27. Trapped

801 70 7
                                    

** WARNING **

This chapter contains talk of CNC play (Consensual Non-Consent)

–––--

Simon

I just stared at the phone. Had Jamie taken it that seriously? I had mostly done it as a fantasy thing, but he was really thinking about it as something that could happen in the not-too-distant future. And of course he made a list, just like the last time they were in my apartment. I smiled to myself and answered.

"What do you think? He's that serious? I didn't even tell him it could happen at any time, as long as we agree? Not that it will in my current fucking situation, but still?"

I thought I wouldn't get an answer until tomorrow, but the phone buzzed immediately.

"He knows. He said as long as you read the list, you have the green light. So if he's serious? Fuck yes. So now you have something to look forward to, psycho boy. Check your mail. Sweet dreams."

My fingers were so sweaty that the screen didn't respond properly, and I cursed furiously, but eventually managed to open Ash's email. It was a picture of an actual fucking list, scribbled down in Jamie's neat writing, with bullet points of more or less specific actions, several of them crossed out but certainly not all. Many of them I knew he already liked.

I smiled at the crossed-out phrase 'play in the stairway'. What the hell did he think, I would have been arrested in like five minutes. Also 'hard kicks' was crossed out, but I would never do that anyway. Safety was of the upmost importance. But 'suffocation' was there all in black. And 'sharp knives'.

My imagination kicked in instantly. Jesus fucking Christ. I was going to have trouble sleeping tonight. And I just had to get Gray out of the house soon, or I was going to lose my mind for real. Just survive the damn party, then I needed to do something.

***

It was a relief to have the place to myself all morning, Gray had gone out with Corey to, as they said, 'score some booze', so I could work in peace without any disruptions. Which was a damn good thing, because I was having all the trouble in the world concentrating after last night's conversation. I had read that list probably a hundred times.

As soon as the party was over, I was going to focus all my energy on getting Gray out of the house. But first things first. I didn't want the apartment to be completely destroyed, and I needed to be as sharp as possible, especially since Emelie's party and Gray's buddies were probably going to cross paths one way or another.

I hadn't said anything to her about Gray staying here, hadn't had any desire or energy to answer all the inevitable follow-up questions that would come. She would just have to be surprised. Or pissed off.

Around five o'clock I heard the front door open and an unmistakable clinking of bottles.

"Simon, there's some dude here saying he's delivering some fucking catering?" I heard Gray shout, and I quickly got to my feet and went out into the hall.

The hallway floor was covered with bags of bottles, and Corey easily grabbed six of the bags and pushed past me into the kitchen. Out in the stairway, I saw a young guy looking spooked, carrying a large, insulated bag. I tried to smile reassuringly at him and thanked him and took the bag. When I entered the kitchen, all the counters were full of bottles, and I closed my eyes for a second to avoid exploding.

"Why the hell did you get catering?" Gray said, looking completely uncomprehending. "It's not that kind of party."

"It's not for that party," I muttered, and started setting up the food on the stovetop for lack of any other surface. "Evelyn has her graduation reception here in an hour."

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: 4 days ago ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

Make me begWhere stories live. Discover now