9

-NORTH-

HE GRABSthe controller and turns the butt plug up to full, and I spasm as the vibration shoots through me straight to my already throbbing dick. I'm so desperate to come that I can't help but flex my hips, thrusting into the open air again for any kind of friction.

He just stands there watching me, drinking in my torture.

"Why did you come here?" he says for the third time.

I don't even try to think before I answer him this time, and the truth spills out of me. "Because I can't stop thinking about you."

He blinks a few times. But he doesn't comment.

"Why did you record me?"

"Because seeing you like that was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen, and I want you to fuck me." It comes out all strangled and desperate, and to my surprise, I sound like I'm about to cry.

His dick is filling again. Is it because of what I said, or does he just enjoy watching me struggle?

"You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes."

"You want me to stretch your hole around my dick, and use you as I please, like the fucktoy you are?"

Fuck, I'm so close to coming. "Please," I say.

"What if I keep you here, tied up on my table, with my plug vibrating inside your greedy hole, just ready and waiting for me whenever I want to play with you? Just a hole for my cock and nothing else. You'd have to wait here all day until I get back from class, until you're dripping and begging for me to use you like a whore. I could tease you and torment you for as long as I wanted. And then maybe I'd take my time to really take you apart bit by bit, until you're screaming. Or maybe I'd just fuck you raw."

"Oh god."

My hips buck again, the plug pulsing against me with every movement.

"Wait," he says. There's a cold smear of something around the base of the plug, then it's pulled from my ass, leaving me clenching on nothing. More cold lube, and I feel his fingers pressing into me. The prep is minimal, and before I can think about that fact that his fingers are in my asshole, they're replaced by something hot and firm pressing between my cheeks. I catch my breath as I realize it's the blunt head of his cock, lining up to impale me. In one slow movement, his dick starts to slide in. It's huge, so much bigger than the plug, and my hole stretches around him, igniting fire across my ass. I yelp. It's not going to fit, he's going to break me apart. He goes slowly, but the steady invasion and resulting stretch doesn't pause until finally he's all the way inside me, and I'm crying out. He's so fucking big, I feel like there's no room in my body for anything but his cock.

"Oh fuck," I pant.

My knees buckle, but he holds me up by my waist as he starts to ram into me, hard enough to bruise. I can't breathe, I can't move, all I can do is take his cock and moan like a fucking porn star as he smashes into my already sensitive prostate as the two days of unrelenting horniness come to a head.

My hands clench behind me, my toes curl. Wild noises erupt from my mouth and fill the air.

"Don't you dare come yet," he growls between thrusts.

But I'm not going to make it, his cock pushes me higher and higher, pounding relentlessly into my sweet spot, and I'm already cresting as my orgasm looms over me, my body rocking, my hole clenching around him.

I'm going to come, I can't hold it, I'm going to—

"Now," he says.

I don't know if it's his permission or just coincidence, but the second the word is out of his mouth I explode. My hips jack, sending ropes of cum up my chest and across the glass. My mind is completely gone, and I moan in wordless bliss as the cock in my ass keeps me going, sending me crashing in wave after wave of bliss, until my body is entirely wrung out and I go limp in his hands.

All too soon he lets me collapse, losing his cock from my ass in the process, and I fall into the puddle of my own cum, smearing it across the glass. So much for not staining it. I roll onto my side, legs splayed, panting, my slick flesh sticking to the cold hard surface. My whole body is heaving, and my mind is floating far away somewhere in a pink cloud.

Through the cloud of bliss, I hear his footsteps recede and return, then his fingers are on my cock. I twitch, pushing my dick blindly into the warmth of his hand as the afterglow still ripples through me. I'm overcome with the urge for him to lie down and throw his arms around me, cuddle me, kiss my trembling lips. But instead of his warm grip, I feel cold metal.

I look down in a haze just in time to see him clicking something over my cock and balls, a twisted cage of fine metal that hugs my dick tightly on all sides.

"What?" I murmur.

"This is to make sure no one gets you off but me. Your cock belongs to me now, and you don't come, you don't even get hard, without my permission."

