I wake up chained in the metal alcove, a modified horse bit in my mouth. How long have I been here? I am in a sitting position, my arms stretched out, almost painfully shoulder level. My wrist incased in heavy gauge metal; same with my ankles, which are spread about two feet apart. I am again captive until someone makes the mistake of unchaining just one of my limbs. I can hear other prisoners testing their bonds as I had done earlier.

    There were three of them. Even with the blindfold on I have a clear picture of the room in my mind. There are pair benches in the center of the room. Where the guards sit back to back. One guard was watching me and the other prisoner to the left on the west side of the small room. The other guard was keeping her eye on the two enslaved men to the east. There was a door on the south wall of the room. This is the door I plan to use as soon as some asshole miscalculates exactly how dangerous and mad I am. And I am thoroughly pissed off to be in this position; headed back to slam.

When the skiff we used to get off that hell rock had docked on a sub station the hatch had opened to reveal 7-armed guards and one mercenary, intent on gaining credits for my battered and beaten hide.
Maybe the fact that I was so mentally and physically exhausted was the reason they took me without a fight. I can recall thinking Jack and Iman would get hit in the crossfire of their weapons. But that couldn’t be the reason I just let them take me. As they injected the tranquilizers I heard Jack protesting in tears that I was not Richard Riddick. Iman had even stood up and boldly told them I was not the man who they believed me to be. The Holy man stood and lied. The tears and archaic curses were to no avail. Well, what’s the saying? No good deed goes unpunished.

    The damn Merc was armed with my most recent likeness. Even without the shine job on my eyes, I am always noticed. People just seem to remember me. I scare them, even the ones I never intended to scare. It has always been hard for me to blend into a crowd, which is why I prefer to be alone. No people, no chance I will be recognized and sent back to the slam.

    So here I sit, wondering why in the hell I went back for them. Why I let that little waif make me feel the need to go back. I stand and yank hard on my chains, a sudden burst of anger, or is it hurt, fueling me. Not for me Caroline, You did not die for me. You died for the man you thought I was, or you wanted me to be. But it wasn’t for me. One harder jerk on the chains, that wouldn’t budge.

    The guard facing me tells me to sit, He sounds like a child, twenty-three tops. I stand and wait. What will he do, how will he react to his authority being questioned. Seconds tick by they seem like minutes. I hear him slide off the bench and his footsteps walk right up to me. I can imagine the firm set of his jaw, and the anger in his eyes. I wait to hear his spring coil leave its holster; I wait for the sharp jabbing pain to my head or ribs. And I keep waiting.

    He is just standing not a foot away from me. I can smell the water he just drank on his cool breath, it makes my stomach turn and my throat tighten. I realize I’m hungry and thirsty. He is staring at me, boldly; they are always bold to look at me when I have on a blindfold.

    Johns is the only man who ever had the guts to size me up while I looked at him. My stomach turns again, from anger? From hurt? For what? Johns? That damned planet fucked up my way of thinking. I dreamed of killing Johns hundreds of times in my cell at slam. But for some reason I could never bring myself to finish him off. I had plenty of chances; he knew I didn’t miss the sweet spot. I never miss. I let him live then. But then I let those monsters on the planet do him for me. I guess I never thought they would take him. If he had not have loaded that red shell; he would have made it off the rock too. I already miss the fucker. The years of cat and mouse had turned him into my only friend.

    The brave little guard then places his hand on my chest and nudges me while whispering, “Please sit down Mr. Riddick” I have to admit, this was not the reaction I expected. I stand my ground and the nudge turns into a little push. “Please sit down, Sir,” He is still whispering but the tone had changed. More commanding than his first request, yet it sounded almost pleading. I lean forward as much as the chains would allow. Merely an inch from his face, I could feel his body heat. He wasn’t as small as I first made him; he was as tall as me. And from the feel of his presence, he seemed strong. I am guessing he has a build like Johns. Suddenly I am exhausted again. His hand is still gently but firmly pushing me down. “Please” He says, His voice trembles. Is it fear; had my exploration into his personal space shook him that bad? I allow him to push me back into a seated position, and I drop my head. I am fatigued and growing tired of this game. The kid is no match for me. If invading his space rattles him, I can take him out easy enough.

