Blake weighed his options. His feet were free, but with his arms pulled so severely behind his back, his center of balance was completely thrown. He might get one good kick before Sarceda knocked him over, and then the goons would break the door down and he'd be a dead man.
No. Now was not the opportune moment.
"You could lash out at me, of course," said Sarceda, as if reading his thoughts. "You might even succeed in taking me down, at first. But I have a small army at my disposal. If you try to hurt me, they will not make your stay very pleasant. I'm offering you an alternative. A much more agreeable one, I feel. But of course, you always have the choice. You can fight back." He looked up, suddenly, fixing Blake with piercing stare. "But make no mistake about it. I will break you. The only question is..." his eyes flickered very pointedly down to Blake's groin, and then back up again. "...will we do this the easy way? Or the hard way?"
Blake's eyes narrowed. "Why would I want to make anything easy for you?"
"Oh, no," said Sarceda, chuckling. "I meant easy for you."
Blake blinked. "I think we might have different ideas of what 'easy' is."
"Don't worry," Sarceda whispered, his hand sliding around the back of Blake's neck to grab onto the short hairs at the base of his skull. "I'll be gentle. For now."
Laughing, Blake tilted his head towards Sarceda's grasp. "Do you think this bothers me?"
"Oh, Mr. Blake." Sarceda clicked his tongue. "Do you think I care?"
He put his hand back on Blake's shoulder and pushed him down into a seated position on the mattress, and Blake let his body yield to it. Sarceda crouched down and began to untie Blake's shoes, slowly and methodically.
"I will take you apart," he said, quietly. "Piece by piece. Until you don't remember who you are, or who you were, or why you exist, except for my pleasure. I will break you into a thousand fragments, and remake you, only to be my plaything. I will have no mercy on you until you ask my permission before every breath; until the only sound on your lips is my name."
"What an agenda," said Blake, trying to pretend that he hadn't just shuddered. "Do you plan to accomplish all that tonight? You must be quite efficient."
Sarceda rose to his feet, rolled his neck, then hauled back and slapped Blake across the face.
The whole side of his head stinging and throbbing, Blake gave Sarceda a dangerous look. But it had no power behind it, and they both knew. Blake was helpless. His shoulders ached. He squirmed against the ropes, but it was no use - Sarceda obviously knew what he was doing when it came to knots.
"Apologize," he ordered, holding Blake's jaw in a vise grip.
Blake swallowed. "Fuck off," he gritted out.
Sarceda's face relaxed into a smile. "That's right," he said. "Don't respond to pain. Just like they taught you." He let go of Blake's face, kneeling back down and finishing the job of removing his shoes and socks. "All the time and energy they expend, teaching you boys not to respond to pain. How much did they torture you, in the name of making you into something more than human? And it never occurred to them to try and make you immune to pleasure."
He stood, stroking the top of Blake's head as if he were a housecat. "Don't worry," he said. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll remember what it means to feel pain the way the rest of us do."
"I admire your confidence," said Blake, softly. Sarceda's blunt fingernails were gently scratching his scalp now, just the way he liked. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins was beginning to dissipate, leaving him with a strange sense of calm. He felt a warm feeling spreading through his chest.
"You should know that I don't like being lied to," said Sarceda, stepping back and slipping out of his jacket. He stripped down to the waist methodically as he spoke. "But, I do appreciate what you were trying to do. Letting me believe this won't be your first time with a man. Teasing me with the possibilities. Very cute. But unnecessary." He undid his belt and slipped it out of his trousers, taking both ends and looping it around in one hand while caressing it with the other. "Do believe me when I say that there's no possibility of you turning me on any more than you already do."
"Thank you," said Blake. "That's very kind."
The belt came down and hit the mattress with a loud thwack, inches from his skin. Blake couldn't stop himself from flinching.
Sarceda laughed suddenly, tossing it aside. "No, I won't punish you that way. Not tonight." He knelt down by Blake's feet again. "Close your eyes."
Blake obeyed.
