Chapter Text
Victor Langston is a self-made real estate tycoon who built his fortune flipping distressed properties in the 90s, eventually amassing a portfolio of luxury high-rises and resorts across the Northeast. He pretended to be straight as he built his fortune, playing the game until he didn’t have to. He married a young woman whose father was in the construction industry. She knew he gay and as long as she was taken care of, she didn’t care. She also made sure that her daddy was good to him. It all worked out beautifully.
Their marriage was one of convenience, but Victor and his wife actually got along as friends. When she died nearly twenty years ago of cancer, it saddened him. But, he just picked up and moved on. Victor retreated into a life of quiet excess. He began collecting young men, the same young men he used to play with when his wife was alive. Now, he didn’t have to hide his true intentions.
Victor lured cute boys with the promise of a life of luxury. In return, they had to entertain him, which meant twisted, wild sex with one another, though not with Victor. The boys either had no family or were estranged from their families. They were usually hustlers, homeless boys, wayward rich kids, drug addicts or otherwise damaged boys with little to look forward to in life.
Occasionally, Victor might invite one of them to be alone with him, but despite being relatively young, he suffered from his own ailments that made sex unpleasant. That didn’t mean he wasn’t horny, though. He would give the boys assignments and they would have to perform. Sometimes as some combination of the boys or all of them, sometimes it was just one. However the group was arranged, you can be assured it was going to be something unusual.
Aside from the forced depravity, the boys lived well. Victor lavished them with money, cars, clothes, and a lifestyle that was far beyond anything they could ever imagine. They lived in their own luxurious Manhattan apartment just below his spectacular penthouse. There were rules and Victor enforced them, all things considered, the boys lived well.
With his first round of boys, Victor had a lot of fun. He actually had hoped to just have these boys around indefinitely and when someone was ready to leave, he’d just hand them a wad of cash and bid them farewell. But unfortunately, wealth went right to these boys’ heads. They went from appreciative to entitled pretty quickly. They started to question what was expected of them and even refuse to do what they committed to. Boys were snapping at him, defying him and were overall unpleasant to be around. They stole from him, did drugs, had parties in their apartment without including him. They became out of control brats. He was done with them.
That first set of boys had it easy and lasted the longest. After about five years he kicked them out of the apartment and took away everything he’d given them. Their bank accounts were frozen, cars repossessed, apartment locked. Whatever the left home with that day was all they had. He then reported all of them to the police. One by one each boy was arrested and with his wealth, he was able to ensure they were prosecuted and went to jail. Only one of them actually survived his banishment. The other four either were killed in jail or killed themselves.
The second set of boys fell apart in pieces. One of them overdosed. Another crashed his car into a telephone pole and was killed instantly. The remaining three didn’t seem to learn from the other’s mistakes and continued to be difficult. He took them out on his boat and out into the waters far off the coast of some Caribbean Island. He pushed them overboard and sped away. He figured if any of them made it back to land, he’d reconsider taking them in again. None of them did.
Which brings us to his latest set of toys - that’s what Victor considered them at this point. Toys that he could play with and then throw away when he was bored with them. He found Jake, Harley, Andy and Ricky in the usual ways and made them a part of his life. Just like all the others, things started out well. They did the crazy things he demanded of them, treated him like the Victor he expected to be and always showed their appreciation. That honeymoon was the shortest of all.
They really didn’t last long. Their growing demands, petty rivalries, endless troubles and his waning interest sealed their fate. He didn’t want to go through much trouble getting rid of them this time. He wanted them to go out in a way that provided him with the twisted entertainment he craved. A friend of his had his husband killed about a year earlier. When he heard Victor complaining, he suggested he hire someone. He showed Victor the video of his husband being killed. It was a brutal, gory scene.
Victor loved it. He watched as his friend’s husband was kidnapped and beaten. Then he was taken to a field somewhere in Pennsylvania where his hands and feet were cut off with very dull hacksaws. It only got sicker from there. While he was being raped by one guy, two others were chopping his arms and legs off with axes. They took turns raping his bloody torso and then shoved a baseball bat riddled with nails into his ass and fucked him until he finally died. After he was dead, the put his body and its parts through a wood chipper.
So, Victor hired a crew of boys who were known for their creative, but depraved ways of killing people. He didn’t want the blood and gore for them, he had other plans. Through a series of anonymous calls and texts he arranged for his boys to meet a rather disgusting end.
