Nate's Evil Exploits Pt. 12

*** Nate's a corporate downsizer whose personal passion is exploiting people at their most vulnerable.

Proudly bisexual, fiercely manipulative, and an unrepentant sociopath, no one's safe from his personal brand of coercion.

But when Nate chooses to not only fire, but humiliate a salesman with fetishes arguably more perverse than his own, a fierce battle erupts between the two, escalating out of control as two equally morally bankrupt men seek to break each other using every weapon they can lay their hands on. ***

* * * * * Fair warning: This episode is gay male non-con with a touch of (gay/bi male) love story. Other episodes in the series are male-male & male-female. * * * * *

This chapter: Still at Colin's mercy in Malaga II, Nate finds out what's happened to Alec, and Colin assigns Nate a bunkmate; a gang member whose nickname includes the word 'Donkey', in an attempt to get Nate to surrender his dignity and submit to Colin's dominance.

Little does Colin know, the man he chooses has his own ideas.

*****

Nate started awake near nightfall as the door to his cell swung open. He sat up, head fogged with exhaustion and hunger, as Colin shut the door behind him and held up a laptop.

"I have him all ready to go."

He meant Alec. Wherever the kid was being held, Nate hoped against hope his lover was in a better state than he was. He sat up on his bunk bed and leaned against the wall.

Colin sat on the bed beside him and handed him a bottle of water.

Nate took it warily. It just seemed unlikely that his tormentor gave a shit if he was thirsty or not. Then again, fuck he was thirsty. He unscrewed the cap and started greedily gulping it down, until he realised Colin was watching him with amusement.

He stopped, breathing hard, and glanced down at the bottle in his hand.

"I haven't done anything to it," said Colin. "But the lads tell me the tap water here's not fit for drinking, and I don't want you dying of dysentery before I've finished with you."

Then stop staring at me like that, you cock.

Despite his reassurance, Nate no longer felt like drinking. He put the cap back on the bottle as Colin opened his laptop.

As the other man pulled up a Skype chat window, Nate fantasized about sliding his hands around the big man's neck and squeezing the life out of him. But as satisfying as that would be, he wanted to see Alec, and still had no idea where the kid was. If he killed Colin now, he might never find him.

So, instead of punching his tormentor until his nose turned to the consistency of watermelon, Nate picked at his fingernails and said nothing.

Colin glanced sideways at him. "You're a quick study, lad, I'll give you that. If I didn't know better, I'd think you had murder in your heart. But there you are, calm and collected. How long do you think you can stay that way?"

"How long can you keep pretending you're straight?"

Colin gave him a dark smile and patted his knee. "Don't you worry, lad, I've plenty of time to break you."

Nate shot him a glance. "And what will that look like?"

"I think you know exactly what that'll look like. When you come crawling to me on your knees, begging me to fuck you six ways to Sunday, then we'll see about letting you go."

Nate cooled inside. Of the many, many things he was prepared to do to get himself out of this place, he had no intention of doing that. Especially not when Colin only wanted to see Nate crawl to affirm his dominance over him. If the man had genuine lust for him, he could work with that. But this was just one great power wank.

Colin tapped the track pad on the laptop and started a Skype call. There was a rustling through the speakers as it connected.

"Can you hear me?" he asked whoever was on the other end.

There was a short delay, then a voice, broken with digital distortion. "...here."

"Good, good. Put the boy on, will you?"

"Bruv, bruv, are you there?" Alec.

Nate felt warmth swell inside him at the sound of his lover's voice. He wanted to reach through the laptop and pull the kid to him, to lose himself in the smell of cheap hair product and body spray.

Colin turned the laptop to face him. "As promised."

Alec was dressed in an oversized grey hoodie, the hood flipped up over his head. His eyes widened as he took in Nate's unshaven, exhausted appearance.

"You is looking well fucked, blud. Where are you?"

Despite how grim their situation was, Nate couldn't help grinning. He could listen to the kid murder the English language all night long.

"Never mind that." There was no point in alarming his lover any more than he had to. "Are you okay?"

Alec shook his head. "It's mental here bruv, full on mental! They think they can turn me straight."

"What?"

Nate had heard rumours that gay conversion therapy was still being carried out in England, but had dismissed the idea as insane... because it was insane.

Colin let him take the laptop and he sat it on his knee. "How does that work?"

