These Monstrous Deeds

by T. J. Hamel

  “I was so afraid, sir…”

  Sir opens his eyes, keeping his forehead against Carter’s as he peers into Carter’s eyes. The position forces sir’s breath to fan across Carter’s face. He smells like scotch tonight. Carter could inhale him forever.

  “You were afraid of me?”

  “Yes,” Carter admits in a whisper, feeling as if they’re sharing secrets. Very big secrets. Maybe they are. “I was terrified, sir.”

  “That I’d hurt you?”

  “No. I – I was terrified that I’d want you…” Carter presses his forehead harder against sir’s, desperate for him to understand. He needs sir to understand. His voice shakes as he forces the truth out. “You made me feel so good, sir. You – you made me want you. I don’t want to want you.”

  Sir cradles the left side of Carter’s face in his big palm. Carter can’t help but lean into the touch, his nose tracing the lines in his skin. It feels good. So very good.

  “Don’t run from me again.” Carter can’t help but feel like the words aren’t an order. They sound so much more like a desperate plea. “Let yourself feel good, sweetheart. Let yourself want me. Lord knows I want you.” Sir laughs, the sound breathy and frustrated. “I want you so much I’m going fucking crazy.”

  “It’s… wrong.”

  “Who cares? You’re mine now. Forever. You won’t get away. Your idiot brother isn’t coming to save you. Trust me, I don’t let my possessions go until I want to, and I don’t plan on ever wanting that with you.” Sir runs a thumb along Carter’s bottom lip, pulling his head back just enough to meet Carter’s gaze. “So, stop fighting me. Stop making yourself miserable, making yourself guilty. Let it feel good. Let yourself like it. Let yourself want it. Want me. Because it’s going to happen to you either way, sweetheart.”

  Carter’s eyes burn, but he nods. Sir is right. It would be so much easier to just give in. To find every ounce of silver lining in his situation and milk it for all it’s worth.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Carter whispers, wiping a tear from his cheek. “I – I won’t run again. I promise.”

  “Good.” Sir sighs. “Because I really fucking hate hurting you.”

  Before Carter can wrap his mind around that, sir leans forward to press his lips against Carter’s. Carter gasps, caught by surprise, and sir takes advantage of the opportunity by sliding his tongue between Carter’s parted lips. He licks his way into Carter’s mouth, then carefully pulls his tongue back with a flick to Carter’s, almost like he’s tagging him. Carter chases, tasting scotch in sir’s mouth as he mirrors his movements. Sir smiles into the kiss, their teeth clacking. Then he grabs Carter’s head in a tight grip and holds him perfectly still as he takes complete control of the interaction.

  Sir doesn’t pull away until Carter is breathless.

  “I have something for you,” the man says quietly, seeming to be unfairly unaffected by the kiss that just spun Carter’s whole world. When Carter looks at the hand sir lifts between them, he can’t help but smile. Grin even.

  His moose.

  Carter had left the small stuffed animal in the closet this morning, having been unable to grab it when sir woke him so violently. Part of him had worried that sir got rid of it as an extra punishment. But he didn’t. It’s still here.

  “Go ahead.” Sir nudges Carter’s hand. “Take it.”

  Carter takes the moose with his trembling hand, pulling it close to his chest right away. He blinks rapidly so he doesn’t start to cry again. “Thank you, sir. I – thank you.”

  Sir inhales deeply through his nose, his eyes going dark enough for his pupils to blend in. Emotions seem to battle their way through his expression. Rage. Grief. Lust. Something… else. Something Carter can’t quite place. Or, maybe, something Carter’s too afraid to place.

  He realizes what’s going on in sir’s head when the man’s eyes slide closed and he rasps, “I don’t want you in that cage tonight.” He opens his eyes, a sudden desperation in his gaze. “I fucking hate the thought of you in that cage.”

  Carter nibbles on his lip, looking down at his moose. Is this a test? “I… deserve it, sir. I was bad.”

  “You were.” Sir curls a finger beneath Carter’s chin, gently lifting until their eyes are locked. “But I think you’ve learned your lesson. Haven’t you sweetheart?”

  “I have, sir.” Carter nods rapidly. “I have. Never again. I’ll never run from you again. And I’ll try so hard to not break any other rules, sir. Really hard.”