***
Jake grew up in a middle-class suburban family in Connecticut, but always craved more than his boring life offered. A high school dropout who bounced between retail jobs, he met Victor at a party in Brooklyn where he was crashing for free booze. He tried to act like a tough buy, but once he was under Victor’s control, Jake played the eager sub. But he became bossy and demanding - and annoying. He ordered the others around, demanded expensive gifts, and treated Victor like an ATM. He grew entitled, skimming cash, starting side hustles with Victor’s credit cards, and openly mocking the mogul behind his back while still taking every luxury perk.
Harley came from a rough foster home background in Newark, New Jersey, where he learned early to use his looks and charm to survive. A former street hustler with a rap sheet for petty theft, he hooked up with Victor through a high-end escort service. Drawn by the promise of stability and rough play that matched his masochistic streak, Harley was the group's wild card. He jumped right into the riskiest sex and even had a full-blown scat fetish, which he indulged shamelessly. Harley was greedy and volatile, often screaming at Victor in front of people when he didn’t get his way.
Ricky was a former child model from Miami whose career fizzled when he hit puberty. Spoiled by his parents' failed attempts to relaunch him, he turned to online cam shows and apps for quick cash, where Victor spotted him. Ricky jumped at the luxury life, trading his looks for gifts, trips, and status. Over time he became shallow and entitled, constantly complaining about boredom and treating the other twinks like competition rather than friends. He’d secretly sell Victor’s gifts on the side to fund his own little vices, convinced the mogul was too rich to care.
Andy grew up in a strict religious family in rural Pennsylvania, running away after being caught with a boyfriend. He drifted into stripping in Philadelphia, where Victor rescued him with promises of security. Andy was the group's yes-man, going along with anything for the easy life. His passivity hid a sneaky side, he used the cash he took from Victor to fund a small drug operation, selling party drugs at the clubs.
After three years of dealing with these brats, the worst of the worst, Victor was already finding replacements. He was giving up on the usual spots and instead hooked up with a human trafficker who could find him the kinds of toys that would be resistant to becoming entitled assholes.
In the meantime, he planned the demise of his latest group of failures. He made it seem like he was rewarding them. He pulled them together and told them how much they meant to him and how they were his favorites of all the boys he’s ever had. He arranged for a very special weekend for them.
It started with a lavish catered party in his penthouse in their honor. A select group of his friends knew what was going on, but the rest of the folks were just there for a fancy party. The next night, he sent Jake, Harley, Ricky and Andy to a huge outdoor electronic music festival in Brooklyn. They danced their asses off among thousands of other partiers. They were true VIPs getting to meet and hang with the DJs and had their own private trailer where they had all the drugs and alcohol they could handle. The next day they were offered a wild fetish party with two hot escorts Victor hired for them. At least that’s what they thought it was.
***
“Hey boys!” Wyatt shouted as he welcomed them. Wyatt stood tall at 6’2”, his dark hair slicked back, dark eyes sparking under his designer glasses. He was sharply dressed, as usual. If anyone was nervous, his bright, friendly smile calmed them immediately.
“Yo, wassup hotties?” Jason added, reaching around Harley for a bro hug. Jason was a solid, muscular boy built like a rugby player. He was only 5’6” tall but his cheerful personality was bigger than life.
The boys were near carbon copies of one another. They were your standard issue twinks - boyish, hairless, and skinny, with just a hint of being effeminate. They were pleased with their hosts. “Wow, Master wasn’t messing around. You boys are hot as fuck!” Andy said excitedly as he hugged Wyatt.
“I can tell this night is going to be fire!” Ricky cheered as he brushed his hands over the line of vodka bottles on the bar. “Ohhh, you have all the flavors!” He squealed as he took hold of Wyatt’s arm.
“Cosmos, boys?” Wyatt asked as he prepared to mix drinks. He gently nudged Ricky back over to the others. His recipe for the night's cocktails was not something he wanted to share with the twinks.
“Can I have mine straight up and chilled?” Jake requested. Wyatt assured him he could have his cocktail as he liked.
The clink of glass on glass as Wyatt shook the cocktails let the boys know things were about to get wild. The warehouse was insane with its echoing ceilings, scuffed concrete, and tangles of LED ropes crawling up the old brick like dormant vines waiting for their cue.
Wyatt lined up the stemmed glasses, tossing in a pinwheeling strip of orange peel to each before he poured. He’d measured tight, measured careful—just enough party favor to tip the world, not enough to shatter it. The powder hissed as it hit the swirling cosmos, leaving only a faint shimmer. For Jake, who’d made a face at the suggestion of cranberry, a plain wedge of ice and double vodka, the contents clear as the cold outside.
Jason, already adopted by the clutch of twinks, scooped up the drinks and delivered them with exaggerated flair. Drinks raised, they huddled for a Snap, faces tight and smooth and radiant under the warehouse’s cold glow. Ricky sipped first, his lips shiny and pink, then Andy and Harley, who both giggled at the fireworks of lime and sugar. Jake, ever the holdout, took his in a silent, eyes-closed shot.
