"J.T. - It's Not Easy Doing Greene, Part 5
By: Cathy and Melissa
Last night, as he had gone out with Walter and Fox, Carter found himself unable to shake his feeling of trepidation. Things had been fine their first night. The two men had greeted him pleasantly, asked him his name, and then told him what they wanted: for him to watch while Walter fucked Fox, and for J.T. to spank him. This was preceded by a game of good cop, bad cop, with Walter and J.T. as the interrogators, and Fox as the prisoner. J.T. watched dispassionately as the other two men grew increasingly aroused, and felt strangely distant from the situation.
Last night had been completely different. They'd wanted to go to a gay bar -- they picked the place -- and had passed him back and forth like a toy. They hadn't addressed him directly, except to give instructions: Grab his ass. Suck my finger. It was like they were two different people, and he no longer knew what to expect.
He had realized early on that they were doing a different type of role play, letting Fox be in charge, but it was getting a little out of hand because of the amount they were drinking. Finally, they'd taken him back to their hotel room, and the scenario had been, as expected, different than the previous night. Walter watched while Fox "punished" J.T. for his false accusations. This time, it was more than spanking -- there were clips, a paddle, cuffs, wax.
Fox had provided him with a safeword, but J.T. refused to use it. Was it to prove to himself that he was strong - could withstand whatever they could dish out? He did withstand it, just barely. As he struggled against his bonds, Billy's warning ran through his mind, taunting him. "Please don't let them rape me," he prayed. And miraculously, his prayer was answered. Finally, finally, it was over, and pain had replaced the usual numbness, as elation had replaced it when he was with Mark.
When J.T. arrived at Roger's, he was greeted by concern. Walter had called to apologize to Roger in advance for getting carried away, so Roger insisted on more than his usual cursory post-SM physical examination. After seeing the evidence of injury, he'd hit the roof, and had banned Walter and Fox immediately from any further interaction with his "boys". J.T. was ambivalent about that, but not as disappointed as he would have expected to have been. He'd come to prefer the type of attention he got from Mark.
This train of thought was getting him nowhere. He had a job to concentrate on - Carter's job, his real job - and thinking about J.T.'s exploits made that difficult. He stifled a yawn, then looked back down at the chart. Easy enough case, he thought. He jumped slightly as a hand smacked him hard in the middle of his back. Damn, but that hurt.
"Hey, watch it," he angrily said.
"Sorry."
Carter turned around and saw that it had been Mark who had smacked him. Before he could say anything else though, he had to yawn once more.
Mark noted how tired Carter appeared. He supposed that if a person had to satisfy two people in one night, then they would be pretty wiped out early the next morning. He wondered if Carter would even admit that he had been out working late. A part of him wanted to tell him that he saw him in the bar, but there was another part of him that wanted Carter to tell him he had been out and had ended up having a miserable time.
"I called you yesterday to see if you wanted to catch that new spy movie, but you weren't home."
"When did you call?"
"About five thirty or six."
Carter nodded. "Yeah, I had gone out by then. I was home until five. You should have called earlier."
"I would have, but I was out with Loretta and..."
"Can I get some help over here?" a blood covered woman asked as she limped into the e.r., carrying an equally bloody child in her arms. What Mark was going to say was no longer important as they all rushed forward to help the woman and the child.
Hours after the trauma, Carter was filling out his charts from the morning and trying to not think about the fact that Mark had been out yesterday with a woman. He had never heard Mark talk about seeing anyone named Loretta. The only Loretta he had ever seen Mark near was Loretta Sweet, a former prostitute that had been one of his patients. Carter knew that Mark had watched Loretta's kids when she had cervical cancer and needed to be in the hospital for surgery. But, he didn't think that Mark was dating her. He didn't think that Mark was dating any women. He angrily kicked the leg of the chair, upset with himself for caring that Mark had been out in the first place. He was so caught up with his anger that he didn't hear the door open and close. He didn't know that he wasn't alone until Mark was suddenly standing there in front of him.
