Chapter Text
It had started when a girlfriend giggled and pinned his wrists to the bed. His reaction was obvious in how his cock had jumped—she had noticed.
“You want to be held down?” she laughed.
He barely got a second to give a sheepish, embarrassed justification before she had wrapped his tie around his wrists.
That’s how it started.
She broke up with him when his requests needed something more than the soft, loose fabric of a tie.
When his requests became laced with masochism.
So he took to porn. It was fine, he told himself, these weren’t things he really wanted, they were fantasies he could indulge in online. It wasn’t the leather clad men, it wasn’t the latex suits, it wasn’t the perfectly choreographed pornography that worked for him. No, it was the indie porn he found deep on blogs, it was the photographs of people without the model bodies being restrained in positions he wanted to be in, it was the fantasies of people without morals, preying on victims; this was his porn.
But the more he indulged, the more often he jerked off over the erotic—the lewd and threatening text paired with grainy images; the more often he came to images of bondage not as a kink, but as a lifestyle—the more he needed the reality.
And so, every night, Andrew would leave his bare apartment to walk the streets of his city instead. Every night, he’d choose alleys he knew were dangerous, he’d walk alone, he’d walk with headphones in—he took every safety precaution and would do the exact opposite. And every night, he hoped for a man larger than him to wrap strong arms around him, to cover his mouth and muffle his cries as he was dragged away. He’d think about how he’d be restrained, bound and gagged, thrown into the back of a truck and left disorientated as he’d be transported to a new life. A life where he wouldn’t be allowed to think besides servitude.
And every night, this did not happen. Despite his depraved fantasies being posted online with no efforts made to conceal his identity, his wishes did not come to fruition.
Which was to be expected, he’d remind himself, as kidnapping is a crime and morally wrong, and those engaging in kink do not wish to commit actual crimes and truly hurt people.
Every night, Andrew would go to bed frustrated, disappointed, and getting off to increasingly desperate desires.
***
“How’s she looking, Andy?” a coworker, Jacob, asked him.
Andrew pushed out from under the car, feeling smudges of dirt and oil on his face. “Fine. Pretty much done,” he said.
Jacob stood over him, smirking at Andrew’s disheveled appearance. “Good job,” he said. “Come on, client won’t be back for a beat. Smoke break?”
Warmth hit Andrew at the compliment, as fleeting as it may have been, as meaningless, but he pulled himself up, wiping hands against overalls. Jacob’s hazel eyes flicked over him, before he jerked his head for Andrew to follow outside, away from the shop floor to the designated smoking area under the safety of an oak tree.
“How’s things?” Jacob asked as he sparked up, hand cupped over the cigarette, before the black and green lighter was offered to Andrew.
“Fine,” Andrew said, lighting his own cigarette.
Jacob was regarding him, and Andrew felt on the spot as he flicked at the lighter over and over, failing to keep it lit.
“Do you have any other vocabulary today?” Jacob joked.
Finally, the lighter cooperated, and warmth hit Andrew’s throat with the cigarette. He passed the lighter back, but Jacob waved a hand. “Keep it. I’ve got plenty.”
“Things are going alright. I’ve got nothing else to say,” Andrew then said, feeling the urge to pull a hand through his dark hair, but held back with how dirty his hands were. Not that his hair was much better.
“Last I heard you were in the break room with Nate, bitching about some girl that ghosted you. Any better luck?” Jacob said, watching Andrew from the corner of his eye as he smoked.
Andrew snorted a light laugh, “I sort of gave up after her. Figured I’d… I don’t know, work on myself, or whatever bullshit you’re supposed to do.”
Jacob snickered. “Bullshit is right. Dating fucking sucks. I gave up, too.”
“You’re single?”
“This surprises you?” Jacob asked, wearing a slight sly grin.
Andrew dropped his gaze to the floor, focusing on the cigarette. “You never mentioned dating,” he said after exhaling the smoke. “Guess I know why now. Figured you were in a relationship, though.”
Jacob clapped him on the back, high up, fingers digging in. “Smoke break’s over,” he said, dropping his own stick to the floor to crush it under his shoe, Andrew’s eyes fixed on the motion. “Finish up that Audi and get it ready for the prissy owner, will you?”
“Yep,” Andrew said, unable to lift his gaze until after Jacob’s fingers and body heat left him.
He watched as Jacob walked back into the shop floor, hands ruffling up brunet hair, fabric of the coveralls stretched tight over the forearms as he did so.
Andrew’s own cigarette joined the crushed stub on the floor, and he followed inside.
Another day in, another day out, as the sun crept low in the sky, night crawling in, and the last of their clients collected a Toyota. Jacob was finishing up the paperwork for the two of them, he and Andrew being the last ones standing so to speak, to close up shop.
