One Night in a Dungeon Page 4

  “If he’s panicking, try tightening the ropes instead.”

  “That goes against everything I’ve learned.”

  “Rocco is different. You have to deal with each person differently. Rope makes him feel better. I’ve never had him ask to be untied because he was upset. Just the opposite.”

  “I didn’t think about it that way.”

  “Rocco is going to challenge you in ways you don’t realize. I think you’re also going to challenge him, and I mean that in a good way.”

  “You think?”

  “I do.” He tilts his head. “That is, if you can let go of the selfishness.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You are going at this thinking about you and how he reacts to you, not how he’s feeling. You are looking for typical reactions because that’s what suits you. Stop it. Let go of how you want him to make you feel.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but I know he’s right.

  “You can do it.” Cree gives me a pat on the shoulder. I pull away slightly, narrowing my eyes at him, and he holds his hands up apologetically. He knows I don’t want him to touch me.

  I take a deep breath and head back over to Rocco.

  Rocco keeps his focus on the blanket below him as I sit down and face him.

  “Maybe we should talk a bit more,” I say. Immediately I realize this isn’t the right approach. “I mean, let me talk. You can just listen if you want. If you have something you want to say, that’s okay, too.”

  “Sorry,” Rocco says quietly. He doesn’t look up.

  “Sorry about what?”

  “I freaked.” He shrugs and curls into himself some more.

  Rocco thinks he screwed something up? I pause as this realization coincides with Cree’s words, and I feel like I just walked straight into a door. I do need to think more about Rocco than I do about myself if this relationship is to have any chance at all, and I can’t do that until I get to know him better.

  “I need to learn more about you,” I say. “I’m going to have to understand what you want and what you need from me, and that’s...that’s going to take a little time. That’s okay. I mean, I’m not a patient person at all, but I’m willing to try.”

  “You want to try again?” He finally looks up at me.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “But I fucked it up.”

  “No, you didn’t.” I reach out, wanting to put a hand on his leg but not sure if I should or not, so I stop short. “I moved too fast. I made you uncomfortable, and I’m the one who should apologize.”

  He looks away again, his brow furrowed.

  “I know how much rope means to you. I told you what I get out of it, but I know it’s something else to you, and you still need that. I want to be your friend, Rocco. Even if it doesn’t work out between us in other ways, I promise I will still tie you when Cree isn’t available.”

  Rocco sits up straighter, finally looking me in the eyes.

  “Is this not working?” he asks.

  “Honestly, Rocco, I have no idea. I know how I feel about it—I really like tying you. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. You, though...you are impossible to read.”

  “I...I’m not good at talking.”

  “I get that. I’m not asking you to give me a five-hundred-word essay every time you open your mouth, but a little indication of how you’re feeling would be good. I know you got uncomfortable when I touched your legs, but I didn’t understand what would make it better, so I just stopped.”

  “I wasn’t...uncomfortable.”

  “You weren’t?”

  “No. It was just...unexpected.”

  “What was?”

  Rocco looks away, and I can see panic in his face as his cheeks flush red.

  “It’s okay, Roc. You can tell me anything you want. I’m not going to judge you.”

  “I...I...”—he stops and huffs out a breath before whispering—"I got hard.”

  I open my mouth to say that was exactly what I wanted, but I stop myself. I open my mouth again and consider asking him if that was what he wanted, but again, I stop as another realization smacks me in the face.

  “Rocco, have you ever had sex before?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Have you gotten close? Made out? Been felt up? Gotten a blow job?”

  He shakes his head again as he stares at his hands in his lap. He blinks a few times as if he’s holding back tears.

  “That’s okay, you know.”

  He lets out a short, sharp laugh.

  “I’m not joking.”

  “It’s not okay. I’m almost twenty-three years old, and I’ve never done anything like that with anyone. I don’t know how to act with people, so no one ever wants to come near me. I drive people away just by existing. I’m not okay, and I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

  “Who got dragged? I’m pretty sure I’m the one who insisted on it. That’s me insisting on being around you, which isn’t a lot like being driven away.”

  “Still...”

  “Still nothing, Rocco. This has been all my idea, and if it fails, that’s on me, not you.”

  “I did tell you I was a train wreck.”

  “And I told you I didn’t care about that. I’m fucked up, too, you know.”

  “Not like me.”

  “And how do you know that?” I place my hands on my hips. “You don’t know much more about me than I know about you. I’ve got my own level of trauma in my past, you know.”

  “I...I...” Rocco scrunches up his face.

  “It’s all right,” I say with a sigh. “Just...don’t make assumptions.”

  “Sorry,” he whispers.

  He’s agitated, and I need to calm him down again if we’re going to make any progress. I only know one way to do that.

  “Do you want me to tie you again?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Stand up, then.”

  I tie Rocco’s hands behind his back, then begin to wrap ropes around him. I watch his eyes close and his body slump forward a little as I contemplate what Cree said to me.

  Rocco is different, and I need to treat him differently.