     I hear the other guard stand, she tells the kid she is going to commissary for grub. The kid, who had still not moved an inch, hummed an acknowledgment at her. The guard punched in the code and the doors whirred open. It is a five-digit code that is safely stored in my memory now. Not for sure but it sounded like 33187 it will take me but seconds to figure it out once I get there.

    He is still staring at me. I start to wonder if he was just holding his anger in check till the spectator left, and I may still get my head cracked open. Raising my head so I would be looking at him if I could see, I wait. In a tiny voice the kid asks “are you thirsty?” I tilt my head, I am not sure he is talking to me, and try to voice this with body language. I hope he is. It feels like he is still looking at me. I may be able to get this kid to make a rookie mistake. A little mistake is all I need.

    I feel him move forward even before his fingers rest lightly on my forearm.
“Are you thirsty Mr. Riddick?” he whispered.   I stay still for a second. Then give him an affirmative nod; slowly: I do not need to scare the kid now. He lifts his hand off my arm and to the bolt on the bit. He starts to unlatch it and stops. I hold perfectly still. I am afraid if I even breath the kid will bolt right out the door. His knee is touching mine and he leans into me his mouth so close to my ear I can feel his lips touching the tiny hairs.
He whispers softly in a singsong sweet voice “if I take this bit out, you wouldn’t bite me would you? You are not the kind to bite the hand that feeds you? Are you?”

    I resist the urge to head butt him right in the fucking nose and shake my head no, slowly. Which made his mouth press into my check. His lips touching my check he whispered, “I believe you”

    For the first time it dawns on me, that may not have been fear I heard in his voice earlier. Or it may have been fear mixed with lust. I almost laughed. If it was lust, I am already out the door. This kid may give me codes for a skiff and star maps to boot. I have that effect on women and some men. I think it is the size, build and menacing look. Some people just get off on bad boys. Which I guess, is lucky for me. I have gotten out of many a tight spot with a minimum of flirting.

    He takes the bit out, and I almost moan. It feels so good to have that thing out of my mouth. Then I feel him pressing his container of water to my lips. The first mouthful makes my stomach turn in on its self; a cramp almost takes my breath away.  I of course show no sign to the kid. You never show any weakness to potential enemies.  I swallowed mouthful after mouthful until he took it away.

    “You don’t want to drink too much, it may make you sick” He paused, and almost like an after thought added, “And I am not cleaning up any more of your messes.” He moved away from me over to the bench in the center of the room. Had I been sick while drugged up? I concentrated on myself; I am no longer wearing the clothes I had on when they first got me. I do not have a shirt on at all, and the pants are soft cotton, with a drawstring waist and there are no undergarments. I have on socks and no shoes. I lean back and rub my head against the metal of the wall behind me. Some one had shaved me recently; rubbing my chin against my shoulder I noticed no stubble there either.

    Well, it’s time to figure out how to work the kid, Let the games begin.

    “Did you clean me up?” I sounded like I had gargled with gravel. I fight back the impulse to clear my throat and try again. “Yes, You were a mess, you have been sleeping about three days now. I was starting to worry I gave you too many tranquilizers.” He sounded almost cordial. I know he is waiting for a thank you. And he will just have to keep waiting. “What did you do with my goggles?” That sounded better, still low but not so much gravel.
“They are here on the bench. Would you like them?” He sounded sincere. It was worth a shot.
“Yes” and as an after thought I added “please”

    He chuckled to himself softly, “that must have hurt” his voice wavered with his laughter and it pissed me off. I worked hard to not clench my teeth or fists. I did not want to scare him off now. He moved towards me, standing between my legs he pushed a finger between the blindfold and my temple. “Lights full dim,” He said in a loud voice. Not the same voice that the kid had used on me, but a voice that rang of power and self-assurance.
He lifted the blindfold off and even the dim lights hurt me for a second I blinked trying to get acclimated to the light. He backed up a step or two. To his credit studied me just as audaciously as I evaluated him.

