Bird in a Cage     Feedback welcome at JenAsayKwa@aol.com
 
 Disclaimer: You know, it's kind of like borrowing a friend's dolls. You
get to play with them for a while, but then you have to give them back.
 
 
 Bird in a Cage
 by
 JenAsayKwa
 
 
 It always starts the same way. He brings me into his office and handcuffs
my left wrist to the chair. He tries to ignore me while he makes a phone
call. I put my feet up on his desk just to see if he'll react. He acts
like he doesn't notice, but I can see I'm getting to him. He hangs up the
phone, knocks my feet on to the floor and shoves his booted foot into my
chest. Yes, there's fire in this boy yet.
 
 I think he's going to ask me about who's after me, but he surprises me.
"What do you want, Gerrard?"
 
 I don't think he wants to know what I really want, so I hesitate. I lower
my eyes so he can't see what I'm thinking. I notice the way the cloth of
his jodhpurs is tight against his crotch. My God, he's hard. It could just
be adrenaline, but maybe he does want the same thing I do.
 
 I figure my best shot is to aggravate him further. "All I want, Ben, is
your forgiveness," I say with as innocent a smile as I can muster.
 
 He pulls his foot away just an inch then slams it back into me, this time
at the base of my throat. "My forgiveness?" His eyes are blazing with a
look that would scare me, but I've seen worse since I've been in prison.
"You killed my father. You took away the only family I had left, and you
have the audacity to ask my forgiveness?"
 
 He's close to snapping, but I think he needs one more push. "Ben, I've
known you all your life. I can be your family."
 
 That did it. He lowers his foot to the floor and pulls me up by my collar
in one clean move. For a moment I think he might hit me. But he just takes
a deep breath and runs his tongue over his lower lip. I've seen him do
that a hundred times. It always has the same effect on me. This time is no
different. I already feel the stirring of my cock. This is going just the
way I wanted it to.
 
 "You'll never be my family." His words are cold, but they warm me
nonetheless. "The only thing you'll ever be to me is the man who killed my
father." With that he turns me around and shoves me face-first into the
wall. With my left wrist cuffed I can only partially brace for the impact.
My cheekbone hits the wall with a force that jars my teeth.
 
 He has his forearm pressed into my back to hold me down. With his other
hand he reaches around my waist and unfastens my pants, then roughly pulls
them and my briefs down around my knees. I hear him open his own pants. He
takes his arm away from my back but replaces it with his chest. I'm still
unable to move, and I can feel his harsh breath against the back of my
ear. 
 
 "Think about this, Gerrard, when you're rotting away in your prison
cell." He simultaneously pulls my buttocks apart and plunges his cock into
my ass. The pain is almost unbearable. Before I can get my breath back he
pulls his cock almost all the way out and slams it back home. His thrusts
are hard and fast, his movement designed for his enjoyment, not mine. 
 
 Just as the pain starts to lessen, just when I'm on the edge of getting
some pleasure in return, he thrusts once more and comes, burying his seed
deep inside me. He rests his weight against me for the space of a few
heartbeats, forcing more air out my lungs. Then he pulls his cock out of
my ass roughly, causing even more pain.
 
 Suddenly, it's over. I'm shoved out of my fantasy and onto the cold floor
of my prison cell. The voice of my attacker taunts me. "Thanks for the
fuck, Gerrard. I'll be back tomorrow, same time, 20 minutes before lights
out." And I'll have my fantasy, the memory of my Ben to get me through it.