Perfect Evil

by Loki Renard

Bobby took a plug, similarly dark and marked with metal on the base and smiled more broadly than Mark had ever seen him smile before.

  “This is going inside you,” Bobby said. “Spread your legs and lay back.”

  Suddenly, Bobby wasn’t the submissive he had been yesterday. Suddenly he was just as powerful as Angelo, drawing power from the master. Mark’s impulse to refuse was significantly tempered by Angelo’s dark stare. He had no doubt that to refuse this would be to make matters much, much worse for himself.

  Mark weighed his total lack of options, then spread his thighs.

  “Good boy.” Angelo’s approval floated to Mark from the darkness as the plug pressed against his sphincter. Bobby twisted it a few times, spreading lube across Mark’s tight bud, and then it slid inside him, filling him almost three inches deep. It wasn’t physically large. Mark had played with larger on his own, but the humiliation of being plugged as a punishment by a criminal he should have been putting behind bars was almost more than he could take. A hot flush consumed his face, and little tingles ran all the way through his body, starting at his toes and moving all the way to the roots of his hair. He was sticky with sweat as his traitorous rear clutched at the plug, holding the object of torment inside him.

  It wasn’t comfortable, but he had a feeling it was going to get much worse very soon. The plug had a cord at the base of it just like the ring. Bobby took the ends of both cords and plugged them into a machine sitting on a nearby table. It lit up with a red light when Angelo flipped a switch.

  “There are so many ways to learn a lesson,” Angelo mused. “But I always feel that the most potent lessons are ones that come from within. You were arrogant today, Mark. And you were stupid. Did you really think I’d just let you walk out of here?”

  “I figured it was worth a try,” Mark said, grunting softly as he shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Having two dark pairs of eyes on him in this very undignified plugged position did not make matters any easier.

  His response made Angelo’s lips turn up just a fraction at the corners. “A bluff,” he said. “Well, as you see, I have called that bluff, Mark. And now you pay the price.” He reached out and turned a dial on the machine and a moment later, Mark felt the cock ring and the plug begin to do something to him.

  Tingle.

  It wasn’t like a vibrator. This was a tingle which came from inside the muscle rather than being imparted to it. It was a very strange sensation and at first Mark was too confused by it to really react.

  It felt nice. Definitely pleasurable.

  Until it didn’t.

  As Angelo turned the power up further, the tingles turned to pricks of pain. Mark started to move about even more uncomfortably. He was faintly aware that his hands were free. There was nothing stopping him from just taking the tormenting apparatus off. He tried reaching for the cock ring…

  WHACK!

  “Fuck!” He screamed as a belt of electrical stimulation slammed inside his asshole and around his cock.

  “Hands off,” Angelo purred, turning the dial back down and returning the stimulation to a simple tingle again. “You’re going to take this, Mark, because you need to learn to behave yourself. Obedience is everything. Submission is survival. Understand?”

  When Mark failed to respond in the affirmative, Angelo turned the dial back up and the cracking sensation bolted through Mark’s cock and balls again.

  “YES!” Mark cried out.

  “I don’t think you do. If you understood, you’d never have disrespected me as you did just now. You would never have thought to try to leave. The problem with you, Mark, is that you still think you’re free. You think you’re part of the world outside this one. You’re not.” Angelo loomed over him, terrible words emitting from that beautiful male face. “You’re mine, Mark. Every part of you. I own your soul.”

  Mark’s cock was stinging and his ass was starting to cramp a little. For a time Angelo toyed with the dials, making him dance in pain and then collapse in relief. He was proving his point alright. Mark didn’t feel like himself anymore. He felt like a puppet, dancing on strings attached to the most sensitive parts of him.

  “Look how fucking hard he is,” Bobby snorted. “He loves this.”

  “What’s not to love? A boy should love his owner,” Angelo said, lowering the stimulation back to the original tingling level. “Do you love me, Mark?”

