This Little Game

Chapter 3 {2 of 2}

He quickly nodded to him, giving him as much consent as he could in their situation. He gave Tom another terrified look, but obliged with the instructions he was given. Bracing himself with the one hand he had left to balance, he resumed his thrusting, hitting him deeper than before.

Thomas gasped as he hit the end of his tunnel once more, but his own lubrication had made it at least a little less painful than before. He put on a brave face, taking his thrusts as George continued to ram into him at a quick pace.

“I believe I said fully, your excellency.” Benedict called to them.

George stopped for a moment, trying to adjust himself on top of him. Panting, he got a better grip on the boy's wrists. Looking down at him with sorrow, he continued thrusting even harder this time. His first impact drawing a little yelp from the boy beneath him.

He went off again, thrusting even faster. The friction was beginning to become intense, and he could feel the little coil within him beginning to tighten. His cock slid happily into his pussy, shaft rubbing against his soft ridges and head scraping against the little wall at the end of his tunnel.

Thomas started making noises again, but they were no longer noises of pleasure. George felt his orgasm begin to slip away as he realized Thomas was in pain once more. He realized as he was thrusting faster, that he was no longer providing him with his natural wetness. And the wetness that he’d gifted him before was quickly rubbing away with his rapid movements.

Feeling horrible that he was hurting him again, he tried desperately to make his thrusts more shallow.

“George.” Benedict went on, visibly glaring at the patriot. “I believe I gave you an order.”

George looked upwards to glare at the loyalist, but was instead distracted by something happening beyond the leader.

He noticed Charles making some awfully strange movements in his peripheral vision. Curiosity getting the best of him, he looked at the older, more experienced general. Becoming instantly nauseous when he realized what the man was doing.

Cornwallis was standing there, watching the two patriots with vicious intrigue, eyeing the boy beneath him in particular. He held his sword in his left hand. His pants were undone, and his massive cock was exposed in the air of the chamber. He ran his other meaty hand over it intensely, jerking off as he watched the helpless boy get forcefully penetrated.

George wanted to throw up, and had to forcefully swallow bile down his throat as he looked to the soldiers in the room, the ones in front of the cell doors, even the ones who had led him into the room, they were all doing the exact same thing as the eldest general.

They were all touching themselves.

Getting off on behalf of their torment. The only person in the room who wasn’t engaged in some kind of sexual act was Benedict, who continued to stare at them, hands behind his back. George’s mind wanted to go other places, like figure out exactly how long they’d been doing the action. Hell, they could’ve been doing it as far back as him hitting Tom with Benedict's belt. The thought made him sick.

But he had other things to worry about at the moment.

He lowered himself further onto Thomas, hoping to get a better angle within him and make it look like he was hitting him deeper than he actually was. The boy's cries of pain became louder and louder as he did so, hitting him harder but still refusing to go all the way in. By now, Tom's core had gone completely back to the way it felt when they’d begun. Fear gripping his body and keeping him from any compliance at the hands of Benedict.