These Monstrous Deeds

by T. J. Hamel

  “You have to tell me if it’s too much.” He approaches Carter slowly, a predator afraid to spook his prey. Nathan locks eyes with him before slowly, carefully, lifting his hand to cup Carter’s right cheek. He brushes his thumb along the delicate line of the boy’s chin. The boy leans into his palm. Nuzzles it. “You won’t get in trouble, but you have to tell me.”

  “Okay.”

  “No, Carter. Promise. Promise me you’ll tell me.”

  Carter raises his hand, pressing it against Nathan’s. There’s nothing but trust in his eyes. Well, trust and arousal. “I promise.”

  “Alright.” Nathan clears his throat before jerking his head in a nod. “Alright.”

  He stands, reaching for the rope now. Carter’s eyes lock onto it immediately. His breathing goes rapid. His body trembles.

  “You okay?” Nathan asks, his hands worrying the red rope.

  “I’m fine, Nate.” Carter licks his lips before offering a shaky smile. “I trust you.”

  Don’t. God, don’t do that, Carter. I don’t deserve it.

  Nathan takes Carter’s hands in his, hoping the boy can’t feel the way his own hands are unsteady. He stays still and quiet like the perfect little slave as Nathan wraps his wrists with the soft rope. It’s almost soothing to begin binding the boy, every intricate knot steadying him, every stretch of red across pale skin an echo of peace.

  After guiding the rope through one of Carter’s knots, Nathan brings the material up to one of the metal rings near the top of the bedframe that he never thought he’d actually use, tying off the ends and tugging at the rope twice to make sure the boy can’t possibly escape. His cock is so hard it aches.

  More rope around the boy’s legs. Bright red securing one ankle to the intricately carved wooden bedpost on his left. The process repeated until the other ankle is secured on the right.

  “Watching you do this is unfairly hot,” Carter says breathlessly.

  That startles a laugh out of Nathan, the pressure in his chest releasing. He grins at the boy before him, taking him in now that he’s all wrapped up and ready to go.

  Carter looks like a goddamn dream.

  He looks like the most dangerous thing Nathan has ever encountered.

  The way Carter is looking at him, eyes hooded, tongue resting on his bottom lip, cock leaking, could very easily become Nathan’s new addiction. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”

  A deep blush spreads across the visible skin on the boy’s face and down his slim throat before moving across his chest. His stomach is smooth and pale before the flush picks back up at the root of his cock. His cock grows darker as the skin stretches towards the very tip of it, a small drop of precum glistening against the nearly purple head. Nathan wants to lick it.

  Then he realizes he can. They’re alone. No one is around to judge him for putting a slave’s cock in his mouth.

  Pressing his hands on the mattress to frame Carter’s hips, Nathan lowers his head and wraps his lips around Carter’s cock. He darts his tongue out to catch the moisture that’s been teasing him before pushing downward until the boy’s entire cock is nestled in his mouth and brushing the beginning of his throat. The noises spilling out of Carter are fucking obscene. Nathan could quite possibly come just from sucking this boy’s nice little cock and listening to his sounds of uninhibited pleasure.

  “Sir!” Carter gasps, his hips jerking the minuscule amount allowed with the restraints. “Sir, I’m – oh fuck. Nathan. I’m going to come.”

  Nathan pulls off with a chuckle, standing back. He’s unsure what he loves more – the boy’s sad whimper, the sight of his spit-soaked cock helplessly bobbing in the air, or the adorably sexy pout on the boy’s face. “You won’t be coming until I say, but good try, sweetheart.”

  The boy whines. “Sir, please.”

  “So needy,” Nathan teases.

  “It’s been like – like an entire fucking day of foreplay!” Carter tugs at the restraints, but it’s a weak attempt. The ropes don’t even pull taut. He whines again. It’s pathetic. It’s endearing. “This is torture. Hurry up and fuck me!”

  Nathan arches his eyebrow, smirking. “Oh sweetheart, if you think this is torture, you have another thing coming.”

  “Ummm, no thanks!” Carter says in an adorably high voice, his blue eyes wide. “Just kidding. Not torture. Like… at all. This is great!”

  “That’s what I thought.” Nathan chuckles darkly. “But for the complaints, you’re going to have to wait an extra bit before I give you my cock.”