  “Do you want to use safewords?” I ask.

  “I never have.”

  “This is different though, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “But words are hard.” Ideas begin to form in my head, and I slowly start unwinding the ropes around him, dropping coils on the floor as I go.

  “Yeah.”

  “You aren’t sure if you can do that, are you?”

  “I don’t know.” His standard answer.

  “Maybe we should try something else. Hmm...” I think about it for a moment as I reach for his wrists and untie his hands. “Hand signals aren’t great when you’re tied. What about moving your head?”

  “My head?” Rocco looks at the rope in my hands as I take the last strand away from his skin.

  “If you like something or you agree with what I’ve said, tilt your head to the right. If you don’t like it or don’t agree, tilt your head to the left. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Yeah.” Rocco nods. “I think that might work.”

  For a very brief moment, I think I catch the glimpse of a smile on Rocco’s face.

  “Let’s start simple, then. I want to tie your hands over your head, attaching the rope to the hardpoint above you. Okay?”

  Rocco slowly tilts his head to the right.

  “But first, I want to take off your shirt.”

  Rocco reaches for the hem of his shirt, but I grab his wrists with my hands.

  “I said I want to take it off.”

  He gives me a confused look before moving his hands away and tilting his head right.

  I take the hem of his T-shirt in my hands and slowly pull it up and over his head. I stare at his bare chest for a moment before I toss the shirt to the side.

 
“I’m going to tie you up and touch you,” I say. “How do you feel about that?”

  “Touch me where?”

  “Your arms, your chest—anywhere I want.”

  He tilts his head right, blushing slightly.

  I grab a handful of rope, quickly tying Rocco’s wrists in front of him before tossing the working end of the rope through the loop on the hardpoint. Moving behind him, I pull gently until his arms are stretched, and his hands are secured above his head. I smile to myself as I lock the end of the rope at the bindings around his wrists, immobilizing him and giving me all the access to his body that I might want.

  I swallow hard as I consider this, and my skin tingles with excitement. I place my hands on his shoulders and lean in close to him. He shivers once and then stands still. I run my hands down his back and then wrap my arms around him, holding him briefly before moving around front and looking up at his face.

  His eyes are closed, but his head is still turned to the right, so I continue, touching his chest and arms before moving to his stomach. I run my hands up and down his sides, stopping at the edge of his sweats. I hook my thumbs just inside the fabric.

  “I want to take these off,” I say as I look up at him.

  Rocco opens his eyes and looks at me for a second before slowly moving his head to the right, and I waste no time pulling the sweats down his legs. He steps out of them, and the garment joins the shirt on the edge of the mat.

  For the first time, I have a real chance to look him over. I walk in a slow circle around him, taking in every wiry muscle I can see. He has long, slender legs with just enough definition. He’s not buff like some of the other guys around here, and that suits me just fine. I’ve never had a thing for buff guys—it’s the skinny ones I’ve always liked. I look down. Though his ass is still covered by his shorts, I’m pretty sure he has butt dimples.

  I walk back to the front, run my hands up his arms, and then drag my fingers down his chest. I circle one of his nipples with my finger until it hardens, then do the same with the other one. I move my fingers down, tracing the ripples of his stomach as my gaze drops lower.

  That bulge. Maybe he’s getting a little excited, and maybe he isn’t, but that bulge is significant regardless. I take a deep breath.

  “Are you still all right with me touching you?”

  Rocco looks down at me, bites his lip, and nods.

  “Anywhere at all? Even over your shorts?”

  He nods again, but I realize I’m probably not being clear enough, and I don’t want to do something that will upset him.

  “I want a verbal response this time, Rocco. Just this once. I have you tied up and at my mercy, which is exactly how I want you. Now, I want to touch your dick. Are you all right with me doing that?”

  He tenses and sucks his lower lip into his mouth. He looks almost pained as he closes his eyes for a minute.

  “I’ll get hard again.” I can barely hear his soft voice.

  “That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”

  His eyes go wide, and I grin at him.

  “I want you turned on, Roc. You turn me on, and I think it’s only fair.”

  He stares at me, and I realize I’ve probably given him way too much to think about all at once. Just before I’m about to back off, he tilts his head to the right. As much as I want to take the action as a yes, I told him I wanted to hear it, and I can’t go back on that now.

  “Rocco, do you want me to touch your dick?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Good.”

  My heart begins to pound as I remember the first time I saw Rocco in the dungeon. I’d wanted to wrap my hand around that bulge even back then, and now I finally have the opportunity.

  Slowly, I remind myself.

  With one finger, I trace the edge of his shorts from his hip to the center. Unlike some guys, his dick isn’t pointing up, so I don’t touch the tip of it with my finger. Instead, that bulge is pointed down and to the right, which I consider to be a good sign.

  I move my finger down again, reaching the base of his dick first, then tracing the length of it through his shorts, all the way to the tip. I suck in a breath as I think about just how far a journey that is, and when I do, his cock twitches.