    He was about 6 foot tall, with a lean, almost skinny, but powerful build. I could take him easy in a fight of strength, but his stance told me he knew how to fight, he wasn’t posturing, just standing there; but his body whispered of the same self assurance I had heard in his voice a second ago.  He had long blonde hair, past his shoulders. The long hair means he does not fight on a regular basis, no one who fights much keeps their hair that long. So he knows how to fight, he just doesn’t do it much. The feature that jumped out the most were those Crystal blue eyes framed by dark lashes that made them look even bluer. His face was almost girlish, and he had thick full lips, that looked red. The bottom lip looked swollen, like he had been chewing on it. As I watched him look me up and down, I felt the need to stand. My instinct to prove dominance was almost overwhelming. I manage to push it aside and remained seated. He looked me square in the eye and held my stare for a few long seconds before looking at his feet. He seemed to pale, and started shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I felt like I was losing him. I had to do something fast.

    “What’s your name kid?” I tried to sound friendly. He looked up and into my eyes, his breath seemed to catch, then he whispered “Michael”   “Michael” I repeated.  I thought I saw his legs shake, like he was going to pass out. But he was still looking at my eyes. The mirror effect sometimes throws people. “Are you all right Michael?” I repeated his name again. A trick I learned from every psychologist I was forced to speak too over the years. The more they use your name, the more comfortable, open, and responsive you are suppose to feel. It never worked on me, but this kid ain’t me.

    “Yep, I am fine.” He backed up and sat on the bench, never taking his eyes off me. He is keeping my gaze; So It is time to find out if it was fear or lust. “I see that.” I said in the sexiest voice I could muster, as I looked him up and down. The kid visible froze he did not take a breath for a full minute, then his color deepened to a shade of red I couldn’t identify. He dropped his stare to the bench beside him there was a container of some kind soft mushy food he had been eating earlier. He picked it up and poked at it with the spoon. He finally worked up enough courage to look at me again.

    “Are you hungry?” the strong voice was back.

“Yes, Michael, I am.” I tried again to sound affable. To his measure he stood up walked over to me, kneeled down between my feet and offered me a spoonful of whatever that mush was. His hand was shaking slightly, but he was full of bravado.
 
 

    As I waited for the hatch to open, my whole body trembled. We had all been warned. The Merc had told us Richard B. Riddick is extremely dangerous and unpredictable. A murderer, who kills for the sheer joy of killing! Our orders were dead or alive, preferably alive. Which is why I was armed with a hypo that had enough tranq to knock out ten huge men. But the Merc assured me this was not a typical man, and I should have another hypo on hand just in case. Jesus he made him sound like a demented superman, I was considering looking around for some kryptonite just in case... when the hatch opened. Guns leveled on a pilgrim, a child and a considerable man.

    All three looked as if they were shell shocked, as they had just gotten back from a battlefield. There were cuts and bruises all over all of them. Three of the security officers that work for me with ran into the skiff and stuck their guns in the massive man with the shaven head’s face. I moved forward with the needle, his eyes had been shined. I have seen it before when I worked guard in slams. I found it really unsettling.

    He glances around; it looked as if he was calculating his odds, one against eight. The odds did not seem to bother him and his eyes told me he was going to go down fighting even before I noticed his hand go to his waist band for a shiv.

    He glanced to his left at the child who was crying now, begging us to leave him alone. The pilgrim had risen to his feet telling us we did not understand. I looked back at this hulking creature and saw his eyes change. They glassed over, his shoulders slumped, and he bowed his head and raised his arms slowly, giving up. It was as if He had lost all will to live and or fight.

    I moved in quickly and gave him the injection in one of his huge biceps. But he had already given up. My other security people didn’t need to rough him up the way they did, but they were terrified of him. And scared animals tend to attack.  We moved him to Max and chained him in an alcove. He was completely out for the first forty-eight hours. I was afraid I may have O.D.’ed him, but his vitals were strong. He was a strong, but at that moment broken man. I stayed with him the first 2 nights to see if the tranq wore off any.