  Unless he’s going fucking crazy, Carter swears he sees relief in sir’s expression. “Then, no point in the cage, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” Sir cups Carter’s face with his big hands again, looking at Carter like… like Carter doesn’t even know. Not like a monster, that’s for sure. “You’ll sleep in my bed tonight. Right beside me. Where you belong. How does that sound?”

  Carter doesn’t bother to bite his smile back. “So good, sir. Thank you.”

  “Mmm.” Sir runs his thumb along the curve of Carter’s mouth before standing up. “Climb up on the bed. Lay on your stomach in the center. I’ll be right back.”

  Carter’s stomach swoops, but he obeys without hesitation. Honestly, there’s a part of him – a shamefully large part – that would be okay if sir wants him to do this so he can fuck him. It’ll hurt his sore hole, and probably the abused skin of his backside, but he’s desperate to be touched, desperate for sir to pay attention to him, desperate to be forgiven.

  By the time sir returns, Carter has himself hyped up for sex. To be used by sir. Maybe even hurt by him some more.

  Instead, sir urges him to prop himself up on his elbows and hands him a water with a straw. He tells Carter to take slow sips before moving toward Carter’s ass, beginning to apply a cool gel over his skin in slow strokes. Carter drops his head between his shoulders, humming in pleasure at the heavenly relief on his injured bottom. Sir chuckles, the sound almost… fond. It does strange things to Carter’s mind. In fact, everything regarding sir seems to be doing that tonight.

  “Sir?” Carter gets the courage to ask, praying he’s not about to fuck everything up.

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Are you going to… use me?”

  Sir’s hand pauses in the center of Carter’s left ass cheek, a heavy silence falling around them. Carter squeezes his eyes shut. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

  “Do you want me to use you?”

  “I-” Carter stops himself, unsure of what he wants. He knows one thing at least. “I just want to be better for you, sir. I want you to forgive me.”

  A soft hum comes from sir. Then his hand returns to smoothing the gel over Carter’s hot skin. Carter assumes the subject is dropped. That’s why he’s surprised when sir gently parts his ass cheeks and touches a wet thumb to Carter’s hole. “You’re too sore for me to use you tonight, sweetheart. I didn’t prep you well enough in the dungeon, and that plug is shit. You’re all red back here.”

  Just days ago, Carter would have felt a deep, burning humiliation at a man talking about his hole like that. It barely even registers now. “I can take it, sir. I can be strong for you.”

  Sir’s sigh is almost wistful. “I have no doubt that you can. But you don’t need to. Now hold still. I’m going to put some gel on your pretty hole to make it feel better.”

  Carter shivers, cheeks burning at the words of… praise? It sounds like praise. Dirty praise, but praise nonetheless. Having a pretty hole as a pleasure slave is surely a good thing, right?

  The gel feels strange on his hole. Soothing, but also a tiny bit stingy as it starts to dry. When he whimpers, sir hushes him softly, peppering soft kisses to his abused ass cheeks until he’s melting into the mattress.

  “You’re so good for me, sweetheart,” sir mumbles as he shifts over Carter’s body to kiss the dimples above his ass. “You’re so good.” He kisses up the curve of Carter’s spine. “That’s why I was so shocked this morning.” He takes
the water from Carter, placing it on the table beside the bed. “I was afraid I lost you.” He settles his weight against Carter, his erection hot and heavy against Carter’s abused ass cheeks. His lips skate along his shoulder blades. First the left. Then the right. “No doing that again, okay, sweetheart?” He kisses the nape of Carter’s neck. The side of his throat. “Be a good boy for me.” He kisses below Carter’s right ear. Behind it. The shell of it. The lobe. “You can do that, can’t you, sweetheart? Hmmm?” He kisses Carter’s temple, his hips rolling, Carter gasping as he feels precum spread across his burning skin. “Can you be my good boy?”

  “Yes,” Carter gasps, over and over, moaning and trembling beneath him. “Yes, yes, yes. Sir, sir, please. Please.”

  “Please?” sir rasps, his voice hoarse for some reason.

  “Let me make you feel good. Please. Please sir, can I make you feel good?”

  Sir shudders above him. Then, “No. No, you’ve – you’ve done enough. You took your punishment so well for me, sweetheart. You don’t have to do anything else.”