  “Sir…”

  Before Carter can accidentally dig himself any further in the hole, Nathan squats down at the foot of the bed and takes advantage of the boy’s position by burying his face between Carter’s plump little ass cheeks. The boy squeaks. Then, as Nathan very slowly licks Carter’s tight furl, the boy moans wantonly.

  It’s not long before Carter has dissolved into a frantic, jumbled mess of syllables and noises that make absolutely no sense apart from the very obvious one – it feels really fucking good.

  “You taste damn good,” Nathan growls against the boy’s hole before stiffening his tongue and pressing it deep inside him. The muscles of Carter’s body twitch as his cock spurts a few beads of precum onto his stomach.

  A dangerous possessiveness encircles Nathan. “You smell like me. Like you. Like us. Fuck, Carter.” Nathan bites at the boy’s hole, unable to help himself. Carter shouts, his body jerking again, his babbling sounds growing more frantic.

  It isn’t until Nathan is sliding a finger into Carter’s hole, lapping at the boy’s tight rim as he stretches it, that Carter finally finds some semblance of his brain. Enough to slur, “Sir, please.”

  Nathan ignores him, continuing to open him up nice and slow, his fingers and tongue moving in tandem to systematically take this boy apart. Soft sobs begin to catch in Carter’s chest when the second finger is added. His cheeks are damp with tears by the time the third has been fully worked inside of him. The stumbling pleas escaping him transform into desperate begging when Nathan pulls at 3 fingers out to leave him gaping and empty.

  “Sir, please, sir!” Nathan carefully traces around the boy’s rim with the tip of his tongue. “Oh god!” Nathan pokes his entire tongue into his hole and swirls it. “Nate!” Nathan nips at his rim. “Sh-shhh-shhhiiiiitt.” Nathan nips at him again. “Fuck, stop!”

  Nathan rears back, heart racing, stomach heavy and acidic. His hands shake as he tries to find the knot of Carter’s right ankle bindings.

  “Wait, no!” Carter shouts. Nathan pulls his hands away like the rope burned him. If Carter won’t even let him untie him… he’ll have to go get Benny. His friend will fucking kill him. But if that’s what Carter wants, then he’ll – “I didn’t mean really stop. Don’t stop. Oh god, Nathan, don’t you dare fucking stop! Get back to work immediately!”

  Still feeling damn unsure, Nathan rests his body between Carter’s spread legs and reaches up to run a hand through Carter’s unruly hair. Carter blinks, more tears falling down his cheeks, but he gives Nathan a fucked-out grin when their eyes lock. “’S good, Nate. Sooo fuckin’ good. Don’t stop, please don’t stop, never fuckin’ stop.”

  With a shuddery sigh of relief, Nathan presses a kiss to Carter’s salty lips. He licks them free of tears. Then he drags his tongue up to lick away the rest of them on his cheeks. Before he can worry that Carter is disgusted, the boy is releasing a shuddery breath beneath him, lifting his chin to press harder against Nathan’s mouth.

  “I want to fuck you now,” Nathan rasps.

  “Yes. Now. Great. Do that.”

  Nathan releases a shuddery breath of his own. He reaches between his legs to shove his sweatpants down to his thighs, wrapping his hand around the root of his cock and rubbing his thumb beneath the crown. It throbs and aches in his palm. His heart is pounding. “I don’t want to use lube, but it’ll hurt, sweetheart.”

  Carter licks his lips, his eyes hooded as he tries to decide if he should loo
k at Nathan’s face or his leaking cock. “You said you want to hurt me.”

  “I do. But not if you don’t want that.”

  “Hurt me,” Carter breathes. His lashes are still wet. His cheeks flushed. His cock hard and dripping. His gaze has finally decided what it wants to focus on. Nathan’s cock. “Tear me apart, Nathan. Use me. It’s okay.”

  “If you want to stop, you have to tell me. You have to-” Nathan pauses, his mind spinning in desperation as it fights against the urge to shove his cock into the boy in front of him and fuck him senseless. They have to come at this a different way. Just saying stop won’t be enough. Not if it’s anything like what happened just now. Nathan’s eyes catch on the red rope wrapped around Carter’s pretty skin. “Red. If you want to stop, you have to say red, okay?”