  I smile, encouraged, and reach underneath to palm his dick as I look up at him.

  Rocco stares down at me with his mouth hanging open. His chest moves rapidly with his quick breaths, and his legs tense as I stroke him from the underside. I feel the girth of his cock increase as I move my hand, wondering if I can adjust him under the shorts enough to make him a little more comfortable as he starts to get completely erect.

  Why the hell are his shorts still there at all?

  “I want to take these off,” I say as I tug gently at the hem of the shorts.

  Rocco gasps.

  “You want me naked?”

  “Yes. Definitely. Is that okay?”

  “I...I don’t know. Why?”

  “Because”—I lean in close, placing my mouth next to his ear—“it looks like your cock is going to bust right out of your shorts, and that can’t be comfortable. Mostly though, it’s because I want to see it.”

  Rocco continues to stare, apparently unable to respond. After a full minute has passed, I prompt him again.

  “Rocco?” I tug at the edge of the shorts again.

  I watch as his head slowly tilts right.

  I keep my eyes on his face as I slowly drop his shorts. He doesn’t appear to be panicking, so I look down again. I have to pull the front of his shorts out and away to get them over his cock, and my whole body clenches as it’s revealed to me.

  It’s glorious. Absolutely glorious.

  Cocks aren’t always attractive things, but Rocco’s is perfect. It’s straight and long and thick, and as I drop to my knees to take his shorts the rest of the way off, I feel like I could start worshipping it at any moment.

  With the shorts out of the way, I run my hands up Rocco’s legs but keep myself down on my knees in front of him. I don’t want to press my luck and go ahead to take the whole thing in my mouth right away, but I’m sorely tempted.

  I reach up, run my hand over the underside once more, then wrap my fingers around it. My fingers touch as they circle him, but just barely. With my other hand pressed against his thigh, I stroke him up and down.

  I can hear Rocco practically panting as I caress his cock, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve succeeded where no one else has before. I look up at him, raising an eyebrow as I smile and lick my lips. Rocco’s eyes go wide.

  Chapter 5—Rocco

  I think my whole body is in shock.

  My eyes can’t seem to convince my brain of what’s happening. There’s a very attractive woman kneeling before me with my dick in her hand. She’s smiling at me, and I just can’t cope with all the sensations rushing through me.

  I’ve never even come close to having anything like this happen to me before.

  I’ve masturbated, sure. I was once a teenager, and I took myself into my own hands on a few occasions, but even that was never a regular occurrence. I’m not even sure when the last time would have been. Masturbating usually needs some kind of mental image, and those sorts of images are hard for me to conjure on my own. Looking at pictures of naked women or porn is not something I care for, and I never had much success using such things. Coming up with an original scenario on my own is nearly impossible, so I just don’t do it very often.

  Now, I think my entire body, mind, and soul have gone into total overdrive. When she licks her lips, and I register the very idea of her tongue touching me there, I lose it.

  My body tenses, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Everywhere her fingers touch, I can feel heat building like an unchecked fire through dry brush. I can’t think. The sensation is too much. Without warning, I gasp and moan. My legs quiver. A rush of sensation cascades from my stomach downward, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  I come all over both Casey’s hand and the blanket
below me.

  Oh, shit!

  I want to run straight out of the building, naked or not, but I can’t go anywhere. My hands are secured above me, and for the first time ever, I want to start screaming out a safeword. Just tilting my head to the left won’t suffice. With no other option, I babble.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  If there was a worst-case scenario for any of this, I’ve achieved it. I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know what I was thinking even agreeing to come here tonight. Now I’ve made a bigger fool out of myself than ever, and I have nowhere to hide. Instead, I keep crying out.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  “Hey! Rocco! No!”

  Casey reaches up above me and tugs on the rope bight, immediately releasing my hands. My legs give out, and I crumple to the mat below. Before I can get up and run, Casey drops down with a rope in her hands, quickly wrapping it around my shoulders and locking it off behind my back before she wraps her arms around me. I feel her hand between my shoulder blades as she grips the rope and pulls it taut.

  The familiar feeling of the rope digging into my skin pulls me out of the panic, leaving me with just the embarrassment to deal with. Casey places her hand on the back of my head, pulling me down until my cheek rests against her breasts.

  “I’m sorry!”

  “Shh...shh...shh...” Casey coos at me, stroking my hair as she does. “It’s all right, Roc. It’s all right.”

  I can’t stop the tears. Casey strokes my hair for a moment, then pulls at the braid until it loosens, and she can drag her fingers through the free strands while I continue to cry like an idiot. I close my eyes as she continues stroking my hair over and over until it’s lying across my back and shoulders, tickling my skin.

  After a few minutes, I open my eyes, immediately drawn to the contrast of her pale skin against the sleek, black corset top she’s wearing.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  “Yes, there is. I might be a virgin, but I’m not blind or deaf. I know guys are supposed to have more control than that. I’m...I’m supposed to last longer.”