Chapter 3
Misha
The colorful neon light of the diner was a surreal presence, and Misha couldn’t help but feel like he was watching it on TV. When a whole group of people stumbled outside, laughing and being too loud, his stomach clenched. Just because he was out of the compound, just because Gary was dead, didn’t mean he was free. There were many things in the world much worse than Gary, and Misha wouldn’t be letting his guard down around Grim only because the man was handsome. A pretty face and sweet words meant nothing when Misha knew all too well that Grim was capable of murder.
Another surreal thing about all this was that merely hours after being taken from Gary’s apartment, he was sitting in a booth with a guy that might have been a Tom of Finland model. Dressed in black leather, Grim showed off both the muscle and the harmonious shape of his body, but Misha couldn’t help but look at his face despite feeling uneasy. It was symmetrical and chiseled, as if it came from the hand of a skilled sculptor. The sleek, retro-looking haircut with a side parting only strengthened the impression Grim was making on Misha as he looked at him over the table with piercing grey eyes.
Everything around Misha seemed too loud, too crisp, too easygoing. All these people had no idea what kind of world lived beneath the surface of their society. Every time the waitress walked past them, Misha slid closer to the window, with his heart as jumpy as a baby rabbit .
Misha looked at the menu again, overwhelmed by the choice. For the past four years, he’d eaten whatever he’d been given, so how was he to choose what he was up for?
“Do you have a favorite?” he asked Grim in the end, remembering that Gary was always happy when Misha asked for the same pizza he wanted to have.
Grim leaned back and slurped on his coffee. “You can order whatever you like. A starter, the main, then dessert,” he said with a wide grin. “Do you eat meat?”
Was this a trick question? Maybe behind that handsome fa?ade hid a cannibal? Misha had seen more than he would have wished to in the compound. “Yes, I’m not fussy. You?” Food was really not on Misha’s mind despite the grumbling in his stomach. He needed to know who exactly Grim was, where he wanted to take him, and what he wanted to do to him. The waitress put the silverware in front of Misha, and the knife ended up too close to his forearm, so distracting that he folded a napkin over the blade, which was shiny with the potential for violence.
Grim smiled. “Have you ever seen a cow slaughtered? The other animals in the room cower in the corners, because they know what the screams mean. I don’t eat any mammals, no animals that are like us.”
Misha’s heart skipped a beat despite Grim’s words, and he scolded himself in his mind. Grim was no friend, and the only thing he liked about Misha was the stumps. Not to mention that he was dangerous, ruthless, and Misha needed to get away from him, not check him out. It was baffling that Grim didn’t mind shooting Gary dead but cared about cows being terrified of slaughter. Misha needed to make a note of that. Use whatever information he could get on Grim.
“Fishburger sounds nice.” Misha stared at the menu, trying not to think the man next to him had seen him fucked dozens of times. Having clothes on didn’t make Misha feel any less naked. This had to be the most awkward dinner in the history of humanity. They were just sitting here and talking about food when Misha’s whole life hung by a thread. Grim could do anything to him, and no one would ever find out.
Grim’s eyebrows shot up, and he squinted at Misha, setting his nerves on fire. “Not a popular choice in these parts, but it’s always better than munching on some innocent bull. Am I right?”
Misha licked his lips. “I used to eat a lot of seafood when I was younger.” He desperately looked at the menu. “I could have eggs if you want me to. Is a fishburger a bad choice?” He needed to work out what made Grim tick, and he needed to do that fast.
Grim laughed. He laughed . As if being carried into a restaurant by another man, with his naked stumps on display, hadn’t been humiliating enough for Misha. But when Grim looked into his eyes, there was no malice on his face. “I told you to order whatever you like. I’m happy you can see where I’m coming from.”
Misha took a deep breath. Clearly, the order whatever you like bit only applied as long as Misha chose Grim-approved foods. “I’ll take the fishburger.” If he weren’t so scared, he would tell Grim what he thought about this freaky pseudo-date. Grim’s pretty eyes didn’t make him any less of a creep. “I’ll have a chance to try other stuff on the way, right?” Wherever they were heading, he needed to know.
