Trapped in his End Game (Series)

I place my palms flat on his warm thighs, facing that monstrosity he calls his cock. It’s way too fucking big.

“I can’t fit that thing in my mouth!”

He reaches forward and strokes the side of my face. “You flatter me.”

I position myself over his lap and I gently take his cock in my hand, eyeing the large crown and the bead of liquid already pooling at the tip.

“Remember, no teeth.”

Fuck, wouldn’t that be the greatest revenge? To take him in my mouth and bite down hard? That asshole would feel it for weeks. Of course, he’d probably kill me.

“When you’re ready, then.”

My eyes squeeze shut; I bend my face down until my lips bump into the smooth, shiny flesh. I take an exploratory lick, tasting the bitter precum, but his cock just tastes like skin. It’s a huge relief. I quickly wrap my lips around the head and open my eyes, trying to remember everything about giving a blowjob. They liked it when I went deep. Tommy groans as I suck the head, flicking my tongue across the skin. I grab the base of him with one hand and I widen my mouth to take him in. He’s impossibly wide. So much so that I gag almost immediately. I force my head down again, trying to take the full length of him, but he’s just too fucking big.

My hand grips him tightly and moves up and down as I work on his cock, getting moisture down the length of him. I feel Tommy’s moans through my fingers. His hands wind themselves in my hair, and he attempts to grind his hips against me. He pushes my head down his cock, but I gag and pull away. Fuck. This isn’t working!

I suck his head, abandoning all hope of taking him all the way in, and my hand moves rapidly over the loose flesh.

“Not so fast,” he says, placing his hand over mine to still it. “You have one minute, by the way.”

My lips move sideways over the length of his cock, using my tongue to tease the underside. His thighs twitch and he utters a curse when I reach the base of his cock, and I suck.

“Jesus.”

Suddenly a small series of beeps distracts me and Tommy utters a frustrated groan, looking angry that time is up already.

“Goddamn it, I was enjoying that.”

I pull myself away from his lap, a hollow feeling stirring in my chest. I humiliated myself for nothing. He gives me a sad smile as he pulls on his briefs and slacks, which he manages with difficulty from his throbbing erection.

“Do I get to try again?”

“No.”

No? “What do you mean, no?”

“Generally, when people say ‘no’ they mean…no.”

He gives me a dimpled smirk as he ties his belt around his slacks.

“When do I get to try again?”Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“Tomorrow.”

Holy fuck. I have to wait until tomorrow? Another twelve hours or whatever it is of starving? He turns his back on me and approaches the stove, grabbing a white ceramic bowl. He ladles the thick, dark soup into the bowl. There are carrots and potatoes inside, and it smells incredible. I lick my lips when he sets it down on the table.

He catches my body before I can lunge at the bowl of stew and he forces me backward until the backs of my legs hit a chair. I sit down, glowering at his amused face.

“Sorry, hon. Maybe tomorrow.”

The chair groans as he sits down in front of the bowl and digs in, even tearing off a chunk of bread and dipping it in the sauce. My hands clench underneath the table as I watch him devour the stew.

“You’re really not going to let me eat? Can’t I just have a little-”

“-No.”

He won’t even look at me. He can’t even see how hungry I am, but he probably doesn’t care anyway. A burning pressure builds behind my eyes and two small tears manage to squeeze out of them. The gnawing pain grows even worse with the smell of food and my lips tremble as I watch him spoon the last bit of soup. Then he uses his bread to mop the bowl clean.

“You are completely heartless.”

Tommy’s eyes shift slightly. “Yeah, I am.”

I may as well have said that the sky is blue for all the effect it had on him.

“So you’re just going to starve me to death, is that it?” My voice trembles with outrage.

Oh God. Don’t do this to yourself, Melanie. You won’t get any pity from him.

“I’m sure you’ll get me off next time. You just need to put your heart in it.”

“Fuck you.”

He doesn’t even blink. “You can wear that t-shirt, if you want.”

I grab the white t-shirt sitting on the table and pull it over my head. I’ll take anything that creates a barrier between us. The thin shirt does little for the cold, but at least I feel less exposed.

“All right,” he says. “Back downstairs.”

My throat closes. “No, please. I just came up here-“!”

“And now you’re going back down, where you belong.”

He takes my arm roughly and tugs me back toward the closet, but I dig in my heels, almost sobbing. “Why can’t I just stay up here? I won’t run, I swear!”

Tommy yanks my arm roughly. “You told me to fuck off.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Coming from your mouth, that doesn’t mean shit.”

He avoids my eyes as he straps me to the metal pole, and then every sensation is lost to me again.

* * *

I don’t know how long I’ve been without food at this point. Stabbing, sharp pains hit my stomach and the thought of food is almost nauseating. I spent hours leaking precious water from my eyes, too exhausted to yell. I can’t hear it, anyway. No one can.

