Bad Things (20 page)

“
I can tell,” Carson said, voice small but almost firm, “you know I’m not a bad person. And I can tell, because I can see how sad and how angry you get, watching that video, that you’re not okay with hurting people who don’t deserve it. I know I’ve played my part in this, in more ways than one. But it’s gotten way out of hand. So I’m going to go, now. And you’re going to let me.”

In situations like that, if you want to keep the upper hand, you can’t start debating the issue with someone like you both get a say. So Xavier just grinned. Let him try it. Let him find out how far things had to go before they were out of hand in Xavier’s view.

“Carson, are you a virgin?”

“
No!” So easy. What man could let a question like that go, given what it implied? Even a closet case like Carson, the taste of cum still fresh on his tongue.

Xavier laughed. “I’m asking if you’ve been fucked in the ass before.”

That question, of course, he wouldn’t answer.

“
Now that you’ve had a good, long look at my cock, now that you’ve had it in your mouth, I want you to think about what it’s going to feel like when I fuck you.”

Carson blanched. There wasn’t even the faintest shadow of a maybe in those blue eyes. Xavier could have done it all differently, and Carson would have let him, with a few worried whimpers, a little trembling, the hazy glow of that inward-turned fear in his eyes. But willingly. Hopefully. Needfully. But Xavier needed him scared.

“All right,” Carson said, trying so hard to sound brave, but unable to keep his voice from warbling. “I’m ending this craziness.”

Carson turned and went toward the door. Long, bold strides, obviously trying to convince himself and Xavier that he was free to leave. But he barely had time to hurry his pace, wasn’t even close to a chance to lunge for the door when Xavier took him down. It didn’t matter that Carson struggled with all his strength; it cost Xavier almost no effort at all to put him on his knees and pin him to the floor. And it didn’t matter that he’d just gotten off. That struggle, holding down Carson’s tender, naked body folded underneath him had Xavier’s cock swelling, blindly rooting into his cleft through the flimsy sweat shorts.

“Don’t be rude,” Xavier taunted. “I’m still talking. I’m going to fuck you, Carson. If you don’t want to be polite and make your virgin hole clean and pretty for me, I have no reason to wait. I’ll just do it right now.”

Just to be sure there was no doubt in Carson’s mind that Xavier’s dick was hard and ready, he gave his ass a jab, relishing the startled quiver that jolted Carson’s body, and the hopeless cry that leaked out of him.

“I’m clean, so I’m not that worried about the condom. But without lube, you’re in for a painful ride. No matter how much spit I use, or how slow I go.”

Carson sobbed out a soft, broken little, “Don’t.”

“I’m still talking, so quiet until I say you can talk. Even though you fucked up with your rebellious stunt a minute ago, I’m going to give you another chance to make sure your first time goes easily. So, if you want me to prep you properly, with lube and everything, before I fuck you, I want you to ask me nicely for a favor. Do you know what the favor is?”

Carson was silent.

“It’s all right. Answer me, Carson.”

“
No.”

“
Well, I’m not sticking my finger up your ass to get it good and lubed up, unless your hole is nice and clean.”

Silence.

“It’s okay. Go head. Ask me, if you want the favor. Otherwise, I’ll just get started.”

Xavier pulled the elastic waist of his shorts down under the base of his cock and rubbed the head along the cleft of Carson’s ass.

“Please!”

“
Please, what?”

“
Please.”
Pobrecito
. He could barely say it. “Let me do the enema.”

Xavier pulled his sweats back up. “Of course. I think it’ll be nicer for both of us, this way.”

The boxes were both within reach, laying where he’d dropped them as he’d tackled Carson and wrestled him to the floor. Still keeping Carson pinned under him, Xavier grabbed one box and set it just next to Carson’s hand. Then he picked up the other box, but didn’t hand that one over.

“
Go ahead and hold on to that one. Once I get the first enema inside you, you’re going to have to dash for the toilet pretty fast.”