Grim nodded. “Absolutely. I eat out most of the time anyway. We can go somewhere more ... sophisticated another time, if you’d like that,” he said, leaning toward Misha, his hand squeezing on the coffee cup in his hand.
The waitress took their orders, but when she leaned over to light a sad little candle, Grim backed away suddenly enough for Misha to notice. He composed himself quickly, asking the waitress not to bother, but the initial reaction was something Misha would treasure in his mind for later.
“So … how did you find my website?” Misha asked as uncomfortable silence dawned on them. He needed to gather intel in the most inoffensive way possible. Until he got a better feel for who Grim was, he couldn’t tell him a sob story about his life. A “fan” wouldn’t want that. He’d want the fantasy, the sexy amputee who loved nothing more than fucking and jerking off for everyone to see.
Grim scratched his head and looked straight into Misha’s eyes, his gaze soaked with a lust so intense it scared the shit out of Misha. “I’ve always liked guys who,” he exhaled loudly, “who have lost something.”
Misha thought he’d seen it all and he could easily pull through this conversation, but talking to a whole new person, after over three years of relative safety with Gary, was making his fingers tremble. “How come?”
Grim lowered his eyes to the cup and licked his lips, playing with a pendant that peeked out from underneath his leather vest. It was a round piece of what seemed like translucent glass, with a tiny bird skull embedded into it. “I just do,” he said in the end. “And you were so different from the other guys I saw online. Like I had a connection with you when you commented on movies while eating pizza.”
Misha dared to look into Grim’s eyes. “You watched that?” Sure, he did those vids in just a pair of underpants, for extra attention, but Gary would only let him do those as long as he did his quota of porn. On one hand, the amount of people in the diner was freaking him out, but on the other, he had missed people while being locked up. Gary would sometimes print out comments from viewers, and apart from a deluge of horny guys, there would always be those few actually answering as if Misha were a human being, not a hot body with two holes, a cock, and stumps.
Grim nodded and drank some more coffee. “I watched them all. I sometimes rewatch those where you eat while I’m having dinner in a motel, because it’s kind of nice to have someone around during a meal. I usually travel on my own.”
That was … strange. But kind of nice. “Gary is—was—always busy, so I rarely had anyone to talk to.” Misha wasn’t ready to drop the bomb that he had been kidnapped and held in that room for years. The mere thought of saying it out loud made him uncomfortable. As if it would mean admitting to being a pathetic captive, who just went with whatever people around him wanted. A coward.
“Bullshit. Really?” Grim leaned back. “If I had you around, I wouldn’t ever want to leave.”
Or“‘never let you leave,” Misha thought. “I guess everyone gets bored with the novelty after a while.”
“You’re a person, so by definition, you can’t just be a novelty. People interact, and something new always comes out of it,” muttered Grim, seeming lost in his own logic.
Misha raised his eyebrows. Was Grim trying to butter him up? That would make sense. If you want to get into the pants of a “porn star” for free, tell them they’re smart and unique, not that you want to see their ass.
“I’m not very good with people. I guess that’s why the webcam is okay. I feel more in control.” It wasn’t complete bullshit. He’d felt more in control making videos for the website than when he was forced to entertain strangers in his room. And by entertain , he meant sexually.
“I don’t feel uncomfortable,” said Grim. “You’re very well adjusted for someone who’s been saved from wolves. ”
Misha went silent. Sure, his circumstances had changed, but had he actually been rescued? He’d only be safe if he managed to crawl to some cabin in the woods and stay there forever. Then again, he’d probably starve there, so he was fucked either way. It was still hard to comprehend that he was out of his room. That he’d seen Gary dead. Maybe it was adrenaline coursing through his veins and making him so aware of his surroundings? There was no time to cry or to take a breather. Misha needed to be in as much control as he possibly could, so when the waitress brought them food and Grim looked away from him for a moment, Misha snatched a fork from a basket on the table and slid it into his pocket. He needed a weapon, and he couldn’t force himself to grab the knife, no matter how much he tried to.
