Chapter 4 Hayes #2
“That’s it, take Master’s cock,” I growled, thrusting shallowly, watching Sam’s face contort—eyes glued to the scene unfolding in front of him, a flush creeping up his neck. He shifted in the chair, drawing attention to the growing bulge in his pants.
I smirked at him.
Hudson rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and lined up behind Oliver. Our pup pushed back eagerly. Hudson gripped his hips—the bruises from earlier darkening under his fingers—and slammed in with one brutal thrust, burying his cock balls-deep in that tight, dripping pussy.
Oliver screamed around my dick, the sound muffled and garbled, body jolting forward to take me deeper.
Hudson set a punishing pace immediately, hips snapping forward, the wet slap of skin on skin resounding off the concrete walls.
Each plunge stretched Oliver wide, his walls gripping Hudson’s shaft visibly on the outstroke, slick coating everything.
“Ours,” Hudson grunted, one hand snaking around to pinch Oliver’s nipple, twisting until tears welled anew. “Say it.”
“Yours!” Oliver gasped when I pulled out briefly, strings of spit connecting us. “Only yours—fuck me harder—”
I shoved back in, fucking his throat in time with Hudson’s thrusts, and watched as our pup was held between us like a ragdoll with his body shaking with every impact. Sam stared, transfixed, his breathing labored, chains clinking as he strained.
“You see this?” I said to him, voice rough as pleasure heated my gut. “This is what he needs. You think a guy like you could ever satisfy him? When we’ve been giving him this for years?”
Hudson reached around, fingers finding Oliver’s cute little cock and rubbing circles, fast and rough.
Our pet shattered almost instantly—pussy spasming around Hudson’s cock, squirting messily onto the floor as he came with a choked sob, tears streaming down his cheeks.
He didn’t look at Sam once; all his focus was on us, on the cocks filling him, claiming him.
I pulled out, spinning Oliver around so Hudson could take his mouth.
Our pup dove in hungrily, gagging himself on Hudson’s length, tasting his own cum as I hiked one of his legs up and drove into him from behind.
His ass clenched around nothing, but I ignored it, pounding his cunt with deep, grinding strokes, the head of my cock battering his g-spot relentlessly.
“Come again,” I ordered, slapping his thigh hard enough to leave a print. “Show him how many times you can take it for your Masters. How much of an insatiable fucking slut you are.”
Oliver obeyed, body seizing as another orgasm ripped through him, walls squeezing me tight, cum soaking my balls. Hudson face-fucked him through it, holding his head still until Oliver’s throat worked around him, swallowing every drop as Hudson groaned and unloaded.
I didn’t last much longer—thrusting harder, chasing my release, until I buried deep and flooded his pussy, hot spurts painting his insides. Oliver whimpered, grinding back, taking it all like the perfect little whore he was.
We eased him down between us as I pulled out, cum leaking from his stretched hole and mixing with his arousal on the floor. Oliver curled into our legs, nuzzling our thighs, licking lazily at the mess on Hudson’s softening cock. Sam sat silent now, eyes downcast.
I pushed Oliver’s pliant legs open, our pet giving absolutely zero resistance as he enjoyed his treat of cleaning up my brother’s dick. I spread him open, right there in front of Sam, showcasing the slow dribble of my cum out of his twitching hole.
“What a pretty picture that makes,” I said, my smile cutting. “You know,” I added conspiratorially, eyeing Sam, “we love showing him off.”
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “This is fucked up, man.”
“Really? Looks to me like it was hot enough for you to come in your pants.”
Hudson laughed, stroking Oliver’s hair as he startled at the sound. “Shh, puppy. Finish your treat. That’s it. Good boy.” He then grinned up at our captive and the wet stain on his crotch. “So, what did you learn?”
Sam’s voice was barely a whisper. “…He’s yours.”
“Damn right,” I said, pulling Oliver up for a kiss. Our pet melted into it, needy and compliant. I deepened the kiss without thinking, angling his chin, savoring the way his mouth opened for me so easily.
God.
Hudson’s hand slid up Oliver’s spine possessively, but I barely registered it. I was distracted by the plushness of Oliver’s lips and the sound he made when I caught his bottom lip between my teeth and bit down.
He tasted like sweat and salt and desire.
I might have stayed there longer if not for the awkward, strangled sound from in front of us.
Sam cleared his throat.
I let my lips brush Oliver’s one last time before I pulled back slowly, resting my forehead against his for a second.
Then I looked over.
Sam shifted in the chair, metal scraping against concrete. His eyes flicked between the three of us.
“Uh,” he said, voice cracking slightly. “So… can I go now?”
The question hung there.
Hudson barked out a laugh.
I followed a second later, the sound dragging out of my chest.
Sam’s face twisted. “What? What are you laughing at?”
Hudson straightened, one hand still resting lazily on Oliver’s hip. “You think this was a demonstration you get to walk away from?”
