Caged (rewriting) (boyxboy)

Chapter Twenty

I nuzzle into his chest and lie there content as I further relax, until he tightens his grip on me and stands, walking into the bathroom with me in his arms. It feels good when he holds me. I remember back silently to when it scared me, when I was still afraid that he would drop me.

I know now that he won't.

He sits me on the countertop and tilts my head up so he can see my face.

"Bath or shower? I know you had problems with the bath but you've been doing a lot better lately, so if you want to try again we can."

I flinch. Choices. I'm bad at choices.

"Whatever Master is wanting, sir," I say, hoping that he'll just pick one. I'm not trained to make decisions, I'm trained to follow orders. I haven't ever had decisions to make and they stress me out.

"Why?"

What...why? Why what?

"Why, Sir?"

"Why. Why don't you just tell me what you want to do?"

"I-I...I am not knowing what I am wanting, Sir," I try to explain, "am needing Master to choose."

"You can make choices by yourself, love. Eventually you'll have to- I can't make every decision for you."

His words make me freeze, my shoulders tightening. Does he mean that he won't be here? That I'll be alone? That he'll...leave me? The thought makes me rigid with a tight fear that slowly unfurls in my chest, a flower of apprehension growing larger and larger. I fight to get control back but I know that control isn't in me. For anything. I'm not meant to control, I'm meant to be limp, passive, a toy or a plaything for a Master to bend and eventually break. Easily replaceable.

A long shudder works its way through my body, and I duck my head to try and avoid Master's gaze.

Of course he sees.

"Eyes up Jase. You've got to learn to stop hiding from me," he says, not unkindly, but sternly, letting me know that what he's said is an order. My head automatically tilts up, as if I'm a puppet on strings.

"Good boy," he murmurs, kissing my forehead. A burning feeling in my stomach makes me groan softly before I can help it. I want more. More of his lips. He's so perfect, and he cares about me for some unfathomable reason.

My thoughts frighten me for a moment and I tense up again. I want more? Who do I think I am to want anything? I am property. I am an object. I am meant to be used, not to have desires. Disgust pierces through me- I hate myself, hate my inability to be a good sub even in my own head.

A warm hand touches my face gently and I instinctually flinch back, jerking away from the touch. Immediately, I regret it.

My eyes flash up and lock with Master's, and what I see makes me so furiously upset that I want to disappear, punish myself forever for making the look there come into his eyes.

He looks hurt. It's only for a second, just a flash, but it makes me suck in a breath and my lower lip goes harshly between my teeth. I've hurt my Master. I hurt him. Me. By flinching away like a coward from a touch that was only meant to help.

"Sir, I-," I cut off, knowing that I have to stop acting like this. I have to go back to being a proper slave. A doll. I can't hurt him again with my movements, can't deny him a touch against his own property. I was a slave, before I came here. So why have I changed so much? A doll wouldn't hurt it's master. I won't either, I won't hurt him again. He's my Master. I am his Slave.

I just have to remember to act like it from now on.

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Dominick's POV: