Page 62 of Trust

This is the part where Adam starts nitpicking my body. He says I need to exercise more, and eat healthier, but he also doesn’t want me leaving the house or cooking foods he doesn’t like.

Ilya’s smile widens. “You are so beautiful, Micah.”

I can’t tell if he’s only saying that or if he means it. So much, so badly, I want to believe that he thinks I’m beautiful, and talented, and that I’m anything other than a liar and someone who will ultimately betray him.

I’m not, I want to say.

But I know the truth of the world.

People are out to use others. Adam is right that Ilya is probably flattering me so he can get me into bed.

“Thank you,” I say, nearly choking on the words.

I’m only pretending, I’m playing along.

Except I know better.

“Kneel for me,” Ilya says, with a charge of dominance. He points to the spot between his legs.

I obey without hesitation, grateful for the clear order. I bow my head, my eyes downcast, and I feel steadier than I have since Adam had walked out of the restaurant.

This is known; this is familiar.

This, I can do.

Ilya strokes the top of my head gently. “You are so good, Micah. How you sucked my cock. How you listen to me.” He lifts my chin up and forces me to look him in the eyes. “Kiss my cock, Micah. Then you will lay down on the bed, and I will flog your ass and thighs.”

I lean forward to kiss his cock through his pants, mouthing it, then I rise, getting onto the bed. Once I’m on my stomach, I lift my ass up in the air to invite him to do what he’d said.

I need the familiar kiss of the flogger.

I need so much more, and I can get it from Ilya.

I shouldn’t trust him to give me that pleasure-pain, but somehow, for some reason, I do.

Adam would be yelling at me for being stupid. Ilya is a mobster. I can’t trust him not to cause lasting damage.

But he went out and practiced for my sake.

He wants to do this right.

Ilya gets off the bed and takes the flogger from a nearby bag. It’s brand new, bought just for me.

My stomach gets warm, and my cock throbs from the thought alone.

Ilya strokes my ass gently. “I’ll go easy at first. You can tell me if you want more or if it’s too much. I’ll listen to your words. If you say stop, I’ll stop.”

Adam always expects me to trust him, to take as much as he says I can, even if it means I take more than I want.

I need to stop thinking about him, especially in such a harsh light. I’m going home to him after all of this, and this is only twisting my thinking up.

“Okay,” I tell him, then I bury my face in the blankets, already anticipating the first strike from the flogger.

Ilya trails the tails of the flogger on my ass. The sensation tickles a bit. I don’t think I’ve felt this before.

The first strike is as light as promised, barely a blow at all.

I don’t ask for more, though. Not yet.