These Monstrous Deeds

by T. J. Hamel

  Todd takes the leash like a greedy kid in a candy shop, his eyes alight. “Thank you, Nathan. I’m honored.”

  “Of course.” Sir winks at Todd, ignoring Carter entirely. “I hope you enjoy the view as much as I do.”

  The view.

  The view of Carter’s fight going out of him.

  The view of Carter losing hope.

  Todd says something that makes sir laugh, but Carter doesn’t register the words. He looks away from them, focusing back on his knees. He doesn’t want to look at them anymore. Partly because he can’t stand the sight of them.

  Mostly because he doesn’t want them to see him cry.

  ◆◆◆

  Nathan stares down at the ice in his scotch, his hand wrapped around the glass in a death grip. He’s been studying it for a while now. It’s safer. If he’s looking at his scotch, he’s not looking at Carter. And Nathan… Nathan can’t look at Carter.

  “So pretty,” he hears Todd croon to his left. “What’s wrong? You don’t like being touched there?”

  Nathan takes another gulp of the burning liquid as Carter whimpers. This is his fault, something he realized just minutes into them taking their seats. He had mentioned Carter being a fighter to give the boy some leeway to misbehave tonight. If he slips up at all, Nathan can wave it off, say something witty in an amused tone, instead of having to bend Carter over and punish him for Todd’s enjoyment. What he hadn’t anticipated was that by sharing this fact, he gave Todd a challenge. Todd wants to see the fighter break.

  And he’s having a whole lot of fun as he pursues the goal.

  “That’s it, slut. Get hard for me.”

  Nathan closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

  Carter cries out in pain, his first real cry of the night. It startles Nathan enough to draw his attention despite his best efforts to refrain. His eyes land on the boy just as Todd yanks Carter’s sack for what he assumes is at least the second time. The erection he had forced on the boy is quickly waning.

  Nathan looks away, staring off at nothing as his eyes blur.

  Maybe he’ll bring Carter some books tomorrow for his day off. Nathan bets he likes books.

  “Goodness, your master must have so much fun with you.”

  Nathan feels Todd’s gaze turn on him. With a single blink, he has his shit together again. He turns to look at the man, carefully avoiding the sight of Carter as he does so, and gives him a grin that’s positively evil. He can feel it seeping into his bones. He’s not sure if he’ll ever be rid of it now.

  He’s not sure if he’ll ever deserve to be.

  “What are his rules?” Todd asks, still looking at Nathan even as his hands roam Carter’s body.

  Nathan forces a laugh, hoping to hide the fact that the boy barely has any rules compared to other pleasure slaves. “You’d have to be more specific.”

  “Perhaps I should say, what are my rules?”

  That’s a much safer conversation. Easier. Even if the images suddenly fluttering through Nathan’s mind make him sick. “His ass is mine to fuck, but you can play with it. As for his mouth, it’s all yours. And you’ve already realized his cock and balls are free game.”

  There’s accidentally too much bite in that last sentence. Todd freezes, slowly meeting Nathan’s eyes. “I should have asked-”

  “Nonsense.” Nathan waves a hand, giving him an easy smile that’s anything but easy. “I would have stopped you if you did something I didn’t like, my friend. Honestly, as long as your cock stays out of his ass, and you don’t do anything permanent, you have almost unlimited range.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Just don’t break him,” Nathan finds himself adding, his heart racing. “He’s – he’s mine to break.”

  If Todd notices the struggle in Nathan’s voice, he doesn’t show it. He just grins and returns to his new toy.

  Nathan gives himself a moment to imagine what it would be like to pin Todd to the floor with a hand to his throat as he uses his other hand to pummel him into a bloody fucking pulp. Then he forces himself to let go of the fantasy, as well as any ill feelings toward the man. Todd Henley is the key to everything. Nathan can’t forget that.

  Remembering what he talked to Maison about, Nathan informs Todd, “You’ll be the first to use him. Besides me, of course.”

  The look on Todd’s face is unexplainable. It’s an instant confirmation of his loyalty. This plan is going to work. After all this time, Nathan’s finally approaching the finish line. “Thank you for that honor, Nathan.”

