Once he gets bored of me, and police discover my body in a wall of this house, they will call me needy, naive, and while nobody will say it out loud, they’ll all think I had it coming.
The wine beckons me closer as Sevastyan laughs at something the stranger said, so I pour myself some and gulp it down in two big swallows. I hope it has enough alcohol content to numb my self-flagellating doubts.
Sevastyan’s back relaxes as lean back without a word. I’m out of our unexpected caller’s sight, and since the horizon’s the last thing I want to see right now, my gaze focuses on my captor’s muscular backside.
Maybe Iamstupid and too horny for my own good? I might be a big reader, but it’s not as though I went to college after high school. I don’t have years of experience in espionage or whatever the fuck else Sevastyan is capable of.
For all I know, this boat could have been another trap, a test set up by my captor. One I passed this time, but at what cost? I finish the wine, because I need to feel the buzz in my veins or I’ll go crazy.
The afternoon sun shines through between Sevastyan’s fingers as he waves goodbye before approaching my hunched form in silence. The weight of his presence is so palpable I nearly curl into myself further, but when he places his hand on my head, the touch feels light, even gentle. “Good boy.”
The relief these words bring me is so fucked-up. My stomach unknots, my shoulders relax, and I even smile up at him as if he didn’t scare me half to death.
I have to face the fact that despite my fragile position in this house, Ilikebeing here.
I like everything he cooks for me, I like not going to work, I like talking about art, I like the soft bedding I sleep in, I like his pet rat, who’s already started listening to simple commands when they come from me, I like the view from his windows, and Ilovebeing close to Sevastyan.
It’s like a new addiction, and I can’t get enough.
I had no idea just how touch-starved I was before I ended up here. Most of the time I don’t even think about my situation being dangerous. I fall asleep thinking about sucking his cock, and wake up already anticipating when he will come for me. Cuddling on the sofa is the highlight of my day.
“He won’t be a problem?” I ask as if that’s the most important thing, not escaping.
Maybe I never really valued freedom all that much and would give up on it in a heartbeat if it meant I could have safety and pleasure.
“No.” Sevastyan’s fingers push into my hair and massage my scalp before tugging. It seems lunchtime is over. “I’m glad you didn’t do anything rash. I’d have hated having to shoot him.”
There it is, a reminder of who I’m dealing with. A man who talks about killing a stranger as if it’s nothing. And yet I’m so infatuated with him it hurts, because yes, I do like to feel so much smaller than him, and I love his confidence. Sometimes he turns me on with rough touch, but then he can be so gentle, as if I deserve care and tenderness, even though I’m his prisoner.
I just wish we slept in the same bed, so I could melt into him every night. Such fantasies aren’t good for my mental health, but it can’t be helped.
“I learned my lesson. I trust you.” Probably more than I should.
I let him guide me from the table, already excited by the way he’s holding my hair.
“Really? You no longer worry I might turn your meat into stew?” he asks with a soft rasp.
“Okay, that’s not worryingat all,” I snark as we pass through the living room, then up the stairs, into the bright studio space above.
It smells of the ochre I’ve been grinding into a fine powder, because the great Sevastyan likes making his own paint, like the old masters. And now that he has me here, he’s been teaching me all about it. I’m his apprentice, and I eat that up as much as the sex. I’ve been itching to draw too, but apart from a few sketches, I don’t have that much opportunity for it.
I forget all about the meat stew threats when I see Ratimir scratching the bars of his cage at the sight of us. Sevastyan really did have a lot of time on his hands before I arrived, because he’s created an elaborate network of tunnels spreading throughout the whole house, with several of them ending with cages filled with toys and treats.
I try not to compare myself and Ratimir, because our situations feel uncomfortably similar. The rat also seems very content in captivity. Safe from predators and doted on. What else could there be for him?
“Look! He’s happy to see us.” I approach the cage.
The rodent squeaks, and when I unlatch the door to his enclosure, he crawls into my palm and starts grooming it right off the bat.
“He really likes you,” Sevastyan says, pressing his sturdy chest to my back as he pets the rat’s head with his fingertip. I love the way the gesture moves both of the round ears at the same time.
“Let’s practice the trick,” I say excitedly and pass the rat to Sevastyan who gives me an appreciative nod.
He walks off and scoots on the floor as I grab one of Ratimir’s favorite treats. I take a second to glance at Sevastyan’s impressive physique, amazed by how quickly I’ve gotten used to us being naked around each other. It’s hard to blame a man with a body like his for wanting to be undressed most of the time.
Sevastyan looks into the rat’s eyes as he puts him down. “Victor. Go toVictor.”
Ratimir hesitates for only a moment, then turns my way and runs all the way to my foot, squeaking when he arrives. It’s the most adorable thing ever. I scoot down to him with a grin and hand him the treat. Ratimir’s greedy little paws are on it in an instant.
