The pride of the Brookside Broncos, right? Gay sex “I’d remember a pussy bitch like you!”A smile breaks across Lucas’s face. He fetches me drinks and food, does my laundry when he does his, cooks me meals, among other stuff. Too. I’d enjoyed those years the most. Anyway, I’m a hypnotherapist.”I snort, which would be a lot more effective if I could roll my eyes, and say, “So you, what, hypnotized me?” I do nothing to mask my sarcasm, letting it drip from every word. “More like…reprogrammed.”“You’re out of your mind. No form of communication about this will work at all. Groveling and begging. “I. I thank him for that, allowing him to remain under the impression that things are going to be fine, and pick up my boxers. “Adam?” Lucas’s small voice picks up again when I start to pull them up. Why don’t you go ahead and get hard for me?” There’s no way. Nothing. It takes me until I’m almost finished eating—longer than I would like to be in this humiliating position, but it takes a while to eat something I neither hate nor like—to realize that Lucas meant what he said literally. Without question or complaint. “And I…I am sorry if I made you feel like I was taking advantage of you.” Yes, good.