“How long, do you reckon?” Andrew asked as he left the garage for the reception, Jacob sat at the receptionist’s desk, scrawling away with smudged glasses on. Andrew always thought those glasses made the man look somewhat softer, but perhaps that was simply due to the fact he rarely wore them.
“Takes as long as it takes,” Jacob grunted. “Somewhere to be?”
“Nah, just tired.”
“Aw, you’re tired. Cute.”
A heat quickly flared in Andrew, and he turned his back on Jacob, hiding behind retrieving a cup of water from the dispenser, ice rattling into the glass first.
“Is the garage clean?” Jacob then asked in a gruff tone.
Andrew nodded, facing him again, but Jacob didn’t look up. “Yeah,” he said.
“So if I check it, I won’t need to come back in here telling you to do it again?” he glanced up then.
“It’s clean, bro. You watched me clean it.”
Jacob’s eyes flicked to the window of the reception, out to the floor. “Then sit, and wait. I’ll be five.”
Andrew did exactly that.
The only sound was the scrawling of pen on paper, a fan oscillating, blades whirring at the highest speed to break the humidity of the reception, and ice cracking in Andrew’s paper cup.
He waited.
Jacob kept clicking his tongue, muttering under his breath here and there, and Andrew’s eyes flicked to him each time, trying to keep his attention fixed to his phone, or to the water, but Jacob’s presence seemed to demand attention on him, without doing anything.
He waited.
The minute hand of a clock ticked away. Five minutes become ten.
He wanted to ask if Jacob was almost done. Instead, he waited. And then ten minutes become fifteen.
“Sorted,” Jacob finally said, causing Andrew to start at the sudden volume, and Jacob to chuckle at the action. “Sorry that took so long, good thing you’re a patient guy.”
“Like I said, not much going on tonight,” Andrew stood, making for the door.
“You know what you should do,” Jacob started as they walked to their cars parked next to one another. “Just get on an app. You don’t have to do anything serious, just meet someone for some drinks and get laid. No point being miserable at home all alone.”
“Go through the whole song and dance every time I want to get laid? Sounds like a lot of work for disappointment.”
“Disappointment?” Jacob laughed. “You just need your dick wet, don’t you? What are you wanting, hours of foreplay?”
“What? Something wrong with that?” Andrew played into the joke. “Where’s the fun in a few pumps and done?”
“Is that how long you last? Weak.”
Andrew waved him off. “Fuck off, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jacob’s keys rattled as he tossed them between hands. “See you tomorrow. Go get laid! End all our suffering!” he called out as he got into his car.
As Andrew sat in his car, lining up a playlist for the short drive back into the inner city, to his apartment, Jacob left first, and Andrew’s mind felt as though it was with him, in Jacob’s car, feeling near ashamed of how easily he did whatever Jacob asked.
The guy was the same level as him at work, for fuck’s sake.
Tall brick buildings lined the street of Andrew’s apartment. Little light from street lamps fell here, giving it a perfectly sketchy feeling where most avoided walking in the dark. Odd, skinny trees clung to life along the sidewalk, slender, dry branches bare of most leaves this time of year groaned from a breeze; their departed leaves crumbling under each step Andrew took from where his car parked to the door of his building.
Though his sights were caught by the alley to the side, a narrow walkway between his building and the next, devoid of light beyond an emergency exit lamp above a fire door flanked by dumpsters.
His steps slowed as his imagination ran wild.
What if he took the trash out, opened the dumpster to throw it in, back turned, unaware and unthinking—just exhausted—and before he could act, big hands would grab his waist. He thought of how one would quickly move to clasp over his mouth, dirty fingers digging into cheeks to hold back cries, as another yanked his pants down.
Unable to call for help, pinned against a dumpster, the man behind him would growl in his ear, telling him to shut up and take it, or it’d be a hell of a lot worse. He imagined the scent of the man, body odor and cigarettes, black oil stains on the fingers. Andrew felt a heat coil inside of him, sitting low in his body, as he thought of being taken roughly, without any mercy of preparation, to be used against that dumpster, to be told to enjoy it, to be praised for how tight he was as a fat cock violated him over and over.
Before his fantasy could go any further, a cat yowled from a first floor window, and Andrew hurried inside, embarrassed, as though a passerby could read his thoughts stemming from an innocent alley hosting an innocent dumpster.
Grimy, mold dotted walls led the way to Andrew’s apartment as he jogged up the stairs, shaking the fantasy from his mind. It was too early for a nightly walk anyway, he couldn’t get off just yet. He liked to wait before jacking off, wait until he returned home from his strolls, wait until he’d played out new fantasies in his head, based on locations he’d see, or replay old, favorite fantasies.
He’d then race home to pull at his cock until he made a mess over himself, and every time, he would wish that there was someone to tie his hands so he couldn’t touch himself, and scold him for trying to touch what didn’t belong to him anymore.
