Chapter 4. Liam #2
Now I’m not even bothering to hide the tears, just letting them soak the cheap fabric beneath me.
I can’t catch my breath, and there is a sound in my throat I don’t recognize, a kind of keening that I hope doesn’t belong to me, like IIIIIGHHHHHPFFFFF.
He waits for me to get control, not saying a word, until I finally manage to stop sobbing long enough to breathe.
My face is burning, not just from embarrassment but from the heat of crying and the strain of holding back.
Suddenly, the bed dips as he leans over me, and I tense, expecting another blow, but instead I feel his hand resting on my back, reassuring.
It’s such a fucked up thing to be comforted by the same person who's hurting you, and I can’t make sense of the reaction in my brain.
I want to tell him to fuck off in the same way I want to tell him to never leave, because I enjoy the feeling of his palm, and I enjoy feeling him close.
Maybe that’s why so many people get off on spankings.
I get it now. I’m humiliated and furious and, even worse, so fucking turned on.
He waits again until I stop trembling too much and, finally, without saying anything more, he gives one last lash, the hardest of all, making me twitch.
I feel him drop the belt on the bed and he starts rubbing my back.
His hand is huge, feels like a board, heavy, delicious.
His thumb drags slowly across my spine, and my whole body shivers under him.
I pray he thinks it's from the pain. And as much as I hate this guy more than anyone in the world at that moment, I kind of like feeling the weight of his hand comforting me, and when he stops, I want to tell him to keep going.
You made me become this mess, you created this monster, you keep going, you fucker.
I try to wipe away the tears on the pillow before I lift my face because this has already been humiliating enough.
I get up, trying to act as if nothing has happened, but there is no way.
This has shaken my world, and I’ve never felt this way before.
He said he’s going to look after me or something, that he won’t let me throw my life away.
Or have I gone mad, misunderstood everything?
This isn’t the first time that I’ve made up stuff in my mind. I’m my own biggest gaslighter.
And, besides all of that, there’s the tiny problem, or not that tiny, thank you very much, that my dick is so hard it hurts.
I desperately need to go somewhere to jerk off.
I already know what I'll think about: his voice saying 'You're mine to correct,' and the weight of his hand pressing into my back.
My ass is on fire, and it gets worse when I squeeze into my tight white briefs and pull up my sweatpants, the heat radiating through me.
Everyone in the room is silent and still watching us, but having finished his thing, Ethan pockets the weed, grabs his belt, buckles up, and flops back on his bed with a book like nothing happened. It’s fucking infuriating.
"Next time, I'll pick Griff," I say, sitting on the bed, wincing as I do. Ethan scoffs at that, and I want to punch him. “What the fuck was that?” I try to force myself to pretend things are normal, even though they are NOT normal. It’s never been less normal than this. Ever. In my entire life. I’m still shivering and I need to cum now.
"It'd be way worse with Griff. Trust me, after the first time you get sentenced to hard labor under the sun, you'll pick a spanking any time," Jack says, giving me a pitying look. I don't want him looking at me like that; it feels again like I’m gonna hurl any second. I really, really, really want to vomit. Feel the sweet relief after I do, the horror of the act while it happens, the anticipation before it happens. I can’t wait to have some time to go vomit.
"Does he spank you guys, too?" I ask, nodding toward Ethan.
"I'm right here, you know?" he calls out from his bed. "And no. I'm not their leader, but I can still report stuff to their leaders or to Griff."
"I got thrashed pretty bad in the first few months," Jack shares, "but you kinda get used to how things are around here and stop screwing up so much. After some months, your leader usually leaves you alone, even though they're still your leader forever, until you or they leave."
"Funny, I never got used to things here," Harry says. “Rules are optional, in my opinion.”
"Sure, your leader doesn't give a damn about you," Ethan throws at Harry, harshly. "Don't think I'm gonna be like that, Liam. I'm responsible for you, your owner here, and I'm not gonna let you screw up."
I look at Jack and Harry, speechless, because I have no clue how to respond to that. I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. It feels like a madhouse, and everyone seems to think what Ethan is saying and doing is normal. And why is my heart racing so fast?
Then, before I can even get my head around it all, we hear the door unlock, and it’s swung open by a guard. The guards wear the same blue uniforms as cops, and one of them is standing there saying, "Quiet time's over, let’s go."
I glance at the boys, confused, but they all stand up, hands behind their backs, eyes downcast, and line up to leave.
