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“Is Tobias done with Anthony?” Chris asked.
“Why do you care? Think only of me.” He slipped down one of the dress’s straps and squeezed Chris’s bicep. “You’re a bit strong for a girl. And what’s that?” His fingers brushed against Chris’s armpit. “Not into shaving, I see. And why do you sweat? Are you nervous?”
Nervous? He was way past that. Those kinky games never ended well. “I didn’t want to use the Taser on you.”
Dima squinted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You American girls talk nonsense sometimes.” He looked down. Now that one of the straps had slipped, Chris’s left pec was exposed. “I can see your little booby. Your poor nipple.” He lowered his head and gave the nipple a gentle kiss. Chris froze, worried a bite would follow, but it didn’t. Instead, Dima raised his head and slid his hand underneath the dress. He reached Chris’s ass and squeezed. “This is much nicer than your booby.” He rubbed his finger against Chris’s hole before slipping it inside. The penetration didn’t hurt, just irritated his worn-out skin.
“You’re so sticky.” Dima pulled his finger out. “Someone else was there earlier. You must like jumping from man to man.” He moved to grope Chris’s crotch above the dress. “And what are you hiding there?”
“Nothing.”
“Mmm, I don’t think that’s true.” He slid his palm underneath the dress. “I think that... oh, there it is.” He firmly held onto Chris’s balls. “This is nothing?” He squeezed, sparking lightning and causing Chris to bend forward with a gasp.
“Why did you lie, pretty girl?”
Chris glanced at the closed door. He didn’t remember Oscar locking it when he left. He needed to get Dima’s hand off of him so he could sprint out of the room.
“Answer me.” Another lightning struck his balls.
“I’m sorry.” The pain made it hard to speak. He placed his hands on Dima’s shoulders. “Can we please dance again?” He forced what he hoped was a seductive smile. “I like dancing with you.”
Dima shook his head, his eyes cold.
The next squeeze was the strongest one yet, the pain too much for Chris to withstand. He opened his mouth to call for help, but Dima swiftly blocked it. When Chris tried to pull away, another squeeze to his balls made him stop struggling. He felt lightheaded, his legs barely supporting him. The pain in his crotch sent sharp claws into his lower stomach.
Dima whispered in his ear, “You think that you can hurt my balls and I won’t hurt yours?”
Chris readied himself for more pain, but Dima surprised him by letting go of his mouth and balls. The relief was sweet but short-lived. Dima sent his fist at Chris’s guts, causing him to double over, gasping for breath.
“Get away from me,” Chris wheezed. “We never agreed for you to be a part of this. Get out of here.”
“Get out? How?” He moved closer, cornering Chris against the closet. “Through the door over there?”
“Dima, get the—”
The slap hit him hard, sending him crashing to the ground and causing several of the closet shelves to come down when he tried to find a grip. The shelves crashed on top of him, hitting his back and his head, but the wigsoftenedthe impact. Items of clothing and sex toys scattered across the floor.
Chris groaned in pain. No bones were broken, but the pain echoed up and down his spine. With his brain foggy, he realized this was his chance. “Hel—”
Dima was on him in a heartbeat, wrapping his arm around Chris’s throat and holding tight enough to cut the flow of air. Chris tried to wriggle away, but Dima didn’t budge.
“Shhh, don’t struggle. You can’t breathe when you struggle.”
Despite his basic survival instincts, Chris forced his body to stay still. Dima eased the pressure, allowing air back into Chris’s lungs.
“Why are you on the floor? It is not polite.” Dima roughly pulled Chris to his feet and shoved him onto the bed. His body hit the mattress and bounced. Dima climbed on top of him, grabbing Chris’s arms and securing them firmly between his legs. Although his mouth was free, Chris didn’t risk yelling for help.
“Oh, I think I tore your pretty dress.”
“Dima, let’s talk, okay?”
“We talked enough.” He placed his hands on Chris’s neck, thumbs resting over his air pipe, not yet pressing down. Chris lay very still, his pulse throbbing against Dima’s thumbs.
“Please listen—”
“Shh. Don’t speak, just take a deep breath.” Both thumbs pressed down, immediately cutting the flow of oxygen.
Chris forced himself to keep still; to struggle would be to lose precious air.This is not about killing me—this is about payback. Those rational thoughts flew out the window when fire spread throughout his chest, scorching his empty lungs. He twitched underneath Dima, who remained sitting firmly like a mountain.
