Without a Net (13 page)

“No!” Milan said sharply, and Ollie froze, caught between a need to reach orgasm and the realization that he couldn’t without help anyway. He could only close his eyes and suffer as he forced his hands back to his thighs. The plug was undulating in a way Ollie had never felt before, and he trembled with a need to grab himself. Ollie was quickly losing the ability to think clearly, but he forced his body into stillness.

Milan chuckled. “Such a good boy. You can’t help that you’re led by your cock, but you can choose who you allow to lead you.” Milan crooned as he stroked Ollie’s hair. “Such a good little cop. Now, let’s see if you can earn your keep today. You’ve been quite the demanding little creature, needing so much care.”

That brought Ollie’s eyes open as he looked at Milan in confusion. Milan was already reaching for Ollie’s hand and unbuckling the thick strap that kept the mitt on. Ollie was so surprised he could only watch as Milan repeated the process on his left hand, and Ollie stared at his own hands, which had become unfamiliar. He stretched and rubbed his fingers. It was like he wasn’t used to having hands anymore, which was one more thing he should probably discuss with that therapist he was never, ever going to talk to.

Milan leaned back and watched him, and Ollie twitched with the sudden realization he had choices. He could attack Milan and try to run for safety. He could play along and hope for rescue. But the best plan seemed to be to watch and wait for an opportunity. Ollie was done waiting for someone else to ride to the rescue. Besides, the transport here had been short enough that Ollie knew they were still in the United States. He’d find some opening to make a run for it. If he could reach a public road, at the very least some driver might call the police on the crazy man who was running around naked and gagged. It’d be embarrassing, but he’d learned to deal with embarrassment at a very young age. And then he’d go back to the department, and… Ollie couldn’t quite figure out what was supposed to happen from there.

He studied Milan’s face, struggling to sort through thoughts that chased one another. This was a test, and if Ollie ran, he might end up in even more pain than he was in now. His arms were sore and his body tired, so he wasn’t at his physical best. It was also rather distracting that the plug in his ass was slowly twisting and writhing in ways that made Ollie think that one wrong twitch and he would come all over himself, which would make running awkward and difficult.

Ollie glanced at the door, knowing he should want to run, but he decided to wait this out.

“I do enjoy a good gamble when I win,” Milan said with obvious amusement. “The pond needs to be redone. The controls for the water return are beside the waterfall. Turn the water off and then pull all the stones lining the pool out and lay them on the ground there.” Milan pointed to a bare piece of ground on the other side of the pool. For a second, Ollie could only stare blankly at him, the words not processing. Milan had him gagged and plugged and shoved in a cock ring, and Milan wanted him to do manual labor?

When Milan pressed the heel of his boot into Ollie’s thigh, Ollie pulled air through his nose and hurried to get up. Carrying rocks it was, then. Padding over to the small waterfall where the water from the tiny stream fell over a flat rock and into the pool, he found the control switch and turned it off. The water gurgled to a stop, a trickle slipping over the rock for several seconds until it went silent. And then Ollie waded into the cold water and bent over to grab his first rock.

As he bent, the plug pressed into his prostate and then vibrated so his cock hijacked all possible blood and became so hard that Ollie’s hands instinctively grabbed for it. He pitched forward and stumbled, splashing through the pool as he tried to regain his balance. He ended up standing in the pool, leaning on the rocks that lined the far side of it.

“If you come now, you will never come again in my presence for the rest of your life,” Milan offered in an amused voice.

Panting through his nose, Ollie stared at him. Milan gazed back with a Cheshire-cat smile. For a minute, Ollie closed his eyes and struggled against his body’s needs. Somehow, Milan watching him was making him harder. However, Ollie Robertson was not ruled by his cock. He stood and bent down again, this time moving more slowly as the plug shifted, and grabbed a rock. The mud at the bottom of the pond fought him until finally the stone came free with a sucking noise. Ollie carried it to the spot Milan had pointed to and then headed back for the next one.

Ollie worked, sweat trickling down his back in the hot greenhouse, and the cock ring held his erection out so it bobbed with each step, growing heavier with every passing moment. A man came, knelt, and offered Milan a laptop. They whispered earnestly, Milan’s hand resting against the messenger’s neck. As Milan scrolled through the information in the computer, he frowned.

