Page 111 of Caged In

“You on the other hand . . . I care if you feel pain—unwanted pain. I don’t want to inflict injuries on you which you’re not comfortable with. And I don’t want to treat you as the apple, I care if you were to be sliced open, I do not want it from you. I would like you to be in one piece.”

So . . . Sin views people as unthinking unfeeling plants? Like crushing a grape—the emotions Izz would feel if he squished a grape is what Sin feels to . . . squish a person . . .

Izz can’t say he relates to the feelings. It’s strange to him, to view people—or any living creature—as nothing more than an apple, as Sin describes it. With no guilt over a human’s death . . .

It would actually be kind of nice to hold no guilt. He’d be able to sleep a full night without nightmares of dead people plaguing him. Without seeing the guard on the floor . . . All the blood . . .

Izz blinks the images away. Shoving them into the back of his mind. He isn’t sure how to respond to Sin. So he nods, taking Sin’s hand to lead the dangerous male out of the Satanic cell to the shower room.

He may not understand why Sin views life as meaningless, but he does understand one thing. Sin holds him above everyone else. As a prized possession to be taken care of. Protected.

They walk side by side down the corridors to the showers. With every inmate—who is unlucky enough to be stuck in the same corridor—turning and swiftly retreating back the way they came.

Izz finds it amusing how everyone avoids Sin. And here he is, clinging to the male’s side. Letting Sin fuck him—

No,beggingSin to fuck him.

I truly am insane.

34

Izz’s naked under the shower spray all by his little lonesome. Sin’s still in the separate area where you leave your clothing when you enter the massive communal shower room—a word one would think doesn’t belong in front of showers.Privateorsingularshower stalls would be a million times better. Less nasty, less horrifying, less leering creeps watching you.

He doesn’t have to worry about the last part, not this time. The entire shower room is empty. There had been one inmate about to get naked and come in, Sin’s narrowed eyes in their direction had them hastily scurrying out.

Which leaves Izz alone, under the warm spray. With his erection raging and demanding attention. He’s still pent up over their activities in Sin’s cell.

And he is alone . . .

Glancing around, he takes a deep breath, and before he can talk himself out of it his hand is wrapping around his cock. Stroking his length as he pinched his eyes shut. He wants to get it over with as quick as possible so he doesn’t get caught wanking in the showers. Not that he hasn’t seen multiple men in here shamelessly touching themselves. He, on the other hand, is extremely shy when it comes to this and would probably die of embarrassment if he were to be caught.

The slice in his side is throbbing under the warm spray. Reminding him of its presence. He’s reluctant to admit that the pain feels somewhat good. The small tingling throb . . .

Izz tentatively hovers his other hand over his side. Lingering mid-air for a moment before applying pressure—

He gasps as sparking sensations radiate down his side, traveling over his ribs to fan out inside his stomach, shooting into his cock.

He drops his forehead against the tiled wall. Working his hand up and down his shaft as he plays with the slice in his side. His thighs trembling. Rapidly approaching his release.

Several strokes later he’s biting his lip as an explosion of pleasure splinters him apart. Rope after rope of hot cum spurts out of his twitching length. Spluttering on the tiles to be quickly washed away by the water’s flow.

He stands there, alone, shuddering, as his body pulls itself back together. Slowly blinking his eyes open—

Sin’s leaning right next to Izz, a smirk gracing his lips. And he holds no apology for sneaking up on Izz to watch him pleasure himself.

Izz fights back the urge to drown himself out of sheer embarrassment. “O-okay, so I like knife-play. Leave me be.”

Sin’s smirk only grows, a full-blown sinister grin spreading across his face. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Izz can feel the hyper excitement radiating out of him. Knows he’s pleased. Knows he must be thinking about how much further he can take it. Now that he’s confirmed Izz enjoys the new kink . . .

Izz’s eyes drag to his wound . . .

Will the cut leave a scar?

A new brand to go along with the tattoo he wears. The bruises his body bears. A scar to show he belongs to Sin . . .

Perhaps he should get some more tattoos, to represent himself, before he’s covered in marks from another . . . Don’t get him wrong, he loves the bruises and bites marring his flesh. He’d just like something to portray who he is.

“I think I’d want another tattoo.” Izz flicks the showers spay off, finished with his rinse and scrub routine. “When I get out.”He’d need to find a job first, and make sure his family has food, shelter, warmth—

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