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I tense in Seven's arms, but I think the same.
We don't say anything more. There’s been a silence between us for most of our time together in the cell, but it's a comfortable silence. It's a silence that feels much safer than talking.
He takes a raspberry shower gel and squeezes some into his hands and starts to wash me. I sigh in contented pleasure leaning into his touch as he massages the gel into my skin. I shouldn't feel this good being held captive. Seven is slow and thorough. His hands linger longer over my breasts, my ass, and between my legs. His fingers slip inside me, and I buck against him.
“Wait...” I say, “what about you?”
I wanted to return the favor and wash him, though maybe not with raspberry. I think I saw some peppermint in the cabinet. Even though I find myself too shy to initiate anything, to touch him without him guiding me to, I really want to touch him. I remember that first day in the shower. I want to lick that 'V' again.
“I showered while you were still sleeping. We don't need to bathe me. Turn around and straddle me.”
We've gone days with him only giving, never taking. His restraint has been admirable. Each day he hasn't asked anything of me, I've grown to trust him a little more. But we both have needs, and we're here together. It seems foolish not to take our pleasures where we can get them. Especially if we'll probably die here.
I know our captor says he won't get bored and that killing is unimaginative, but what does he plan to do with us when he's finished? Because someday he will be finished.
I start to turn around to do what Seven has asked, but his hand on my hip stills me.
“Wait, are you on birth control?”
He could have asked the question when we fucked a few days ago, but we were hungry and not exactly in the right frame of mind for that thought process. And it didn't matter anyway, if we wanted to eat. He knows I can't be on the pill. Is he hoping I had the shot?
“No, but I don't need it. I can't have children.”
“How do you know?”
“Trust me. I know. I had to see a lot of doctors when I was a teenager. They discovered an abnormality in my uterus. It wasn't directly related to the problem I was having but they stumbled on it. I've been this way since birth. The short version is I can't have kids.”
“There's no treatment or surgery?”
“There really isn't anything they can do in my case. Some women with milder abnormalities have lots of miscarriages but have at least a small chance of maintaining a pregnancy, but mine is too malformed. It just can't happen. I'm not built right.”
At first I don't realize I've started crying. Seven strokes my back.
“Shhh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just didn't want to take more risks than we had to.”
“It's okay.”
Is this why he hasn't taken? Even though we’re being fed on a regular schedule, I’m still bait. I'm still naked, locked in an enclosed space with a man strong enough to take what he wants. And he would never get caught by any outside authorities because we both know we will never be free.
If he wasn't afraid I'd get pregnant—with whatever added horrorthatmight entail—would he still have had this saintly self-control?
He's stroking my hair. “Do you want me?” he asks.
He never asked if I wanted him to stroke me to orgasm each night in the dark. My legs falling open when he reached my thighs was enough for him. But this is obviously different.
“Yes, Master.”
A sharp intake of breath is his only reply. Hedoeslike it when I call him that. He doesn't want to like it, but he likes it.
“You know you don't have to call me that when we're alone.”
“I have to call you something, and he won't allow names. It doesn't bother me.”
“Climb on top of me and ride me,” he says, choosing not to address the fact that calling him masterdoesn't bother me.
It's such a weird thing for me to have said, but itdoesn'tbother me. In the time we've been captive together I've started to feel this strange submissive urge toward him. I like the idea of him having this power. It makes me feel safer even though I know I'm not.
I turn and straddle him, sliding down over his huge cock. I don't know how many times we'll do this, but I'm sure I’ll never get used to his size.
