mid-section.

  Angelo breathed a sigh of relief.

  * * *

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Mark tried to staunch the flow of blood, but there was too much. How had this all gone so wrong so quickly? One moment he was in the bathroom trying to take a shit, the next Damien was gone.

  “Again,” Damien coughed blood. “That’s the second time…I’ve been hurt after a blowjob.” He tried to force a smile. “I think they’re bad… luck.”

  “Why did you do that?” Mark’s eyes filled with tears. He knew he was losing the most beautiful thing in the world, for a stupid, pointless reason. The rag he had pushed to Damien’s stomach was soaking through and the color was draining from Damien’s face. It all happened so quickly. In seconds, Damien went from someone just as strong and powerful as Mark to a limp, nearly lifeless mass of meat on the floor.

  “He has to die, Mark,” Damien whispered, his final breath hoarse and pained.

  Mark collapsed on Damien’s body, his flesh wracked with a kind of misery he couldn’t begin to express except in a low keening cry which echoed off the walls. This couldn’t be how this ended. Damien had been making fucking pasta a few hours ago. If he’d just let Bobby go, Damien would still be there, in the kitchen, making that goddamn shitty pasta he insisted on putting tomato sauce on.

  “Mark…” Angelo stood up across the room.

  His voice sent Mark into an almost immediate rage. He wasn’t thinking straight. He wasn’t thinking at all. He was just so damn angry.

  “You did this,” Mark snarled, his face coated in Damien’s blood. “You killed him.”

  The gun was still on the ground. It still had bullets in it. Damien was right. Angelo did deserve to die. It was only right. It….

  “Not so fast, boy.” Angelo strode across the room and stood on the back of Mark’s arm, crushing it before he could pick up the gun. It fucking hurt like hell, but Mark didn’t care.

  “I’m sorry he died,” Angelo said, his voice cool and calm. “He was a brave man and that was a waste, but it was what he came here to do.”

  “Let’s get the rug rolled up before his blood soaks into the floorboards,” Bobby said, immediately practical. “Disposal is already on their way.” Bobby pushed past Mark, ignoring him and his pained arm. There was work to be done, and it was clear that Bobby had never given a single shit about Damien in the first place.

  Just like that, a man’s life had ended. A man Mark had loved, or at least, really wanted to love. Angelo retrieved the gun and moved off Mark’s arm.

  Mark was left sitting on the floor, coated in blood and cradling his arm as Bobby started rolling Damien’s still warm body over and over into a corpse burrito.

  The End

  “This isn’t how it was supposed to end.”

  Three days later, Mark had still not come to terms what had happened that fateful night. Damien’s death played through his mind over and over. He wished he’d done something different, though he didn’t know what, exactly. Never been born, maybe. All was misery. He sat on his bed, staring out the window at the garden, feeling hollow all the way to his core.

  “That was exactly how it was always going to end,” Angelo said gently as he came into the room. He had been a pretty much constant presence since Damien passed away. Mark was pretty sure Angelo was worried about him doing something stupid.

  Angelo put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Damien knew what he was risking when he went up against me. He had a choice. Even at the end. But he stayed his path.”

  “You did this to him!” Mark turned around, his eyes full of tears. “This is your fault!

  “I didn’t send him on a mission of murder. He told me what he had intended for me at the outset, when we were in the warehouse. He told me he’d make me pay for everything. He tried. He tried to take you, Bobby, my freedom. And in the end, he tried to take my life. He was doing his job, Mark. And he did it damn well. Better than any who have come before him. But don’t cry for him. He was chosen because he had history with you. He used you, Mark.”

  “No!”

  “It’s time you saw this.”

  Angelo pulled out his phone, opened a social media feed and showed Mark a picture. The profile belonged to a very pretty blonde woman named Mandy Colt. As soon as Mark saw the last name, his stomach started to churn. As Angelo swiped, he saw Damien and the woman together at parties, on the beach, taking silly selfies at brunch, and then worst of all - the woman herself in a hospital bed, holding a newborn. Damien was beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. In later pictures the baby was grown, and had those unmistakable blue green eyes.

  “He was a special agent for a government agency known only as Unit Alpha,” Angelo explain
ed gently. “He was living as a straight man. That apartment you were living in was a government place. There were cameras in every room. The whole place was mic’ed. He was never going be with you, or with us. This was a game to him, and he played it better than anyone I’ve ever met. Don’t mourn him, Mark. Be proud of him.”

  “Be proud of him? For lying to me about everything?” Mark felt more sick than ever. “Be proud that he didn’t even get a funeral?”

  “For being a man capable of doing the things he did. It doesn’t matter how his life ended. It mattered how he led it, and he did some remarkable things in his time.”

  “You’re fucked up,” Mark said bitterly, looking at the smiling woman and the baby she was holding. “But if this is true, then so was he.”

  “It’s true,” Angelo said calmly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I’m sorry he played with your mind and your heart.”

  “You play with my mind and heart.”

  “Not like that. My affection for you is real. I intend to keep you around.”

  Angelo drew Mark into an embrace. “I am sorry,” he repeated. “I know you wanted Damien to become one of us. I know you wanted a life with him, but that was never going to happen. At least you got a few honest hours with him at the end.”

  “You mean at least I got to fuck his mouth?” Mark managed a half smirk as he pulled away from Angelo’s embrace. “Jesus, Angelo.”

  “Silver linings,” Angelo smirked. “I wanted it to work out, but when he pulled that gun…”

  “I know,” Mark sighed, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. “It was over. Really it was over the moment you met him in that courthouse bathroom. He should never have come anywhere near you.”

  “True,” Angelo said. “Now, I know you’re going to be in mourning for some time, but Bobby is being a prize pain in the ass. Would you like to be a pain in his?”