A Miserable Pile of Secrets Ch. 15

Author's Note: Warning! Bondage, toys, non-consent, and exhibitionism.

***

Arthur's struggling had his restraints stretching and clanging. "You put him behind the mirror in that red and white room!"

Vince was getting some latex gloves, his face quite peaceful, as if he was about to cook an easy but delicious meal. "Yeah, but you weren't being recorded, and I'm not recording you now." A glove was stretched over his hand and then snapped into place. "Don't worry. This is a totally private thing."

"Private my ass!" Arthur took a breath through his nose and switched to his sweeter voice. "Come on. Let's go do something else. I don't want this."

His eyebrows rising for a moment as he very clearly pretended to care, Vince made a light hum between his lips. Then he blinked and smiled down at Arthur. "Nope." He touched Arthur's cheek with his gloveless hand. "My Artie usually gets what he wants, but I have to get what I want too." His hand slid away as he walked down the exam table's length, holding the bottle of lubrication. "And I want to emphasize my point to this amateur stalker." He faced one of Arthur's bent knees, and he kissed it.

Vince's eyes held new shadows, a cruel darkness, as most of his teeth were shown in a fiendish grin.

He said, "There's always a bigger fish."

"God damn it, Vince!! You're sick!" It was the nicest thing Arthur could think of to say, a hopeless attempt at keeping Vince at bay. "You're sick in the head and you need help! Don't do this!"

Clearly, that didn't matter to Vince, because his gloveless hand went between Arthur's thighs and right on his bare dick.

Bashfulness, humiliation, a mild ache in the heart, these were the things that were bundled and coated with pleasure. Arthur hated it. His eyes tightly closed. His thighs and buttocks tingled. He tried to beg again. "Please don't do this. Please stop." He was beginning to sound like a child.

Vince might as well have been deaf then. He did remove his bare hand, but only to put a line of lubrication up Arthur's dick and then put the gloved hand there. The repeating motion returned, and Vince gave him his own little words. "You're such a handsome guy. Look how big you're getting! Does it feel good?"

Arthur imagined that if he was looking at Jake, he'd see his eyes shooting invisible lasers of hatred. Sadly, Arthur didn't know what to do about it. What could be done? Vince couldn't be convinced to drop this game, it seemed.

A more rushed pace. A squishy, loud noise. A noise Arthur only wanted to be hidden, no audience except for his husband. But his husband was betraying him, or that's how Arthur viewed it. His husband was taking something precious, almost sacred, and putting it before another's eyes.

The muscles in his limbs felt confined. The blood vessels in his inflamed cock felt free and full. Vince's fiery words only grew more and more excited. "Damn, Honey! Ohhhhh fuck!" He pretty much growled. "You're so hard!"

Shut up! Shut up and stop! That's what Arthur wanted to scream out, but it wouldn't work.

He thought he might cum soon, but Vince surprised him by actually stopping. Yet Arthur knew this wasn't over. He definitely didn't want to open his eyes.

Vince was walking back to the cart. Arthur could hear his steps in the carpet and smell his cologne floating around. Arthur turned his head in the proper direction and let one eye open so he could see what Vince was doing. His husband opened up a case, and he pulled out a damn butt plug.

Arthur crossed his toes and he shut his eye as he tried to think of random things, like how rolling printing machines color images into wallpapers.

More heavy footsteps. Vince was fucking humming!

Arthur wondered how glass marbles with swirling colors in the center were made.

"I had you cleaned out while you were drugged, Artie. Don't worry."

What a fucking piece of shit husband!!

Arthur whined in his throat and tried to think about the history of bento style lunchboxes.

More air and lube was squeezed out of its bottle.

So ... 1970s bento had some really fucking kawaii designs ...? Eh? That was kind of interesting, right?

One of Vince's gloved fingers, covered in lube, sunk into Arthur's asshole, pressing up to the prostate.

Several deep breaths, and Arthur was trying to figure out if he should buy a bento style lunchbox and try making a pretty little lunch for it, all in the name of harmless fun.

But he couldn't keep his breaths deep for very long. They became harsh, short, and Arthur almost tried to rock his hips as his prostate was massaged. Vince's voice broke through his banal thoughts. "Hm? Don't you like it, Honey? I feels good, right? I know it does. I'd never do anything between your legs that wouldn't feel good. That's just not what you're here for." He started spreading Arthur's asshole with his fingers. It felt ... pretty much what Vince had described, good, but Arthur would be damned if he admitted it. "You're here for fun."

