by Marie James
The ten minutes I spent in the restroom was conducted in full castigation mode of a cock I apparently can’t seem to control. A problem I thought was gone years ago. Seems my body is not in agreement with the temporary celibacy I’ve sworn myself to, and I would be correct if I take into account the thoughts I had about the girl in the gym. I need to lock this shit down because as a grown ass man I’ve got to get better control over my body. Maybe some yoga tonight might help. (or a piece of ass my dick screams at me.)
I head to the register to pay and head back home to where I know the girl waiting for me there is more than willing to love me.
Five hours, an uneventful second trip to the gym, and I’m back home. I was in full meal prep mode when I got back from the store, and now my fridge is stocked full for the week. I should invest in Tupper Ware stock with how many containers fill my fridge.
I toss back the last sip of my watermelon flavored AMP and grab a shaker cup from the wine rack on the counter. Within minutes I’m collapsing on the couch with a protein shake, seriously contemplating just sleeping here tonight. I worked out this evening until I hit muscle fatigue and once again I’m shocked I made it home safely with how bad my legs were shaking.
“Princess” had commented again on everything I’ve posted today. Princess, really? I have to laugh at that. Each one of her screen names and even her Facebook name has the word in some form. The profile picture is always some famous work of art. I can tell she’s getting on some of the other ladies’ nerves, but I love the consistency. She must have each one of her pages marked to get notifications when I post because she’s usually the very first one to like or comment. Every. Single. Time.
I look down at Dixie and tell her everything I remember about the girl I plowed over at the gym today. Her response is only a half-hearted tail wag. Even she has better things to do than listen to me ramble on about some chick I’ll never see again.
I post the picture of my tanned, golden brown ass covered with kiss lips, courtesy of the little stickers at the tanning salon. My phone is going to blow up overnight. I switch it to silent, toss back the last of the protein shake, and close my eyes. I’m unable to wipe the shit-eating grin off my face from how my life has changed so drastically over the last few weeks.
Chapter 4
Leia
I high-tailed it out of that gym as fast as I could. I could tell you I’ll never go back. I could also tell you that I didn’t sit in my car and wait for him to come out, watching him get into his truck. If I told you that, I would be lying. Twice.
I knew he drove a truck. I also knew what color and make it was as well. How did I know? You guessed it, Facebook. Everything I know about him has been from there. His likes and dislikes. Not that he posts all of those things. Most people I would imagine look at his face, body, and muscles when they see a picture of him. I stalk the backgrounds of his photos, paying attention to everything surrounding him.
This is how I discovered his fondness for different footwear. The boots are expected, of course, he is a true southern boy, but it’s the damn croc I’ve seen in more than one picture that raises my concern. I mean can I really love a man who wears crocs? Before today, I would have said it was debatable but after he put his hands on me and I heard his amazing voice I know for a fact I could love him. I’m teetering on the edge of admitting I possibly already do, but I won’t because that would make me crazy and he doesn’t seem like the type of guy that would go for crazy.
I’ve had more fun today following him all over town than I’ve had in as long as I can remember. First he went to the grocery store and then to his apartment. Finding out where he lives and what store he frequents, both things I would never have discovered had I sat at home and stalked him on Facebook. Nor would I know that he sings to himself constantly, in his truck, walking to and from his truck, always singing. That smile never seems to disappear.
My face hurts from smiling so much. He truly is a happy person and a gentleman. He’s said online that he’s a southern gentleman, but he proved it to me today when he helped an elderly lady return her cart to the store after he helped her load her groceries into the back of her car. She tried to give him a tip, and he refused. I know true character comes out when people think no one is watching and well, he’s legit.
Matthew has been inside of his apartment for hours now. The lights are still on but I haven't seen any movement past what I assume is his living room window in a little over two hours. Now that I know where he lives, I can swing by anytime and check in on him anytime I want.
I crank my car and leave the parking lot in my rearview. I need to get home and rest if I plan to actually workout at the gym tomorrow. Who knows? I may even say hi to him. Who am I kidding? That will never happen, but I will make a point to be there if only to have the chance to hear his voice when he talks to some of the other guys that workout with him.
I frown at the extra car in the driveway when I pull in. I hate people and Luke knows that. He usually goes out or only has company when I let him know I have no intentions of being home. I lock up my car and make my way into the house. When I drop my keys on the kitchen counter, I notice the door to the basement is cracked.
We never go in the basement. It’s creepy as hell down there. Our parents used to make Luke and I stay down there for days at a time, and they’d barely feed us if we pissed them off. I haven’t been down there since my parents died. Murder/suicide. Well, that’s what the cops said so we never gave them any reason to believe differently.
I open the door wider and can hear chaotic music playing. Since when did Luke start going back down into the basement? I thought we agreed to keep that part of the house sealed shut. My twin never keeps his word, so I’m not surprised to see him standing in the center of the basement floor. What does surprise me, however, is the naked man he has strapped by the wrists, hanging from the ceiling. I want to avert my eyes, but I’m drawn to the scene on display.
Chapter 5
Matthew
I wake up exactly where I fell asleep, sprawled out on my couch. It may take days for my neck to straighten out from the angle I slept in all night. The sun isn’t even up yet, but my body’s alarm clock says I should have rolled off the couch half an hour ago.
