If Ian lost the key I was going to be pissed.
I had looked around the room, thinking he would have left it behind, either by mistake or as a way of saying he was just fucking with me. But, nothing. Worst case I go on Amazon and buy the same model just to get the key, but that could take what? A couple of days? A week? All for a little prank? I hope he got his yucks in. This was truly the last straw. When Ian is drunk he is completely out of control. A total liability. No amount of fun or sexual satisfaction is worth this rollercoaster.
And, Adam! I just have to hope his outburst last night was the booze talking. Or him playing into Ian's wishes. Or both. Either way, it worked. I was devastated. The one good thing to come out of all of this and my last memory is of him spitting in my face. I spent the last two weeks daydreaming about how our relationship could blossom as he moved on in the world. I really began to appreciate the idea of being a mentor to him. Everyone needs a little help.
Now I was left picking up the pieces. It felt like......rejection. A feeling I've never really known, and it sucks.
But summer was over and the two of them were gone now. It was a fucking wild ride but it was finally over. All because I let this kid into my house one day. I chuckled to myself that it even happened. Lesson learned.
I trudged out of the laundry room ready for this new chapter. A new, old chapter. Back to boredom. The chastity cage felt so heavy swinging back and forth every so slightly with each step. This was going to be a nightmare few days until I could procure the key. And I can't jerk off to boot. I continued up the stairs and opened the door to the living room, bracing myself to come face to face with the certain carnage unleashed last night by these rising Sophomores.
I was shocked by what I saw.
The entire place was completely spotless. No cans. No stains. Cleaner than it was before the party even. Sitting on the couch, seeming calm and focused was Ian. A near-splitting image of me wearing no shirt and another pair of the same athletic shorts. He was wearing - glasses. Funny, I've never seen him in glasses before. They made him seem cuter to be honest, more innocent. In one hand was a steaming cup of coffee. The smell hit me in the face, intoxicating. In front of him was his laptop, wire dangling from it and reaching to the wall. He was so engrossed in whatever he was reading he didn't even notice me come in. I took a few seconds to savor watching his flat stomach come in and out with his breath, this maybe being the last time I'd ever see him.
"Uhh.....what are you still doing here man?," I asked with genuine curiosity. Ian looked up at me, without emotion or surprise at my sudden entrance.
"Morning, dude. Just finished cleaning up. You want some coffee?"
I did.
"Uh. Nah, man."
"Well the pot's still hot if you change your mind," Ian added before getting back to his screen. My surprise was wearing off and I became increasingly frustrated Ian was ignoring the elephant in the room. Maybe he didn't remember either? A few more awkward seconds went by before I was forced to state the obvious.
"Ian." I wanted to state his name to signal seriousness. "Look man, this was fun and all but last night was completely over the line. I need you to give me the key to this....thing I'm wearing and leave my house."
"Yeah, I'm not going to do that." He paused, before returning the favor. "Chris."
His coldness mixed with defiance sent shivers down my spine.
"Uh...you're not going to give me the key or you're not going to leave my house?"
"Both. Actually," Ian responded without hesitation. A wry smile was the first sign of real life from him during this interaction.
"Stop being a shithead, dude. This isn't funny anymore. Give me the fucking key!" I was getting frustrated now.
"And what do you say?" Ian replied as if I were a child asking for dessert. I lingered on his question, just to make sure it wasn't a trick of some kind.
"Uh....please man. May I please have the key."
"Better. And no. No, you may not." I was incensed. He doesn't understand the joke wasn't funny anymore.
"Ian, I'm begging you, man. This is fucking serious. This shit is starting to hurt." Ian finally returned his gaze to me.
"It doesn't look like you're begging."
"What the fuck are you talking about, man?"
"You said you're begging me but you're not being especially convincing."
"What more do you want me to say, man? This is insanity!"
"Beg like you fucking mean it, shithead. And I'm only going to give you one chance at this." My head was spinning trying to keep up. What did he mean? I didn't want to tempt fate though either. I dropped to my knees. Cheesy and performative maybe, but whatever, I just need the key.