Vince seemed to brace Arthur's nervous ass with his fingers as something firm but smooth, likely the butt plug, was put there. "So, let's keep having our fun," Vince said very heavily.

It was slowly, gently put in, a tiny bit at a time. Arthur tried to keep silent. He thought if he said any word, he'd somehow validate Vince. That logic wasn't the best, but it was what he had at the time.

It wasn't a very large plug, really, and Arthur's body accepted it well ... except for his heart.

"Oh, Honey! It went in like it belonged there!" There was a little pinch on Arthur's buttock. "Hey there, Bitch. Did you see it? He has a pretty little asshole, doesn't he?" Vince actually giggled.

Arthur almost wished he could put glue in his eyes and ears.

He heard a belt being unbuckled and slid out of fabric loops, then clothing was ruffled and tossed onto the floor.

Arthur shook his head back and forth, but he knew there was no use.

Again, lubricant being pushed out of its container, but Vince didn't put it on Arthur. He didn't feel it.

But he did hear it, along with Vince laughing at Jake's thick, gagged sounds. "Haha! I like condoms, but uh ... hm! I think I'll just forget about that today. We're both clean. It's fine."

Woosh!!

Weight.

There was weight, and pressure, and the exam table creaked and even bounced a little. Arthur's top half was fine, but he knew what that heat was on his lower half. Still, he was surprised, and he opened his eyes to stupidly blink at Vince crouched over him, winking. No pants, no underwear, Vince was ready to go. Arthur could hardly believe the exam table could support his weight, let alone his and Arthur's combined.

His belly lurching, his nostrils broadening, Arthur looked to his left and tried to focus on the door. It looked like all the other sliding doors in the house, modern and cool.

It was done.

Arthur didn't want it done. It seared him, almost marked him, made him feel like a dildo instead of a man. He knew his nails were making lines in the cushions.

"Hnnnnnnn ... your cock feels so nice, Artie!" Vince gripped the edge of the table while Arthur tried to pretend he didn't smell good, and there were always more things to think about, like 1990s cartoons. Batman: The Animated Series was pretty nice. Good action, good characters, and that's where Harley Quinn came from!

Oh ... god.

Why did this have to feel good? Why couldn't he just ignore it? Why couldn't he turn cold and uncaring? His testicles were drawing in. His poor asshole was pulsing and loving the tightness in it. His prostate was flashing codes of light behind Arthur's eyelids and buzzing signals in his bloodstream. The table was rocking a little. The stirrups were clanging.

Vince was mocking Jake. "This feels sooooooooo nice! Hey Bitch, haven't you ever done this before? Hm? What's wrong? You look like I just pissed in your cornflakes. All I'm doing is fucking the hell out of someone you didn't love enough to stop beating. What's your problem? Can't stand seeing him enjoying a nice fuck?"

Arthur would've loved to scream a response to Vince. It didn't matter how much he hated Jake. He was hating Vince pretty hard too, at least right then.

Don't cum.

Don't cum!

He didn't want to let Vince have that satisfaction.

But right now, even in this house, Arthur wasn't getting what he wanted.

Accidentally biting some of his cheek out, Arthur made a noise like a dying rabbit and shot up into Vince's asshole.

***

When the ordeal was over, most of the mess was wiped up with baby wipes, but a hot shower would be needed soon. Vince unstrapped Arthur's body and put him on his weak feet. Then he tied a bath robe over him, kissed his cheek, and sent him to the hallway. Two beefy guards were there, and they took Arthur's arms. Arthur hardly made his steps as he was led through all sorts of hallways, doors, and staircases, and finally to his bedroom.

Arthur collapsed, almost fainted, falling to his knees and then over, his face planting on the carpet. There was a light meow, and Benny ran up to him. He nuzzled Arthur's hair and purred, but Arthur couldn't find the energy to do anything about it.

He stayed on the floor for perhaps fifteen minutes. Benny eventually gave up and went off to play with one of his toys.

He had to get up eventually. Some ... icky stuff was still in his ass. So, Arthur pushed himself up and went to the bathroom. He was a twitching thing, mostly on autopilot, as he washed himself up. His mind was so much more sore than his ass could ever be. When it was time to dry himself off, he barely made any movements with the towel. Parts of him were still dripping when he walked over to his bed and fell on it.

Huh? His cell phone and keys weren't far from his face. Had they been on the bed all this time? Arthur sat up and took his phone. According to the clock, it was still in the morning.