  “No,” Mark gritted out, prepared for more pain. It didn’t come. At least, not right away. His erection continued to tingle with the stimulation Angelo was forcing on it. To Mark’s horror, he realized that orgasm was not out of the question. He might actually cum while Angelo tormented him. What did that mean? Was Bobby right? Did he like this on some sick level?

  “You will soon enough,” Angelo smiled. “My name will be synonymous with God. You will pray to me, Mark.”

  They were the words of a madman, but they were coming from someone so undoubtedly sane and in control that they left Mark feeling crazy.

  “Let me go, please…”

  “There’s nowhere to go, Mark. There’s only here. With me.”

  “No. Let me go.”

  Angelo sighed and turned the dial back up. Mark shouted out immediately. It felt as though he was being belted both inside his asshole and around his cock, a sudden burst of sensation that made his body reel in reaction.

  His tormentor turned the unit back down and the pain stopped immediately. Panting and more erect than he had ever been in his life, Mark just stared at Angelo.

  “I could leave you hooked up to this for hours,” Angelo said conversationally. “There’s no end to this. This could be the rest of your life, right here, in that chair, being stimulated to orgasm over and over again.”

  “Please…”

  “That’s the closest you get to prayer, but it’s not enough,” Angelo said. “You have to give yourself to me. You have to give me everything.”

  “Please…” Mark groaned as Angelo slowly turned up the dial, ramping the stimulation from gentle tingling to more intense throbbing. It should have been torture, but his body was responding otherwise. His cock was dripping with precum. He was a slave to his flesh, and to its responses to the evil threat Angelo presented.

  The dial kept turning. Mark’s writhing grew more intense.

  “What was it you said to me upstairs? That I’d be going to ‘pound you in the ass’ prison? There’s only one ass that’s going to be pounded,” Angelo hissed as Mark writhed in pleasure and pain. “And that’s yours.”

  Mark came with his cock trapped in the ring, his desire screamed to the rafters as his entire body arched with the pleasure of forced orgasm. He was not in control of himself. He was not in control of anything. The very air he breathed belonged to Angelo. He came screaming, begging, crying. He came until he passed out. And then he came again.

  When Mark came fully to his senses, his cock was flaccid and cum was trickling over his belly. Angelo was gone. Only Bobby was left, perching nearby on a stool, watching Mark with those unholy dark eyes. He tossed a towel at Mark.

  “Clean up,” he said. “And you can take that shit out of your ass if you want.”

  It was almost more embarrassing easing the plug out of his rectum than it had been allowing Bobby to push it in. Bobby looked on, a slightly bored expression on his handsome features as Mark removed the plug and ring and put them to the side.

  “You liked watching that I bet,” Mark grunted. “Get me back for what I did to you.”

  Bobby shrugged. “I’ll like watching you die.”

  Charming.

  13

  Fucked. He was so fucked. Every move Mark made led him deeper into Angelo’s traps. He couldn’t do anything without wondering if it was somehow planned out for him to fail and be punished.

  Once the electrical ordeal was over he’d been sent back to his room, just like the naughty boy he was, or so Angelo said via Bobby, a particularly snarky and vicious proxy. Mark stayed there for three days, being fed on tr
ays Bobby brought him. He didn’t see Angelo in that time, and he was glad not to. His mind and emotions were in chaos, and Angelo only made everything worse.

  Mark had to get out of this house. He had to get away from Vitali. But the only way to do that was to let Angelo fuck him. And he couldn’t do that. That went against every value, impulse, and bit of sense he had.

  Vitali had been crystal clear about his motivations. He wanted to own him. Mark could see what Angelo had in store for him just by looking at Bobby. That young man had once had his own thriving operation, before Angelo broke him to his will. Now Robert Vitali sucked cock on command. Mark could only imagine Angelo would have him do worse.

  Held captive by his thoughts, Mark snapped to quick attention when Angelo walked into the room one afternoon without announcement or warning. Had the man come to gloat? Or to hurt him more? What was his angle now? He moved with a casual stroll and expression which didn’t acknowledge any of the torment he’d put Mark through days earlier. As Mark stared at him, Angelo extended his hand and dropped half a tablet onto the bed.

