Cabin Fever

by Roe Horvat

  He gave it to me. He gave me his all. He was callous and violent, pulling my body onto his length, sinking his monster of a dick into my asshole all the way over and over. With him standing and me on my knees on the bed, his thrusts were long and powerful. I loved every second of it. He made me close in no time, and I whined, begged him to stay inside me, thanked him for filling my hole… I was going to come my brains out.

  He sped up, and I lost my short struggle, spraying my cum onto the sheets. I yelled as wave upon wave of ecstasy pulled me under until I was barely conscious.

  Fucking me harder than ever, Vincent swore and growled. He clutched my hips, his nails digging into my skin, his cock stuffing me full to the point of pain. He came inside me. Vincent’s spunk is in me. God, yes!

  “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you,” I sobbed.

  He pulled out and pushed me face first onto the bed. I landed in my own cum. Guess I’ll have to do laundry again tomorrow. Sore and sated, I rolled and watched as he slowly tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up. He was done with me. For some reason, I found it incredibly hot how he callously shoved me away after he came. Probably because my dumb lizard brain found everything Vincent did incredibly hot. Yes, just use me. Whenever you want.

  Then he bent down and picked the dildo up from the floor.

  “You think you know what you want, Mikey?” He remained calm and steady, as if he just hadn’t fucked me through a screaming orgasm and creamed my hole. He stroked along the dildo with sure hands.

  His voice grew deeper when he continued, and I was mesmerized. “From now on, you are my hole, boy. I decide what goes in you and when.”

  My groin tingled again from his words. Damn.

  “You’re not allowed to jerk off unless I tell you to. You are not allowed to finger your ass, not even with your pinkie.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I stammered.

  “You are my fuckhole, for my cock and my cum only. I own your ass. Understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “You’re not allowed to shower tonight. You’ll sleep on filthy sheets, full of cum, like the horny slut you are.”

  Fuck me, I’m in love. I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded.

  Giving one last look at my used, limp body, he left the room, taking the dildo with him.

  I lay naked on the bed, fucked out and satisfied, my skin still hot all over, and I sighed with happiness. Reaching between my ass cheeks, I toyed with my rim, dipping my fingertip into the warm cum, daring Vincent to come back and beat my ass up with the fucking dildo again. Then I pulled the covers up and rolled in my wet spot, grinning.

  He was glorious.

  8

  His hole

  Vincent

  I’d failed. And I couldn’t even make myself regret it anymore.

  His hole was the single most erotic thing I’d seen in my entire life. Every time I parted his smooth, flawless ass cheeks, and caught a glimpse of his sweet little pucker—pink, closed tight, innocent—my chest squeezed with an exquisite ache. Mine. The first time I’d doubted I could ever open him up enough to get even a third of my dick inside. But, I did open him up, and forced myself inside his slim body. He took me in like I was what he’d been waiting for.

  Michael was the perfect bottom, with a bubble butt that deserved a place in a gallery, and a tight hole that was so needy it swallowed my dick, and sucked me in like it wanted me to stay in there forever. The way Michael begged, the way his ring quivered around me when he was close, the way he moaned with pleasure when I slapped his ass hard… He was a slut for pain and trusted me enough to want me to hurt him. It turned me on like nothing else ever had. He was a dream come true.

  Tonight, I only spanked him lightly, watching his ass cheeks jiggle and listening to his mewling cries. I fucked him standing up in the kitchen, and he leaned his elbows on the counter, pushing his ass out and meeting my thrusts. He hummed, the sound luxuriant. He savored every deep fuck. God, he was incredible.

  I watched his rim as I pumped in and out of that perfect heat. He was stretched to capacity around my girth. It seemed like I could tear him apart, but he purred and strained for more. His round ass cheeks in my palms looked precious, like porcelain in my fingers. And god help me, I loved this as much as the red bloom over his perfect skin after I’d hit him. I slapped his ass muscles now, just a tap, a reminder, and he groaned and arched his back. He stared at me over his shoulder, his tongue darting out.

