Nineteen
Blake
I can’t see anything and at first it makes me anxious.
Then he sets me in the warm water, and when I lower my hands to my sides, my fingers come in contact with soft foam before hitting the bottom of the tub.
I’m really in his house. Is this another human privilege?
Will I still get my others after getting this one?
Not sure I care if I don’t, because this more than makes up for it.
I stretch out my legs, pushing back until I hit a tile wall. I lean against it, tilting my head back as he slides a wash cloth over my shoulders and arms. My hands try to lift but fall back down before they can so much as poke out of the water.
“Don’t worry about trying to do anything right now. Go ahead and rest. I’ll make sure you get clean. Your body has been through a lot tonight.”
I close my eyes, tilting my head further back, and a moan escapes me before I can respond.
He’s circling my nipples, careful not to snag the washcloth on my piercing.
He’s taking his time, working his way to my stomach and then between my legs.
I lift my hips and he shoves his hand underneath me, getting between my cheeks as much as he can.
My hole clenches. I’m so sore. Not in a good way either.
My body feels wrecked so I continue to lie here, my shallow breathing the only moving I do.
He’s washing my legs now, and then my feet.
He scrubs between my toes and circles around my stinging ankle.
I didn’t realize how bad the rash was until I started bleeding from the scratching.
I didn’t think he’d care when he saw it, but of course I was wrong.
He cared about my stomach hurting too and about me needing to be clean. It was so fucking confusing.
What else can I get him to care about?
I’m too tired to think more about it, my thoughts jumbling when he cleans between my legs again, rubbing the towel up and down my cock at an antagonizing pace.
“Should I go get the book and read to you here? That way you can soak for a little bit longer in the warm water.”
I buck my hips, not sure how to answer because I can’t even fully focus on his words.
My body was so over hurting that it’s growing greedy at the good sensations it’s experiencing right now.
I need to push him away, but like last time, I don’t.
He’s not doing anything wrong anyway. Only making sure I’m clean enough.
That’s all. I’m the one making more out of it, aren’t I?
Am I the one taking advantage by enjoying it?
Pressing my lips tighter together, I don’t say anything. Heat pools into my stomach the more he rubs over my base, the towel falling to the side of me as his fingers keep rolling over my skin.
“Too tired to talk? We could always call it a night.” His voice sounds closer. “I think before we can do that, I might need to help you with something else first.” His hand stops and I’m already missing the friction we were creating together. “Does someone need relief somewhere else now?”
I bite my bottom lip and mean to shake my head but end up nodding instead.
“You hurt here too now, don’t you?” He rubs my balls and squeezes one, and I choke on my next breath.
“If it’s too hard for you to speak and be Blake, then you can take a break from it and be my piglet. I just need to hear you oink for me. Once for no and twice for yes.”
My stomach tightens, my cock head swelling when his nails scrape over my scrotum.
I take a breath and lick my lips, but nothing comes out at first when I part them, so I try again. “Oink.” I pause and dig my nails into my palms as I say, “Oink,” a second time.
“That’s all I needed to hear. You get what you need quicker when you communicate easily and aren’t wasting both of our time.”
I nod, swallowing down a groan as he wraps his fingers around my head, squeezing as he works his way halfway down my cock only to slide back up.
I got a little too excited again and he’s only preventing me from being uncomfortable.
It didn’t have to come this close to it either.
I took too long to communicate properly.
I took too long to accept how easy it was to become something I never thought I wanted to be.
His piglet.
I pump my hips, breaths increasing, and I wish I could see him. To see what I can feel he’s doing to me. Why am I letting this continue? Why am I not talking? Why did I ever let him start washing me to begin with after what he did when I last allowed it?
I’m the one who started this. It was me.
And now I can’t stop. I’m too close to stop.
He’s taking care of me like he said he would.
My every need, and what I need right now is to come.
It’s not a need I ever expected to seek out from my captor, but things have gotten complicated.
I keep forgetting how he and I are supposed to be with one another.
