Sex in C Major
Chapter 30

They were maddening.

And Stefan could do nothing to stop them.

So he knew he was in a free-fall-and yet when the phone went off on Friday evening, he lunged from stabbing the plastic cover of a microwave meal to grab for the handset before the first peal had even stopped.

"Sir?"

"There's a taxi coming to pick you up. Five minutes. He knows your name and where he's taking you."

"Should I bring anything, Sir?"

"No. You won't be long."

The call cut out as suddenly as it had started, leaving Stefan staring dumbly at the handset-then, swearing, he remembered he'd disconnected the buzzer months ago. He threw the microwave meal back into the fridge, and rushed for his shoes. Within thirty seconds, he was out of the door, forgetting his jacket entirely, and running down the stairs.

"Aye-aye, gorgeous, gonna stop your tits long enough to say hello?" a jeer followed him and his bra-less, obvious chest-down past the second floor.

Stefan swallowed the urge to retreat back into the flat. Daz would punish him for disobeying. He couldn't disobey. Not for some junkie who thought-who thought-

A car was just pulling up when Stefan burst out of the communal doors, and an Indian man leaned out, a glance flickering down to Stefan's chest.

"Miss Steph, yes?" he called.

Stefan's skin crawled, but he nodded.

"Middleton, yes?"

"Yeah." He got into the back, and huddled into his T-shirt, suddenly regretting not pausing to change or replace a coat. He'd been ready to go to bed. He hadn't expected to be called away, or for anyone to see. Suddenly, desperately, he wanted his binder.

"Any plans, Miss, yes?"

He ignored the attempt at conversation, and looked out of the window resolutely. High. Looking at the rooftops and a helicopter on the hunt for something-not at the reflection in the glass, with a lumpy chest and overly pink lips. Not at the girl in the glass. He wasn't her.

Watching the helicopter prowling overhead, Stefan forced his mind off the jeer and towards Daz. He'd said this wouldn't take long. So maybe it was just a fuck, without any mind games or bondage. Maybe Stefan would be dragged into the hall, fucked on the stairs, then have his jeans pulled up and be pushed back out into the cold with cum still leaking out of him? Or maybe he would be shoved to his knees to have his face fucked like in the coffee shop bathroom, and turned back out without even being given a chance to wipe his mouth. Or perhaps and Stefan shifted uncomfortably-Yannis wanted to see what the new toy had under his clothes, and he would be stripped and told to masturbate for them to watch. Daz had said he wanted to explore Stefan's use of his body properly, in order to exploit it best. It stood to reason he'd want to see how Stefan pleasured himself...

"Everything alright, Miss, yes?"

Stefan nodded vaguely as they joined the ring road. It was late, and the taxi surged forward. With a chill, he wondered if it wouldn't take long because Daz was setting him up for another day. He'd mentioned a chastity belt before. Or maybe he was giving Stefan a collar or a choker. Wildly, Stefan wondered if he was getting a tracker. Maybe Daz wanted to know where he was at all times; maybe the phone wasn't enough.

By the time the taxi turned into the narrow street, Stefan's stomach was a knot of anxiety, his boxers damp from anticipation. The front door opened as he got out of the car, and Yannis wandered casually to the driver's door to pay him. Stefan hesitated, until a shadow appeared in the doorway and he was beckoned.

Daz was just wearing his tracksuit bottoms again. And he was wet. Water was glistening in bright drops on his chest hair, an adventurous bead breaking free as Stefan watched it begin an epic journey down taut abs towards Daz's waistband.

It disappeared. A spot of dark grey bloomed on the light grey fabric, Stefan's mouth watering with the urge to follow it.

Then the front door closed behind him, and Yannis brushed past into the living room without a word.

"Strip," Daz said.

Stefan fumbled with his clothes, dropping them in a pile on the floor. He even toed off his shoes without prompting, and held his chin high to avoid accidentally glancing down at his chest. His heart was beating hard between them. His dick was throbbing just at the scrutiny in those blue eyes.

Then they were gone as a cloth was slipped over his eyes. Stefan's hands rose in surprise, and were slapped back down before the blindfold was tightened.

"Safeword?"

"Checkmate."

His hands were drawn behind him and tied together with a thin rope. Stefan hesitated, pulling slightly, and had a dry finger stroked down the cleft of his arse.