Part 37 (1/2)

Ash nodded, his eyes almost bulging out, his heart racing so fast he could hear it in his ears. The flat part of the blade ran across his underpants making him jolt backwards. The back of his legs knocked into the bed, sending him falling onto the mattress. Chaz leaned over him, running the blade up the inside of Ash's thighs, the sting causing Ash to pant as it got closer to his b.a.l.l.s.

”No, no, no...” he gasped.

The blade stopped a lick away from his b.a.l.l.s, then Chaz lowered his head and kissed them through Ash's underpants. ”All better now,” he said, straightening.

Ash stared up at him, his heart still pounding hard, what had happened telling him he was going to get kissed, f.u.c.ked or whatever else Chaz's perverted mind wanted, and he had no say.

Chaz pointed at the floor with the knife. ”Next time you waste food I'm gonna shove it up your a.r.s.e. So eat everything I give you like a good li'l pet. Now, bark if you agree?”

”No.”

”Bark!”

”Kill me!”

Chaz shook his head. ”You really have b.a.l.l.s, just a matter of whether you want them attached or not.” He pointed the knife at Ash. ”Now, I'm sure you don't give a f.u.c.k if I kill you, but no man wants a knife cutting him below. So, bark!”

”You're sick!”

Chaz smiled. ”b.a.l.l.sy but dumb. You were never that bright, the type to cut off his b.a.l.l.s to spite his c.o.c.k.” He bent down and speared a chip. ”You want me to feed you, pretty baby?”

Ash gritted his teeth to stop from screaming at Chaz, his need to tear the man apart, to see blood-so strong. But instead he remained lying on the bed, the throb in his b.a.l.l.s keeping him from las.h.i.+ng out again, both in words and action.

Chaz c.o.c.ked his head. ”Not gonna bite back?”

Ash shook his head.

”Good boy.” Chaz pointed at the cabinet. ”I made you porridge, so you're gonna eat every last drop, then lick the bowl clean. Understand?”

Ash nodded.

”Now, that wasn't hard, was it?”

Ash shook his head.

”I like you better as a p.u.s.s.y than a c.u.n.t,” Chaz said smiling, then he bent down and scooped up the fish and chips off the floor, piling it onto the plastic plate.

Ash watched as Chaz left, his gaze remaining on the door for a while afterwards. When he was sure Chaz wasn't returning, he pushed up and pulled his underpants forward, giving his b.a.l.l.s and c.o.c.k a look, the pain now only a dull ache. He let go and pushed to his feet, then went to the cabinet. His stomach growled, telling him to eat the porridge and to forget that it could be drugged, that he had no control over his body, whether he was conscious or not. If anything, it would be better if he was drugged, because he didn't want to remember getting f.u.c.ked.

With his tied hands, he picked up a spoonful of porridge, swearing as it spilt, splattering on his s.h.i.+rt and the floor. Trying again, this time slower, he managed to get a spoonful into his mouth, then another one and another, until he'd eaten half of the bowl, the last mouthful having a nasty bitter aftertaste. He spat it out, and wiped his tongue on his arm, trying to get it off. Swearing, he turned around and jumped towards the door, needing to wash away whatever f.u.c.king drug Chaz had used. As he opened the door a wave of dizziness slammed into him, taking his legs out from under him, his mind going blank before he hit the floor.

A noise woke Ash. He opened his eyes, finding himself back on the bed with the duvet wrapped around him. He wriggled out of it and got to his feet, a sense of deja vu infusing his wrung out body, the weariness making him wish he'd eaten more of the porridge so he could sleep longer.

He looked over at the bowl, still on the cabinet, but with a note stuck to the outside, telling him to: Lick it clean or I'll make you lick my b.a.l.l.s.

Before he could think what he was doing, Ash swung out at it, knocking the plastic bowl to the floor, his rage taking over reason and his sanity. When he realised what he'd done, he yelled out at the top of his lungs, frustration as well as anger enveloping him, filling his stomach and sinking to the bottom faster than the porridge.

After calming down, his gaze flicked to the door, expecting Chaz to come barging through with a knife, and punis.h.i.+ng him for making a mess-for not doing what his Lord and Master had told him. Ash spat on the ground, disgusted with Chaz's sick mind games.

When the s.a.d.i.s.t didn't enter, Ash hopped over to the curtains, using his head to nudge them apart. For a moment, he considered putting his head though the gla.s.s, but instead looked out at a small enclosure surrounded by tall pine trees, the sun bathing everything in its bright rays. What Chaz had said about being near Waipoua Forest returned, the place hours away from his home, and somewhere no one would think to look for him.

Pulling back, he looked at the porridge on the floor, some of it still remaining in the bowl. Wondering how long he'd slept, he bobbed down and dipped a finger in, finding the porridge neither hot nor cold. He wiped the finger on the side of the mattress, then stood up, momentarily distracted by the gla.s.s of water. Ignoring his thirst, he turned away from it and hopped towards the door, wanting to p.i.s.s on Chaz, because he was f.u.c.king busting. He nudged the door open, then entered a lounge which appeared to be in the middle of a renovation-or in bad need of one. It reminded him of his Uncle Luka's house, where everything was half-finished, with the walls partially lined, the pink insulation showing like candy floss and a mismatch of carpets thrown on the floor without care.

Chaz got up from the couch. ”Feeling better, Tarzan? Cos that was quite some holler.”

”f.u.c.k up.”

Chaz shook his head. ”You never learn, do ya?”

Ignoring him, Ash glanced at the next doorway, hoping it was the bathroom. He started jumping towards it, tensing as his stepfather followed.

”Do ya needa go to the toilet?” Chaz asked.

”f.u.c.k off,” Ash said, nudging the door open with a shoulder.

”I'll help you,” Chaz said.

”f.u.c.k off!”

Chaz jolted. ”Stop b.l.o.o.d.y attacking me every time I offer help.”

”You only help yourself.”

”s.h.i.+t, you look exactly like Dante when you're being a nasty c.u.n.t. Maybe if you keep it up I'll think I took the wrong brother. Do you know what I'd do to Dante if I had him?”

”Exactly what you're gonna do to me.”

”No, I'd f.u.c.k him in a second and would make it hurt like b.u.g.g.e.ry.” Chaz smirked, like he'd made a funny joke. ”Whereas I'd make sweet love to you.”

”You're a sick f.u.c.k.”

”Well, you should know, cos I heard you got real sick after the last time.”

”You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!” Ash jerked back as Chaz pulled out his knife.

”You weren't gonna attack me, were you?”

Yes. Ash shook his head as his eyes followed the knife like watching a tennis match, although the ball was completely in Chaz's court.

”Remember what I said about you being nice to me.” Chaz moved the knife lower.

Ash nodded.

”You gonna say sorry.”

Ash's lip twitched.