Carter got to his feet, waiting for Mark to say something. Anything. The only thing that happened was that Mark began to walk toward him and didn't stop until he had him backed into a corner. Then he spoke, asking him his name. Confused, Carter had replied, "John" and Mark had grinned. "That's what I thought," he said. The next thing Carter knew, Mark was kissing him on the lips. God, that had been nice. He had closed his eyes and savored that kiss, the firmness of Mark's lips on his own, the way that Mark pressed his body against his as he deepened the kiss. Then he realized what was going on and he tried to push Mark away. Mark had broken off the kiss, but only long enough to say "I'm not stopping. You aren't J.T." Then he had ravished Carter's mouth again, demanding a response. And Carter had responded. His heart rate had increased, his breathing had become rapid and as a heat rose up his body, he had parted his lips for Mark, wanting to taste him. Mark never hesitated to enter his mouth and once his tongue was in, Carter had sucked it as hungrily as he had sucked Mark's cock each night they had spent together. He felt Mark's hand cup his ass and pull him upward and closer. Through their clothing, Carter could feel Mark's erection pushing against his own. Carter heard a faint whimper and then realized it was his own voice.
And then there was nothing. Carter opened his eyes and saw Mark standing still, simply staring at him, a slight smile on his face. Without a word, Mark turned around and left the room. And in good time too, because Lydia came in shortly after that. If she noticed that Carter was still in a daze, that his lips were still full as a result of being ravished, that his skin was flushed, and that he was aroused, she didn't say anything. At least not to him.
He quickly gathered his charts, then sought sanctuary in the lounge. Luckily for him, Mark was busy for the next hour and he was able to get caught up. Then all Hell broke loose when a multiple car accident flooded them with victims. It was so bad that Carter found himself having to change into scrubs.
He was standing in front of his locker, pulling the green top over his head when he heard a sharp intake of breath. He yanked the hem down, then turned around to see Mark standing there, his face a little pale.
"Are you okay?" he asked him.
Mark slowly nodded. "Yeah. I didn't mean to scare you."
"That's okay. You'd think that by now I'd be used to having people walk in on me when I'm changing in here." He closed his locker and walked across to the coffee machine. "Want some?"
"No. I was just coming in here to find a quiet place to sit for a while," Mark lied. He had been looking for Carter, wanting to see if he could maybe get another kiss. But, that idea was now shoved aside for the moment. He was still too shocked by what he had seen when Carter was pulling on his shirt. Mark knew he had not gotten a good look, but he would have sworn that he had seen some vivid red marks on Carter's chest, and he definitely had seen what appeared to be burns on his back. No wonder he had snapped his head off when he smacked him in the middle of his back earlier. Those burns had to hurt like Hell. No sense trying to get him to talk about it now, he thought. Carter would never admit to anything that happened to him as J.T., even if it was something that got him hurt. He would just have to wait until tonight.
He sat quietly and watched Carter yawn again as he tried to drink his coffee. The e.r. had been extra busy today, and Mark knew that Carter had to be dead on his feet.
"Why don't you go grab a nap?" he suggested.
"In the middle of the day? I don't think that would go over so well with everyone else."
"You're dead on your feet, Carter, and you could use the sleep."
"I'll survive. I promise that I'll get a good night's sleep tonight, okay?"
"And just how do you propose to do that?" Mark asked.
"Simple, I'll go to bed as soon as I get home." Carter said it in such a matter of fact manner that at first Mark thought he was really pulling his leg. Then he realized that Carter either didn't know or didn't remember that he was working tonight.
"Well, I would suggest that you check your schedule before you go making plans like that," Mark softly said.
Carter's eyes got wide as he realized that he had forgotten about the fact that he had an appointment with Mark at seven. After what had happened last night, he didn't want Mark to see him tonight. But, there was no way to get out of it. Unless Mark was willing to reschedule for another night. He could ask him. But, asking him now meant that he would have to acknowledge what they did when he was working as J.T. He was trapped. Shit. He would call Roger and let him handle it, that's what he would do.
"Excuse me." Carter put down his coffee cup, then headed out of the lounge and to the pay phones. Roger seemed to listen patiently as he explained how tired he was and how busy it had been at work. Would Roger check to see if the customer would reschedule for another night because he really didn't think he could do his best tonight? He held his breath as he waited for Roger to answer him. As the silence stretched on, Carter reminded Roger that he had been off last night and worked as a favor to him, so he was due some consideration in return. Roger finally agreed and Carter was able to get back to work with one less worry. He was pretty certain that Mark would agree to reschedule. Hell, he had remarked on how tired he was and he would want him to get some decent rest, right?
It wasn't much longer when Carter found out how wrong he had been. He was trying to concentrate on the x-ray in front of him when Mark entered the x-ray room and came to stand beside him. To anyone glancing into the room, it would appear as if they were consulting on the x-ray. They would have been surprised to overhear the conversation though.
"I just got off the phone with Roger. If you didn't want to keep our appointment for tonight, then you should have said something to me."