"Please. Ian. I fucking mean it. I am begging you to give me the key. You've gotten everything you've wanted out of this deal. I've let you use my house. I've paid for your booze. I've done your homework. All I want is to get out of this thing and we can go our separate ways. What do you want? More money? I'll give you $500 right now for the key. I'm fucking begging you man. Please. Please!"
Ian stood up and walked over to me with his coffee cup still in one hand. He towered over me on my knees before giving my face a little pup slap. "Good boy," is all he said before moving to the kitchen to pour a refill. I was hanging on pins and needles trying to predict his next move. This was maddening.
"Fuck this. Ian, you need to go. I'll find the key on....."
"You will be permitted to take off your cage every Sunday," Ian interrupted. "For five minutes. To clean it. We're going to skip tomorrow of course. If you're been a good boy that week I'll maybe let you get hard." I could hardly believe what I was hearing. He was speaking with such calm and confidence.
"What the fuck are you talking about man? You're going to leave right now and I'm going to buy the key online. I don't need this shit."
"You're not going to find the key, Chris. This model uses unique keys. It's black market. If you ever want your dick to breathe oxygen again you need me. I'm not going anywhere."
"You're fucking insane dude. Fuck this! I'm calling the cops. I'm telling them everything."
"And tell them what exactly? That the kid whose dick you've been sucking isn't playing nice? Don't be an idiot, Chris."
Fuck. I had to think fast.
"I'll tell them everything from the beginning. That you set me up. Took pictures of me. Made me do things. I have texts of you saying you were playing rough."
"Oh yeah. What texts? Show me. Phone's right there on the counter." I walked over and picked it up, immediately dubious of the convenience, but I decided to play along. I opened my phone and then the messages app and then Ian's contact..... my jaw dropped. Adrenaline began surging through my body reading what was in front of me. It was a spate of new texts between me and Ian. All sent the night before while I was constrained in the basement.
"Hey, we have a deal right baby boy?," the text in blue, sent at 12:30 AM.
"Sir, you know I don't like it when you call me that. It feels weird."
"Sorry, Ian. Lol. Just playing around. I've got the money, you have what I asked for?"
"Yes. Ready to go, Sir."
"Okay, sent. Check your Venmo."
I switched over to the Venmo app and sure enough, there was a transfer of $200 from me to him. I started feeling sick. Back in messages, continuing to scroll down, were the goods. Pictures of Ian naked. Dick hard. One of him bent over and his asshole bare. Fuck he is so hot.
"Just like you instructed, Sir."
Ian could see the shock on my face.
"You never changed your passcode you dipshit," Ian explained. "You made this too easy."
"I don't fucking believe this. This isn't me. I didn't type any of this."
"Try telling that to the police and see how far you get. There are multiple payments going back weeks, remember? I wonder what they would think those are all for?" Ian then put on the affectation of a child. "Officer, it was crazy! This man invited me into his house to give me water and then he starts coming on to me, offering me money to let him do things to me. I'm just a kid I didn't know any better!"
"You are pure fucking evil, Ian."
"Maybe I am," he said back with a smirk. "But am I any more evil than an adult who takes advantage of teenagers? You've had so many chances to cut this off before it was too late and you didn't. Do you ever ask yourself why that is?"
"Bu.........." I couldn't even get the first word out. Ian's comments were profound. I couldn't help but feel entirely responsible for this. He's right. What the fuck is wrong with me?
"You will be going to the bank later today to close out your account." Ian continued. "Any request you have going forward that requires money will go through me. Otherwise, your basic needs will be provided for. I'll be giving you new bank credentials to give to your employer for direct deposit."
My world started going dark as the adrenaline and fear kicked into high gear. He couldn't possibly be going through with this. How could his plan be so thought out? My dick was now pushing up against the inner walls of the chastity cage, adding a new wave of pain to the soreness I was already feeling down there.
"You will no longer be permitted visitors to your home. If someone asks to come over you say no. If your parents ask why you haven't invited them over in a while you make up some excuse. Just become the ungrateful son who never hosts."
