AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Another quarter-inch turn of a dial gets an immediate yelp from the boy, akin to the chatter between parrots found in Kalalau Valley. My stroking grows in speed and strength, as the leather swing sways from side to side amidst Kragen’s raging jitters.
I shake my head in surprise. “Good boy, Kragen,” I mutter low, admiring his serious grit.
Another slight increase in voltage ushers the boy straight beyond all panic, as he jerks his whole body an entire foot to the left. His gnashed teeth open wide, all the while his pleasure cry could be heard from a mile down the road if this weren’t padded off with state of the art foam.
“Goddd fucckkkkkkk,” he screams, that face of his incensed to the max.
Though he hasn’t cried‘pineapple,’I can tell he’s at the tipping point. My stroking slows down considerably while studying the boy’s pain riddled visage.
A shrill whine falls from his teeth pierced lips. “PINEAPPLE!!” He screams. “FUCKKKINGGG PINNNNEAPPPLEE!”
No sooner do I bring the electric current to an immediate halt, when I study Kragen’s distraught expression. His stare couldn’t shoot any more daggers into my soul as if I’ve hurt him.He consented to this, man. You didn’t do anything he wasn’t willing to allow. You stopped the second he activated the safe word.
“Kragen,” I moan, hovering over his forehead with concern. “Are you okay, Banana Boy?”
Sweat empties from every facet of his hairline, as the heated breath escaping his lungs crashes into my tightened pores. “God fuuckkking damnn ittttt,” he whimpers, rustling both arms locked tight to the suspended chains.
I waste no time releasing him from their grasp, before lowering his legs from the stirrups. “Oh boy,” I drone. “You lasted longer than I imagined,” I add, assisting Kragen in climbing down from the swing.
The boy winces as he quickly removes each clothespin from his skin, without so much as an audible reply. Though, the look on his face isn’t quite what I’m used to seeing in a boy who’s just received an attitude adjustment. There’s a certain anger warming Kragen’s face. Either of tacit disappointment, or true pain. He hobbles himself across the room to my secret door, banging his fist against the crease as if it’s touch activated.
I shout from my stance next to the swing. “It’s the button off to the right,” I wail, feeling a rising storm of anxiety in my gut. “Are you gonna be—”
He hisses over his shoulder, grabbing the base of his spine in the process. The door creaks open before I can even get one more word out. For the first time in my years as a Daddy Dom, I’m left with little assurance that I haven’t inflicted harm on a boy. Albeit unintentionally, it still leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Not another moment is wasted chasing after Kragen. But somehow he’s already halfway across the sitting room.
Give him space, man. For all I know, he just needs to take a fucking piss.
* * *
Why is Kragen taking such a long time in there? My God, a flight back to Maui wouldn’t take this long.
I glance down at the time on my phone, trying to piece together exactly how long Banana Boy has been in my bathroom. We haven’t exchanged a single word since I helped him off the swing. And for all I know, there’s more to that death stare of his than my imagination can muster.
I hurt him, didn’t I? I’m always so careful, that wasn’t even a third of what Wade could tolerate. Nearly half from my very first time. However many years ago it’s been, since somebody introduced the pleasure to me. Why hasn’t he come out of the bathroom?
If my Nani were here, I’d have the comforts of her loving reassurance. It’s hard when we’re apart for longer than a day. Because I take that floofer with me everywhere. If I can get Kragen to warm up around her, perhaps we could become some happy little family. But he has to get his young ass out here before that births possible.If it’s possible. He probably hates me for inflicting the littlest amount of pain I thought he’d be able to take. Am I a hardened Daddy Dom?
My feet follow a path through the sitting room, stopping at a lengthy rectangular mirror. The doubt which heckles me from my reflection is enough to cause a fucking ulcer. Merely a bitter reminder of my calloused shell, figuratively speaking.
So pathetic. Look at those stone cold eyes. So greedy and utterly clueless, that I can’t tell a legit business proposal from a hole in the ground. That cloud of crimson shrouds the jade around my pupils, because my inner Dom has taken things way too far. Kragen could have a lasting injury from pushing him beyond that ledge which divides pain from pleasure. If not, this will etch a permanent souvenir in my heart that I’m a selfish son of a bitch—intent on satisfying only my needs. What about Kragen’s, you bastard?!?!
Trickling water sounds fill the bedroom when I shuffle towards the bathroom door. It’s been left slightly ajar. Whatever the fuck he’s up to, he’s doing it quietly. In any instance, those water fountains aren’t capable of concealing too much noise. I push the door all the way open to study Kragen sprawled across the granite floor.
Oh my God, Banana Boy!!
“Kragen!” I screech, dashing straight to him in a panic.
Lowering to my haunches, my vision catches sight of his eyes which are barely flickering. Yet another admonishment on the inside for thinking that a little playful punishment was in order.Fuck oh God!I bundle his neck with the crook of my right arm, raising his torso up into mine. His limp arm crashes into my thigh, dropping an amber prescription vial in the process. I shoot a momentary glance up towards the medicine cabinet, only to realize in this moment that the boy has located my Dilaudid.
“Kragen!” I shout, slapping Kragen across the face to get a rise out of him.
Thank fuck it’s effective.He starts coming to, fluttering both lashes like he’s departing a temporary dream.God I hope he didn’t take any of these.In this moment, a reminder from only this morning thrashes inside my mind. The poor boy has a physical dependency to opioid pain medications from an injury in middle school. Just one could set him back from all the effort he’s put forth into his abstinence.
If memory serves me, I only filled this script prior to an elective procedure for my face, which kept getting rescheduled. And I don’t recall taking even one of them.If I count to thirty, he wouldn’t have taken any.No time is wasted unscrewing the cap to collect an inventory of the vial’s contents.Two, four, six, seven, eight, eleven.
Kragen wipes his left eye with a curled finger. “Whaa—what’s going on?” He asks, stifling a yawn.
My concentration doesn’t stray from counting the remaining tablets scattered in my palm.Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four, twenty-seven, thirty.A wave of relief washes over me while I pat Banana Boy on his naked tummy.
