"Mmm. Look at those eyes. You know, I could never decipher them eyes. I never knew you were as sick as you were until you told me. And that scares me. I did some pretty fucked up things for ya. I mean, your ass is so worth it. And you have such a talent for being this meek, submissive, little bitch for me. But listen, and listen good, Richie. I ain't never letting up. I'm never taking my foot off your neck. You're staying down there. Because I know what you are. I know what the fuck you are, you little monster." He sits on his lap, feeling the ropes that bound his thighs. "God, you don't even know you do it." He suddenly grabbed the young man's face, squeezing his cheeks painfully. The young man groaned into the gag tightly stuffed in his mouth. "If you could see the hate in your eyes for me right now. All that talk yesterday about you lovin me was bull, wasn't it? You hate me so much. Because I'm human. There's this disdain you have for us. Because we're not like you. We're not as accomplished, as well-bred, as intelligent," he kissed his gagged mouth, "as beautiful." He got up and stood in front of the young man making him look up by forcefully tilting up his chin. "I oughta put you in front of a mirror next time I do this to you. Then you'll see your eyes and the fuckin burning hatred in them. Hatred that'll kill ya as soon as look at ya." He smiled. "Even me." He then laughed at the halfhearted head shake Richard gave him. "Don't fucking shake your head. You would do it. It's why you're staying under my heel. And even if you're a monstrous little faggot, you have no say in the matter. And I'll be sure to keep it that way. Enjoy your time like this. And if I come back and see you've tried to get loose like last time, I'll beat the shit outta you."
Nate lit a cigarette as he left the apartment. He thought about Richie, and what he'd wanted him to do. What he readily did for Richie. He loved that man so much, it physically hurt. He loved him knowing what he was. He loved him even though Richie terrified him. He had to control Richie. He was sick. And he was more than happy to help feed that sickness, as long as he himself wasn't on the menu. He knew that beneath that angelic face lay a cold, hard, intellectual, and monstrous ubermensch. A mind that looked down on everything and everyone. A mind that sought to manipulate and destroy. But god, did he love him. And he wanted all of him, disease and all. So he went along with a crime spree that grew and grew, starting with laughable petty crimes and ending God knows where.
He threw the ciggy away as he entered the bar. He knew exactly what he was looking for and exactly what he'd find at this hour. He spotted it at the bar and zeroed in.
"Cognac, please." He sat by the man. "And give him one more of what he's havin."
The guy looked at him and said, "Thanks, man. But I ain't no homo. And you... you don't look like you need the money."
"Really? So you have no interest in getting your dick sucked?"
The man paused. "Listen, I appreciate the offer, but this ain't the place..."
"Oh, I'm not doing it. I got an angel back at my place that'll really ruffle your feathers."
The man thought about it. "I'm not payin ya."
"You don't have to. Whatever you'd pay would be an insult to my angel anyway."
"You got time for me to finish my drink?"
"Of course. Angel's not goin' nowhere."
It was a short walk to the apartment. There were many laughs and gaffs on the way, two drunken young men, who were not very intoxicated were not a strange sight at this hour in this city.
He unlocked the door and smiling to the man, he shouted, "Honeyyyy, I'm hooooome."
At that, muffled words accompanied creaks of a wooden chair from the living room. The words sounded harsh and rude, but Nate didn't care. Considering what was about to happen, he chose to let Richie have his impotent little hissy fit.
Richie stopped his struggles when he saw the strange man, who in turn paused in surprise at the young man, gagged and bound to a chair.
"Whoa, whoa, I didn't sign up for this, man. I don't wanna get involved..."
"Don't worry.... what's your name again?"
"Don't worry Trent. Our Richie doesn't mind. Right, Richie?"
Richie didn't answer. Nate then stood in front of his lover, bending down so that they were face to face. "No, our Richie doesn't mind. Aaaand, he'll suck your dick like a good little bit." Nate gave a soft chuckle at Richie's subsequent eye widening, struggles, and muffled screams. As soon as Richie began shaking his head, Nate slapped his face, hard. It stopped the young man dead in his tracks, and he whimpered as his eyes began to moisten. Nate then pulled Richie closer by the gag in his mouth, and removed the lit cigarette from his own mouth, holding it close to Richie's cheek. "Richie will suck your dick. He'll suck it good because I want him to. And he'll do as I say, yes?" Richie nodded frantically. "And when I take his gag out so he can take your cock in his mouth, he won't say a goddamn word, hmm?" Another frantic nod. "Good boy." He pulled him even closer to whisper in his ear. "I'm not so stupid as to think that you're actually afraid or submissive, but don't fuck this up. I won't kill him for you. Now open wide."