“I think I must be in shock,” Misha said. He’d been disconnected from the Internet long ago, but he’d watched hundreds of shows and movies on DVD. That’s what people said on TV.
Grim nodded and reached out across the table, putting his large, warm hand over Misha’s. It would have been a nice gesture if it weren’t a prelude to Grim wanting to fuck him. Which could have been an appealing perspective in some other dimension, but the lack of choice in the matter made it all too similar to what Misha shared with Gary, and he never wanted to be in that kind of situation again. Though somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew he’d have to submit to it if he wanted to live. He was a coward who wouldn’t fight a big, strong guy like Grim. It didn’t matter that Grim was the handsomest man to ever be interested in Misha. Grim wasn’t feeding him a free dinner because he was a nice person.
They spoke about inoffensive stuff as they ate, Grim gorging on eggs with red sauce and tortillas with a side of salad, which didn’t seem like the kind of food men like him ate in the movies. But that didn’t mean he was any less dangerous. Clearly, despite refusing to eat animals, he had no problem with offing people, so Misha himself was fair game.
Misha was becoming nauseated as the meal drew to a close, but there was only so long he could pretend he was still interested in food. Eventually, Grim picked him up and carried him across the parking lot to a motel, right next to where they parked the truck. At least back in his room, Misha could move around on his own, but out in the real world, his disability was choking and a constant issue. As they approached the room and Grim fished out the keys, Misha wished he had agreed on an alcoholic drink. He wanted to keep a crisp mind, especially since he rarely got alcohol from Gary, so his threshold was probably low, but now, in Grim’s arms, with both of their hearts beating in a symphony of panic and lust, he wanted to be drunk for what seemed inevitable.
Grim carried him inside and switched on the light with his elbow. The room was decent enough with a king-sized bed and furniture that was a bit beat up, like most of what Misha’s parents used to own in their tiny apartment, but he’d sleep on the bare floor if it would save him from unwanted attention.
Grim’s nose brushed against his temple. “See? Much more space than in your previous room.”
Misha nodded, unable to choke out a word. At least with Gary, sex had become a routine Misha was acquainted with. He would generally know how long it would take, what Gary liked, what got him off faster, and what annoyed him. With Grim, Misha was treading on thin ice. And then there was the big difference, which Misha had anticipated since Grim put on the leather pants. If it wasn’t a sock in Grim’s pants, then his dick was big . Much bigger than Gary’s. More like the cocks of the porn stars Misha enjoyed watching. And he’d lie if he were to claim he didn’t want to see it, though he’d rather see it from afar, without it being a threat.
The sound of the lock was so final Misha pulled closer to Grim as he was carried all the way to the bed. He hated not having his wheelchair available. Especially around strangers, it was so humiliating to be handled like a toddler. Before he’d lost his legs, he was active. He had played in the cold ocean in the summer, taking his freedom of movement for granted.
Grim slowly sat him on the bed and switched on the bedside lamp, while turning off the main light. He was the most gorgeous monster Misha had ever seen, and that only made this whole thing worse. There was no way for Misha to just turn off his attraction. Going with whatever men wanted from him, enjoying it to some extent, was what kept him alive. Arousal was almost a coping mechanism at this point.
“Where do we go from here?” Misha asked quietly, unable to swallow the lump in his throat.
Grim sat down next to him and put his arm around Misha’s shoulders. “We can go wherever we want. What do you want to see? Is this your first time in America?” he asked, but his gaze inadvertently glazed over Misha’s stumps, as if he was already licking them .
Misha had meant where they would go sexually, but he’d settle on small talk. He was so scared of being all alone, yet just as terrified of becoming someone’s slave again. “Yes, I’ve only ever seen it on TV.”