The drinks kept flowing as the twinks danced around, peeling off clothes, giggling and groping at each other as well as Jason and Wyatt. Each round for the twinks had just a little more of the concoction Ethan had made just for the occasion. Jason was disappointed Ethan wasn’t part of the fun, but he wasn’t the right type for these boys.
The party eventually kicked into high gear. Once they were naked, the twinks engaged in a whole host of kinky activities with Wyatt sort of directing things and Jason being as much of a slut as they wanted him to be. Things started vanilla, but didn’t stay that way for long. Between Jason and Wyatt he the twinks had two massive cocks to beg for and play with - Wyatt’s eleven inches and Jason’s ten were in demand from all the boys.
Soon, it became a free-for-all. The drugs were doing exactly what they needed to and sucking and fucking quickly evolved into fisting and watersports. Jake, who tried to play it cool earlier, was clearly the power bottom of the group. Wyatt was plowing him hard while he choked on Andy’s dick. Meanwhile Harley needed it rough and was letting Jason choke and smack him while he fucked him. Someone had just cum on the floor and Ricky was bent over slurping it up.
After filling Jake’s hole with his load, Andy was begging to be fucked, but Jake got into it with him and the two boys started smacking each other. Wyatt commanded them to stop. He sent Andy to the bar to grab one of the empty vodka bottle. While he was gone, Wyatt shoved his fist deep into Jake’s ass with no warning. The boy’s screams caught the room’s attention. Ricky went over to shove his cock in Jake’s mouth. Soon, Andy was letting Wyatt fuck him with the empty vodka bottle.
Jason was going hard on Harley. He checked in once or twice and Harley was fine getting abused like he was. Jason was working both of his thick arms up Harley’s ass. The kid kept begging for him to go harder, so Jason started to punch fist Harley. He figured the kid would be dead soon, so there was no reason to hold back. It didn’t seem to matter to anyone that his hole had been punched so raw he was bleeding a little.
Finally, Andy was getting fisted by Wyatt while Jake was fucking himself with the bottle. Ricky was over sitting on Harley’s face shitting cum from earlier into his mouth. Jason, now bored with Harley, grabbed Ricky and threw him on the couch. He jammed his cock down Ricky’s throat and fucked him relentlessly until the boy puked all over the couch. Jason made Harley lick it up while Ricky fucked him. He went over to join Wyatt.
When Jason came over, Andy wandered over to Harley and Ricky and shoved his cock into Harley’s throat making him puke up the vomit he’d just licked up. Jason and Wyatt were double penetrating Jake’s ass with their monster cocks, making him squeal. Ricky and Andy were both shoving their fists into Harley’s wrecked, bloody ass. The drugs had hit so hard, none of them were in their right mind.
Ethan was off in another room capturing everything on video through the multiple cameras he’d installed discretely all over the loft. He couldn’t be a part of things because he wasn’t hot enough for the shallow minded twinks. His long greasy hair, patchy facial hair, acne, body odor and ratty clothes would never have been acceptable. He didn’t mind, he was locked in chastity anyway. He sat at a set of terminals with a cooler full of Mountain Dew Code Red and a take out container filled with Wyatt and Jason’s shit, which he was snacking on, eating it with his fingers. He was keeping Glenn, who was back in OKC updated on what was happening and sending pictures so he could keep the client apprised.
As the night wore on, the orgy showed no signs of slowing. Partners rotated constantly, everyone getting a chance to explore and pleasure each other in turn. The boys were especially into Jason, each one worshipping his body in their own way. Wyatt didn’t mind. He wasn’t terribly into these boys anyway and would rather slit their throats and fuck their corpses anyway. Jason leaned into Wyatt and whispered to him. “I think they’re ready.” Wyatt agreed, then headed to the bar to get jello shots. Meanwhile, Jason stepped behind what looked like an ordinary curtain just hiding a wall.
“Ok boys! jello shots!!” Wyatt shouted as he started handing out little plastic cups filled with colorful jello laced with a dose of a fast acting, short effect neuromuscular blocker. Within seconds it made the twinks go boneless for about 30 minutes. They each went down fast, still aware something was happening, but unable to do anything about it, they couldn’t even speak.
Ethan appeared from the shadows as Jason pulled back the curtain. Each boy was lowered into a cylindrical plexiglass tank. The tanks were tall enough to still be about a foot over each boy and narrow enough for them to stand and move around. The tanks were sealed with a vented lid that had a wide hose attached to it. The hoses ran out a window. By the time each boy was sealed away, the drug had worn off.
