Page 25 of Yours to Break

I shushed him, “Don’t worry. I’m just playing a bit. We decided to wait until after Greyson’s tantrum to really enjoy you, so I’m just getting a little taste now.” I flicked the knife, falling to my knees and leaning into his body. My tongue met his shivering chest, lapping up the droplets of his blood.

Fuuuuck.

Unable to control the growing need in my pants, I unbuckled and pulled my dick out, stroking it fast as I continued tonguing Oliver’s wound. My orgasm hit hard; cum sprayed out of my cock and onto the concrete floor below Oliver, joining the old blood stains.

Oliver began to wail loudly, “P-please stop, please! I won’t even tell anyone. I’ll-I can move to another state even! Please, please. I don’t understand w-what’s happening. Are you serial k-killers?” I bit back a chuckle. “Just l-let me go, please! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m… I’m s-scared.”

He continued to plead, gradually getting louder and louder. Eventually, those pleas turned to curses and threats once his anger had taken over.

“Let me go, you fucking motherfuckers!” He yelled, jerking in his restraints. All he was accomplishing was bruising himself. “You can’t just do this to people!”

The corner of my mouth tipped up slightly as I heard the sound of Greyson walking down the basement steps. I was hoping he wouldn’t take too long with whatever he wanted to do, and then Hudson and I would finally be able to show Oliver his new role in life as our slutty little pet.

As Greyson entered the room, Oliver went utterly still.

“Oliver,” Grey acknowledged him with a sneer.

“Psychopathic piece of shit!” Oliver spat at his best friend’s lover. Hudson and I laughed, amused by his rather brave outburst. I loved that he had that in him.

“Alright, little guy. Here’s your last chance. Tell your future brother-in-law what he wants to know,” Hudson quipped, smirking. Oliver bristled; I wondered if he was more thrown off by ‘future-brother-in-law’ or ‘last chance’. Greyson prowled forward to stand directly in front of Oliver. He would have towered over him anyway, but with Oliver sitting down, the size difference was crazy; I felt smug as Hudson and I were several inches taller than our brother, making our own size difference with Oliver downright obscene.

“Walk me through it. Lane never would have left on his own,” Greyson uttered contemptuously, kicking one of the metal chair legs.

“I already told them like a million times,” That was an exaggeration, “but I guess you’re all toofucking stupidto understand, so I’ll go through it again. Yes, I strongly encouraged Lane to run away with me. Keywords beingwith me. I haven’t heard from him since I left your apartment.”

It was fascinating watching him interact with Grey; he was so very different with us. More submissive. His hind brain already recognized us as his Masters. Sure, he had yelled and cursed us, but you could tell he was holding back. With Greyson, he was truly fighting; his hatred for him burned in his eyes. It was beautiful. I was learning so much about our new pet already.

Greyson seethed, “Are there any people besides you and his parents that he could have gone to?”

“Not that I know of.” His voice then got small as he mumbled, “I didn’t think he’d go by himself. That isn’t what I wanted.”

Greyson turned to nod at me. I knew what he wanted, and it certainly wasn’t going to gain us any progress with Oliver, but we deferred to him for a reason. He was the only reason we had survived our childhood.

“Do just one for now,” Greyson instructed. I walked to the wall holding our torture instruments, retrieving the rubber mallet. As I began walking back to Oliver, I felt a nagging from deep within telling me to stop. I reasoned with myself as I stared down at his wet face—snot and tears everywhere—that it wasonlypsychological torture.

He hiccuped, tears falling as he begged each of us, “Please don’t. I’m s-so sorry. Please! Lane wouldn’t want you to hurt me. P-Please!” When I wouldn’t respond, he whipped his head around to catch Hudson’s gaze. He pitifully pleaded, “You… Y-you p-promised– promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”

Hudson looked at him with a blank stare—one that only I could see through—before shrugging. I almost grimaced as Oliver’s face fell in despair when Hudson answered, “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

I knelt beside the chair, caught in a bubble of Oliver’s whimpers and broken sounds. He braced himself as I began to raise the mallet; his eyes clenched shut as if that would shut out the scene going on around him.

I gave a short caress to his ankle, then swung.

11

Oliver

The air around me felt suffocating in that moment. It felt like time had slowed, drawing out the milliseconds before my punishment.

Because that was what this was, wasn’t it? Punishment.

This was my punishment for hurting Lane.

For failing him.

I let out a heavy sob, sucking in air as life resumed—ready for the pain I deserved.

But it didn’t come.

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