"What are you talking about? I already told you that I plan to leave here and go straight home to bed." Carter kept his eyes on the x-ray.
Mark was about ready to grab Carter by the shoulders and shake him hard. He had not believed it when Roger had called him here at work -- at work -- just how in the Hell did that man know where he worked? -- and asked him to reschedule. Mark had asked why and Roger had admitted that it was at J.T.'s request. That had really pissed him off and he had told Roger that he had no intention of rescheduling, that he expected J.T. to arrive on time and be prepared to work a full four hours. Roger had not argued the point. Mark had hung up, then stormed out of the lounge in search of Carter. How could he stand there and continually deny that they were having a sexual relationship? True, in Carter's eyes it was a relationship between a customer and himself, but the way he had responded to his kiss earlier let Mark know that Carter's feelings didn't turn off the minute he left his apartment.
"Well, I think you can forget about going straight home and going to bed tonight. Oh, you'll be going to bed -- but, it sure as Hell won't be at home. I expect to see you on my doorstep at seven on the dot and I have no intention of allowing you to leave one second before eleven, is that clear?"
"I don't know..."
"Cut the crap, Carter. Just be there." Mark paused at the door. "And by the way, I don't want your pimp calling me here at work, is that understood?" Without giving Carter time to reply, he left the room, feeling too angry to be around anyone. He did not want to take the anger he was feeling for Carter out on anyone else.
It was a little bit before seven when Carter arrived at Mark's place. He stood in the hallway, wondering if he should be a smartass and not knock on the door until it was exactly seven. It would serve Mark right, he thought, after the way he was acting all day. He could still feel Mark's lips upon his own and he wondered if Mark was going to try to kiss him again tonight.
The Hell with being a smartass, he muttered as he pounded on the door. It was quickly opened and Carter wondered if Mark had been waiting by it, waiting for him.
"Come on in." Mark stood aside to let him into the living room, then closed and locked the door. "You're early."
"I didn't want to risk being late, you were pretty adamant about that."
Mark grinned. Carter was actually acknowledging that they had had a conversation about tonight while they had been at work. It was a start, he noted.
"I spoke to Roger and he said he won't call you at work again."
"Good. Now, go to the bedroom and take your clothes off."
"Just like that?" Carter seemed surprised.
"Just like that. I told you that I'd have you in bed early and I meant it. Take your clothes off and get into bed. I'll be right there."
Mark followed Carter as far as the kitchen, where he was able to watch him as he removed his clothing. Since Carter had his back to him, he couldn't see if there were any wounds on his chest, but Mark had to close his eyes and take a deep breath as Carter pulled his pants off and ugly welts on his thighs and ass were revealed -- and the burns. What in the Hell caused those? When Mark opened his eyes again, Carter was in the bed with the covers pulled up to his shoulders. Mark had to take a few minutes to calm himself before going in there. He didn't want to get into a fight with Carter, not tonight.
Finally calm, or at least as calm as he thought he was going to get, Mark went through the bedroom and into the bathroom, getting a tube of antibiotic cream. He wanted to make sure that Carter wasn't at risk from an infection of any kind due to his injuries. Returning to the bedroom, he stripped, then put the cream on the nightstand.
Looking down at the completely covered form in his bed, he asked, "Since when do you hide your body from me?" he asked.
"It's a little cold in here."
"It must just be you because I feel fine. Scoot over."
Carter moved to the other side of the bed as Mark lifted the covers and crawled into bed next to him. Then Mark flipped the covers back, exposing them both.
Carter shivered and looked away from Mark. He knew that Mark couldn't miss seeing the bruises and burns on his chest. If he would have had one or two more days, then they would be faded to the point where Mark wouldn't have noticed them. He never had before.
Mark tenderly touched the ugly red marks just above and below Carter's nipple. Definitely burns -- wax maybe? It also looked as if his skin had been pinched and there were identical marks around the other nipple. The bastards.
"I didn't do this Friday night," he softly said.
"It's nothing."
"Looks like it hurts. You were hurt." Mark waved his hand, indicating all of Carter's body. He didn't like seeing bruises and burns on his pale skin or the angry red welts on the back of his thighs and on his ass. "You were working last night." It wasn't a question and he knew that Carter wouldn't deny it.
"Yes."
"And this happened then." Again, it wasn't a question. That had to have been when it happened. When he was with one or both of those guys he had seen him with in the bar. Should he tell him he saw him there? Had they been his only customers for the night? Those were questions that Mark wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answers to.
"Yes. It was a part of the job, Mark. They didn't mean to hurt me like this. Just let it go, okay?" he responded with a quivering voice. He didn't want to think about all the things he had let Walter and Fox do with him last night. All he wanted was to make believe that Mark cared about him -- about Carter, and not J.T. -- make himself believe that and forget about everything else for a few hours. He gasped as he felt Mark place a soft kiss upon the first burn, then Mark continued to kiss all his wounds, turning him over so he could kiss the ones on his back and thighs. Then the warmth of Mark's lips disappeared and the next thing Carter felt was a coldness as Mark began to rub something onto his welts. Whatever it was, it soothed the burning skin, and he was grateful for that.
But those magic hands didn't stop. Mark continued to massage his aching body and for a brief moment, Carter found himself hoping that he would soon feel Mark's tongue upon him once again. He grew hard as he remembered the way that had felt and he knew the moan that filled the silence had come from his throat and not from Mark's. A voice in the back of his mind told him that it was his job to make love to Mark, not to just lay there while Mark made love to him. And to that, another voice replied, go away. I like this. Let me believe that he really is making love to me.
Mark could feel the change in Carter's body as his hands gently kneaded the undamaged areas of his back. Carter was now soft and pliant, ready for whatever Mark wanted. What he wanted was to bury his cock so deep inside of him that he could never get out -- wouldn't want to, either. But, that wasn't possible. Not yet. He was determined to wait until Carter asked him, even if it drove him crazy with want and need. In the meantime though, he would content himself with pleasing Carter. He began to run his tongue along the welts, licking the length of each one, ignoring the taste of the ointment -- he would apply more later and what little he had put on Carter already would not harm him if he licked it off. He began to tease Carter, letting his tongue get tantalizingly close to his tight opening, then heading in another direction. Carter was moaning from his frustration and Mark grinned as he noticed Carter's tight little ass raising higher and higher in the air, his body telling him what Carter wanted, even if Carter refused to put a voice to his needs.
Without warning, Mark descended, his tongue flitting over that spot and tickling the back of Carter's balls. Then he began to rim him in earnest. Just as he had the other night, Carter responded enthusiastically to the assault upon his body. Mark found himself wondering if those men had done this to Carter -- had they used their fingers with him? Drove him wild with desire even as they were hurting him? He squeezed his eyes shut against the images he was conjuring in his mind -- he couldn't think that way. Not now. Right now he had to believe that he was the only man who was allowed this liberty with Carter -- J.T. -- whoever he really was while he was in this bed.
Suddenly, using his mouth on this part of Carter's anatomy was not enough for Mark. He wanted Carter's cock in his mouth. Wanted his fingers buried inside of him as he made him come. He sat back and told Carter to roll over. Grabbing a condom, Mark got it ready, then settled himself between Carter's legs and began to lick the shaft of his cock.
"Mark," Carter softly said. Nothing more. Just his name. It was enough. Mark took the entire length into his mouth, working Carter's cock diligently. He knew that if he flicked his tongue here -- yes, just like this, that Carter would sigh. And if he ran his tongue in a circle around the tip in just this way, then Carter would moan. And if he worked his way down the length of his cock until he had all of Carter into his mouth and throat, then Carter would say his name again, and thrust his hips forward. That was when Mark would be able to make his move and sneak a finger inside of him.
"Mark! Oh, God..." Carter's voice was strained and his hands caressed the top of Mark's head as Mark worked him over with his mouth and his finger -- or was it fingers? He couldn't really tell -- whoa! It had been one finger. Now, it was two. Carter didn't know what he wanted the most -- to work his hips so that he was firmly impaled upon Mark or to work his hips so that he was even deeper into Mark's throat? Too many things to decide. He wanted it all. And he wanted it now.
Mark's fingers and mouth had found a vibrant chord deep inside of him and he was being played expertly. The music of desire filled his mind getting louder and louder until he could hear nothing else but that. Knew nothing else but the desire he felt for the man who was mercilessly playing upon his body.
"Mark!" He practically screamed his name as he came, the music shattering around him. He crashed to the earth, sated and elated. Just as always with Mark. He was dimly aware of Mark removing the condom from him and he wondered just when Mark had stopped and put it on him. He didn't remember it happening. He closed his eyes, figuring he had been too tired or too caught up in what Mark had been doing to know. Or to care. A part of him was almost disappointed that there had been a condom. He knew that he wanted to take Mark without one. He also knew the folly of that want. But, it didn't stop him from wanting to taste Mark. He stifled a yawn as Mark stretched out beside him, pulling the covers up and over them both. Mark kissed his neck then kissed his way up to his ear and sucked on his ear lobe for a moment.
