Axtons hands were cuffed, a chain holding them high above his head. Suspended so that only
the balls of his feet made contact with the ground below him. He strained to lower his shoulders,
lessen the tension in his aching lats, but achieved nothing.
He was cold, the room was dim and unforgiving. He could feel the metal walls and floor sucking
the heat from him.
Axton knew better than shout out. He'd been strung up in rooms like this before, tortured in the
name of interrogation, and held prisoner. But he had no recollection of who had put him here
this time. The harder he tried to remember, the less and less he actually did.
There was a muffled sound from somewhere beyond his vision, a mechanical whir. A door he
couldn't quite make out opened, briefly soaking the room in an artificial light that hurt Axton's
eyes. He squinted to try and adjust back to the dark, to see who was walking toward him and try
to brace against whatever method they were going to use on him this time.
The footsteps stopped, and there was silence while Axton peered into the shadows, tense.
He waited, abs taught in defense.
Nothing.
No words, no questions, no fists connecting with bone: there was nothing but silence.
Axton shuffled on his feet, uncomfortable with the tension in his body and in the air.
He heard the footsteps again, closer. The dark shape of a person loomed in. Tall, sharp, broad
shoulders: clearly a man.
A hand reached out and Axton flinched, only then noticing his shirt was unbuttoned.
Fingers trailed his exposed flesh, running over one of the few significant scars on his stomach.
Axton could feel the man circling him as he touched him, and turned to face him as he came up
on his right.
Two mismatched eyes looked back at him with an intensity that forbade Axton to look anywhere
else.
Axton's body prickled, goosebumps instantly raising all over. He felt an internal shiver run
through him while he stared into Jack's eyes.
Still, there were no words.
Jack maneuvered himself in a way so that he was facing the commando straight on. His hand
dipped to the waistline of Axton's cargo pants, pulling at the fabric and unsteadying Axton's
precarious balance.
Frozen where he hung, Axton felt his body move to the will of Jack's hands. As he came back to
his central position, unharmed, he looked down questioningly. Jack hadn't hurt him. What was
he doing? Looking back up, expecting to see Jack, Axton saw nothing but empty space.
He sucked at air, his chest heaving in a panic as he tried to twist his head, scanning the room.
Suddenly, he felt Jack from behind him, the force of his surprised contact knocking Axton's feet
from under him again.
Jack wrapped his arms around the commando, one hand gripping his rapidly rising chest, the
other firmly clamping around his neck.
The grasp was tight, holding his body so that the ground was just out of his reach.
Axton's feet flailed as he tried to plant them on the floor again, but the hand around his strong
neck tightened, and Axton tensed all over.
His airway was clear: Jack deliberately avoided crushing his windpipe, instead clenching around the two rubbery tendons on either side, making his head buzz, yet Axton held his breath subconsciously, assuming he had no other choice.
It wasn't until Jack's other hand dipped beneath his trousers with ease that Axton acknowledged
it, flinching inwardly at the sudden, uncontrollable jolt he felt as Jack cupped his hand around
his still soft flesh, making his body tense even more. The commando tried to pull free, but he
had no anchor. His entire body weight rested on the maniac behind him, and Jack held him
effortlessly while he squirmed and grunted.
He felt Jack's hand tense, felt his fingers dig in a little deeper, and hoped he would pass out
before the pain came.
Almost as if reading his mind, Jack loosened his grip around Axton's neck, and he gasped at air
despite never being starved of it. Jack circled his hand over the commando's stiffening flesh,
encouraging it to reveal itself to him.
Axton bit down onto the corner of his lip and clenched his eyes shut. His chest began to move
erratically once more as Jack expertly worked him.
Axton tried to kick back into Jack, but Jack had full control over him and dodged it easily.
In retaliation, he felt Jack's hand squeeze his neck again, and instantly felt a pressure in his
head once more.
He instinctively froze, and held his breath, and Jack just kept stroking him, waiting.
Under his fingertips, Jack could feel the commando's pulse slow. He placed his mouth by
Axton's ear and finally broke his silence.
'Breathe, kitten.'
As if suddenly remembering how to, Axton gasped a loud, mouthy breath that almost echoed
around the room.
There was a deep throb coming from Axton's crotch that echoed in his stuffy head, and both
men were aware of how aroused he had become. Where Axton was once cold, the heat
emanating from his cock had taken over.
Seemingly pleased, Jack slowly lowered the commando until he could once again support
himself, and in the brief moment of contact Axton could feel Jack's own arousal against his ass.
Jack dropped the commandos trousers and let them pool at his ankles, his cock standing proud,
cooling against the air of the room whilst the buzzing in his head slowly subsided.
He was left untouched once more, and Axton grunted in frustration, shuffling his feet and rolling
his head back.
When Jack returned, he had something in his hand that Axton couldn't quite make out. He
flinched somewhere deep inside.
He watched Jack as he knelt in front of him, felt his fingers grasping at his cock once more.
Those two mismatched eyes looking up at him made Axton wish that he could just reach down
and force himself into Jack's pretty little mouth.
Jack leaned in, the tip of his tongue visible between his parted lips, and Axton watched
anxiously while his cock throbbed.
It was then that Jack raised his hand, and Axton's eyes widened. He pulled at his restraints and
tried to kick Jack's hand away, but only managed to lose his balance and swing miserably until Jack steadied him. In a second, the madman was behind him again, his rock hard cock pressing against Axton as he held him off the ground.
Putting all of the commando's weight on his upper body, Jack held the mans dick firmly with one
hand, and the knife with the other.
Axton struggled until he felt the blade against his skin.
'No, no, no, wait!' He pleaded, swallowing his pride.
His flesh burned as the blade bit into it slowly, Jack deliberately taking his time.
Axton went into a panic, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. He grit his teeth and tried
to move away, pulling on his cuffs until they too cut through him.
He groaned in pain as Jack moved the knife back and forth in a sawing motion, chewing up his
softening flesh.
His breaths came short and sharp, never filling his lungs properly. His eyes rolled into the back
of his head as darkness took over, his mind fuzzy and unresponsive.
Jack could feel the commando losing consciousness, he motioned to the room around him and
waited for the bucket of water he requested.
'Just breathe, kitten...'