Chapter 11
The first slice was the worst. Not to say that the following were a walk in the park, but Alexander slowly became numb after a while. He could hear the general say, "This is because you are a whore." The carving taking place in between his shoulder blades. "This one is because you are a lying slut." The knife slowly ran over his left side. "Flip." And he did.
This went on for quite a while, until Alexander wasn't sure there was an unmarked place on him. He even had a thin cut running from brow to jaw. The end of the carving was marked when he was roughly entered, Washington grabbing his hips so hard Alex could already feel the bruises blooming under his skin. If he thought the general had been rough with him before, it was no comparison to what he experienced now. The sheer ferocity with which Washington thrust into him made it hard to breathe. After a few minutes the general slowed, leaning to the side and picking up a bottle that had been next to his bed.
"We wouldn't want these to get infected, now would we?"
"No, sir." He choked in response.
Tipping the bottle, Washington poured some of the contents on the cuts that littered the young man. What turned out to be alcohol burned over Alexander's skin, causing tremors to shake through his body as he held in a scream. Above him Hamilton could hear the pleased grunt that escaped the general, Alex's ass clamping around his cock as he tensed. Flipping him over, Washington repeated the procedure on Hamilton's back, this time unable to stop himself from resuming his assaulting thrusts as Alex convulsed around him. George gripped Hamilton's hips as he drove his cock into him, his nails gouging the already bruised skin, leaving deep angry welts behind. However, as Washington's hips moved impossibly faster, his hands transitioned to wrapping themselves around the secretary's throat. The large hands squeezed harder and harder as the general came closer to the edge, causing black to close in around the edges of Hamilton's vision. The last thing he felt was the large man shudder and shoot inside him, before his vision faded to black.
He awoke to a harsh slap to his face, gasping as he did so. Coughing violently, his hand shot to his throat, assessing the damage. Looking up, he saw George Washington looming over him with an odd look on his face. It was somewhere between anger and satisfaction, creating an odd combination. Alexander struggled to sit up, only to be pushed down by a foot on his chest. His breaths were coming out in wheezing rasps, burning his throat with every inhale and exhale. Everything hurt, and he was finding it extremely difficult to concentrate on anything else, his eyes watering as he looked up at the general.
"The others will hear that you have fallen ill and will remain in your tent until you regain your strength," George stated, tapping the side of his face. "And I trust you will never betray me again."
"Never, sir."