As reality continued to set in, the anger welled inside of me. I was mad at myself for my utter foolishness, but I found myself even madder at Ian for orchestrating all of this. Mad at him for dangling Adam in front of me just to snatch him away.
"Your phone and computer will be monitored at all times. Adam wrote a little program for me. Uses AI or some shit. It knows how to detect if you're trying to tell anyone about this, deletes the message, and alerts us immediately."
"The fuck, Ian? Adam doesn't know how to do all that."
"Yeah, sorry, Chris. About that." He was positively beaming now. "We straight up lied to you. Adam isn't just interested in computers, he's a fucking savant. He already has an offer to join Google as soon as he finishes high school - which he's gonna do a year early. Really couldn't have gotten this far without him. So, actually, yes. He does know how to do all that."
Adam was in on this? I didn't know what to believe anymore. I did know I was feeling incredibly bitter thinking about Adam being just as depraved as Ian, being instrumental to this scheme. It.....just didn't feel like him. This was torture.
"Disobedience of any kind will be punished severely. You will learn to obey my orders without hesitation and without pushback."
I was breathing hard. My mind still spinning. This was absolute lunacy. How could this be happening to me?
"Beyond that you are free to live your life. It's not like I'm keeping you captive or anything. It won't be so bad. Different, sure. But better than the alternative, right? Okay. Any questions?"
My anger was boiling over. Both options seemed like hell to me.
"Fuck you, Ian!"
"Whoa there, buddy. That's no way to talk to someone who's literally keeping you out of prison. You know how badly your little hole would be ravaged in there? They would tear you apart."
There was only one way out of this in my mind.
"I'm not going through with this, motherfucker," I said coldly, now growing tall.
I was going to have to out-alpha the alpha.
His ceramic coffee mug exploded into dozens of pieces, sending sharp shrapnel everywhere. The former contents now splayed out on the kitchen floor like blood splatter. Ian didn't see this coming. No way he planned for this. I lost my balance on the way to the floor, but I connected with his knees well enough to push him back violently, causing one of his shoulders to crash straight into the white linoleum lining of my refrigerator, the muffled sound of clinking condiment bottles somehow escaping the icebox.
"Oh, you little motherfucker!" Ian said, with true seething anger.
I was already seeing stars. Completely out of body. Taking out all my frustrations on this....little demon that had so completely played me. Outsmarted me in every way. Better in every way.
He caught me before I could recover to a standing position, spearing my legs in a near tit-for-tat. We both tumbled out of the kitchen and into the neighboring foyer, warm, sticky coffee now layered on our exposed bodies. I stabbed at his hands with my feet, desperate to fight off his clawing grasp.
"You don't realize how much you are going to fucking regret this," Ian growled, as he started gaining ground, using my legs to pull me towards him. I twisted like a snake, using my skinnier frame to my advantage, and buying just enough daylight to draw myself up on my hands and knees with Ian behind me. He instantly collapsed on me, my arms shaking as they resisted Ian's attempts to pull them apart and force me into the ground. I was taken back to middle school gym class. Wrestling day. I've gotten out of this before.
I balled my fists and drew them both inward, pulling Ian's hands with them, causing them to extend beyond his reach. Without enough wingspan to support this maneuver, his grip on my right hand released naturally and his center of gravity reared off to my left side. His balance off, I was able to twist under and around, providing a sudden vacuum for Ian's twisting body to continue downwards to the floor. I impressed myself with this sudden display of agility.
When the tumbleweed of bodies finally came to a stop. I found myself on top of Ian, knees across his torso, hands on his shoulders, pinning him down.
I did it.
I won. I beat Ian.
Time came to a crawl as if approaching an event horizon. And for this one split second, I second I savored, celebrated with the same pomp and circumstance with my life's greatest accomplishments, I was the better man.
And then.
In an instant.
I wasn't.
Ian's sheer power was too great. With the grace of a gazelle, he leaped up, tearing me down, wrapping his bicep around my neck, and his powerful legs around my waist, holding me from behind in a chokehold. I could feel his bare chest and stomach on my back, sweat now having formed on both of us, creating a cold slime along with the coffee and dirt that we had already picked up. I bucked against his grasp a handful of times in a last-ditch effort to escape but I soon realized it was completely useless. Struggling for air. Gasping for breath. Spittle projected from my mouth as my eyes turned red and my vision started turning black. It was as if Ian was lending me just enough oxygen to avoid losing consciousness completely.
