These Monstrous Deeds

by T. J. Hamel

  Carter traces a finger along the edge of one of Nathan’s scars. Something is twisting in his gut. Something… he doesn’t like. “Isn’t that making you enemies?”

  "Well, it's not like I leave them hanging around. And those who worked under them know it's best to conform."

  Carter frowns. "Did you know that J.F.K. had his own elite group of men who would infiltrate governments and assassinate major leaders he didn't like?"

  Nathan sounds amused for some reason when he answers. "I may have read that somewhere, yes."

  "One of his staffers was interviewed way down the road, like when everything became unclassified." Carter turns in Nathan's arms, resting his chin on his chest so he can look at him. "When talking about his assassination, he pretty much said something along the lines of, Well, what did J.F.K. expect? He started it."

  Nathan's lips twist into a smirk. "Are you implying that I'm going to get iced, Carter?"

  "If that means killed, then yes." Carter nibbles his lip, feeling his cheeks go hot. "Or, at least, I'm worried about it. A… bit."

  The amusement in Nathan's expression suddenly softens, replaced by fondness. "Nothing will happen to you, even if that does happen. Benny will make sure of it."

  "I'm not worried about me. Honestly, I'd probably be better off in the long run. It's you I don't want to see hurt…"

  "What?" Nathan sits up then, turning to give Carter his full attention. "You'd be better off?"

  Carter winces. "That sounds worse than I meant it to. I just… if someone else owned me, I'd be a normal slave. I'd be like the others. I get that you refuse to let me break or whatever, but that's because of how you feel about me. Whoever took me next wouldn't have the same qualms. They'd want to break me."

  "And you think you'd be better off broken?" Nathan practically growls.

  "I don't know, honestly. But you have to see where I'm coming from. You're a smart man. My mind is full of fire and passion. My mind was working towards one day fighting the very thing I've fallen victim to. I have the mind of a protester. An activist. An unapologetic snowflake. You've trapped that mind in a body that has to obey to survive. That has to sit back quietly while others get hurt and killed. That has to take whatever is handed to it and thank the person after. You have to see how awful that is, Nathan. I know you do."

  Nathan’s nostrils flare. "So, what? You'd really rather me mentally break you? Just make you empty and worthless? Truly just holes?"

  Carter looks off to the side, his eyes burning. He hadn't meant for this to be a conversation. At least not tonight. Not after they've just confessed their love only hours before.

  But he won't lie.

  "I think I've gotten glimpses of what it'd be like, Nathan. I think you've shoved me into that mindset a few times, not enough to stick, but enough where I know what it feels like. It's a fuzzy feeling. It's… safe." Carter forces himself to look at Nathan then, filled with a sudden desperation for him to understand. "Things are so simple in that headspace. I'm nothing. All I have to do is obey. That's it. That's all my brain has to focus on. That's all the energy I have to expend. I don't feel hungry or thirsty. I don't feel scared or hurt. I just… float."

  "Carter-"

  "Do you want to know what I feel like every single day?" Nathan looks like that's the last thing he wants to know, but he nods anyway. Carter doesn't sugarcoat it. “It feels like I’m constantly walking on a tightrope. Every second, I'm always on the knives edge between the slave you want me to be and the mind you want me to keep. It's this awful, constant balancing act, and I really want to jump, Nathan. I spend every second fighting the urge to just fucking jump."

  “I know. I know, Carter. I see it. But I - I can't let you. You have to stay with me." Nathan looks him in the eyes, his expression anguished and pleading. "You have to stay."

  "Yeah." Carter lays back down, grabbing his moose. There's nothing to say to that. Nothing to do. His mind belongs to Nathan, just like everything else. There's no point in arguing. He shouldn't have even brought it up in the first place. It was stupid. "I'm staying, Nathan. Don't worry. I'm aware I have to. Trust me, there’s nothing I’m more aware of.”

  “Carter-”

  “But you know I’ll break one day, right? Like, medically speaking, there is a point where a person’s brain breaks. My stubbornness will only last so long. I’m not superhuman.”

  Nathan looks away from him, jaw working. “That won’t happen. It won’t. I won’t let it.”

  “Oh, so you’re superhuman, then?” Carter asks with a huff.

  “I don’t share you anymore. I told you I love you. I don’t have to force you. I give you pleasure as often as I can. I take care of you. You love me back.” Nathan looks at him again, his expression impossibly fierce. “You act like you have to endure what the other slaves do. You’re fucking spoiled compared to all of them. You’re not going to break.”

  “Okay, Nathan.” Carter lies down, turning onto his side so his back is to the man that he’s contemplating punching. “Let’s just drop it.”

  With a frustrated sigh, Nathan switches off the TV and sets the light near the door to its lowest setting. He waits an awkwardly long time before finally laying down on his side of the bed. Carter holds his breath, waiting for the inevitable. There’s no way Nathan will drop this. Carter knows him too well.