    Resuming my shift the third night, the pilgrim and child, who turned out to be a little girl, stopped me in the hall. She was in tears and the old man was pleading with me to hear his story. I took them to the commissary sat them down and over a bowl of hot soup I listened to the most horrific story I had ever heard. And how Riddick, The man we were sending back to slam was responsible for saving their lives. They told me of Caroline, Johns, Shazz, Paris and a whole crew of other brave and not so brave people who died on the planet. But the one thing that keeps repeating in my mind the most is how they both agreed the man chained up in Max was no longer a murderer. He was no longer a danger to the human race, the man who we thought we had, had in actuality died on that planet with Caroline. They tried to make me understand that I had to help them break out. I told them I would think about it and get back to them, for them to be patient and wait.

    When I got to my post I found Riddick slumped against the wall, soiled with his own waste, he must have been sick also. The other guards allowed him to stay like that for I do not know how long. My “friends” sensing my anger quickly found something else to do. I gave him a small amount of tranq just to be safe and unchained him. He was much bigger and heaver than I had realized. Taking his cloths off was a chore in its self. I needed help with this guy, and the only other guard I knew that was humane enough to help me clean up a murder was Debbie. I called her on the intercom waking her up, she groused awhile and said she would be down with what I needed.

    She arrived with a pail of warm soapy water and we cleaned him. He was moaning, and twitching in his sleep, as if he were fighting his way back from the drugs I had given him. Once we had him cleaned, and shaved. She stood back her hands on her hips and gave an appraising whistle. “He is a hottie,” she informed me and knelt beside him to run her hand over his large chest. I had to smile.

    Debbie was almost all business and I had never heard her speak about anyone much less a prisoner like that before. “You think so?” I had to razz her just a bit. “Michael, If I thought he could get it up through them drugs you pumped into him, I would do him right here in front of god, and everyone.” She grinned at me, her eyes sparkling. “Give it a shot, he is pretty strong, maybe it can still rise to the occasion.” I said and winked lewdly. Debbie sat there stroking his chest for a bit longer, like she was considering it.  Then stood up and asked about what we were going to cover this masterpiece of human flesh with.

    I went quickly to my quarters and got a loose fitting pair of pants to compensate for the difference in our size, a pair of socks, and a t-shirt. When I got back to max Debbie was sitting on the floor, with Riddick’s head in her lap. She was stroking his forehead like a child and humming some kind of lullaby to him. She looked up at me and smiled almost sadly. “He was crying and screaming in his sleep. Whatever he has lived through is going to leave a big scar on his heart and soul. I feel so bad for him.” I nodded; I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what I had been told, with her already to the point of tears. “Lets get these on him and chain him back up before the tranq wears off.”

    We struggled to get the chains back on him once we did Debbie went to get a new bit, one that had not been fouled. I leaned him back against the wall, in a more comfortable position, as I went to put the blindfold back on  he looked up at me, he looked straight at me and I froze. His eyes were like quick silver, liquid pools of sterling swimming around in a most dizzying way. I just stared back, Feeling my heart beat race. I was scared, he was chained and helpless and I stood there trembling with fear. Then he closed his eyes and I let out the breath I had been holding and sighed. He was getting to me. I have never been a type of man to back away from my fears, but I knew I would not stand a chance if I dared to face this one.

    Debbie returned put the fresh bit in his mouth, and turned to study me. “what?” I snapped at her.
She giggled, a full luscious giggle and put her arm on my shoulder. “You got it bad too huh? “ she stated as she glanced at Riddick. “What are you babbling about?” My temper had risen for no reason I could think of.
“You want to be Mr. Riddick’s love toy just like me.” She giggled then went and sat in the poor unconscious guys lap. “You are a very demented girl, you know that right?” I couldn’t help but smile she had such an angelic look on her face. “And you are a very horny boy, who has the hot for…” she said as she spread her legs and looked at his groin under her. “Him” I rolled my eyes and shook my head no. I had never been attracted to men. Not that homosexual men bother me, I am just not one.

     She started stroking up and down his thighs while watching me. “I got so wet when we were cleaning him up.” She murmured as she run her hands up the inside of her thighs, over her rounded belly and over her large breast. “It got me so horny” Then she unzipped the top part of her jumper and moved it over until one breast popped out, it was heavy and sagged slightly, with a rose colored nipple that was hard. She ran her finger over her nipple and squirmed in his lap a little.