Online doms had tried to control his touching, his orgasms, but it never worked. It wasn’t enough. He simply didn’t care enough for a stranger online telling him what to do from half way across the world if there were no real consequences to disobedience.
He began to wonder if a dom was what he wanted, or if he simply wanted nothing more than to be owned by somebody sadistically obsessed with him. Lately, the need was becoming overwhelming, and, leaned against kitchen counter with phone in his hands, Hinge profile set up taunting him, he wondered if Jacob was right.
Andrew couldn’t keep this up, he couldn’t keep having his thoughts circle such depraved topics during his every waking moment, sometimes in his sleeping moments too; in the way of nightmarish wet dreams. He needed to get laid. He simply needed to get laid, and all of this would ease away, back to porn he indulged in slightly less frequently.
So he took Jacob’s advice, setting up a profile. The app asked for his sexuality. He hesitated a moment; yes, nearly all his fantasies were of men taking him, of men owning him, of men degrading him and reducing him to nothing more than a plaything, but to arrange something like a date with a man? That wasn’t him, he didn’t want that. He selected straight.
Already feeling overwhelmed with the app throwing pop up after pop up of tutorials and features and advertising its premium accounts, he set his phone down to scour cabinets for food. Though as he stared at the meager pantry of pasta and rice, his appetite left him.
Instead, he spent his evening trying to relax himself, distract himself, with shitty TV and a joint. His fingers shook as he rolled, his phone laying face down on the table next to the grinder, but with every vibration, every notification he received, his gut twisted in a way the weed would not curb.
Andrew couldn’t take it anymore, and he snatched up his phone, dropping a now half smoked joint to the ashtray. The little H at the top of the screen called for him, and he opened the app up. As expected to get him hooked, already twelve had liked him. Despite rarely using dating apps, he knew how to tell what was a real and what was a fake profile. Most he rejected, but a few seemed real and hot, so he matched with them, knowing full well the likelihood of ever meeting them was low. One in particular though, caught his eye. Her name was Hannah, and she’d liked a photo of him, complimenting his blue eyes, calling the shade unique. He scrolled up and down through her profile. A standard looking girl, blonde hair, green eyes, a sweet smile. There were few shots of her body, but from what he could see, she fit his type; slender with tits on the smaller side.
Andrew couldn’t decide; her prompts made her sound plain, she may as well have said she liked talking and long walks on the beach. But Jacob’s words floated in his mind again. He didn’t need to marry the girl, he only needed to fuck her.
So, he matched with Hannah.
ANDREW
haha thanks, your eyes are gorgeous too.
how are you today anyway?
He set his phone down again, not feeling hopeful he’d get a reply, and took to smoking the joint once more; the whole place now reeking of weed despite the open window bringing a chill in. The TV continued playing nonsense, and he had a fleeting thought of how he really needed to reinstate his Prime video account, because Netflix was just not cutting it anymore. And perhaps buy a better TV.
The phone vibrated, and Andrew settled deeper in the couch, unwilling to answer, unwilling to actually arrange a date. He didn’t want a date. He didn’t want to waste time and money buying drinks for a girl, hoping small talk would charm her enough into his shitty bedroom. As he considered his bare bedroom, complete with bare bulb hanging above the bed, he had even less motivation to answer.
Maybe there was a small chance she didn’t expect all of the effort. There were some girls out there that just wanted to get laid, too, there had to be. He’d set his profile to show looking for a short term relationship, a clear as day signal for wanting to fuck and nothing more, and wondered if she had done the same, and if the meaning of that setting was the same in a girl’s brain.
His stomach growled, the weed finally hitting him. Without thinking, he grabbed his phone to check the time; the Chinese takeout down the road would still be open for another two hours, and Hannah had replied.
HANNAH
I’m fine! I’m going to be honest, I’m not really looking for small talk, though! You’re not too far from me, I don’t think. Do you want to grab a drink sometime and get to know each other properly?
Something about how she talked struck Andrew as odd; it was a one in a million chance he’d genuinely found a girl this forward, this willing to make the first move. A nagging part of him warned him against it, these types of things led to scams, so Reddit told him, but at the same time, if she was genuine, when would this same chance present itself a second time? Reddit also said that near enough never happened, let alone happening twice.
ANDREW
yeah, sure! are you free tomorrow night?
He hadn’t expected her to respond so fast, standing, ready to go for his night walk to get a late dinner with his imagination.
HANNAH
I am! 8 sound good? Do you know Emporium?
ANDREW
Perfect :)
Date plans set, and feeling like he’d completed a boring chore, Andrew grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter, and his front door slammed behind him as he hurried back out into the dark, wearing jeans that hugged against him, and thin hoodie that was no match for the cold wind blowing against hot skin. He’d take the long way to the Chinese takeout, as he always did, taking his time through various alleys and dark side streets.