“Ollie?” Milan called, and Ollie stopped and looked at him. He took the second’s rest to pick at a bit of dried mud that had splattered to his hip.

“Do you know a Detective Carom?”

Ollie shook his head as he tilted it inquiringly. He didn’t expect an explanation, and Milan didn’t give one. With a deep sigh, Ollie returned to his job of hauling the rocks out of the pond. His back and shoulders were throbbing, and the cock ring had become a constant torment, but he didn’t think his physical discomfort counted for much.

Actually, he knew from the training room that it didn’t count at all. This was the heart of a shade Dom—pain. They wanted submissives to suffer anything to serve at their feet, and too many submissives were willing to do exactly that. Ollie wondered how Travis’s theories on shade fit into this world. If Ollie had gone up to Travis’s apartment, would Travis have wanted Ollie’s pain? Would Ollie have enjoyed it? He’d been in such a difficult place emotionally he might have liked the distraction from the real world.

Thinking about Travis, Ollie regretted not taking a chance at a little happiness. Maybe when he got out of this, he could look Travis up. Ollie could take early retirement, and then they could drink a few beers and compare notes on their worst cases. Ollie would win that competition.

However, Ollie wouldn’t ever share the worst part. He’d been handled and teased and mentally rewired until he accepted the sort of rough treatment Milan offered. If Milan would just whip Ollie raw or break a bone, Ollie could better resist the temptation to give in to the Dom. It was difficult to convince himself that he was a captive when his hands were free and he was so hard he couldn’t think of anything except doing his job well enough that Milan might let him come. Yeah, this was one report Ollie was not writing up. No reports, no therapists, just a whole lot of repressing…if he survived long enough to repress anything.

Chapter Eleven

Dropping the last stone in place, Ollie sank to his butt and then moaned as it pressed the plug deeper into him. Across the muddy hole that was left of the pond, the messenger still stood guard, and Milan still worked on the datapad. From the pattern of typing and waiting, Ollie was guessing he was instant messaging with someone, but from here Ollie’s powers of observation were rather limited. Ollie wondered if it had anything to do with him, but that was probably paranoia whispering in his ear.

Of course, kidnapping tended to make a man a little paranoid. He picked a fleck of mud from his knee and tried to ignore all the various aches and throbbing soreness that had become entirely too familiar in recent days. Somehow having his hands free was worse than being chained because he felt so stupid for not unbuckling the gag or ripping the cock ring off. Fear kept him from doing either. Any freedom he had was illusory and would vanish the second he tried doing anything Milan disapproved of.

Maybe the lack of sound alerted Milan, because he glanced up. For a second, he stared at Ollie, and then he closed the pad and sat back. The man who had originally brought the message stepped away from the door as though expecting orders. “I need Ollie cleaned and prepared. Tell Robert that I have a chore I need to handle myself,” Milan told the messenger. When Milan pointed to a spot on the ground, Ollie knew he was being summoned.

He climbed wearily to his feet and headed over toward Milan, feeling strangely like he didn’t know what to do with his hands now that they weren’t chained. When he stood in front of Milan, Milan ran his finger along the underside of Ollie’s cock. It didn’t matter if Ollie could never come again; he needed to come now. He got one hand around his erection, but then Milan was up and moving, capturing Ollie’s right hand and kicking the back of Ollie’s knee so he collapsed to the ground.

Before he could bring himself off, he knelt with one hand braced on the warm earth to keep himself from going face-first into the dirt, and his other hand wrenched up behind his back. Milan sat on his ass. Ollie thought about rolling and trying to pin him, but considering how fast Milan had moved to put him in this position, Ollie wasn’t giving himself good odds. So instead, he dropped his head and waited.

Milan patted his shoulder. “So, are you playing a game with me or yielding? You are so much more dangerous than others have given you credit for…yes?” Gagged as he was, Ollie couldn’t answer. Milan ran his hand across Ollie’s trembling shoulder. At this point, Ollie feared crashing to the ground and sending Milan flying if the man didn’t get off him. “Your captain is playing a dangerous game. He believes his badge protects him from everyone, especially cute little detectives who make his life difficult. That would be you. He believes I have no options.” Milan sounded almost amused by that, and Ollie assumed that was because Milan had more than a few ideas about how to handle Captain Greyson. To be honest, Ollie wouldn’t mind seeing the bastard suffer a bit of the training Ollie had gone through.

