Page 2 of Tantalized By the Cursed Statue
“But you’re so tall and dominant,” she says, looking up at him.
He buries his face in his hands and groans.
* * *
Nathaniel leaves the party, tiptoeing out the back door. With a sigh, he throws the costume shackles into his backpack.
This isn’t working.
Yeah, the vibe of the party was low-level kinky, just like the flier had hinted at. But he and his shitty costume just managed to confuse everyone. He doesn’t really blame them for being confused; he wasn’t sending the right signals. And it’s hard to figure out what signals he wants to send when he’s confused about them himself.
Maybe he’s too tall and masculine to fit anyone’s physical expectations for a sub? Or is he giving off desperate vibes? If he wants to submit, he’s got to seem a little bit vulnerable, right? But not desperate enough that it’s not sexy. How does anyone strike a balance?
He slings his backpack over his shoulder and starts the long, lonely walk home. If he can’t find a dominant girlfriend at a party like this, maybe he should just give up.
He knows he should ignore all these negative thoughts, but as he trudges under the glow of the streetlights, they nag at him. He graduated five months ago, but no one has been hiring for his degree. With no other prospects, he decided to stay in his college town. This meant watching all his college friends leave over the summer, starting new lives in different cities.
And now that he’s out of school, he’s just spinning his wheels at a dead-end job, feeling a little out of place and wondering if he should move back in with his parents.
Oh well, at least he has his big creepy statue.
Always looking at him with his dead, soulless eyes. The statue wants him, that’s for sure. He wants Nathaniel’s body, his soul, his mind. If the statue had crashed the kinky party back there, he wouldn’t have let Nathaniel leave until he was good and bound with his collar around his neck.
Not many people are bigger than Nathaniel, but that statue makes him feel small in a way that makes his stomach clench and his skin feel sensitive. The statue is of a fully-formed, fully developed man, much more rugged and solid than a 23-year-old boy just out of college. He’s got layers of muscle. It’s honestly impressive how defined the sculptor made him look, like a swole mix of marble and creatine. Even a straight guy like Nathaniel can’t ignore his powerful core, the tendons of his neck running up to his square jawline. His forearms are thick, his shoulders wide and strong. And the way he holds his corded hands out from his sides, fingers slightly spread, like he’s prepared to attack…
Or defend.
Great, now Nathaniel is both sad and turned on. His half-hard cock bounces inside his pants with every step.
Might as well freak himself out a little.
So he forces his feet to turn in the direction of the cemetery. It’s eleven o’clock at night, far too late to be walking through such a dark, spooky place. So it’s kinda perfect.
He’ll just have to get his cheap thrills fromhim. At least until he can find a real person to hold his leash.
* * *
As Nathaniel walks through the cemetery, his shoes squishing into the soft ground, he feels no fear at all.
He’s not scared of anything!
His stomach is definitely not churning with a sickly mix of anticipation and dread. His jaw is not clenched, and his skin is not covered in goosebumps.
Okay, all of those things are happening.
He’s fucking terrified. It’s completely dark; crumbling headstones glow in the faint light of his phone flashlight. Every step he takes brings him closer toit.
What the hell was he thinking, walking the overgrown path up the hill to the old mausoleum? The last time he’d done this, the statue hadsaid his name.
Except that is crazy. The statue isn’t alive, and he can’t speak. He doesn’t know who Nathaniel is. His name was conjured from his own stupid, horny brain. That potent mix of fuck-or-flight endorphins must have made him hallucinate.
He is not going to hallucinate this time. He’s going to keep his shit together.
He isn’t going to look at the statue’s face. Definitely not.
But maybe it’s better to check?
He takes a peek up at the statue.