    I moved forward, like I was trapped in a dream. I had never even thought of her as sexy before, yet my body was telling me now in no uncertain terms it found her sexy and we were going to act on it. And If I didn’t, certain parts of me may go A.W.O.L. and act on their own violation. I knelt between Riddick’s legs and leaned into kiss her, she pushed my head down until I had my lips on that perfect nipple and sucked and nipped at it greedily. She pushed me away delicately and stood beside me,

    “Sit in his lap, so I can get at you better.” She murmured as she pulled at the zipper on my pants, and I got the hint. As I stripped down she was working on taking the t-shirt we had put on Riddick off. In her frustration she just ripped it off. I stood there naked, rock hard watching her undressing the man I almost had a hernia dressing a few minutes ago. When I realized the pants were about to meet the same fate as the shirt I moved to help her drag them down to his feet. She pushed me into his lap, he was warm, and it was unnerving sitting naked in a naked mans lap, before I could protest the position, she had already dropped to her knees and had her hot mouth on the head of my cock, twirling her tongue around slowly. I leaned back into the big man and sighed. Her talented mouth was taking any uncomforting thoughts about the situation away.

    She ran her tongue down the length of my shaft and slowly circled one of my sacs, and then licking the other she gently sucked the whole sac in her mouth. I found myself enjoying the feel of velvet covered steel warmth against me as Debbie drove me crazy. Riddick’s breath and heartbeat were slow, and soothing, it felt good to rub my back and shoulder across his immense chest. She moved lower, licking and sucking underneath the sacs, She parted my thighs until her hot wet tongue swirled around my anus tentatively. It sent a shock up my spine. That was a first for me, and I didn’t find it unpleasant at all. I moan my consent, and she licked and twirled and probed my opening with her mouth, slowly she stuck her tongue inside me. Then she would swirl around the opening again then push it as far as she could inside, her rhythm picked up and I found myself moaning and squirming in Riddick’s lap. I wanted more, but I was not sure how much more. I had never even thought of having anyone stick anything there before, and now I wanted more.

    She moved back up to the head of my weeping cock and I moaned at the sudden loss of fullness she had been giving me. But as she engulfed me in her moist mouth she slowly worked her finger in where her tongue had been moments earlier. I pushed away from her invading digits only to find myself fully and completely inside her. Her throat constricted around me in a most distracting way, I found myself not caring what her hand was doing. Slipping in another digit she moaned deeply as I bucked up into the tight heaven of her mouth, her fingers making me feel full as she seemed to be searching for something.

    When she found that gland that made me slam back into her hand, and gasp for air, I swear she giggled, her mouth full of me, she giggled.  I thought I would die right there if she didn’t do something to relieve this torture. She pulled her mouth off me and I whined reaching for her to pull her back to me, she shook off my hands and gave me a few pumps with the hand not busy making me want to scream in pleasure.

    “Kiss him”. She whispers heavily. I was in a fog, I couldn’t think, I wasn’t sure if I heard her right I leaned forward to kiss her, and she brushed her fingers across the spot and held the base of my cock tightly.
“Not me, kiss Riddick, I want to see you kiss him, if I am going to get you off, it is only fair you give me my fantasy.” She was talking quietly but firmly.

    “No, come on” I moaned and reached for her again. She shook me off and inserted another finger in me and held me in place with that firm hand pumping me slowly. I would have done anything at that point to get off. I turned to kiss him; his bottom lip was all I could reach. I sucked on it as she moaned softly and greedily sucked me into her mouth. I came in a shot, screaming hoarsely into his bitted mouth.

    Then Riddick moaned and swallowed hard, he was waking up and I was mortified. Debbie had already zipped back up and was standing at the door holding back a giggle. Her eyes were aglitter with humor at my situation. “Help me get his pants back up,” I hissed at her and she trotted over giggling. The t-shirt was history so he had to go shirtless. We had just finished cleaning up the room and ourselves when he showed his first signs of cognition.

    He rattled his cuffs and turned his head from side to side then he pulled with all his strength at his bonds. Debbie sat down on the bench facing the east and was watching the two other prisoners who were not only excited by what they heard and smelled they were agitated, and rattling their chains also. The Prisoner next to Riddick had a stain spreading across the front of his pants and pulled at his bonds mournfully. Damn it! Now I have to clean him up too.