"It's been a long mission, hasn't it?" Sarceda's voice was soft and lilting. "Long and hard. You've hardly had any time to think about anything other than work. You've been so focused on your job that you probably haven't even taken any time to pleasure yourself recently. Am I right?"
Blake grinned. "You are terrible at this," he said. But he didn't open his eyes.
"Do you remember the last woman you were with? The smell of her hair? The way she tasted? Did she scream your name? Did she even know your name?" Sarceda was slowly tracing the lines and contours of Blake's body with a single finger, a light touch that brought goose bumps to rise on his skin. "I know everything there is to know about you. This is going to be the most intimate sexual encounter of your life, Randal Blake."
"I certainly hope you can live up to your own hype," Blake replied. There was a strange tingling sensation growing at the base of his spine, and he didn't like it one bit.
"I'm sure I won't have any trouble making you beg for my attention tonight," Sarceda said. "I've made absolutely certain of that."
Blake's jaw clenched.
"What was in the food?" he asked, quietly.
Sarceda laughed.
Blake's eyes popped open. "What...was in...the food?" The tingle was growing into a throb, and it was relocating to his groin. Sarceda had a growing bulge in his own trousers.
"Don't worry," he said. "It's nothing dangerous."
Blake could feel his dick beginning to stir. No, no, no. It was one thing to be bound and teased and assaulted like this, but it was quite another to have control over his own response taken away from him. Sarceda was right. Nothing in his training had prepared him for this.
He forced himself not to outwardly panic, although drops of sweat were already trickling down the sides of his face. He felt too hot for his pants, too hot for his skin. He was hard as a fucking rock now and he needed to fuck something so badly he couldn't see straight.
"You see?" said Sarceda, with a wild grin. "I told you. I told you."
"Anyone can inspire a hard-on with the help of some chemicals," Blake replied. His voice sounded strained, even in his own ears. "I hope you're proud of yourself."
Sarceda laughed again, on the edge of hysteria. He fumbled in his pockets, finally producing a long leather strap, then dropping to his knees and unzipping Blake's pants. Blake couldn't stop the sigh of relief that came out of his mouth as his cock sprung free.
"Beautiful," Sarceda breathed, taking the strap and securing it tightly around the base, and his balls. "Now, you can't come until I want you to. How does that make you feel?"
"Fantastic," said Blake, through gritted teeth. He was throbbing so hard he thought he might actually pass out. He looked down at his leaking cock; it was huge and purple, angry-looking, the veins standing out in sharp relief.
"Wonderful. I'm so glad you're enjoying this." Sarceda dipped down and gave him one long, slow lick, from base to tip. Blake jumped, making an embarrassing noise in the back of his throat.
"Feels just like a woman's tongue, doesn't it?" Sarceda lowered his head once more, engulfing Blake's cock in his mouth and bobbing down, then swirling his tongue around the head a little before releasing him. "It really is all the same in the dark, I assure you. Why do you think I wanted you to close your eyes?"
Blake's mouth felt like a desert, his whole body numb, consumed with the need for release. He didn't think it was possible to be this horny. All he could think about was the warm, wet feeling of Sarceda's mouth,
the softness of his tongue, and the firm press of it against the sensitive underside of his aching cock. He wanted more. Needed it.
Sarceda stood. "Poor thing," he said, unzipping his own trousers and pulling his prick out, stroking it long and slow. "I think I know what you need."
Blake fixed him with a baleful stare. Every breath was labored now, and his traitorous body was screaming for Sarceda's attention. To make matters worse, he was pretty sure he knew exactly what Sarceda thought he needed - and the thought of it sent a tingle to a different part of his body altogether.
"Stand up," Sarceda ordered. Blake did, and the other man quickly stripped him of his pants and underwear. Sarceda's eyes roved Blake's body, drinking him in.
"On the bed. On your knees. Now." He followed after, pushing Blake over so that his face was in the bedclothes and his ass was in the air. "Yes. Yes. That's how I like to see you."