  Nathan nods once. “This alliance is very important to me. I would like you to be in my small circle. This is how I treat the men in that circle.”

  Todd’s eyes turn to Carter again, his grin widening like a fucking sadistic clown when he catches Carter looking at him. Carter’s shoulders hunch as the boy curls into himself.

  “I think I’m going to like this circle,” Todd says as he fists Carter’s hair and tugs, seemingly for no reason other than to draw a sound from the boy.

  “Master Roarke?” Nathan turns in his seat, raising an eyebrow at the slave in the doorway. The girl quickly looks away, her cheeks going pink. “Dinner is served, Master.”

  Without a word, Nathan pushes to his feet. He drains his glass and puts it down on the table beside his chair before turning to his guest. Todd stands as well, just letting Carter tumble to the floor. The boy hits the floor hard enough to make Nathan wince. He releases a pained sound that’s tinted with fear. Nathan can feel Todd watching him, probably unsure if Nathan is upset about the lack of regard to his slave.

  Todd could do much worse than letting Carter fall a foot or two. Nathan has to set his boundaries wide tonight.

  With the toe of his Berluti leather shoe, Nathan gently taps Carter’s left ass cheek. He makes sure it looks like a proper kick. “Shut the fuck up.”

  Todd relaxes instantly, his own shoe hitting Carter’s other cheek. It blooms bright red. Nathan hopes Todd is too much of a dipshit to notice that the cheek Nathan supposedly kicked doesn’t look the same.

  “Let’s go slut.” Todd yanks harshly on the leash, making Carter scramble to keep from getting choked.

  Including Benny, only 4 other men were invited to this dinner. As the glass doors are slid across the tracks in the openings of the dining area to close them in for privacy, Nathan makes introductions.

  “Todd, you’ve met my second, Benny.”

  “Yes, of course.” Benny and Todd shake hands, agreeing it’s great to see each other again. Then Nathan continues. “This here is Donavan,” he pauses for their handshake, “This is Chris,” he pauses again, “And this is Mica.”

  Todd’s eyes flash at Mica, his handshake slightly more enthusiastic. “I’ve heard of some of your work. It’s excellent to meet you.”

  Nathan’s stomach turns. Mica’s job is the most hands-on of all of them, the man not only unafraid to get blood on his hands, but eager to do so. Literal blood. Not metaphorical. Nathan’s only ever seen him in action once. He had to fake disinterest before hurrying to the nearest bathroom and spilling his guts. That was back when he was new, though. Back when he wasn’t as hardened by this life. Back when he still shared equal space in his mind with Travis. There’s a good chance Nathan would barely be affected by the things Mica does to people now, but he’s in no hurry to find out.

  After the formalities have been dealt with, Todd turns to Nathan. “Would you like your pet back?”

  “No, you’re our guest. Keep him. He’s an excellent cock warmer.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.” Nathan smiles. “A hole is a hole. I’ll use another.”

  Todd ducks his head respectfully and thanks him before taking the seat that Nathan gestures to. It’s to Nathan’s left, directly across from Benny where he sits to Nathan’s right. Todd tugs Carter beneath the table. Nathan has to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself composed. He hadn’t realized how much he’d hate not being able to see his boy anymore
. He doesn’t like it.

  He doesn’t fucking like it one bit.

  4 naked young men and a naked young woman come into the room, all collared and timid. Donovan grabs the woman, since that’s his taste, the others spreading out for the rest of the guests. Nathan curls his hand gently around his temporary slave’s wrist without making eye contact, guiding him closer. “Beneath my table. Take me out. Warm me.”

  “Yes, Master Roarke,” the slave says quietly, doing as told. He’s one of the broken ones. It’s why Nathan can’t stand to even look at him. At any of them. They’re all broken. He failed them already. They’ll never be the same, even after he’s set them free.

  Carter is the only one left standing.

  The men all exchange small talk for the first part of the meal, allowing everyone to feel each other out as they sip their drinks and eat an array of appetizers, salad, and soup. When the main course is served, Benny jumps into the more important topics of conversation. Nathan probably would have before then, but he’s been far too focused on the tiny sounds coming from beneath the table to his left.

