Glancing at the TV as the weather report came on, I looked at the time. Just a little after nine at night.
Two weeks ago, by this time, men would no doubt be stomping down the stairs, pulling their belts loose as they went. I’d be stirring awake in the cage,keeping my back pressed to the cold metal bars hoping for some sort of relief but knowing none would come.
Then, I’d be spending most of the night until the sun was getting ready to peak over the horizon, being used and begging God to let them kill me.
As the men’s laughter rang in my head, I shifted, straightening my back.
I didn’t want to go back there. I didn’t like the pain; I didn’t like the derogatory words that they’d use. I’d take whatever Sir wanted as long as I got to stay here. I’d be the best I could be.
With that in mind, I shifted just a tiny bit again, feeling my muscles ache in my legs and back. And arms. Who knew dusting and laundry could hurt like this? But I’d gladly take this pain over the other any day.
“Tired?” Sir asked as yet another yawn made my mouth open, so wide tears blurred my vision for a moment.
“Yes. Sorry, Sir.” There was no point in lying.
“You don’t need to apologize. Your body is still healing.” Without saying more, he turned the TV off,then held out a hand for me to take. I did so, gritting my teeth as I stood. Blood rushed through my body, and I swayed. Maybe I had stayed kneeling too long.
“Good?”
I nodded after a moment when the dizziness passed.
“Shower, then bed.”
Couldn’t I just go to bed now? Why did I have to take another shower?
Instead of voicing the questions, Sir led me to the bathroom. There, he helped take off my clothes before taking off his own. When I tried to help, he pushed my hands away, and that alone told me just to let him do what he wanted.
His hands slowly stroked down my arms, starting from my shoulders, as we both stood there naked. I couldn’t help but wonder what he saw in me. I was bruised, spotted with ugly colors and blotches from hits that had never ended. Scars decorated parts of my body, all of which I couldn’t remember how each one appeared or from what. There were too many times, too many threats for me to behave, even when I was doing exactly what I was told.
Keeping my eyes pinned to Sir’s chest, I stood there as he looked over every part of me that he could see. I was nothing more than skin and bones.
After a moment, he must have either cleared away his thoughts and indecisions, or he figured out what he wanted as he turned me around and basically walked me to the toilet. There, like earlier, he held me close to his chest as he aimed my penis and pressed on my bladder. At least this time, my body knew what to do without much fighting and released the stream easily. Once done, Sir told me to get in the shower while he peed.
By the time the warm spray covered my head, soaking me, Sir was there, standing before me.
Without words, he took soap and washed one arm, then the other. The few times I had the nerve to do so, I looked at his face, seeing him in deep thought as his eyes followed the bar of soap. Once I was washed from head to toe, he turned to where he stood under the spray and put the soap bar in my hand.
“I need another showerhead in here,” he mused as I ran the soap around his body. As Sirtipped his head back, letting the water wash through his dark hair, I let all thoughts go from my mind. At least for the time being.
My hands had a mind of their own. I wasn’t sure if it was because I thought it wasn’t wise of me to push limits that were clearly there or if I was just testing the waters of what I once knew, but my hand that wasn’t holding the bar of soap gently touched Sir’s hip. Like I was holding him in place.
Quickly glancing at his face, he still had his eyes closed, letting me explore him in the small space. I dropped my eyes back to his cock, which wasn’t as soft as it had been minutes ago.
If Sir had been any of the other men who wanted me to clean them – not that there ever had been – I’d have knelt right there on the shower floor and taken his thing into my mouth. But Sir had been clear not to kneel more than once unless I had a pillow. I didn’t think a pillow would do well here, getting wet, so I kept standing.
Instead, with one last glance, I moved the soap to his cock. Well, it was more like around the base,letting his trimmed hair catch on the suds. Sir simply breathed, standing still as I moved the soap.
With my other hand, I gently cupped his hardening cock, feeling the weight of it against my palm. I expected Sir to tell me to stop or pull my hand away like before. Instead, he wrapped his hand around mine, squeezing my hand gently.
Even though this wasn’t the first time I’d held a cock, it felt like it was for some reason. It didn’t feel like all the times before.
Sir’s skin was soft, the hair too, as it tickled the outside of my hand. I kept a light hold on him, unsure all of a sudden about what to do.
“You don’t have to do anything.” Sir’s rough voice was quiet, yet it still surprised me. “I will never expect-“
His words got cut off as I moved my hand down his shaft, then back up. He wasn’t all that long, but he was thick and strong. And so warm against my palm.
As I moved my hand, Sir grunted. His hand was still wrapped gently against mine, giving meenough space and pressure that I could stop if I really wanted to.