With one hand on either side of Blake's ass, he spread the cheeks apart, and to his horror, Blake heard himself moan into the sheets. Sarceda's thumb pressed against the tight pucker of muscle that wouldn't stop tingling in anticipation of something Blake never knew he wanted.
"Has anyone ever touched you here?" Sarceda whispered.
"No," Blake muttered, his hips bucking of their own accord. He felt the push of Sarceda's thumb beginning to slip inside him, stretching him open in the most intimate of ways. He groaned, unsure if he was feeling pain or pleasure or relief or some mixture of the three.
"Mmm." Sarceda laid a hand on the small of his back, under his bound wrists stroking him there soothingly. "So tight. Relax for me, Blake. I know you want this as much as I do."
Blake wanted to say something in return, something devastatingly clever, but he couldn't think with Sarceda's thumb buried in his ass. It moved in and out of him slowly. Blake vaguely remembered hearing somewhere that there was some ridiculous number of nerve endings inside the ass, but he'd never really understood it until now. Every push and pull of Sarceda's thumb was igniting sensations he'd never thought himself capable of.
"So many men spend their whole lives without ever experiencing this," Sarceda whispered. "What a shame. What a crying shame. For someone like you...to die without having felt this? Unthinkable. And in your line of work, Mr. Blake, you might die any day. You're awfully lucky you met me."
Blake was too lost in the sensations to even begin to consider any sinister implications in what Sarceda had just said. He moaned and writhed, vaguely aware that Sarceda was slipping another finger inside of him, and then another, until he was stretched so far open that he didn't even notice at first that Sarceda had replaced his fingers with his dick.
By the time he realized how much wider it felt, how much deeper it was going, it had bottomed out and nudged his prostate and he forgot to notice anything at all. Sweating and cursing, he pushed back, hungry for it, no longer capable of feeling anger or shame. Sarceda's fingers were a bruising grip around his waist, pulling him back against each thrust with more force than Blake himself could muster, without the leverage of his arms.
His balls were drawn tight against his body, his full cock slapping against his belly with each movement. But with the little leather band tied so tightly around both of them, he couldn't come. Sarceda was right. He could actually feel it constricting him, holding his body back from its natural reflex.
"You know," Sarceda grunted, his hips jerking harder and faster, "it would be a real shame if I had to leave your lovely package all tied up like that. It's cutting off your circulation. You can't feel it yet, but pretty soon, you will. They do something like this when they castrate farm animals. I'd hate to see you lose your masculinity over a misplaced sense of pride."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Blake muttered, his voice muffled in the sheets.
Sarceda reached down and tugged on one of the ends of the strap. "If you beg me to let you come before I finish, I'll untie you," he said. "If not...I'll be forced to leave you like this."
Blake normally liked to evaluate threats with a clear head, cool and calculating, but that simply wasn't an option. Sarceda was some sort of sexually-obsessed madman, and he sounded like he meant what he was saying.
And there was, of course, the fact that Blake had never been more desperate to come in his life. The need had completely taken over his body, and unlike traditional methods of torture, he was finding it impossible to dissociate, to separate from the situation and figure out what to do as an impartial observer.
Sarceda was thrusting faster now. Sparks flew behind Blake's closed eyes with every deep thrust. He didn't have much longer.
There was no shame in a small surrender, was there? Especially not if it allowed Sarceda to believe that his plan was working?
"Please," he muttered.
Sarceda slowed in his movements. "What's that?" he whispered. "I couldn't quite hear you." He grabbed the rope where Blake's wrists were bound, pulling him up so that his torso was horizontal to the mattress.
"Please," Blake said, louder. "Please let me come."
"Say it again," Sarceda growled, picking up his pace. "Say it until it's over."
