Three, Two, One (321)

“Shit! What are you doing?” JD is standing now, holding me steady as my weak legs struggle to hold myself up.

I slap him away. “Don’t, please!” I cover my face with my hands to shield myself, but the blows never come.

“Shhh,” he says, wrapping one arm around my waist as the other one pries my hands away from their defense position. “I’m not gonna hit you. And Ark’s not going to do anything if you don’t want him. If you say no, I can guarantee you, he’ll never ask again.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t even know what to think about what’s happening to me. I’m standing naked in a tub with a complete stranger who I just sucked off. I let them both get me off outside in the rain and film the entire thing. My eyes dart to the camera on the bathroom vanity. It’s still recording, I think.

And I’m not even coherent enough to come to grips with what has happened to me over the past fifteen months. The marks on my back aren’t the only things that linger. So does the fear. The pain. The consequences of my actions. But if these two guys are my only options for salvation… I’ll take what I can get.

All these things are pressing in on me like walls, closing in. Trying to crush me.

“Do you want to get out of the tub and put some clothes on?”

“I don’t have any clothes,” I whimper into my hands. He’s still trying to pry them down, but I’m not giving in. I don’t want to see his face. I don’t want to see the confusion, or pity, or whatever it is he’s feeling right now.

And most of all, I don’t want him to see my feelings either.

I don’t want anyone to see my feelings ever again.

He steps over the rim of the tub, still holding onto one of my hands, and gets out. He gives me a tug. “Come on. I have something for you to wear. And then you can sleep for a while. Or eat. Or call someone if you want.”

I let that one hand fall away from my face, but the other stays in place. I know what I must look like. The less he sees of me, the better.

When I step out he grabs a soft towel and wraps it around me. I tuck one end into the wrap to hold it in place, and then he drapes a second towel over my shoulders. “That’ll keep you warm until I get you something to wear.”

He takes a third towel from the linen cupboard and dries himself off quickly, then wraps it around his waist. I’m looking at his feet though, so I don’t really catch sight of his body. I know it’s athletic and strong. I felt the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen when he was holding me. And I know his cock is long and thick, because he was trying to stick it down my throat. But I haven’t gotten a proper look at him yet.

That changes as we leave the bedroom, walk down the hallway, and enter the living room. He walks in front of me and I lift my gaze a little so I can see his back. He’s got a tattoo covering the entire span. From shoulder blade to shoulder blade, all the way down his back are two intertwined dragons. It’s shaded like a painting in black and red and yellow. Flames shoot out of the dragons’ open mouths. There’s a banner across the bottom with Latin words across it in some fancy script.

It gives me a shiver.

“My bedroom’s across the loft. That was Ark’s room. He’s got the girly bathroom.” JD looks over his shoulder at me and smiles so big it makes his eyes sparkle. “So if you need another soak, just use his bathroom. He won’t care.”

Ark won’t? I’m not so sure about that.

“But if you just need a shower, then my bathroom’s good enough.” JD stops in front of his door. None of the walls in here actually go up to the ceiling because it’s loft-style. But there are doors, and that’s a plus.

The last place I was held had no doors.

He opens it and waves me forward into the space. It’s large and bright and that’s another thing that differs from where I came from. It was cramped and dark.

“Here,” he says, letting go of my hand and walking over to a dresser. He pulls one open and fishes around until he comes up with some boxer-briefs with hearts on them. I can’t help myself. I bust out a giggle as he hands them over. He gives me a stern look that I interpret as fake. “Don’t judge, man. Some girl gave them to me last V-Day. I’ve never actually worn them.”

“So you disappointed her?” I ask, allowing myself to look up long enough to catch his smile and accept what he’s offering.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I guess I did.” And then his laugh dies. “I usually do.”

I stare at him for a few moments, our eyes locked. “Thank you,” I say after he starts rummaging through his drawers again. He pulls out a t-shirt that will be monumentally too big for me and hands it over. I take it and repeat my sentiment. “Thank you.”

And then I take in a deep breath as his gaze drops down, taking in my body wrapped up in the towel, then lifts back up to find my face. He reaches out and untucks the end of my towel, and it drops to the floor with a soft whoosh. Then he takes the towel around my shoulders and dries me off. First my arms. Then my breasts and belly. Then he bends down so his face is even with my sex. His eyes linger on the crease between my legs, and then he drags the towel down my legs. He leaves the towel on the floor, standing again, and his hand slides up my thigh. He cups my pussy, a teasing finger slipping in and out for a moment, and then he kisses me on the mouth.

“You’re not going to tell me today. I can see that. But I hope one day you will. Because no one deserves to be beaten like that if they say no.”