Page 36 of Under His Heel

Punch him in the face and break his nose in at least three places, because fuck Parsons for giving him those protein bars. But saying that out loud would just prove Tracht right, so Alex kept quiet.

“Hmm. Your silence does speak volumes.” Tracht’s fingers danced up Alex’s neck and started massaging his scalp.

“I could.” Alex sometimes bought his girlfriends things because he knew it’d make them appreciative. He made sure to tell them they were good in bed and that they looked pretty. “I bet I could turn the charm up real high and Parsons will like, fall to his feet, ready to blow me.”

That got Tracht laughing for real. “Unlikely. I would like to see you try, though.”

Alex actually didn’t want anybody, let alone Parsons, blowing him right then, but he would put up with it just to prove Tracht wrong. “For real? I’ll do it.”

“Oh yes. This should be an interesting show.”

It felt like a trap. Tracht couldn’t really be okay with Alex sleeping with somebody else, not if he was so mad about the protein bars and the jerking off. “You’re not gonna punish me for it if I succeed?”

“I’m sure my word means nothing to you, but I promise, in the very, very unlikely chance you convince Mr. Parsons to fellate you, I will not consider it a punishable offense.”

Shouldn’t be too hard then. Alex was pretty sure he could do it. “What do I get if I win?”

“If you win?”

“It’s a bet, right? So I should get something if I win.”

“Are you sure? You have a very bad track record with gambling.”

No, that was—Nick was the one who sucked at gambling. And that was just at Cadmus, he’d been lucky before then. Alex had nothing to do with the gambling stuff.

“I want—” He didn’t actually know what he wanted, but it had to be something good.

Tracht chuckled. “How about: if you succeed, I shall allow you one day of rest. An entire day without catering to my whims.”

Yeah. That sounded really nice. Alex really, really wanted that. But… “What if I don’t win?”

“Alex, I assure you there is nothing I need to gamble out of you that I can’t get in some other manner. I will simply enjoy your failure for its own sake.”

Alex shook his head to dislodge Tracht and sat up—which was a mistake, because his ass did not like the texture of the couch against its welts. F– frick.

Tracht smiled at him like he knew what Alex had done to himself. “Very well. Let’s get your cock caged up again.”

“Wait! How is he supposed to blow me?” Alex stood, wincing at the soreness in his thighs.

“Oh, he isn’t. But you said you could get him willing to do it. So, you’ll have to get him to agree to fellate you, and then, I suppose, back out or explain the cage to him.” Tracht reached out and wrapped his hand around Alex’s cock. “This is for my use only.”

Alex whimpered at the touch, still too tender. He was almost glad that he was getting caged up again.

[Chapter 13]

The problem with the bet was that Alex actually didn’t want anything to do with Parsons, not after that stunt with the protein bars. It was probably a good thing that Parsons waited until Alex was exhausted from his workout to approach him, because if Alex had still been fresh he really would have attacked, damn the consequences.

“Hey,” Parsons said. “You didn’t show up for a few days.” A full week, really, between being locked in the cage and being too sore to even think about working out.

“None of your business,” Alex growled, and then remembered what Tracht said about ‘nice.’ “... Got busy.”

For some reason Parsons started smiling. “Yeah, the ship can be like that. Um—well, for me, anyway.”

Was Parsons imagining the shit Tracht had put Alex through? Was that what was giving him all that joy? But that wasn’t a ‘nice’ thought, and anyway, how would Parsons know what Tracht did with Alex?

The two of them stared at each other for a bit, until some other crew member asked them to move out of the way.

“Hey, why don’t we go to the lounge again?” Parsons said.

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