"What did you think was going to happen here, you pathetic faggot," Ian snarled directly into my ear. "You can't beat me. You will never beat me. Say it!"
I struggled to say anything with Ian's python of an arm constricting my voicebox.
"SAY IT MOTHERFUCKER," he repeated as his grip grew even tighter, my torso being crushed by his thighs.
"I....will never....beat you... Ian," I managed to get out.
"Your life is going to look a lot different, but you and I know you were born to do it. Everything you've ever known up to this exact moment was you living a lie. Isn't that right, faggot?!?"
"I....was born....to serve, Sir."
"Are you going to do everything I fucking tell you to, faggot?"
"Yes.... Sir.......Of course." I was on fumes. Losing the ability to process information.
"Are you completely fucking owned by me?"
"You.....own.....me......Sir."
With that, he let me go in one swift movement. I collapsed into a ball, gasping for breath. Heaving. A dusty crust marring my body. I was completely broken. It took a few moments to collect myself.
"You know the funny thing," Ian said after a few moments, calmly, sitting on the floor with his back leaning up against the wall, himself catching his breath but to a much less dramatic degree. "I think Adam really does like you." I looked up at him with doe eyes.
"Yeah, he asked for your number back this morning. I told him to fuck off back to New Jersey. To forget he's ever spoken to you."
My capacity for anger was completely spent. I was exhausted. Exhausted from trying to fight this man. Exhausted from trying to maintain control of my life. Exhausted from feeling like I was meant to be anything but a genetic mistake, completely forgotten about in life let alone after. I began sobbing. Uncontrollably. Uglying crying on the floor in front of him. Not even sure why. I just had to let something out. Ian let me vent, although he had a disgusted look on his face while doing it.
"The fucking odds," I said in between sniffs, trying desperately to contain the mucus now developing in unsustainable amounts in my nasal cavities. "I never saw you outside before that first day. The race. The fucking odds that freak encounter turns into.......this. It's all so fucked. I'm the unluckiest person on Earth."
"Oh stop being such a dumbshit, Chris. This wasn't some random thing."
Sniff "Huh?...what do you mean?"
"Stop it with this woe is me bullshit. You weren't unlucky to find me that day." I was now looking at him intently. "I fucking chose you."
"Wha....what?"
"You think this all happened naturally?" Ian chuckled. "Nah dude, I recruited you."
I wasn't sure what I was hearing.
"I saw you running a couple of weeks before that first day we raced," he continued. "You were the right age, right build, looked like a bitch. Check. Judging from your house, you had some money. Lived alone. Check check. I spent a year looking before that, but no one else was right. You were the best candidate by far. Once I had Adam tap your network and we got a look at your internet history. Well.....checkmate."
It didn't make sense. It seemed so organic. He was so innocent those first few encounters. Childlike. Operating on instinct, not this meticulously planned coup.
"I don't.....I don't understand. The wi-fi? I only let you into my house that second time because my wi-fi went completely out."
"You don't think someone capable of hacking your network can't make it go down for two minutes?," Ian laughed somewhat maniacally, "fuck off that was the easy part. The harder part was getting the bus stop reassigned to right in front of your house. Luckily, I got a bro whose mom is on the school board."
Ian continued.
"The only unknown was whether or not you were going to agree to sucking my dick. But I knew your darkest fantasies, and I knew my....assets," he said motioning gently to his crotch. "That was a risk I was willing to take. Once you dropped to your knees that first time, I knew it was over for you. It was just going to take time."
"I....I don't believe this, all in my own house." I said incredulously. "You are....who are you?"
"I am your God now, Chris," Ian said with authority and menace as he hoisted himself on the floor, now towering above me, "and this is my house now."
I looked up at him, brain scrambled by emotion, beaten to a pulp, dejected, embarrassed, tired, and fearful for what was next.
The cage twitched in my shorts.