  “Your pill.”

  “Thanks,” Mark said taking it and swallowing it back right away. The weaning off the meds was actually sort of working. There were probably side effects, but his whole situation was so unpleasant he really couldn’t tell if he was suffering stress from being weaned off the benzos, or if it was just what being Angelo Vitali’s captive felt like.

  Whatever it was, it felt better when he avoided looking at Angelo. He had already been lying down, so he simply turned his face back to the bed and lay staring at the wall.

  “Are you sulking, boy?” Angelo sounded amused.

  “I want to go home.”

  Angelo made a soft sound of sympathy that Mark didn’t believe for a second. “You know what you have to do.”

  “You could fuck anybody, why me?”

  “Because there’s no joy in fucking anybody,” Angelo purred.

  Mark almost asked if Angelo would be gentle with him. What a ridiculous question. Of course he wouldn’t. He’d be ruthless, twisted, and entirely relentless. Why did the thought of that make him so hard?

  Angelo reached out and touched his hair softly. Mark closed his eyes as his tormentor’s fingers brushed lightly across his scalp.

  “You’ve belonged to our government since you were eighteen years old,” Angelo murmured. “A soldier, and then a federal agent. They expect you to give your life for your country. All I’m asking for is your body.”

  Angelo had a way of making the most perverted propositions sound reasonable.

  “I don’t…” Mark trailed off.

  He felt the bed sink down behind him as Angelo sat next to him, getting close with his touch and his words.

  “You don’t want to be with me? That’s a lie. I can see your desire, Mark. I can feel it whenever you look at me. You want me as much as I want you. But you have these ideas which were injected into your head that keep you from ever being entirely free. You think you’re a prisoner here, but I impose no limitations on what you can feel… it’s the outside world that does that. Shames you for your passions, makes you hide your desires. You think I’m the bad guy, but I’ve only ever hurt you when you needed it.”

  “You think I needed an electric butt plug?”

  “I do,” Angelo said. “And you did. You came down the stairs so cocky, so ready for a fight. If I had let you go, I would have had to have hurt you far more than I did by using my little toys on you.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because you don’t want to be let go.” Angelo’s hand slid around Mark’s waist and found his crotch. “You want to be held. You want to be loved. You want to be taken as you need to be taken. That won’t happen out there. It only happens here.”

  His large hand squeezed Mark’s cock through his underwear.

  Mark let out a shuddering breath. No. He would not be seduced by someone who had used electricity on his asshole. He had standards.

  “You hurt me.”

  “Yes,” Angelo purred. “And now I want to make us both feel better.”

  Mark could have resisted, but he didn’t. Not when Angelo pressed a kiss to his temple, not when he slid his hand up over his underwear and then inside to wrap his fingers around Mark’s thick rod. Goddamn, why was he erect?

  “If you want to feel good, all you have to do is obey. It’s so easy.”

  Angelo sat on the bed behind Mark and stroked his cock in slow motions as Mark lay there, unsure of what to do. He could have stopped Angelo at any time, but the touch was soothing and it was hot and it made his mind race, not just with erotic thoughts, but with the realization of how utterly unique this situation was.

  His early sexual experiences had mostly been furtive and groping in the dark out the back of the barracks, just the rough pounding of flesh on flesh. That had been hot for a while, but one of the things he’d looked forward to when he got out was being able to be himself. That hadn’t panned out. Competition among rookies was fierce, and getting his gay on wasn’t exactly encouraged during training at Quantico, or even as a rookie.

  In Angelo’s world, sexuality wasn’t an issue. He refused to allow his gayness to matter, and so it didn’t. Mark had read the studies and profiles on him. He knew how Angelo had carved out a niche in a business known for machismo and homophobia simply by being far more effective than those who wasted their time on caring about those things. Every time he was underestimated for being gay, he had taught harsh, sometimes brutal lessons, until in the end, he was accepted.