"They like, they talk to us every day about how we must have been touched up or something when we was kids, to make us gay."

"Were you?" Nate asked warily.

"Was I fuck!" Alec glanced off camera for a moment as if he'd heard something that frightened him. When he looked back at Nate, his eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I fucking hate this place. I want to go home."

Nate gritted his teeth. Colin was going to pay for this. Fuck was he going to pay.

"I'm going to get you out, mate, but it might take a while," he said. "Just hang in there."

Alec shook his head. "They do these sessions every morning where they tell us God loves us but no one else does—and then they make us look at pictures of naked ladies. They told me to wank off to them in the name of Jesus. It's fucking lunatic." He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "They say if I can't cum to the pictures, they'll start putting girls in my room to help me figure it out."

Oh Colin, Colin, you fucking melt.

"Listen to me," he said to Alec, "Anyone tries to touch you, you punch their fucking lights out. I don't care if they're male or female, no one gets to touch you unless you say so."

Alec laughed. "Yeah, arright mate, says the guy who roofied me in a sex club so he could get off with me in a free-for-all."

Nate went cold inside. "I didn't Alec, I didn't. I'd never do that."

Alec shoved his hands into his pockets. "How do you know what you did? You were jagged off your tits."

Nate blinked hard. Surely not. Although the whole night was a blur, although he knew he'd taken enough drugs into Savage Palace to dope a football team, they'd all been intended for him. If someone wanted to take drugs, Nate would keep them coming—but there was no way in hell he'd give something so terrifying to someone who wanted to stay sober.

"Where are you?" he asked

"South—"

Colin wrestled the laptop back from Nate and shut down the call before Alec could finish answering. "Nice try, sunshine."

South... something. South London, maybe? Either way, it wasn't enough to help Nate find him.

Colin folded the laptop shut and stood. "Starting tonight I'm giving you a bunkmate. Limp Mule seems to have taken a liking to you and he's got a good cock on him. I think he'll do nicely."

He strode over to the door and rapped his knuckles against the glass panel.

"You've gone too far," Nate said quietly.

Colin gave a snort of laughter. "Coming from you, that is fucking hilarious."

The guard opened the door and Colin waved to Nate as he pulled it closed it behind him.

* * * * *

A short time later, Nate's cell door swung open a second time.

Burro strode into the room. He had a bag slung over one shoulder and was carrying a blanket and pillow on top of a case of bottled water. Nate watched jealously as he set his things down and tossed the blanket and pillow onto the top bunk.

As the guard locked the cell behind him, the stocky Mexican put his hands on his hips and regarded Nate.

"How are you doing, pollito?

"Don't call me that," said Nate. "I know what that means."

Little chicken. He was no one's little fucking chicken.

"You gonna cry if I call you guapo?"

Nate shrugged. "No idea what that means. So no."

The other man grinned. "Eh, chico lindo, we're gonna get along just fine." He bent down and pulled a bottle of water from its plastic wrap. "You want some? You gotta keep drinking, guapo, or you'll shrivel up like jerky." He tossed the bottle to Nate.

Nate caught it and pulled off the plastic cap. He'd shoved the bottle Colin had given him under the bed, still half convinced his tormentor had pissed in it.

Burro considered him as he gulped down the water. "You know why I'm here, esé? "

Nate wiped his mouth and put the cap back on the bottle. "To talk about boys and hit each other with pillows?"

Burro laughed. "I like you, esé. You're funny. Move over."

Nate made space and Burro sat beside him, resting his hand on Nate's thigh.

"There are three things you need to know. One is that no one can hear us. This is good. Two is that they can see us. The camera's up on the ceiling above the door. Don't look. Just know. Three, is that I like you."

Nate suppressed a shiver as Burro caressed his leg.

"I know what you did in there today. If it was me, I'd have fought us, I'd have swung and fought and done my best to get free. But you. You didn't do none of that."

Nate gave him a thin smile. "Thanks."

Burro turned to him. "No, no, no, I get you, chico. If you fought us, we would have near killed you. You wouldn't have won. I get that. Fight the battles you can win. Me, I wouldn't have been strong enough to wait out something like that, you know? But you stick shit out. I like that about you."

His thick fingers massaged Nate's thigh.

"How'd you get stuck with this gig?" Nate asked, doing his best to ignore the other man's relentless touch.

