Captive Ashe

My eyes have been closed for what feels like hours as I, in my restless state, try to force myself through the pattern of numbers that accompanied the tapping of my ring finger against my thumb. The nervous tick is hidden as my right arm dangles from the bed, the other tucked against me and aching as I wait for the arm that traps me to move. It doesn't. Even as he dozes in seeming peace, he occasionally shifts, waking only to pet my hair and tell me I'm his good boy. Each time I freeze and have to consciously relax my body with effort and breathe deep, counting to seven as I inhale and then again when I exhale. My foot swishes back and forth in the sheets, one of the few habits I'd been unable to hide or suppress. Luckily, he hadn't seemed to mind.

"You move your foot like a cat's tail flicking back and forth" His deep murmur was thunderous next to my ear. He knew I was awake and there was little use faking.

"It just happens..." I replied lamely. Yes, it happened. Just like the counting and the tapping, it happened but was becoming more frequent.

"You'll detox soon and feel better. My boy, my good boy." His sleepy whispers faded as his hand stroked the skin of my belly and side. After another excruciatingly long moment, he rolled onto his back and he fell into true sleep. It was always hard to tell. He was always such a light sleeper. I steeled my nerves and moved in slow increments, preparing excuses with each new shift. I was getting comfortable. My arm fell asleep. I need to use the bathroom. Then, I made it free of the bed and moved with my growing stealth, careful not to rattle the chain that scraped from the soft rug beneath the bed to the concrete floor and tiled bathroom.

There was no door, in effect was only a parrial wall against which the sink, mirror, and toilet were fixed. The other side of the bathroom was taken up by a large tub and flexible shower head visible from the doorway to the basement. Here, in this little meter square tile between the toilet and tub, is the only place in the room I can hide. I curl into myself, eyes wide, hands covering my ears as I rock back and forth, thankful for the bathmat cushioning the chain. I hold back the rising bile and hold back sobs as I stare at the stark white tiles.

It had been a week. Maybe not a full week, but about that. At first, I tried to rely on the meals he brought. The same meals came every day. Breakfast was oatmeal with apples and brown sugar. Lunch was a turkey sandwich and crisps. Dinner, though sometimes he granted me the reprieve when my stomach couldn't keep any food down, was a chicken breast with salad and rice. I was unable to eat the full meals at the best of times due to my nervous disposition and rapid stop of all my medications; something he called detox.

I shivered as my bare back tapped against the cold concrete wall. I couldn't stop rocking, couldn't close my eyes or mouth. My bottom lip trembled as my mind tumbled through the events of the past week and into the unbearable reality that I would be here for the foreseeable future. My stomach cramped again and I doubled over, forehead against the cold tile as I grit my teeth while folded in half. A cold sweat broke out over my skin and I shuddered as I waited for the cramps and waterfall of pain in my gut to pass.

My breath came out as an unhinged huffing laughter, only suppressed by the fear of waking him. I couldn't tell what pain I preferred as it cycled through varieties that flavored my hell here. I knew that this was the beginning. My mental health was bad before I was brought here, had been broken like this before and fell back into that shattered pattern so well. As the blood levels of my medications fell, I would start slipping further. I knew the patterns, had convinced myself it was worthwhile to go off my medications before and suffered dearly for it in the downward spiral that found me in this dungeon. More than this, I knew the pain would start soon. The sudden shattering lightning bolt of ice that would suddenly pierce my chest or hip, perhaps shoulder, and radiate down my limbs rendering me mostly immobile. This is what his detox would mean for me.

My ring finger tapped against the side of my head, my neurosis shifting its attention trying to relieve some of the taught anxiety that held me captive more so than the man in the bed.

How did I get here?

**

I'd been wracking my brain since I woke up several days ago. It felt odd, waking in the tub with the warm spray of the shower head pounding against my neck and chest as someone was washing my hair. I closed my eyes, leaned into it. It felt like a dream at first. The fuzzy edges, strange fluidity of motion, and the pull back to sleep. The water pooled in my lashes so I kept my eyes closed.

"You need to rinse with cold water." It was a mumbled afterthought, my voice small and seemingly far away.