  “Like- like a safe word?”

  “Yes.” This is so far from okay, you goddamn idiot. What are you thinking? “Red. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir. Red.”

  With the boy’s permission washing over him, Nathan presses the tip of his cock against Carter’s spit-slick hole and places both hands on the mattress to frame the boy’s head, leaning his entire body forward as he slowly pushes inside him. Carter whimpers, his hole fighting the intrusion, but Nathan ignores it. Ignores him.

  He’s a fucking monster, but Carter wants him that way tonight. It spins Nathan’s whole damn world.

  How did he get so lucky?

  How the hell is he ever going to let this boy go?

  Nathan bottoms out. He doesn’t give Carter the chance to adjust. He doesn’t even give him the chance to catch his breath. Nathan just grabs the knots at Carter’s hips and pulls back before snapping forward hard enough to shove a wrecked sob from the boy beneath him. He does it again. Again. Again. The tight heat around his cock is agonizingly pleasurable, the sounds Carter is making drawing him towards the edge already. It’s going to be tough to last long. Damn near impossible. Consensual rough sex with Carter Beckett just might be the death of him.

  Grip tight on the knotted rope, Nathan uses Carter’s own body against him, dragging him back and forth as he fucks into him with abandon. He can tell by the boy’s reactions that Carter feels good, but he isn’t where Nathan wants him to be. Not yet.

  Nathan tugs at the ropes as hard as he can, pulling restraints taut, forcing Carter’s body into a slight tilt. He grips the base of Carter’s throat in a possessive hold that will keep the boy somewhere between choking and breathing.

  The next time Nathan fucks into him, Carter screams. Actually fucking screams. Nathan feels his lips split into a wicked grin in victory. He focuses on that exact position, holding Carter down by his throat, nailing his prostate over and over again until the boy is wailing.

  “Come for me,” Nathan growls, fucking him even harder, even faster. Fucking him until he can hear the hitch of Carter’s breath as his cock forces the boy to choke on air. “Come on my cock, sweetheart. Be a good boy for me.”

  Carter shudders in the restraints, his eyes fluttering closed. Nathan pounds into him three more times before the boy arches his back and comes. With a breathless laugh that’s just shy of giddy, Nathan continues fucking into him, enjoying the mewling sounds of the boy beneath him.

  Nathan eases his grip on Carter’s throat, bringing the hand down to run the tips of his fingers up and down Carter’s spent cock. The boy shivers. Moans. Whines. He shakes his head, bucking his hips. His cheeks are damp. His eyes wide. “Sir.”

  “What?” Nathan asks with a false innocence.

  “Too – too sensitive,” he gasps. “Too much.”

  Nathan leans forward to press his lips against the base of Carter’s throat. He drags them up the elegant curve of his neck until he reaches that sensitive spot right below the boy’s ear. He nips at it. Licks it. Sucks it. His hand wraps around Carter’s cock, squeezing it just shy of too hard as he ruts against the boy’s ass.

  Carter sobs, shaking his head desperately. He fights the bindings hard enough to make the rope creek and stretch. “Sir, stop! Oh god. Stop, stop, stop. I can’t!”

  “Maybe I’ll make you come again,” Nathan growls. He removes his hand, chuckling at the boy’s sigh of relief. The sound turns into a pained whimper when Nathan presses every available inch of his body against Carter’s, pinning Carter’s cock between them. “Maybe I’ll make you come all fucking night long.”

  “No!” Carter shakes his head harder, his sobs choked. His hole squeezes Nathan’s cock rhythmically. It’s the best fucking thing he’s ever felt. “Sir, no!”

  “You can beg me to stop all you want,” Nathan growls. “But this tight little hole of yours is begging for more.”

  “Sir!”

  “Should I give it what it wants? Hmm?”

  “Oh god…” Carter gasps, eyes rolling.

  One hand on the boy’s throat, the other on his shoulder, Nathan holds him firmly in place as he fucks him senseless.

  “Yeah,” Nathan says, more to himself than anything. “You’re going to come again.”

  Carter tosses his head back, choking on his own sobs. “I caaaan’t!”

