I stroke the cold metal links as I wait, watching a watery sun rise over the city’s broken skyline. I would’ve preferred rope as part of my armoury – more flexible, lighter to carry, especially when you’ve been on your feet for two days straight – but that had already been allocated, so you just have to make the best of what you’re given. My stomach rumbles, but I resist the urge to unwrap my last protein bar. Physical hunger doesn’t bother me so much, nor thirst; the appetite I’m really aching to satisfy is the one that has my cock swelling, aching to bury itself in a hot mouth or the tight crevice of a welcoming arse. I thought I’d prepared myself for whatever the game could throw at me, but the one thing no one ever told me was just how horny I’d get. It’s my own fault, I suppose; when Wade was taken while I crouched in my hiding place in the bushes, a matter of metres away, I should have resisted the urge to watch. Though it still surprises me that Wade went down with so little of a fight.
