A random chapter

by Hairy Beard   

Restrained in a cellar against his will, Matt tries not to panic as he awaits his fate.

A random chapter from a full-length story, right now in Part IV, unknown chapter number. Would love your feedback.

Matt’s eyes flickered open, his head throbbing, the cold, unforgiving stone beneath him sending chills through his bare skin. He winced as the pain in his muscles reminded him of the unfamiliar strain his body had endured. As his vision cleared, the cold weight around his neck became apparent. His hand shot up instinctively, fingers grazing the rough metal. A collar. Panic surged through him. He bolted upright, only to feel a sharp yank—the collar was attached to a chain, tethering him to the wall.

“What the fuck…?”

His voice echoed hollowly through the room. He scrambled to his feet, the chain clinking with each movement. The room was dim, cold, and unfamiliar. He was naked, his body covered in a dense layer of hair that felt foreign, almost animalistic. He yanked at the chain with all his might, but the collar didn’t budge. The chain was securely bolted to the wall.

“David!” Matt roared, the sound of his own voice both desperate and enraged. “David!”

He pulled harder, his body trembling with the effort. His mind was a fog of confusion and anger. He remembered the session—the steady rhythm of David’s voice, the familiar hypnosis drawing him in. Then the sharp prick of a needle. His heart pounded as the memory returned. He had been drugged—David had injected him.

“Goddamn you, David!” Matt’s voice rang out again, furious, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “You fucking drugged me!”

The realization hit him like a punch. David, the one person he thought he could trust, had crossed the line. This wasn’t part of the deal.

“David!” he screamed again, his voice raw. “What the fuck have you done to me?!”

The door above creaked open, and Matt froze. His eyes snapped to the wooden cellar door at the top of the stairs. Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed as they descended into the room. Each step heightened the tension, until finally, David emerged from the shadows, calm and composed as ever, stepping down into the dungeon like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You bastard,” Matt growled, his voice shaking with fury. “You fucking drugged me and dragged me down here like some animal.”

David stopped at the base of the stairs, his face unreadable, his eyes cold. For a long moment, he just stood there, watching Matt, letting the rage fill the space between them.

“I didn’t drag you anywhere,” David said softly, his voice too calm. “You’re here because this is where you wanted to be.”

“Wanted this?” Matt spat, pulling at the chain again for emphasis. “I didn’t agree to this! You injected me—drugged me! What the hell are you doing?”

David took a slow step forward, his gaze locked onto Matt’s. “You’re not a prisoner, Matt. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

“Bullshit!” Matt snarled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You think this is part of the plan? I trusted you! We had a contract, and this wasn’t in it!”

David’s expression remained calm, but there was an edge to his voice now. “You need to calm down, Matt. You’re safe.”

“Safe?” Matt’s voice cracked with disbelief. “I’m chained in a fucking dungeon, naked! How the hell is that safe?!”

David’s eyes never left Matt’s, his voice dropping lower, more controlled. “You wanted this,” he said quietly. “You just don’t remember.”

Matt’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of the situation. “No,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t ask for this.”

David moved closer, his presence towering over Matt, his voice dropping to that familiar, hypnotic tone that always seemed to strip Matt of resistance. “Breathe, Matt. Relax.”

Against his will, Matt’s body responded. His muscles loosened slightly, the tension in his chest easing just a bit. His mind screamed to fight back, but the pull of David’s voice was too strong, too familiar. His fists unclenched, the rage dulled at the edges, confusion creeping in.

“I didn’t…” Matt began, his voice faltering, weak. “I didn’t want this…”

David stepped in even closer, his hand brushing lightly over Matt’s bare shoulder. “You did, Matt,” he whispered. “You just don’t remember yet.”

Matt’s eyes flicked to the mirror across the room, his reflection glaring back at him—wild, unkempt, barely recognizable. His body, covered in hair, was chained like some caged animal.

“This wasn’t part of the deal!” Matt shouted, his voice trembling with desperation. “You fucking lied to me!”

David’s expression hardened, and without warning, his hand shot out, gripping Matt’s throat with brutal force. The suddenness of it took Matt’s breath away. He gasped, hands flying up to claw at David’s arm, but David’s grip tightened, cutting off his air.

“You don’t get to play the victim now,” David growled, his voice cold, unfeeling. “You’re not some innocent pawn in this.”

Matt’s vision blurred as David yanked him forward, the chain rattling ominously behind him. He tried to speak, to fight back, but his voice was strangled by David’s iron grip.

“You wanted this,” David hissed, his eyes burning with intensity. “You begged me to take control. You needed to be broken.”

With one final shove, David released him, sending Matt crashing back against the stone wall. Matt collapsed, gasping for air, his body trembling with shock. He wanted to fight, to push back, but the truth was sinking in. The memory of the needle in his arm—the way his body had gone slack—came rushing back. He had let David inject him.