"Please," Blake choked out. "Please. Please. Please." He chanted in time with every thrust, until he finally felt Sarceda's fingers fumbling with the leather tie. A moment later, Sarceda's cock hit him deep and Blake yelled something unintelligible as bone-numbing pleasure ricocheted through his body. The first shot of his come bypassed the bed entirely, flying out with such force that it hit the wall behind the headboard. The rest of them thoroughly painted the sheets underneath him, and he collapsed in the mess when Sarceda let him fall. He felt Sarceda's cock swell inside him just before his hips stuttered a few more times, and then it was over.
Blake wasn't aware of much else until he felt the ropes around his arms begin to loosen. He lay still, forcing his sluggish brain to attempt to come up with a plan of escape. But even if he could make his muscles cooperate in a fight against Sarceda, where would he go?
No, this was not the opportune moment.
He groaned when his arms were finally loose, returning his arms to their natural position and sending waves of pain through every muscle in his shoulders and upper back. Sarceda massaged them slowly, making soft, soothing noises. After a few minutes he flipped Blake over, gently, and tilted a drink of water into his mouth.
More and more, Blake was beginning to believe that his best course of action was simply going along with it. With everything. He had no hope of escape, and his people would already be looking for him by now. He would be found. The only question was when. But in the meantime, if he allowed Sarceda to believe that his plan was working, it would put him off his guard. And if the opportunity to escape came later, well...
Sarceda got up and helped Blake to his feet, leading him into the adjoining bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" he said, turning on the shower and nudging Blake to step under the steaming water.
"I don't need your help," Blake muttered, resentfully.
Sarceda just chuckled and picked up a washcloth.
Blake closed his eyes and stood stock-still as Sarceda washed him, slowly, the cloth gliding over every inch of his skin. When Sarceda's fingers buried themselves in his hair, rubbing his scalp as they massaged the shampoo in, he had to remind himself that this wasn't supposed to feel good. But he allowed himself a tiny groan of pleasure, because it suited his purposes if Sarceda believed he was forgetting himself.
When he opened his eyes again as the tap shut off, his gaze was drawn to the upper left corner of the room. There appeared to be natural light coming in.
Yes. A window.
It was very tiny and very high on the wall, far out of reach, but it was a window. Blake's mind began to race. There was a chance. It was vanishingly slim, but it was a chance.
He forced himself to look away before Sarceda noticed. He could hatch his plan later, when he was alone. Assuming Sarceda left him alone. But surely he had other important things to do b
esides nurturing Blake's dependence on him. The man ran an army, after all.
Once he was dried, Sarceda led him back out to the bedroom. The sheets had been changed, and there was a fresh set of clothes laid out on a nearby chair. "For tomorrow," Sarceda said, when he saw Blake's eyes flick in that direction. "You'll sleep naked from now on."
"Of course," said Blake, sitting on the edge of the bed. He couldn't even make sense of the way his body felt - sore, invaded, yet somehow completely satisfied and relaxed in a way that he'd never experienced before in his life.
"I'll be back to see you tomorrow," said Sarceda, pulling his own clothes back on. "Get some rest in the meantime." And with that, he was gone, letting Blake have another glimpse of the hired guns as the door opened and closed again.
The window in the bathroom was conveniently across from the toilet, so Blake sat there for a little while, planning his next move, staring at the tiny hole in the wall. If the other bathroom was any indication, there would be cameras here too. So he had a few seconds, at most, to make his move. His eyes drifted to the wicker hamper in the corner. That would do to provide him the leverage he needed to grab the sill, but he'd need a heavy object to break it with as well.
But Sarceda was no idiot. He'd cleared the room of anything heavy or breakable, and Blake finally decided he'd have to wrap his hand in a towel and hope for enough leverage to break the glass.
Taking a deep breath, he stood, flushed for show, then grabbed a small towel and slung it over his shoulder. In one swift movement, he leapt onto the hamper and pushed off, launching himself far up enough the wall to just barely grab the bottom sill with his fingertips. Condensation had made it slippery and he almost lost his grip as he struggled, but didn't quite, fighting through the pain and exhaustion in his muscles to try and pull himself higher.
Bound and Bent: Ten Tales of Serving Him Page 2