  “You can.” Nathan separates their bodies to spit on Carter’s bright red cock. The boy shouts at the stimulation, then sobs when Nathan adds a second glob. His sounds start to choke and fade when Nathan wraps his hand tight around his cock and begins to pump it. “You will come, Carter. Your body belongs to me. Don’t forget that.”

  “Nathan…” the boy slurs, his head rolling on his neck as he tries to stay coherent. There’s drool sliding down his chin and onto his chest. His eyes are glazed and distant.

  Nathan twists his wrist, ringing a startled cry from Carter. “Your safe word is red. Use it if you need to.”

  With a weak, pathetic little sob, Carter’s back arches, his breath catching. His wide eyes lock with Nathan’s as his face flushes red. He whispers a breathy, startled, “Oh, sir!” before his cock shoots for the second time, the release hot and sticky. He sucks in a shuddery breath before going lax against the mattress, his eyes fluttering shut. Nathan stares down at him, mesmerized.

  God, he’s so in love with this beautiful, perfect boy.

  So. Fucking. In. Love.

  He’s positively fucked.

  One more look at Carter’s blissed out expression and Nathan is finishing too, spilling his hot seed into the boy’s fluttering hole.

  “Fuck, Carter,” Nathan gasps, his hips rolling like he might be able to fuck his cum in deeper somehow. Stake a stronger claim by marking the boy inside and out. A permanent claim. “Fuck, you have no idea how much I-“ Nathan cuts himself off last minute, dropping his head between his shoulders as he catches his breath. The confession feels hot and heavy on his tongue. It hurts to swallow, hurts to keep in, but he manages.

  Nathan carefully pulls out of Carter and tugs his sweatpants up before immediately starting to free his boy. The knots he did were surprisingly well-done with his level of sobriety at the time. They unravel perfectly, the ropes unwinding exactly as they should, no worrying marks left behind on the revealed flesh. Nathan gently rubs the boy’s arms and wrists, then his thighs, legs, and ankles. All Carter does is moan in a sleepy sort of pleasure.

  The boy is out, either asleep or flying too high mentally to be present. He looks damn good in the dim lighting. Full of marks that Nathan gave him, still sticky with his release, Nathan’s cum dripping out of his loose hole.

  After using the bathroom and gently cleaning Carter up with a warm cloth, he tucks the boy in and returns to his seat on the lounge chair near the bed. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward to clasp his hands together. He’s grossly sober now.

  And still very much in love with Carter Beckett.

  Maybe even more so than before.

  Nathan stays there until morning, just watching the boy. Watching him sleep. Watching him breathe. Watching him lay there, safe from the horrors of the world outside the bedroom door.

  And all that time, as he
stays there unmoving, holding a silent vigil for the boy’s life that he himself is destroying, the one question Nathan wants so badly to ask him, the one question he had tried to drink away, tried to punch away, tried to fuck away, the one question he’ll never be selfish enough to voice, repeats itself in his mind:

  Why the fuck would Carter ever pick him?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Carter wakes up sore and satisfied. He also wakes up alone. He frowns, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Nathan – sir, he has to be sir again – isn’t in the chair like last night. For just a second, Carter worries that he made the entire thing up. That he had never woken up at all, his time with sir just another dream. Then he looks down at his body and sees that it’s positively littered with marks from the man aggressively fucking him last night. There’s no way it didn’t happen. He even has some subtle rope burn on his wrists.

  Wearing his marks like a warrior, Carter decides to be brave and go knock on the closed bathroom door. Maybe he can join sir in the shower again. He can call Carter little red, and Carter can offer himself up to be devoured. They could just spend all day in here, fucking and watching Harry Potter.

  Of course, this is reality. Carter is a sex slave, sir is his master, and life is not as easy as Harry Potter and great sex. That’s why Carter really shouldn’t be surprised when sir opens the bathroom door before he can even knock and immediately snaps at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I was – I just…” shit, he looks mad. He also looks impossibly sexy standing there with a towel loosely knotted around his waist, water dripping down his chest, pooling in his stomach muscles, his happy trail curlier than usual. His blonde hair is damp and messy, locks falling on his forehead.

  So. Fucking. Sexy.

  But also very fucking mad.

  “Were you just spying on me?” Sir squares his shoulders, chin lifting as his eyes narrow. He suddenly feels 10 feet tall and deadly. “Were you listening to me?”