We Are Broken • Geetrick

9

"Hey, 'Trick, you okay?"

My eyes flutter up from my hands to see Pete in front of me, duster in hand, and a worried expression on his face.

"I'm okay, Sir."

It's been a month since Master Way first bought me. He barely talks to me anymore, doesn't even use me anymore. It's depressing. I'm so worthless, I can't even be used. The maids have broken the rule lots, though, and that makes me feel a little better. To be treated the way I should be.

Pete sighs and sits beside me at the table. Gerard is out again and so far today, Hayley's had me eat her out twice, Frank sent me to my knees, Ryan bent me over, and Brendon bent me over his leg. It's 2 o'clock now. I feel utterly used, and it's amazing.

Pete sighs and hugs me close, kissing my temple, "Please stop calling me Sir."

"I can't, Sir, it's against-"

Pete slaps me hard. I don't say a word, just slip out of my seat and fall to the floor on my knees.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

I hear him leave his chair and there's a solid minute of silence between us. Nothing at all. Absolutely nothing.

"Is that what you want? You want to be punished? And treated the way you feel you should be?" Pete asks quietly, "Is that why you poured salt on your wounds? Because you aren't being hurt enough here? You need to go through more pain because that's what you deserve?"

My eyes widen and I look up at him eagerly.

He shakes his head and begins undoing his jeans, "I can't fucking believe I'm doing this."

I open my mouth but he only pulls away the slightest, "If I fucking do this for you, you have to call me Pete and you have to promise not to self-harm. Do you understand?"

I nod quickly, "I understand, S-Pete."

"Good." Pete sighs and undoes the rest of his pants before pulling them down along with his underwear, blushing the slightest because he's soft. Completely fucking limp.

I look up at him, confused.

"I don't like doing this, Patrick. At all. I don't want to... I don't want to hurt you. But I can't let you hurt yourself and I know... all the about the fucking self-harm mindset or whatever. I want to help you, and I know this is the only way I can right now."

I lower my eyes, but nod, taking him into my mouth despite the fact he's soft.

It takes a few minutes but eventually I get him to full mast and that's when he finally grabs the back of my head and begins fucking my throat roughly. I think he's crying, but I honestly can't tell.

He just keeps fucking me with his cock until I can barely breathe and my vision goes dark around the edges. Only then does he let me up for a breath.

"Jesus Christ. I can't fucking do this." He breathes, tugging up his jeans and boxers and wiping away his tears before leaning down and pressing his lips to my forehead, "Why can't you just understand?"

I frown, "What do you mean, Pete?"

"You don't deserve any of this." Pete whispers, then stands back up, "You're dismissed."

I don't get up, though. Not until he's left the room.

What?