Page 31 of On Your Knees

He pours out his water because he didn’t really want it. He just wanted to hold the glass. I take the glass from him to catch his attention. I’m his friend too, even if I’m annoyed with him right now.

He understands why I took the glass, what I’m asking.

“I’m fine,” he says, but his eyes don’t really connect with mine.

“I won’t need you tomorrow,” I tell him.

Patrick nods. He understands that too. He needs to go to a meeting. He needs to talk to his sponsor.

He walks out of the kitchen. We don’t say goodnight. We’re long past formalities, and though we don’t tell all our truths, we don’t tell lies either. Patrick will not have a good night, and neither will I.

The difference is, I don’t want to. I want to enjoy my misery as my dick throbs in the cage while I plan tomorrow. I want to lie in bed and feel the way my back burns from the healing lash marks. I want to sleep so I can wake frustrated and aching and ready to punish Levi for it.

ELEVEN

Ethan

I wish I had cameras in every room. I’ve never needed them before because no one has ever been here like Levi. And while I can guess what’s likely happening in his room right now as I hear him get up, I wish I could see his face as he discovers the drawing I left for him. I could go in, of course, but my presence would change his reaction. He would look to me for answers, and I would rather he find them on his own.

Besides, this is a test.

I spend the next hour moving to various rooms in the penthouse to track his activity. He’s so quiet as he drinks the coffee I left for him. I left a light breakfast too, but I don’t think he eats it.

He showers.

He waits for me.

He hunts for me a bit, but he doesn’t open any doors. Even where doors are already open he only peers into the rooms. He never calls out.

Then he heads to the playroom.

Levi stalls in the vestibule. This time of day, enough light reaches the space to reveal some of the statues. Levi explores silently, bare feet and light fingers giving nothing away, but I imagine him touching the curves and contours. Then he walks into the playroom.

I move into the vestibule to watch him. He starts in the lounge area, hovering briefly by the couch where I’ve posed him in the past. His back is to me, and I hate that his T-shirt and loose jeans hide his body.

Then he goes to look at the chains and cuffs and collars hanging on the wall. He’s cautious but so curious. Next, he walks over to the bondage coffin. He opens a few of the small doors. When he freezes, I know that he’s discovered the shackles inside.

All this time, his back has been to me. I can read his interest, but I can’t tell how his body is reacting. Maybe he doesn’t understand enough to react at all.

I expect him to leave the room or maybe sit on the couch where he’s been before, but he surprises me, he absolutely delights me, by walking to the curtain that hides the rest of the playroom. He peers around it.

I hear him gasp. I see him freeze.

I wait for him to scramble, but he doesn’t. He just stands there, staring. Then I let him hear my footsteps, bare on the hardwood floor. I’m wearing only my jeans and a white T-shirt. And the cage of course. Levi’s head whips my way. His eyes are huge.

“Well?” I ask. “What do you think?”

“Is this … a torture chamber?”

“Yes.”

Levi stares at me. He’s shocked but unafraid, and there’s a bulge at the front of his jeans. I feel a devilish grin start to pull at my face. Levi blinks. He doesn’t smile back, but he doesn’t recoil either.

“Go on,” I tell him. “Take a look.”

Levi swallows hard—and ducks around the curtain. I follow him. He walks around, slow and silent, staring at the racks and benches, the pulleys and swings.

Levi notices my setup at the chair. He heads toward it. His eyes flit over the tray where all the toys and tools are waiting, then his gaze locks on the chair itself. There are straps along the arm and leg rests. Every part is fully adjustable for comfort—or discomfort. The only thing missing is the seat.