He'd awakened me by flipping me off my mattress. I'd blinked my sleep-blurred eyes as I had tried to figure out what was going on, and then I’d realized he’d exposed the snacks I'd hidden beneath my uncomfortable bed. It had steadily lost air over the last few days until I’d sunk to the hard floor. When I realized he was taking in the contraband, I'd thrown my blanket over them. His mouth had hardened, and he'd grunted as he filled my bed. Without another word, he'd tossed it at me and motioned to my daily allotment of food that would last me until he returned.
I was concerned by the fact he hadn’t spoken to me. He used his words sparingly. No more than just orders. I’d only decided the day before to make myself useful. While I feared what he planned for me, his silence made it worse. Would he have inflated my bed if today was the day? He did appear the type to be nice before he slit my throat.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize he was gone until I heard the basement door slam upstairs. I stared at the ceiling following his sure, even steps. Once I was positive that he was gone, I straightened my space up and stood to go to the bathroom. I still didn't like the shadows or the oppressive darkness of the tiny room.
I'd found a routine in my new reality. Bathroom, cleaning with the ice-cold water and then having my breakfast. I made sure to add the wrapped snack to the growing pile. I didn't know if I'd need them now that I feared he was ready to get rid of me. Maybe he was readying the space for his next captive.
I slowly ate my breakfast, today he served me waffles and not those frozen ones either. I enjoyed my food, but there was a new addition to the tray. A box with a note that read don't open until ordered.
He seemed too calm to have never attempted this before. I shifted to lie down on the mattress and stared up at the wood beams. The cock cage irritated my balls, and I grew tired of it. It wasn't as if I had felt a normal arousal since he'd locked me in here, but I didn't like the punishment. But wasn't that the point? He wanted to make sure I obeyed.
I hated feeling as if I was an unruly child. I didn't like being made to bathe in front of him. I still shifted uncomfortably remembering him watching me play with my ass. No one had ever witnessed me doing anything of the sort. I was always the chunky, unpopular boy, and while I'd kissed—did all the usual make out stuff—I'd never been to bed with a man.
When I imagined my first time, I'd never pictured I'd be locked in a basement/cellar and forced to expose myself to a man who didn't even seem to respond to the things he did to me. Wasn't that one of the first things I'd assumed when I'd awakened here? Terrified of being forced into sex, raped at a stranger's whim. I tugged the blanket higher on my chest to keep out the chill.
“Remove the blanket.”
I jumped and pressed my back to the wall as an echoing voice came from the darkness. I'd heard him leave. The door had slammed.
How did I not realize that he watched me? He left for long stretches of time as if going to a regular job. He did mention that if I tried to escape, he'd know. I could've tried to escape a dozen times by now. Why hadn't I?
“Pick up the box. Stretch out on your back without the blanket.”
I did as he asked only because I had a feeling my next punishment would be worse. I lay there hating the feeling of being exposed.
“Open the box.”
He didn't waste his words, and I wondered if I'd met him before. The mask and the short sentences spoken in a low voice—almost a whisper. I swallowed around the lump in my throat as I opened the box and everything in me stopped. A massive dildo rested in the box beside a bottle of lube. I didn't care how much lube I used…this was going to hurt. It was twice that of my own toys.
“Fuck yourself—now.”
I opened my mouth to argue as I stared at it and I thought he couldn't humiliate me more than he had when he'd watched me clean myself. My cock couldn't harden in the cage that trapped it. I could pretend I was alone in my bed and play out my favorite fantasy.
I flipped the top of the lube, slicked my fingers and closed my eyes. I made myself comfortable and brought my legs to my chest; the shackles around my ankles making it awkward. I reached past the curve of my belly and smoothed the slick around my hairy hole. With my free hand, I cupped my nuts and lifted them. At the slow thrust of one finger inside my hole, I mentally played out my recent favorite.
Cowen came up behind me in the office, and he placed his forehead between my shoulder blades. I loved that the smaller man liked my bigger body. A moan slipped past my lips, and I bit my lip before another one could escape. I pictured I moved my hands to take his hips. He never made me feel clumsy and unattractive, and he wouldn't assume I was a top because of my size. Just as I readied myself for my toys, I added another finger.
