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Without meaning to, I look at the man who owns Carter - Nathan. I wince as I remember how cruel the man had been at the party. How Carter had screamed and sobbed, even after he was gagged. I quickly look away. "He has hurt you. I've seen it."
The words weren't meant to be said out loud, but it's too late to take them back. I try to breathe through the panic as I wait to be yelled at. How dare I accuse a master of hurting a slave? I’m going to be in so much trouble…
Carter is fumbling now, probably starting to realize this is a game. "He - well, right. I - I guess that’s true, yeah. But it was part of the act. He needed to play the part of my master or people would have known he was undercover. Didn’t you explain all this?”
He's speaking to Master at the end there, and I almost chastise my friend to speak more respectfully to the man.
Master sounds frustrated when he answers him. "Yes, but it’s a lot to take in, Carter. Be patient."
"Casey, come on. Talk to me," my friend begs, not being patient at all. "You know you’re saved, right? We saved you. This place is temporary, but then we’ll be free again. Like we were before all this. We can - we can do whatever you want. You could swim again!”
You could swim again.
The words are like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath and forcing tears to my eyes. I duck my head, hoping to hide that I’m crying. I don’t want to make Master angry.
"I'm happy here.” I don’t let myself think about swimming. I can't think about that. "I - I don't wish to go anywhere or do anything else. Mas - Benny makes me very happy."
I suck in a sharp breath after finishing the sentence. I shouldn't have used Master's fake - or whatever the hell it actually is - name, knowing it's another thing I’ll be punished for. I had done it to show I’m being a good boy and playing the game, but I realize now it might have been a step too far. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Maybe we should all take a break," Carter’s master says. "Give everyone a chance to process."
"But-" Carter starts to argue. Shut up, Carter.
Master cuts him off. "That might be a good idea." I feel Master's hand return to my head, fingers softly carding through my hair. I hold my breath, waiting for the grip to tighten. Waiting for Master to drag me back to the room by nothing but my messy locks. I force myself to still lean into the touch, not wanting to be punished for not appreciating my master's attention. "I think Casey could use a break."
That's probably code for punishment. Master is going to bring me to his room to punish me now.
Finally.
“Has he fucked you?” Carter asks. I flinch as my friend suddenly grabs my face. “Has Benny touched you? Fucked you?”
No, because you’re disgusting, a voice whispers in my mind. Why would Master want to fuck a broken, used up slave like you?
“I-I-” I pause, having no fucking idea what to say.
“Carter-” Master and Carter’s master say at the same time, sounding like they’re warning him.
Don’t be stupid Carter.
Carter ignores them. “You can tell me. It’s okay. Tell me if he’s done anything to you.”
“He - he takes good care of me.”
Carter looks frustrated, shaking his head. “But has he touched you sexually? Or hurt you? Punished you?”
“N-no.” I pull back, dropping my chin before he can grab my face again. I just want this to stop. Want Carter to stop. Maybe if I explain that Master has been fine to me, he’ll let it go? Benny. I should call him Benny because that’ll make Carter feel better. “Mas - Benny doesn’t… want me…”
I already knew this, it was impossibly clear after he rejected me last night, but hearing it out loud hurts in a way that steals my breath and makes me feel carved out inside. Shame wraps itself around me. What kind of slave isn’t wanted by their master?
Carter stares at me for a long time before finally saying, “You’re right. We should all take a break.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jake
I feel like we’re talking in fucking circles. I’ve spent the last hour trying to get this boy to believe me, all while he says placating things that aren’t denials but aren’t agreements either. He’s still on his knees. I’ve given up asking him to stand. I did that when we got back in the room, then excused myself to the bathroom to try and get my thoughts sorted out. When I came back, there he was, kneeling. I tried it again when I told him to stand so I could help him get dressed in some of my clothes, hoping they’d help his mindset, but he’d gone right back down the moment he was dressed.
“Casey,” I plead, deflating to the edge of the bed and putting my head in my hands. “I don’t know how to get you to believe me. Tell me what it’ll take. Please.”
