Page 10 of Under His Heel

And he had. Bondservitude! Alex would sell his body and somebody else would pay the Nilsens, all sanctioned by station authority. Nick had promised he’d help Alex get out of it as fast as possible. They would skip town—any station at least two solar systems away would do—and start over, just like they always had.

Nick had argued in favor of a full-body mod contract, one that would pay off the debt faster, because the Nilsens were breathing down their necks and not particularly happy about a five-year payment plan when Nick and Alex owed them such a stupid high sum. It had to look like they were actually trying to pay it off. But Alex had seen Anja’s former bondservant while his jaw still throbbed from the missing tooth, and some small part of him had realized the risk was too high, that he and Nick might not escape as easily as they’d intended.

He hadn’t expected Nick to ditch him completely.

Even with that thing buzzing in his ass, he started crying all over again.

He wanted Nick—anybody—to come save him.

[Chapter 5]

No savior came for Alex, only Tracht guiding him out of the cage and removing the gag, earplugs, and blindfold.

Still, for one blinding moment Alex was so damned grateful, it overwhelmed him. Thank you was on the tip of his tongue, would almost have made it out if Tracht hadn’t rubbed his thumb along Alex’s jaw.

Alex swallowed the words and sat, waiting.

“Anything you’d like to say, Alex?” Tracht stood looming over Alex, those damned boots of his brushing against Alex’s bare skin. The sensation should have irritated Alex, but his brain pounced on that, enjoying a feeling that was different from the mat.

He rubbed his face with the back of his mittened hand, disgusted by the mess he wiped off, and choked out, “I need to piss.” He needed a lot of things, but that was the most pressing need.

Tracht laughed. “I’m sure you do.” He held out his hand.

It took Alex a moment to realize that Tracht wanted him to grasp that hand. He struggled with it, because he fucking loathed Tracht, but now that he’d voiced the urge, the pressure on his bladder seemed to have doubled.

It would serve Tracht right if Alex ended up pissing himself right there. Except Tracht’s reaction would probably be a lot worse than the momentary joy of pissing Tracht off.

In the end Alex held out his own encased hand and allowed himself to be pulled upright.

He should have known that wouldn’t be the end of it though. Tracht kept holding his wrist as they walked the few steps to the bathroom. Every step jostled his bladder and threatened to make Alex wet himself.

It was a relief when they finally made it there. Alex moved to stand in front of the toilet, and then realized that with his hands still encased in the mitts, there was no way for him to hold his cock.

“Having trouble? I’ll help.” Tracht stepped up behind him and gently held Alex’s encased cock, aiming it at the toilet bowl.

Not that Alex could piss under these circumstances. His bladder felt full to bursting, and yet nothing came out.

“Let go,” Tracht whispered in his ear, bringing his other hand up to stroke Alex’s stomach in small circles. It was disgustingly soothing.

The stroking became a hard pressure, right over his bladder. Alex’s body heated up with shame, but that didn’t stop the piss from flowing out of him, and he found himself leaning back into Tracht’s body.

“Good boy,” Tracht whispered right into his ear. Alex shivered, and the disgust that followed had him stepping as far away as he could with Tracht’s hands still pawing at him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Something was wrong with Alex. One night—day—whatever, a bunch of hours in isolation and Alex was suddenly desperate? No fucking way. He endured Tracht shaking the last few drops off his cock, and he endured Tracht making him crawl back towards the living area.

Tracht sat down on the couch. He made Alex lean against his leg. Alex was so tense, he wanted to lash out at Tracht, but the one smart part of his brain reminded him that there were worse places he could be right then.

“Are you thirsty, Alex?” Tracht asked as he petted Alex’s hair. He gripped the hair tight and used it to manipulate Alex’s head to look up.

“Yeah, I’m fucking thirsty,” Alex growled, because he hadn’t had more to drink than whatever moisture had been on the gag. He couldn’t have been in the cage too long though, not if he wasn’t delirious with thirst yet.

He yelped when Tracht pulled sharply on his hair. “I despise cussing. You will watch your language.”

Or fucking what, Alex wanted to answer, but he thought the answer to that might be to stick him in the cage again, and he wanted to make the most of being able to move around. Grudgingly, he nodded at Tracht, and Tracht let go of his hair.

Alex started salivating when Tracht grabbed one of the water bottles sitting on the side table.

“Good. Now, I will let you drink some of this, but I think we need to establish some better rules.” Tracht held the bottle right in front of Alex’s nose. He had fast reflexes though, pulling the bottle out of reach when Alex tried to grab for it. He pinched Alex’s nose shut in retaliation.

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