  He finishes his second scotch, ignoring his best friend’s pointed look.

  “The party this weekend will be the perfect opportunity to study him,” Benny says. “Henley, he doesn’t know about you and Nathan’s growing relationship. You’re our best plan of attack for information retrieval, if you can get him to trust you enough.”

  “You’ll tell him you tried talking to us,” Nathan adds. “It’ll get leaked that you were here, that’s just fact, but he doesn’t have to know the truth. You can tell him you were considering working with us, but have decided not to. You can shit talk me. Say I didn’t let you use the boy. Say we fought. Say we treated you as inferior. Whatever you’d like. You just need to convince Miller that you’re pissed at me and out for blood.”

  Todd nods. “We can solidify a story. I have no problem doing that.”

  "Perfect." Nathan smiles, his eyes flicking to the table in front of Todd. He swallows a wave of bile. "How's the slut?"

  "He's very pretty when he cries." Todd leans back in his chair, grinning down at Carter. He does something that forces a choked sob from the boy.

  Nathan wants more than anything to ask what Todd is doing to make his sweet, tough boy cry under there. Instead, he smiles. "Yes, he is. Is he satisfying you?"

  “Absolutely.” Todd looks down again, his smile fading as he sees something Nathan can’t see. “The fuck are you lookin’ at? Eyes down.”

  There’s a soft sound, Carter in pain, but muted by the cock no doubt stuffed in his mouth. Todd spits. Nathan can’t see, but he can assume it lands on Carter’s face.

  Nathan taps his slave’s cheek. The boy pulls away so his mouth is free, keeping his gaze lowered as he asks, “How may I serve you, Master?”

  “Fetch me a refill.”

  “The Macallan, Master?”

  “Yes. 2 cubes of ice. 3 fingers.”

  "Yes, Master." The boy gracefully crawls from under the table, past Nathan's chair, before pushing to his feet. He disappears. Another slave shortly follows, probably fetching a drink for Chris.

  Something hits the table where Todd is sitting, a sharp cry following the thud. Then Carter is being dragged out by his hair and forced to stand up. The boy stumbles a step before gaining his balance, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to adjust to his new surroundings. His cheeks are ruddy and covered in tears, his forehead has a glob of spit in the center, and there are deep red finger marks around his throat. His nipples are puffy and dotted with red specks. Nathan accidentally darts his eyes down to the boy’s genitals. His soft cock is a muddle of reds, his poor balls nearly purple and covered in little indents that match the shape of fingernails.

  “Go on!” Todd snaps, reaching out and smacking a hand against Carter’s ass. “Get me a drink.”

  Carter sways on his feet, blinking again. “W-what would you like, sir?”

  “More of this.” He grabs his mostly empty glass and splashes it in Carter’s face, making the boy stumble and splutter. All of Nathan’s men laugh with Todd, including Benny. So, Nathan laughs too. It feels like the sound comes from somewhere else. Somewhere far away. Like Nathan is just watching the scene and hearing a laugh that resembles his own, but surely can’t be his.

  The slave for Chris subtly grabs Carter’s fingertips and tugs at them. It’s enough to get Carter to follow him out of the room, the boy trembling as he goes.

  Nathan closes his eyes and breathes as Benny begins speaking again. He’s getting too close to the edge. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

  He doesn’t know how much more Carter can take.

  Nathan is determined to keep this boy from breaking, but how the fuck does he realistically do that?

  What if he can’t?

  ◆◆◆

  Carter hates Todd. Despises him. He will never doubt how grateful he is for sir again. Sir is kind if Carter is good. He praises him. Strokes his hair. Gives him pleasure. Todd doesn’t give a shit if Carter is good. He scolds him and degrades him. He tugs his hair so hard Carter swears it will come out of his scalp. He plays sadistic games with Carter’s cock and balls.

