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This Ain't a Love Story

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I thought I would be waking up to another day of work. However, I am quickly discovering that I may have come into consciousness too soon, as it is still really dark to my eyes. I thought taking a moment to let them adjust would help, but here I sit in the pitch-black nothingness. Sitting. Wait, sitting. Not lying. I feel as if I’m on a chair; where is my bed? Why am I not in my bed where I was when I went to sleep last night?

Ah, crap, I can’t move; something’s got my hands held together behind me. No wonder I woke up with an ungodly ache in my shoulders and arms. Let’s see if--no, my feet are bound to the chair’s legs as well. What the ever-living hell?

“What the hell is going on here?” I hear myself yell out, but my voice seems to only bounce back to me in an echo and then nothing. It’s too quiet in here otherwise. And, too fucking dark. Shit, why can’t I see? I’m also shivering like a damn Chihuahua, but--phew!--I’m wearing my boxers, at least. Anything less would make this odd situation even more awkward. As if it wasn’t weird enough to begin with.

Wait, what was that? Did I just hear someone there? I thought I heard a body shift, and it wasn’t my own. At least, I don’t think it was.

“Who’s there?” I holler once more, my inner temperature beginning to rise with aggravation. Whatever is going on, it’s not funny! And, if I weren’t stuck in this damned chair, I would be busting skulls. You can guarantee that! But, whoever is chuckling over there is really asking for an ass-kicking.

The laughing subsides, but sudden footsteps tell me the mystery person is approaching and I’m trying to calm my nerves as I’m wasting effort thrashing against my restraints which I assume are made of rope as I feel them burn into my skin. It takes a special kind of patience for me to relax against the chair when all I can think about is ripping someone’s head off with my own hands. But, I can’t help but growl as I feel a pressure against the top of my head. A hand. It’s casually ruffling my hair and only aggravates me as I try to rise and bite the offending limb. The bastard laughs again. Yes, it’s a male. No woman would have such a gruff and dry voice, and no woman in her right mind would dare do this to the awesome and sexy Scout. At least, not without proper enticement, and I don’t recall getting any of that the night before. Also, I can smell the natural musk of a male, and there’s no doubt in my being. And, that only pisses me off more.

“Let me go, ya fucker!”

Yeah, that will show him who’s boss.

I suppose not. He’s only laughing in reply as I sit here and--wait, is he touching my dick? No, no, no, that is not cool, man! I give a threatening growl and again, I’m hurting my wrists and ankles against the rope holding me down. Wait--oh, hell no--I am not sitting here getting hard at his touch! No way! Now, I’m thrashing even harder, enough to flip the chair on its side, but the asshole is holding it in place as he continues to tease at me despite my protests. But, fuck if it doesn’t feel good, especially when I start feeling hot breath at my ear. Shit, this is so wrong, but no matter how much I threaten and twist about, he’s not stopping and neither is my own body. With no other choice on the horizon, I surrender, though I won’t be a whipped puppy. I mutter unpleasantries and grunt against his handiwork, but he’s either too experienced or I’m in a bad state of needing some heavy petting. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had some action and my body is giving in too easily for me to think straight.

I hiss beyond my control as he pulls my dick from my boxers and the warmth of his hand is just too fucking wonderful despite it being so rough against my tender flesh. He’s chuckling again and I make a last-ditch effort to try to bite his too-close face, but I can’t see him and I still can’t figure out why it’s so damn dark in here. I’m partially glad for that, because I’m sure it would be more embarrassing should I see his smug-as-hell face in front of my own blushing one. Yeah, I’m blushing. And, panting like a bitch in heat as he starts working his hand up and down my shaft. It’s getting a slight bit painful as his hand is dry, and I can’t help but give out a whine as he rubs me raw.

Fuck!”

Somewhere in the darkness, I saw freaking stars as I felt a very warm and very wet mouth coming down on me as I hit the back of the other man’s throat. This is still so very wrong, but my own hips are working against me and bucking as his tongue twirls around me as his mouth furiously moves up and down my raging hard-on. I can’t even form a coherent thought or phrase; I just return to panting and moaning like some everyday whore. But, I know I’m not. I did not ask for this. I’m simply enjoying what’s been given to me whether I wanted it or not. Carpe diem or some shit.

Fortunately, he’s not allowing me to writhe and suffer slowly as he continues his actions until I’m washed over with a wave of euphoria and I cry out at the force of my release spewing into the bastard’s mouth. He sucks and he sucks hard, swallowing every bit I could produce until I’m actually whining at the discomfort. He releases me with another damned chuckle, and I just casually wait until he unties me and allows me to kick his ass despite the pleasure I was just given.

Yes, he should be undoing those ropes about now. But, no, my ears hear the distinctive sound of a zipper and I’m back to freaking the fuck out and fighting against my bindings. A hand grabs the back of my head and holds me still and I do all I can to keep my teeth clenched as I feel a very unfamiliar object pressing against my lips. He was not about to stick his damn cock in my mouth without a fight! No, he wasn’t going to do it at all! I refuse it! I will sit here tied up for all of eternity before I would suck him off!

I’m growling for lack of ability to curse aloud, but the damn asshole has the great idea of pinching my nose closed. Fine, death by asphyxiation it is. I don’t even know how I could think up such a complicated word in this situation, but there it is. He pinches tighter and I can’t help but gasp in pain and lack of oxygen, and he takes advantage of his little clever trick, and I’m left without breath again as I’m choking on a very unwelcome dick in my mouth.

I’m refusing to cry, though the tears are forming at my eyeballs. I won’t let them fall because I’m not a damn baby. This is unfair, but crying won’t help a damn thing. All I can do is try not to gag as he’s thrusting his hips in my face and poking my throat roughly. I don’t even want to think about how large he is and how I manage to take all of him in, but I need something to occupy my time. Maybe I’ll think of my ma. No, no, shit, that’s just disgusting! Bad Scout! You are a horrible son!

By now, I’m gasping for air in between his bucking, but I can feel the dick in my mouth growing harder to the point of--shit, he’s not about to do what I think he’s about to do. No, you get that out of me right now! Fuck, I can already taste something disgustingly salty on my tongue and I start fighting again, but that damn hand at my head is holding me still and soon, my mouth is filled with hot liquid. And, fuck, it tastes nasty. I can’t spit it out for the cock still wedged between my lips so I swallow what I can to get rid of the vile stuff, but some spills out and runs down my chin.

There’s that chuckle again and a thumb is wiping the semen from my face. I wheeze pitifully as I catch my breath now that my mouth has been so graciously given back to me. Suddenly, there’s a bright light and I wince against it, peering from one eye and seeing a black cloth dangling in front of my face. A blindfold. A fucking blindfold. Well, now I see where I am, and I will be damned if I’m not sitting in a cramped room. There’s a small bed next to me, a kitchen behind me, and--awww, shit man.

“Sniper!” I spit as my eyes adjust and I’m staring at the Australian bastard in the flesh. He’s standing there adjusting his pants with a shit-eating grin about his face. That big, dumb, stupid face. I want to punch it so badly, but the rope eating my flesh reminds me that I’m still stuck.

“The fuck was that for? I am so kickin’ your ass!” I growl and the chair shakes beneath my body jerking. Fucking ropes.

“Sorry, lad, I just couldn’t help it,” was all the asshole hunter could say as if that made everything all peachy-keen and rainbows and shit. At least he was finally untying me, and the moment the ropes come off, I’m flying at his dumb face, giving him a perfect black eye for his trouble. He’s on the floor, and it’s my turn to get even. With all the anger building in my system, all I could do was explode with rage.

“You coulda just asked!”

Yeah, that’s what I said. I’m the Scout. I’m a freakin’ force o’ nature, a big fuckin’ deal, and I don’t back down from anyone wanting a piece of this hot ass. Deal with it.

Having said my piece, I find my wayward pajama pants nearby and put them on and left the bastard to rub at his now-swollen eye, dumb-founded beyond all belief. I’m grinning in spite of the situation, but I’m making way to the bathroom to douse my tongue in mouthwash.

Hell, maybe next time, he’ll buy me dinner and flowers first.