"Me and my homies, we're not stuck here like you, but we're not exactly free. We're part of the Kings—but... they don't like us so much."

Nate knew vaguely of the Latin Kings, a gang comprised of South Americans who'd taken up residence in Spain. They weren't known for their cheerful Pride Parade floats.

"So—how does that work?"

Burro lifted his hand to wipe his nose, then rested it on Nate's thigh again. High, high up on his thigh.

"You know, the Kings, they don't like maricons—gays. But they do like money."

Nate frowned. "What does that mean?"

"They give us mostly wet work. They send us to do the stuff nobody wants to do, the high risk kills, you know? I don't like it." For a moment, his eyes flashed with anger. "But that's how things are, esé. We all gotta do what we gotta do."

Wet work. How many people had this man killed?

Burro's hand slid across his crotch. "What did you do to piss off that Colin guy anyway? He seems like a bad man to make angry."

Nate laughed under his breath. "So am I. I'm here because he found that out the hard way."

Burro's fingers smoothed along the line of Nate's cock, caressing him through the cotton.

"I figured," he said. "I saw it in the showers today, when you thought I was going to shove my dick in your ass."

Nate's heart sped up at just the thought of the Mexican man's giant cock anywhere near him. Some things defied the laws of nature and Burro's cock was one of those things.

"I really thought if I did that, you might try to kill me." He shrugged. "I could be wrong, chico, but I don't usually get that kind of shit wrong."

He stroked his fingers along Nate's thickening cock.

"But you got to understand that I can put you down, esé. I can hurt you more than you can hurt me. So, you gotta let me do this." He patted Nate's leg. "Okay, esé, when I start to work you, make sure you play to the camera so I don't have to hurt you too bad."

Nate let out a shaky breath. Getting 'worked' did not sound like something he was going to enjoy.

Burro tugged at the waist band of his trousers and rational thought left Nate's brain. He pushed up off the bunk and staggered into the middle of the cell.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

Burro got to his feet. "Don't be like that. Don't make me hurt you."

Nate shook his head and readied himself to fight.

Burro shrugged and charged him, slamming him back against the wall. All the air squeezed out of Nate's lungs as his ribs burst into bright agony.

He wheezed for breath, his hands across his chest, as Burro pushed him back against the wall.

"Now, I'm going to throw you down on that bunk bed and do what I been told to do. All you gotta do is let the camera see your face."

Fuck that. Nate was not about to let anyone fuck him in the arse. No one. If that was what it took to get out of here, to get Alec free, the kid was on his own.

He struggled to free himself, but Burro had the grip of a wrestler. The Latino man threw Nate towards his bunk and shoved him down on the foam mattress.

Nate struggled for breath, the pain in his chest like explosives going off inside him.

Burro left him there a moment while he fetched a pair of handcuffs and a bottle of lube from his bag, then pushed Nate towards the wall and sat on the bed beside him.

"They can't see much under this top bunk because of the angle. All they can see is your face when you turn that way."

He fixed a handcuff around Nate's left wrist.

"If you try to fuck me—"

"I know, esé, I know," said Burro. "I know you can't turn your back on no one. I'm not going to do you like that. But that hijo de la puta wants to see you suffer. This will make him think you're suffering."

Nate jerked his cuffed wrist out of Burro's grip. "Fuck off."

Unfazed, Burro patiently captured both his wrists, using his weight to hold the younger man down.

"You got two choices, chico. You can let me handcuff you, and trust me not to hurt you too bad, or you can fight me. And if you fight me, I will hold you down and fuck you, because, chico, nothing excites me more than a pollito fighting back."

Nate couldn't help but laugh at his situation. Two choices. Two fantastic choices.

"So, you gonna fight me, chico?"

Nate searched the other man's face. Did he really believe that Burro wouldn't hurt him if he let himself be cuffed? Maybe. But he was damn certain if he kept fighting, things would get ugly.

He stopped struggling and let Burro secure his hands to the bar that ran along the top end of his bunk. It seemed like a sensible decision, but the second he heard the metallic click of the handcuffs locking in place, he felt dread slide into his stomach.

Burro scratched his nose, then held up the bottle of lube.

"This is good stuff, chico."

Nate turned his head away and Burro put a hand to his jaw, forcing the younger man to meet his gaze.

