Hector

I fought back a shiver, plowing my way through the snow to the farmhouse up the hill.

My toes were numb inside my old boots, and my fingers weren't much better--though I'd scavenged a set of gloves from an abandoned garage last week.

Shoving my hands into my armpits, I forced myself to keep trudging toward the dim orange light spilling out the farmhouse window.

After the pandemic, the small number of survivors had carved out whatever kind of existence they could. It was rough going, and now I lived in a town, population one. It didn't have power, but there was a creek that ran through for an endless water supply.

Cactus lived up the hill. He had solar panels, which meant running water and power. As such, he had the path up to his place booby-trapped to hell and back.

Scavengers swept through every so often. They were often a murderous lot, and only the tough survived these days. Cactus was tougher. He liked to put their boots and tattered clothes on scarecrow displays along his property, complete with impeccable signage stating his opinion on trespassers.

I picked my way through the mess, having covertly watched him traverse the disaster zone many times.

Stopping at the wooden fence, I stamped my feet to try and get some feeling back.

"Cactus McGee, if you shoot at me again, you ain't fucking me tonight," I bellowed, pushing the gate open and stepping onto the brick pathway.

I paused, the gate held wide in case I needed to haul ass out of there.

Wispy snowflakes drifted down in lazy spirals, highlighting the utter silence.

Well, no sound was a good sound. Last time, I'd heard the ratchet of a shotgun right before Cactus had tried to bury a load of buckshot in me.

Stomping up the porch, I kicked the lip of the top step to knock the snow off my boots and moved to the door. It swung open before I could knock, and Cactus McGee beckoned me inside with the business end of a shotgun.

"Clothes off," he ordered.

"Aw, come on, Cactus. It's cold as balls out."

The barrel leveled with my chest. "Off. All of it. Or no food."

I shucked my various layers and my knives, wrapping my arms around me with a shiver.

Cactus gave me a once over then leered at my crotch.

"It's cold," I reiterated through gritted teeth.

He waved me towards the kitchen with the gun, and I went without argument.

The chair was already set up for me, dangling handcuffs in place. I sat, and he snapped the open cuff around my left wrist. My stomach growled, drowning the metallic clicks of the cuff, now that I could see the spread on the table.

Soup. Bread. Some kind of green veggie.

Cactus went around to his side of the square table and set the shotgun aside, dropping into his chair and crossing his arms. "Let's negotiate terms," he said, grinning.

I hesitated, my stomach dropping. "What do you mean? I let you fuck me, you give me food. That's the deal."

He shook his head. "That was the deal last time. This time, it'll cost you more."

I sat back in my chair, studying him as I realized what a precarious position I was in.

I was eighteen, and Cactus was definitely way older. I didn't know how old, but even though his thick black hair had a little gray in it on the sides, he was still bigger than me. Lean muscle corded his lanky frame, and I'd found out the hard way that he was stupid fast.

"How much more?" I tried not to look at the food, knowing I wouldn't be able to keep the want off my face. But my stomach yowled and gurgled anyway, letting him know how little leverage I truly had.

"Two hours."

I chewed it over. "No deal. Let me go."

It didn't faze him, didn't knock that stupid smirk off his face. "I have meat. If I put meat on the table, you're mine for two hours."

Meat. I missed meat so fucking much.

Damn him. He had me, and he knew it.

"Fine," I bit out.

Cactus stood, taking his shotgun with him to the kitchen. He came back with a covered plate, which he slid in front of me. "Bon appétit," he said, pulling the lid off.

The chunks of meat were brown and juicy. I couldn't tell what animal, but I didn't much care. I grabbed a steaming hunk and stuffed it in my mouth, deciding right then and there that however many fucks he could fit in two hours would be totally worth it.

Cactus watched me eat for a bit before he picked up his spoon and started on his soup.

The food was gone too soon. I was stuffed, though. Cactus hadn't skimped on his end of the deal, I had to give him that.

"Alright," he said, after clearing the dishes. "Your two hours start now."

He tossed the handcuff key over, shotgun trained on me. "Unlock the cuff on the chair and put it on with your hands behind your back."

I shoved to my feet with a shiver, doing as he asked. He motioned me through the living room and into a doorway I'd never seen, following behind me but leaving space between us.

I stopped just inside the dark room, hesitating.

