Usually, I approach him. I enter his space. I give him an excuse to focus on me. He has none now, and he’s stuck. So I, half savior, half tormentor, crook my finger at him—and he comes to me.
God, he’s such a good boy. Such a beautiful, obedient boy.
My dick throbs as he approaches. See, this is why I need my role to play. Because what I want is to spread my legs and point between my feet. What I want is to grab his hair as he kneels before me. What Iwantis to make him suck me here and now.
But I’m the hunter, the stalker, the demon, and I cannot reveal myself. It would spoil the game.
So I hold myself still as Elias approaches. He’s like a fucking ballet dancer, practically floating my way. I point to the chair across from me.
I’m hyperalert as he sits. I hungrily consume every detail: his slight shudder, the way he rocks forward, his slow blink.
He’s wearing a black t-shirt today. I like it. I feel like I’ve put my mark on him already.
He doesn’t say anything. His awkwardness is gone. He’s been stripped down to only himself.
It pisses me off, however, that the guy in the deli is still staring.I’vedone this, not him. This Elias, the real Elias, is mine.
“You’ve been working hard,” I observe. He’s sweaty and not just because of his arousal.
“We were unloading boxes,” he tells me, which I don’t like because who iswe? But I can’t ask him that, not in this role.
Instead I ask, “Do you like your job? It seems a little … unfulfilling. For someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
He says that like he doesn’t realize how smart he is, how creative. But I’ve read so many submissions to ForbiddenX and none were written like his. Precise, articulate, outside the box.
I can’t say any of that, of course, so I say nothing. It floats away. Elias can’t focus right now.
I wish I could bend him over this table, bare his ass, and see that plug. I wish I could pull it from him and give him my cock instead. He needs it.
Soon, baby, soon.
I don’t know why I’m calling him that in my head. It’s wrong. It’s an unwanted twist on his role, and on mine. It confuses me. Upsets me.
I need to leave.
I get up from the table. Elias’s eyes linger on my groin, but my compression shorts keep my hard dick from showing. My control keeps my face from giving anything away. I have to be in the shadows. Only Elias is in the spotlight. That’s what he asked for. To be seen. To be hunted. To be, I think, coveted.
Does he know that he’s accomplished it all? Does he know how dangerous that is?
“I have to get back to work,” I tell him.
“Okay,” he replies. His voice is breathy.
“Be careful,” I tell him sharply. He’stooopen now.
His attention gathers. He’s trying to see me clearly, to understand, but there’s no way he could ever understand me. He’s too innocent.
Or is he? It was a dark, dark fantasy that he submitted.
He blinks lazily. I want to grab his hair, his jaw, his throat. But all I can do is demand, “Say yes.”
“Yes,” he says, but it doesn’t soothe me. It’s too immediate, too thoughtless. Would he say yes to anybody?
I’m not being fair, I know that.I’vedone this to him, and now I’m upset about it. I don’t even know why. I think it’s that guy at the deli, watching. Or maybe it’s Elias’s obliviousness. At first, I loved that, but now I’m annoyed.
I’m being unreasonable, illogical. I’m pushing the boundaries of my role, ofallmy roles. I really need to leave.