I ignored that my captor watched me on camera, but I couldn't ignore the discomfort as my dick started to harden inside the restrictive metal. Stopping wasn't an option. I knew what he'd do to me when he got home. I didn't carry fond memories of his whip licking over my back and backside.
“On your hands and knees with your ass to the entry.”
I cursed as his brusque voice intruded, but again I did as he asked.
“Enough playing, slick your new toy and fuck yourself.”
I wanted to protest and tell him I wasn't ready, but he didn't care. He wanted to humiliate me, and I wondered if he more than watched me—did he film me? Would there be evidence long after I left this basement? Would it matter if I was dead? Maybe that was the game? He imprisoned me for others to pay to watch him humiliate me—abuse me.
I kept swallowing as nausea built from the nerves anticipating the pain. I straightened only long enough to slick the long, thick dildo, it had to be ten inches, and my thumb and forefinger didn't meet. The lube I used was excessive, but I was relieved that he allowed me even that small amount of comfort. Awkwardly I held the base, my hand and the toy almost too slick for me to hold.
My teeth ground together at the intense burn and pain, whatever hard-on I'd had disappeared in that flash of pain. I whimpered in agony as the fat head popped past my rim. Sweat beaded my skin, thighs shaking as my body rejected the intrusion and the head slipped back out. I screamed, and my back arched as I forced it a few inches inside. I was panting and dripping sweat, as I shallowly fucked myself, trying to take another inch with each push.
I was in agony as the base met my ass. I was stretched so tight I couldn't even think about moving it. My body needed time to adjust, but I was sure my captor's patience was nearing an end. He'd bark his next order at any time. I was afraid to move a fraction of an inch.
“Must I repeat myself, your slowness has earned you ten lashes, would you care to add?”
“N-no.”
“Do it. You're so pretty when you whimper.”
My captor's voice softened just as it had the first night that he’d whipped me. Almost caring, as if what he was doing to me was normal. And who was I to say that I wasn’t just one in a long line of captives.
I lost myself in my thoughts as I did what he ordered. My involuntary whines grew louder as I realized no amount of lube would make this comfortable. A twinge built in my shoulder and back at the odd angle and I tried to shift to make it easier, but nothing I did helped. I fucked myself as hard as possible figuring he'd grow bored sooner rather than later, then something terrible happened. The constant slide of the veined length over my gland started to loosen my hole, and my cock started to harden painfully inside its restraint.
I was horrified by the reaction of my body at the unwanted pleasure and the harder my dick became, the more the metal pinched. I couldn't come without stimulation, but I worked the dildo just so it constantly hit my gland. No longer was I whimpering and an image of me as if I was outside my body formed. Cowen's slender body was behind me. I was no longer filled with something fake—an instrument of my humiliation—it was Cowen taking me. Long powerful strokes, I swore I could almost hear the sounds of his grunts and the way his hips met my ass.
He was whispering to me. Dirty things. Telling me how much he loved my ass. It was his cock and his voice—my captor was no longer observing me as he would a rat trapped in a maze.
“That's enough.”
The anger in the voice took me by surprise, and I froze with the dildo buried deep. My captor never spoke in anything other than a smooth, calm voice, but sometimes it contained a sharpness as it did when he whipped and spanked me. Although, never something that sounded on the verge of rage.
“Good boy. For doing as I asked, I will spare you punishment.”
I waited long minutes on my knees, braced on one hand as I waited for another order, but it never came. Hard-on long gone and I winced as I started to remove the toy, thankful for the relief.
“No, you will sit on your bed with the toy in until I tell you otherwise.”
I played his words over in my head. He wanted me to keep the thing in me. I was sore and raw from the size and insufficient slick. I started to remove it again.
“Do you like the lick of my whip?”
“N-no, sir.”
“Do as I say. I will be watching, boy. I know every move you make.”
I spun and sat down too quickly, and a twinge went through my stomach as the toy went in deeper. I hadn't cried nearly as much as I thought I should, but at that moment, I felt the tremble of my lower lip. A thought struck me, and I was terrified by it, would death be so bad?