Running for Home - 46. January 27, 2022

January 27 2022

Cecilia discharged me from the medlab today. Bobby told me last night he’s going to stay in my room with me. I told him I wasn’t sure that was the best idea. Like I wrote last night, he’s been getting shit sleep since I was rescued, and barely slept in the days after I went missing in the first place. My bed isn’t exactly huge and I’m all bruised up. He smiled knowingly and didn’t argue. When we got upstairs this afternoon I realized why. He’d bought a larger bed and moved it into my room. Bobby kissed me and told me he didn’t want me to feel like he was smothering me, but he needed to be there with me as much as I needed him. I cried a little bit, but it was a good kind of cry.

Emma stopped by to visit before I came upstairs. I asked about my classes and was quickly shushed. She wouldn’t even tell me who was taking care of them, just to not worry about anything job related for the time being. I hadn’t even met my new students for this semester, anyway. Emma asked – well, no, told me I am going to see a psychiatrist about what happened. I snorted and said that after what happened in Iraq and how my therapist helped me deal with the fallout last time, I knew well enough that I’d need it. Emma seemed a bit surprised that I’d agreed so quickly, but it made her happy. She joked that she would have threatened my job if I didn’t agree to it, although it wouldn’t have surprised me at all if she tried pulling something like that had I been resistant.

Sigh. I’m doddering right now, avoiding writing the next segment of what happened to me. I guess I’ll get to it.

It was forever and yet not nearly long enough before Dom was back. He wasn’t drunk this time. He brought me food, actually. A bowl of thick beef stew and some water. I needed to piss, though. I’d been holding it in because I didn’t want to just piss on the cardboard I was stuck lying on, but also I didn’t want to move to the edge and piss all over the concrete floor either. I didn’t want to give him an excuse to beat me if I could help it. I asked him what he wanted me to do about it and he just smirked. I offered to piss on him if he’d prefer that. He shook his head and said that if anyone here was going to be used as a toilet, it was going to be me.

Dom set the food down at the edge of the cardboard and went over into the darkness outside of the lit area around the mat. I could hear him fiddling with something and each of the chains on me slackened. He came back with a new chain and attached it to the collar around my neck. He gave it a strong tug, propelling me towards him. I almost fell over, but regained my footing. Even with the slack it was hard keeping my balance with my hands cuffed together and all my limbs chained up. Dom led me over to a corner on one of the walls farthest from the mat. There was an open toilet there. He told me to do my business and be quick about it. He started to walk away, but I called back to him and asked him how he wanted me to aim my piss with my hands shackled together in such a way that the chain wouldn’t let me reach down far enough. He told me to figure it out myself and that if I made a mess I was going to be cleaning it up with my tongue.

The easiest way to deal with it was to sit down and piss like a woman, so I did just that. I twisted a bit so the chains were in a less uncomfortable position and pressed my dick against the lip of the seat so it was pointing down into the bowl. When I finished, I realized there was no toilet paper nearby. I shook my hips back and forth, whipping my dick around to flick off the last bits of urine. If I’d needed to take a shit I would have had to ask for some paper and also for help wiping my ass because of the restraints. I wasn’t sure whether I should mention it to Dom or not.

He called out to me impatiently from the mat. I started to hobble back, but apparently I wasn’t going fast enough. He disappeared into the darkness and I heard a mechanism click and I was almost dragged back to the mat by the chains as they tightened back up. I’m lucky I was able to manage staying on my feet because if I’d fallen over, the rough cement floor would have scraped me up good. I tried to listen for where he was but the noise of the chains dragging and the mechanism working hid his movements and he came back into the lit area from a different position. He was clearly smart enough to know that I’d be doing my best to figure out where that device was. I’d have to play it cool, though. I have to be careful. I can’t just jump at any opportunity. It has to be a sure thing, or I’m fucked.

“Quite the setup you’ve managed to put together here.”

Dom smirked. “It came with the building.”

“Christ, whoever owned this must have been one kinky motherfucker.”

“I’m pretty sure old Bucket Head would disagree.”

I looked at him, stunned.

