14. Xander
CHAPTER 14
Xander
I bend and slide my belt from the loops of my discarded pants. Gripping Hans by his hair, I pull his head back and trace the leather belt along his neck before fastening it. “Good little pups need a leash, don’t they, slut?”
“Yes, sir,” Hans moans.
Humans put a lot of emphasis on love, but love isn’t what makes relationships work. Romantic love is a mirage of illusions peddled by dreamers. Love is a fabrication, while trust is illumination. Trust holds strong when every other part of life deteriorates. Trust keeps you believing in another person. Love is blind, but trust is all-seeing. Love can’t put your faith in the hands of another, but trust can. Religion knows it’s not a love for God it needs to instill in people, but a blind trust. But trust is easy to break and impossible to get back. Unlike The Covenant, I’ll never break this beautiful man's trust in me.
Hans and I have played before. I know what he needs and how to guarantee he gets it. Our relationship has already forged a bond created by trust. We’ve spent hours talking and putting stipulations into place, but with Margarete in the mix, everything is thrown off-kilter.
I weigh the situation in front of me. A thousand different scenarios flood my mind, and I try to navigate the outcomes of each one. With her faith shattered, Margarete will search for something new to believe in. I can’t fuck anything up if I want her to place her trust in me.
I brush the back of my fingers along Hans’ stubbled cheek. “You trust me?”
His curt nod and harsh “yes” send a chill down my spine, leaving me trembling in anticipation of what’s to come. My plan’s risky, but as they say, no risk, no reward.
Pushing my fingers through Hans’ disheveled hair, I grip the leather belt and yank his head back roughly so he’s turned toward me. Grabbing my cock with my other hand, I tap the tip of my dick on Hans’ lips. “Open up, baby boy. Show me what a good little slut you are for me.”
Hans takes the order without hesitation. His lips part wide as he takes my girth into his mouth. He’s come a long way since the first time he sucked my cock. Back then, he was so hesitant. Disgusted, even. I asked him if he wanted to stop, and he said no repeatedly. It was as if he was trying to prove to himself that he liked it. It’s different now. Now, Hans sucks cock like he’s convinced it’s the path to his lord and savior.
“That’s it, baby boy. Suck that dick. It’s the only thing you’re good for, isn’t it? My pretty little cock sucking whore.” I turn to Margarete and hold her gaze. “Our boy gets on his knees to suck cock like the apostles fell on their knees before Jesus was crucified. With the way he sucks my dick, you’d think that my cum is the holy fuckin’ grail. You should hear him when he gags. It’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.”
Hans’ frantic eyes dart between Margarete and me as if searching for an escape from impending doom. A hollow ache settles in my chest as I witness the storm of helplessness crashing over his face. Breaking free from religious indoctrination can be painful, relentless, psychological warfare.
Hans’ head falls back as I strike his face. “Don’t look at her, you worthless cock whore. You’re my pet. When I give you orders, you do it. Got it, pup?”
Hans gazes up at me. His hands move to my shaft as he hollows his cheeks, moving his mouth vigorously up and down my dick.
“Good boy. That’s it. Suck that cock down like you mean it. Show Margarete what a pathetic little boy you are. Let her see what you really are. My pretty little hole.”
I grip the back of his head and hold him against me. Hans’ face flushes from pink to red.
“He can’t breathe,” Margarete hisses. Her hands encircle my wrists as she tries with all her might to pull me off him.
“He can breathe just fine. Can’t you, boy?”
Hans splutters, spraying droplets of saliva as he attempts to speak.
“Cock whores don’t get to speak, boy. That’s not your place. So shut up and do your job before you make me mad.”
Margarete leaps onto me, her weight landing with a surprising thud against my back. “Everything they said about you is right. You’re a monster.”
My laughter, a sinister bubbling sound, echoes through the air, heavy with malice. “The audacity. You think I’m a monster, but don’t dare whisper the devious shit your father did to both of you. I wonder, Maggie, did you and my fuck boy here ever discuss the sick shit your daddy did to the two of you late at night?”
