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19

Hayes

I’d strapped Lane’s abuser to an old operating table, a gag in his mouth to put a stop to his moronic rambling. For the show we had planned, I had forced his head to lie on its side—we wanted him to have a good view, after all.

The creep’s eyes widened as the three of us entered the torture room. He wriggled in his bindings, his muffled voice rousing Oliver from the orgasmic haze he’d been in as Hudson had carried him down the steps.

Oliver startled, gasping, “There’s a person. Oh god. Why am I naked? I don’t wanna fuck him!”

Hudson shushed him. “Jesus, no, we wouldn’t let that fucker’s cock anywhere near you, Ollie. It’s okay. Remember, we talked about sharing? Even though we share you with each other, no one else will ever get to touch you. If someone tries to, we’ll slit their throat. Got it?” Oliver nodded quickly as color returned to his previously panicked face.

“I got it. I’m sorry, I remember all that, but I just saw him and I just—Why am I naked?”

I chuckled fondly, “We’re going to fuck you in front of him.” Oliver’s head swiveled to see me, his brows raised high. “We wouldn’t normally allow anyone to see you like this, but this man is going to die.”

Hudson chimed in, “And do you know who he is, pet?”

Oliver frowned, his eyes squinting as he tried to recognize the doomed man presented to him. He eventually gave up, saying, “No, I don’t think so. Do I know him?”

“This is Tate. He’s Lane’s cousin,” Hudson said.

Oliver froze, still being held snugly against Hudson’s chest. “I—Um… wow. That cousin?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, “he’s the one who hurt Lane. He tried to hurt him again today. Well, he did hurt him, but not as much as he planned to—and before you worry your pretty little head, your friend is okay. He’ll be better than okay soon once he’s given the chance to get revenge for everything this waste of space put him through.”

“But…” Oliver hesitated, “I don’t want to fuck with him here. I don’t wanna get off with my best friend’s rapist watching me.”

Hudson set Oliver down as he started to explain our thought process. “Tate is a bigot—a bigot that’s so much of a pussy that he’s convinced himself that raping a little boy for years doesn’t mean he likes men. He hates people like us; thinks all queer people deserve things similar to what he did to Lane. Today, he kidnapped Lane, beat him half to death, jerked off over his broken body, and tried to sell him into sex trafficking—”

“What? You said Lane is okay! That’s n-not okay—”

Hudson covered Oliver’s mouth. “Shh, be good. He’s not dead.” Tears pricked at the corners of Oliver’s downturned eyes. Hudson sighed, “He’s getting fixed up at the hospital right now. Greyson’s there, and I know you don’t like him, but I promise that he would never let your friend be hurt under his watch. It’s okay, baby.”

“He can’t die until they show up, which could be a little while. Since we can’t kill him, why not force him to watch something he hates? You’ll be hurting him without touching him,” I added, already unzipping my pants and disrobing. Oliver’s eyes caught on my cock as it sprung out from its confines. I smirked as he unconsciously licked his lips.

Hudson also began to strip. “You don’t even have to look at him, precious. This is part of his punishment. Don’t you want to be a part of it? Don’t you want to hurt him for what he did to your friend?”

Oliver swallowed nervously as he thought it over. “It’ll really hurt him?”

A slow smile spread across my face. I coaxed, “It will, baby. We promise. Now, be a good slut and let us fuck you.”

He whimpered, fidgeting as he gazed up at the both of us. The longer we silently stared down at him, towering over him in all of our naked glory, the more he fidgeted. He bit his lip, casting quick glances at our swollen, wet cocks.

Very slowly, he leaned back, using the palms of his hands to keep himself sitting up as he bent his knees and spread his thighs, exposing his gorgeous little dick, cunt, and asshole.

My cock throbbed with need as I watched.

Hudson grunted from beside me, “ Fuck. That’s the sluttiest thing I’ve ever seen. Oh, Ollie. You already came once, but that’s not enough for you, is it? Poor puppy. Look at that greedy fucking pussy. It’s so empty, isn’t it? Your ass and mouth need to be filled too, don’t they? I’m so sorry for neglecting your pretty fuckholes like that. You poor thing. I think we should help him, don’t you, Hayes?”

“I agree, Hudson. In fact, I think his tight little cunt needs to be stuffed extra full tonight,” I mused as Oliver shivered.

“That sounds like a great idea. What do you think, pet?”

