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The men all look at each other. It’s Jason who has the courage to ask, “Can’t we watch the ending, sir? It’s just one more hit.”
“Doyouwant to be hit?” Nathan asks, tilting his head in curiosity. “Because that could be a show as well, Jason.”
Jason blanches. A few of Nathan’s men step back. “Sir, I didn’t mean to offend or overstep.”
“Then leave before you do it again.”
“Yes, sir.” Jason ducks his head, backing away. “Sorry, sir.”
He hurries out with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. The others follow suit. Benny is the only one who stays.
“Go,” Nathan says quietly, his eyes never leaving Carter’s abused body where it lies lifeless in a puddle of urine. “Please.”
“Nate, let me h-”
“Go.” Nathan meets his best friend’s eyes, knowing his own are filling with tears. “Just fucking leave me alone.”
Benny swallows hard, his eyes darting to Carter. Then he nods and steps away. Nathan hears the metal door’s industrial locks sliding into place.
Then it’s just Nathan and Carter.
“Last one,” Nathan whispers to the boy. He forces himself to breathe. To relax. He forces his hand to stop shaking. One hit at the wrong angle could hurt Carter much worse than he’d like. Much worse than the boy deserves. It was bad enough that Nathan escaped into his head and wasn’t careful earlier. He refuses to allow any further mistreatment. Hell, if Carter hadn’t turned his head to watch all of the men walk out, proving he’s still coherent, Nathan would have skipped the fourth hit and pretended he had administered it.
Maybe it’s a good thing Carter is still with him mentally, though.
Maybe it means he’s not broken.
The hit can barely be considered a hit. The cane taps against the skin, still enough to draw a gasp from the boy considering the state of his ass, but not enough to make him scream or sob.
“Come on,” Nathan encourages, dropping the cane and walking forward to rest his hands on Carter’s hips. Carter jolts at the touch before pushing back against it, desperate for comfort, for praise. “Just say your apology, sweetheart.”
The pet name causes Carter to cry harder, but he still manages to spill out his final apology, the words running together, an added sorry for pissing himself as if it’s his fault and not Nathan’s that he wasn’t allowed to piss this morning. The boy had tried to fuckingwarnhim.
Nathan breaks. “You did so well, sweetheart. Such a good fucking boy. You took that so well. That made sir very happy.”
All the tension seems to seep out of Carter’s body at the words, his hands relaxing where they had been clinging to the sheets. His face is covered in tears, and snot, and dried cum. His body is soaked in piss and sweat.
He’s beautiful, and so verystrong.
It physically hurts Nathan to look at him.
He can’t look away.
“I need to plug you,” Nathan realizes out loud, noticing the empty space between the reddened cheeks on display before him. There are two universal rules when it comes to a slave’s preparation in this world, the rest of the rules being left up to the owners. A slave should always be collared, and a slave should always be plugged.
Carter says nothing. Nathan supposes that makes sense. What is there to say? Nathan is going to do whatever he wants regardless.
He has to borrow a plug from the dungeon. None of them are as small as the plug Carter always wears, and the disinfectant available is a harsh one. His poor hole is going to probably be irritated, if not in pain.
At least there’s decent lube.
Nathan preps Carter carefully. Quickly. Clinically. He focuses on stretching the rim, not bothering to fuck into him or mess with his prostate. The scent of bodily fluids is thick in the air. Nathan is nearly gagging on it. He uses a liberal amount of lube when he presses the plug into the boy’s hole. Carter whimpers before going limp once again.
“Come here.” Nathan gently pulls Carter closer, turning him over. The boy hisses when his ass rubs against the soaked sheets, but he doesn’t fight Nathan. In fact, he doesn’t look like he could if he even wanted to. He’s too deflated. Almost… empty.
Oh god, please don’t be empty.
“Why would you do this?” Nathan asks, unable to stop how helpless he sounds. Howhurthe sounds. “After last night, why would you do this?”
