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Spending an entire day stuffed with an anal hook that’s forcing his head to stay raised is fucking exhausting. It’s also impossible to keep himself in the slave mindset that Nathan had put him in that morning.
By the timethe day is winding down and Nathan and his men are taking their after-dinner drinks in the side room, Carter is feeling 100% himself. It’s awful. And his body is fucking sore. And Nathan doesn’t look like he’s in any hurry to finish his drink and move them to the safety of the bedroom.
“Where the hell is Benny anyway?” someone asks, drawing Carter’s attention away from his miserable thoughts and sore muscles.
Dread trickles down his spine. He keeps his eyes locked onto the floor, wishing he could study the men's expressions as Nathan delivers the news. Instead, he has to sit perfectly still and rely on his interpretation of Nathan’s words and tone as the conversation goes on.
Nathan starts off sounding perfectly at ease when he responds with, “France.”
“France?” Jason questions. “What is he doing in France?”
Mica snorts a laugh. “Maybe he finally went on vacation.”
“Good joke,” one of the men Carter doesn’t recognize the voice of says. “I hope he took a dictionary with him. Not sure he understands the meaning of vacation.”
“Benny’s idea of a vacation is smashing heads together and smoking a cigar while men bleed out at his feet.”
“No, Mica,” Nathan says with a chuckle. “That’syourvacation dream that you’re thinking of.”
“Fuck, you’re right. You got me boss.”
The men all laugh.
“Actually, he’s in France making a purchase.” The laughter dies down, but the mood stays light. Carter stares at the floor until he feels like his eyes might fall out of his head. “I’ve decided to allow Benny to get himself a slave.”
The room goes deadly quiet. Carter’s heart pounds in his ears. Almost loud enough for him to miss Jason’s low, possibly-threatening, “But that’s against house rules.”
Breathe, Carter,he tells himself.Fucking breathe. Nathan can handle this.
“Yes.” Carter feels Nathan shift behind him, his legs brushing against Carter’s bare ass. He bites back a sound of discomfort when the movement jostles the hook inside him. “I’ve been considering changing the house rules. Now that I’ve seen for myself how nice it is to have my own little slut, I think it’d be good to allow some of you to get your own. Not everyone, of course. But it could be somewhat of a reward, in a way. My top men could be given personal slaves to show my appreciation for their hard work and loyalty.”
“That’d be fucking awesome!” Mica blurts. When Carter looks over at him, his stomach burns with acid. The man’s eyes are alight with sadistic possibilities, his lips stretched into a lecherous grin.
Nathan laughs. It makes Carter shudder. It sounds so genuinely cruel. So monstrous. “I’m only buying one slave for each of the men I choose, though. If you go overboard and kill yours, Mica, I am not replacing the damn thing.”
Carter curls his hands into fists at his sides and presses his tongue to the roof of his open mouth, trying not to scream or cry or do anything else that would ruin what sounds like a successful conversation that will secure Casey’s presence in this house.
It’s hard, though. Really fucking hard. They’re talking about killing slaves like a parent would talk about their children breaking toys. Carter was awfully clumsy as a child - he still is, he’ll admit. He broke toys often, and his mother usually spoiled him by replacing them, but he got a remote-control airplane once that was, in hindsight, probably more money than his mother should have spent, and his mother had warned him that if he broke it, he wouldn’t be getting it replaced. He had cried and cried when it had crashed into a tree. His mother had told him he should have been more careful, should have listened to her warning to only play with the plane in the backyard where there were no trees. Nathan is warning Mica about the life of a slave like his mother had warned him about his plane.
Some of the other men chime in. A few lament about getting their own slave, while the others mention how nice it will be to not have to share the house whores with so many others. They all start to ask questions. Ones that stick to Carter and burn like acid, straight through his skin and down to his fucking soul.Can I buy myself a new personal slave if I kill the first, or do I lose the privilege altogether? Can we get some new communal whores too? Oh boss, please, if I earn a spot, will you get me a trans boy? If we get new communal whores, can we all fuck the ones we have now until they die? Can I get a trans boy too? Can we get a communal trans whore?
They’re all thankfully too distracted to notice that Carter is beginning to tremble, violently, but Nathan is paying attention to him. He must be. Carter flinches when he first feels the cool fingers wrap around his shoulders, but then he releases a breath and sinks back into the hold. The grip isn’t tight enough to bruise, but it’s not loose either. Somewhere in the middle. Grounding him. Reminding him of who he belongs to. Reminding him that here, with Nathan, he’s safe. Carter closes his eyes and lets his mind drift to that safe place that will make all of this much easier to endure.
“Benny and his new slave will be a test run," Nathan announces, the men quieting to give him their full attention. "He’s buying a used one now, but you can all buy new if you would prefer. As my second, I figured it was only right he gets one first. If him having a personal slave doesn't seem to upset the balance we have in the house, then I'll be open to choosing more men to have the honor."
“Translation being - keep your greedy hands to your fucking selves," Mica tells everyone at the table, pointing a finger at Jason specifically. "Don't any of you fuckers ruin my chances of getting my personal little fuck doll. You hear me?"
They all laugh some more. A few questions are asked about the slave Benny is getting, mostly wondering why he would choose a used no. No one seems to bat an eye when Nathan explains that it's the slave of DuGray's that got himself in trouble. He mentions, almost offhand, that Benny has been itching to get his hands on the boy ever since. Something about him looking almost exactly like someone in Benny's past. The men get a kick out of that, of course, all wondering who in Benny's past the boy reminds him of - ex-boyfriend, brother, childhood bully. Nathan just laughs and says he didn't question him.
Carter breathes a sigh of relief as the topic of conversation finally veers elsewhere. He was terrified that these men would get upset about Benny buying Casey. That they’d rebel against the idea hard enough for Nathan to back down. That they’d at the very least be suspicious.
Breathing the sigh of relief is Carter’s mistake. Apparently while he was enjoying his relief, Nathan was thinking it’s time to put on a fucking show.
Nathan wraps his fingers around the metal bar at the small of his back and tugs the hook upward, forcing the plug to press inside Carter just short of too hard. It’s nothing like the subtle shifting that’s been occurring all day when he adjusted his position or crawled around. It’s targeted. Intense. Carter tries to release his breath, but it’s caught somewhere in his chest, blooming into something monstrous and suffocating.
The tension on the hook eases, the plug settling inside him. Then Nathan tugs again, the movement slow and deliberate. He eases, then tugs again. And again. And once more.
Then he does something different, moving the hook in a way that’s more of a rolling motion than a tug. It rubs all around that way - including against his prostate. The breath that he had been holding escapes him in a violent puff. When he tries to suck in air to replace it, he cries out instead. His body jerks forward just as Nathan starts another roll. He starts to fall, his stomach swooping in fear, but then Nathan grabs one of the knots of rope against his back and keeps him up just before he can faceplant. The man holds him there, suspended on his knees, off-balance, with an anal hook heavy in his ass. The men clap. Carter’s pretty sure he blushes from the tips of his ears to his fucking toes.
