My months in heaven, his in hell

To All Readers: November is national novel writing month, December nation novel editing month. I'm sorry, but please expect few (read: none to two) updates during this time, as I will be working on another piece. Thank you for understanding. -lff

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His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, his body pretending to be relaxed. It was the clenched jaw that told me he had something to say.

"Something on your mind?"

He remained completely still except for his lips. "Several things," he said, and his voice approached cheeriness. "One," his head swiveled to an uncomfortable angle that I felt in my own neck, "My dad's gonna find me. He served in the army for more than twenty years, he can do it, or he can find people who can." This was obviously supposed to scare me. When it didn't, the kid tried for a twisted, insane leer. It looked cute on his little face, though it did make him look a little ill. "You picked me up on the only direct route to campus, the one I take every morning, ridiculously early. Delivery men are most of the handful of people up at that hour. You'll be one of the first people he looks at. And when he has the cops haul you in for questioning- you won't have an alibi."

I smiled serenely at him. "What was number two?"

He smiled back and said conversationally with only a little strain in his tone, "I really have to pee."

I my smile widened as I fetched the catheter.

"What is that?" he squeaked.

"How you're going to pee," I explained, grabbing his cock.

"Why can't I," he jerked his hips, trying to escape my grip, "just use a bathroom?"

"You haven't earned the right to a bathroom yet. Keep squirming like that and this is going to hurt." He lay still. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the myriad of grimaces dance across his face as I fed the tube in. This was just too precious. I'd have to buy a sound for him. I had it almost all the way in, so I drew it out, and eased it back in, enjoying the show. His fists and stomach clenched, his neck strained. Back out, then pushed carefully back in. "Uncomfortable?" He remained as still as he could manage, all his energy focused on managing the sensation. "I'll take that as a 'no, more please.'"

"No! It is, it's uncomfortable."

"Ah," I finished inserting it and he sighed in relief as the catheter stopped fucking him and relieved him. "And by the way, pet, I know the police are going to haul me in. But here's the deal: no one saw you walking into my warehouse. That van is parked there three or four random mornings every week; by the time the police get around to questioning people about me, no one will be able to remember if I was there the morning you disappeared. They'll haul me in, yeah, and I won't give them an alibi. Not until they say the magic words, 'we saw what you did to that body. How-'"

"Body?!" he paled.

I fiddled with the tube and then yanked it out of his penis. As I emptied, washed, and stored the thing, I explained. "Sure, kid, what did you think was in that bag that weighed so much? Did you think you were the first? No one traced me to him, either. Like they won't to you. Because when they bring up a body, I'll get all frightened, and admit, 'Okay, okay, I was with a hooker.' And then they'll check, and she'll confirm it, and they'll let me go." I ambled over to his table. "You're mine. Forever," I whispered into his ear. I drew back in disappointment when he pretended not to hear. "I suppose you're hungry by now, too."

His eyes flashed open, dread in them. It took me a moment to understand what the problem was. After all, food was probably the most normal thing here. Then I got it. I smiled angelically. "Because I've got the feeding tube ready. I'd love to see you gagging on it on the way down." I winked at him. He blanched. My poor pet was too ignorant to have survived in the outside world.

"No! I mean, no I'm not hungry, thanks."

I chuckled, "Seriously, though, I'm going for some fast food. What do you feel like?"

He tried to hide the grin that flashed across his face.

"You're dad's not that good that me buying more food's going to lead him here," I drily patronized.

"That's what you think. I'll be free of you very soo-" the ringing slap snapped his head to the side. He blinked up at me, confused.

"I don't care what your dad does, but you'll do well to remember: you enjoy this."

I reached forward and wrapped my fist around his cock and gave it a good pump. He fidgeted a little, but didn't fight me as I fisted him. "See how hard you're getting for this? Now, say my name." I shifted my hand and moved it again.
He swallowed a gasp. "I don't." He gulped in air, trying to keep his voice regular, even as his swelling dick betrayed his interest. "I don't know your name."

"It's Dave."

"Dave," he stated, sounding maddeningly calm. I pumped him a few more times.

"Again."