Obviously, I follow suit, with Ethan waiting for me to get in line before stepping in behind me, and my heart skips a beat at how he waits for me, or I’ve gone insane, which I’m a hundred percent starting to believe.
We are led out in line with the other guys, all of them with hands behind their backs, to the yard in the center of the blocks, where we can break from the line.
Then Ethan and Miles split from us, leaving just Jack and Harry with me.
My ass throbs like a son of a bitch, but the second his back turns, that ache in my chest hits harder than the one on my skin; I miss him already, stupid as it sounds. I want to tell him not to go, not leave me alone, not after what he did.
What the actual fuck is happening to me?!
"Where'd they go?" I ask.
"Miles has to serve detention, and Ethan does some admin work before exercise time since he's got that leader role," Jack explains. "Have you picked what sport you're doing yet?"
"Yeah, Griff roped me into his MMA training team."
"Oh, cool! Ethan and I are in that," Jack says, getting excited. "It's really fun. Griff tries to get everybody into his team, it’s hilarious. You should join us, Harry."
“Nah,” he says.
"What do you do?" I ask, casually. Still trying to go for 'normal'. Still thinking about Ethan’s hand on my back.
“I hit the gym,” he says. “Hate sports, honestly. There are no chicks around to impress. So, yeah, don’t care much. By the way, rookie, if you want, I can hook you up with more of what Ethan confiscated,” he whispers, winking. “That’s my real sport of choice.”
Jack frowns but keeps quiet, and I just grin.
“Cool, thanks, man.” I’d love a smoke now. Like, right fucking now, please. I’m still feeling everything in a kind of surreal mist, and my head is floating a little, the same way it’d be if I smoked. I’m even glad for that: in the end, I didn’t even need my weed.
They give us a snack: cookies and juice.
The cookies are those cheap, chalky ones that come in clear plastic wrap.
Sugar wafers that dissolve into paste on your tongue.
The juice is warm Sunny Delight, sickly sweet, but I gulp it down anyway.
Still better than my house. Way better. I'd go days without eating anything, just because I couldn't be bothered to find food.
Here, it seems you get fed. Like, regularly. It's wild.
When sports time comes, we file out to the gym rooms. I'm standing there, still tasting that fake orange sugar on my teeth, when Jack pulls my arm. He seems serious, which doesn’t look like him. I barely know the guy, but even I can tell that him frowning like that isn’t normal.
"Don't get caught up in Harry's stuff," Jack warns. "I'm not uptight like Ethan, but seriously, Harry could wreck your life here."
"What do you mean?" I ask, because Harry seems chill enough.
"He deals weed and other stuff, makes big money, and doesn't care if you get caught. Happened to our old roommate before you, Jerry."
"What happened to him?"
"Harry got him some pills, and he got busted. Got transferred to a real prison." Jack lets that sink in for a second. "And Harry's still here. Got some time in the hole, but he bought off the guards and convinced everyone he didn't do it."
"Damn," I say. "How does he pull it off?"
"His buddies bring stuff on visitor days, and his parents are rich. He even bribes some guards. He'll try to give you some freebies to get you hooked, that's how he gets everyone." Jack shrugs. "Aside from that, he's a cool guy, just don't let your guard down around him."
“Got it. Thanks for the heads up,” I say, giving Jack a grateful smile.
He’s a good guy. I immediately know when people are good or not.
It’s a superpower that I’ve developed dealing with all sorts of crazy fucks in the streets.
“I’m not that into it. But it's nice to chill sometimes, so I'd do it in a heartbeat,” I shrug. No use in lying.
“Don’t let Ethan hear that, or he’ll want to spank you again,” Jack jokes, and we both laugh, even though I’m still feeling every lash Ethan has given me. Just thinking about it, I tense up, my cock twitching uncomfortably again.
“Ethan hates that Harry’s like the drug kingpin here, and that we're all in the same cell, but he keeps quiet because there’s no point in snitching without a good reason.
It’d take something major for Ethan to rat out Harry, but he’d enjoy doing it.
He just couldn’t stand seeing you bring in weed, too.
It’s nothing personal. You're just his responsibility, and he won't have you become a mini-Harry.
He's had to be the leader to some bad kids in the past, so he's kinda traumatized. Ethan’s cool once you know him better.”
“Yeah,” I say, mulling it over. There isn't much to say. The hottest guy around is my kinky leader. What can I possibly do?