    I looked back at Riddick. He was sitting there His head tilting and turning like he was using sonar to see what was around him. He came out from under the tranqs in a heartbeat, one second he was out and the next he was sitting there, making his presence felt.

    My heart jumped to my throat and stayed there as I watched him. His face was a mask, until he jumped to his feet and yanked at his cuffs. It was a quick as a snake strike and it took all I had in me not to jump and hit the door. I grabbed at my water container and took a few gulps, as he pulled at his chains harder.
Debbie is looking over my shoulder at him. My mouth is so dry I do not think I can speak, but I am afraid he may hurt himself, plus he is getting the others even more agitated than we had just done. I search for my voice and tell him to sit.

    He turns his head in my direction and just stands there like a statue.  Daring me to say something to him. He was looming, and intimidating, and very sexy. The sexy part was the only thing I found frightening. Debbie elbows me in the back and tilts her head towards him indicating I should do my job. I get up and walk over to him. I study him for a few seconds. I am not sure if he is angry because he was awake at the last part of the little episode or if he is just being stubborn. His chest is heaving with anger or from the exertion from trying to break free, and I reach out and lay my hand over his heart, I wanted to feel it beat. Dismayed that I just touched him, I tried to make it seem like I wanted him to sit.

     I asked him to please sit down. And he just stands there impassive. My fingers can feel his heartbeat and I am becoming aroused. And that is scaring the shit out of me. I do not want to become aroused by a man, any man, much less this big man who looks like he could break me in half with no trouble.  I know after hearing the story and he has plenty of cause for some righteous anger. I know he may not be completely bad but he is a bad ass, who could kill anyone if he had too.

And the Bad-Ass won’t sit down!

Why won’t he just sit his fine ass down?

    I push a little harder on him and ask him to sit again. I even said please and sir. Riddick leaned into me as close as the bonds would let him, which was too damn close, but I couldn’t back away. I couldn’t show that kind of fear; it goes against all my training and instinct.

    It is like he is smelling me, and for a second I think he smells himself on me, and he knows. He is so close I can feel the waves of heat he is emitting, and I think how good it felt rubbing against him. My cock stirs, and I blush from head to toe. I stand there thinking this man, with a bit in his mouth and blindfolded is glaring at me accusingly.

    “Please” I say and gently try to make him sit again. My voice cracked, making me feel even more foolish.
He sat down this time his head bowed. I was worried maybe the tranqs had done more damage than I thought. He still had a presence that filled the room, but he looked small and weak sitting there slumped over like that. I look down and notice the water container that had been in my free hand all the time.

    Why wouldn’t he be weak, he hasn’t eaten in almost 3 days he must be dehydrated and starving. Debbie got up and moved to the door, she was going to get chow, then back to bed if I knew her. I looked at her and winked as she left, but quickly turned back to Riddick. How can I feed him and give him water?

And exactly how much is any mistake going to hurt me?

    I swear he can see through that blindfold because he looks up at me, like he knows what I am thinking. My legs shake, and it pisses me off.

    I will not cave into my fear. I will treat him like any other prisoner. It is not his fault; He was just born that way, big, strong, sexy, able to turn straight guys queer with a single glance. It is not his fault I get hard when I look at him. And it is not his fault that the thought of that scares me so. I am dying, and thinking about it is not making it better.

    “Are you thirsty?” I tried to ask but my throat tightened and it sounded like I barked at him. He tilted his head slightly still looking at me through that blindfold. Ok, maybe he cant see me, he doesn’t know I am talking to him, I feel like a moron.

I step closer and touch his arm so there is no doubt. I feel the muscle ripple under my fingers, which feel like they are being scalded by his body heat. And ask again, this time I cant even talk, just being this close makes my voice shut down and now I am whispering. He remains motionless for what seems like hours, then nods his head yes Very cautiously. My heart is beating fast, and if I could kick my self in the ass I would. I am not going to let my feelings get in the way. He must think I am a child by the way I am acting. I reach up to unhook the bit, and look back down at him. My knee is touching his and it is sending little electric shocks up my spine. I wonder if he will bite me once I remove the bit.  I lean down not trusting my voice again, I whisper and ask him if he bites, almost taunting him, and for the life of me I don’t know why.