Sam swallowed nervously. “You said you wanted me to learn. I learned. I’ll never go near him again, never see him. I promise.”
I tilted my head, studying him like he’d just said something fascinatingly stupid.
“We did want you to learn,” I agreed.
“And you did,” Hudson added smoothly.
“Then what’s the—”
“Only dead men,” I interrupted calmly, “get to see Oliver like that.”
The color drained from his face.
Silence pressed in around us.
“But… I’m not dead…” he said, trying for logic, trying for reason.
Hudson’s smile widened slightly. “Not yet,” he said.
Sam’s breathing picked up, shallow and rapid. “No, no, no—wait—I didn’t do anything! I didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t know!”
I stood slowly, helping Oliver to his feet with me. He swayed, exhausted, but leaned instinctively into Hudson when my brother steadied him.
“Exactly,” I said.
Sam blinked. “Exactly what?”
“You didn’t know,” I replied.
“And now you do,” Hudson finished.
Understanding slowly crept across Sam’s features.
His voice broke. “You’re—you’re insane. You’re fucking psychopaths. You can’t—you can’t do this!”
I snorted.
Beside me, Hudson brushed his thumb over Oliver’s jaw, wiping away the faint track of dried tears there. His attention was soft, tender in a way that was reserved solely for our pet.
“How would you like to die, Samuel? Quick? Slow? You can even look at our pet’s cunt as you go,” I mused.
Sam shook his head violently, then looked to Oliver again, as if looking for help.
Oliver looked wrecked, hardly awake enough to keep his eyes open as Hudson helped him to his feet and led him over to a fold-up chair. Oliver sank to the floor beside the chair on instinct and lay his head against my brother’s thigh once he sat.
“Oliver, please—” Sam begged.
Oliver’s head turned away from us. Hudson ran his fingers through our pet’s curls, then whispered something that even I couldn’t hear.
There was the slightest shake of Oliver’s head in response.
Hudson whispered something else, his hand continuing its gentle petting, then glanced up at me.
“He needs to go upstairs.”
“Why?” I questioned.
“Hayes…” Hudson sighed, shaking his head at me like he was disappointed.
“What? Don’t look at me like that, asshole.”
“You know he doesn’t like being down here for this part.”
I groaned, but relented. Oliver hated watching us kill.
He deserved to be relaxing after what he’d just gone through, which, unlike us, didn’t involve butchering a man.
“Yeah, fuck. Yeah. Sorry. I was,” I gestured at Sam, “obviously a bit distracted. Take him up. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done with this bastard. ”
Sam choked on nothing. “Done with?! Please, don’t do this,” he begged, struggling against the cuffs. “I won’t tell anyone what happened. I swear. I’ll fucking move to a different country! Just let me go, please—Oliver, please, stop them! Please!”
Meanwhile, Hudson had stood up and lifted Ollie into a bridal hold.
I cut off the irritant’s blubbering to get his attention. “Ollie.”
Oliver twisted to look over Hudson’s shoulder at me, purposely avoiding making eye contact with the pleading man in the chair.
“I’ll finish this up quick, okay? I love you.”
“I love you too,” he mumbled sleepily, eyes slipping shut.
Hudson adjusted Oliver higher in his arms, cradling him against his chest, and turned toward the door. He nudged it open with his shoulder and disappeared through it. The door shut behind them with a click that swallowed the worst of Sam’s noise.
Silence settled.
Well.
Not silence.
There was still the hitched, panicked breathing of the man chained to my chair.
I rolled my neck once, working out the tension, and exhaled slowly. The air felt different without Oliver down here.
Sam’s eyes were fixed on the door like if he stared hard enough, Hudson might reappear and carry him upstairs as well.
I chuckled to myself at that, then stepped closer to Sam, tilting my head as I tried to decide how I wanted to end him.
“You know what the worst part is?” I asked conversationally.
He shook his head frantically, tears sliding down his face.
“You thought you had a chance.”
“I didn’t—I swear, I didn’t think—”
“You did,” I corrected calmly. “You thought if you kept talking long enough, he might give you his number. You thought maybe he was just shy. Maybe he just needed encouragement.”
Sam’s mouth opened and closed.
I crouched in front of him.
“He didn’t shut you down fast enough,” I continued, almost thoughtfully. “And that’s on us. Thanks to you, actually, we had an excellent opportunity to remind him of his place. That’s important for dogs, you know. This was just… like a shock collar. Does that make sense?”
I stood again, rolling up my sleeves.
“None of this makes sense, dude. You’re fucking sick.”
“God, you talk too much.”
“I hope you rot in prison,” Sam spat, anger apparently now taking center stage over fear.
I didn’t even try to hold in my laugh as I went over to the table to peruse the available tools. Normally, I liked to take my time with a kill.
Not today.
I had a sleepy pup waiting for me.