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Chapter Six
ThemomentCarterwakesup, he’s asking if Nathan has heard anything from Benny.
It takes a lot of effort for Nathan to keep his face straight. “I got a message that he had landed and would update me soon, but nothing since.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Just over two hours ago.”
Carter’s eyes narrow. “Is that okay? For it to have been so long?”
“I expect to hear from him soon,” Nathan says instead of answering the question directly. It’s not okay that there’s been nothing but silence for hours, but it’s notnotokay either. If it goes past six hours, he’ll worry.
In the meantime, they should really get moving. He let Carter sleep in a little because they were up so late, but after what happened yesterday they shouldn't give his men any reasons to act suspicious.
“Time to get ready,” Nathan urges, gesturing for the boy to get out of bed. “We can’t do anything about Benny and Casey right now. We need to go about things like normal.”
“Yeah, okay. But… can you do something for me?” Carter asks, his voice wavering.
Nathan doesn’t even have to think. “Anything.”
“Do you think you'd be able to put me in the right headspace? Like, is there something you could do maybe?" When Nathan takes too long to answer, not because he's hesitant but because he's trying to think of an idea, Carter hurriedly adds, "You've done it before. You've made me feel like absolutely nothing, like the morning of the party. I don't want it that extreme, but I just - I feel too much like Carter right now, and I don't want to get myself in trouble like yesterday."
“Okay.” Nathan shifts, setting his shoulders and allowing his demeanor to darken. His eyes narrow on Carter. The boy shudders before quickly dropping his gaze.Good. "I want you on the floor and kneeling. Now."
“Yes, sir.”
Something catches in Nathan’s chest. He ignores it.
The boy moves frantically, nearly falling off the bed before he sinks to his knes and bows his head. Nathan doesn't move or speak, making Carter wait. He can see what the suspense does to the boy within seconds, the way his entire body tenses, the way his breathing turns ragged, but Nathan has studied Carter meticulously, and he knows this is just the first stage. The second stage, the one where Carter lets himself go and sinks into submission, is what he's after.
It takes about a minute. Then the boy is relaxing, his breathing evened out, his hands no longer clenched at his side, his eyes heavy-lidded as they continue to stare at the floor.
Nathan moves then, coming forward to run a hand through Carter’s hair. The boy hums in appreciation, subtly pressing into the touch. “Good boy.”
Carter shivers, pushing even harder at Nathan’s hand. It reminds Nathan of a kitten. It makes him want to drag Carter to the bed and touch every inch of him until he has him purring.
Instead, he grabs the collar off of the dresser and wraps it around Carter's throat. Any remaining tension in the boy seeps out of him the moment the lock clicks. There's a relief in his expression when Nathan tilts his chin so he can check the fit of the collar. When they're eyes lock, Carter even smiles. Softly, of course. Submissively.
Nathan strokes Carter’s cheek before standing back.
“Follow me. Crawl." Carter obeys, moving behind Nathan as he walks to the closet. He stops beside his rack of suits that are black. Those are the suits that make him feel most like Nathan. Carter isn't the only one who needs the right headspace today. "You know what to do, pet. Get me dressed."
They sink into their routine easily then. A little too easily, probably. Nathan's aware it's not healthy to play these roles too much. He knows it'll only fuck with Carter more in the long run. But he's a selfish bastard, and he's willing to hide behind the logic that this is what's best for the case. Carter will have plenty of time to heal when this is all over, but only if he makes it out alive.Is it really so terrible that Nathan enjoys himself in the meantime? At least during these parts? The consensual moments? The quiet ones? When Carter doesn't look at him like he's the man who broke his heart, at best, and a monster, at worst?If the answer is yes, well… Nathan is used to being terrible anyway.
After Nathan is dressed and has put Carter's plug in for him - a moment that caught Carter off guard and brought the boy a little too close to the surface before he had swallowed hard and submitted again - Nathan grabs three things from his closet, two of which he had needed to sneak away and grab from the dungeon when Carter fell back asleep last night. Carter perks at the sight of the red rope, but quickly deflates when he sees the other two items. His eyes linger for a moment on the ring-gag, but then they lock onto the anal hook and don't even blink.
“Why?” Carter asks, his voice cracking on the single word.
“Because you were naughty." Nathan grabs Carter's chin between his fingers and thumb. He tries to keep his tone and expression cold. "You think last night was it for you? I might not be telling my men you hit me, but you did. And you told me no. Loudly. Do you get to tell your sir no, slave?"
Something flashes in Carter's eyes. If Nathan wanted to let himself hope, he'd say it looks an awful lot like arousal. Fear too, though. Since he doesn't like the whole hope thing, he focuses on just the fear. He softens his tone and asks, "You want to be good for me, right?"
Carter’s gaze flicks to Nathan’s hand where he’s holding all three items. “Y-yes, sir.”
“You’re already open from the plug. The hook is the same size." Nathan squats down, hovering his face just inches from Carter's. "It won't hurt. In fact, it'll feel good. Right up against your prostate. You'll be leaking in no time." Carter's cheeks go pink and Nathan laughs. "That's the part my men will like the most. And that pretty blush. You're going to crawl around bound, gagged, hooked in the ass, probably even hard, and you're going to be humiliated. They're going to fucking love it. And that's what we want, right? That's how we win this little game."
“Right, sir.” Carter finally looks back at Nathan, seeming to relax a little about the toys. "Sorry for questioning, sir."