Bedroom. Thick curtains blocked the reinforced windows. But even in the dim light, I could see a massive bed. Dark sheets. Thick blankets. Heavy metal frame at the head. The room was spotless, nothing out of place.

"On the bed, face down," Cactus said from behind me. "I'll cuff you to the frame."

I didn't move, everything inside me rebelling. If he wanted to, Cactus could keep me here forever. At least in the kitchen, I felt like I had some chance to make a break for it if things went sour.

"Hey," Cactus said softly, making me jump. "We can go back to the living room if you want. Hell, we can do it in the barn. I just thought the bed would be more comfortable."

I swallowed hard. "Are the cuffs really necessary?"

That made him laugh. "You forget that I know you, spitfire. Last time I bent you over, you damn near stabbed me in the leg with your fork. So yeah, cuffs stay on. I don't need any extra holes in me. I already got enough of those in the military."

"Reflex," I muttered. It had been, truly. He'd startled me, and I'd reacted.

"I know," he said easily. "That's why I didn't beat your ass. Now let's go, time's a-wasting."

I rocked on my feet, trying my best to override the instincts that were telling me to run. Cactus waited patiently until I was able to force myself forward.

Reaching the bed, I awkwardly scooted across the blankets with my shoulders and knees. It should have felt humiliating, being so exposed, but honestly, I was just surprised at how soft his blankets were and how warm the bedroom was.

Cactus flipped on the lights, waiting. As soon as I went still, he clambered up behind me and straddled my hips. Pinning one of my arms under his knee, he undid the cuff from it. After looping the free cuff around the metal frame, he released the arm under his knee and moved my wrist up to the open bracelet to snap it in place.

I tugged at the cold metal reflexively, trying to suppress a shiver. The cuffs held. I wasn't going anywhere.

Cactus climbed off the bed, stripping off his flannel shirt. Strong forearms came into view, but what caught my eye were the blue-black symbols running up his left arm. I squinted at them, trying to figure out what they were.

The t-shirt came off next, and I couldn't help but stare. A fine layer of dark hair did nothing to hide his smooth brown skin and hard sheets of muscle. Fuck, he was jacked.

The dark designs on his forearm turned into a solid sleeve of symmetrical patterns over his biceps and a roaring lion over his left chest.

I cocked my head, momentarily stunned. "You have pictures on your skin."

Cactus froze and blinked at me, slightly hunched over with his pants halfway off. "Christ, it always surprises me how random the knowledge gaps are for you apocalypse babies. Yeah. It's a tattoo. Uh, ink. Injected under the skin to make the design."

His pants landed in a heap, and he hooked his thumbs over the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down.

It was my turn to freeze.

I hadn't seen his cock last time.

It was long and thick, nestled in a patch of curly black hair. The fat mushroom head was leaking already, and I immediately decided that it was not going inside me. Nope.

I jerked at the cuffs, no longer able to choke down the fear. "I changed my mind. Let me go."

Cactus tutted and shook his head, giving his cock a slow stroke. "You ate the food, now you pay the price."

I squirmed onto my side, getting my legs between us. If he tried to touch me, I was going to kick his fucking hand to pieces.

He grabbed something from the nightstand and tossed it onto the foot of the bed.

I glared, tensing as he stalked forward. He was next to me in a flash, and I kicked out. My heel slammed into his thigh hard enough to send aftershocks up my leg, but he just grunted. He caught one ankle, twisting violently, and flipped me onto my stomach again.

I pushed upright on my elbows, trying to knock him away, but he used the movement against me.

Wrenching me backward, he took my elbows out from under me. When I fell flat, he crowded in and yanked my hips up, pinning my knees and calves in place with his weight.

I lurched and tried to shove him off. He simply held me in that position until I gave up fighting.

"Relax," he said into my ear. I threw my head back, aiming for his face. He was already gone and retaliated by shoving my neck down.

Something clicked, and I strained my head around, ignoring the pain in my neck, so I could see.

Cactus held a bottle, and as I watched, he squirted some clear goop onto his fingers.

"Lube," he told me cheerfully as he stuck his fingers between my buttcheeks, rubbing and bumping and slicking up my hole.

I swore, trying to throw him off, but it didn't do any good. Just like last time, a long finger petted my asshole in little circles before it pressed inside me.

It burned, and I went still, shoving my face into the pillow and holding my breath.

His finger swirled, pulling against the muscle inside me and stretching my hole before sliding in deeper. I gave up on holding my breath and started hyperventilating.

