Page 2 of Restraint

“You’re being stupid,” he muttered as he started to stir the oats in. The kettle was ready so he poured the hot water into his mug to steep.

When the oatmeal and tea were done, he took both to the small kitchen table to eat. He sat, still feeling those invisible eyes on him. The shadows of the apartment were thick, and Jamie should probably turn the light on but he didn’t want to get up again. Didn’t want to give into the illogical fear.

As he sipped his tea, he felt something touch the back of his neck. It was a barely-there sensation, like a breeze across his skin. Jamie sucked in a breath and twisted around in his seat.

Nothing was there.

He grit his teeth and reached for the spoon in his bowl. He made himself take a scoop of oatmeal and eat it, ignoring the next phantom touch across his ankles and then up his leg. The table was obscuring a direct line of sight, but he was certain nothing was there. It was in his head. It was all in his head.

“Nothing’s there,” he said. It felt better to say it out loud. Reassuring. “You’re by yourself.”

He tried to focus on eating, pulling out his phone to scroll for added distraction. He was supposed to be having a nice, cozy morning in, not spiraling himself into a crisis.

The food and the warm cup of tea helped, but he still found himself looking over his shoulder as he took his mug and bowlto the sink when he was finished. He rinsed and put them in the dishwasher and not for a single moment did he feel like there weren’t eyes on him.

Maybe another cup of tea would help. Maybe a cup of tea and some reading. Something to get his mind off of this stupid dream.

Jamie poured another cup to start steeping and then walked to the living room to turn on one of the lamps.

The light helped. Almost immediately the strange presence at his back receded.See?He thought to himself,it’s all in your head. It’s just the dark playing tricks on you.

Ten minutes later Jamie had a new cup of tea and a good blanket and had curled himself up on the couch with his phone. He’d only turned on the one lamp, but it cast a warm glow to the room that was perfect with the rain pattering against his windows.

He unlocked his phone, intending to go to his library app to pick a book, but his thumb missed it and tapped the browser. It opened to the last tab he’d left open.

The tentacle porn.

He should close the tab. All the tabs still open. Should close them to prevent himself from falling back down that rabbit hole ever again. He didn’t need any more weird dreams.

His finger hovered over the X on the browser, but then his eyes caught on the face of the man in the art. The man’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back in pleasure. It was clear he was enjoying himself. Enjoying being held down,filled.

The helplessness in the dream had been frightening and overwhelming, but Jamie could feel the heat stirring low in his belly as he recalled it. He didn’t want it to happen again, but he couldn’t deny it had been one of the most intense things he’d ever experienced.

Jamie knew enough about sex to know there was a whole realm of things he’d never had the time or courage to look into. There were toys and… clubs. Games people played.

Once, a couple years ago, he’d accidentally stumbled across a dark, explicit video on the Internet. A man had been secured to a bench and was being hit with what looked like a belt. Jamie had almost dropped his phone in his hurry to back out of it.

At the time he’d been terrified of his mother walking in and hearing it, accusing him of looking at something like that on purpose. But what he’d seen had stayed with him. It had lingered in the back of his mind since, and he didn’t understand why.

Jamie didn’t have to worry about his mother walking in on him anymore though. If he wanted to look, he could.

No one would know.

He tapped his finger against the edge of the phone, then moved and flicked through the open tabs. Now that he was looking at it clear headed, there was an obvious theme to all of these images. Jamie had scrolled through so much last night, and skipped past some of the pieces without a second glance. He thought back to that belting video. He knew that he didn’t want something likethat,but there’d been something to the video he couldn’t shake.

Not the pain, but the–the–

Jamie’s cheeks flushed.The helplessness.That video and all of the pictures he’d lingered on had that in common. Each had a certain kind of powerlessness experienced by the subject. They weren’t just restrained, they were being held in place. Immobilized. Taken.Used.

Jamie clicked on the tab that had the most intense depiction. The tentacles had wrapped all the way up and down the person’s body, almost like rope. He clicked over to the artist's portfolio page.

He licked his lips as the images loaded. There was a lot to choose from.

Jamie scrolled through picture after picture, his heart pounding, the heat rising in his body. Then he stopped dead. His breath caught in his throat.

Halfway down the page was something different. An artistic rendering of a man suspended, arms folded into his body. He was covered head to toe in intricate knots of rope.

It was beautiful.

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