He’s probably as distracted as I’m getting. I could use this opportunity to take off my blindfold and rip off his mask. Shoving him back and trying to run is another option.
But my body feels too anchored where it is to move, and what if he catches up to me?
What if I lose all the privileges I’ve earned?
Then I’ll still have to be a prisoner and won’t have anything to make the days go faster.
I’ll be locked up with my thoughts again and have to eat alone.
It’s the having to eat alone that hits me harder than eating off the floor does.
My brain short-circuits as he speeds up his hand, and my knees rise.
My cock twitches between his fingers as I scream through my release.
Seconds pass and he lifts his hand from the water before lifting the drain.
Water moves around me, getting lower, and cold air touches more of my skin as the tub empties.
The faucet runs and splattering sounds echo around me.
He pours warm water over me and his fingers scrub at my hair before he rinses it.
My body is buzzing and singing at the same time.
I’ve completely forgotten the pain I was in before he brought me into the house.
I’m forgetting where I am again too, humming when he wraps a towel around me as he lifts me out of the tub.
I press my face to his shoulder ,and when he lifts me higher, he says, “It’s okay.
You don’t have to talk or move for the rest of the night.
You can still get human privileges while also being my piglet. ”
I snort into his shirt, rubbing my face into his neck, not understanding why I want to keep this going.
Is it because it means fewer responsibilities, or is it because we both get something out of it?
Or is it because what’s happening between us reminds me so much of what Logan and I had that I lean into it so I can get through each day more easily?
Logan.
I could have been with him in that tower today. He could’ve been the one carrying me down to my car right now too. But instead I’m in the arms of someone I badly want to hate but can’t because he’s all I have right now, and even he’s better than fading to nothing all alone in a barn.
Those are my two choices. Being cold, sick to my stomach, or inside a warm house where I get to be read to after a warm bath. I think a reasonable person would choose the second option. At least that’s what I keep telling myself to make my thoughts seem less crazy.
My hands hang at my sides as he continues walking with me.
He sets me on what feels like a bed, adjusting a pillow behind my head, and when he’s done drying my front, he covers me with a blanket.
He sits next to me, the mattress dipping as he closes in on me.
I keep my eyes shut, letting my head fall as his fingers ruffle against book pages.
“Chapter one,” he says, running fingers through my hair, and his voice changer switches to a softer tone as he reads to me.
His words slur as his fingers swipe to the fourth page and he yawns.
Here goes another chance for me to run. I’m still not chained back up and there has to be so many heavy items around me.
He repeats the last sentence he left off on, and his words are slower than before as he pushes on to the next few pages.
He goes quiet, the book falling between our legs, and when my hand lifts to my blindfold, he grabs at my wrist. I lock in place, heart beating out of control.
“What are you doing, little piglet? Who said you could take that off?”
The book moves off my leg and there’s a loud thud beside me. “We’re done reading for now,” he says between clenched teeth. “I think it’s time to put you to bed.”
“Oink,” I let out once without thinking twice. It came so naturally to me. Or was it out of desperation.
“Are you telling me no?”
“Oink, oink,” I answer with anguish in my tone.
“You’re being very bad suddenly. First trying to remove the blindfold I told you to keep on, and now you’re telling me no.”
I hang my head as I shift onto my knees. I touch around until I find his lap and lay my head in it with my ass in the air. I rub my face into his stomach, sniffing at him, and he sighs.
“Is this your way of saying sorry?”
I nod against him, getting the blindfold wet with my tears.
“Alright. We’ll read one more chapter and then I’ll take you back to your room.”
My room.
I didn’t have that back home. I was the only one who slept in it and it held all my things, but my dad never stopped reminding me that it wasn’t mine.
That it was his and he could take it away from me with the snap of his fingers.
He held it above my head daily. My clothes were paid for by him and so was my phone.
It was all his. But here, when I’m given something it’s only called mine.
“My room,” I repeat in my head again.
The man stroking my back and scooting closer to me is giving me one that he wants to keep taking me back to.