"Go to sleep," Mark whispered in his ear, his breath tickling him. "The clock is set, so you don't have to try to stay awake. I'll make sure you're out of here in time to make your next appointment."
"I don't have any other appointments for tonight," Carter replied.
"Do you want me to reset the alarm then? For tomorrow morning?"
Oh, he wanted him to do just that. But, he knew he couldn't spend the night here with him. Not like this. Not as J.T. He shook his head. "I don't think that will be necessary."
"Suit yourself." Mark pulled away from the warm body long enough to cut off the light, then he snuggled next to Carter, molding his own body around Carter's and holding him so he would feel safe and secure. Somehow knowing that was what he needed right now.A few minutes later, he could hear a change in Carter's breathing and knew he was asleep. For now, Mark was content to just hold Carter while he slept.
A few hours later, Carter slipped out of bed, anxious because he didn't want to awaken Mark. But, he had to get up long enough to go to the bathroom. As he returned to the bed, his eyes landed upon the LCD readout of the clock. It was almost eleven. Almost time for him to leave. He looked down at Mark, sleeping so peacefully, then he looked back at the clock. His decision made, he reached out and disabled the alarm that Mark had set for eleven. Then he went to the living room and placed a quiet phone call to Roger, letting him know that things had gone fine with the customer. The minute he was back in bed, Mark was right beside him, his arms encircling him once more. A smile on his face, Carter snuggled back against Mark and fell back to sleep.
When Carter next woke up, it was nearly three in the morning. He no longer felt tired and knew that he wouldn't be getting very much sleep in the next few hours. With a grin, he thought of more than a few things he could do to fill that time. Last night, Mark had seen to his needs and neglected his own. Carter was determined to make that up to him. Scooting down in the bed, he softly stroked Mark's cock until it began to harden, then he took it into his mouth. By the time Mark was fully awake, he was also fully hard. He ran his hands through Carter's hair, then softly stroked his bare shoulders. He hadn't heard the alarm go off, but he wasn't going to complain about Carter's method of awaking him. Not one little bit would he complain. He glanced over at the clock, then found himself taking a good look at the time. It was close to three. Carter had not left him earlier. He had stayed. Mark grinned from that discovery. Did that mean he was with Carter now, or still with J.T.? It didn't matter -- the sensations Carter was creating, those were what mattered. He settled back to enjoy all that Carter was doing to him, and decided to leave any questions for later.
As it turned out, no questions were asked. Carter had used all his skills to bring Mark to a mind shattering orgasm that left him unable to offer more than a token protest when Carter finally began gathering his belongings to leave. Carter had merely pointed at the clock and reminded Mark that they were due at work in three hours.
"Besides," he'd said, "can you picture Jerry's face if I turned up in this outfit? I have to go home and change." He shrugged, smiled. "Decompress a little, even." He'd leaned over the bed to kiss Mark's cheek, but Mark had pulled him down to kiss him more fully. Carter had offered no objection, and agreeably delayed his departure by a few minutes.
Long after Carter had left him, Mark sat in his living room, thinking And smoking. He had thought he had won the battle against his addiction, but tonight he had found himself needing a cigarette. He was still shaken by what had happened to Carter at the hands of his customers. Carter had at least admitted that much to him. He had been with two men at the same time. Even though he had assured Mark that it wasn't a big deal, it was definitely a big deal to Mark. It was time that Carter quit. He sure as Hell didn't need to be out there selling his body. Letting strange men do things like that to him just because they had paid for him. He considered asking Carter to quit, but was sure that he wouldn't. So, he had to find someway to convince him that his second job had to come to an end. First of all, he was going to see if he could book Carter for a full night. That would eliminate any and all possibilities of Carter leaving him and going to another customer, just in case he couldn't convince him to quit right away. But, how was he going to convince him to quit? He had danced in public with a customer, letting the man put his hands all over him and he hadn't batted an eye. But, then again, that particular customer wasn't him. What would Carter do if he took out in public and treated him like he was a whore? He had never treated Carter the way those men were treating him last night. Never. In all honesty, he had ordered him to do some things, but he had never even thought about manhandling Carter in public. Could he even manage to do that to him? Would he be able to put him through that kind of humiliation? This was going to take some thought. A lot of thought.