“
What?” An incredulous, humiliated little croak.

“
Stay put, now.”

Xavier sat back on his heels. A test. Which would Carson succumb to? Fear of what was already happening? Or fear of provoking an even worse punishment?

He stayed obediently still.

“Would you rather do it yourself? In private? In the bathroom?”

“
Yes. Please, yes.”

“
Too fucking bad. I made you that nice offer a few minutes ago, and you decided not to take it. So now we’re going to do it like this.”

Such an easy pressure point. So many guys—even guys who hadn’t spent all their lives in the closet—were so fucking hung up about things to do with their ass.

When he’d gotten the bottle out of the box, and the cap off the tip, Xavier curved one hand against the back of Carson’s neck and forced his face down to the floor. Watched him blindly fumble and grasp the box. Having done the enema already the day before, Carson would know damned well he wouldn’t have time to fuck around picking up the box once the water was in his colon. Xavier slid his knees between Carson’s shins and pried them apart, feeding on the choked grunt that escaped Carson’s throat.

“
Now arch your back. Get your ass in the air.”

Carson’s ribs widening and narrowing with his heavy breaths. Still for a moment. Then the slow dip of the small of his back, the rise of that gorgeous fucking ass.

“Oh, after you do your second enema, don’t forget to shower and get the outside of you clean, too. But don’t take too long. You don’t want me in an impatient mood when I fuck you.”

Still pinning Carson down by his neck, Xavier brought the bottle to his mouth, wet the tip, then carefully put it right at the center of Carson’s anus, in plain view in the valley between his cheeks. When he slid it in, he heard Carson suck in his breath, and when he slowly closed his fist down on that soft, soft plastic, gradually forcing the clear contents out of the bottle and into Carson’s colon, there was a gasp at the shock of the cool liquid hitting his hot insides.

When the bottle was empty Xavier pulled the narrow spout from Carson’s hole. “Better get to the bathroom quick.”

No need to say it twice. Carson was on his feet, grasping the second enema box, and sprinting for the bathroom, awkwardly but with total alacrity, slamming the door shut the second he was inside.

As soon as Carson was out of sight, Xavier’s erection began to wilt, and instead of the thrill and adrenaline pumping through his body, a cool, heavy nausea began to fill him like sand. He went to the shelf and got what he wanted out of the leather chest, and dropped the condoms on the ground by the support beam, studded at four different heights with bolts for locking in the restraints.

The sound of the rush of water from the shower stopped, but after a few moments there was still no sign of Carson. Unable to bring himself to open the door and meet his fate? Or trying to uncouple a length of plumbing in the vain hope he could still get out of this? Fuck, what punishment would he have to come up with if Carson really tried to overpower him and get away?

When the door opened, Carson stood in the gap, gazing out. Pale. Looking like he couldn’t quite make himself step over the threshold. But finally he did, hands hanging at his sides, empty.

Xavier went over to the weight bench and sat down in the center of it.

“Come here.”

Surprised relief softened half the fear in Carson’s expression. As if they were just going to have a sit-down together and talk things out. But when he got there and started to take a seat, Xavier pulled him down across his lap and pinned him there with a forearm across the small of his back.

“You sure you got yourself good and clean?”

He planted one hand on each cheek—fuck that sweet bubble butt was absolutely killing him—and spread him, noting with a thrill that drove away a little of that cold weight in his gut how Carson groaned softly when he did that. Pale skin, tawny hole, and the light trail of hair all fresh and clean. Of course.

“See the ass plug and the lube? On the floor, just under you? Pick them up.” When Carson did as he’d been told, Xavier said, “Lube up the toy.”

A few seconds’ hesitation, then God damn, the way Carson’s rump flexed as he got up on his elbows so he could open the cap on the bottle of lube. And the way his ribs were rising and falling, widening and narrowing with his nervous breaths.

“I know it looks kind of big. But it could be worse, right? Don’t be stingy. Get it good and slick.”