He chuckled and I felt his large hand on my back, urging me forward. I melted beneath the warm spray of the shower head as he scrubbed my scalp and rivulets of acrid floral bubbles dripped down my face. I tried to hold my breath, lift my head, move away from the stench. I felt water enter my mouth and nostrils and began coughing. I felt the showerhead drop between my knees, only now realizing my thighs felt fuzzy and prickly as if they were asleep but my feet felt nothing even as they bumped into the sides of the tub.

Hands were on me immediately, pushing the water off my face and patting my back as he hushed me. "Shh, that's a good boy. Just breathe."

I gagged and coughed harder, my head swimming. I felt the saliva pooling in my mouth before my stomach dropped and I dry heaved. Saliva dripped from my bottom lip as my abdomen contracted, breath caught in my lungs as I shuddered. He stroked my soapy hair and, after a moment, slid into the tub behind me.

I whimpered as he pulled me back against him, his wide chest was bare as he tilted my chin up and once again began rinsing my hair. "You..dyed it?"

His fingers were gentle as he rinsed the remaining shampoo and lingering dye from my short mop of curls. The suds gone, he stroked down the back of my scalp, shaved short and sensitive to the lingering touch. My skin prickled. "I had to. It will grow out soon and we'll cut it off. Sorry. I had to go with box dye."

My eyes shot open and I felt my stomach lurch again. Bending in half as I held back the panic attack gripping me. Still groggy from what I assumed were drugs he'd given me, I couldn't grasp my situation. Now, it was becoming painfully clear. My breath was coming in short quick bursts as I stared down at the pale brown streaks as they disappeared into the drain. He said my hair would grow out and we would cut it. We. He expected me to be here for weeks, potentially months. I felt my vision become spotty as I hyperventilated. I couldn't speak but had so many questions. Couldn't turn my head to even see the face of this stranger.

"Ashe? Ashe!" His hands wrapped around me, pulling me against him, my bare legs scraping against his jeans as I sat on his lap. Terror further gripped me as he said my name. He held me against his chest. I felt his own breathing slow as he spoke. "Breathe deeper. Shh, it's okay. It's okay."

Faintly, I recognized an edge of panic in his voice as I struggled to breathe. Shutting my eyes tight I tried to focus on his chest and match him. He pushed my wet hair from my forehead and wrapped his arms around my waist. I could feel his breath against my neck, lips pressed against my back. I shivered. He shifted and I once again felt the warm water, this time on my chest. "Can you hold this?"

I felt the showerhead pushed into my hands and warm water pound my chest and stomach. Focusing on it, I managed to calm myself. Breathing in deep I mustered the courage to ask, "Why?"

It was an anguished plea from a small place inside me where I was desperately hiding and terrified. His hands began rubbing the conditioner through my hair. I thought he'd ignore me until he sighed. "I don't think now is the best time to discuss this. Let's finish your bath."

I whimpered, more scared by his attempt to put me at ease. He knew the answer would scare me. I let him rinse my hair again. The stress and something more pulled me toward sleep. Then he began to lather my body with a loofah. My back, shoulders, arms, and then he moved to my chest. His fingers brushed the undersides of my pecs where the twin scars rested. He carefully maneuvered the sudsy loofah around my nipples so as to not catch the rings in the loofah. He then rolled the rings between his fingers, attentively cleaning my nipples as the suds moved further down over my ribs then belly. I bit my lip and pressed my thighs together. My limbs felt heavy, arms shuddering intermittently as I held the showerhead.

"It's okay. We're just cleaning you up." His low voice rumbled through his chest, warm and kind even as he shifted position so I was sitting on his lap, legs open, feet trapped by his calves against the side of the tub. I could feel his erection through his rough wet jeans as it pushed against my ass. I tried to move away, only succeeding in rocking against his growing cock. "Shh, calm down baby. You're enjoying this, right? You wouldn't want to stand here and do this yourself. You can barely hold this. Good boy."

He took the showerhead from my shaking hands and they felt limp to my sides. I couldn't push his hands away if I tried. As the warm spray of water wandered over my body, I felt the loofah press against my lower belly then pubic mound. I groaned, wanting it to be over. "Your body is so sexy." His gravelly voice startled me.

My heart thrummed in my chest. Lips against my ear, I felt him breathing heavier as he nibbled my earlobe. The switch from doting caretaker to predator was rapid. One arm wrapped around my chest, the spray of the shower head now dropped to my thigh. He suddenly pushed the loofah against my crotch, gently rubbing then squishing a mound of sudds between my thighs to drip down onto the crotch of his pants below me. The tingling effects of whatever had knocked me out combined with the hot water and attention to my body was bringing me closer to arousal than I wanted.

