by Adara Wolf
Finally, he opened the packet containing the catheter. It was an old-fashioned one that was popular in the kink community, which included a long, hollow plastic tube and an inflatable balloon to keep it in place once inserted.
Actually inserting the catheter was a little bit finicky, not helped along by the jittering of Alex’s leg.
“Hold still, Alex, unless you want to add a broken leg to that broken hand.” It was an empty threat, but Alex did settle down.
Tracht held Alex’s cock and slowly fed more and more of the catheter into Alex’s slit, adding lube along the way. Alex grunted and scrunched up his face in pain. “Please, Tracht. Please, I’ll hold it as long as you want me to. Please. I don’t want—”
A rush of arousal washed over Tracht, forcing him to stop for a second while he steadied himself. His own cock throbbed insistently. He could easily stop here and just fuck Alex. That was always an option.
But it wouldn’t do to let Alex think he was in control in any way. The past week of coddling him hadn’t been unpleasant, but enough was enough. Tracht knew the long-term satisfaction would be worth the wait, in any case.
The tube finally wouldn’t go any further. Tracht attached one of the drainage bags to the end of the catheter and unclamped it. Alex cried out and struggled, even going so far as to reach down with his cast-covered arm. Tracht grabbed it and held on while the piss started to drain out of Alex’s body.
“Fffff—Tracht. Tracht. This feels really weird. Please. Please take it out.” Alex’s voice had taken on a high-pitched quality, panicked enough that Tracht wondered if there was a real issue here. He looked up and saw Alex’s face flushed and his chest covered in sweat.
Tracht let go of everything and gently held the sides of Alex’s face. He kissed Alex’s forehead, the corners of his eyes, his mouth. When he pulled away, Alex was crying freely.
“I hate this,” Alex said.
“I love how you look right now,” Tracht answered. He stripped off the gloves and ran his hands over Alex’s body, lingering over his bladder. He stroked circles around Alex’s abdomen and found his own breath coming harder with each whimper Alex released. “You’re completely helpless. Maybe I should blindfold you, muffle your ears, and gag you too. Plug up your ass as well. Then you’d have nothing but the sensation of your piss flowing from you without your control. No getting into trouble just because you couldn’t sit still. No pretending to be altruistic and trying to save somebody else.”
Tracht couldn’t remember if he’d ever bound somebody so completely before. Not with any of his exes. Not with the former bondservants either, because they’d all been fairly boring. He'd seen no point in punishing them to such extremes, when they rarely did anything to merit it.
The trickle of urine into the drainage bag stopped, signaling that Alex’s bladder was empty. “You’re done,” Tracht said. He clamped the catheter shut, then sealed and detached the drainage bag. He placed it on Alex’s stomach.
Alex shook his head and strained against his restraints. “Why do I still feel like I’m pissing? Take it out. Please, take it out.”
“No.” Tracht went through the steps to fill the inflatable balloon, locking the catheter in place. Alex whimpered and shook.
With all that taken care of, Tracht finally allowed himself to unzip his trouser and pull his cock out. That was a relief. He climbed on top of Alex, straddling his shoulders, and dragged his dick across Alex’s face.
“You’re so hot right now,” Tracht said, knowing he shouldn’t be complimenting Alex so much but not caring. It was true, anyway. Tracht couldn’t remember ever being this attracted to anybody. Something about his broken features heightened the effect of the tears. Here was a man who should have been completely hardened, and he was crying because of Tracht.
Precome smeared across Alex’s cheek, mingling with his tears, and if it hadn’t been physically impossible Tracht would have leaned down to kiss him. Instead, Tracht pulled tightly on Alex’s hair, and another wave of arousal washed over him as Alex’s expression contorted into pain.
He played around a bit more, letting his cock touch every inch of Alex’s face, until it was too much. “Open your mouth,” Tracht ordered, pulling on Alex’s hair again. Alex complied quickly, and Tracht slid his cock into the Alex’s warm mouth.
