Why did I have to be the one to get picked up for thistwisted shit? I may not have been the best guy around, but I didn’t deserve this, either.
“You can let go of me now,” I finally said through gritted teeth when he didn’t release me. I tried to flex my fingers in the mitts, but they wouldn’t budge. It was nearly panic-inducing, but I didn’t want him to see me break down over the claustrophobic feeling. It was only my hands. What if he got into the serious shit and started with the leather masks and all?
I shuddered.
No, I wasn’t even going to think about that.
He held onto me a moment longer, and I was all too aware of his hands on my bare skin. I squirmed, and his grip tightened momentarily before he released me.
I put as much distance as possible between us, which wasn’t very much, still all too aware of the feeling of his erection pressing against my front. He might not be treating this like something overtly sexual yet, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. He was only getting started.
That thought was nearly enough to shatter what little resolve I had left. He kept fucking winning, and all I could do was surrender even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I wasn’t into this, my soft cock more than attesting to that fact, but it wouldn’t matter because he was.
I stared hard down at the ground, but I could see him shake his head out of the corner of my eye before he headed for the cell door. I may have called him a coward, but I wasn’t any better. One failed attempt, and I’d given up.
I tried to tell myself it was just for now, but the simple truth of it was that I was too tired to fight. I didn’t even knowhow that was possible, considering all I was doing was lying around and sleeping, but I was exhausted.
Maybe that was why I was exhausted.
That, and he’d kept me busy almost every waking hour with one humiliation after another. It was like he was trying to throw me off balance and keep me that way — and he probably was.
The sound of the key turning in the lock of the cell door was impossibly loud. I stood there with my mitted hands held out in front of me, my back just shy of pressing against the wall, and I watched him leave the cell.
I couldn’t even imagine what he’d come up with next because I wasn’t some perverted freak like he was, but I knew it was going to be even worse. How it was going to be worse, I really wasn’t sure, and thinking about it was only going to drive me insane.
Instead of leaving, though, he waited outside of the cell door, watching me.
“What?” I snapped. “Why are you watching me?” I shifted self-consciously, realizing entirely too much of my body was on display for him.
“Because I like what I see,” he replied.
I scowled. “Well, this ain’t for you,” I asserted.
He gave me a look, a brow drawing up. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take for you to realize you belong to me, but it’s going to be easier when you do.”
“For you,” I said.
“For both of us,” he said, using that mild tone of his that I hated so much. It almost made this sound reasonable, even though it was anything but.
“Oh, fuck off.”
“Getting mouthy again now that I’m on the other side of the bars,” he noted.
I stared at him, not liking where that train of thought might be going.
“I have different types of gags I’d love to try on you,” he went on. “Some of them will be more comfortable than others, but you’re not going to like them.”
What kind of stupid comment was that? Of course I wasn’t going to like the gags. I wasn’t into kink. I’d heard enough stories from my friends to know it wasn’t my thing. Gags and spanking and cock rings and all sorts of other shit could just stay far away from me.
While we were at it, the mitts could go too.
“You might want to get something to drink if you’re going to continue to run your mouth,” he said. “Because Iwillgag you, and you won’t even be able to tell me when you want to behave again…” He canted his head to the side. “Then again, I can always watch for you to get on all fours and present your ass to me since you wouldn’t be able to bark…”
I gaped at him. “Is there some sort of manual for this sort of thing?” I finally demanded after a moment of dumbstruck silence. “Where are you coming up with this shit?”
His smile was brittle, that terrible thing that drew his scarred face up and made it all too clear what kind of person he was by the outside alone. “Let’s just say I read a lot.”
“Don’t get out much?” I taunted, unable to help myself.
