Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
I can’t hear the sound of Angelo’s zipper audibly, but I can feel it somewhere in my stomach. His cock freed, plunged down Bobby’s throat deep and hard enough to bruise. Angelo does not like to be questioned or defied. Bobby’s upstart challenge will not go unanswered.
Muffled sounds are being transmitted through the wall, the sound of what could be a little scuffle, but isn’t. It is the sound of Angelo’s big hand fisted in Bobby’s thick dark hair, Bobby’s head tilted back, his shoulders and heels rubbing against the wall as he struggles to take that dick.
It is hot as hell. I feel my flesh reacting through solid wall, excited by the dominance being demonstrated even at a distance. I have often imagined how these two men interact and now I have the closest thing to a front row seat.
Angelo must be taking his time, thrusting hard, alternately keeping his cock deep in Bobby’s throat and pulling it free to let him breathe. I can hear ragged, intermittent gasps to support my theory.
Then there is a faster, more rhythmic tapping, the back of Bobby’s head against the wall as Angelo fucks his insolent throat to climax. Theres a deep, throaty growl of satisfaction that must mark orgasm, his seed flowing deep inside Bobby’s belly.
I am too scared to touch myself, but this is the hottest thing I have ever heard. It sends electricity coursing from that shamefully excited node between my thighs, zipping through my body. I feel as though I am hearing something I shouldn’t, though I know Angelo could just as easily have dragged his prey away and consumed it elsewhere. He wanted me to hear this through the wall. He wanted me to know how he treats his beloved mate, and I think he wants me to know that I, in all likelihood, am next.
His rough voice rumbles through the wall, too deep and soft to be discernible, but I hear Bobby scramble away a moment later and I know he was dismissed.
The door to my room opens. I take swift steps back, hit the bed and sit down heavily. Pain flares through my rear, and I gasp with the shock of it. I’d almost forgotten the caning while standing stock still, listening to Bobby get his comeuppance instead.
Angelo allows his expression to reflect just the merest hint of amusement at my predicament.
“Lie down,” he says. “It is time to secure you for the night.”
I do as he says, slowly. I cannot lie on my back, and I do not want to lie on my front. I have to hope that he does not intend to shackle me too tightly or I am about to be tortured for the rest of what ever Angelo Vitali determines to be the evening.
He has brought cuffs with him, mercifully wrapped in leather so my wrists and ankles are treated to a firm gripping sensation that extends several inches in each direction rather than a single thin line of metal or worse, plastic as we use in my line of work.
As I lie on my side, allowing myself to become even more captive of this dark and dangerous man, I find my gaze drawn to his crotch. I am looking for some sign that what I imagined just happened, did happen. Maybe his fly is slightly down. Maybe there is a spot of wetness on his pants left by Bobby, maybe a scent of seed.
This is not the behavior of a civilized person, but when in the custody of this man, there is no point in clinging to notions of civilization. He is chaining me down because that is what one must do to keep a wild animal.
The cuffs are attached to chains. They are not large, but I am sure they are strong. He attaches them through rope wound and tied around the iron bars in such a fashion that allows more movement than the situation otherwise would. When he is done, my wrists are attached to the top of the bed, my ankles to the lower part. I can move around a little, but not a lot without running into the hard reminder of the end of my chain.
“Sleep well, Riley,” Angelo purrs. “Your new self will be born tomorrow.”
4
I do not sleep. I do not know what the time is, or how much of it has passed since I was put in this room. I lie down on my stomach to rest a little, but like any captured animal, I am alert. I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to. At any moment, Angelo or Bobby could come through that door and my life could be over. I am not confident that they intend to keep me for long. Angelo could lose interest and leave me to Bobby as entertainment. Anything could happen, and I have to be ready for it.