“Then it’s your pick, Andrey,” said Grim, once again calling him with the fake name of his porn persona. His fingers were slowly moving down Misha’s back, and at the same time, Misha glanced at the enormous cock bulging in the leg of Grim’s leather pants. Cold sweat beaded all over Misha’s skin when he calculated the size of that monster. Grim wouldn’t try to fuck him with it on the first night, would he?
“You don’t have a home? Somewhere you go to in your downtime?” Misha fought the urge to pull his shorts over the stumps in some weird attempt at fetish-modesty, but that was exactly when Grim touched one of them, cupping the ugly end of Misha’s leg. He still remembered his lower legs, and every time he looked down, he knew something was missing, and he couldn’t shake off the stabbing pain in his chest.
“Yeah, I do. Why? That’s where you wanna go?”
“Yes. I’d like to see where you live.” Maybe that would help Misha ground Grim in some sort of surroundings, because as of now, he still knew close to nothing about him. So the man was in a motorcycle club, he traveled all the time, and he killed people. Not much to put on a business card. Unless “Ridiculously Handsome” was a job title. The symbol of his club didn’t tell Misha much either, though the image of a monstrous hand peeking out from underneath the lid of a coffin and nailing its owner inside didn’t bode anything good.
Grim smiled and and nuzzled Misha’s ear, kneading his stump as if it were the most appetizing steak he’d ever seen. Misha always felt it was deeply disturbing that men lusted after something that caused him so much misery. Even though he cared about working out, keeping the rest of his body lean and attractive, because that was what Gary wanted, a part of him felt like it didn’t matter anyway, because all these men wanted to see and touch were the stumps. Sure, they weren’t all the same. Some wanted to see him jerk off while others got off on watching him crawl and climb into his bed or chair. None of those people actually cared about who he really was and what desperate situation he was in.
Misha put his hand on Grim’s shoulder, strangely shy over being with someone other than Gary after all these years. But he needed to make Grim happy, and from the way Grim was looking at him, leaning close the same way he did in the truck much earlier, it seemed he wanted a kiss first. Misha couldn’t afford to resist, even if the fork in his shorts was now like a separate living being, advising him to stab Grim in the throat. Misha could then cut his hair, hitchhike to a big city, and … what? Become a homeless, crippled beggar? At twenty-two?
All his thoughts dispersed for a moment when Grim’s lips crashed into his with both hunger and a surprising gentleness. Overcome by the spark of arousal, Misha barely had enough brainpower left to slide the fork out of his pocket and blindly stuff it underneath the pillow before all the grey matter in his head turned into vanilla sponge. He was breathing hard against Misha’s mouth as they both sank to the mattress. Grim shifted, and within seconds, he was over Misha, still petting the stumps as his lips caressed Misha’s with more and more intensity. His tongue coaxed Misha’s to move, stroking it lazily while their chests met when Grim lowered himself slightly.
Gary had never kissed Misha like this, not with this much dedication, and it was more confusing than Misha would like to admit. But being a good kisser didn’t make Grim a good person, and his size became much more threatening and alarming once they lay down. Maybe if they made out all night, things wouldn’t be that bad? Misha gently stroked Grim’s shoulders, never pulling away from Grim’s lips as he tried to work out what Grim enjoyed apart from touching stumps. Misha himself tried to forget that those artificially created parts of his body even existed. In his fantasies, he was always a complete man, with feet dragging over the mattress, not misshapen lumps beneath his knees. He tried to focus on Grim’s warm, fragrant mouth instead.
That big, warm body stirred under his touch, and Grim deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue over Misha’s palate before suckling on his lips. “You feel just as good as I imagined,” he whispered, massaging the stump with his thumb in circular movements. It was too much already, as any touch to the delicate scars had Misha on pins and needles.
Those words were exactly what Misha needed to remind him that Grim wasn’t exactly seeing him but a webcam version of Misha that he wanted to see. The version that took Gary’s cock with a smile and asked for more.