His stomach grumbled, but he just sat there, playing with his phone, for a few more minutes before he thought to get dressed and make breakfast.

French Toast Crunch. That's a food item.

No milk was poured. Arthur didn't even get a bowl. He roughly tore the box open and nearly destroyed the bag inside. Then, sitting on the floor in front of the pantry, Arthur shoved dry cereal into his mouth like a heathen with no social skills. A few tiny, toast-shaped pieces bounced onto the reflective floor with each scoop. Half the box was empty when he assumed he should stop. He left the cereal on the floor and got up. His shoe crunched down on the stray bits as he put his head under the sink's faucet and ran the water. A few sips later, he was going back to his room.

And he stayed on his bed.

After an hour or so, he was able to sleep.

When he woke up, he stared at all the notes he'd left behind, thinking he could lose time at any moment, especially the sticky notes. One of them read, "Had an argument with Vince over shopping. Made up. It's fine."

It's not fine. Nothing was fine.

***

Arthur was eventually told the reason why there had been a blackout. One of the housekeepers turned out to be a combination of a spy and an assassin. Vince had once said quite casually, "Spies are like secret detectives that do illegal stuff, but most of them don't have very exciting lives. That doesn't mean I don't see my share, though." Anyway, this particular spy had managed to turn off the power, and then he tried to kill Vince.

Obviously, that didn't turn out well for him.

Vince had laughed and said he'd fried hunks of the spy's flesh up and served it to Jake for dinner.

And Arthur was scared to death.

Still, he was an obedient little boy. Anything Vince wanted, he tried to take care of. Want a workout buddy? Got you. Want to play some poker? Okay. Want someone to cook you a nice meal? Can do. Blowjob? Not a problem. All he had to do was turn off his thoughts for a little bit and it would be easy.

But he was scared. Not even the beautiful spring season could fight the fear away.

One morning, though, he got an idea.

He had a headache, and he was searching a medicine cabinet in his bathroom when the idea came to him.

Benadryl.

If he could mix it with alcohol ...

Then maybe he could run away from Vince.

He chose a certain afternoon to carry the plan out. Vince was watching him play a game, drinking something very alcoholic from a glass. He had an opened bottle on a tray near him, along with a bowl of ice. After taking a one sip from a full glass, he suddenly stood up and put his hand on his belly. "Be right back, need to make a deposit."

Right to the bathroom, Vince didn't look back.

He might be there for a while.

This was the opportunity Arthur had been waiting for!

Arthur got up from his seat and pretended to stretch his limbs, looking back at the bathroom door.

It was closed. Tightly.

With quiet toes and a mad heart, he went over to Vince's glass, and he put his fingers in his pants' pockets.

Several pink pills. He dropped them into the liquid and went back to his seat. He needed Vince to be unconscious. It was the best way he could think of to get out of the house and run away to some remote location. He already had a single bag of classic running away gear tucked in one of his wardrobes, hidden behind boxes of designer shoes.

Arthur was playing around on an RPG Maker game when Vince came back. He didn't look back at Vince. He wanted to, though.

He heard the ice tinkling in the glass.

And then cold, bitter smelling alcohol was on the top of Arthur's head, splashing and falling down to his shoulders and back.

Arthur's fingers hovered over his keyboard.

Silently, a tablet was slid into his view. Vince was holding it. There was some kind of app there. Vince's thumb tapped a ... well a thingy. And Arthur saw a silent recording from some mysterious spot above. He watched himself get up from his PC and go to Vince's drink. Then he watched himself put the pills into the drink.

Arthur was too terrified to do anything except shake. He couldn't even lower his hands.

Vince moved the tablet out of sight.

Shrill laughter. It made Arthur flinch and hug himself, still shivering from the cold alcohol. If Benny wasn't out exploring at that time, he'd probably hide in his bed.

"Oh, oh fuck!! Haha!! Did you think you could just put benadryl in my drink?! Did you really think that?!"

How the shit did he know it was benadryl?!

"Well, I guess I'll just have to teach you how to behave."

Expecting violence, Arthur jumped out of his seat and tried to run, but Vince caught one of his arms. Arthur tried to punch him. He actually tried to punch big, bad Vince!! But he missed and his arm was painfully bent behind his back, making him gasp. He tried to do something with his free arm, but that one was also seized. He tried to kick, but Vince threw him onto his bed like he was nothing.