  Sure enough - “Tell me how to fix this.”

  Carter says nothing. It’s not to be stubborn, he just has no idea how to fix it. He doesn’t know if fixing it is even possible.

  Unless…

  “Nathan?”

  “Yes?”

  Carter swallows hard. Is he really going to do this? Is he really going to finally put words to the thoughts bouncing inside his head the past few days? The thoughts he’s been so afraid of, he can’t even look at them straight on?

  Yes.

  He has to.

  “You said once that you might kill me, after you’re done with me.” When Nathan says nothing, just holding perfectly still, Carter pushes forward. “I was wondering if maybe you’d promise me you’ll do that.”

  “Promise to do what?”

  “Kill me.”

  ◆◆◆

  There are very few moments in his life that Nathan can point to and say, yes, that there, that was when everything changed. When he was orphaned. When he joined the military. When he became Nathan Roarke. When he first laid a hand on the only boy he’s ever raped. When he realized he had fallen in love with Carter Beckett.

  And now.

  With two words.

  Kill me.

  “Carter.” Nathan tries to swallow, but his throat is impossibly tight. He sounds choked as he forces himself to continue. “Whatever you heard, whatever I said – you have to know that’s not the case. I love you. I’d never kill you. Never sell you. Never, Carter.”

  Carter doesn't relax at that. He tenses up, then jerks around in Nathan's hold so he can look at him. His eyes are wide and panicked. His nostrils flare. "No, please."

  "Please?"

  "Please kill me, Nate. When it's all over. When I'm not needed anymore. Please."

  "Carter-" Nathan breathes, unsure how he’s managing to breathe at all.

  "If you really love me, you'll do it." A tear falls down Carter's cheek. His fingers scrabble as they grip desperately at Nathan's arm. "Please, Nate. Promise you'll kill me. Promise you'll set me free. I'll be so good until then, so fucking good. I won’t break. I’ll stay Carter for you. I won’t jump off the tightrope, not ever, but you have to give me this. You have to put a light at the end of the tunnel. Please just make it quick and finally put an end to it all."

  Biles crawls along the back of Nathan's throat. Oxygen sets fire to his lungs. "No."

  The boy sobs. It sounds eerily similar to the way he had cried when Nathan had beaten him at the party.

  "Please," he begs, the word slurred by his sobs. "Please, sir. Nathan. Please. I can’t stick around forever. Love me or not, I’ll be used up even
tually. I’ll get old. You’ll get bored. I - just - god, Nate, please. Just say you’ll do it. Promise me you’ll do it.”

  "Carter, that's enough."

  "I'll do it myself!" the boy warns.

  For a moment, Nathan almost scoffs.

  Then he sees the look in Carter's eyes. He's fucking serious. He'll do it.

  Carter refuses to live this life any longer than he has to. He’s made up his mind. When did that happen? When did Carter come to the conclusion that death would be better than this?

  "If you don't promise," the boy says carefully, having managed to get his crying under control enough for him to have a rational conversation. He must have sensed Nathan's wavering. Is Nathan wavering? "I'll do it before you catch Maison. I'll ruin your plans."

  "Sweetheart…"

  "I almost did it once already."

  Nathan's world tilts. He lurches into a sitting position, his heart pounding hard enough for the beat to echo in his throat. "What?"

  "After the party. I had it planned, but then…" Carter looks away from him, shrugging. "God, I was so tired. I couldn't get myself to do it."

  That's it.

  It's the final straw.

  Nathan can’t protect this boy. Not from himself. Carter said it already - he’s not fucking superhuman.

  This isn’t working anymore. Things have to change.

  Nathan tells his best lie yet. He takes Carter's face in his hands, presses their foreheads together, and whispers, "If you promise to stay with me until I’m done with you, if you promise to remain unbroken, then yes, I'll kill you. I promise I'll kill you. I'll make it quick. Painless. And when we rape you, when it's time to hurt you in front of Maison, I'll drug you so you're too out of your mind to even feel it."

  Carter shudders as a sob of relief racks his body. He falls forward, burying his face in Nathan's neck and wrapping his arms and legs around him.

  "Thank you!" he sobs. Once he's started, he can't seem to stop. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

  It takes forever for him to cry himself out. Even then, he keeps whispering breathy little thank you's.

  By the time the boy finally passes out in Nathan's arms, Nathan has come to a decision. One he's willing to die for if necessary.

  He carefully extracts himself from Carter, pulling a blanket over the boy. Then he grabs his phone and heads into the bathroom.

  He locks the door.

  He turns on the sink.

  He dials.

  3 rings.

  A clipped voice.

  “Name?”

  “Eagle 2.”