“I didn’t…” Matt’s voice was barely audible, weak, trembling.

David stood over him, his expression cold, his voice icy. “You did. You asked for this. And now you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Matt winced as David’s boot connected sharply with his side, pain radiating through his ribs. Another kick followed, harder this time, knocking the breath from his lungs.

“You begged for this, Matt. Don’t fucking lie to yourself now,” David snarled, kicking him again. “You wanted me to take everything from you.”

Matt’s body shook with each blow, but his mind was spinning. The memory of the sessions, the words he had written down, the things he had asked for in the deepest moments of their work together—it all began to surface. The collar. The chains. The need to be stripped of everything.

David crouched down, grabbing a fistful of Matt’s hair, forcing him to look up. “You don’t get to pretend you didn’t want this. You’re mine, and you’ve always known it.”

Tears blurred Matt’s vision as David’s words dug in deep. His body trembled, pain radiating through him, but the truth was undeniable. He had asked for this, even if he hadn’t fully understood what it meant.

“I… I don’t remember…” Matt whispered, his voice breaking.

David released him with a rough shove, standing tall. “You’ll remember soon enough,” he said coldly. “And when you do, you’ll understand.”

Matt lay there, broken, the cold stone beneath him seeping into his bones. He had allowed David to take everything from him. He just didn’t remember it.

Not yet.

Suddenly, David’s voice pierced the silence, loud and commanding. “Grunt, motherfucker!”

Without delay, Matt obeyed, a deep, guttural sound ripping from his throat. The grunt was full of desperation and instinct, as if his body was compelled to respond without thought. He felt it surge through him—he meant it. His muscles tensed, his chest heaved, and the raw sound filled the room.

“Again!” David barked, his tone more demanding, his presence overwhelming.

Matt grunted again, this time with even more force, the sound ripping through him with an intensity that left him breathless. The meaning behind it was undeniable—he was Fucker. It was the only response he could give, the only truth that existed in this moment. He was trapped between fear and arousal, both tugging at him, leaving him vulnerable, exposed, and completely his.

David chuckled, a low, satisfied sound, then turned and walked away, leaving Matt on the floor, his head spinning. The fear of his automatic response mingled with the undeniable arousal coursing through him. He was turned on by it, by the fact that he had no choice but to obey. His body knew what to do without question, without hesitation.

His head swirled with the conflicting emotions—was he afraid? Was he grateful? He didn’t know. But the response had come from somewhere deep inside him, something primal, something he couldn’t deny.

It was the only response there ever could be.

The cold seeped into Matt’s bones as David’s footsteps echoed up the stairs, the cellar door closing with a resounding thud. Silence settled in the room, the only sound the ragged draw of his breath. He lay still, naked on the stone floor, the collar around his neck a cruel reminder of his captivity. Yet something unexpected stirred within him—something that caught him off guard.

He shifted slightly, testing the chain that tethered him to the wall, his muscles aching with each movement. But as his fingers brushed against the rough collar, a shiver ran through him, not from the cold this time, but from something deeper. His breath hitched as the sensation of the metal biting into his skin registered in a new way—a sensation that sent a surge of warmth down his spine.

What the fuck is happening?

Matt’s body tensed, but not in fear or anger this time. His chest rose and fell quickly, the heaviness of the collar suddenly intoxicating. He shifted again, his bare skin rubbing against the stone floor, and a warmth bloomed in his gut—startling, foreign. He fought it, pushing the feeling down, but his pulse quickened, and his mind spun in confused circles.

Why am I feeling this?

His eyes darted to the chain, the sound of its soft clink suddenly more pronounced in the silence. The tether that held him bound to the wall, a symbol of his captivity, now pulsed with a strange allure. His heart pounded in his chest, blood rushing to his ears. The image of David standing over him, calm and in control, flooded his mind, and a low, involuntary moan slipped from his lips before he could stop it.

No… no, this isn’t right…

Matt clenched his jaw, his fists balling as he fought the sensation creeping over him, but every shift of his body seemed to amplify it. His hands trembled as he pulled at the chain again, testing it, and with each tug, he felt his body respond—not with frustration or rage, but with a slow, building heat that burned at his core.

The sudden realization that he was turned on—here, in this dungeon, naked, and chained—made his heart race even faster. He had no control, and yet, the very fact of that loss of control was setting his body ablaze in ways he never expected. His thoughts became disjointed, fragments of desire clashing with his growing fear, and a wave of shame washed over him.

“Fuck…” Matt breathed, his voice trembling.

He turned his head, his eyes locking onto the mirror across the room. His reflection stared back at him—wild, disheveled, his body covered in a thick layer of hair. The animalistic look should have disgusted him, but instead, his pulse quickened, and he felt the tightness in his chest deepen. His body looked foreign, almost primal, and that only added to the unexpected thrill coursing through him.