And yet, Misha couldn’t help a rush of excitement streaming down his body when he felt the hardness of Grim’s cock against his thigh. No matter how much horror he’d been through, he was still human, and the years with Gary managed to numb the pain of … what had happened before .
Grim smiled against his lips and then moved his chin down Misha’s jaw, scratching it with the invisible evening stubble. The sharp sensation was like a boost to Misha’s confused arousal, which became even stronger when Grim suckled on his neck. Misha heard a moan, and only half a second later realized it was his own. Maybe he wasn’t who seventeen-year-old Misha had been? Maybe this was his identity now. Andrey, the amputee porn model who loved nothing more than fucking or using sex toys in intense videos. Was it though? He didn’t even know anymore, and that scared him more than anything that could happen in this room tonight.
“What happened to you?” asked Grim, crawling down the mattress until his handsome face was between the stumps that always reminded Misha of spider legs.
Misha stared at Grim, unsure if the true story behind his amputations would terrify Grim or turn him on. He could almost hear the sound of a saw scraping against bone drowning in Misha’s own screams. “I’ll tell you another time, okay?”
Grim nodded and cuddled up his face against the shapeless leg before showering it with warm, open-mouthed kisses. He was touching the other stump with his hand, his face flushed as he was completely immersed in his fetishistic heaven. Misha took a deep breath and lay back. He could take this. Even if it reminded him of the first devotees he’d met in real life, and those were not fond memories. Grim’s tongue made its way up a scar and Misha laughed aloud at the surprisingly ticklish sensation. He put a hand over his lips in embarrassment.
Grim hummed against his skin, and the unmistakeable sound of a zipper tore through the air. Any trace of laughter was gone, but Misha still held his hand in place, too afraid to make a peep. From making out and weird stump cuddles, the atmosphere became aggressively sexual with that one sound. The ceiling seemed to be slowly moving down about to crush him.
Nothing changed, with Grim still kissing Misha’s stumps and thighs, but the enjoyment wouldn’t come back. Grim’s dick was so big Misha didn’t even know if he could physically take it, and so he couldn’t relax, constantly thinking about that monster unleashed out of its confines. And even if Grim’s cock were of average size, taking a stranger inside him felt so invasive. It’d been only him and Gary for over two years now. But Gary was dead, and there was no one here to save Misha .
“You smell so good,” whispered Grim as he slowly kissed his way up Misha’s thighs and past the bottom hem of his shorts, slowly nearing Misha’s cock, which got hard despite his misgivings and remained trapped in his briefs.
Misha was pretty sure he smelled of sweat and fear, but he wasn’t about to argue with someone so enamored with him. He dared to look down at Grim, nervous about the sharp focus that was present in his eyes even at a moment like this. He feared what could happen if he burst the bubble around Grim and told him the truth. Two forces were fighting in him, one excited by the beast in front of him and one rational and eager to run away as soon as he got the chance.
“Show me your cock,” whispered Grim, nuzzling the bulge at the front of Misha’s shorts. He was heaving, and between Grim’s strong thighs, Misha could see that long, thick dick that both excited and scared him. He had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. That thing was bigger than the cocks of many pornstars he liked.
Misha managed to tear his eyes away to look back into Grim’s and faked a smile as he went into the character of Andrey. Misha rarely smiled. All the pleasant expressions were Andrey’s. “You’ve seen it a thousand times,” he teased but pushed his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts and briefs. If he wanted any chance to blindside Grim, he needed to go with the sex, let Grim fulfill his obsessive dreams, and put him to sleep as a happy man.
Grim exhaled loudly when Misha’s cock emerged, and he crawled up, molding his tongue to the underside before he even grabbed it at the base. “I love your accent. It’s so ... different.”
Misha grabbed on to Grim’s shoulder with a gasp. That lick felt too good to be true. Even if Grim’s cock was intimidating to say the least, even if the stump adoration was freaky … seeing that handsome face down his body made colorful sparks fly under Misha’s eyelids. So what if the guy was into stumps? He clearly wanted Misha’s dick too.
