Page 46 of Inside the Sun

My head’s still spinning, just enough for him to snap the cuffs onto my wrists and tie my legs to the table legs.

There’s no escaping it now. I curse under my breath. I know this is it.

I hear a drawer slam open. Anzo pulls something out. I guess I was stupid to think that just because the toys weren’t hanging on the walls, they weren’t here at all. Of course they are. In the damn dresser, waiting for ‘fun’.

He grabs a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. Something sharp and choking sprays directly up my nose. I cough hard, try to suck in another breath, but he repeats it, and everything starts twirling worse than before.

I recognize the stuff. I’d smelled it once or twice back when I was still with Diego, before Martin. But this feels way stronger.

My head goes floaty. The surroundings begin to feel… distant. Suddenly, I don’t care what’s about to happen. The colors of the room shift, getting too vivid, oversaturated, almost cartoonish. Then they start bleeding into each other like a dream or a drug trip.

I feel Anzo rummaging through the dresser, then pulling out something extra. Something cold and slick presses against my ass. The lubed tip of a dildo.

The next thing I know, a scream rips out of me when he shoves it inside my unprepared hole.

He pauses, but only for a second, like he's giving me a break, but he’s not being generous with that, immediately he starts fucking me with it, fast, rough, deep, no hesitation.

That’s unexpected. I don’t get why he’s using a toy instead of just doing it himself. Maybe it’s his way of showing how much he despises me? Or perhaps it’s some sick test of control. I don’t ask. I’m not that stupid. Pushing him now would turn this into something even more brutal.

The dildo hits my prostate dead-on, and the poppers he so generously sprayed up my nose kick in hard. I’m fighting it, Ireally do. But my body’s reacting anyway. The pleasure is there, sharp and unwanted, cutting through the hate, building up.

That makes it even worse, more humiliating.

I’ve never been in a situation like this. Never been forced. Never felt my body betray me like this. And now, with this happening, it’s like I’m losing the last piece of control I had. He’s taken away my right to choose what feels good and what doesn’t.

I hate him for that, and detest how trapped I feel. My dick’s locked in that cage, throbbing, but there’s no way to get an erection. Just this weird pressure, blood building up with nowhere to go. It’s agonizing. But no matter how hard I try to turn it off, the waves of bliss keep coming, my prostate, so intensely rammed, gives in.

Three minutes in, I lose it. My whole body tenses up, and I come in this fucking cage, cum leaking out of the tiny holes, and I feel like I'm an animal in a lab as the hateful orgasm rips through my system.

I hate him, hate him.

I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my entire life. I didn’t want to give him that, didn’t want to hand over that sick, twisted satisfaction, but he took it from me anyway. And even if he doesn’t realize it, this is the closest he’s ever come to breaking me.

Anzo smiles that same dark, evil smile.

"See? That’s the reaction I like. Looks like dealing with you won’t be as hard as with my sweet Summer, who’s completely immune to this kind of fun. But one day I’ll figure him out too." He laughs, low and dry.

My eyes flick to Summer. Did he mean he gave Summer poppers and fucked him with a toy—or his dick—and still couldn’t get a reaction? That’s insane. It’s practically pure mechanics.

One thing is for sure, I need to know his secret, because I can’t let Anzo take this one last piece of control from me: the power to decide what feels pleasant and what doesn’t.

Anzo finally pulls the dildo out of me, sets it aside on the table, and unties my legs. He doesn’t bother unlocking the cuffs.

Then he shoves me off the table like a sack of garbage. I fall hard onto my side, pain shooting through my ribs and hip again.

"You’re a fucking rapist," I growl through my teeth. "If this is your idea of ‘breaking’ someone, you picked the easiest goddamn difficulty mode."

"Patience," Anzo hums. "Why such a rush, Sun? Wanting to be broken already? All I’d need to do is bring your daddy here and let Rocco have his way with him, and you’d be in pieces. And he’s cute, your dad. You take after him."

Fear crashes into me like a wave of freezing water. I can’t breathe. I’m choking on it, lungs locked, and the sound that rips out of me is pure panic.

"No! No!!!" I scream as my body convulses, struggling against the cuffs, trying to jump Anzo, to kill this sick bastard, right here, right now…

But he stays calm. A fucking sadist.

"Calm down, pet. Lucky for you, I prefer a different approach. ‘Fast’ doesn’t do it for me. So go ahead, resist a little more. I thought you had that in you when you rejected my million bucks. So deliver now. Be like my precious Summer, he still hasn’t given me even an inch of what I really want."

He walks over to the wall and unhooks a hanging clasp. Then he crouches beside Summer, locks cuffs onto his wrists, and fastens them to the hook. At the wall, there’s a small mechanism. He starts cranking it, and Summer slowly rises until he's suspended by his wrists.

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