The world hadn't finished bouncing when thick footsteps pounded over to him and his body was pinned to the mattress by a large hand, right on his back, soaking alcohol into the sheets. Vince's voice was so sickeningly amused. "I'm not having this, Artie. You're my husband. That means you have to be a good boy. So, I'm going to make you into a good boy."

Blink.

***

A new ceiling, similar to what Arthur had seen just before the ... incident ... with Jake and the exam table. And in fact, Arthur figured out he was once again naked and on an exam table and stirrups. Probably not the same exact ones, but comparable enough.

"Don't worry, Honey. This time, you only lost an hour."

Vince.

Arthur didn't even try to struggle. His voice was maybe half a whisper. "What are you going to do?"

From the left, Vince's grinning face moved into sight as if some quiet, smooth machine was in charge of his body. "Lesson one, Arthur." He bent over. His lips went to Arthur's left nipple. His tongue drew tiny circles on the aureola, making the nipple bloom. Arthur's throat bulged as he tried to swallow down his lust. Vince went on to suck on the nipple, sometimes tapping it with his tongue.

As Vince kept his attentions on Arthur's nipple, he slid his left hand down Arthur's belly and to his dick. His nails only lightly ran down the jerking shaft, then down to carefully and affectionately scratch the balls. Arthur's toes clenched down. He wasn't wearing socks this time. He could feel the metal against his feet.

Vince's head moved up and he smirked down at Arthur, his tied back hair looking particularly shiny, his eyes narrowed in a tenacious way. "Okay ... there aren't multiple lessons, so it's just ... this lesson." His palm and fingers cupped Arthur testicles.

His eyelids pulling back, his crooked nose flexing, Arthur hoped he wasn't about to have his balls ripped off.

Vince stepped over to where his hand was. Then, without a word about it, he slurped Arthur's dick into his mouth.

There wasn't anyone else to watch, or that's what Arthur thought, but he was still afraid. Vince was angry at him, a rare but also frightening thing. He sucked Arthur into a throbbing, thick state while humming like he was eating something delicious. He only stopped to playfully say, "Don't act like this doesn't feel good, Honey." Then he went back at it like crazy, all while holding his testicles.

Yes ... Arthur didn't want to say that word, but his body was singing it. Oh god, that mouth! That sweet, hot mouth knew just how to move on his dick! Arthur's fingers were like claws. His chest heaved. He closed his eyes, hoping that the lack of sight would make it more difficult to cum.

Oh ... no ... Vince was squeezing his balls, not hard, just enough to make his hips bounce. Arthur whined through his teeth. He was almost there, almost ... ready ... yes!!

But it stopped. Completely. Vince wasn't even touching him anymore. Arthur opened his eyes.

Vince was going towards his upper body.

He gripped Arthur's hair and kissed him, putting Arthur's own musk in his mouth. Then he murmured over Arthur's lips, "Did you think I'd let you off easy?" Another bit of laughter, a short bit. He licked up Arthur's cheek, leaving behind a wet trail. "Oh no, Honey. No way."

And it truly began.

Prostate massagers. Dildoes. Even a fleshlight. Plenty of lube too.

Vince treated him like the he was highly fascinating. He said things like, "Oh, you're so hot, Artie. Hmmmmmmm, I love how you look when you're desperate. Come on, scream loud for me."

And on ... and on ... and it just fucking went on!

And Vince just wouldn't let him cum.

How much time went on? Arthur couldn't tell, but it felt like hours.

His poor balls were heavy. His lower belly hurt. He actually sobbed.

And begged.

And begged!

Until his throat was nothing but sand and his voice had disappeared. Until sweat coated every bit of skin he owned. Until he smelled disgusting. Until he was weaker than a newborn puppy.

"Hm? Are you worn out? Well, good." Vince chose that time to untie him and literally hauled him over his shoulder like a bag of sand. It only made Arthur's belly hurt even more, and his erection felt squished. Vince took him out of the room, down a hallway, and into a tiny room. A really tiny room. It was basically an American-sized prison cell except more comfortable. White carpeted floors, pale blue wallpaper, a toilet and sink out in the open, a thin bed, a shelf on a wall with some books, pretty much the ultimate tiny room. There was a slot in the door for sending meals through, but that was it. No windows. Nothing showing the outside world to the inhabitant.

When Arthur was thrown onto the small bed, he tried to get up, but he was so tired that he stumbled. Vince was able to leave the room and lock the door without any resistance.