Alex immediately started licking and sucking, even without instruction. It should have annoyed Tracht, but he could only remember how reluctant to do this Alex had once been, and that it was all because of Tracht that he was now sucking cock with faked enthusiasm. Tracht was sure that given a choice, Alex would never take another dick into his mouth again, but that made it even better.
Tracht tightened his grip and slid in further, holding the position just long enough to feel the first convulsions of Alex’s throat around the tip of his penis.
He had one week of Alex not being able to piss without Tracht’s permission. He could already imagine Alex’s pleas and cries, his tantrums and the necessary punishments on top of the already harrowing week. Yes.
All coherent thought fled as Tracht sped up his pace, and then he was coming down Alex’s throat, pulse after pulse of pleasure sparking up his back. Come dribbled out the sides of Alex’s mouth.
Tracht wanted to slide off, but he held his position while his cock softened, until the warmth and gentle sucking of Alex’s mouth got to be too much to bear. He settled himself next to Alex on the bed, and took the time to kiss Alex thoroughly. He’d never particularly enjoyed the taste of come, but there was an appeal to having that taste on Alex’s tongue, to knowing that Alex belonged to him so thoroughly.
Alex was still crying when he pulled away. “It still feels like I’m pissing,” Alex whined. “Please, Tracht. Please take it out.”
If Tracht weren’t though thoroughly exhausted—or if he were still in his teens—he probably would have started getting hard again from that alone. What a shame that Alex’s distress couldn’t be put to good use.
“I like this version of your pain better than from the vids,” Tracht said. He gripped Alex’s chin and kissed him again. “This will hopefully teach you to hold it for longer and not get yourself involved in anything stupid again.”
Alex shook his head and twisted his face away. His entire body was limp, exhausted.
As much as Tracht would have enjoyed leaving Alex tied up, it was impractical. He waited another five minutes to recover his own energy a bit, then he undid the chains.
“Go dispose of the urine, and then come back.”
“I have to? But—”
“Alex. I’m certainly not doing it. And if you complain too much, I might decide to extend this punishment by an extra couple of days.”
Alex scrambled out of the bed, wincing and limping lightly as he gingerly held the drainage bag.
Tracht was half asleep by the time Alex returned. He lifted an arm for Alex to slide into place, and he kissed Alex lightly. From the taste of it, Alex had taken time to wash his face and brush his teeth. He lightly traced the path of Alex’s tears with one finger.
“You didn’t cry for them,” Tracht said, after a moment. “I noticed. I was so mad that they were touching you, making you scream, but you didn’t cry for them like you do for me. Not until—”
Not until the tooth, but given the situation, the involuntary tears were inevitable.
Alex shrugged. “Dunno. Didn’t feel the same.”
No, it wouldn’t. They’d had no finesse, going simply for pain when there were so many different ways to torture somebody. They’d struck upon Alex’s trauma by sheer coincidence, not even realizing that they could have induced a more refined, delicate sort of terror in Alex.
Tracht pulled Alex closer, mindful of the broken hand. “That’s right. You’re mine. Mine to break, mine to mold. Mine to torture, and mine to give pleasure. So don’t ever let anybody get you into that kind of situation again. Is that clear?”
Alex rested his head against Tracht’s shoulder and tangled thei
r legs together.
“Yes, Tracht.”
[END]
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Excerpt from "Under His Heel," also by Adara Wolf
Alex is trapped. His life has been one bad decision after the other, and now he's forced to work off his debt with a spaceship captain or risk a fate worse than death.
Captain Tracht is respected and well-connected. Unfortunately, he also has some very questionable private interests, and makes no secret that he intends Alex to participate in them, whether he likes it or not.
It's an experience of pain, humiliation, and tears, but somehow Alex finds himself growing less and less interested in his eventual release...
If you enjoyed “Under His Heel: A Kidnapping,” you can read how Alex and Tracht got together in “Under His Heel.” This is an extreme dubcon story with a variety of kinks. Please check on my website (http://www.adarawolf.com) for detailed content notes.
