Page 28 of Darkest Descent

I urged Asher’s legs apart and got to it, attaching the hose to the side of the bucket to suck up the liquid, and spitting on the attachment that would go inside Asher. Of course, Hunter had given us no lube. He openly rubbed his crotch while he watched us, and I resisted the urge to look at him. Acknowledge him.

A quiet part of me wanted to make this hurt for my brother, overfill him or shove the implement in dry, but I didn’t. Some fucked up revenge for what he’d done under duress, under torture. That would give Hunter what he craved from us, and fuck that. I sucked my finger for a moment and rubbed it over Asher’s waiting asshole. He was tense. I could tell from how tight the pucker felt, so I massaged it more, soothing him until his muscles relaxed a fraction.

Pressing the enema inside him didn’t look as strange as I thought it would, and the way he reacted wasn’t with anguish. He just seemed a bit uncomfortable. But when the water started flowing inside him, cold and unrelenting, it was clear it hurt.

“Yesss,” Hunter groaned, squatting down to the side for a better view. “Fill him up, make his belly bulge with it.” He stroked Asher’s stomach, massaging his skin right above his pubic hair.

I didn’t stop filling him up until the bucket was empty and Asher’s belly distended a little.

“Hold it in there,” Hunter demanded, kissing Asher’s back, laying soft, sucking pecks along his side and down his spine, like he was worshipping him. I watched in silence, awaiting my next command.

Asher’s toes curled, and he keened with a pained sound. After minutes passed, Hunter encouraged him to move, sitting with a squat so his ass was near the floor and his belly pressed into his thighs. Asher was sweating, his brows drawn together as Hunter held onto his face, forcing my brother’s gaze on him.

“Pull it out now,” Hunter told me, excited. “And you.” He pecked Asher’s nose. “You push.”

I withdrew the hose from Asher’s ass, watching as water trickled out before his hole clenched up. Asher shook his head, seemingly afraid to release.

“Push,” Hunter urged. “Let me hear you cleaning yourself out for me.”

Asher was so tense, his muscles tight, his ass cheeks drawn together and his toes curled under. This would never be over, and I needed it to be. So I spat on my finger again and pushed it inside him. No warning, no preparation, just my entire finger thrust deep in his wet asshole.

He gasped, and as I yanked it out, a gush of fluid followed. I looked away then, listening as water poured from him, the sound of splashing mixing with his groans as his ass emptied onto the floor. Hunter talked him through it, cooing and praising until it was all out, stroking at his skin with an unnerving tenderness.

“Give him a taste,” Hunter said, looking at me from around my brother. “Check he’s thoroughly cleaned. Then we can go upstairs and settle in for a night of fun.”

Shockingly, the first thought I had was the surprise that it was nighttime. The idea of licking Asher’s ass was nothing now. And I could see it was clean. Pink and glistening. So I didn’t speak back or even react before leaning down and swiping my tongue over his hole, tasting only skin.

“You want to check?” I asked Hunter, shoving my flat tongue out at him. He chuckled, then stood. Waving at us to follow.

My eye landed on Asher’s ass again. It looked so… tight. Unabused. Mine still hurt, the terrible diet we were on down here not helping matters. Would Asher end up like me? Would we die both as abused as a body can be? The thought was unbearable.

And as I followed Hunter up the stairs, that sense of uncomfort stuck. I didn’t want him to win.

***

This wasn’t Hunter’s bedroom, but it was still warm and cozy. But then anyplace would be compared to our home for the last however long. The bed was large, and so desperately inviting. He laid towels down over the sheets, then guided both Asher and me to lie down. He questioned whether to tie us up, but then flashed a cocky grin and shrugged. It was like he was goading us, like he knew it was ending now, too. Something different hung heavy over us.

“First, we need to get this bandage off,” he directed at me. “I want to see your damaged pussy. I bet it looks like a fucking cheese grater with all those holes.”

“You’re sick,” I blurted, then sucked my lips into my mouth to stop myself from carrying on. Bide your time.

Hunter cricked his neck, ignoring my words – but tension struck harder between us, anger showing in the way his nostrils flared.

His fists clenched, his eyes narrowed, and he took deep breaths. If he made me take this bandage off now, I’d have nowhere to hide the needle. I needed to get on the bed, bury it in the sheets or under the pillow, then await the perfect moment.

“Get your brother ready for me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Unlike you, he hasn’t been naughty. He deserves prep.”

With no hesitation, I rolled over and positioned myself between Asher’s legs. I knew what Hunter wanted from me, and yeah, fuck it. We weren’t getting out of here alive. None of us were.

As I spread my brother’s thighs and bent down to bury my face between his legs, I was over trying to fight my pull to him. With the first drag of my tongue across his asshole, and his intense response, I decided I wanted to enjoy our last time together. It was sick. We all were. But my fear ebbed, the power in knowing I was going out fighting, that we had a plan. We were going to overpower Hunter with a needle and a damn prayer.

Asher groaned when I shoved my tongue into his hole, refusing to let him hurt. I would get him ready, defy Hunter’s desire to have us hate each other. We weren’t his to manipulate. I was Asher’s. And Asher was mine.

Almost the end.

18

Asher

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