  I backed up and slid out of him. Michael whined.

  “No!”

  I turned him and lifted him by his thighs. He clung to me, wrapping his legs around me.

  “Please… don’t leave me like this!”

  “Patience, boy.”

  I laid him on the kitchen table, and Michael immediately grabbed his legs, spreading himself open for me and offering me his hole again.

  “Please, Daddy, fuck me hard.”

  It was entirely my pleasure. Honestly, it felt a little ridiculous. He said “please” and “thank you” as if I was giving him a gift by fucking him silly and coming inside his lithe, gorgeous body.

  He was the gift.

  And I took and took…

  I braced myself on the back of his thighs and impaled him on my cock to the hilt, shoving his whole body forward with the force of my thrust. He had to grab the edge of the table with both hands to stop the slide. Throwing his head back, he groaned from deep within. I didn’t hold back. I knew he wanted me to wreck him tonight. And I did. My sweet, sweet boy shouted with ecstasy when I plowed his ass as if there was no tomorrow.

  His slim, cut cock was hard, bouncing on his belly, clear liquid spattering around. His balls were drawn up. He was hairless, completely smooth, and so fucking young. The only blemishes on his flawless skin were traces of me, like the fading finger-shaped bruises on his hips from the first time I’d fucked him just a few days ago.

  “Daddy… you’ll make me come…” he gasped.

  I sped up and watched his face.

  His deep, green eyes fell shut, and his pouty lips stretched as his mouth opened wide, and he shouted. The tendons on his neck strained as he arched his back.

  His muscles convulsed around me, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. His features went slack. His head slumped to the side, and he grew limp, only my thrusts making his body move back and forth on the tabletop.

  Beautiful.

  Mine.

  I came, roaring like an animal. This was it. The Holy Grail. This was everything I’d ever dreamed about and hadn’t believed I’d ever find. His hot hole clenched with small aftershocks, so tight, sucking the cum out of me. There was no compromise, no holding back. He craved to be used. By taking what I wanted, I gave him what he needed.

  There’d been guys before. Plenty. Some of them submissive and kinky, some of them had even lasted a couple of years. My longest relationship, with Andrew… I used to think that was great sex. We even used to believe we were in love. Then we joined a club, because he wanted us to experiment, and for a while it had been deliciously filthy—before we grew apart, alienated in a tangle of threesomes and carefully arranged kink-club hookups.

  None of those men had ever trusted me this much, and never had any of them begged me to hurt them so honestly. None of them had ever reacted to me like Michael did—with complete surrender of body and mind. None of them had been so open and eager, so vulnerable in their need.

  When I was empty, I bent over and gathered him to me carefully, so my cock wouldn’t slip out. I carried him, and we sat on the couch, Michael in my lap, straddling me, my cock tucked in his hole.

  He cuddled to me, roping his arms around my neck.

  “Vincent, we’re not stopping again.”

  It was so wrong to have sex with him. I couldn’t even begin to list the number of reasons why it was such a bad idea. I should put a stop to this madness immediately before we went too far. Before I put him in danger.

  “You promised, Vincent. You own me now. I’m your fu
ckhole.” Michael laid his head on my shoulder, and the way he said the crude word sounded so tender. “Please, take care of me,” he whispered, rocking his hips gently, reminding me of our connection. I was still half-hard, and his warmth around me felt so profoundly good.

  Michael was a force of nature, changeable, dangerous, and powerful one moment yet fragile a second later. The stress he was under now—hiding from a killer for months—was enough to break anyone. He paid me to keep him alive, but he was yearning for someone to give a shit about his life and not just about his money.

  From the way Michael had lived so far, careless and on the edge, and from how he gave himself in sex, it wasn’t so difficult to conclude what kind of relationship he craved. He needed to be somebody’s priority. He wanted someone to keep him in line, to protect him from himself, to fuck him ruthlessly and take care of him with tenderness. He was asking me to do it because I was the one around while he couldn’t trust a soul and felt the most vulnerable in his life. Sex and physical pain were his outlet, his coping mechanisms. He could wake from a screaming nightmare, jerk off the next minute, and come like a geyser. When I’d beaten him up with a fucking dildo, used his body, and told him to sleep in our drying cum, an almost invisible, soft smile had played on his lips. Happiness. Fucked out and sore, he could sleep in peace. Make it through another day.

