Good Boy

I begrudgingly dragged myself to my apartment building, my eyes feeling heavy and my stomach feeling queasy. You could say I knew something bad was about to happen the day I got my dream job. I might’ve known somewhere in my gut that I shouldn’t have rescheduled to do my last interview today. But I did.

I only felt tired for a few seconds. Maybe it was the excitement dying down in me… But it was just too sudden. Am I sick? Why am I so tired?

That was when it hit me. The man that bumped into me. I had to find him. Where did he go? Which way was he? It was the only thought on my mind at the moment. Not that I needed to find a way to get the drug out of my system, but that I had to find him. It played on an incessant loop in my mind; Find. That. Man.

I wasn’t thinking about my family at the time. I wasn’t thinking about my fiancé or the child I was expecting soon. Not long from now, they would be the only things I could think about. I would only be worried what they would think of my sudden disappearance. Right now, though, that wasn’t my concern.

The adrenaline from my unfailing fight-or-flight instinct coursed through my veins. It helped me stay awake just a bit longer. I took a few steps and then I was frozen solid into place, starting to feel myself sway and drop to the ground. My vision went blurry and the corner of my eyes went black. Within seconds, my eyes were totally closed. After that, total darkness had consumed me.

I woke up with pale light bleeding through a black blindfold. In my recently conscious state, I hadn’t yet registered that I had been kidnapped and I couldn’t help noticing it matched the darkness of my hair. The feeling of cold metal chains around my wrists and ankles was what brought me to reality. A few unexpected tugs revealed that I was attached to something. The soft, firm surface below told me I was under a lifted seat in a car.

As I suspected, there was someone watching me “You’re up. Thought you died on me for a second.” A deep, unfamiliar voice of a middle-aged man rang in my ears, burning holes in my heart and boiling my blood at the same time. I tried to scream that I would escape and kill him, but the newly-found gag in my mouth turned my stern, authoritative and intimidating voice into pitiful, incoherent mumbles.

“Tough guy, huh? Just how I like ’em.” I heard him scoff with anticipation.

As I was still trying to get out and scream at him, he started the car and drove off. I could feel the smoothness of a dirt road. It was hard to tell, but there were maybe six or seven turns from where he started driving to where he stopped. It took about 20 minutes before we did eventually stop. I knew right then there was nothing I could do for myself, but I also knew just how much it would help when I escaped to know a way back to somewhere.

The moment we got to our stop, I heard him step out of his car and open my door. There was a jingle of keys as the pressure around my ankles depressed. I instantly started kicking at him, but he grabbed my legs before I could get very far into beating him. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve done this too long to screw up now.”

As I heard him come around to unlock my wrists, I fought to grab hold of the door. Again, I was unsuccessful, quicker this time. He cuffed my hands under my feet and dragged me in by my hair. I felt degraded and dehumanized. I couldn’t move except to hit the backs of my thighs. My head hurt with him pulling me in by the hair, of course, but the worst part was that all I could do was sit like an oaf and cry about it instead of doing something, anything, to save myself from the torture I was anticipating.

It helped a little to focus on the smell of the air. It smelled clean, a bit like a forest and with a faint scent of animals. It reminded me of canyon winds. I could feel it turn my hot tears of pain and determination icy cold in an instant. Inside, the space felt widely open. Crying made me feel less exposed, but also vulnerable and weak at the same time. I knew he was dragging me to Hell on Earth. The tears fell faster the closer we got to my cell.

Being dragged downstairs by my short hair was nothing compared to the torture I was about to endure. I knew these were the stairs to where I would be held, but that was all I knew. The space smelled like dirt and a public bathroom.

He threw me onto a mattress. When he lifted my hands above my head, I thought I could move them freely, but they were latched to a spinning circle stuck in the wall. I didn’t yet know that, but I was seconds from figuring it out.

I heard him slowly crawl onto the bed, trying to seductively pull my gag down “There we go. What do you say?” He taunted.

“Go to Hell, you bastard.” I answered, spitting in his face. I could hear him laugh lightly. He pulled himself on top of me, keeping me pinned down. His breath was hot against my lips and the half-dried tears on my cheeks.

"I told you this would be fun." He reminded me, sliding his hand down to my waistline. I tensed up, trying to use my legs to throw him off. He was too heavy and it only turned him on more to see me fight so hard “So feisty. How I just want to take that blindfold of yours off so you can look me in the eyes while I…” He breathed heavily with excitement and anticipation, moving his lips against my ear. “Let’s just call it… taming.” I could feel his lips thin as he smiled, a small chuckle warming my ear.