Oliver stuttered, “I-I—”

Hudson smirked, cutting him off. “Oh, but it doesn’t matter what you think, does it, Oliver? Pets don’t get choices. And you’re just a dumb little puppy, aren’t you? Say it. Come on, tell us what you are.”

Oliver’s eyes crossed as he moaned, “I-I’m just a dumb little puppy.”

Hudson continued, “And what are we?”

“My Masters.”

“Good boy. Now get on your knees and suck,” Hudson growled with pleasure, the tip of his cock turning a deep red.

Oliver rose up on his knees, a dazed look in his eye. He steadied himself by placing his hands on Hudson’s sturdy thighs, then licked a long, messy stripe from his balls to his slit. My brother groaned, reaching forward to tunnel his fingers through Oliver’s hair. Oliver began sucking in earnest, drawing noise after noise out of Hudson.

“There are two of us, pet. Don’t forget your other favorite cock,” I teased. Hudson huffed a strained laugh and released his grip on Oliver’s locks. I placed a hand on the back of his head, guiding him to my dick. As he sucked and licked, one of his hands found my brother’s balls and began to roll and fondle them.

I glanced over at Tate, entertained to see a comically horrified look in his eye and a tent in his pants.

I pulled back from the warmth of Oliver’s mouth, earning a confused look from him. As I lowered myself to the ground, he breathed out heavily, realizing what was coming next. I stretched out on my back, fisting my slick cock.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Oliver’s breath caught in his throat. Without losing eye contact, he seductively crawled over and onto me, straddling my thighs. He lined himself up with my tip, then carefully began to lower himself. We both groaned as the head of my cock entered him and he began to sink down ever so slightly.

It was cute.

I grabbed his hips and punched my hips up, completely spearing him on my cock.

“Fuck!” Oliver shouted.

“Hudson, get over here,” I strained, continuing to fuck up into our pet’s burning hot hole.

“W-wait,” Oliver panted, “already? I can’t!”

“Don’t worry, pet, you were born to take both of us.”

“No, no, you’ll break me!”

I smirked, “We already did, little one.” Hudson knelt behind Oliver, straddling my legs. Oliver felt him growing closer and began to squirm, clenching down on me. “If you want to get away from us, Oliver, you’ll need to let go of my cock.”

“Fuck you!” He lashed out, a couple of angry tears trickling down his face. As he felt Hudson’s dick nudge his entrance, he began to beg, “Please, please, no. It won’t fit! I’m s-scared, please. Stop it, stop it, stop— stop!”

His screams were an aphrodisiac as the pressure on my cock grew tenfold.

“Oh, shit,” Hudson hissed as our dicks frotted together inside of the choking tightness of Oliver’s cunt.

“S-stop! It—hurts… h-hurts,” Oliver sobbed, his forehead pressed against my chest.

“Fuck, it’s so… tight ,” I grunted, feeling my balls tighten painfully.

“I know, I’m already about to come,” Hudson said.

Oliver finally let out a pleasure-filled moan from between us. “I feel weird,” he whimpered, nuzzling deeper into my pec.

“Are you going to come for us, sweetheart?” I asked, hoping he was, since I definitely wasn’t far off from my own orgasm.

“G-gonna,” he cried, mouthing at my nipple.

“Good boy. Come and milk our cocks. Squeeze the cum out of our balls, pet. You’ve earned it,” Hudson roughly crooned, his dick sliding against my own.

“Come, pet,” I demanded.

Oliver let out a long scream, his body shaking in its skin, as his release gushed out and his channel clamped down on our dicks.

“You squirted again, little one. So good—you did so well.” Hudson panted out praises against Oliver’s back as we all collapsed against one another.

“You were made for us, pet. Never forget that.”

* * *

It took Greyson and Lane another two or three hours to arrive at the house. In that time, we’d cleaned up, eaten some of the cookies Oliver had made, and gotten dressed. When we got the text from Grey that they were heading over, I waited in the basement with Oliver while Hudson went upstairs to welcome our guests.

“His eyes won’t stop following me, it’s creepy,” Oliver complained as he walked across the room.

“Well, he is alive and tied to a table. He also just watched us fuck a few hours ago, so…”

“Can’t we cover his face, though?” Oliver asked. Once he reached where I was sitting along the far wall, he naturally slid his body down to kneel at my feet. He nuzzled his face into my leg, puffing a short, worried sigh into it. The high I got from such blatant displays of his submission was far more than addictive—it was essential, necessary. When he’d first come to our home, he had layer upon layer of pride, shame, and fear that had to be peeled back to get to the point he was at now.

