Captive. (ls)

3. Touch

I watched the taller male with an infatuated gaze, noticing that he touched and smelt everything, almost like a puppy.

His long, and I mean long, fingers curled around a bottle of lubricant that sat in a wicker basket beside my bed, "Master, what's this?"

"Him, put that down," I sighed, slipping a muscle tank over my head. It barely covered anything, but at least I was wearing something.

Looking back at the boy, I noticed him sitting on the floor hesitantly.

"What are you doing?" He pondered, head tilting to the side while watching me.

I rolled my eyes and gripped the hem of my shirt, flattening it down with my palms, "Getting dressed. What does it look like?"

He shut his mouth, nodding, but his pink lips opened as if he was going to speak, shutting just as quick.

"Spit it out!" I groaned, dropping my sweats and rummaging through the pile of jeans that the maid had currently washed. I smirked, noticing his eyes go wide.

"Does it feel weird?"

"Does what feel-.. Oh. Uhm, no. Warm. And soft," I shrugged, mentally slapping myself.

Subjects aren't allowed to wear shirts unless they've done something so insane that they deserve to wear one of my shirts, if they even get the chance to wear a shirt instead of a hospital gown. Like a threesome, or some shit, without lube.

He nodded, a soft "oh," spilling from his lips as his eyes stayed glued on the fabric.

"Up you go. We're going down to the general corridor," I muttered, taking his leash in my hand and walking swiftly out the door.

He followed close behind me and I could hear him grunt in annoyance as I gave the leash a little experimental tug. A smirked wound itself on my face, imagining the activities that would force many more beautiful sounds from his mouth.

"Master!" The boy gasped, placing a hand on my chest and stopping me from falling straight down the stairs that were just left to the kitchen.

His mouth gaped, quickly removing his hand and looking down, "I-I.. You didn't see.. I just.."

He stammered, a small squeak spilling from his mouth when I slapped him across the face. His gorgeous green eyes fluttered shut, and he started cowering away from me as much as he could.

Truth is, I wasn't mad. I just wanted to see his porcelain skin tinge pink.

"Don't touch me unless I tell you to," I spat, trying to cover up my own selfish actions.

He nodded meekly, his chocolate curls flopping over his eyes.

"Since you want to touch me so bad.. Bend over that table," I smirked, watching his pupils grow wide.

"But master," he breathed out, seemingly speechless at my request, legs shaking as he obliged.

"Strip down, Him," I commanded, noticing the tears starting to fall down his face.

Once his boxers were down, I spanked his bum hard; getting a tad bit horny from the colors his skin changed.

The little thing kept his hands over his 'manhood', ashamed for exposing himself to everyone. Strangely, he seemed to try to hide himself against me regardless of what I was doing.

This was a bit cruel, seeing as all the maids and slaves were just standing around, so I bent down and kissed his back. A part that wasn't covered in crusted over cuts, of course.

"Alright. Come on, him. We've still got tons of places to see."

*

Leading him to the tv room was difficult. He kept shying away from me, and it was getting on my nerves but I couldn't blame him.

Stopping just outside the spray-painted door, curtesy of Niall, I sat him down on the floor across from him before guiding him to sit as well, "I'm sorry Him. But you must know the rules if you are to be mine. Er.. My subject."

His eyes lit up a bit at the statement, looking up to check if I was lying or not, "Yours?" He squeaked quietly, his cheeks warming.

I smiled, nodding as I pulled him in closer and kissed his temple, "Mine. Now, let's go watch a movie yeah?"

He nodded and smiled contently, standing up as we both walked inside as he seemed to forget about the events that happened earlier but I highly doubt he did.

His whole body tensed when we walked inside and when I looked up at him, I noticed his gaze had landed on my real subject, none other than Niall.

The blonde bloke was laying on the couch, chest bare and legs bare except for his hand down his boxers.

"Niall!" I yelled, voice booming so loud that Harry flinched, and Niall shot up from his position.

"I'm sorry, Loui- er, Master Damien. It was hurting and you weren't around to use me.." He whimpered while keeping his eyes on the ground, squirming a bit as his hand twitched by his side, aching to relieve his urges.

I was tempted to take care of him right then and there, but refrained myself against it since Harry was there. The younger male was virgin, after all. He's never been touched by anyone, not even me.

"It's fine. Go in my room and finish up," I sighed whilst Niall raised his brows in surprise but didn't question me.

Once he left, I knelt down to the box overflowing with DVDs and shifted through them, "Alright Him, which movie?" I pondered, flipping through the cases mindlessly.

He came to sit beside the box, searching for a few moments before pulling out the deepest movie I had burned to disk in this house: The Breakfast Club.

One of my favourites, but I'd never admit that.

"This one?" He asked hopefully, and I could hear the tiniest bit of excitement in his voice. Though it was hard to hear anything except the pure sex that he spoke.

I nodded and popped it in before turning around and noticing him on the floor; cross legged and wide eyes as he waited for my arrival. A small chuckle escaped my lips and I smiled, sitting on the soft couch behind him.

His little mind seemed blown away by the people on the screen, and I couldn't help but watch the boy more than I did the movie. Some people are just too beautiful to not stop and stare at.

Maybe I do have feelings for this boy? I thought while threading my fingers through his curls mindlessly. He flinched away from my touch at first before actually pushing his hair further against my hand.

A small purring sounded from the taller boy, and a light blush rose to my cheeks. It was a beautiful sound. Too beautiful to be just used in a response to a movie.

"Him?"

"Yes, master?" He replied, peering up at me with huge green eyes that seemed greener than anything I've ever seen in my life.

I thought over my words, before a sly smirk fell across my lips, reaching out for the bottle of vodka with a shake of my head; quickly dismissing him.

My dear boy. Much too beautiful to not be held captive.