“HEY!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!! GET US OUT OF HERE!!” Jake screamed. The others also yelled and shouted, banging on the walls of the tanks. They were still high but suddenly sobered up enough to understand something was wrong.
“Aww, gee boys, I wish we didn’t have to do this, we were having fun, right Jason?” Wyatt said mockingly.
“Yeah, you sluts are some horny little bitches. Just think, the last few hours of your life were so much fun. You’re gonna die so happy!” Jason laughed sinisterly.
“Would you like me to turn the pumps on?” Ethan asked.
“Sure, buddy. Let’s give them a taste of what’s to come!” Wyatt said as he slapped one of the tanks, teasing Harley.
As they twinks screamed and begged for their lives, Ethan turned on a pump for each tank. Within minutes a disgusting brown sludge was dumped over the boy’s heads. Immediately, Ricky and Andy started to vomit. Jake was furious and was trying so hard to kick or punch his way out of the tank he had bloody hands and feet. Harley just stood there, letting the sludge wash over him, catching some of it in his mouth. It was as if he’d resigned himself to his fate and decided to enjoy it. Jason had Ethan turn the pumps off when the sludge was about to their knees.
Jake spat sludge out of his mouth and began to shout, his voice shredded with outrage, “What the fuck is this?! What the fuck!?” He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. The brown gunk clung to his skin like wet clay and reeked of chemicals and raw sewage. He punched the wall of the tank so hard he broke his hand.
“It’s a special blend that Victor wanted us to use,” Jason said, grinning and walking past the tanks. “You ever wonder what happens to the porta potties after a music festival? Turns out they pump all the shit out, but nobody cares where it goes.” He rapped twice on the plexiglass. “You boys are marinating in last night’s runoff.”
Ricky’s screams took on a higher pitch, almost a whistle. He was clawing at the tank walls, leaving streaks of the greasy filth behind. Andy was gagging, retching in quick explosions. He pressed his forehead to the inside of the slick tank, eyes half-shut, as if he could simply pass out and fade away.
Harley, already a scat queen, was floating in his own little chemical cloud. He smiled a numb smile as he slid down and let the stuff splash against his cheeks and dribble down his chin. He was slowly drinking the mess, chewing on random solid bits as he did. The jello shots had softened his world. Everything in here was funny now, so long as he kept thinking of it that way.
Wyatt tapped on the tanks with the tip of his knuckle, calling for attention. “Listen up, you miserable fucks. I know you’re all in there thinking maybe this is a twisted kind of joke. Like Victor is gonna come through the door any minute and bail you out.” He walked down the line, making eye contact through the smeared, streaked plexiglass. His eyes lingered on Ricky, whose face was smeared brown and whose mouth quavered like a traumatized child’s.
“Here’s the deal, you’re not his favorites anymore. He’s got a new crop of boys. They’re smoother, tighter, cuter, and they aren’t pretentious little fuckwads like you four.” He leaned in close to Jake’s tank, taking in the shuddering chest and the sweat-slick hair pasted to his forehead. “You made it to the semi-finals, but let’s be real, none of you are championship material.”
With a nod from Wyatt, Ethan turned the pumps back on and the waste started filling the tanks again, the sludge was getting thicker and pooling around them faster, rising up their skinny little bodies.
Harley simply dunked himself deeper into the muck, actually flipping himself over so he was on his head, his mouth was moving like a hungry fish as he gobbled up the disgusting stew. Jake started banging his head against the plexiglass. He would rather kill himself than drown in this mess. Andy just leaned against the wall of the tank, staring blankly. Ricky cried and shrieked begging to be let go.
Ricky tried not to inhale but the stench wormed up his nose anyway, hot and raw. He coughed and spluttered, then the ooze was lapping up over his belly, his chest, his shoulders. He pressed his chin to his chest and scrabbled at the tank lid, the vent caught under his fingernails. He slipped and lost his grip just as Ethan had the lids seal shut. He screamed for help even though nobody would come. His voice dissolved into a phlegmy rattle, stripped of all dignity.
Jake, losing all sense of rationality, kept banging his head against the walls until his skull finally did crack - just in time for the waste to ooze into his head. He made one last attempt to hold onto the lid only to have his fingers sliced off when Ethan closed the vents and sealed the tank.
Andy wasn’t moving at all, just floated limp, the gunk pulsing around his scalp like a sick halo. Harley let himself sink and now the only thing visible was a pale, grinning mouthful of giggles, lost somewhere under the surface. Only the occasional bubble or ripple betrayed he was still sucking breath, or trying to.