My mind is moving too slowly to keep up with what's happening, and then, with efficient movements, he locks a tiny padlock on the cage with a key on a chain, and hangs it around his neck. I stare up at him and open my mouth to protest. This wasn't the plan. I came here to get him out of my head, a good fuck to get it out of the system, to cure my strange and sudden obsession with him so I can move on and get back to normal. Not for it to go even further.

For a moment the safeword bubbles up onto my tongue. I should say it, I should end this before it gets even more out of hand. He has my cock in a cage for fuck's sake.

But his dark eyes are watching me for a reaction, and I can read something in them that wasn't there before. Something other than the hard, cold disregard that always lives there, something I want to chase down.

The moment passes. He uncuffs my hands, steps back, and watches as I slowly push myself up. I feel entirely sapped of energy. My head is still spinning.

He tosses a pile of clothes down on the table next to me, and I pick them up before I realize they're not the ones I came in with.

"These aren't mine,'' I say.

It's a top and jeans, similar to mine in style, but they're brand new, still with the tags on.

"Yours were no good," he says shortly. "Wear these."

No good? I unfold the clothes, completely confused. I don't know if I should be offended, pissed off, or grateful. They're well-made, thick and durable, but still soft. They're much nicer than anything I've ever owned. I run my hands over the fabric and look up at him again.

"Thank you," I say.

He stiffens and doesn't say anything.

This is getting weird. Ok, more weird, if that's possible. Now that I've come I feel lost, aimless. I want to go back to my dorm. I pull the clothes on—he's even given me socks and boxers—then pat my pockets.

"I don't have my—"

Before I can finish he holds out my phone. He must have gotten it from my jeans, wherever they are. I want to ask but I'm just too brain fucked, so I grab my bag and head for the door.

He follows me out and on the threshold I pause. We stand for a moment in awkward silence.

"I've put my number in your phone," he says. "The plug is in your bag. I'll message you when I want you to put it in."

I hesitate. It's hot, but he sounds like he's instructing someone on how to dog sit for him—one bowl of kibble in the morning, don't let him hump the furniture.

"Er. Ok," I say. "This was fun, I guess?"

He gives me a tight-lipped nod, like I'm being dismissed. "Wait for my message."

I frown. Do I like being treated like this? Being given terse instructions and expected to follow? My dick tells me I do, but my heart tells me I want something more from him. I'm just not sure what it is.

Or maybe I am, because the next second I'm leaning forward into his space, lips first, going in for a kiss I didn't know was coming.

He jerks back, making a noise that's part startled, part horrified, and I pull up short. I shouldn't be surprised by his reaction, it's already happened once, but it still stings.

Again, I realize that I really don't know anything about Mal. All these strange signals are confusing me; he keeps doing things that would be nice, sweet even, in any other circumstances, but then acting cold. He has the key to my fucking cock cage around his neck, but he won't let me kiss him.

I'm even more confused than I was before I came here. At least before I was certain in the fact that he hated me, and now . . . I just don't know. I sigh. Right now, I'm too tired to try to work out the puzzle that he is. I'm still blissed out, and for the first time in three days I feel like I can actually get some sleep, even with this weird cage on my cock. All I want to do is get back to my dorm and pass out for twelve hours.

I step out of the door as he leans on the frame. The restrictive metal shifts against my new boxers. Boxers he gave me. I came here to put an end to it, and now he has me wearing his clothes, locked in his cage and ready to be filled with his plug at a moment's notice. How did this happen? It's like he owns me already.

As I walk back to my bike, I look over my shoulder at the dark shape of him standing in the shaft of light. He's watching me, and when our eyes meet he purses his lips and looks to the side, like I've just caught him doing something shameful.

What the fuck have I gotten involved in? But I know that when he calls I'll come crawling back on my hands and knees for another taste of his cock. I should be ashamed by that, but I'm too tired. I'll process all of this tomorrow when I have the energy to care.

For now, I need to get back before I pass out. I climb on my bike without looking back, and ten minutes later I'm back at my dorm.

I'm already asleep when my head hits the pillow.