  A sea of red flags stormed in my mind. At the same time, I cherished the idea of him needing me in a different way. I wanted to take care of him, to see the content, sleepy smile on his face after I fucked him, to know I made his monsters go away…

  “It’s dangerous for you, Mikey.” It was the simplest, most obvious argument. I was only trying to convince myself, even though I already knew I would fail. I wouldn’t be able to stay away from him.

  “But it’s too late,” he murmured against my throat.

  He knew, as did I. We already wanted each other too much to deny ourselves. If I stopped now, I’d go insane with needing him. I want to take care of you, my sweet boy. I want that so much.

  “You will stick to the rules. And you won’t provoke me when I need to focus,” I told him sternly.

  You’re an idiot, Nowak. This boy is going to ruin you.

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  God. Why was it so fucking beautiful to hear him say that to me?

  9

  I’m a good boy

  Michael

  It was fun testing the waters with Vincent, trying how much power I could have over him. The push and pull between us and the sexual energy in the cabin made me so excited all the time I was actually almost happy. The emotion felt so alien at first and then completely natural. Of course, no danger could reach me when I was Vincent’s, right?

  The next day, after dinner, Vincent sat in the armchair, drinking tea and reading. I did the dishes, hung the towel, and stepped in front of him.

  He raised his eyebrows at me.

  “Please, Daddy.” I knelt and ran my hands up his thighs. “Will you let me suck on your cock?”

  He didn’t say anything, just spread his legs wide, sinking lower into the armchair, and returned his attention to his book. I grinned. Vincent was fun. It was like he had a direct connection to the most primitive parts of my brain, knowing exactly what to do, what to say, and when to stay quiet to make me need him like I needed water.

  I settled closer to him, kneeling between his legs, opened his fly, and pulled his cock out. He was half-hard in my hand and stiffened further when I squeezed. I nuzzled his groin, reveling in his scent.

  I took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his glans, nipping, pulling all the tricks I knew. He tasted divine. Salt and man and the unique flavor of Vincent. After a while, he put his book aside and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. His hand cupped the back of my head, guiding me, and I followed.

  I moaned with my lips stretched around his impressive girth, my erection straining in my underwear, wetting it with precum. His hand on my nape was so fucking hot, forcing me to take him just a tiny bit harder than was comfortable. Perfect.

  Then he pushed my head down, his cock tore into my throat, and he came, drowning me. I choked on his cum and coughed a little, but didn’t pull away. Heat surrounded my aching dick and balls, and it felt as if Vincent was touching me everywhere. Frenzied and breathless, I licked and sucked the cum from Vincent’s skin, wanting to get as much of his essence inside me as possible. As if eating his cum would make me belong to him more. Vincent’s hand tightened on my scalp, and he thrust up into my mouth again, forcing his cockhead into my sore throat one last time. The invasion served as a gag when I erupted, shooting into my underwear from the feeling of Vincent in my throat, the taste of his cum on my tongue, and his rough hand forcing me to take it all.

  “Stand up.” I did as Vincent ordered, my legs trembling.

  He rolled my sweats and underwear down, inspecting my soiled groin. The heat in his eyes was mesmerizing.

  He leaned forward and suckled on the tip of my spent dick, tasting me. I gasped. After everything we’d done, this was the most intimate he’d ever been with me. His eyes fluttered closed. I didn’t dare to move, but a shudder went through me all the same. The tip of his tongue teased my slit, and he swallowed, then sat back and looked up at me.

  “You like my cock in your throat. My filthy boy. You even creamed your pants like a virgin.”

  “Thank you so much, Daddy, for letting me taste you.” I trembled.

  He licked my softening dick once more, then pulled my sweats back up. He adjusted his jeans and picked up his book again.