“This is so beautiful. I love watching them each do their own dance of death. This is the part of the job that is so rewarding. I like watching each of them dying slowly in their own way. This boy here is my favorite.” Ethan said in his flat tone, tapping on Harley’s tank, watching Harley move around, still trying to eat everything, though he was slowing down. “This boy understood the assignment. It really is best to just let it wash over you and enjoy it. It isn’t like they have a choice anymore.”
“The way this hotshot kept hitting that plexiglass like he was going to break through.” Wyatt laughed. “Silly twink, that tank is an inch thick!”
Jason faked like he was kissing the open mouth of Andy that was pressed against the glass. He was clearly dead, at least they assumed he was. “Aww, sweet little boy. You were a cutie. Now you’re fucking drowning in a shit snow globe!”
It didn’t take long for the boys to all drown to death. Once they did, Ethan and Jason did the heavy lifting and boarded the tanks up. Each tank looked like a giant sculpture about to be shipped to a museum. Ethan disconnected the pumps and closed off the tankers to be picked up in the morning. Wyatt gathered up the bar and then pulled out a bottle of single malt scotch. He poured a glass each for him, Jason and Ethan and they waited for the tanks to be picked up.
“Damn, this was very enjoyable." Ethan monotoned. Ethan was brilliant, but also on the high functioning end of the spectrum. Everything he said, excited or not, was the same even tone. “These elaborate jobs are awesome. I know I was able to get some great footage.”
“It’s a nice paycheck too!” Jason cheered as they toasted their success. “Glenn was able to get five times the expense for this one! That’s almost a million a piece!”
“Fucking hell. Nice work boys.” Wyatt praised. “Seriously, Ethan, you’re a genius. This whole operation came together thanks to your relentless attention to details.” Ethan smiled as Wyatt ruffled his messy mop of hair. Until he met these boys, compliments were not something Ethan got a lot of. “Now, we’ve got at least an hour before they get picked up. Ethan, how about you get into position.”
Knowing his place at the crew’s submissive, the grungy 5’10” boy stripped off his clothes and got down on all fours. Ethan was an unusual boy. A complete genius who was also on the spectrum, most people didn’t understand him. When you add in his unkempt look and smell - which is intentional, it was no wonder he had difficulty growing up. He had many strange quirks, but the boys had grown to love him and found his unusual nature endearing.
Wyatt’s cock jammed past Ethan’s lips, the first thrust brutal, pinning Ethan’s head with both hands. His jaw ached, though he loved this, the violence of it, the purpose it gave him. He gagged, drooled, whimpered as Wyatt’s hands wrapped his greasy hair and pulled his head back, stretching his neck to keep the airway open.
Behind, Jason shoved himself into the boy’s ass so hard, Ethan’s knees nearly gave out. His cage bruised the skin where it bit down tight around his balls. Ethan felt the rhythm build, the coordination, the efficiency of Wyatt holding him steady, Jason pounding up from behind, both of them using him like a favorite toy. It wasn’t like what his boyfriend and Master Glenn gave him, but he still loved the way Wyatt and Jason would use and degrade him.
Wyatt jammed his cock down Ethan’s throat, and ground his hips like he was trying to break something loose. Ethan’s world narrowed to the taste of Wyatt’s cock. He liked these times when he was just a sleeve, a suctioning, shuddering cocksleeve to be fucked in both his holes. Each piston stroke forced spit and snot to drip down his face and chin. There was no rhythm, only savagery. Wyatt’s grip held him so tight that all he could do was babble and drool.
Jason’s cock crammed inside Ethan, slamming against him with abandon, squelching out oozing shit with every thrust. He held Ethan’s hips tight and used his thick cock like a battering ram. He watched the brown filth coat his shaft as it pounded in and out, not slowing, not caring. He was making Ethan a mess, making him into something foul, something worth using. He spat down, slicked the mess around the base, and went harder, the rhythm now a series of brutal jabs. Ethan’s whole body stank of shit and sweat, but it always did.
Wyatt’s cock pulsed, throbbing until Ethan felt the hot blast of cum deep in his throat. Another, and another, until it overflowed, Wyatt yanking out to finish across Ethan’s lips and cheek, the pearly streaks smearing his glasses. Ethan smiled up at Wyatt, showing his pride in his ability to handle his massive cock.
Just then Jason’s thrusts picked up speed, the violence of it knocking Ethan’s knees forward on the floor. Even though his ass was so thoroughly used, he still felt the pain of a hard fuck. He hungered for the feeling of being hollowed out, ruined. Jason’s cock jerked and Ethan felt the sudden warmth of being flooded.
