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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.
