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“Are you indicating that I can’t handle my slave myself?”
“N-no, sir,” a man says from somewhere behind Carter. “Not at all!”
“Good.” Sir levels Carter with a gaze that leaves no
room for argument, anger flashing in his
eyes. “My men are right, though, pet. You are testing my patience. I suggest you stop.”
Carter forces himself to obey, lowering himself onto the massive cock waiting for him. He whimpers when it seems to catch after another inch or so. The prep wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
One of sir’s hands on his hips comes up to cradle the back of Carter’s neck. Sir pulls him in close until his face is pressed against the side of sir’s throat, his lips dragging along the shell of Carter’s ear. His breathing is ragged, as if he’s the one getting fucked. There’s a chance his hand is trembling slightly against Carter’s hip, but there’s also a chance that Carter has just gone crazy and is imagining things.
“I’ve got you,” sir whispers. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Just breathe. You’re alright.”
Carter grits his teeth to keep from snapping that he’s not alright, he’s being fuckingraped. The cock trying to push into his ass is too big, and the men in this room are too cruel, and all of this is too much, and Carter is being fuckedraped, andnothingisalright.
A sob falls from Carter’s lips, the skin of sir’s throat muffling the sound. It doesn’t seem to upset sir. The man just continues to hold Carter close, one hand on the back of his neck, the other moving down to his left ass cheek to pull at it. The shift is enough to ease the way for sir’s cock, allowing it to finally bottom out, but Carter burns in shame when the room erupts at what he’s sure is a lude view of his hole. Another sob is released against sir’s skin. Sir holds him tighter, not in a punishing way, but in a grounding way.
By the time sir is settled, Carter is slick with sweat and shivering uncontrollably. He refuses to open his eyes even though his face is still hidden in sir’s neck. He doesn’t move, either. He just sits in place and waits for instructions. The last thing he’s going to do is start fucking himself on sir’s cock before he’s forced to. No fucking way.
Surprisingly, sir doesn’t tell him to do anything. He just uses his hand on Carter’s ass cheek to slowly lift him up until his cock is an inch or so inside of him before using the hand on Carter’s neck to slowly push him back down it. Carter’s body is moved like that over and over, sir’s hips rolling every few seconds to meet him halfway. He whispers to Carter the whole time, telling him to breathe, telling him he’s going to be okay, telling him he’sso good, such a very good boy, taking his cock so fucking well.
In between praise, the man breathes ragged and heavy in Carter’s ear. The sound is sinful and dirty, and Carter hates himself for thinking it’s hot. He hates himself for the tiny part in the back of his mind that thinks that this would be good, if Carter had given his consent, if they didn’t have an audience, if sir saw him as human.
“Come on, sweetheart,” sir pants, the words quiet as if they’re a secret between them. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good on sir’s cock.”
Carter doesn’t want to, but sir is being nice, and he thinks it’s better to listen so sir keeps being nice. Tentatively, Carter begins to rock back against sir, moving with him in the slow, steady pace that sir has set. It does start to feel a little good, Carter’s cock twitching, but it’s not enough to make up for everything else that’s wrong with the situation.
When sir looks down to find Carter barely hard, he glances up to meet Carter’s eyes. Another tear falls down Carter’s cheek on accident. He winces when he sees the way sir’s expression shutters.
Sir closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, almost like he’s steeling himself. When he opens them again, Carter wants to scramble away. He swears there are monsters in the man’s eyes now. Monsters that want to eat Carter alive.
Sir stands abruptly, cock slipping out of Carter’s ass as he moves. He ignores the way Carter cries out in shock, just tossing Carter over the arm of the chair they were in a moment ago and yanking him by the hips so his ass is at a nearly impossible angle. He shoves into Carter again, hard and fast. Each sound Carter makes is loud and wrecked and the men in the room love it. Carter barely registers them, though. He’s too focused on sir’s cock, the man fucking into him like an animal now. Or, more accurately, likeCarteris an animal.
A pet.
Or something else. Something worse. Something inanimate and there solely for sir’s pleasure.
A toy.
Carter buries his face in the crook of his arm, starting to feel his mind going numb as he realizes that’sexactlywhat he is. What he’s become. Just a thing for sir’s pleasure. A thing for all of these men to laugh at. To maybe fuck, if they earn it. He’s a trophy. An object.
He’s not even Carter anymore.
Not even human.
He’s just sir’s.
Sir’s…nothing.
Nothing at all.
It’s almost a relief, to be nothing.
Carter’s not sure he’ll ever forgive himself for that.