Ethan twisted around without missing a beat, his lips already seeking the shit-slicked shaft jutting from between Jason’s thighs. The boy loved the taste of shit. He was proud of the fact that he loved to eat shit. He let the flavor coat his cheeks. He slurped, cleaned, swallowed with greedy gulps, his mouth working in sync with Jason’s smug skullfucks.
Wyatt was watching, glass of scotch in hand, eyes dark and hungry behind his glasses. “Good boy,” he purred. The praise was a shot of dopamine right to Ethan’s complicated brain. “When he’s done, you know what to do.” Wyatt said to Jason.
Ethan licked his lips and watched Jason drop to his knees before Wyatt, swallowing his cock whole. Jason loved cock, anyone could see that. He craved it, Wyatt’s especially. It was no different than growing up with Glenn, he had Wyatt’s cock in his mouth more often than not. It was a total oral fixation. Jason worked his boyfriend’s cock with single-minded focus, like there was nothing else worth existing for.
Ethan was left kneeling on the floor, his own hole gaping and leaking spunk and runny shit. He pressed two fingers to his raw ring and scooped out the warm, mushy mix, holding it up to his face. His own smell almost made him dizzy. He sucked the mess from his fingers, savoring it like it was the frosting from his birthday cake.
Finally, Wyatt’s phone buzzed. “Well boys, we’ll have to pick this up at the hotel. Trucks are here. Everyone pulled themselves together and let the trucks in to pick up the tanks. Ethan got dressed, paying no mind to his filthy ass, and went to collect his equipment.
When the crew came in to move the tanks, Wyatt went over the final instructions with the drivers. The tanks were to be delivered to the highway interchange project at State Routes 256 and 34. They were to be loaded into the ramps leading up to the overpass. Each boy would get a corner. By morning, concrete will have sealed them under those ramps for at least 30 or 40 years.
They loaded up their stuff in the rental and left the warehouse and the morbid depravity behind. They headed back to their hotel. “We need to text Glenn that it’s done.” Jason said as he started up the Range Rover. “Will we get confirmation when they are buried?” He asked Wyatt, who was the logistics guy and made all of the arrangements for disposal.
“I have already done that. I sent him some previews of the videos. I think Glenn will be very pleased.” Ethan responded.
“The truckers will send photos of the drop and I have someone who will be sending video of the pouring of the concrete. Trust me. No one will ever see those boys again.” A confident Wyatt added.
Ethan leaned in from the back seat, wedging himself between the seats and showed Jason and Wyatt a sample of the video from cameras that were attached to the lids inside the tank. They were great shots from above of Andy and Ricky choking, gasping, suffocating in the tank of shit. “I love how absolutely gorgeous this is. I hope Glenn will let me jerk off to these sometime.” Glenn kept Ethan under his strict control.
The boys arrived back at their hotel, a spacious suite in a boutique hotel that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge. Ethan set up the camera in his room for them to call Glenn. He was going to stay on with Glenn once they finished with their business. Glenn missed Ethan when he wasn’t around and the feeling went both ways. The direction their relationship had taken surprised them both.
The three of them sat on the edge of Ethan’s bed, drinks in hand. Glenn appeared on the screen looking pleased. “Welcome back boys. Let’s debrief.”
***
Glenn Carson was fascinated with death from an early age. As a small boy he would capture various insects and take them apart or find ways to torture them to see how long they would stay alive. As he got older, his evil was focused on mice, rats and rabbits, among other small animals. Glenn’s parents were oblivious to these activities because they were neglectful, abusive parents. They frequently denied him meals, locked him in closets and physically abused him. Then his brother was born.
When Jason was born, their parents did the bare minimum to take care of the boy. When he was older, the physical abuse started and it was much worse for Jason. Glenn did his best to try to protect his younger brother, but they would only lock him away so they could focus their cruelty exclusively on Jason.
Glenn and Jason would eventually become very close, depending on each other for comfort and support as they dealt with their horrible parents. Their closeness grew deeper and the brothers found themselves developing feelings for one another. Their relationship went well beyond brotherly. They were fully devoted to one another emotionally, romantically and sexually.
Jason was just as interested in killing things as Glenn, only he was more brutal. He turned to athletics such as wrestling and rugby to channel some of that energy, but Glenn helped him nurture his own evil side. Where Glenn might torture an animal to make it squeal or pick it apart piece by piece, Jason would twist heads off, snap bones or simply crush things.
As Jason got older, the parental abuse turned sexual. By the time Jason was ten, both his father and his mother were molesting him and worse. Jason hated it because it was not only painful, but it detracted from the sexual experiences he was having with his brother, which he enjoyed. Glenn was infuriated at how Jason was treated.
