This chapter has some sexual content, and it's non-con. Nothing crazy though, yet.
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Enjoy.
Chapter 4:
I slept in the next morning. I didn't wake up until 11:30.
I walked out of my room and looked down at the captive Russian. His hands were still tied behind the thick wooden pillar in the middle of our cabin. He was sat on the floor with his head hanging down, his brown bangs almost covering his eyes. I watched his chest rise and fall slowly. He was fast asleep. I'm not surprised. He went through a lot of beatings yesterday, including Thermite taking out some of his anger on him when he and Frost returned from their search. The bandage around his throat was almost completely soaked red, and he smelled. He smelled like blood, sweat, and pine.
I walked around him and joined Thermite and Frost at the small kitchen table, sitting down carefully, as I was still sore.
"So, when are we gonna move?" I ask as I drink from my fresh brewed coffee.
"I talked to them today. We may not have to move," Thermite answered. I looked into his blue eyes. They're much darker than Glaz's.
"What do you mean? Those crazy assholes aren't too far away from us," I remind him. He replies, "They're not too close, either. Anyway, I told the superiors about our p.o.w. here. They're extremely interested in 'talking' to him. They said they're considering this to be a successful operation once they get him into their hands, which means we're probably gonna go home soon." He smiled at me. I looked at him in awe, "No shit?" I chuckled a bit, in disbelief. This is what I was hoping for. My cabin—my own personal cabin at home in Canada—was waiting for me. The way I left it and love it. With my comfortable bed, my hunting supplies, and my solitude. Frost will go home to her little girl, which makes me even happier to think about. Thermite will be home with his wife and daughter. They really had much more to lose than I did… So I am incredibly thankful they are safe and able to return to their family.
Frost chimes in, "They told us to continue our duties per usual for now, but I hope they contact us soon." She's smiling, looking but anxious.
"Also," Thermite looks at me, "Heard this morning that Ash made it to the hospital alright. She's stable. They think she's got a good chance of recovery." Good news and better news. This is the kind of day I needed. I can't help but smile and feel a little giddy. Most of all, I'm thankful. For everything.
Frost and I went out to hunt that afternoon. We stalked around the snowy dead woods for our prey. I wanted a deer. I wanted a great meal to celebrate today.
"I hope he doesn't die," Frost randomly says. "Who? The sniper?" I ask. I look off to the distance, thinking I spotted something moving.
"Yeah. When Thermite was on the phone with our superiors they sounded excited to get him alive," She looked off in the trees off to my side.
"Yeah, that's because they can extract information out of him," I respond. She sighs, "I know that, Buck. I'm saying if he were to die, I don't know if we'd have the same chances of going home."
"He's not gonna die," I was getting a little annoyed, "I don't want to talk about him," I pointed off to the trees on my right, "There. I saw a doe over there!"
She sighed again, but got back in the game once she saw the group of doe. We silently made our way closer to them, perfectly quiet. The doe never saw us. I signaled her to stop and kneel beside me as I knelt down. We were behind a fallen tree, hidden well behind some bushes that were common around here. I pulled up my rifle and laid it across the fallen tree, tucking the butt of my gun into my shoulder and peeking through the sights. All I could hear was occasional sticks breaking from the doe shuffling around in the distance. It echoed through the trees.
I picked my target. Amongst the doe was a fawn. I don't know if it's the same one I saw before, a few days ago when I had tried to shoot Glaz. But seeing it there made me think of him. His bloody fingers had stroked the fawn's soft nose, in a rare, but beautiful opportunity.
There was a loud bang, then the doe and fawn scattered. We quickly went to retrieve the fallen doe left behind by her herd. She was hit in the heart; an instant death. Frost and I both made quick work of butchering it. It was so fresh that when we cut open her belly, steam rose out of it. We put as much good meat into our plastic bags, inside our backbacks, and carried back plenty of venison for dinner tonight.
Later that night, we sat around the kitchen table, eating venison stew that I had made, including the organs, and venison steak that Frost cooked up. It never ceased to amaze me how much good food can improve my mood.
We chatted until we all finished eating. I offered to do dishes, and we gave each other a goodnight. As I was drying my hands after the dishes, I turned to see Glaz looking at me from the pillar. Even from afar, his eyes were stunning.
