Catamite Pt. 14

Vitaly was braced against the heavy wooden table, buttocks separated by the intrusion of Maria’s mercifully slim arm. He was making deep, guttural noises , repetitive grunts that came out “..ut!…ut!…ut!”

Each wrist was clamped into a cuff and fixed to the opposite legs of the table, keeping Vitaly’s chest flat with the plastic covered wood. Maria’s shoulder drove her arm back and forth in a straight line, with the steady rhythm of a rock breaker.

The tawdry underpants were abandoned in a small heap on the floor, but Vitaly makeup had been refreshed, more pink and red with the subtlety and detail of a four year old’s colouring book. Phillip knew, from observation, that Maria’s hand was clenched into a fist and that minimal amounts of lubrication had allowed her to wiggle first two fingers, then her pointed hand up to her knuckles, and finally her clenched grip.

Phillip had no point of reference to tie her activities to. When he had been arrested, maybe eight months past, as close as he could count, there had been the perfunctory cavity search from a jail guard who’d been processing too many prisoners to make it personalized or arduous, especially not in the face of the eager special unit officer waiting to try to make Phillip share the names of everyone he’d talked to or made eye contact with for the past decade. Vitaly, if that was even the man’s real name, opened up in a way Phillip had never thought possible.

There were the ever present body guards, green vested with the theme of the house livery and big and bulky as upholstered refrigerators, but for Phillip the focus of his worries was the picana waiting on the table’s edge and what waited in the next few hours. He was dressed again, and allowed a chair and freedom to talk all he wanted. For the time being Maria seemed to prefer him as an audience.

“Would you like to fuck his face?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He likes it,” Maria’s unoccupied hand took a squeezing grip on the skin of Vitaly’s back and twisted, making the man yelp. “He’s getting to be the slut he always knew he was.”

There was an obsessive, balled up hate in Maria that was missing in the other women. Her smiles were sneers, her shoulders hunched up protectively and her frowns contained a hint of hysteria in the way her mouth pursed.

“No, thank you,”

“Suit yourself.” Maria’s hand flexed inside Vitaly and drew all the way out, leaving his orifice yawning, still wider than Phillip thought possible. Her arm was gloved to just before the elbow, in ugly pink rubber like a servant’s work gear. Before Vitaly could close up again, Maria rammed her fist back in and resumed the back and forth sawing, alternating pulling her hand all the way out and ramming it in until she almost buried the full length of the glove. “She said you had no tendencies towards the male sex.”

“No, Miss Decovics.” Sodomy, though strictly banned by the state, had never occurred to him as an avenue of rebellion. It was the punch line to joking accusations of too much male closeness, in the army or in the government, but it never held an appeal such that he understood its operation.

“Your eyes are so big, they open up like Vitaly’s ass when you look at me. I wonder how you’d handle being bent over the table. Would you beg and talk, or would you just howl and grunt like this worthless smear?” She punctuated her insult with a particularly hard jolt. “He used to babble in a non-stop train of begging and silly demands, but we’ve broken him of that habit. Isn’t that right Vitaly?”

“Yes!” The answer came out as a grunt, timed to a particularly vicious jab from Maria.

“Yes, what? You worthless piece of shit!”

Profanity out of the mouth of a young woman, just as incongruous to her status as what she was doing. Women her age should have nothing more serious to weep over than how much lace was on their come-out gown, and to giggle with confused delight when someone male entered their protected orbit. Phillip was quite sure his two cousins, just about the age to be let into the company of adults, didn’t even know a word viler than ‘bother’ or ‘drat’.

Now the girl was peeling off her gloves, leaving her stretched victim bound, with his breathing coming in slow pants, and a raw pink looseness to his ass that was only gradually correcting itself. Maria scooped up the picana and then unceremoniously draped herself over Phillip’s lap, holding the prongs to the underside of his chin.

Though he could have thrown the slight woman across the room, even in his weakened state, he let Maria sprawl on him and kept his elbows on the arms of the chair.

Annette had told him to act at a gentleman, when she’d left him, but beyond this freedom there were no clear guidelines to help him govern his reaction. He tensed, wanting to buck Maria off, but knowing the consequences would be almost unthinkably unpleasant.

“Tell me about yourself, Adam,” Maria said, traces of girlish coyness overlaying her threatening tone. “Adam, what sort of creature are you?”

“I was raised as a gentleman.”

“So was he, the upstart cad.” Maria used the picana to gesture in Vitaly’s direction, “So what are you?”

“I don’t know how to answer that question,” Phillip said, honestly. “I am what Lady Harrington lets me be.”

Maria slithered out of his lap, grimacing. “Get up.”

“Yes, Miss Decovics.” Some sort of pain was imminent, predictable as storm weather after a pressure change. He let himself relax, closing his eyes and waiting to see if she would hit him or if it would be a shock.

The prongs of the picana touched his stomach, doubling him over with a scream.

“Stupid,” Maria’s face was all scrunched up like she’d uncovered something vile. The prod came in contact with him a second time, just as he’d sucked in another breath of air. “Adam.”

She touched his thigh, for the third strike, generating another convulsive response. Curled on the floor, he found his words through a chest that had gone all tight: “Is this just pain or did I say something wrong?”

“What you did wrong was…” She pressed the prod back against his leg, high up on the thigh near the buttock and held it there while she looked for the right words.

The noise he made was a long, stretched series of vowels, no word in any language but understood by any social animal.