He shakes his head no and my lips press against his check as he does. I make no move to pull away, he smells so good. His scent musky through the smell of the soap we had used to clean him up. I tell him I believe him, my lips still pressed against the side of his face. If he is thinking of anything, he is not showing it, he may have well been made of stone.

     I give myself a mental kick pull away and undo his bit. He closes his mouth slowly and his tongue wets his lips before his mouth sets in a firm line. I watch mesmerized wanting to lick his lips as he had just done. I want to press my mouth to his exquisite lips and explore his aperture with my tongue.

    I quickly put away those thoughts and tilt the water to his mouth, he takes one swallow and I watch his throat tighten and contract with the effort of drinking, I am now fully hard, mad, scared, and panicky as a virgin on prom night. I moved away from him back over to the chrome benches in the center of the room. His brow furrowed as I took the water away.

    “I don’t want you to drink to much and get sick. I don’t want to have to clean you up again” I lied to him. All I really wanted was to get my hands back on him.

    He sits there for a while like he is concentrating. And I am getting nervous then he leans back against the wall, rolling his head from side to side the he rolls his chin against his shoulder, he looks so incredibly hot.  He asked me if I had cleaned him up. It was the first time I heard him speak, his voice was a rumble, so sexy, I had to adjust myself. I told him yes and he just “looked in my direction” Which was becoming more than upsetting, the way he looked at me through the blindfold.

     As if he was reading my mind he asked about his goggles. They are on the bench next to me, and I think what the hell, at least I will know where he is looking, and maybe his eyes will help me figure out what he is thinking. So I ask if he wants them. He paused and says yes, and then he said please. He sounded like the word stuck in his mouth and he spat it out like a piece of bad fruit. I laugh, I can’t help it. “God that must have hurt to say. “ I tell him as I walk over to take off that see through blindfold. I put a finger under the side strap of the blindfold and look at him once more, I notice I have been chewing on my bottom lip and it is sensitive and swollen. Great, I bite my top lip so they look the same color and dim the lights.

    Taking off the blindfold Riddick blinks a few times, even these dim lights must hurt his eyes. I step back watching him. He is looking at me, leisurely like he had all the time in the world. He starts at my head and works his way down over my shoulders across my stomach over my hips, to my thighs and slowly down to my feet. Then at the snails pace he has established he moves his eyes up my body. I don’t know what to do so I look him up and down also.

      I was intently looking at the drawstring on the white cotton pants when I felt him look me in the eye, commanding I look back at his eyes. It seemed like an eternity. I was swimming in a silver lake, feeling like I would drown if I held his gaze a second longer. I had to look away. I hated my weakness, and I was beginning to hate him for making me weak.

    I looked down, that’s it I have to get out of here. I cannot stand being this weak and pitiful, I am gone. I start to go when he asked me, in that oh so compelling voice what my name was. I looked up at him, and he was looking at me, his demeanor had changed, he was not looking through me but at me, which was worse than through me. That meant he was interested in what I was going to say.  I manage to choke out my name and he repeated it like he was adding it to his memory, but worse it sounded like he was testing it, to see how it felt in his mouth... to see if he liked it.

     My legs turn into gelatin. I hold his eye. It is the only thing holding me up off the floor.  He tilts his head slightly and asks me if I am all right. He uses my name again, and this time I know if I don’t sit I will fall down. I back up to the bench and tell him I am fine.

    “I can see that” he almost growled. His eyes slid down and then up my body, I could feel them touching me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. I am sure I will cum all over myself if he doesn’t stop looking at me like that.
I have to look away. I pick up what was left of my dinner making little trenches in the soft potatoes. I know I can’t let him get to me, but I want too. I want to move closer. He knows now that he gets me hot, and he will use it against me. I know he will. But it is okay. I had already decided to help him anyway. Maybe I can get something out of the deal too. Maybe he can help me face some fears before he goes. I look up at him, at  his expressionless face and glimmering eyes.

    “Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Yes, Michael, I am.” He says.  His voice arouses me even more.  I know he is repeating my name, because he knows it is making me lightheaded. I go to him kneeling between his feet and raise the spoon to his lips. If I drown in those eyes, so be it. I can think of worse ways to go.