Page 53 of Steel & Thunder
I step over to him, unsure of what he wants. He closes the distance and reaches into my shirt, pulling out my collar. He holds the padlock in his hand, and after producing the key from his pocket, unlocks it.
Oh.
He slips the chain from around my neck, gathering it in his hand with the key.
“I thought I had to wear one of those?” Isn’t it the law?
“I can find you one that is a little more subtle, I think.” He smiles, though I can sense some sadness behind it. “Have a good night, David. There should be some pillows and blankets in the closet in your room. Please remember to put out the lanterns before you go to bed.”
I nod and watch him turn away and walk down the hall, bedroom door shutting behind him. Without me. Wow.
I mean, great, right?
I look around the living room, expecting things to look different in light of my newfound freedom. My eyes are drawn to the front door. I could leave right now, but there wouldn’t be much of a point. I wander into the kitchen, spotting the basket full of dar-buk and grabbing a few. I’ve barely eaten today.
I sit on the couch and snack, not really sure what to do with myself now. He’s really going to let me go, just like that. I mean, not “just like that.” It’s not like I’ve been at a tea party the last five days. Part of me almost feels bad for my friends. They’re imprisoned while I still get a warm bed and good food. Of course, none of them lost their virginity in front of a crowd of people and were then enslaved, so it’s a pretty small part.
Khazak—and I guess I can really call him that now—is basically letting me off the hook for everything. Wallowing in my own misery and self-pity the last few days, it was easy to forget that I attacked him and his men...
And almost tried to kill him in the arena...
And then drugged him and almost destroyed his career.
Fuck, is that why I feel guilty? I’m not saying I deserved all the...rough handling, but I guess I’m not sure what I’d do or how I’d feel if I were in his position.
After about fifteen minutes of sitting on the couch and staring at the empty fireplace while burying my feelings in pastries, I give up trying to do anything else and call it a night. I blow out the lanterns in the living room and kitchen and head to my new bedroom. It is extremely barebones: blank walls, a bed, a table, and some boxes in the corner. I remove the clothing that I realize I’ve been wearing since last night and grab the bedding from the closet to make up the bed. Maybe I can ask about putting up some pictures or something tomorrow.
I grab the book from the floor and crack it open, but it just doesn’t hold my interest right now. I know I slept like shit last night, but I’m not feeling very tired either. After a few more minutes of trying to get into it, I put the book down, rolling over to blow out the light. I lay in the dark staring at the ceiling, trying not to continuously run the conversations and revelations of the day through in my head, or examine any of the weird feelings I’m having too closely.
In the end, I just close my eyes until eventually, sleep takes me.
Chapter Fourteen
I wake up the next morning in bed, alone. Which was supposed to happen. I slept like shit. No nightmares or dreams, just a lot of tossing and turning. I can’t remember ever dreaming as much as I have since arriving here. Or at least I usually forget them by the time I’m awake. I wish I was surprised that part of me misses sleeping in bed with Khazak. It was nice waking up with someone right there. At least once we started getting along, if that’s what you can call it. I’d never done that before.
Of course, there were other benefits to sharing a bed in the mornings. Though we never really took advantage of that, unless you count the first morning where I kinda...freaked out about it. I freaked out about a lot of things. Then they started to seem not so freaky. I reach down and give my morning wood a squeeze. It has been a couple of days since I last got off. Not since he did that thing with his tongue...
My cock throbs at the memory. It’s not like I have anywhere to be. I grip myself more firmly and begin to stroke. Haven’t done this in a while, not since Holbrooke, I think. Kinda hard when I was sharing a tent with Adam. Not to mention any masturbation material had to be pulled from memory. My go-tos were stories I’d hear from classmates, crude drawings from some very strange books in the library, and this one time I walked in on Lieutenant Smith fucking his girlfriend on a desk in one of the empty classrooms.
I’ve never really thought too much about what I was focusing on in those memories but... I don’t think it was the women. When I first got here, it was easy to say I didn’t like any of this, to dismiss my enjoyment as nothing more than a physical reaction. Then at some point, I stopped fighting it. Would that have still happened if I hadn’t met Ironstorm? Did he turn me into this, or is this who I’ve been all along? Thinking about the way I stared at the lieutenant’s muscled ass while he fucked his girlfriend, it was probably the latter.
But now I have my own experiences to draw from. I think back to that first morning, waking up to someone spooned behind me. The way I could feel him hard against my ass, his hand snaking around and grasping me gently, almost ghosting his fingers over my shaft. I copy the movement with my own hand, biting my lip at the ticklish sensation. I had no real idea who he was at that point or what he was going to do with me, only that he currently owned me...which somehow made it hotter.
Gods, what is wrong with me? Getting off on being forced like that when I have much nicer things to think about. Like in the shower. Both times. I never knew kissing was supposed to feel that good. I’ve kissed plenty of girls. Soft, warm, kinda wet. I thought that’s just what it feels like. But with him? His beard rough against my face, his teeth biting at my lips, his tongue probing my mouth. Nothing like kissing a girl. I remember standing under the hot water, his lips on mine, his hand moving along my body... I run my free hand over my chest and stomach, pretending that it belongs to someone else. Then I move it lower and give my balls a little squeeze.
Tongues are useful for a lot more than kissing too. I remember after the football game, right out of the shower when he threw my legs back and... I didn’t even know that was a thing people did. I spread my thighs slightly and move my hand lower, behind my balls. I tentatively run a finger along my hole, shuddering at the sensation as I stroke myself. I rub my finger around the rim, all soreness from earlier in the week gone.
We haven’t actually fucked since that first day, unless you count his fingers in the shop. Both were pretty hot in retrospect. And maybe a little in the moment too. But I guess if I had to choose...I’d take the dick over the fingers, easily. Well not easily, because that thing is huge, but the way it stretched me open and just kept hitting that one spot inside me felt amazing. I didn’t know you could cum without, you know, cumming. It felt like my entire body was having an orgasm. Comparing the way I came on his fingers at Brull’s shop to cumming on his dick in the arena (twice) is like comparing the shot from a rifle to the blast from a cannon. I definitely would like for that to happen again.
I hate to admit this, but everything that happened that day was hot. Throwing me down and using his knife to strip me... I bring my hand back up and scrape a fingernail down my chest. Then he tied my hands above my head with the scraps and started stretching me open... My hand moves back to my hole, this time pressing in slightly, all while the hand on my dick moves faster and faster. Then he threw my legs back and pushed inside me, fucking me over and over. Everyone in the stands watching, literally unable to control myself and cumming dry on his cock, his tongue in my mouth at the same time he shot his load inside of me.
Fuck! My cock explodes, spraying cum all over my chest and stomach.
...Yeah, you’re pretty fucked up, David. And now also sticky.
I frown, not feeling the usual blissed out aftermath that comes with a nice self-induced orgasm. It usually lasts a minute or two, but right now I just feel kinda...sad. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Maybe jerking off to the thoughts and memories of the guy you have very confusing feelings for isn’t the smartest thing to do. Do I miss him? I mean, he’s probably just in the kitchen right now or something.
It’s impossible to tell in the dark, but I really hope I managed to miss the sheets and mattress with my load. No one likes laying in a wet spot. I turn my head and see light coming from under the door. It’s morning: time to clean up. I gingerly slide myself off the bed, hoping that none of the mess lands on the floor and also that I can get into the bathroom without issue or a certain orc noticing. With my sticky hand still wrapped around my dick, I slowly open the door and peek my head out.