I rotate my head on my shoulders, trying to work the kink out of my neck and look down. The two consistent things in my life stare back at me: my hard cock and Dixie. I ignore the boner and pet the dog.
“Mornin’, sweetheart.” I grin at the erratic tail flicking. “Give daddy a few minutes and I’ll take you out.”
I head to the bathroom to relieve myself of both of my issues. I tried jacking off in the living room once, but Dixie just stared at me like she knew what I was doing. I couldn’t finish under her scrutiny and judgment like I was bringing shame to her. So my house is my castle unless Dixie is uncomfortable with it, and then I’m relegated to doing what I’m doing now. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror stroking my dick.
I’m not narcissistic, but the sight is pretty amazing. I cup my heavy balls and contemplate opening a Tumblr account just for my dick. The motion is practically routine. Down, up, thumb over the head; repeat. Except for the small gasp of relief, my orgasm is silent and depressing. I question my sanity once again for my self-imposed no sex lifestyle. Maybe I should reconsider the whole thing and just adjust the parameters a bit.
I take a leak now that I can piss without spraying the wall and throw some sweats on. I look everywhere for the damn crocs that pop up at the most inopportune times but to no avail. I settle instead on my Reebok slides and head to the front door. I keep my shirt off, knowing the soccer mom on the other side of the complex likes to watch me while drinking coffee on her balcony, and well, I aim to please.
Her husband is a pretty cool guy; we’ve talked a handful of times. He even mentioned once that his wife likes to stare at me. Apparently I’m her eye candy since he’s rocking the ‘dad bod.’ His wording not mine. Each morning I walk by slowly, jus
t so she can get her fill while she sits on the balcony, stealthily pretending I don’t exist. It’s a dynamic I don’t mind at all.
The middle-aged divorcee who smokes like a train, at the other end of my building is the one I avoid at all cost. There is no stealth involved in her cat-calling and blatant suggestions for the things she claims she’d like me to do to her ‘kitty.’ That crazy hag can’t take the hint and pretty soon she’ll get a mouthful since ‘no thanks’ doesn’t seem to be working.
Dixie is waiting patiently at the door for me. I grab her pink leash, clip it to her matching harness, and make my way outside. I tug my sweats a little lower, so my ‘V’ is showing. I’m feeling extra generous this morning. I let Dixie lead me around as she searches for the best spot to go. She’s trucking along like she does everyday and lets out a yelp when I stop dead in my tracks while staring daggers at my phone.
What the fucking fuck?
Photo reported? I can’t like things on Facebook. I can’t comment on things I’m tagged in. Who the hell would report the picture of my ass? It’s not like it’s the first picture of my ass I’ve posted, more like the fourth. This may end up being the equivalent of the guillotine from the seventeen hundreds; being able to look and see all the shit going on around me but not being able to do anything about it.
I attempt to send out a reply to one of my friends that messaged last night asking about my Halloween plans. Thank Christ I can still send private messages. Grounded from Facebook; Facebook jail. Today is going to suck. Twenty-four hour ban my ass. Well, at least, I still have Instagram and Snap Chat! The ladies are going to be super upset when they tag me as their man crushes today and I don’t like or comment on the posts. Maybe I’ll hit Shauna up and see if she can post on my behalf. She’ll think this shit is hilarious!
I start walking again, allowing Dixie to proceed through the grass. The women on the pages I post to love me, at least, I thought they did. I have no clue why one of them would report me. I bet one of my exes sent one of her troll friends to burrow and implant herself somewhere either on one of my pages or one of the groups I’m active in. I wonder if it was the last lady I refused to send a dick pic to. I mean do they seriously think that a simple request in messenger is all it takes to get a picture of my cock? Hardly! (show me to the world my cock shrieks at me)
Man, I really need to get laid.
An hour and a half later I’m back at my apartment getting ready for work. The visit to the gym this morning sucked. By the time I got Dixie settled back into the apartment, the clouds had opened up, and the storm didn’t look like it was ending anytime soon. I had to hit the treadmill at the gym rather than running sprints outside like I had originally planned. I hate the fucking treadmill.
This day just seems like it’s going to be shit. First Facebook jail and then the treadmill. I’m thinking the entire day is going to be horrible until Usher hits the 90’s station on Sirius on my way back home, and all is right with the world again. I send out a few snaps of me singing along to “Make Me Wanna.”
I may be able to get loads of shit done today with Facebook restricting my actions. I might even get around to the couch humping video everyone has been begging for, and by begging, I mean messaging me incessantly and sending YouTube links for song suggestions. I tried to do it last week, but the phone kept falling over. I need to jump on Amazon and see if they have little stands to assist in video making for my phone. It’s really a dumbass idea; I said I wouldn’t do it, but I aim to please. Gotta make them ladies happy.
Glad I’m in a better mood. Nothing worse than trying to pep people up for a healthier lifestyle and sell supplements when you’re in a crappy mood.