When Glenn was fifteen, he killed another human being for the first time. He had been fantasizing about it for a long time and he needed to know if he could do it. He chose his victim after watching older neighborhood boys use an abandoned trailer to get high. One night he noticed only one boy was there and that sealed things for Glenn, he was a full fledged, demented killer.
***
Danny, a lonely twenty year old drug runner for the local dealer, sat alone on the trailer's rusted steps, smoke curling from his lips into the air. Glenn had memorized the boy’s habits like a predator studies prey. He knew Danny would be alone, that the others were gone for the night. The boy always lingered after the others left, pocketing their forgotten scraps. The knife felt heavy in Glenn's hand, its dull blade stolen from the basement. Glenn's pulse quickened as he imagined the damage it would do.
Creeping up to him like a cat, Glenn yanked Danny into the trailer with the rope from his backpack, savoring the strangled noise as hemp bit into flesh. He bound Danny's wrists to a rusted beam poking through the splintered floor, then secured his ankles the same way. Despite frantic struggling, Glenn's knots held firm. He leaned close, breathing in the scent of weed and fear and whispered with unsettling tenderness, "Stay still. I'm just curious about something." Danny cried and begged Glenn to let him go.
Glenn stripped naked and then tore Danny's clothes off. Danny screamed as his back scraped against the splintered floor. Glenn forced his legs apart, spat once, and thrust inside. Each violent movement slammed Danny's head into the metal beam. When Glenn pulled out, he shoved his fist in instead, the sound wet and sharp in the trailer's silence. Blood began to pool beneath them as Danny's body tore.
Glenn sank the knife into Danny's thigh first, watching skin split and blood pool between the rotting floorboards. Danny's screams grew hoarse, but Glenn was already making his next cut, a shallow slice along the forearm, then deeper into the belly. He wanted to see how long it would take for Danny's movements to slow, for his sounds to fade. The blade scraped bone as Glenn worked methodically, careful to avoid arteries and the throat where pulse hammered visibly. This wasn't about killing. Not yet.
The knife tore through Danny's shoulder with a wet sound. Blood sprayed in hot arcs, splattering Glenn's chest and face. He giggled, wiped his mouth with a trembling hand, and savored the metallic taste. Danny's screams faded to gurgles as his body twitched involuntarily. Glenn hacked deeper, freed a chunk of flesh with a grunt, and held it up between his fingers. He marveled at it briefly before tossing it aside with a wet slap, already reaching for another piece.
Sensing Danny didn’t have much life left in him, Glenn punctured Danny's eye with a resisting pop that sent a jolt of pleasure up Glenn's arm. Fluid spurted between his fingers as he twisted the blade in a circle. Danny's scream hit a pitch Glenn didn’t know a human could make. His remaining eye bulged wide as his spine arched off the floor. Glenn ripped the knife free, then forced the eyelid open. "Watch me take the other one," he hissed, plunging deeper this time, sawing it side-to-side until something crucial snapped. Danny's body went rigid with a death-rattle as urine soaked the floor. Glenn pressed close to the ruined sockets. "Now you can't see what comes next."
Danny's chest hitched with weakening gasps as Glenn methodically drove the knife between his ribs. Stab, twist, pull, repeat. When Glenn severed Danny's cock from his body, the flesh was already cold in his hand. He stuffed it into Danny’s mouth watching throat convulse around it one final time.
Glenn fucked Danny's corpse with mechanical detachment. The dead flesh yielded beneath him as he continued cutting, entrails tangling around his wrists. He carved deeper, watching organs spill out, still faintly pulsing. When a lung tore loose, he pushed it aside to extract the liver. He bit into the warm organ, finding its bitter taste oddly satisfying enough for several more bites.
At this point, Glenn was giddy. Not only was he able to kill another person, he had far too much fun doing it. He decided to take it a step further, but first he took pictures to show Jason.
He went at his ‘decorating’ like he was building a set for a sick play. Flayed the skin in long strips and tacked it to the inside of the trailer’s battered door like a twisted curtain. Glenn wound intestines around the pipe running along the ceiling, looping them like grotesque party streamers. He propped what was left of the liver on a warped shelf beside a broken bobble head. The heart was impaled on the spike of a coat hook. He continued until nearly all of Danny’s body was torn apart.
Glenn stepped back, panting, fingers sticky with blood, and grinned at his handiwork. He snapped more pictures and grabbed the pot and cigarettes from Danny’s jacket. He then decided the jacket would be a cool souvenir of his first real kill. He hopped on his bike and rode home as fast as he could so he could tell Jason all about it.
“Now that I know I can do it, we’re going to take care of mom and dad.” Glenn was done letting his younger brother suffer at the hands of people he considered worthless.
“Seriously? We’re really going to do it?” Jason asked eagerly.