Since there was nothing else he could do, Ollie waited, all the little agonies of his body nagging at him as he tried to stay calm.

“I would like more time to teach you—to prepare you…” Milan let his words trail off, and fear curled around Ollie’s heart. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid of the idea of more training or of whatever mysterious thing Milan was referencing. Ollie felt like time was running low, which implied something was coming.

“I expect you to show good manners at all times. Never show surprise, beautiful. The moment they know they’ve surprised you, they know where your ignorance begins. Show control, and maybe you will come out of this in one piece.”

The words were like ice water splashing across Ollie’s soul. The trembling in his arm grew worse, and about the time he thought he might fall, Milan stood. Ollie sagged to the ground, drawing air in through his nose.

“Form!” Milan snapped, and Ollie reacted before thinking. When trainers said that, the shock collar quickly followed if he didn’t use proper form. So he knelt up, his back straight and his hands behind his back.

“Good boy,” Milan said. “Hands belong behind your back when you stand or walk. If you have been ordered to kneel, keep your hands on your thighs.”

Ollie shifted his hands to his thighs and waited. When Milan crouched next to him, Ollie kept his gaze focused on the distant wall even when Milan wrapped his hand around Ollie’s hard cock. He’d been hard for so long that the touch was excruciating.

Gently, Milan teased the slit at the end and brushed his fingers across Ollie’s balls. Ollie breathed faster. God, he was so screwed, because his desire to come became so painful his eyes threatened to water, and the threads of agony wove through his whole body. And still, he wanted more. He let his eyes drift closed as the need drove away every other thought. All he had to care about was his need to come.

Every stroke rubbed him raw, and the two sensations of pleasure and pain twined around each other until both became a heat that controlled him. He opened his eyes and focused on Milan as Milan leaned forward, watching with undisguised lust. Milan brushed his knuckles against Ollie’s swollen balls, and Ollie shouted into his gag, almost coming, but he was caught on the razor edge of orgasm and in serious danger of losing the ability to come at all.

With a whine, he reached toward his cock, but Milan slapped him right on the shaft. Ollie screamed as the pain lanced through him and then faded. Milan ran his fingertips over the abused flesh.

“Control, Ollie. Everything is control. Prove to me that you have some.”

Ollie moved his hands back to his thighs and rode through the torture and then the tendrils of pleasure that followed. The plug in his ass was moving again, and Milan let his fingers slide across Ollie’s muddy skin. As flakes of dirt and crusted mud fell away, his skin began to itch more and more. So Milan’s fingers both teased and brought relief. Ollie twitched and strained, but he kept his hands on his knees through a combination of self-control and fear.

“Good boy. Now, do not disappoint me.” Milan’s tone made it clear that his disappointment would be a dangerous thing for Ollie. Ollie gave a single nod, and then Milan stood. “Follow,” he ordered.

With his body caught between pleasure and pain, Ollie rose as gracefully as he could, and he stayed behind Milan as they headed for the plantation house. His cock bobbed in front of him almost comically, but Ollie kept his hands behind his back. Whatever was going on, Milan would only show him down the rabbit hole if he had control. At this point, Ollie would suffer any pain for a few answers, so he was determined to demonstrate that control.

They walked in through a plain door, and Ollie realized it was some sort of mudroom, only with more chains. “Ellia,” Milan called.

A woman came from farther into the house. She wore a face mask that covered everything below her eyes, and pigtails. She immediately knelt, but not the way Ollie had been forced to practice kneeling. She wrapped her arms around Milan’s left leg and leaned into his hip as she looked up adoringly. She was nuts.

Milan stroked her head for a second and then gestured for her to get up. “Prepare Sunshine to service our guest. I trust your judgment to make him appealing,” Milan said. Ellia turned and studied Ollie so carefully he had to fight not to squirm. Only Milan’s presence kept him in place.