I let my hand rest on his head, smiling inwardly when I felt him gently push up into it.

“Your friend and my brother will be here soon, precious. Just don’t look at him,” I directed, stealing a glance over to the center of the room to see that, yes, Lane’s cousin was staring at us. Letting the man keep his eyeballs was a great test of my patience.

Oliver whined, “Can I at least warm you, Master?”

“No, pup,” I chuckled. “While I adore your mouth, I’m not letting our visitors see the blissed-out expression you make with a cock stretching your lips.”

The door into the room unlocked, beeping as it opened.

Oliver froze as Hudson, Lane, and Greyson entered. Lane clocked his bound abuser first, but quickly located and locked onto Oliver. Oliver trembled against me, confusing me a bit. Their friendship was strained at the moment, but I didn’t think anything had happened that would’ve resulted in Oliver fearing the redheaded boy. Greyson was a different story.

Lane bypassed his cousin, walking quickly towards us.

“Hey…” Lane offered.

I ran my hand through Oliver’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp to pull his attention back towards me. As he peeked up at me, nerves eating at him, I murmured, “Go ahead.” Oliver complied, rising shakily from the floor. He opened his arms wide, grunting when his friend limped forward and embraced him tightly.

The strength of Lane’s hug lifted Oliver’s feet off the floor, surprising me. Oliver was fucking tiny, but Lane wasn’t much bigger. Additionally, Lane had only just been discharged from the hospital; black, blue, and maroon splotches covered his fair skin. He had what looked to be a protective cast on one of his ankles and a busted lip. I guess he could’ve been on enough pain medicine to make it possible for him to lift Oliver, but nonetheless, it was impressive.

Oliver was returned to the ground within seconds, but stayed buried in his friend’s chest.

“I’m so sorry,” Oliver quavered, his voice barely audible.

Lane looked at him with love as he said, “I’m sorry too. I should’ve been more open with you. Can we go back to being best friends again?” Oliver’s face lit up, his pallor coming back. He nodded frantically and hugged Lane closer.

He whispered, “I would’ve contacted you sooner, I promise. It’s just that…” He snuck a glance at Hudson, who was now a few feet away from me, leaning against the wall. Oliver swallowed, continuing, “I’m supposed to get my phone back soon. We can text like normal. Oh, and we can hang out again like normal. Okay?” His brow creased as he nibbled nervously on his bottom lip.

Lane’s expression grew concerned as he sensed Oliver’s anxiety. Lane made eye contact with me from over Oliver’s shoulder. I smirked at the suspicion evident in his gaze. He frowned and mouthed to me, “ Don’t. Hurt. Him. ”

That was golden.

I held my tongue, although I wanted to tell him how much his innocent Oliver craved the pain we gave him. I wanted to tell him how his friend went as far as offering his blood—his life essence—to please us; how he was unequivocally ours. I didn’t care if Lane was Grey’s; he was still a potential threat.

He had practically served us Oliver on a silver platter. He wasn’t allowed to take him back now.

Lane ended our staring contest, letting go of Oliver to turn back towards the person he was supposed to have been here for. But I saw how his hand had caressed Oliver, lingering on the small of his back for a split second; Lane had done it so I’d see. I doubted that Oliver knew how possessive his friend was.

Something about Oliver attracted folks like us.

“I’m ready,” Lane stated, drawing me out of my head.

Oh, right. Cousin. Murder.

Oliver returned to his rightful place at my feet, managing to settle some of my increasingly violent thoughts. Hudson ventured over to flank Oliver’s other side, and I wondered if he’d also seen the hand thing.

Greyson joined Lane to stand beside the metal table holding his abusive cousin. They were quiet as they spoke to one another. I could tell it was an emotional moment for Lane. Grey kissed his lover’s forehead chaste, then stepped back to give him space. Lane moved to stand closer to Tate’s head, looking him directly in the eye as he began to speak.

