7. Tristan

SEVEN

Tristan

I don't know how to feel about yesterday. I don't really like that Dante required me to get waxed. It didn't hurt as much as I expected, but it was so fucking invasive. I mean, it was everywhere .

Having Kenzie take me out for a burger afterwards, my meal choice, hardly made up for what I'd been subjected to. Even though I did agree to it.

Honestly, the worst part was feeling so out of place. That place was for rich people. I didn't belong there.

I've gotta say, though, now that it's done, I can't deny that I kind of like it. At first, it just felt weird. But when I woke up this afternoon, I couldn't stop touching myself. Not just my cock but everywhere. I couldn't believe how fucking smooth everything was. And the sensations were more intense when I jacked off.

I can feel the difference even in my sweats. When I get home from my evening jog, I'll probably jack off again.

I don't know why I'm so horny. I've never been like this. Well … not until Dante. And nothing has even really happened. But I know it's going to, and it's like my body is staying constantly ready for it.

But I can't quite imagine the circumstances. Will I find him waiting for me some night after work? Or is he going to come pick me up like, I don't know, a date?

Somehow, I can't quite picture either of those scenarios, but, I mean, what else would he do?

I'm worried about it being awkward. Well, about me being awkward. Most of the time, I put on one act or another, like a mask, but that doesn't seem to work with Dante.

With him, I'm more … me , I guess, but that means he's gonna see how inexperienced I am. I won't know what to do.

I reach my cool-down stretch and slow to a walk. It's not dark yet, but it's getting there.

I'm walking alongside a neighborhood park when a limousine pulls up to the curb ahead of me. It's a small one but still clearly a limo. This is not the neighborhood for it. That thing is gonna get stripped if they leave it here.

I'm used to minding my own business, however, so I don't look at it as I start to walk by, not even when I hear a window roll down.

Then a female voice says, "Tristan."

I nearly jump out of my skin. "Shit! Kenzie. What the hell?"

"Get in the back."

I eye the posh car then glance down at my ratty blue t-shirt, gray sweats, and worn-out running shoes. I don't belong in that car.

"I'm sweaty," I tell her.

"No shit. You always run that far?"

"Creeper."

She grins. She is just cool as a fucking cucumber, isn't she? She has one hand on the wheel. The other is down at her side. Somehow, I wouldn't be surprised if she has a weapon. She should, really, with that limo in this neighborhood. It won't be long before the guys shooting hoops head this way.

Kenzie knows it too because her eyes flick past me to check on them. Someone whistles. Her mouth firms. Her eyes lock on me, kind of like Dante's. Unlike Dante's, they trigger no visceral reaction in me. That's more what I'm used to. I don't know what it is about him.

Even so, when she tells me again to get in, I do it.

Needless to say, I've never been in a limo before. There's only the one seat but lots of leg room. Below the partition separating the back from the driver, there's a cabinet-like compartment. In a cup holder, a bottle of water is sweating like it's been waiting awhile.

Kenzie's voice comes through a speaker. "The water's for you."

It's almost like she knew I wouldn't drink it if she didn't specifically tell me that I could. I may steal, but I never assume something's meant for me. There's a big difference.

I crack open the water and suck it down. Despite the sweat on it, it's still cool. I want to ask Kenzie where we're going. I want to know why she picked me up like this instead of from my apartment.

Something about the partition, however, keeps me quiet. It's like I'm in a totally separate space. Maybe someone else would like it, feel privileged or something. I just feel weird. Besides, I don't know if she can hear me or if there's some button I'd have to push. I don't like fumbling around and feeling dumb.

Is she taking me to another appointment? I hope she takes me home first so I can change. We're less than a mile from my apartment.

I yawn.

Shit, I'm sleepy. That's unusual for me after a run. Besides, on my schedule, it's still early.

I hit the window button, thinking some fresh air would wake me up. The button doesn't work. I slide over to the other side. That one doesn't work either.

Rather, it's locked. I try to catch Kenzie's eye in the rearview mirror, but she's focused on the road. My heart skips, but sluggishly. I feel its slow, heavy thud.

"Kenz …" I trail off as my head falls back. My eyes try to close. My body is heavy. My arms are dead weights at my sides. The empty water bottle tumbles from my slack grip.

That's the last thing I see.

* * *

The first thing I register when I wake is that I'm aroused as hell. Before I even open my eyes, a soft moan slips out. The next thing I register is an unfamiliar sense of fullness. Of pressure. In my ass. Then I realize my wrists and ankles are bound, my body spread-eagled. My eyes fly open.

I'm in a softly lit room. A bedroom. I'm on the bed. Its frame is black, like cast iron. It's basically a four-poster, but the canopy is iron bars, kind of like monkey bars. There are hooks and other attachments on some of them.

I rise up as much as I can. The movement shifts whatever is in my ass.

"Fuck!" I bark as arousal spikes through me.

I'm naked. My cock is hard.

Those facts take so much of my attention that I don't really look around. I flop back. I pull against the restraints. I strain upward, but that only makes the feeling in my ass more intense. I've never felt anything like it.

Fear is skittering around inside me, but the arousal is more powerful. I close my eyes and try to get control of myself.