“You’re sick.” I tugged at my arms, unable to get them free.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t help you get out of here, now does it?” And that was when I felt him pull off my pants, running his hand over my shaft.

I tried to kick him in the back, but I couldn’t get my legs high enough. “This is against the law!”

He punched my chest, nearly knocking all the air out of me “You’re not complaining down there.” He reasoned. I instinctively looked down at the progressing erection. I knew it was there, but that wasn’t because I liked this. Still, I was starting to learn I couldn’t do anything about this.

Suddenly, his lips connected with mine. As much as I wanted to pull away and bite his lip, I was having second thoughts about fighting back. I didn’t know what would happen. Out of sheer instinct, I bit his tongue when he inserted it into my mouth. That was going too far. It ended up being the wrong move. He slapped me so hard I felt a cut open on my lip when I bit it while closing my mouth.

“If you keep doing this, you know things won’t end well for you.” My lip trembled weakly and I nodded my head submissively. “Good. Be a good boy and maybe I won’t hurt you.”

I felt his warm mouth trail down my body, the shirt I was wearing now pulled behind my head. He got down to my penis and started kissing it. I shivered, cold and disgust mixing with my growing fear. I wanted to kick and scream, but at the same time I didn’t want to get hit again. I’m not sure which would be better; torture or rape. For now, I was picking the less physically painful option. But for how much longer?

He licked my dick, getting closer and closer to putting it between his lips. Oddly, it did feel good, but I still didn’t want him touching me. I wanted him to get off me, let me go and never touch me again. Once he finally put it in his mouth, he started massaging my sacs just below. I bit my lip, fighting back the urge to give him satisfaction. The only person I wanted to pleasure me was my fiancé.

After he had his fun with me, getting my confused body part to stand rock hard, he decided to have me return the favor. I felt the tip of his own erection pressed against my lips. Despite my barrier of teeth, he got me to let down the defenses. He slapped my sensitive, wet boner and I wailed, giving him leeway.

He did all the work, but I was the one who was feeling tired. The unusual circumstances made me choke and gag. I tried to open my mouth widely, but I had to keep it closed to keep myself from vomiting on the only clothes I would get. He grabbed my hair roughly and started to make me participate in my own rape. My head bobbed with the force of his arm pulling it back and forth. As I closed my eyes tightly, I could feel more tears layer over my old ones.

Finally, he let me breathe. I gasped for air, coughing loudly. He went straight from my mouth to my tighter, less defended hole “Please stop.” I begged weakly. He lifted me up by my jaw, the salty taste of his flesh covering my teeth. My shoulders ached from being held up with them bound to the wall.

“I don’t stop until I’m good and ready. You don’t get to decide when and you don’t want to because you’re my good boy, right?” He scolded, forcing me to nod my head “Good.” He threw my head against the wall, putting my legs over his as he inserted himself inside me.

I didn’t think it would ever feel good. At first, it was the worst pain ever; it felt like he stuck a knife in me and was cutting me in half. Then, it wasn’t as bad. My screams were of pain, anguish and oddly erotic pleasure. As much as I wanted him to stop, I forced myself to enjoy it, knowing that it was the best way to cope.

When he took himself out, I thought he was done with me. Instead, he was turning me over “Head down, slut.” He said, pressing my head to the mattress. Defeated, I became compliant. He started pounding into me. I could hear his skin meet mine.

He was still going when I started getting sore. It no longer felt good at all “I don’t want to do this anymore. Please, let me go.” I pleaded.

He pushed me against the wall. I could hear him grab something next to us. My skin was crawling and then it was being sliced. I groaned in pain. “Take this as a warning. The next time you disobey will be worse.” He threatened, going directly back to thrusting into me. HIs hands were now on my shoulders while I stayed perfectly still against the cold wall. I felt like I was being split in two, my cheeks completely stained with tears.

Being as close as he was, he could now hear me crying. Once he was finally done, he wiped my cheeks and grabbed something else from the table next to us. He pulled me onto my stomach with my legs now bound to another piece stuck in the wall. With my whole body exposed, I was on high alert. The leathery strips that trailed up and down my back were the only thing on my mind. “This is what you get when you cry and disobey.” He yelled, whipping me rough and carelessly.

Despite how loud I would wail, he continued to lash me. My back was turning raw and red from the burning pain that came from his mercilessness. I tried to get away, but that was why he locked my legs up. There was only one place I could stay until he decided to be done with me. And I didn’t see that being any time soon.