The loofah dropped to the floor of the tub and I felt his fingers roaming over the shamefully puffy lips of my pussy. My hips jerked involuntarily as he spread his ring finger and middle finger, sliding them first down my pussy lips then up as he spread me wide open, finishing by pinching my clit between the two fingers. My hips moved on their own, lewdly dropping and widening to give him a better angle. He repeated this motion several times before I felt the spray of the shower head suddenly focus on my cunt, washing away the suds even as he punished my clit.

"Good boy. That's why." He murmured as he tilted my head to face him. My eyes were heavy lidded and locked on his sensual mouth, mouth open and panting as he twisted his fingers slightly to elicit a yelp and jerk of my hips. "Such an erotic face. A needy little slut boy. Ashe..."

As he whispered my name his fingers slid down my cunt then slid inside. Both fingers filled me and I clenched around them. Groaning, he nuzzled my neck and I couldn't help but watch as he slid his fingers out of me then slowly pushed them back in before separating them and spreading me wide as he slid them out. He licked my neck and I shivered. "Good boy, watch more."

"Nooo." I moaned. He bit my neck and I felt his palm slam against my clit as his fingers fucked me. The wet squelched echoed in the room as I squirmed on his lap. I felt my body tense, back arching, then my head dropped against his shoulder as an orgasm racked my body. Holding my breath as my belly tightened I was vaguely aware of fucking his fingers back, rocking my hips against his hand even as he held it still. I took a shuddering breath as the waves of pleasure ebbed.

"Fuck, Ashe." He was panting, looking over my shoulder at the erotic display. I whimpered in response, trying desperately to get my hips to stop moving. I was always like this, my first orgasm breaking the barriers I'd put up and becoming so turned on I couldn't help but lose myself. Now, it had happened with a stranger who was my captor.

"Did it feel good?" His fingers curled, pushing against my g-spot as if to remind me they were still inside. "It did. You came on my fingers, sweet boy."

I breathed heavily, anger and shame reddening my face and chest. Stupid and obstinate, I muttered "No."

"No? Oh, I think so." His fingers slipped from between my legs, slick with my wetness. I closed my eyes as he brought the slick fingers to my lips and pushed through so they could press against my tongue. He rubbed the taste of me against the inside of my mouth before pulling them out and putting them in his own mouth and sucking. "Tell me again you aren't wet, Ashe. It's like you're begging me to make you drip. Will you beg for my cock then?"

I wanted to say no, to wrench my body away and run as far as my legs would take me. Unfortunately, that wouldn't even get me to the door. I kept quiet, instead shifting uncomfortably to try and shut my legs, eventually managing to slide my hands over my wet pink sex. I felt shame slowly drip down over my ass cheeks and wet my fingertips. I couldn't deny he'd made me cum.

He chuckled, taking my silence as his victory. I sat still as he turned off the shower and pulled me up to my feet. He dried my hair with a large gray towel and patted-down my body. I watched him, still in his soaked jeans with a hard-on. His hair was long and dark, hanging down the sides of his face as he knelt to dry my legs. He had several tattoos, but my eyes couldn't focus on them. I wondered if my glasses were here somewhere. He lifted my foot and I instinctively pressed my hands to his shoulders for support. When he looked up at me, his dark eyes glinted with lust. I immediately pulled my arms back but it was too late.

He lifted me as he rose, my nails dug into his shoulders as he carried me out of the bathroom and tossed me on the full sized bed, the sturdy iron frame barely moving as I hit. He stripped off his jeans as I watched in shock. "You said that we were just cleaning up!" I blurted out, grasping at straws.

He stalked towards the bed. I looked away from him, scared to see the large member that rose between his legs. Crawling back on the bed, I shivered as my back hit the wrought iron headboard. I closed my eyes tight as his face neared mine. Softly, he nuzzled my cheek, kissed my jaw, then rapidly his hand gripped my neck and dragged me down to the middle of the bed.

My mouth opened and closed in shock, thinking of what to say; if I could even say it. He stared into my eyes and tightened his grip. My body arched. Hands ineffectively resting against his forearm as I tried to focus on breathing and holding back my reaction. He swiftly moved over me, one thigh pressed between my legs as his lips pressed against my temple.