"Daaave," he moaned, and turned his head away in shame. Delicious. I kept touching him.
And touching him. And touching him. He twisted, he writhed, he moaned. He reacted. But he didn't come. I stroked him, spat in my hand to keep it pleasurable, and rubbed him some more. After several minutes I released his dry, chaffing cock in disappointment. "What's wrong, pet?"

"I don't want this."

"You enjoy it."

"No! No, I don't! You murderer! Rap-"

I slapped him, waited for him to recover and then slapped him again. "What was my one big rule? At least. Pretend. You enjoy this." I slapped him again, but that half grin fighting its way on his face said he thought me weak. I stomped away, snatched up the nipple clamps, and took a deep breath. "We were going to play nice today pet," I said, concealing my hands from his view, "but you're just too stubborn for that still, so," I clipped one strong alligator clamp into place. He grunted, tossed and turned. He stilled as his grunts faded into soft pants. I grinned, letting my hand hover over the second nipple, watching how taunt all his muscles had become, how rigid his body could be in mere seconds. Lightning fast, I attached the second. He hissed this time before the panting began. "Oh, sorry, were you still a little tender from yesterday?" I tugged on a nipple just to watch him jump. He didn't disappoint.

His eyes shut as he fought the sting of the clamps. He'd calm down in a second. I glared down at his body and his softening cock, thinking. When his eyes opened and stared numbly into mine, I had it.

"Which hand do you masturbate with?"

His eyes remained stationary as he slowly shook his head. It wasn't a no, it was a refusal to answer. I know I hadn't broken him, not yet, so he was tired and in need of a little goading.

"It's not a yes or no question."

"Left," he whispered, all the energy gone from his voice. I dug out the necklace the key hung on and unlocked the left hand cuff. To his wide eyes, I said, "I'm sure you can put two and two together."

Cautiously, his hand slid down his body. Just before it reached his cock, I wrapped my hand around his wrist. He looked at me inquisitively. "You will think of me, say my name, with every little wave of pleasure." I released him and stood back to watch.

His hand trembled as he clenched and unclenched it around his limp dick. It was kind of sad to watch. He shut his eyes tight, and played his fingers over it lightly. "Maybe if I could move one of my legs?" he asked the ceiling. I unfastened the one farthest from me. He raised his knee, shifted around, and stroked himself. His penis struggled to attention. "Daaave," he moaned softly, his hips jerking involuntarily. He brushed his fingers across a nipple and moaned my name again. I fell into my chair and unzipped my fly. His eyes flew open at the noise.

Before I could register what was happening, he sat up, unfastened the other ankle, and sprinted for the nearest door. Knowing what that door led to, I took my time zipping up my pants, gave a passing glance at the torn wrist restraint, and imagined how those clamps must be pulling on his nipples, jolting and swinging deliciously heavily with every step.
I stepped through the door to see him running back towards me. He stopped, aware that he was trapped in this walk-in freezer which I now used to store bigger equipment. He didn't even put up a fight as I grabbed his arms and tugged them behind his back. "If you wanted to be in the freezer so much," I whispered into his ear, "you could've asked. I was more than happy to oblige you an ankle, now..." I tightened my grip on his wrists and marched him over to the separator bar and jammed both his legs into it. His eyes were wide with fear. Good. Fear sears things into the mind; he wouldn't forget this.

I walked over to the thermostat. "It's 65 in here. You cold?" He offered me a cautious nod. "Good." I cranked the dial until it hit 45. Then I walked straight past him and out the door, relishing his trembling and shocked face: he was afraid I was just going to leave him in here to freeze. I was only grabbing a camera. I set it up so he was visible from his pale face to his cold, standing nipples, to his forcibly spread legs. "Have fun, pet." Once I had the overhead light set so it would stay on with the door closed, I left.

At first he just stood there, looking a bit shocked that I'd actually left him in the freezer. Then he sat down and tugged at the spreader bar. I'd locked it of course. I stuck my head in the freezer, "Stand up or I'll chain you up!" and went back to watching. He fidgeted, glanced at the camera, gulped, and then smoothed his palms over his nipples, trying to flatten them back down, despite the cold and the clamps that he didn't dare remove. They jutted out proudly even though he repeated this several times. His cock had even started stirring to attention. From my chair, I commanded, "Tug on the chain." He looked up at the door, and gave the chain one, quick hard tug and groaned when it pulled at his nipples. His hand snapped away from the chain like it burned, but his cock was growing.