  “Code?”

  “7134.”

  “Hold.”

  A soft crackle.

  "Nate, hey man. Everything good?"

  "Yeah." Nathan laughs. "No, actually. No. Not at all, Maison. Nothing is good at all."

  Maison’s tone sharpens. "What's wrong?"

  Nathan closes his eyes, memories assaulting his brain like needles.

  A naked, trembling boy on a spanking bench, blindfold soaked in tears. Nathan placing his hand on the boy’s pink ass cheek, running a thumb along the edge of a welt from that damn riding crop Quinton allowed his men to use. The soft, “Please don’t.” The gasps. The whimpers. The fear so thick Nathan could taste it on the back of his tongue. The wrecked, awful sob as Nathan began to rape his virgin hole.

  A naked, trembling boy hoisting himself up to straddle Nathan’s lap. Big blue eyes avoiding Nathan’s gaze. The boy struggling to breathe. His cheeks burning red as Nathan slides fingers into his hole to prep him. The soft, “Oh,” when Nathan finds his prostate. The roll of his hips. The tears of shame building. The squelch of lube. Nathan’s own voice, foreign and awful as he orders, “Up.” Carter’s head shaking frantically, “No, no, no, no, no,” falling from his lips in desperation. Someone spanking Carter to hurry him along. The sobs muffled against the skin of Nathan’s throat. The uncontrollable shivers. The soft cock the boy is trying desperately to get to cooperate. Nathan forcing himself to shift gears to get this shit over with.

  A naked, trembling boy tossed over the arm of a chair, sobbing so loud Nathan can feel the sounds rattling inside his chest. Nathan fucking the boy like he’s nothing but a hole. The boy going quiet. Pliant. Lifeless. Just empty blue eyes and dried tear tracks on ruddy cheeks.

  A naked, trembling boy spread out on the bed in the dungeon, ass in the air, face twisted in pain. The harsh thud of a paddle on skin. The mocking laughter of Nathan’s men. The sharp slice of the cane. The boy sobbing. Screaming. Writhing. The desperate apologies. A cock rubbing against sheets in search of relief. Nathan’s awful, “Look at this fucking slut.” Nathan putting hands on his poor body, forcing him to humiliate himself some more as his men enjoy the show. Piss soaking the sheets. A boy’s voice, distant and cold as he apologizes yet again. Nathan calling him sweetheart. The pet name making him cry even harder. A deflated boy who looks… empty.

  A naked, trembling boy at the feet of Todd Henley.

  “How’s the slut?”

  “He’s very pretty when he cries.”

  A naked, trembling boy flushing with arousal and excitement.

  “Are you going to eat me all up, Nathan?”

  “It’s tempting, little red.”

  A naked, trembling boy desperate to be used.

  “I want to fuck you now.”

  “Yes. Now. Great. Do that.”

  A naked, trembling boy terrified as he watches his best friend inch towards the brink of death.

  “Casey. Please, sir. He won’t survive it. Give them me.”

  “You should probably worry about your own survival right now, you fucking idiot. Don’t you remember what I told you would happen if you did something like this? Why do you always have to fucking ruin everything?”

  A naked, trembling boy feeling sick and helpless.

  “I hate needles.”

  “Do whatever you need to. I’ll hold him down if that’s what it takes.”

  A naked, trembling boy-

  “Nathan!” Maison yells. The tone of his voice indicates this isn’t the first time he’s said his name. “Nathan!”

  Nathan pushes to his feet. He looks at his reflection in the mirror. The same one he stared at earlier. The image of the man Carter Beckett loves.

  He takes a very deep breath.

  Then, "It's time, Maison."

  "Time?"

  And Nathan has never felt so sure of anything.

  "It's time we tell Carter the truth."

  NOTE FROM T.J.

  Hey my lovely reader!

  First, I’d just like to say a huge THANK YOU for reading this book. It’s a story that’s been bouncing around in my mind for a while now, and I just had to tell it. I hope you loved the characters and loved (even when you hated) their story!

  If you enjoyed this read, please do this self-published author the BIGGEST favor by leaving a quick review! This business runs on reviews, and the more I’m able to grow, the more time I get to spend writing for you!

  If you’d like to keep up to date on my writing, or if you just want a place to hang out and talk about hot men kissing, consider joining my PRIVATE Facebook group here: Hamel’s Homies. It’s not only the perfect place to just have fun and chat with people who share your interests, but my Homies have the added benefit of seeing exclusive content, getting to interact with me personally, and getting the first in all updates for upcoming books!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  T.J. Hamel

  T.J. Hamel is the pen name for a crazy writer from the Midwest that spends far more time than she should reading and writing about sexy men doing sexy things. In between those activities, she’s taking naps, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and hanging out with her nerdy husband and beautiful daughter.

 

 

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