Chapter 6
Leia
I stand in the shadows and watch as my brother circles around the man hanging by his arms from the exposed rafter beam, his feet barely reaching the floor. I knew my brother was into some kinky shit, but I never would’ve imagined that he’d do this.
I’d take the time to be pissed that he’s hidden it from me but, strangely the scene in front of me is rather exciting. I roll my lips backward between my teeth to keep from making a noise when Luke raises a riding crop and smacks the man across his lower belly. His body jerks from the blow.
Strangely, the man’s penis is fully erect as if he is enjoying the torture my brother is dishing out. I’m grateful Luke is wearing pants, although seeing him without them would be nothing new. He hits him again, this time on the inside of his thigh and the man moans around the cloth gag at the contact. I’m not into rough sex at all. The handful of times I’ve done it has been plain Jane missionary, but this whole situation is getting me extremely hot.
I don’t know if it’s the aggressive nature, restraints, being in the shadows as a voyeur, or a combination of those things but I’m beginning to grow slick and having a hard time resisting the urge to slide my fingers into my panties.
Just as I’m about to throw caution to the wind my brother speaks. “I know you’re lurking over there, Leia.” My hand halts its descent down my stomach. “I saw you come down the stairs.”
I position my fist beside my body and step into the light, coming into full view of my twin. The strung up man tilts his head, listening to his surroundings since his eyes are blocked with a blindfold. My brother doesn’t stop the prowling circle he’s been making around his victim, still striking out at him occasionally with the crop.
The man’s demeanor has changed, though. He seems stiffer like he’s not happy with an addition to the show. That’s unusual, right? To be perfectly fine with being hoisted up and whipped naked but have an issue when another person discovers what’s going on.
“I didn’t realize you were keeping a pet in the house.” Like I said, my brother has always been into some weird shit, so the only thing remotely curious about this situation is that he’s brought the man back here rather than elsewhere.
“Are you offended?” Luke asks running his hand down the sweaty, whelped chest of the naked man and ending with a brief stroke of his softening dick. “Seems Danny is offended,” Luke says rolling his eyes in frustration.
“I’m not offended, Luke. I just thought we agreed never to come back down here, after…” I look toward the corner of the room to the dark stains we were never able to get fully out of the concrete.
He shrugs. “I’m over it. The basement is the perfect place to keep a pet. Don’t you think?”
I look around noncommittally and then back at my brother. “It does have a certain charm doesn’t it?”
“Want to play?” he asks holding out the crop and motioning with his other hand, giving me permission to continue the scene.
I’d be an idiot to refuse, right? How many chances in a lifetime do you get the opportunity to whip a bound man with a crop? I’d be a fool to refuse this experience. Then a thought suddenly hits me.
“I want one,” I tell Luke with complete determination in my eyes.
“You can have this one.” He grins at me as the man begins to jerk at his restraints. Luke bites Danny hard on the chest, and the action causes him to settle down.
“I don’t want this one,” I admit with a sly smile. “But I do know someone who’d be perfect for me.”
Luke takes a step back and looks at me with amusement. “You already have one picked out?”
I shake my head in affirmation. “Will you help me catch him?”
“Let me see how you handle this one before I commit to assisting you in obtaining one of your own.” He walks up to Danny and leans close to his ear. “I’m giving you to my sister.” Danny shakes his head back and forth refusing. “You will comply. Do you understand?” Danny whimpers and shakes his head again. “Give her what she wants and I’ll give you what you want. Do I make myself clear, pet?” This time, his head moves up and down in agreement. “Hurt her and I’ll kill you,” he bites out before he steps away.
“Should I be afraid of him?” I whisper to Luke as he steps up to me.
He l
ooks back at Danny, who is hanging motionless waiting for whatever comes next. “Nah, he’ll be a gentleman. I’m going to go make a sandwich. Call me a freak but I don’t want to watch my baby sister torture a naked man.”
I sneer at Luke when he brings up our six minute age difference for the gazillionth time since we were born.
I wait as he makes his way to the bottom of the stairs. He pauses when he reaches the bottom and turns back in my direction. “Oh and Leia?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “He loves things in his ass.” He nods his head to a rolling table covered in all sorts of sex toys and medieval-looking torture devices.
“Good to know,” I say and turn back to Danny. “Ready to have some fun, Danny?” I ask as I hear the basement door close behind Luke.
He whimpers but remains stock still. “Be nice and I may even let you come,” I promise as I raise my hand and strike out with my initial blow of the riding crop. The scream he emits from behind the gag soaks my panties. I could get used to this.
Chapter 7
Matthew
I couldn’t find the stupid phone stand that I was looking for on Amazon. I was able to find one on some random site after I did a search. I ordered it, but it’s coming from China, so there’s no telling how long it will take to get here or if it will ever show up.
My Amazon search was not completely fruitless. Once again falling down the rabbit hole that is Amazon, I did come across a life-sized replica of Sasha Grey’s mouth, and with Prime, I get that and the biggest bottle of Astroglide I could find in less than forty-eight hours. Life is great. I look down at my hand and pray the whole ‘you’ll grow hair on your palm’ saying is just a myth. If it isn’t, that issue will be resolved in two short days. Now all I have to worry about is my vision. The last thing I need is to go blind.
