Page 16 of Steel & Thunder
“Mmmf.” Distracted by my own stupid joke, I fail to hold in a whimper when there’s another shift behind me.
I go stone still, holding my breath before realizing that will be even more suspicious. There’s more movement, then the arm around me goes slack. Things are still, at first, until I feel his hand drifting up and softly rubbing my stomach. Then he dips down, carding his fingers through my pubic hair before wrapping them lightly around my shaft.
I can’t help but hump forward a little at the contact, biting my lip and hoping to pass it off as involuntary. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, his fingers still wrapped around my dick, stroking softly, slowly against the smooth skin. His touches are light, almost too light, bordering on ticklish. They probably would be if they were on any other part of my body. But he seems content to keep playtime relegated to my dick, and I’m finding myself surprisingly okay with that.
“You know, some people might consider it rude to make me do all the work.” I jump when the voice whispers in my ear, immediately batting his hand away and rolling forward off the bed. I stand by the bedside, unable to do much more than glare thanks to the chain still connecting me to the headboard. None of that seems to faze him, lying there in all his glory with a shit-eating grin on his face. Stupid sexy orc.
No, not sexy! An asshole!
“I am hungry. Are you hungry?” He scoots across the mattress toward me and stands, acting like none of that just happened, like our dicks aren’t pointing at each other right now. He reaches down to unlock the chain from my cuffs, ruffling my hair and walking out of the room.
What the hell was that?
I hear the telltale sounds of someone peeing, and when he doesn’t come back to the room, I figure I should follow him...after I wait for my hard-on to go down. Which I had before he started touching my dick! Once my perfectly-normal-to-have-first-thing-in-the-morning erection goes away, I follow his lead and relieve myself before padding out to the living room. I think about wrapping myself in a sheet, but what would be the point? He clearly intends to keep me naked.
The stove is already lit, and I can see the captain standing over it, pouring something into a pot of water. It looks like ground oatmeal. Is porridge still a thing? I guess I’ll find out. My stomach growls. I bet my teammates are hungry too. What am I doing thinking about breakfast? I need to get out of here. I look down at my still cuffed wrists. My last two escape attempts didn’t exactly work out. I’ll have to bide my time and wait for the opportunity to present itself. And in the meantime, I can try to learn more about where we are exactly.
“Can I... Can I ask you some questions?” My request has him poking his head up.
“I suppose that would be alright,” he answers while stirring the contents of the pot.
“Where are we?” I’m mostly just curious; anyone I could write to for help is an ocean away. “Like, what’s the name of the city?”
“V’rok’sh Tah’lj,” is what I think he says. “Though you may find that difficult to pronounce. It translates to ‘home among the trees.’”
“Vorekish Talj?” I repeat back the best I can.
“Close enough,” he responds without looking over.
“What about your name?” Ironstorm can’t be his first name. At least I hope not.
“What about yours?” Touché.
“Cerano.” It’s not like holding onto it was doing me any good. “David Cerano.”
“Cerano. I like that.” My name rolls off his tongue easily. “I am Khazak Uzi’gar.”
Yeah, I’m gonna butcher that. “Can I call you Zak instead?”
“No. You will refer to me as Sir or Captain.” His tone leaves little room to argue.
“I thought your last name was Ironstorm?” Gonna just blow past that sir nonsense for now.
“A rough translation of Uzi’gar.” He looks over his shoulder at me. “Human tongues seem to have problems with our language, at least from your part of the world.”
“Human tongues are just fine.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Maybe your language is just overly complicated.”
“Yes, perhaps.” Sarcasm. “Anything else?”
“What happens now?” I wrap my arms around myself, feeling a sudden chill. “Like, is this it? Am I just yours forever?” Stuck in this town in the middle of nowhere for the rest of my life.
“More or less.” He takes the pot off the stove while he speaks. “You are mine until I decide to release you.”
“And I’m guessing you’re not planning on doing that anytime soon,” I sigh, mostly to myself.
“Do you have somewhere to be?” he jokes as he empties the pot into a shallow bowl. Just the one, again.
“My friends—”