===
Alex wanted to slump in his chair, but he had to make a good impression. For now. So he sat up, smiled when it was required, and then shrugged when the other person decided nope, they didn't want to buy Alex after all.
Not that Alex particularly wanted to be bought. But it was the only way to get rid of the debt hanging around his neck like a noose, and if he wanted to get back to his brother he had to suck it up for now. Suck it up, and find a sucker willing to buy the debt.
The next guy who came in was a bit older than the previous set. Those guys had all been young and eager for a servant, but they'd balked at either Alex's looks or the price he was requesting. This new guy had to be in his late thirties at least, probably early forties. He had a touch of gray in his brown hair, and his face was clean shaven. Alex scratched at his own stubbled chin and smiled.
The broker gave a small sigh, probably inaudible to the new customer. There was a hint of disapproval, as if it was Alex's fault that the last few guys hadn't been up to snuff. She did stand up and greet the new customer. "Captain Tracht, hello. What brings you around here again?"
The guy, "Captain Tracht," smiled ruefully. "I had to cancel the previous contract. We were incompatible on a very fundamental level."
Incompatible on a fundamental level? Hmm. Maybe Alex could work with that. A guy who was desperate for a specific type might be willing to pay out the nose for it. "Good afternoon," he said as he stood, and he held out his hand.
Tracht looked down at the hand, then up at Alex's face. Yeah, Alex wasn't the prettiest mofo out there. The scar on his cheek made most kids and a bunch of women recoil in horror, and his nose had healed crookedly after the fist fight he'd gotten into a few months ago. But his eyes were a pretty hazel color, and his badly-cropped hair was that kind of reddish-brown tone that all the women were trying to imitate. Surely there was something there that could be considered halfway decent.
Besides, even if Alex was a butter-face, he knew his body was good. He kept fit, and even through the tank-top he was wearing his ab muscles would be obvious. Not to mention his arms. He resisted flexing.
Tracht was about the same height as Alex, a bit skinnier, though he wore some sort of uniform that made it impossible to tell what was underneath the clothes. After a quick once over, he grasped Alex's hand for the handshake.
"May I see the terms of the contract?" Tracht said to the broker. She hesitated, and Alex almost told the bitch off. But no, he had to be super nice and pleasant during this stage. Later, he could rage all he wanted, but he needed somebody to buy his fucking debt yesterday.
"Um, here's the outline of it, in plain language. If you're interested I'll send the detailed contract over." She passed Tracht the tablet, and he settled down on the guest couch to read. Alex made himself comfortable on the armchair that had been provided for him.
The room was silent while Tracht read over the contract. "It says here you're willing to give up full bodily autonomy for the duration of the contract? That's a fairly serious offer. May I ask why?"
Right. Alex made a show of biting his lip. "I figured I could get the debt paid off faster that way. I don't mind doing whatever somebody requires of me, but I can't be away from home for too long."
It was calculated it perfectly too. At the current level of debt, he had to offer something extreme to get the terms settled down to a manageable five years, rather than a more standard ten or fifteen. Alex thought the ten-to-fifteen might have been okay, but his brother had hammered into him how dangerous that length of time was if things went wrong.
Tracht tapped the contract. "If that was your goal, you might have offered body modifications along with that."
Oh fuck no. Was that what Tracht had been looking for with the previous one? Alex forced himself to keep smiling, even as he internally shuddered. "I need to be able to function in society when I'm released from the contract. Offering body modifications is too risky."
He'd met one girl, once, who had come out of a full body-mod contract. She had a split tongue and was tattooed from top to bottom. The worst part, though, had been her missing pinky, which she said had been extracted from her in punishment for something she'd done. No fucking way.
"I can work with that, I suppose," Tracht said. He kept reading, and Alex saw the broker tap her fingers nervously. Was she nervous on his behalf, or on Tracht's? But she seemed on friendly terms with Tracht, so maybe she thought Alex wasn't good enough.