  “Clean up and go to bed, boy.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  I glanced back at him from the bathroom door. Vincent was smiling into his book, his eyes shining.

  Okay, so the blow jobs were fantastic. Last night, Vincent had fucked my mouth in the shower. Then he’d fingered me and milked my cock, edging me until I was twitching. The orgasm had been out of this world. My cum burst out of me, flying through the air, and my whole lower body was buzzing. I almost fell asleep standing in the shower stall while he washed my groin.

  However, we hadn’t fucked in a few days, and I was craving his cock in me like a junkie.

  While he made dinner, I prepped. Fresh out of the shower, I joined him in the kitchen, just as he was plating the pasta. I set the table, we ate, and I cleaned up afterward.

  Vincent’s evening routines were quiet. Sometimes, he stayed in the living room. He checked his phone, worked on his iPad, and read one of the three paperbacks he had with him. I’d checked them all during the first week of our confinement: Factfulness by someone named Hans Rosling, 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami, and to my great amusement, a thin volume called Astrophysics for People in a Hurry.

  But sometimes Vincent hid in his room, doing what, I had no idea. Tonight, he’d been in there for forty-five minutes already. The kitchen was clean, and I was bored and horny. I looked out the window on the darkening forest, the reflection of the thin sliver of the moon glittering on the lake. I slipped my shoes on, fully aware Vincent was going to be mad at me, and I ventured the few feet outside to the pier. The night was beautiful. There were so many stars. I’d spent most of my life in New York or New Haven, surrounded by the bright man-made lights. I’d forgotten how insignificant one could feel under the magnificent night sky. I took a deep breath and stretched my back. This could’ve been a fantastic vacation if not for the whole secret location and being grounded because of a psycho killer... The lake whispered under my feet, and I closed my eyes, listening to the soft melody of the small waves lapping at the wooden posts.

  “Michael!” Vincent barked behind me.

  “Yeah?”

  “What the fuck are you doing outside again?”

  “I just wanted to look at the stars.”

  “Couldn’t you wait for me?”

  I shrugged. We’d been here for more than two weeks. Nothing had happened. Maybe I was getting reckless, but damn, we were completely hidden here,
with no connection to the outside world. I could go a few feet away from the cabin to look at the fucking stars without him giving me written permission.

  I’d just managed to stop being afraid all the fucking time, and he was going to ruin it for me. Was he just being overly cautious, or was he keeping things from me? What if real danger lurked around us right now and I courted it like a reckless fool? A sudden tightness in my gut made bile rise into my throat.

  He’d reached me by then, and his hand clasped my neck. He shoved me in the direction of the cabin. I went. It wasn’t like I had a choice.

  “The rules, Michael.”

  “I was literally ten steps away from the cabin, Vincent.” I wanted to defend myself more, but my voice sounded shaky and weak. I snapped my mouth shut.

  His hand on my neck tightened, and he pushed me through the door. I stumbled, but regained my balance. Vincent shut the door behind us and turned to me.

  “Did you do it to rile me up, Mikey?” His expression stayed suspiciously neutral.

  “No,” I answered honestly. “I was just bored. You were in your room doing whatever, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “My work here is for nothing if you don’t follow the rules.”

  I knew it wasn’t his intention, but the command in his voice did things to me. I licked my lips. Don’t think about the fear. You’re safe. Look at him. His shoulders are rising with angry breaths, his eyes flashing with fury. He’s gorgeous…

  “Fucking hell, Mikey. I mean it!”

  “I’m sorry.” I was getting hard. He was magnificent when he was pissed at me.

  “Stop looking at me like that. This is serious.”

  “I know.” But I couldn’t help it. My nipples were tingling, and I had to swallow. “Will you punish me?”

  “No, you fucking incubus. I’m not rewarding you for endangering yourself on a whim, dammit. You will follow the rules, Michael. How is it possible that if I tell you to keep your hands off your dick, you obey me, but if I ask you to be reasonable so I can keep you alive, you don’t care?”