“Fuck yes, little brother. I love you too much to see you get hurt like that anymore. It will take some time to plan and I want to let some time pass from when they find that kid I butchered.”
“I love you too, Glenn. Thank you, I can’t wait!”
***
When they were sixteen and twelve respectively, after nearly a year of planning, Glenn and Jason brutally murdered their parents in a gruesome, torturous way. They drugged them, then hung them from the basement ceiling by their feet. From there, they methodically cut them apart and gutted them. They laughed when they heard their screams. It took them hours, but they eventually had their bodies scattered all over the basement.
It wasn’t enough to just kill them, Jason wanted to eat them as well. He and his brother consumed their parents' flesh and organs with animal ferocity. Blood streaking their chins, organs glistening under the fluorescent lights, it was their final revenge on the abusive couple.
When they were finished, Glenn pulled Jason closer, their mouths meeting in a kiss that tasted of bile and blood. They fucked each other for hours on the floor, rolling around in blood and viscera. They took turns on each other, though Glenn spent more time fucking Jason. It was hard, rough and passionate, some of the best sex the brothers had ever had.
Finally, they doused the basement with gasoline and burned the house to the ground. With no way to identify the remains, it was assumed that Glenn and Jason died along with their parents.
Glenn and Jason who, after moving far away from where they grew up, began to kill for fun. Not long after, they would meet Ethan and Glenn would grow fond of him. When he learns what a vicious, deranged killer the shy and quiet boy was, Glenn fell hard for the boy and he became a part of the family.
He wouldn’t dare say anything to his brother, but Jason was slightly jealous of Ethan. He actually liked the boy and they worked well as a team, he even fucked the submissive boy often, but he still wasn’t keen on sharing his brother. Glenn told Jason he could find his own boy, but Glenn was extremely untrustworthy of the boys Jason brought around. Most boys never made it to finding out what Jason did, but the first two who did, Glenn didn’t like or trust. He killed both of them, having Ethan butcher one of them for future meals. This pissed Jason off and his happy demeanor was dampened for a while until he stumbled on Wyatt.
Wyatt was a perfect fit for the family and now Glenn had a group of twisted killers that he hoped would commit many a murder together. It helped that Wyatt was filthy rich and had connections. In fact, it was Wyatt who found their first paying client. That one client turned into a depraved little business where they were hired by sick and deranged wealthy people to creatively kill themselves or others. It became a successful, but dark underground organization that Glenn runs. People who happen to get in their way or cause trouble for them are never seen again.
The boys got along quite well and the sexual dynamic between them was powerful. Glenn was the alpha of the group and Wyatt the beta. Jason and Ethan were the omegas, though Ethan was the only true submissive of the group.
***
Glenn was a tall, mildly imposing figure with cold, calculating green eyes. He and his younger brother Jason shared the same hair, eyes and freckled faces but the similarities ended there. While Jason was short and muscular, Glenn was 6’2” tall and thin, though toned. Jason was generally cheerful, playful, very athletic and not that bright. Glenn was brooding, dark and very intelligent. He was sitting in his chair at their house, a spacious, modern home tucked away in the woods on the outskirts of Oklahoma City. It was surrounded by acres of land providing them a nicely secluded base of operations.
“You’ve done well boys.” Glenn said on the screen. “I’m especially proud of you Ethan. That set up was flawless. Wyatt, you never cease to amaze me with your connections. Jason, your magical drugs helped make it all come together perfectly.” Glenn wasn’t always this complimentary, but they made a huge amount of money, which put him in a good mood. He’d actually softened up over the years, mainly due to Ethan. “We are a killer team.” Everyone groaned. “As soon as the client wires payment, we need to send the videos, so get to work Ethan. That needs to be edited by tomorrow at seven am.”
“Guess I will be up all night. Thank you, Master. I am excited to finish this project for you.” Ethan loved what he did and was always happy to please Glenn. “Will we get to spend some time together before I get to work?”
“Of course, we will.” Glenn smiled. “And you boys, we’ve got a few new jobs coming up. We’re going to be busy.”
Jason perked up, eager to please his brother. "Anything exciting? I’m ready to get right back out there."
Glenn leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers as he contemplated his next words. "We have three new jobs coming up. Then there’s one we will need to discuss in detail is probably our biggest job yet. The clients are... particular, with very refined tastes. They have commissioned something... artistic. A one-of-a-kind installation for their private gallery."
The three of them exchanged an excited glance. They had been involved in many depraved acts, but this request sounded like something completely different. The mere thought of what they were about to hear made them eager with anticipation and maybe a little nervous.
"They want... a human sculpture," Glenn continued. “And it’s in Russia.”