I'm bound to a bed. I need to figure out where I am. I need to figure out what's going on.

I open my eyes again. I'm in a bedroom of some kind. I can't see much detail because the only lights are small, dim ones in the frame of the bed.

I cry out as whatever is in my ass starts vibrating. I yank against the bonds and strain upward, but that only makes me gasp and moan as the vibration hits me deeper.

It stops. I collapse, whimpering and shaking. I hear a sound like mmmm . I freeze. Then I hear Dante's dark, deep voice say, "You're so beautifully responsive."

I rear up as much as I can, gritting my teeth against the surge of arousal as the thing inside me shifts. Breath raking furiously though my lungs, I try to peer through the dimness. He's sitting in a chair in the corner. All I can see is the vague shape of him, but he's relaxed. Comfortable.

"What the fuck, you fucking psycho! Let me go!"

"Mmm, you know there's only one way that happens."

Only one way …? What the …?

Holy shit. He means the safe word. It almost bursts from my mouth, but instead I shout, "Fucking let me go, you insane asshole!"

He doesn't answer. He rises from the chair and walks toward me, emerging bit by bit from the shadows. He's wearing a black t-shirt and black warmups. His cock is tenting them. My mouth waters at the sight. It's not like I've never seen another guy with a hard-on, but this …

Him …

I lift my gaze to his face. He's so damn beautiful he's like some kind of fallen angel—or devil. His eyes are dark pools. His lips are pressed firmly together.

He sits on the edge of the bed near my right hip. I feel the dip of the mattress. I feel the heat of his nearness. I feel the threat of him—and the promise.

His right hand settles on my thigh. I jump at the touch. Then his hand glides up, sending electrical sparks through my blood. I start panting as his fingers near my groin. I make a sound I barely recognize as my own when his fingertips brush my balls.

"One word," he says huskily as his hand slips between my legs, "and everything stops."

I feel his fingers against the rim of my stuffed ass then—

"Ahh! Fuck! Hnnnh! " I descend into wordless moans as whatever has been inside me is removed knob by knob. I'm left gasping and panting and empty. My hole clenches on nothing.

I lift my head and glare at Dante. In his right hand, he's holding the dildo that was inside me. It's a black rod made of a sequence of progressively larger, round beads. It glistens in the low light, slick with lube.

I should be thinking about how all this started. The sequence of events between Kenzie picking me up off the street and now. But I'm not thinking about any of that. All I can think about is how empty I am and how much I need that thing back inside me.

When its starts vibrating, shivering in the air and making a humming sound, I glance at Dante's other hand and spot the remote. But the dildo draws my eyes again. I watch it lower toward my groin. I'm staring down the length of my own body, so I see clearly how my abs are clenched. I see the trail of precum glistening across my lower belly. I see my cock hard as fuck, the tip flared and dark.

The dildo moves beyond my line of sight, vanishing between my legs. I cry out when it vibrates against the underside of my balls. I make the filthiest fucking sound I've ever heard when it touches my hole. I lift as the first bead pops in. Then another. And another.

I bite my lip as they pop slowly out. Then in again. Further this time. Deeper. My hole stretches to take the larger beads.

I'm so fucking glad that I'm bound because I would never have accepted this. I would never have been able to say yes to something like this. I would have felt so fucking self-conscious trying to yield to it. But Dante has relieved me of that burden.

That doesn't mean I'm not furious.

"You fucking psycho," I grit out as his hand finally— finally —curls around my desperate cock.

He chuckles darkly and gives me a slow stroke. His hand glides. I've been lubed in advance.

"You undressed me," I accuse.

"Yes."

"You drugged me."

"Mm, yes."

He massages the underside of my cockhead with his thumb. For a while, I just pant and let the sensations burst through me. Then I gasp, "You put that thing in me while I was unconscious."

He's staring at my cock, seeming to study it. If he didn't look so enthralled, I would feel self-conscious of his attention. No one has ever looked at me, not any part of me, like he does.

"You made wonderful little sounds. And it was beautiful to watch you harden. Your body is incredible, Tristan."

"This isn't right," I say, compelled to point it out.

His dark eyes meet mine at last and he says, "Who cares?"

At that, I'm stumped. Stalled. But then I don't have time to think about it anymore because the vibration intensifies in my ass. I arch, thrusting my cock through Dante's grip.

He doesn't stroke me, but he keeps closing his hand at the top so my cockhead hits the resistance before punching through. The vibration goes up a notch.

Now I'm moaning and screaming as my hips snap up again and again. Every time they do, the dildo hits something inside me that make the world nearly explode. I know it must be my prostate. I've heard it feels good, but oh my fucking god, I had no idea.

"That's it," Dante murmurs as his other hand grips my balls.

I cry out hard and loud as my orgasm seizes my body. I feel the pulse and strain deep inside me. I feel the release pump from my balls through my cock. Hot cum splashes onto my abs and chest and even my face.

" Hnnnn! " I keep vocalizing as I strain. " Fu—hnnnn! "

"Oh, good boy," I hear as I collapse, gasping and shuddering through the aftershocks. My mind is shattered. I can't think.

I cry out as the dildo is removed bead by bead. I'm left empty and exhausted, and I sink quickly into oblivion.