  “No,” Carter whines, desperation tightening his throat. “Sir, please.”

  “Sweetheart…”

  “You – you ignored me all day. I just want – please. Please touch me. Please, sir. Please let me be with you.”

  With a shaky exhale, sir tucks his head in the dip between Carter’s throat and shoulder. His lips press against the skin there before he jerks away like Carter has burned him. Sir moans, the sound low and frustrated. Then he’s pressing back against Carter, grinding with a sudden urgency. “Okay. Fuck. Okay, you can do that, sweetheart. Fuck, of course you can be with me.”

  Sir nudges Carter’s legs apart until his cock is sliding through the apex of his thighs. The gel he had collected from rubbing himself on Carter’s ass is enough to make sir slick as he begins to thrust between his legs. Carter can’t help the soft sigh that falls from his lips as he relaxes into the mattress in relief. Each movement stings, but it’s the kind of sting like before in sir’s office, the sting that was welcome because it was a reminder of sir. He’s hurting for sir. He’s making sir feel good. He’s being touched and kissed and used. Sir needs him.

  “Fuck. I-” sir groans, his teeth scraping over Carter’s shoulder. “I can’t believe how good you are.”

  “Sir.”

  “Shhh. That’s it, sweetheart. That’s my good boy.” He glides his tongue over the places where he just bit Carter moments before, soothing the pain. “Is this what you wanted from me? What you needed? For sir to use you?”

  “Yes!” Carter feels tears falling down his cheeks. He can’t stop smiling. “Yes. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “Fuck. Fucking hell.” Sir hooks his arm around Carter’s waist, tugging him up to his hands and knees. He puts a hand to Carter’s mouth and orders, “Make this wet.”

  Wanting to keep being sir’s good boy, he hurries to slobber all over the man’s palm and fingers, even sucking on them greedily when sir presses them into his mouth. Sir groans before pulling his hand away.

  Carter jerks in surprise when he feels the hand wrap around his hard cock that he had been trying his best to ignore. He gasps, his heart racing. “Sir!”

  “Hush. Let me make you feel good.” Sir tightens his hold on Carter’s cock. “We’re practicing, sweetheart.”

  “P-practicing, sir?”

  “You obeying me. Your pleasure is mine. Remember?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “So, if I want to make you feel good, you’re going to fucking feel good, and you’re not going to run away from me after. Understood?”

  Carter nods rapidly, warmth pooling in his lower stomach. “Yes. Yes, sir. Yes!”

  “Good boy. Now move for me.” Sir wraps a hand around Carter’s hip and guides him so he’s rocking back and forth, fucking into sir’s hand before stroking sir’s cock between his thighs. He sets Carter up with a nice, even pace before letting him move on his own, planting a hand on the mattress to steady himself while his other hand continues to stroke and squeeze Carter’s cock. Every movement makes Carter’s ass burn and his sore muscles ache. The pain pools in his gut, fuel to the fire of his arousal.

  “Oh god, sir. Sir.”

  “It feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

  “So good, sir,” Carter cries. “So good. So good.”

  “Are you going to come for me?”

  Carter moves faster, starting to lose his rhythm. Remembering last night, he asks, “C-can I, sir? Oh, please. Please, can I?”

  “Not yet.” Sir kisses the curve of his shoulder before trailing more up his neck. He nibbles on Carter’s earlobe. “Tell me how good it feels again.”

  “Sir, so good. So, so good.”

  “You want it? You like being used by me?”

  “Sir,” he whispers, hanging his head between his shoulders. “Yes, sir… wanna – wanna make you happy, sir. Wanna be your good boy.”

  The man behind him moans, his movements stuttering as he grips Carter’s hip again and holds him steady. It hurts when his thrusts get harsh enough to slap against Carter’s sore ass cheeks. He sobs, squirming and trembling, but he’s still achingly hard and desperate for release. It’s so good. So, so good.

  It should be awful. It should feel like rape. But – but – it just – and Carter can’t – and - “Oh god, sir!” Carter whimpers. “Please.”

  “Fuck.” Sir grunts, his hips snapping forward once, twice, then, “I’m gonna come. Fuck. Come with me, sweetheart. Show me how good you feel.”