  Mark had admired Angelo since first learning about the man. Part of him not only didn’t hate the fact that he was captive - part of him was thrilled. This was a man who lived fully, who did not allow social norms or laws to control him. He was free in a way very few people were or ever would be. But he was also evil, and twisted and, entirely criminal.

  “Does that feel good?” Angelo purred the words in his ear.

  “Yes,” Mark admitted in a low moan.

  “Good,” Angelo squeezed just below the head of his cock. “I can make you feel good, Mark. I can make everything better if you just let me.”

  Mark let out a sigh as Angelo toyed with him. This did feel good, but he couldn’t forget himself enough to truly let go. He was a federal agent, and this was his mark.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Bobby interrupted abruptly, slamming into the room He didn’t sound or look happy. His features were set in a jealous scowl which almost made Mark feel guilty for a second before he realized he had no agency in any of this. He was just a passenger along for the ride.

  “What do you mean?” Angelo rose from the bed to face his lover.

  “You were going to fuck him, weren’t you.”

  Shit, this really did add another layer of complication. Maybe Bobby would be the one who literally saved Mark’s ass by pitching a fit if Angelo tried to be intimate with him.

  “I don’t answer to you, little boy,” Angelo growled at Bobby.

  “Oh yes you fucking do,” Bobby shot back. Mark sat up, fascinated by the scene playing out in front of him. It didn’t seem as though anyone stood up to Angelo very often, least of all Bobby.

  “Excuse me?” Angelo’s voice had gotten softer, more dangerous. “You’re forgetting yourself.”

  “No. You are.”

  Bobby pulled a gun from behind his back and pointed it not at Angelo, but straight at Mark.

  “We should fucking kill him and be done with it,” he growled. “He’s a fed. He’s our enemy. But you think he’s attractive so you’re keeping him around to play your sick fucking games with him. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot him in the fucking head.”

  So this was how Mark died. With a semi-erection in a criminal’s bed. There were worse places to die, he figured as the peculiar calm which often accompanies acceptance of death sank through him.

  Angelo started to prowl toward Bobby. “You don’t want me to play w
ith him, is that it? You’re jealous? You want me to fuck you instead? You want me to take out everything I have for him on you?”

  The gun wavered in Bobby’s hand. Mark saw the younger man gulp. Shit. Bobby was so far out of his league. No boy in his early twenties could ever be a match for Angelo Vitali. It was obvious that Bobby wasn’t actually planning on pulling the trigger. He’d bought a gun to a cock fight and he was losing.

  “I want him dead.” Bobby sounded almost petulant, like a boy who wanted a toy he couldn’t have.

  “Why? Because killing law enforcement seems like a good idea to you? That’s stupid, Bobby, even for you. I’ve explained this before, and I won’t do it again. Give me that gun and get your ass over the bed. Now!” Angelo thundered the order.

  Bobby obeyed almost meekly. Releasing his hold on the weapon, he handed it to Angelo, who took the gun in one hand and grabbed Bobby by the back of the neck with his other. He threw Bobby down on the bed roughly, forcing Mark to get out of the way of his sprawling frame.

  “Hold him,” Angelo ordered Mark. “Pin him down.”

  Mark moved to obey, if only to keep the man who wanted to kill him from being able to jump up and attack him if he got a second wind of bravery.

  Angelo yanked Bobby’s pants down, baring his ass. He had a nice rear, fit and defined and full. Mark felt himself responding. God. He was such a goddamned top. Even when looking at the butt of a man who had just held a gun to his head he couldn’t stop wanting to sink himself between those sweet cheeks. It would be good revenge too, for what Bobby had done to him earlier with that probe.

  The thought shocked him a little, both the content of it and how quickly it had come to him. It was so easy to be evil. The more he was around Angelo and Bobby, the more he found his normal ways of thinking evaporating to be replaced with dark, lustful thoughts.

  While Mark held Bobby in place and mused philosophically about the nature of good, evil and sex, Angelo had taken his belt off and doubled it over.

  “Hold him still,” he instructed Mark. “I don’t want to miss with this.”