I put the towel on the counter then headed over to him. He kept his eyes on me as I sat down in front of him. I felt smug.
"Why are you looking at me?" I ask.
"Am thirsty." He replies. The bags under his eyes were still red. I looked down at the bloody bandage around his neck, then back into his eyes, "What do you want me to do about it?"
"Give water," he says, sounding a little demanding. I chuckle, "Not if you talk to me like that. You're not in charge, here." I reach for his neck, intent on getting ready to change his bandages. He jerks away from my touch.
"I'm changing them, hold still," I command him.
"Not touch me. Give water, and food." He's glaring at me.
"You've been a real pain in my ass. I'm not giving you shit. Especially when you talk to me like that," I glared back at him before getting up to get some new medical supplies. He was still looking at me, even when I sat back down in front of him.
My hands reached back up to his throat, one hand with a small pair of scissors to cut through the bandage. Glaz fidgeted, clearly not wanting me to touch him. He growled, "Water, first,"
I was getting annoyed. He's good at doing that to me. I put my hand on his throat, not hard, but I kept it there even when he tried to move away. He couldn't move far being tied down. The thought made my adrenaline flare up, and gave me goosebumps.
"Listen, you little shit," I spoke low but firm, "I'm gonna jam these scissors in your throat if you try to ask me for anything again." I was serious. He must have been able to tell, because he let me go on to cut the bandage off, albeit unhappily.
When I pulled the last part of the bandage off, it hurt him, as the dried blood had essentially glued the gauze to his wound. Once I removed it, I was a little surprised, again, at how deep the slash really was. It was gaping open as I had his chin tilted up. It started to bleed again, as well, but not as much as yesterday. Whenever I heard him swallow, I could tell his throat was very dry.
I cleaned the wound out again, and he was shifting around awkwardly the entire time, just like before. I tried to ignore it. I applied some antibacterial gel in and around his wound, and he made an odd sigh and shivered. His face was red and he looked annoyed now, but didn't look at me. He was biting his lip.
I was curious to see if he was aroused again, but I was afraid he'd see me take a look. I also couldn't believe that the thought of looking at his crotch even crossed my mind. I blame it on the fact I've been alone for too long.
But I looked, and I saw the bulge in his pants again. He was really horny. I couldn't figure it out before, but it was obvious to me now that it was because he enjoyed me touching his throat. I don't know if it was just his thing, or if it was the relief of his wound being tended to. Either way, I was causing this response, and it made me feel uncomfortable. It made me blush, especially when I saw his reddened cheeks paired with his ice-blue eyes.
Now I was taking my time. I was applying more gel to his wound, continuing to spread it around with my fingers. He never told me to stop, but he kept trying to hide his boner with his legs up to his chest. My mouth opened before I could even think, "Look at me," I demanded. I shocked myself with that command. I got a chill when he obeyed and looked at me. Why am I so obsessed with his eyes? I don't know, but I am, badly.
While he's looking at me, I continue massaging the gel in. He looks angry with me and his breathing has sped up since I started cleaning him up. My eyes bore into his. I felt thrilled, that I was controlling this. I'm lost in the moment. At some point, my other hand was between his knees, which he was holding tightly together so my hand couldn't pass through.
"Stop," he said, nervously, looking down at my trespassing hand.
"Look at me," I command again, more sternly. My hand covered over top of his wound, slowly, until it was softly gripping his throat under his chin and jaw. I forced him to keep his head up and facing me. He looked at me with a look of fear and irritation. And he was very physically exhausted.
I tried to gently pry my hand between his legs, but he fought it. I was getting impatient. I wasn't in reality anymore.
"Open," was all I said. He stared at me, anxious, and kept his legs closed.
"Open your fucking legs," I threaten. I'm scaring myself. I don't know why I'm doing this, but I want it to happen, and that's overriding everything else. When he slowly opens up his knees, I look down at his bulge. My own dick twitches violently. I don't even question it. I just feel want.
