The present
Connor awoke, the events of the last 24 hours seeping gradually into his consciousness. The first thing he was aware of was that his arms were no longer pinned behind his back. He sprawled spread-eagled on his front on top of the rumpled covers, his arms, so wonderfully free, stretched out away from his body, draped lazily over the bed. The thick leather cuffs were still wrapped around his wrists, but their complex metal buckles and clasps looked more like chunky jewellery than sadistic restraints. He was surprised that Mishka had managed to release him without waking him; he must have been far more tired than he had realised. A twinge in his ass reminded him exactly what had made him so exhausted and he blushed. Still, at least he’d had a good night sleep. He had to admit he felt much better for it.
Daylight filtered in through the small gap in the curtains. Connor brought a hand up to his face and sleepily inspected the cuffs. The leather was soft and multi-layered, and kept tight against his flesh by a set of three buckles which were then locked into place. Set into the leather was a solid metal ring that glinted dully, which could be used to connect them to each other or to tie him down to something else.
As he stretched on the bed he realised he was dressed only in his t-shirt, naked from the waist down and he could see his pants in a heap on the floor next to the bed. Again, memories of the night before came unbidden into his mind and he blushed some more, completely at a loss to understand what had happened to him.
He could hear the shower going in the other room and he twisted his head in that direction. The door was open and he could just about make out Mishka’s silhouette though the steam. His pulse quickened as the opportunity he had been waiting for presented itself. Quick as lightening he jumped out of bed, or at least tried to.
Too late Connor realised that while his arms were free, his ankle was tethered instead to the iron frame, and he fell with a clatter flat on his face, his leg twisting painfully behind him. Cursing he stretched up and desperately tried to undo the buckles and locks but to no avail. He was still tugging on them uselessly when he looked up to find Mishka watching him from the bathroom door.
He was still damp from the shower, his wet hair spiky and on end, and droplets glistened over his bare skin. A small towel was wrapped round his slim waist. Connor sighed and shrugged in defeat.
Mishka walked towards the bed and loomed over him, slipping a finger under the leather around his ankle and pulling, as if to demonstrate the effectiveness of the restraints still holding him captive.
“You can’t blame me for trying,” muttered Connor.
Mishka glanced at him. “Can’t I?” he replied, the possessive look he gave Connor quite unnerving.
Connor pulled his t-shirt down further, trying to cover himself in response.
“It would be better for you if you don’t try again,” Mishka continued in the same calm, patient tones.
Connor laughed nervously. “Or what?” he challenged, tilting his head to one side and running his fingers through his messy hair. “It would be better for you if I don’t try again, perhaps. I’ll get out of them eventually, I’ve been in trickier positions.”
Mishka ran a hand leisurely up the inside of Connor’s long leg, using force after Connor sharply brought his knees together.
“But you are in my custody now, human. Nothing you’ve experienced so far is comparable.”
Connor squirmed as Mishka’s hand roamed higher. “You will have to release me at some time.”
Mishka smiled slightly. “I have to do nothing of the sort,” he said, abruptly pulling his hand away. Connor stared at him in shock.