  At some point, Carter zones out for his own self-preservation. Between the nails scraping at him, the cock choking him, the hair getting yanked, the insults, the humiliation, the spit on his face, and the leather shoe digging into his genitals until they’re throbbing with white-hot bursts of pain, Carter’s only chance at sanity is to disappear somewhere safe inside his head.

  He chooses a field of daffodils. The air is warm and fresh like the air that had filtered in from that door earlier. The sun is setting. The grass is soft on his skin as he lays in it.

  It works, until it doesn’t.

  Until Carter gets jostled, and his eyes skitter away from Todd, and he sees the slave between sir’s legs. Then he’s snapped back into the present, every pain sharp and urgent, the worst of it emanating in his chest.

  Sir is being gentle with the slave, letting him rest his head on sir’s thigh while petting his hair idly like he does with Carter. The slave is good, too. He isn’t clumsy or hesitant. He knew exactly what sir wanted him to do. He stays still instead of fidgeting. He never chokes or makes a sound. He remembers to keep his eyes down, and he speaks to sir with nothing but subdued respect. There’s no fear in him. No emotion at all. He’s perfect for sir. Far better than Carter will probably ever be.

  A hole is a hole. That’s what sir had said.

  Had Carter really believed he was special somehow? That perhaps sir liked him?

  How pathetic of him. How silly. Carter is nothing but a hole to the man. Granted, Carter’s hole has added benefits, symbolizing power, giving sir something to taunt Maison with, but that’s his worth. That’s all he is. And sir doesn’t have to like him to wield Carter in those ways. Sir doesn’t even have to use him.

  A hole is a hole.

  It hurts so badly, Carter’s not sure he’s managing to breathe around the pain. He starts crying at some point. Or maybe he’s been crying the whole time and is just now noticing it.

  Todd says the tears are pretty.

  Sir chuckles and agrees.

  By the time Carter has been pulled to his feet, steady tears falling down his cheeks, a drink tossed in his face, Carter has realized exactly how insignificant he is to sir. Sir lied. Sir doesn’t care about him. He’s clearly enjoying the night just fine. He had said those things and made those promises earlier to trick Carter into behaving for their guest. He hadn’t meant them.

  Carter wishes he had the energy to throw a fit and show Todd Henley exactly how misbehaved he can be, but just the thought of it is draining. It takes everything for Carter to even walk as a slave leads him away from the dinner guests who are still laughing at him. He has nothing left for rebellion.

  The slave brings him to a drink cart near the kitchen where the other slaves who were ordered to get refills are standing.

&nbs
p; “Is it your first time with someone other than the master of the house?” the slave who rescued him asks quietly as they wait in line.

  Since Carter assumes that his sir is the master of the house, he nods. “Yeah…”

  “I thought so. We were all wondering. None of us have seen him share you at all.”

  “Is that… bad?” Carter asks, looking around to make sure no one is listening to them.

  “That Master Roarke doesn’t like to share you?” the slave in front of Carter asks, turning halfway to look at Carter. His eyes narrow as he takes in Carter’s appearance. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re fucking lucky.”

  It takes a moment for Carter to place the slave. Then he realizes he’s the one sir is using tonight. Carter’s replacement. He hates himself for the angry burst of jealousy he feels towards the young man. It’s not like he wants to be here. He’s in the same boat as Carter.

  The slave beside Carter continues the conversation. “I’d give anything to be Master Roarke’s. Is he nice in private? I bet he is. He’s so fucking gentle, even with the others around.”

  “Maybe he’s really fucking nasty in private,” the only female slave mutters, eyeing up her glass as she considers how much vodka to pour into it.

  Another slave scoffs. “So fucking true. That’s how Master Mica is. He acts all relaxed and indifferent in front of the other men, almost like he doesn’t know what to do with us, but in private…” the slave trails off, shaking his head with a sigh.

  The slave sir is using tonight finishes the thought. “He’s a sadistic fuck.”

  “That’s an understatement,” the slave beside Carter jokes.

  “What do you expect?” the female asks. “He’s their interrogator. Dude is fucking vicious. I heard he once disemboweled someone and then used their own intestines to strangle them to death.”

  The slave who had first brought up Mica rolls his eyes. “That’s not even possible.”