"You can play to the camera, but you stay with me, chico. You don't go away, you understand? If I'm not going to fuck that pretty ass of yours, you need to give me a reason."

Be present. Be present while this man did whatever the fuck he wanted to Nate's body. That didn't seem fair. But then, what the fuck in life was?

Burro pulled Nate's pants down and bent his legs so that his feet were resting on the mattress.

The world around Nate began to slide away. A slap brought him back.

"Be here, chico."

Burro squirted some lube on to his hand.

"Now, I'm not going to make you turn your back on me, okay? But I am going to be inside you. Just my fingers, esé. Just so the hijo de la puta knows I've done my job."

How the hell Colin would know anything of the sort, when Burro was telling him the man couldn't see anything that happened on the lower bunk, he wasn't sure—but he was in no position to argue.

Burro rubbed his fingers together, making sure they were thickly coated with lube.

"I'm going to touch you now. Just touch you, okay?"

Nate jumped as the man's fingers slid between his cheeks, the shock of the cold lube against his asshole shooting him full of adrenalin.

There was no way to control his reaction. He arched his back, tugging at the handcuffs that held him, lost to fear.

"Remember, they're watching, esé."

Burro pressed one hand lightly against his chest to still him, and as the initial shock wore off, it occurred to Nate that the Mexican might be on to something. As good as Nate was at acting, some things couldn't be faked.

He turned his face to the camera as the Latino's thick fingers circled his hole.

"That's not so bad, is it chico?" He began to stroke Nate's cock. "I can make you feel good if you let me."

As the lube warmed up, Nate did his best to relax. Between the other man's grip on his cock, and the steady, predictable circling of his fingers, it wasn't even half bad.

"Now, I'm going to put my finger in you, chico. Just one, okay? Stay with me."

He kept stroking with two fingers while he pressed a third lightly against Nate's tightly locked back door.

"Please—"

"You can't do nothing, esé. Just relax and let it be."

Nate had no trouble showing the camera his fear. But despite his terror—or maybe because of it—his cock had swollen to aching proportions. As someone who insisted on having control at all times, he wondered if he was missing out on something. Maybe after all this was over he should let Alec take charge. Once, anyway. Just to see what it was like.

"Okay, I'm going deeper now okay?"

And the fear was back.

Burro slid a thick finger deep into Nate's passage, still massaging his outer ring with his thumb.

Once Nate stopped twitching at the invasion, he started to slide his finger in and out, the squelch of lube loud in the concrete cell.

"Okay chico, I know this is hard for you, but I'm going to put another finger into you to stretch you out."

"Why?" Nate said, lifting his head off the mattress. "You said you weren't going to fuck me."

"I said I gotta do what I gotta do."

"Don't you fucking dare," Nate said, a sob of fear in his voice.

"Okay, two fingers now. Relax."

"Don't do it!"

Burro ignored him, and went to it.

Nate closed his eyes and did his best to let his muscles go as Burro slid a second finger into him, stretching him out painfully. He could only imagine what that donkey-sized cock would do to him if Burro decided to plough him.

"How you doing there, esé? " Burro asked.

"Feel free to stop any time."

Keeping his fingers inside him, the Mexican moved his bulk off the end of the bunk bed so that his head was near Nate's groin.

"Just making sure you're enjoying yourself."

"I'm not—"

Burro took Nate's cock into his mouth.

Nate closed his eyes as the combined sensations of having fingers moving in his arse, stroking the nerve endings around his hole, and a hot mouth swallowing his length, spread through him.

Burro lifted up off his cock. "The camera, esé."

Nate turned his face back to the camera, riding building waves of bliss. He knew he should show fear, but he was done with that. Now, he wanted to fuck with Colin.

He gazed up at the camera, his eyes glittering with triumph as Burro sucked his cock, the man's thick fingers working in and out of Nate's arsehole.

As the Mexican tongued pre-cum from the end of his cock, the heat inside Nate reached a raging crescendo. He blew his load with a groan, flooding Burro's mouth with hot cum as the other man swallowed his length, taking him deep.

Burro man drank it all, sliding his fingers out of Nate's arse before the younger man's orgasm finished, teasing a last jerk of cum from Nate's cock as his hole closed back up.

Nate stared up at the camera, awash with dopamine, and smiled.