Chapter 10 #3
“Is that another bag from the sex shop I spy?” Mason immediately teases, focused more on that than the pizza, so he must not be as hungry as I’d been worrying about.
“Did my book finally give you some ideas? Are you ready to admit how much more fun we could be having if you gave in to this tension between us?”
“There’s no tension between us!” I snap, but for some unknown reason it feels like a lie. I don’t know if it’s because I spend all day thinking about him—of killing him—that maybe there is tension between us.
“Suuure.” He winks, and then he must notice the pizza. “Oh my god, is that food for me? I’m starving.”
“It is. I also think I figured out a way to give you a bit more freedom to move around down here.” I take out the chain, stainless steel collar that has a metal ring on the front of it, shorter handcuffs, and locks from my bags.
He grins. “Okay, Kinky Daddy.”
I knew it was coming, but I still roll my eyes before I explain. “I can loop the chain around the pole and attach it to the collar. Then you can move a little more freely.”
“And you couldn’t do that with my ankle?” he challenges in a teasing tone. “You don’t need to pretend like you’re not just looking for an excuse to collar me. I won’t object. What’s next? Are you going to carve your initials into my chest?”
“Oh my god, why do you have to take everything to the extreme? Do you want the collar or not?” I ask in frustration, ignoring the way my dick twitches at the thought of collaring someone the way he’s implying because that’s definitely not what I’m doing.
Mason grins. “Yes, please. My arms are killing me. Being attached around the pole like this isn’t exactly comfortable.”
I wrap the end of the chain around the bottom of the pole, adding a lock to attach it to itself around the beam.
It’s a strong chain, advertised to be able to hold three times what I guess Mason weighs, but I tug it a few times to confirm it’s not going anywhere before attaching the other end to the collar’s buckle.
I put it around Mason’s neck and secure it before attaching the final lock that will keep him from removing the collar.
If I was worried about him hurting himself at all, this would probably be a terrible plan, but I guess if he wanted to kill himself, he’d just be doing me a favor.
Giving him the freedom to move around a few extra feet is probably worth it.
Even with his new freedom, he’s still in the middle of the room, so he can’t reach anything.
Plus, he looks absolutely thrilled, so I think it was the right decision.
“Okay, I’m going to take these handcuffs off for a second from around the pole, but I got shorter ones that you’ll still have to use.”
He groans. “Do I really need the cuffs? I promise I’m not going to attack you or try to escape or whatever. I just really want to jerk off, and having the handcuffs on while I do it is way too awkward. Believe me. I’ve been trying for days.”
“What the fuck? I don’t need to know that.” I can’t help but picture his attempt though, and it does seem like a horrible setup to get off. Fuck, what is he doing to me? Why am I picturing him touching himself?
He snorts a laugh. “Oh my god, you literally just chained me to a collar you bought at a sex shop. Don’t pretend like you’re some pure virgin now.”
“I’m not. I just…” I trail off. I never know how to respond to him. He’s so fucking confusing.
“Pretty please, Kidnap Daddy? I’ve been so horny the whole time I’ve been here, between how sexy you are and all the kidnapping fantasies I’d envisioned, then the book we listened to. I’m dying.”
“I wish you were dead,” I say automatically, but it’s weak.
He laughs again. “No, you don’t. Please, just let me come. You can put the fancy new cuffs on me after I get off. I promise I’ll be so good for you, Daddy.”
“I can’t leave you down here alone without your handcuffs on,” I argue because who knows what he could do? Even though it seems unlikely he could create a weapon from the almost nothing down here, I can’t take the chance.
His smile grows mischievously. “Then don’t leave.”
I shake my head. There’s no way I’m staying down here while he jerks off. No way. That crosses so many lines, but once again, my dick seems to have forgotten that it’s a man asking to get off in front of me as it starts to thicken.
“Pleeeeease,” he whines. “I’ve never been this desperate. It won’t take long at all. Just sit on the stairs while I stroke myself. You don’t even have to watch… unless voyeurism is your kink. I don’t judge.”
Fuck. The filthy words coming out of his mouth aren’t helping my dick calm down, and if I’m being completely honest, the visual of someone chained to a collar below me is also making it very difficult for me not to get a full-on erection right now.
But even if I don’t want to witness it, I am sympathetic to his situation.
If I knew I only had a little bit of time left on Earth I’d want to experience as many orgasms as I possibly could…
This is just like him and the audiobook all over again.
That’s all. It’s because I feel so bad about what I have to do that denying him any positive thing in his final days feels extra cruel.
Fuck. I can’t believe I’m actually considering this.
Because I feel bad for him. Not because I’m curious.