He tore his gaze from the mirror, trying to shake the sensation, but it clung to him, growing stronger with each passing second. His mind raced back to the moment David had stood over him, that cold, commanding presence towering over him like an immovable force. Matt had raged, screamed, but even then, beneath the anger, beneath the confusion, a part of him had…wanted it.

A soft groan escaped his lips, and he cursed himself for the reaction. He hated this, didn’t he? He should. But the weight of the collar, the cold stone, the feeling of being utterly trapped—it was igniting something inside him that he couldn’t deny.

His fingers trailed down his chest, hesitant, as if testing the waters of this new, unwanted sensation. Each brush against his skin sent sparks through his body, the primal need growing, twisting inside him. His breath quickened as he reached his stomach, the heat between his legs becoming impossible to ignore.

What’s happening to me?

Matt’s mind screamed at him to stop, to fight this, but his body had other plans. He let his hand drift lower, and the sensation surged through him like a wave, his breath catching in his throat. He tried to steady himself, tried to focus on the anger, the betrayal—but it was fading. The edges of his fury dulled, replaced by a deep, pulsing arousal that made him shudder.

The thought of David standing above him, so calm, so in control, kept creeping back into his mind, and each time it did, his body responded in kind. He pictured the intensity in David’s eyes, the way his hands had gripped his throat, the force behind every calculated move—and against his will, the memory thrilled him.

Matt’s back arched slightly, his body betraying him completely now. He was lost in the heat, his breath shallow as his mind drifted further into the space where desire and fear blurred together. He was supposed to be furious, outraged, but all he felt was the pull—an overwhelming, undeniable pull.

And then, just as his hand began to drift lower still, the door creaked open again. Matt froze.

The sound of footsteps descending the stairs broke through the haze of his mind, snapping him back to the present moment. His body tensed, the chain rattling softly as his muscles coiled in a mix of fear and arousal. His heart pounded in his chest as the familiar figure of David stepped down into the dungeon, his eyes calm, unreadable, as he made his way toward Matt once more.

David stopped a few feet away, watching Matt in silence for a long moment. His presence was as commanding as ever, his gaze piercing through the dim light of the room. And even now, even as Matt’s mind screamed at him to resist, his body responded—heat flooding his core, shame mixing with desire in a dizzying swirl.

David’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile as he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Matt’s. “I see you’re starting to understand,” he said softly, his voice low, dripping with control.

Matt’s throat tightened. He wanted to scream, to demand an explanation, to lash out—but his body betrayed him, his skin tingling with a need he didn’t want to acknowledge.

David crouched down beside him, his voice a whisper now, intimate, dangerous. “You feel it, don’t you? The control… the surrender.”

Matt’s breath hitched, his mind spiraling, caught between the fear of what was happening and the undeniable pull that David’s words seemed to have over him. He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper as he forced out, “What… have you done to me?”

David’s smile deepened, his fingers brushing against the collar, sending another shiver down Matt’s spine. “I haven’t done anything,” he murmured. “This is all you, Matt. You’ve wanted this from the beginning. You just didn’t know it.”

Matt’s body trembled under David’s touch, his heart pounding in his chest. The shame, the fear, the arousal—it was all too much. He was trapped in a web of his own making, and there was no escape.

Not from this.

And not from himself.

Again, David’s smile twisted, and without warning, he barked, “Grunt, motherfucker!”

Matt’s body reacted without hesitation, just as it had before. The deep, guttural grunt ripped from his throat, raw and primal, reverberating through the dungeon. He felt the weight of the sound fill the space around him, the force of his obedience undeniable. The intensity of the command—and his response—shocked him to his core. Again, David had snapped the command at him, and again, he had obeyed without a second thought.

David’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Again,” he commanded, his voice dark, authoritative.

Without hesitation, Matt grunted again, the sound even deeper this time, filled with more force, more urgency. His body responded automatically, no delay, no second-guessing. The grunt that tore through him now was not just a response—it was an acceptance. He could feel it in his bones, the truth of who he was, settling in deeper than before.

David chuckled, the low, amused sound filling the room, and with that, he turned and ascended the stairs, leaving Matt alone on the floor, his head spinning from the weight of what had just happened.

Again. Yet again.

Matt lay there, his body still trembling, the echoes of his obedience ringing in his ears. His mind swirled with a conflicting mix of fear and intense arousal. The fact that his body had responded so easily, so instinctively, terrified him—but it also thrilled him in ways he couldn’t deny. The truth was inescapable now.

He was more aroused than ever, his body electrified by the realization that his response—the grunt, the submission—was the only response there ever could be.

David had said his name was Fucker. Nothing else.

And with every grunt, every command, Matt knew that was all he was.

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