After that, he seemed afraid to move his hands near his nipples. He covered his cock with his hands, trying to warm it and his balls. "Move your hands!" I yelled. He swept them away, and stood shivering, his nipples standing proud while his balls hugged his body tightly. I let him stand and shiver for a good half hour, admiring the goose bumps and how his erection faded away in the cold. I let it slide when he crossed his arms in front of his chest. His arms were probably accidentally rubbing against his now incredibly sensitive nipples. When his arms started jerking instead of merely trembling, I knew it was time to get him out. He hadn't move from in front of the camera, so I figured he earned it.

"Have we learned our lesson?"

"Yes."

"What lesson is that, pet?"

"I enjoy what you do to me."

"So what's that mean about trying to escape?"

"I won't."

"You ready to obey me?"

"Yes."

"Let's test that theory, shall we?" I swept up a curved bar from the floor and nodded for him to follow me out of the freezer. "Get down on all fours." He did. I reached between his legs from behind and pulled his balls back to where I could snap them into the humbler. "Having this on means you can't stand up: it'll pull on your balls if you try to straighten your legs, you understand?"

He whimpered; I took it as a yes. From the table I fetched a pair of hand cuffs and locked his wrists behind his back.
"Suck me." He shuffled awkwardly on his knees, starting to rise up on to them. And jerked back down. I looked into his pained eyes and felt glee. "Need some more equipment," I muttered and retreated to the back room.

There, I watched the footage from the cameras live. He immediately crawled over to the door and tried to reach up his wrists behind his back to the door knob. No luck. Then he went back to trying to stand. This time, he cautiously straightened his legs, slowly putting more pressure on his balls, slowly rising up towards the door knob. With a whimper, he dropped back down, inches short of his goal.

After a second to recover, he jerked himself up, and on his fall back down his hand knocked against the knob. But he lay there, whimpering, unable to take advantage of his brief moment of almost-victory. I sat and watched him press his face against the floor, his butt wiggling in the air as he gasped and waited to try again.

His third attempt started slowly crushing his balls, slowly rising up. He stopped, adjusting. This lunge missed completely and had him yelping and sending skittish glances back towards the door. That tempting ass moved with his gasps for breath. I couldn't wait any longer. I strode through the door, waddling with an erection more than hard enough to fuck my liar of a pet the instant I reached him.

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Wayward:
Oh, bookmarked! I like the sound of that! Thank you, thank you!
You've rather got me pinned. I have written other stories, but this is the most daring thing I've written, by far, and, for the most part, my other stories are not the type that belong on aff.net (and those that are do not approach the quality of this piece). Sorry, you'll only be getting new stuff!
Oh, you nailed the character too- military brat. For many of us, everyone's a sir or a ma'am if they can kill a person. :) Not usually how I think of it, but there you go. Though you've a point about him being a little too knowledgeable about how to act, sub-wise.
My very limited (and accidental) experience with hot wax was the basis of that chapter. I decided the moment that wax hit my skin that it was painful and I didn't want to ever repeat the experience, and I expressed this sentiment, "Gaa-AAAh!" So, maybe he was TOO sensitive. I'll have to keep that in mind, thank you.
I'm with you on the toys thing. Oh boy, am I with you. Any particulars in mind?
Thanks for the constructive crit, reviews don't get better than that!

applegreensea:
Wow, thank you! Here, I thought I was underplaying the main character's insanity. Thank you for the wonderful little reinforcement! And yes, there will be more.

Kale Siguana:
Thank you, thank you!!! I'm actually looking forward to updates, too. Lucky me, though I have to work for it, I have some control over when that happens. Toys are fun- so are suggestions. I'll happily incorprate most, with very few limits.

Lilith:
Thank you for such high praise! Frankly, I'm curious about my plans, too, though there are some.