“That’s right. Magneto sold this place to me for pennies – well, to one Nick Peters, anyway. Man I’m glad I never got rid of that fake persona. I’m still not sure why it wasn’t discovered and confiscated, but whatever. I probably have Mystique to thank for that. This is one of our old safe houses that never got liquidated after the Brotherhood dissolved ten years ago. He just rolled it into the Acolytes assets under a new pseudonym. This one just happened to have a hidden basement for dealing with undesirables and the whole building is telepathy dampened, so don’t go thinking that anyone is going to be able to find you here with that Cerebro bullshit.”

“The police are going to question you if they haven’t already. You’d be suspect number one, Dominik. What the hell are you thinking?”

“The police are already taken care of, and I have an airtight alibi. After all, I was working behind the bar upstairs and at least fifty people saw me there.”

“This is so beyond fucked up, Dom.”

He shook his head. “It’s not nearly fucked up enough. Now let’s get down to business. You can either let me feed you, or you can eat like a dog. Those cuffs are not coming off any time soon.”

“Even to wipe my fucking ass?”

“Oh, I’ll just hose you down. You’ll need a shower once in awhile anyway. If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you do it yourself eventually,” he laughed, but then leveled a stare at me that said he was entirely serious. Well, maybe. There was also something else in there, cracks in the façade. He was putting on a brave face, but he knew he’d completely fucked up now and if anything happened it would be over for him. He knew that, but probably thought there was no going back.

“Dom, it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to do this. You can let me go. I won’t do anything, I promise you that. Just let me go and I’ll walk away, no questions, no consequences.”

“It’s too late for that,” he said quietly.

“Why?”

Dominik looked at me for a second, considering. He shook his head and sat down on the mat next to me. He reached out and touched my cheek, but I flinched away. His hand dropped back to his side limply, and my heart caught in my throat for a second at the look of remorse and grief in his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have hit you.”

“There’s a lot of things you shouldn’t have done.”

Dom’s hand clenched into a fist, but he was looking away now, so I couldn’t tell if his frustration was with himself or with me. “Are you going to let me feed you, or are you going to do this the hard way?”

I swallowed. This was a tough choice. It’s not like eating from his hand was less dignified than bending over to use my mouth directly in the bowl. It also meant I’d likely stay at least marginally cleaner. Dom didn’t seem like he was going to rough me up and humiliate me now, so maybe it would be best to give him an iota of trust for the moment. Fuck.

“I’ll let you do it,” I mumbled, trying to keep the misery out of my voice.

And we sat there, together, for about ten minutes while he spoon-fed me that stew. I wanted it to suck, the whole experience. I really did. I don’t know what the fuck was wrong with me, but there was this stupid, fucked-up element of intimacy and comfort there. I don’t understand it. It was something… something different than I’d ever felt during our relationship, when we were together. It didn’t help that the stew was good. I’m not sure if it was just because I was hungry or if it truly was good food. It could have been. Dom was actually pretty decent in the kitchen, at least he was good when he was motivated. That was one of the problems those last couple years, of course - his lack of motivation.

When I finished, he placed the spoon and the bowl down on the cardboard and just looked at me for a second. I flinched when he reached up to wipe a little bit of mess from the corners of my mouth. He shook his head with this sad look on his face, took the soiled dishes and left me without saying a word. After the lights were out and he had exited through the door - it was somewhere to the left of me and up a ways, must be up off the ground on a stair - I let myself sink down onto that cardboard pad. I started to shake again.

I was scared. So scared. Suddenly, maybe, even more scared than I’d been when I first awoke in here, when I realized that Dom had got me. Angry Dom, violent Dom… I could understand that, I could wrap my head around him and his motivations and guess what he was going to do. But now? What was going on? What was his endgame? Fuck, he didn’t have an endgame, a plan. This was some last-minute, impulsive action on his part, wasn’t it? And now that he had me, he didn’t know what he was doing. Or maybe he did. Maybe I was letting his oscillations get to me, fuck with my head more than I should have.

The only thing I did know was that I would have no choice but to find out.