Grim pulled back the foreskin, watching it for a moment before leaning down to slide his hot, wonderfully soft mouth over Misha’s cockhead. It set off fireworks in Misha’s skull, and the explosions became even more colorful as Grim played with the head of his cock, flicking it with the tip of his tongue and slurping all around it.
Misha didn’t expect a blowjob, and he couldn’t contain his excitement, as he had never gotten one from Gary and didn’t want to remember the few other ones he had received. It felt as if he had phantom feet, and the toes in those feet could curl. He moaned and slipped his fingers to Grim’s neck, overwhelmed and too excited for words. If Grim kept bobbing his head the way he did, Misha would not last much longer.
With Grim’s hand tickling his balls now, Misha could completely forget that the other palm of his “savior” was still touching one of the stumps. He was sinking into liquid heat, and the pressure around the base was just perfect. His senses were on high alert, picking up each vibration sent by Grim shamelessly moaning into Misha’s cock. He was so hot, even with his hair out of place and the flush on his face. It was like being sucked off by a model who couldn’t get enough of Misha despite him being so incomplete.
A strange mixture of peaking arousal and unbearable sadness pushed Misha into an orgasm that made him cry out and grip onto Grim’s neck. It was nothing like jerking off on his own or using a toy. The intensity made it hard for him to catch his breath, and for a moment, when he closed his eyes, Misha truly was free.
When he was slowly coming to his senses, he could still feel Grim’s breath on his wet skin, the weight of his nose and lips against the underside of his cock, and he looked down into those darkened, lustful eyes.
“You even taste great,” whispered Grim, slowly climbing up Misha’s body to catch his mouth in a semen-flavored kiss. The whole experience was so different from what other men wanted from him in the past that Misha gave in without much thought, too tired out to even consider fighting. As if the orgasm had sucked out all of his adrenaline, now the exhaustion of this night came back with a vengeance.
But Grim wasn’t done yet. He spat into his hand and curled his fingers around that immense dick, which was so dark and thick that it looked like it was about to burst. Grim pulled on Misha’s lip with his teeth, furiously jerking off between them.
Anger rose up in Misha’s throat when his first reaction was feeling guilty over not reciprocating the blowjob. Over not turning around and offering his ass with a smile. He would not feel guilty. He looked down, being the voyeur for once and enjoying the view of that fist and cock in action, even if he was the masturbatory fodder.
Grim’s other hand was still on the stump, but it was so hot to watch him slowly lose control next to Misha that he couldn’t even think about it anymore. Grim kissed him again, his breathing ragged and hot, but only moment’s later, Misha felt liquid heat on his bare skin. Grim groaned so deeply it sent a shiver down Misha’s spine as he watched his new captor come.
The thick cockhead, however frightening before, was a thing of beauty now that it was dripping with cum. But soon the orgasm was over, and the pretty picture was mangled in thoughts filled with anxiety. How long could Misha provide orgasms until Grim got bored with him? How long could he be Andrey, Grim’s porn wet dream? But most of all—did he even want to? Wasn’t being out of the compound the chance for escape that he’d been waiting for? No double doors, electronic codes, stairs, guards, gates, and cameras. He could go to the police and ask them to contact the Russian embassy. Tell them that he’d been kidnapped.
No. That wouldn’t work. The moment he’d end up in a file, Zero would send his men for him. He’d torture Misha for weeks and put it all on the dark web so that anyone who would even consider messing with him would think twice. What Misha needed to do was to find a way to go off the grid, and Grim was the only thing in the way of Misha’s freedom.
Misha would take that chance no matter how pretty Grim’s cock was or how good his mouth felt when he sucked Misha off. At the end of the day, Grim was a murderer who didn’t think much of stealing Misha away for himself and cared more for the life of cattle than people.
Misha would be no one’s exotic toy ever again.