  Carter sobs a loud, “Sir!” before his back arches and his cock spills. He can barely feel sir’s hot, sticky cum coating the insides of his thighs as his mind soars up and away. He can barely hear sir’s soft, whispered praise. But he knows it’s all there, distantly, in the back of his mind, and it makes Carter feel… something.

  Something he’s not going to run away from this time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Within the first 60 seconds of interacting with Carter, it becomes clear to Nathan that the boy didn’t sleep well. In fact, it seems he may not have slept at all. It’s unlike him. Since they finally got on the same page the other night, Carter’s been the perfect slave. He’s quiet and obedient, no longer hesitating, no longer crying. They haven’t had sex since then, though Carter gave him a fantastic blowjob when Nathan had accidentally gotten hard while he was warming Nathan’s cock after dinner. A blowjob that Carter had – after making eye contact and arching an eyebrow in question – initiated himself. They’ve even found a rhythm together when alone at night, talking about nothing important with a particular ease as they take baths or lay side by side in bed.

  Carter not sleeping isn’t good.

  “Sweetheart?” Nathan says for a second time, snapping his fingers in front of the boy’s face.

  Carter blinks rapidly, his head lolling on his neck. “Yes, sir?”

  “I told you to go use the bathroom.”

  “Oh.” Carter rubs the back of his fist against his right eye, nodding. “M’kay… be right back, sir.”

  Instead of walking like he usually does, Carter just crawls into the bathroom. His movements are slow, his poor knees slapping against the floor clumsily. Usually he hurries, and perhaps he is, but it still takes him a long time to return to the bedroom. Nathan is almost fully dressed by the time Carter is settled in front of him.

  “Want help, sir?” he slurs, blinking sleepily up at Nathan.

  “Come here.” Nathan offers his hand, smiling when Carter takes it. He helps the boy stand up, wanting to give his knees a break. Carter is weak on his legs, but he seems strong enough for Nathan to let go. There’s a slight waver to his stance, probably from exhaustion. “Button my shirt.”

  Nodding, Carter lazily lifts his arms and begins to work on Nathan’s shirt. He gets halfway through before an adorable frown pulls at his lips. With a little huff, Carter undoes the buttons and restarts, having been off by one. Nathan pretends not to notice because he does
n’t want to have to scold him at all.

  When the shirt is finally buttoned properly, Carter’s hands linger at Nathan’s collar. “Do you need a tie, sir?”

  Nathan smiles. “Sure. Socks too. Why don’t you pick them out for me from my closet?”

  This makes Carter smile. He seems to like helping, something Nathan makes sure to keep in mind.

  Nathan gets his belt and watch on while Carter is gone, then lets the boy wrap a navy-blue tie around his neck. When Carter ducks down to put his socks on, Nathan tweaks the tie to fix the absolutely awful knot, smiling to himself. Then he shrugs his suit jacket on while Carter helps him into his shoes. He tries to be as quick as possible when prepping Carter for his plug, not wanting the boy to fall asleep on the damn floor while Nathan works him open. Carter is still awake when the plug settles inside him, but just barely.

  Their trip from the bedroom to the dining area is twice as long as usual. Nathan pretends it’s his fault, scrolling through his phone as if he’s distracted reading something. People dart out of his way and don’t question the slow pace. He’s the most important person in the house. It makes perfect sense for him to be too busy to look up during transit.

  When they sit down, Nathan carefully maneuvers Carter to his usual spot on the floor between his legs. He wishes no one was around so he could put a cushion down for him. Maybe he’ll do it in his office whenever they’re alone today. That’s not too soft. Surely men like him do that for their slaves sometimes.

  “What would you like this morning, sir?” a house slave asks.

  “A little bit of everything today. Two waters, one with a straw, and a coffee.”

  The slave hurries off, Nathan’s focus returning to Carter. He gently drags his knuckles along Carter’s right cheek. There are so many things he wants to say to the boy. So many things he wants to do with him.

  But everyone at the table is getting their cock warmed or sucked, and Nathan should be doing the same. He pulls himself from his pants and guides Carter’s head to his lap. The boy’s eyes are barely open, but he parts his lips and accepts the soft cock that Nathan gently nudges into his mouth. Nathan watches him pathetically try to keep his head up on his neck before cupping the back of it and pressing him down so he’s resting on Nathan’s thigh. The boy sighs in content, eyes blinking slowly a few times before they finally fall shut for good.