Whatever. Tracht was pretty soft-spoken. Not weak or lilty or anything like that, just like the dude permanently spoke at a volume just barely above a whisper. Sure, it was a clear voice with a certain kind of confidence in it, but Alex had met his fair share of scary fuckers and he didn't think Tracht could even come close.
Alex started a bit when Tracht cleared his throat. "Can you read, Mr. Stone?"
His full name must have been on the contract, but it felt weird for Tracht to address him by his last name when they were in negotiation for a full-service contract. The other potential buyers definitely hadn't bothered even calling him by name. Alex shrugged to hide his discomfort. "Yeah. Went to school, anyway."
If he had to choose, he'd take vids over text any day – people used big fancy words way too often in writing, and it really frustrated him. Like his full contract, which he'd tried to read when it was getting written out. If his broker hadn't been there to explain it, he probably wouldn't have been able to understand it at all. He’d shown it to his brother too, who filled in the rest of what Alex hadn’t understood.
"Because I'm going to need somebody who can take notes for me. I can easily train somebody to please me sexually, but I don't have the time or patience to teach somebody to read." Tracht's eyes met Alex's in an intense stare that had Alex breaking away just a few seconds later.
"Yeah, I can read and write. I said I could." It took everything he had not to lash out at the broker when she snorted a laugh.
"Read this, please," Tracht said, handing the tablet over to Alex. He'd switched over to a text program, and in large letters it said, I consent to a full body inspection. Alex almost sneered. "What?"
"Read it out loud, please."
He almost didn't. But he'd struck out with the previous four potential buyers, and if he couldn't find somebody to take on his debt, Alex would screwed. Might end up in prison, working off the debt for the next twenty years. Or he might end up having to clear the debt with the people he owed.
He cleared his throat and enunciated, "I consent to a full body inspection."
The broker laughed. "I guess you find him suitable, Captain Tracht?" She took the tablet out of Alex's hands and went to the small cabinet in the corner of the room. "Are there any tools in particular you would like?"
Tracht stood up and approached Alex. After a few seconds, Alex stood up
too, because having Tracht looking down on him was a bit unnerving. They hadn't signed the contract yet. For some reason, though, Tracht smirked.
"Just gloves should suffice, I believe. And you, Mr. Stone, please strip."
Already? Alex looked over at the broker, but she was pulling out the latex gloves and obviously not going to argue that this was inappropriate. Because, right, it wasn't. This was what he was signing on for. It wouldn't be for that long, Alex reminded himself. He'd just have to hold on for a bit.
He pulled the tank top off first, letting it fall to the armchair. This time he did flex his muscles a bit, and he didn't miss the appreciative look on Tracht's face. Good.
And now... the rest. He stepped out of the flip flops, and pulled off his slacks and briefs in one go. No need to prolong this. If Tracht wanted a strip show, he'd have to make it an order. After they'd signed the contract.
Tracht took the thin latex gloves the broker offered him and pulled them on with a loud snap. "Ms. Stiegler, would you pull up his chart and make notes, please?"
Alex couldn't help the scowl. "Notes? What notes?"
"The contract says no body modifications. We are going to note which modifications already exist, so you can't accuse me of breaching contract at a later time." Tracht tapped Alex's scarred cheek. "This, for example. One large scar, badly healed, from right temple down to chin."
The broker typed away on the tablet, and then she took a few pictures too. They repeated the procedure for his nose, the burn scars on his left shoulder, the three scars across his right thigh, and even the small scar on the back of his hand that he'd received from a dog bite when he was a kid.
Alex was starting to sweat a bit, despite being naked, and he felt a flush every time Tracht touched him with his latex-covered hands. He'd never been ashamed of his body before, didn't even usually mind people touching him, but, fuck, this entire situation felt weird. Like he wasn't human, just an animal getting checked over. Tracht even briefly fondled his dick and balls, remarking that he was uncut – and would stay that way, thank you very much – and taking photos.