"Relax, Cal," Cactus said again. "I'm not going to hurt you."

His finger slid out, and he pried my cheeks apart, thumbing at my hole with teasing taps. "Jesus, you're tight."

One hand trailed down, cupping my sack. I jerked, and the fingers withdrew.

The finger at my entrance thrust back in, driving cold goo in with it. I hissed, and he wriggled it around, then holy fuck, his fingertip brushed something inside me that sent a heady pulse of liquid heat into my groin.

I went rigid, and a low chuckle sounded over my shoulder as he arrowed after that spot again. And again. And again.

One finger became two, and when the tight burn had faded some, he began a steady rhythm--sliding and curling his fingers to stoke a slow fire in my guts.

I shivered and moaned, bewildered by the growing pleasure. Even my balls ached. Fuck. How had I never felt like this before?

I'd felt zings, here and there when he'd fucked me last time. But it had been a quick affair, him bending me over the kitchen table and railing me hard from behind until he'd spurted in my ass.

I wouldn't have come at all from it, except that he'd draped over my back after--panting and sweating--and jerked me off.

That's what I'd been expecting. Not this...this torture.

His fingers pulled out, and I couldn't stop a whine. It had started to feel really good right behind the base of my dick, and now the feeling was just missing, leaving an unsatisfactory half-built pool of heat in its wake.

"Say please, Cal."

I shuddered. As if. I wouldn't fucking say please.

His finger tapped and rubbed at my furled entrance, playing around. He cupped and tugged my balls a few times, making me twitch.

"No?" he asked mockingly. "Okay. Well, this could have gone differently. So that's on you."

The bed creaked as his weight shifted backward on my legs while he reached for something. When he leaned back in, he shoved a towel under me and spread my cheeks.

Something cold and smooth speared into my hole, stretching it wide. It settled inside me, hard and foreign for all of five seconds before it hummed to life.

I shouted and writhed as endless vibration plundered that perfect spot inside me.

My hole twitched around the object again and again, and my frantic movements jiggled it out of place, allowing me to catch my breath momentarily as I went still.

"You like that toy, huh? Thought you might. Last time, I could see your pretty little cock jump every time I pegged your prostate."

Smug bastard.

Cactus angled over me, catching the back of my neck in a hard grip and forcing my face tight into the pillow as he wiggled the toy until it hit that spot inside me again.

And then he fucking held it there.

I shouted, unable to stop my hips from rutting into the air.

Heat pulsed and built no matter what I did. If I wriggled and shook, he adjusted, keeping the toy right fucking on me. It buzzed and buzzed, taking my sanity with it in some endless climb.

I shoved back against Cactus, almost certain that if I didn't get off right this very second I might actually die.

I tried to scoot and drop my hips so I could grind my dick against the mattress, but Cactus either yanked my hips up or kneed the back of my thighs to keep me upright.

He rubbed a thumb around my hole and then slid it lower, somewhere between the toy and my balls.

The new pressure made sparks fly behind my eyelids, and pure bliss detonated inside me. I let out a cry as waves of pleasure blew through my dick, up my spine, and out the top of my skull.

The toy kept going, thrumming against the spot relentlessly, keeping my whole body shuddering. My brain melted, leaving me floating and breathless as the explosive waves ebbed into warm little pulses.

I was barely aware when Cactus stroked fingers up and down my back. The toy didn't let up, dragging the pleasure on and on even as it turned sharp. I couldn't stop shaking.

"Out," I gasped, barely able to say it. "Out. Take it out!"

The pleasure edged into pain, into too much sensation, and Cactus said something I couldn't hear.

He rocked the toy in and out, giving me a tiny reprieve with each thrust.

Sometimes he swirled it with only the tip inside my hole. It created a delicious ache, but when he jabbed it back into the hotspot, the sensation was again too much. I jolted, and he pulled the toy back out.

I went limp, only to yelp when he shoved it back in.

In. Out. It became a steady pattern as he fucked me rapidly with the still-buzzing toy. I screeched and fought him with rubbery muscles, but he had the leverage.

"Look how hard you are," he gloated, fingers brushing my dick. I spasmed, only then aware that I hadn't come. Not really. My dick was straining and aching still. What the fuck?

Cactus laughed and went back to fucking me with the toy.

The pleasure and pain raced neck and neck in another slow climb to the top of some invisible wave.