Tommy kneels in front of me in the darkness. His hands wrap around my throat and he squeezes. My lungs burn as I twist around, but my hands are tied behind my back. I’m helpless. Then his fingers loosen and I gasp a lungful of air.

“Please-stop!”

“I’m going to kill you, sweetie. You better fight me because I will kill you. Soon.”

I make a funny sound-something like a squeak. “No!”

He leans in, his tie swinging as his mouth hisses near my ear. “I’m going to rip you open with those knives and play with your insides.”

“MOM!”

I scream for my mother, terror that I’ve never known before consuming my body. He will kill me. It’s just a matter of time before he gets bored.

“Just do it,” I tell him. “Kill me.”

“Soon.” He kisses my cheek and another sharp pain pierces my abdomen.

He’s already doing it, torturing me with some device as his laughter rings in my ears. Light blasts my vision and he disappears. The headphones lift from my ears and the first sound I hear is a horrible, cracked scream. My blindfold flies from my head and I crack open my eyes. It’s him.

Another vision.

Or was it? I’m not so sure anymore.

“Please let me go. Please, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Yes, you can.” He uncuffs my hands and removes the foam from my arms and then he stands up, expecting me to follow him.

I try to stand up, and I collapse to my knees. My arms shake from supporting my weight, but he wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me up. I’m pinned to his side, so weak I can barely stand. How long have I been without food now?

We move across the basement slowly, Tommy whispering sweet words of encouragement in my ear. Why the fuck does he bother?

“C’mon, baby. Just one more step. That’s it.”

Once we make it across the kitchen, I collapse into a chair and put my head in my arms on the table. I’m too exhausted to sit up. The sound of a glass hitting the table makes my head perk up, and I notice that it’s filled with orange juice.

“Drink it.”

I drain the glass in one swallow, nearly crying from relief when I feel the pleasant acidic taste over my tongue. Then I lean back, sighing as the sugar works its way through my veins, filling me with life again. It isn’t enough, of course, but at least I don’t feel as if I’m dying of starvation anymore. Then I notice the plate of pasta and chicken, sitting right across from me. It looks like pesto and some sort of mushroom sauce poured over the chicken breast. Good God, this man knows how to torture me.

Tommy touches my shoulder and I look at him for the first time. He’s back to wearing jeans and a t-shirt again.

“Were you in the basement, talking to me?”

He lifts an eyebrow, but says nothing. He won’t confirm or deny it, probably ’cause he wants me to lose my fucking mind.

“Are you ready to try again?”

I nod and his hand moves over the back of my neck, slowly massaging me. It’ll be easier to get him off if I remove the t-shirt, so I do. I lift it from my head, hissing as the cold stings my bare flesh. He wets his lips as the shirt flies from my body. Greedy hands find every curve of my body. He yanks me close until I fall into his lap, and then his hot mouth finds my tits. His tongue leaves a blazing, wet trail around my breast, his mouth sucking hard on my nipple. An involuntary gasp leaves my mouth when I feel the pulse between my legs. He bites and it’s like an electric shock.

No, I’m not supposed to want him. He’s supposed to want me.

“What are you doing?”

He groans and fastens his lips, sucking hard to give me a bright-red mark. I bite myself, hoping that the pain will overwhelm the pleasure, but it doesn’t. All I want is more.

“I’m getting you warmed up.”

I slide off his lap and tear the belt from his waist. Enough of his fucking games. I just want to get this over with and ignore the throbbing heat in my pussy. His smile infuriates me. The struggle to bury my arousal must be plain as day. I tear his boxers to his knees and fist his fully erect cock. My mouth swallows the head as a low hiss leaves his mouth.

I have to do this. I can’t wait another day without food.

My tongue moves under his shaft, lubricating him for my lips as I begin a slow rhythm, my lips tightly sealed around him. Slowly I move my head down, forcing myself to let his cock bulge in my throat, even though my stomach retches. I pull back as another sharp hiss leaves Tommy’s mouth.

“Fuck.”

The soft moans and uttered curses give me an unexpected leap of pleasure. His fingers digging in my hair heat my chest, and I look up as my mouth plays with the head of his cock to gaze into his eyes. They’re narrowed and his teeth are bared. The heat from his eyes gives me a thrill I’ve never experienced before. Never have I had so much control over a man. Never have I felt so powerful.

I open my mouth wider, gagging myself on his hard length, encouraged by his voice.

“Yeah, that’s it. Oh fuck.”

His breathing deepens and becomes faster, and his mouth hangs open. My pussy clenches when he balls his hands in my hair and thrusts into my mouth hard.

“Yes.”