When it was slathered in a nice thick coat of lube, Xavier took the toy from Carson and told him to put the bottle of lube on the floor. Xavier pulled one cheek aside, exposing Carson’s hole. When he touched the greased tip of the toy there, Carson gasped.

“Cold?”

Fuck. He was already hard again, Carson’s faintly squirming body hot against his thighs.

“Turn your head. Other way, so I can see your face. Good boy.”

Just pushing a little, letting him feel the blunt pressure of the tip, Carson’s face went pink, either with embarrassment or worry. Then he was still, not even breathing as Xavier worked the toy into him, his sphincter resisting more and more as the toy flared out wider and wider. Finally the widest part slipped past the ring of muscle and the last inch of the toy disappeared before the safety flange slid up against him.

“All in. You can relax, now.”

Carson let himself breathe.

Looking down, watching the protruding flack ring encircling his finger and the narrow shaft hinting at what was now hidden up Carson’s ass, Xavier gave a slow, determined tug, and millimeter by millimeter the toy reappeared, Carson’s asshole stretching to give passage to the flared center, then shrinking down tight again as the exiting shaft narrowed toward its rounded tip. And in it went again, making Carson grunt and squirm.

Carson’s wriggling and groaning, the heat of him rubbing against Xavier’s thighs and hard dick had almost driven off his dark doubts about how he’d turned things ninety degrees, veering off from Carson’s fretful surrender to what was happening between them.

God, that fucking ass. So damned thick and round and ripe. He grabbed, kneaded, greedily feeding on Carson’s noises and the way he was bucking and squirming. On an impulse, Xavier gave him a good hard slap, and Carson arched and gasped, ass cheeks and face flushing deliciously. Another good whack, on the other cheek this time. Then Xavier slid his hand into the snug gap between those muscular cheeks, found the flange of the toy up Carson’s ass, and slowly rubbed it, making the length of glass inside of him rock against his prostate. Carson let out a cry and clutched at the bench. Xavier kept at it until Carson was panting, grunting, squirming for it.

Then he stopped. Made Carson get to his feet. Big, beautiful boner jutting up and out. Engorged as fuck and flushed as his inflamed ass cheeks.

When Xavier stood, Carson shot him a timid look, the flare in his eyes testifying that he was back. Wanting. More afraid of that want than of Xavier.

He didn’t resist as Xavier led him over to the post, or when he put his hand on his shoulder and pressed down. Carson sank to his knees, and let Xavier hook the rings of the restraints into the hardware on the beam.

Xavier got down on his knees in front of Carson. God, he was dying, absolutely aching to fuck him. Blue eyes wide and bright and glittering, Carson let him kiss. Let him bite, sucking and tasting and tonging his bottom lip then stroking Carson’s tongue with his, feeding on that kiss until they were both gasping for breath.

Xavier pulled away, drank up the need and fear in Carson’s eyes, and whispered by his ear, “I’m going, now.”

God. His shock. His confusion. Priceless. Painful.

“
I won’t be gone long. If you’re like this when I come back…” He wrapped his hand around Carson’s turgid dick, then slowly, slowly squeezed, reaching between his legs and rocking the butt plug back and forth a little. “…I’m going to fuck you senseless. If you can talk yourself down, though, you get a pass. I won’t touch you again. Unless you ask me really, really nicely.”

He’d chickened out. Even knowing that part of Carson—probably the bigger part of him—wanted it, no matter how angry or confused or scared he was. If Carson truly didn’t want to, without Xavier there taunting him and touching him and flustering him, his hard-on would shrivel and they’d both be off the hook.

Xavier waited. Showered. Then busied himself sending a couple fake emails for Brian and Max to decipher and discuss.

When he went back down, he wasn’t sure—a rare, unpleasant feeling—whether he was hoping he’d find Carson still aroused so he could plunge into the pleasure offered by that dubious consent, or limp so he could try to salvage the plan without crossing that final line he’d so recklessly drawn in the sand.