CARLOS
Carlos Rivera set up the camcorder in front of his bed, took a deep and final breath and then turned it on. Slowly, he walked in front of it, took off his clothes and dropped to his knees. His chest heaved with nervous breaths and twice, he decided to throw the whole thing to hell and turn the fucking camera off.
He needed money, and his parents had a lot of it. But he would have rather first died before he asked for their help. He did not want to think about that--them now.
Lying on his back, he pressed his thighs to his chest, and ran a finger along his ass crack. His whole body shook with remorse, but that wasn't going to pay the bills.
Nothing too graphic, just show off a bit of your body. He reminded himself, standing up, rolling his hips and getting on the bed.
His cock was fully hard now and he pumped it a few times, precome oozing onto his pelvis. He flexed and kissed his biceps, stroked his thighs and fingered his abs, because he did not know what the fuck else to do.
He wanted to say something before he turned it off, but he decided against it. He licked his lips, ran a hand through his hair and then turned off the camcorder. His phone rang as he put his clothes back on.
"Yes?" He said cooly, staring at his reflection in the mirror.
"Sure, I know where that is. I'll be there in about, a half hour?" He tried to keep the excitement out of his voice--he did not want to seem desperate. Sitting down, he turned on his computer, edited the video and copied it to a CD.
When he had tucked the CD safely between his shirt and jacket, he pulled his cap low over his eyes, shoved his hands into his pockets and jogged out of his apartment building, into the cool October evening.
*
He got to the restaurant before whoever he was supposed to meet, chose a table by the window and passed the time playing a video game on his phone.
He was so preoccupied he didn't realize that the man had arrived, until he cleared his throat.
"You have what I asked for?" He asked, and Carlos nodded. He unzipped his jacket and slid the CD across the table to his host.
"I'll tell you when and where you can get your money." He said flatly, stood up and straightened his suit jacket.
"Look, sir, I can't wait. You said I give you the video, I get my money." He could hear the panic in his voice and he looked wildly around the restaurant to see if he was drawing any attention to them.
"I'll tell you when and where you can collect your money." The man said in the same uninterested tone, slid the CD into his jacket pocket and walked away.
Tears blurred Carlos' vision. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he checked it. It was private message on his Onlyfans from a new client; some guy called Mark. He wasn't in the mood, but he was paying very handsomely.
He texted back his address and conditions, paid for his coffee and left.
The doorbell rang just as he got out of the shower, and he answered it in his bathrobe. It was a young man, about his age, dressed in all black and wearing goth makeup. Carlos smiled, teasing at the ties of his robe and cleared his throat.
"Mark, correct?" He asked, and the man nodded.
"Come on in." He said, holding his hand and gently pulling him in. He just wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
"Can I offer you something? Water, so--"
"Where's the bedroom? And why are we still talking? You read my message, didn't you?"
Carlos motioned with his head, undoing the knot and letting the robe slide off his shoulders. He closed the distance between them, his palms cupping Mark's ass.
"I want to be inside your gorgeous ass so bad, Mark." he whispered with a smirk, softly biting on the tattoos on the young man's neck.
Slowly, he pulled Mark's shirt over his head, sliding his palms over Mark's skin. Mark leaned into him, stepping out of his jeans, his erection on Carlos' stomach.
"Oh please just strike me. Spank me, hit me all over and fuck my brains out with no restraint!" Mark said tightly, digging his short nails into Carlos' back.
He got on his hands and knees on the couch, but Carlos grabbed his hand and took him to the bedroom. He threw him onto the bed, sheathed his cock and without waiting, slid into Mark's hole.
"Fuuuck! You're so big in my ass!" Mark shuddered, closing his eyes. "Fucking hit me, you fucking moron!"
Suddenly, Carlos was furious. He was sick and tired of everyone pushing him around like he was...nothing. Without thinking, he slapped Mark, and a portion of the anger left him. He slapped him again, his thrusts becoming quicker and shorter.
"Yeah? You like when I slap you like that you cunt?" He snarled, strangling Mark.
Mark moaned and screamed louder as he was slapped a third and fourth time, his balls tightening. But Carlos' hand was too tight around his neck, and he could not breathe. He dug his nails into Carlos' arm, but that just earned him another slap.
Suddenly, he wasn't enjoying this anymore, and Carlos had lost control.
"Stop! Fucking stop you sadist!" Mark choked, kicking his legs wildly in the air. But Carlos just laughed, his own orgasm building up, adrenaline coursing through his blood.
"Uuuhhh! I'm coming, I'm going to fucking come! Aaaah!" He screamed as he filled the condom, collapsing on Mark's hot, sweaty and still body.
His sense came back as quickly as it had left him, and he started to panic.
"Oh god, no, no, no, no!" He panted, burying his face in his hands. Mark could not be fucking dead.
He could not call an ambulance; even if he wasn't dead, they would ask about why he had strangled Mark, and then he would be arrested. He searched YouTube, gave him CPR, put him in a bathtub filled with ice cold water, but nothing worked.
He started to sob with desperation, but thankfully Mark's chest started to rise and fall. Mark sputtered, coughed and opened his eyes, sitting up hurriedly in fear.
Carlos did not believe in God, but he turned his eyes up to the ceiling, laughed and whispered,
Thank you, God.
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