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Nathan nods, sharp, one time. It’s like a reset. Then he lunges forward and grabs Carter, fisting his hair and yanking him back. Carter reaches out for Casey, screaming his name, but he’s no match for Nathan. Casey tries the same, but he’s stopped by someone who must be his owner. A man Nathan recognizes, but can’t place at the moment.
Not that it matters. They both have naughty slaves to deal with. Andfastbecause all eyes are on them.
The man doesn’t hesitate. Casey is already crumpled on the floor, the man’s shoe kicking into his side.
Fuck.
Nathan turns Carter towards the table, slamming him down on it. Glass shatters, candlesticks shake, flames smoke out. A flute of champagne spills, soaking the blood red tablecloth until it’s nearly black. Nathan uses his grip on the boy’s hair to casually roll his head to the side so they’re face to face. He ignores Carter’s cry of pain.
Clinging tight to the rage he’s feeling towards this entire goddamn situation, Nathan wraps it around himself like a fucking protective cloak, and slips into the man these people believe him to be. “Big. Fucking. Mistake,” he growls.
“Sir-” Carter whispers in what can only be described as devastation. “I’m so sor-”
Nathan grabs his pocket square and shoves it into the boy’s mouth to cut off his apology. Carter begins to violently tremble then. Low keening sounds are emanating from his throat, muffled by the silk fabric stuffed in his mouth.
Casey is off the ground now, laid over a table just like Carter. His master is whipping the ever living shit out of him with a belt as his men hold the boy down. He’s already bleeding from cuts on his back.
Nathan curls his free hand into a fist, thinking fast. Carter has to hurt, and hurt badly, but he can’t get himself to do something likethatto him. Never.
Jesus Christ.
The host and his wife are standing a few feet away, eyeing Nathan in anticipation. There’s also a curiosity to their gazes, though. It’s interesting to them that Nathan hasn’t done anything yet. For now. Pretty soon it’ll be less interesting and more suspicious. They’ll start asking questions.
Nathan can’t have them asking questions.
“My apologies,” Nathan says to Jamie and Charles. He gives them his best smile. “Do you have somewhere I can straighten this one out privately? I don’t want him to disrupt your party further.”
His mistake, Nathan realizes too late, is that Carter being punished wouldn’t be a disruption to these people. It would beentertainment.
Charles gives Nathan a smile that’s dangerously wicked. “Why don’t you take him up on the platform and let us all watch?”
“What’s better than dinner and a show?” Jamie adds, giggling. “Oh, youhaveto, Nathan! Please?”
Nathan swallows hard, reminding himself of the person he’s built himself into. Cold. Uncaring. Dangerous. Violent. He smiles, the thing feeling sinister on his lips. “Of course. Lead the way.”
???
They’re raping Casey.
Carter can see it from where sir and Benny have him standing on the stage. They finally stopped whipping him once Casey went limp against the table, but now his master is letting anyone and everyone take turns with him. They aren’t even waiting. They’re using his ass, his mouth, his hands. Some are rubbing their cocks against his back, apparently not caring that it’s slick with fucking blood. Others are rutting against his hair.
Carter failed himagain. He got Casey in troubleagain. This is his fault.
This is all his fault.
He should be down there. That should be him.Why won’t they ever fucking hurt him? Why is it always Casey?
A metal stand is rolled up behind Carter, made of two sturdy poles that cross each other. Hands are all over him, forcing him to turn and face it, then wrenching his arms and legs to force his wrists and ankles into restraints until he looks like a sprawled-out X. The cloth was taken out of his mouth when Benny told sir that Carter was crying too hard and needed to be able to breathe. Carter hasn’t said anything, though. Partly because he’s afraid to be punished if he fucks up again, and partly because he hasn’t seen sir yet, and sir is the only person he’d be interested in speaking to right now.
Other than Casey, of course. Not that Casey looks like he’s capable of speaking right now if Carter’s view over his shoulder is any indication.
Casey’s awake again, at least. They’ve rolled him onto his back. Carter can see his eyes, wide as they stare up at the ceiling, slowly blinking. Only for a moment. Then his hair is grabbed, and a cock is getting shoved in his mouth, disrupting Carter’s view.
Carter forces himself to keep watching. He deserves it.
This was his fault.
Sir passes in front of Carter, holding something Carter doesn’t recognize in his hands. Whatever it is, it looks intimidating. Sir doesn’t even bother to look at Carter. He hasn’t acknowledged him at all since he had slammed him into the table and growled at him.