I trembled and moaned and tried to get some kind of stimulation of my dick, but Cactus was too strong. He tutted sternly, hard fingers digging in and keeping my hips away from any kind of grindable surface.

My cock twitched, throbbing and dripping.

He kept tagging the spot inside me with horrifying accuracy, leaving me breathless and sobbing.

"Out. Please. Please," I begged him.

"One more," he said curtly. "You can take it."

My hands scrabbled uselessly against the cuffs. "I can't."

He laughed, scraping his teeth over the corner of my jaw as he pressed into my back. "You will," he growled into my ear.

Leaning back, Cactus slapped one buttcheek. I lurched at the sudden pain, and he used the distraction to shove the toy back in. He held it directly over the hotspot, and then his other hand gripped my dick and stroked.

I wailed as I came undone and launched into a second whole-body explosion, shooting cum violently into the towel he'd thrown under me. Fire lit up my nerves, painful and perfect and way too much. It fizzled somewhere inside my brain and left me floating even as my body quivered and shook of its own accord.

Cactus didn't torture me too long, pulling the toy out and tossing it aside. The towel under my stomach and hips was tugged away, too. I went boneless, face wet with tears as I panted into the pillow.

Strong hands flipped me over, cuffs rattling at the turn.

"Look at you," Cactus drawled, grabbing my balls in a gentle fist. "You made such a mess. Obviously, you need to get off more."

He rolled my nuts around gently, massaging one then the other. It didn't necessarily feel good, just added more stimulation to my overwrought nerves.

"The next time you come, it's going to be me and the toy sharing that tight ass of yours, boy. So don't be thinking this night is over."

The mattress rocked as he shuffled off it. "Don't go anywhere."

Asshole.

I might have zoned out because I startled when he clambered back onto the bed and settled between my legs, some type of cloth in his hands. Before I could do anything, he had one long strip wrapped around my ankle. He dragged my foot up next to my head.

Adrenaline burnt through the haze of feel-good. I let out a shout, bucking and trying to kick him with my free leg. It didn't do much, other than piss him off. He was still able to tie my ankle to the frame of the bed.

I finally got in a good jab, smashing my other foot into his groin.

He swore and backed off, clutching his balls protectively. His face turned ugly, and he lunged forward, capturing my free leg and securing it to the metal frame. "You'll regret that," he warned me, moving off the bed again.

"This wasn't the deal, you lying bastard," I hollered at his retreating back. It came out a little huffed because I was bent nearly in half.

The position wasn't comfortable, and sweat cooled on my skin, leaving me shivering.

Cactus reappeared with some kind of oval flat thing in his hands.

"This was used to play a game," he said, probably correctly deducing I had no idea what it was. "Ping-pong. Stupid name. But a nice paddle nonetheless. I was willing to forgive the fork incident, but that kick nearly took my balls off. So now you get a punishment."

He brought the paddle down on my exposed ass with a sharp crack, spreading a vicious sting across my buttcheek. Another swat, this time on the other side.

"I made you a roast tonight. And you just came twice. But you try and fucking kick me in the balls? This'll teach you, you ungrateful little shit."

He rained blows down left and right. I could only squirm, fighting my restraints uselessly and biting my tongue to keep from crying out. The sting leached into an endless burn, getting worse the longer he went on.

It hurt like hell, and eventually, I couldn't take it anymore.

I let out a sob. "Stop. Please stop! I'm sorry!"

He dropped the paddle and ran a hand over one cheek and then the other, smoothing and squeezing the burning skin. "There you go. That's all I wanted to hear, Cal. You did good."

A fucking apology? I was going to kill him.

Cactus settled over me, getting right in my face. "Now. I made you feel good. Twice, even! You weren't very nice about it, so I think I've changed my mind. You're going to come. Two times to make up for the last two. You're pretty tuckered out, so it might take a while, but you aren't leaving until you do."

Oh God.

He pulled the toy back around, squirting a little lube on it again.

"No!" I bucked and twisted, but he'd restrained me well enough that I couldn't do much as the toy slid in.

What came next was a Slow. Fucking. Build.

I writhed and squirmed to no avail. Exquisite heat built in my groin, and my dick throbbed with the relentless need to come, leaking against my stomach.

I'd fly off the edge if only he'd stroke me again. But he didn't. Instead, he pinched my nipples, nipped at my inner thighs, and stroked my burning ass. And fuck if that didn't feel kind of good, too.