The wet, sloppy sounds of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth make me feel even more powerful. I’m getting into this role-the slutty girl who does anything to get what she wants. He buries himself to the hilt as my throat bulges, his balls flush against my lips. I grip his thighs and let him thrust deeply, and then he holds me there.

“Fuck!”

His balls tighten and seize up as his cock jumps in my mouth, and a torrent of warm, salty liquid fills the back of my tongue. He slides out and pumps back in, moaning as his thighs twitch. I’m filled with his cum, and I want to spit it out to breathe, but Tommy won’t let me pull out, so I swallow it, feeling disgusted with myself. He softens inside me as every last drop is milked from my mouth, and then he pulls out, smiling at me with rapturous delight.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Melanie.”

My chest heats when he looks at me like that. He takes my face in his hands, breathing hard, and wipes the corner of my mouth. Then he sticks his thumb between my lips and I suck the very last drop from him. He grabs my arms painfully and wrenches me upright so that I’m straddling his lap. His frantic mouth crushes against mine, bruising mine as he grabs my tits and squeezes hard enough to leave marks. I gasp when his tongue sweeps over my lips, and then he pulls away, shaking.

“That was one hell of a blowjob.” He kisses me again and makes another frustrated growl as he looks me up and down. “I knew you were worth it.”

Deep shame fills my stomach, mingling with the nausea from the fact that I just swallowed some guy’s cum. How could I let him do this to me?

He lets me slide off his lap and sit down on the chair as I pull the t-shirt back over my body. I hang my head down as he slides the plate in front of me, but the smell of it makes me sick now. I feel awful.

Tommy turned me into his whore, and the worst part of it was that I liked it. I liked having him in my mouth, and I even liked swallowing his cum. Even though the idea of it repulsed me, I liked seeing the pleasure transforming his face as he got off.

I push the plate away. The thought of eating anything he gives me is repugnant.

“What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? I want to laugh at the ridiculousness of that question. What’s wrong is that you’re trying to break me. And you’re winning.

His hand brushes over my shoulder, filling me with a sick warmth that I don’t want to feel.

“Get off me!”

“Melanie, you need to eat.”

“I won’t eat anything you give me.”

“Then you’ll die,” he says in a cold voice.

Something snaps. The last brittle piece of sanity I’m clinging to cleaves into two, and I seize the plate of food and hurl it across the kitchen, watching with satisfaction as the plate explodes into shards and the foods spills all over the floor. I stand up as Tommy makes a noise of outrage.

“What the fuck?”

“WHY DON’T YOU JUST KILL ME?”

His eyes widen as he watches me, holding out a placating arm. “I’m not going to do that.”

My hysterical laughs bounce over the kitchen tiles, echoing harshly in my ears. “Yes, you will. Just get it over with!”

“Melanie, listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m done. I don’t want to do this anymore. I won’t!”

“Mel-”

I dive for a broken shard of the ceramic plate as Tommy lunges for me and I grasp it in my fist like a knife. He tackles me to the hard floor and forces the hand with the sharp piece of ceramic against the floor. Harsh fingers pinch a spot below my wrist. My hand explodes with intense pain and I immediately release my weapon, my eyes filling with tears.

“You fucking bastard. I can’t stand you.”

His hands curl around my shoulders and he pulls me upright, into his chest. A shaky breath blows over my ear.

“Jesus Christ, Melanie.”

The emotion in his voice stuns me. He actually sounds remorseful. Gentle hands smooth the back of my head, reminding me suddenly of my parents. My throat closes up and my eyes burn as I think of them. Will I ever see them again?

The way he holds me-I almost feel cherished, but then he pulls away and all that wonderful, sad warmth disappears. Reality sets in. He’s my captor. He’s trying to break me.

“Sit down.”

He pushes me into a chair and returns to the stove, grabbing more pasta from the pot as the hunger in my stomach rises to my throat. If he brings over more food, I won’t be able to stop myself. The plate sits in front of me, the basil from the pesto sauce spiraling from the steam in the air. It smells wonderful.

Tommy sits next to me, wearing an uncharacteristically somber expression. “It’s okay.”

I seize the fork and shovel spaghetti in my mouth, my taste buds screaming from the sudden flash of flavor. Jesus, it’s incredible. It tastes like Heaven, but I feel as if I’m condemning myself to Hell with every bite. When I’m done, Tommy takes my hand and brings me into the living room. I’ve never been here before. It’s a small, cheap-looking room, filled with the crappiest furniture that they could probably find at a moment’s notice. There’s a cracking sound and I turn my head toward the fireplace, which glows with warmth. Freezing, I sit down in front of the fire, relishing the heat as Tommy sits on the other side of the fireplace. The orange glow pulses on his face.

It feels strange, sitting here next to him. Something is different between us. I felt as though I lost the battle, but looking at his face-I realize that I might have actually won instead.