"Ashe... I know you far better than you can imagine. Don't think you're here because of random chance. You are here because I wanted you. Understand?" His cruel chuckle accompanied another squeeze of my throat. I whimpered and felt my back arching, thighs closing tight around his leg. He pulled away just enough to watch my face shift to an erotic gasp. He knew my name and my weaknesses. I felt tears trailing down my temples as he loosened his grip till his hand was just resting on my throat. I shifted anxiously against him.

"Beautiful" He breathed. I looked away and brought my arms up, covering my face as I held back a sob. He pushed my arms away, sweeping them above my head with one hand where he pinned my wrists, exposing me to his ever wandering eyes that roamed my body like the planes of a yet-to-be conquered land. Lowering his head to my chest, he licked my sternum and let his free hand roam over my side. He stroked up my ribcage to my chest where his thumb rubbed my nipple, flicking it gently before his mouth covered it and caught the ring between his teeth and pulled. My back arched, chest following him as he pulled. His hand pushed punishingly down on my hip as he let go of the ring and I was pushed back down onto the bed.

He watched me cower beneath him, my body burning and aching for relief. I glared at him. I was dizzy and disoriented, but I'd be damned if he thought for a moment I wanted this from him. A crooked smile bloomed on his face as he bent over me and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was hard and when I refused to open my mouth, he dug his thumb into my jaw till the pain opened it for him. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and stroked my palate and tongue, a plundering kiss that left me breathless. He pressed his leg against my cunt and I whimpered. His voice was low. Angry. "I want you to ask for it."

The sound of his request felt as if it lingered in my mouth as he continued to kiss me. I bit down on his tongue and was pinned by my throat. His eyes hardened as he brought his face to mine. "Hurt me again and I'll spank some sense into you, Ashe."

Tightening his grip till I couldn't breathe, he let go and let me gasp for breath. I sat up while coughing and he pushed me back down before dragging me to the edge of the bed. When my ass hung off, he pushed my knees to my shoulders and locked my legs in position with his hands gripping the backs of my thighs. Hot breath rolled over my sex as his lips tenderly brushed my skin.

His tongue lalved my lips then curled into my depths, stiffening and pushing inside of my vagina before swirling around my clit. He let his saliva cover my pussy till it was dripping down and causing me to wriggle beneath him. I felt him chuckle against my cunt before sucking my clit into his mouth and rubbing along the sides of my pussy with his tongue. I shuddered and began to breathe heavily. I knew I'd cum again if he continued. I whined as I pushed against his head and tried to wiggle free. His hands grabbed mine as he deepened his affections, sucking my lips and nibbling at the swollen flesh. I whimpered and bucked against him.

"You want more? Greedy boy." He licked over my pussy again. This time licking further down to my perineum then my asshole. I moaned in surprise and then felt one of his hands slip away only for his middle finger to plunge into my cunt as his tongue worked its way into my tight asshole making me squirm. The long thick finger felt like a tease as it slowly pumped in and out of me. He sucked on the sensitive place between my cunt and asshole, his tongue sliding in a little deeper as he varied the pressure and drove me mad. "More?"

It was muffled and I could have ignored it, except I felt his ring finger gently prodding and spreading me open. My self control broken, I whispered "More."

I felt him grin before he slid in a second finger and rocked his hand against my cunt, keeping the thick digits inside me as he rocked his fingers back and forth to stroke my g-spot. He filled me up and I wanted more still. I felt his tongue slip from my asshole and shuddered. When I looked down, he was watching me as he finger fucked me. He slid his fingers almost all the way out of my pussy before thrusting them back in. Repeating this several times, he had me squirming. His voice was gruff as he pushed my thighs up against my chest. "Tell me you want it." Then his fingers slid from my pussy to his cock where he stroked himself with the mix of my pussy juice and his saliva.

Eyes dazed and everything else driven from my brain, I said it. "I want it."

Slick cockhead pressing against my clit, I whimper. He purred in my ear. "Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words."

I shuddered, my voice catching in my throat. I'd said I wanted it before I could think. I shook my head and pushed away from him. He chuckled and gripped my hips and began whispering in my ear. "Ashe, tell me what you want. Let me relieve you."