He stepped away and presented Richie, roughly removing his gag. "Be as rough as you like."
And he was. The man, drunk as he was, must have had something to prove. Nate lit a cigarette and watched as Trent slapped Richie, pulled his hair, and made him gag. He admitted that he enjoyed watching Richie's eyes nearly pop out of his head, as he couldn't breathe from the cock being thrust deep in this throat. As he took a drag, he looked up and he suddenly locked eyes with Richie. They were teary, red, and exhausted. But they were focused. They were sharp. And fucking beautiful. And they never stopped looking at Nate. There he was, cock stretching his mouth open, unable to speak or at times, breathe, and he was staring holes into his partner's face. That was the true face of Richard.
Trent suddenly pulled his cock from Richie's throat and held the young man by the hair as he finished on his face and hair. Trent then declared that he "had to take a piss", and without pause, went to look for a bathroom.
Richie looked up, cum dripping down his face and on his lips. He smiled. "Satisfied?"
"I tell you you could talk?"
"I think I earned a little chat."
"Yeah. I am satisfied. I should make this a regular thing."
Richie's face soured. "I won't allow it."
"I'm not the one trussed up to fuck."
"I let you tie me up. I let you do all this to me."
"You keep telling yourself that. It'll be a nice way to spend your time in front of the mirror."
"I let you touch me. I let you fuck me. I allow it and without my permission, you wouldn't be doing any of this."
Nate scoffed but he stayed quiet, smoking away.
Richie smiled a dangerous smile. "So you won't kill him for me, eh?"
"He face-fucked me. I thought I belonged to you."
"Yeah. And I let him. I brought him here for just such a purpose. I brought him here to degrade you."
"No, you didn't. You're gonna do something to him."
"No I won't. I'll let him go on his merry way. Might even hail him a cab."
"So you'd let the guy who jammed his cock in my mouth go? Will you hand him a baggie filled with your balls before he goes too?"
"That would've worked a lot better if you did that thing you do. You know, when you open your legs and grind. But seeing as your thighs are tied shut, I think that would be asking too much." Nate smiled sadly. "Face it, Richie. There's no manipulating me tonight."
Nate chuckled and looked fondly at Richie as he pouted. "That look really suits you, especially the cum waterfall running down your face."
Richie was just about to retort as Trent came back in.
"Hhhhey, that was really good, man. And you're right, he totally looks like an angel."
He approached Richie, who struggled futilely to get away. But Trent never came close to Richie.
Richie heard a loud thud, and Trent collapsed, Nate holding a club over the prostrate body.
Richie chuckled. "I knew it."
"I'm still not killing him. I didn't say he could touch you a second time."
"Check his wallet, and take whatever you can find. I don't care if it's two dollars. Take everything he has. And then chuck him out in the street."
Nate nodded and got to work.
Nate came back when he was done. He was eager to come back to Richie. Richie was where he left him, still tied to the chair, face still covered in drying cum.
Richie looked at Nate, then looked down, suddenly meek and submissive. "Please untie me." His voice was pleading and small.
"God, you oughta be in pictures."
Nate came to stand behind Richie. "Looks like you already tried. And even after I told you not to."
Nate went into the walk in closet and came back with a heavy leather belt. Then he picked up the club and Richie's discarded scarf.
Richie was shaking, but silent. He was trying futilely to get his hands free. But the knot was tight and they were behind him, so he couldn't see what he was doing.
"This is what's gonna happen. I'm gonna detach you from the chair. You'll still be tied up. If you even think of doing something stupid, it'll be worse. That club is gonna bruise you up real nice. But I don't want any broken bones so your scarf is gonna help with that. Then I'll put you over my knee, whatever's left of you, and belt your ass and thighs until I get tired."
"Don't fucking do this, Nate."
"I can't not do it. I fucking love you, you sick bastard. And I'm gonna kill for you one day. So you'll give me what I want. You owe me as much. It's not fair that you get to have my heart and my mind, and everything I do. I get to own you too. Oh and thanks for reminding me."
Nate took out a handkerchief and wiped Richie's face, before he shoved the entire piece of cloth in his mouth, tying it in with the gag around Richie's neck, tightly and painfully.
"I don't want your screams to wake up with neighbours."
Richie was taken off the chair and put on the sofa. He whimpered and shook his head as Nate placed the scarf on his thigh and raised the club.