“I’ve made countless speeches to you in my head over the years. I never expected to be able to actually recite them to you. It’s so weird being able to speak uninterrupted like this… Do you still remember the last time? You said that you’d gotten a girlfriend, so you didn’t need me anymore. That you weren’t a homo. It felt so strange… I’d gone so long thinking that it would never end. I was a kid, Tate. I was just a kid …” He closed his eyes for a moment as he breathed deeply. “And when you said you didn’t need me anymore, I felt destroyed. It was so confusing, you know? I hated every little thing you did to me. I hated even looking at you or hearing your name. So why the fuck was I upset that you were letting me go? I couldn’t figure that out for years. I went through high school thinking I was sick and perverted. But, no… No, I felt that way because you had killed my motherfucking soul and then thrown away the husk of my body. I was a fucking child who was made to believe no one would ever want me but you, and then you fucking left ? I’m glad you did. I’m even grateful for it. But I felt so messed up. I felt like maybe I wasn’t actually a victim since I wasn’t jumping for joy when you abandoned me.”

Feeling Oliver begin to shake, I tore my gaze from Lane and the power he wielded so brightly. Tears streamed down Oliver’s face as he listened to his friend.

“I wish there were something I could say that would make you understand, but there’s not. You’re the exact same now as you were back then. In your eyes, your preteen cousin was obviously seducing you and you just had to rape me. Although, you probably don’t consider it rape, do you? How deranged are you that you truly believe I wanted it? I’ve tried so hard to understand why . I’ve tried to make excuses for you in my mind. I’ve gone back and forth for years in my head about whether or not those two years actually happened or if I had made it all up. I questioned my very reality because of you.”

Lane circled the table, stopping at the small tool cart that held the few weapons I had left there for this moment. Seemingly without a thought, his fingers grasped the handle of a butcher knife, lifting it from the cart.

He confidently climbed onto the operating table, knife now held between his lips, straddling his older cousin. I was convinced he was either high or had a concerningly high tolerance for pain. Maybe the years of suffering overrode his injuries, giving him the strength to ignore his physical pain in order to put an end to the person responsible for it all.

“I’ve been thinking about how to kill you. I thought about torturing you. I thought of a lot of inventive ways of murdering someone. But now I’m just tired of spending my time thinking of you. I want to go home, have my boyfriend pamper me, order sushi, and fuck. I want to watch a movie in his lap while my cat sits in mine. I want to forget you ever existed. And I will. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not even a month from now, but eventually. You won’t control me any longer. I’ll no longer want to throw up when I see your name. I’ll be able to drink the brand of beer you always made me drink.”

“The reality, Tate, is that you have done nothing in your life to be remembered by,” Lane stated. “I stabbed another guy to death recently. I don’t remember most of it, but apparently it was pretty gruesome. Honestly, I think I took out all the violence meant for you on him. You could consider yourself lucky, or you could piss yourself thinking about how slow this blade will pierce you. I’m going to savor every second of it.”

He held the knife just over his cousin’s heart, taking a moment to breathe before slowly pushing the blade into the skin. His face appeared peaceful as he watched Tate thrash his head around, his screams muffled by the gag still between his lips. Lane took his time, just as he had promised.

As the hilt of the knife met Tate’s chest, Lane twisted his hand and pulled up. Bright red blood poured from the wound, soaking Tate’s shirt and pooling onto the cool metal of the table. He steadily pushed the blade into his skin. We watched as centimeter after centimeter disappeared. When a little over half of the blade was in, Lane twisted the knife and plunged it to the hilt. He then smoothly and quickly pulled the knife from its sheath. Blood flowed freely out of the wound, cascading down Tate’s sides onto the gurney.

Lane closed his eyes, panting, only opening them when Grey approached the head of the table. Lane smiled before rushing forward to take Greyson’s lips in a heady kiss. The three of us observed from the sidelines, content in watching but not interacting with the scene before us.

Lane breathed out, “Thank you.”

“For what, baby?” Greyson asked.

“For letting me really live again.”

Our brother tilted his head, asking, “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“Before we met, I was just going through the motions. I felt so broken, Grey. I was alive, but I wasn’t living. You didn’t need to give me his life for me to feel alive. I’m glad he’s gone, but right now, I don’t feel any different from how I felt before his heart stopped. He didn’t need to be dead for me to feel complete. You complete me, Grey.”

“Baby–”

“I’m not done,” Lane snapped. “I just don’t want you to think that I love you only because you gave me justice. I love you so much, Greyson.” Lane’s voice caught in his throat. He murmured, “Can we get married?”

“Baby, are you proposing? And here I was, planning a whole thing, just for you to ask me from on top of a dead body.”