The weight on my back vanishes, and I sense the absence of her breath. Being rendered speechless by someone’s words is like being knocked breathless by a sudden gust of wind. It’s unexpected and brutal. I would even say the force is far more damaging than a bullet.
What I just said was criminal, and a part of me wants to beat myself black and blue. But goddamn it, she needs to be knocked down a peg. Sometimes, kid gloves do nothing but create a useless pet. Comfort when someone doesn’t want to admit their mistreatment only enhances the acceptance of the brutality with no repercussions.
My words were cruel, but they were necessary. I’m weary of this endless battle. Perpetually fighting the “good” who are secretly evil is a constant, draining struggle. My life has been a relentless uphill battle through the shadows, a process that forged me into a sword of retribution.
“How do you know about that?” Maggie whispers.
“Why do you think I killed him, Maggie? He’s not the first person I’ve taken out, but he was my favorite to watch as he suffered. You weren’t the first person he harmed, Maggie. And he wasn’t the only one who did what he did. There’s a group of them. Five men who rule with an iron fist. Men who praise the lord and preach lives of chastity and charity. Five men who manipulate, abuse, rape, and pillage to feed the demonic desires they harbor within their souls. You think it was a coincidence that they found your biological father dead the morning after he violated you? I learned long ago that God doesn’t do shit, so I did what was necessary. I’m sad that, after tonight, it can’t be me who takes out the rest. But I eliminated three of them, and that’s something I’m proud of.”
Maggie remains silent as I continue fucking Hans’ mouth, stupefied by the knowledge I’ve given her. My fingers dig into Hans’ head as I thrust my hips against his face, desperate to find peace in my release. I experience a twinge of guilt when I use him as a rag for my pleasure. Is this a way for me to hide the genetics my biological father injected into me? Am I evil for abusing him with my words? I know I take care of Hans. He’s the mastermind behind all the play. He dictates when I can push further or when I must pull back. But even equipped with the knowledge that what I’m doing is healthy, I occasionally wonder if it harms Hans to be my pet, manipulated sexually for my whims.
My throat feels tight, my chest heavy as I pull out of Hans’ mouth. “Turn around.”
Hans does as he’s told, and I fall on my knees behind him. I reach for my pants, pulling out a condom from my wallet. I grip his ass cheeks and pull them apart, bending to lick his anus.
“Please,” he pleads.
“Please, what, fuck toy? What is it you want?”
He says nothing, and I know it’s because of the shame of being vulnerable in front of Margarete.
So I do what I do best—push him. “Does it bother you, having your sister see you for what you really are?”
Hans hangs his head. “I don’t want her to think less of me.”
“Do you think less of your brother, Maggie? Does it bother you seeing him bent over, presenting his ass to me like the pathetic whore he is?”
To my utter shock, Maggie shakes her head. Maybe she’ll turn her back on the barbaric and inhumane way her society treats her and anyone they deem unfit for their doctrine after all. Perhaps now she’ll realize that they forced her to endure lies wrapped in shit. Maybe she’ll understand that life isn’t arbitrarily black and white. At this moment, she may finally grasp that the concepts of good and evil are fluid, capable of distorting perceptions and turning innocents into villains and villains into heroes.
“Do you want to know what it’s like, Maggie, like you claim?”
I watch as Maggie swallows, her eyes a mixture of excitement and fear. She replies with a simple nod. Not good enough. That nod is shrouded in a murky gray. I need her to own her desires, cling to them fiercely, and never let them go. For Maggie to taste freedom, she must abandon everything she’s been told and embrace the world I can provide.
“That shit won’t cut it for me, Margarete. If you want something, you have to ask for it. I’m not a man who likes silent women. When I fuck you, baby girl, I want you to scream so loud that you’ll wake up the neighbors.”
“Yes,” Margarete squeaks.
“Get on the floor in front of Hans. Open your legs and spread your pussy for him. Your brother is going to lick that slit, Maggie. I want to hear you scream as I fuck his tight little ass.”