I slid my hand down to his bulge, feeling the warmth directly underneath. I looked back up into his eyes and gave it a squeeze. He opened his mouth and sighed. I look at his neck. That's the sensitive spot that started this. I can see him trying to figure out what I'm gonna do. I got on my knees, removing my hand from his throat so I can pin his head against the pillar, his head turned to the side. I grip his hair firmly so he can't really move his head. My other hand never left his dick, and in fact, gave it another, firmer squeeze. After he made another breathy sound, I leaned in to his throat and gave a curious lick to one end of the slit in his throat. I felt him squirm under me just a little, but he kept his mouth shut. My dick was growing quick, throbbing and tightening against my pants.
I'm the one making him horny, and he hates it. I groan under my breath and began essentially making out with his throat, licking over his wound, up and down, across, back and forth. It elicits from him small hisses and sounds of pain. It also makes him jerk his head in reaction, making him pull his own hair under my fingers. But I focus mainly on pleasuring him, giving kisses and little licks over his wound. It's still bleeding, and the gel tastes awful, but I'm enjoying this intensely. At this point he's full on struggling under my hand massaging his dick through his pants.
All sorts of ideas run through my adrenaline-fueled mind: jerking him off and making him beg for it, making him suck my dick… but I'd be too afraid that he'd do something stupid like bite it. He moans as I'm lost in thought, and it turns me on that I can tell he's trying damned hard to stay quiet.
"Stop!" He spits in a hushed voice. I shush him and growl into his neck before continuing my kisses and tastes. The feel of his hard dick under my hand and groping fingers is killing me. I want to see it. But I know I can't dare to undress him here in the cabin. Thermite or Frost could see. Fuck, they could catch me right now. I sigh, heavily, into his neck before pulling away and turn his head to me with both of my hands. I look back and forth between his eyes and lips. I take a lick at his busted lip before I bite it, purposely making it break open again and bleed. It made he made a stifled yelp sound. His eyes are watery, and when he closes his eyes tight, tears leak down his face. I feel a small pang of guilt, but ignore it.
"Kiss me," I say to him, lips already brushing against each other.
"No…" he quietly refuses. He tries to turn his head away, but I'm holding it in place. I need him to kiss me before I cease my actions. I can't risk getting caught by my teammates.
I kiss gently at his lips before I demand again, "Kiss me," One hand grips under his jaw as I plant another kiss on his lips. I prod at his lips with my hot, wet tongue, but he won't open. I'm frustrated he's not cooperating anymore. I want to hit him, but I don't want to make any noise. "Fuck, fuck…" I whisper lividly into his ear as I think of what to do next.
I think of a different tactic, whispering in his ear again, "I'll give you water if you behave…" Once I plant that into his head, I go for another kiss. He opens his mouth for my tongue, and I eagerly explore his mouth. I push my lips hard against his. I can hear and feel him whimpering in his throat as I passionately make out with him. He's only shyly licking at my tongue, motivated only by the promise of water.
I pull away, breathless, and completely hard now. I want more, so much more than this. When I completely take my hands off of him and sit back down on my feet, I'm hit by reality. I'm still wildly turned on, but I'm utterly confused and concerned about what I've just done. I can't take any of it back. I've never sexually assaulted anyone… I've never acted, nor felt, so animalistic. I feel fucking awful. I want to just leave the room, but I remember I still have to bandage him back up.
I'm in shock as my boner dies down. I can't look him in the eye. He's still breathing a little quickly, but otherwise he's soundless. I can see his tears have left bright streaks through the patches of old dried blood and dirt on his face. He takes a lick at his bleeding, swollen lip off and on and sniffles some.
Without saying another word for the rest of the night, I finished dressing his throat, and I gave him a glass of water. As I helped him drink it, I couldn't help but admire his face. I liked that he was drinking only with my help. That he had to listen to me to get water. When I touched his throat, and kissed it, and licked it, and nibbled it… he got turned on, despite himself. I did all this.
I went to bed, unable to keep him out of my mind. I went over the experience over and over, feeling guilty, scared, anxious, and super fucking horny. I was trying to make sense of my feelings and behaviors, but all it came down to was that I enjoyed what I was doing, so I did it. The feeling of 'want' took over everything, and my body took over from there. I can't let it happen again.
But, I fell asleep after cumming to the fantasies of what I wanted to do with him. I came harder than I ever remember. They're just fantasies, they're harmless…
Next chapter coming soon…