Page 58 of Inside the Sun

Anzo laughs. It's a rare sound, slightly mechanical, as if he's trying to be in tune with his cybernetic implants, but it seems almost genuine.

"You just need to plan your little stunts better, or your body won’t hold up next time," he adds coldly. His mood swings are huge.

A moment later, I feel a vibration deep inside me. The head of the dildo is positioned perfectly against my prostate.

Anzo leans down and blows a strong dose of poppers right into my face.

I cough, but he gives me another hit. That awful spinning feeling hits me again, and that sickening loss of control over my own body and will.

Fuck, oh how strongly I hate this… I know exactly where this is heading. But I’m in for a surprise.

The toy vibrates inside me. Anzo leans over and grabs it, moving it around to intensify the sensation. I can only lie there and take it, helpless. And the same thought keeps flashing through my head, why isn’t he fucking me? Why is he doing this with a toy?

Is his dick really that small, and he's ashamed of it, or is he just so disgusted by me? His way of showing that he has total control over his own libido?

If he were fucking me, at least my body would be giving him something, some kind of use. But the fact that he’s not… that’s even more disturbing.

A cold, calculating game is on?

Until I have something he finds useful, my life means nothing to him.

I’m getting closer. The sweet pressure building inside me, mixing with anger and disgust. But soon the pleasure wins, and right before I’m about to explode inside that damn cage, Anzo pulls the dildo out!

"What the hell? That’s rude!" I blurt.

"You think you earned it?"

"You’re seriously fucked up," I growl.

Personally, I hate edging. It’s never sat right with me, kind of rubbed me the wrong way. I’ve been the passionate type, with no patience for these refined little games.

I glance to the side and see Summer, kneeling in the corner like always.

He’s not looking at me. He’s staring at the ground. I still don’t even know what color his eyes are, not that I care.

He’s clad in the same black-strapped outfit as yesterday. His small frame looks completely wrong in it, but Anzo still makes him wear it.

"Can you just tell me what the hell you want from me, Anzo? I mean sir! If you’re gonna kill me, just do it. And if you wanna fuck me, then just fucking do it—"

Anzo moves behind my head.

I feel his hands on my neck, sliding down to my chest, fingers pinching my nipples lightly.

But there’s no pleasure in his touch. My whole body is tense, waiting for a jolt of electricity or a punch from his mechanical hand.

"You’re very pretty, kitten. People like you think they can coast forever on their looks. Waste their youth on bullshit, and then get pissed when the charm wears off, when no one gives a damn anymore, when no one follows them around."

"And that’s what retirement’s for," I mutter.

"There are better ways. Smart investments. Ways to set yourself up for a life of luxury, if you play your cards right."

"Sorry, I’m eighteen. I’m not exactly planning for eighty," I sneer. "But hey, you’re the mastermind who’s always five steps ahead, so maybe share your genius with us little people. Sir."

"Eighty? You’re not gonna live that long. That much I can promise you," Anzo murmurs, tightening his grip around my neck just enough to send a chill down my spine.

He circles around and shoves the dildo back inside me.

The vibration kicks in again, and my frustrated body tenses in protest. I don’t want this, not like this, not now. But I can’t stop it.

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