“The batteries on this last forever.” Maria reassured him. “I’m told that the sensation ends up feeling like your muscle is trying to pull itself apart. Would you say that’s about right?”

He curled into a ball, feeling the bite and the burn.

“Augh-haaaugh-weeeee?” She echoed. “That’s a yes, then? Vitya, he just swears. I had to have him tell me what the words meant.”

“Please, did I…?” Phillip started to uncurl, and then thinking better of it, coiled back up even more tightly.

“Are you bad?”


“You come in two kinds, the kind being punished and the kind that come into this because it’s their own idea. Pitor, Puppy, they both begged for this. Chloe… you haven’t met Chloe, her boys she likes to fix them. They come from trash.”

Maria had pointed the picana back at the floor so Phillip took it as a cue that he could gather himself up back to his knees. “I wish I understood what you were saying. I’m sorry.”

“Lady Harrington said she picked you out. Did you make her mad?”

“I only knew Lady Harrington in passing.” Phillip gingerly touched his leg, aware there would be a livid pink splotch on his skin beneath the fabric of his pants where the current had cooked his flesh. “I had not spoken to her. Her mother was friends with my mother, but my mother died years ago.”

Maria sat down in the chair he’d been occupying. “Is this because you’re a project, or are you doing this because you begged?”

“I never asked for this.”

“Well, you don’t get an erection like Pitor. But I swear Pitor would shock himself if there wasn’t someone to do it for him.” Maria rolled her eyes. “Vitya is a danger to the less fortunate. But I think you could say the same for all men, if someone isn’t there to hit you on the nose when you make a mess.”

“I do not know why my Lady… Lady Harrington has decided to do this to me. She said I was her companion.” The subject of his treason charge came up in his mind, but whatever else Annette did, that was a subject she never touched on. “She did not have an interest in why I was arrested.”

“She says she lets you make love to her.” There was the debutante’s innocent curiosity again. “I don’t intend to let Vitya touch me after we’re married. Never again, he would slip back into his ways. But you don’t seem to be a vessel of lust. So, what’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know.”

A brush from the picana against the back of his knee dropped him. “I guess that leaves punishing you for your little slip.”

Maria kept the prod on a low setting, hitting different spots on his body for three second long jolts. “A rule is a rule. When you are told not to utter a word, blasphemy is not an acceptable method of expression.”

“Please!” he panted in a gulp of air, only to expel it again with more screams. “I’m sorry!”

“I can see that.” Maria’s sneer was out in full, an ugly expression that removed the demure sweetness from her face. “Useless idiot.”

She made him lie flat on his back, legs slightly parted, holding the picana over his crotch but not pressing down. “Now, do I fry your groin or not?”

“Please don’t.” Phillip shook his head. “Please, please. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry. Please!”

“Then get up, and come over here,” Maria down squatted and grabbed his shirt front, pulling him by the lapels. “I want to show Vitya something.”

Vitally was still strapped over the table, positioned so that he had only heard the exchange. At the mention of his name the man shifted his head a little.

“Here,” Maria handed the picana off to one of the body guards. “You help too.”

She directed Phillip to stand a few feet away from Vitaly, so the bound man could see them both. The guard had taken position behind Vitaly, still holding the prod.

“Vitya,” Maria said softly. “Pay attention to Adam.”

Vitaly nodded. “Yes, Miss Decovics.”

“Adam is what you should be. Adam is a gentleman. Not some bestial creature, jumped up on his father’s money and voraciously fucking any girl who listens to the nice things about true love he talks about and believes them,” the bitterness was thick in Maria’s voice. “Oh, I’d forgive you, Vitya but you were a disaster for Jane Small, Marya Brown and Hana Spradock.”

Without much to comment, Phillip shifted a bit on the spot, feeling the cramps and the rasp of his clothes on the singed parts of his skin.

“Adam, would you seduce your friends’ servants, and leave them to be fired when they turned up pregnant?”

“No, Miss Decovics.”

“Or chase after the daughters of tradesmen, who didn’t have doctors to cover up their mistakes? Or tell your friends about the fun you’d had between this woman’s legs, or with that woman’s mouth, all while she thought she was bound for marriage?”

Phillip shook his head. Respectable men only visited prostitutes, who had no reputation to ruin. But Maria didn’t seem particularly interested in his responses.

“You see, Vitya, I’ve made a choice. You aren’t going to touch a woman ever again. When the time comes to claim our sham of a marriage is consummated I’m going to use doctors. No woman will ever touch you with love, ever again.”

Vitaly took the information without much in the way of a reaction.

“And after we have the requisite two babies, I’m going to have you sterilized by that nice doctor that Lady Harrington used, just in case. You’ll be my good little husband, and if you behave I will let you help me pick out the man who will entertain me.”

When the body guard took this is a cue to touch the picana to Vitaly, even Phillip winced. The shocks went on and on, causing Vitaly to thrash and bang against the table, drooling and screaming.

The chiming sound interrupted them.

“Oh fiddle!” Maria swore delicately. “I completely forgot I was going to call Clara this afternoon.”

Vitaly said something incomprehensible, whimpering softly.

“She’s my friend, you know, from school. And she’s just accepted Mr. Hallow-Dugen’s offer of marriage.” The sweet debutante resurfaced, replacing the older, uglier grin that had came with her sadism. “I suppose I’d better leave you here, for Lady Harrington to fetch when she gets back. Ta-ta!”

And Maria was gone in a clumsy flutter of skirts, upstairs to some private quarter of the house at the fastest speed her twisted ankle let her limp.


Go on, say what you think!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.