Chapter 70 - Worse Than Hell

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Twisted Moon - Book 3 of the Black Moon series - Chapter 70: Worse Than Hell

⚠️Warning! This chapter contains two parts of non consensual sex. Even if it's not very graphic, please read the summary beneath the usual author note at the end first if you're not comfortable with that.

(Noah's POV - Thur. 16 July 2015)

"Wake up, Boys!! It's time!!"

That high-pitched voice is just unbearable!! I much prefer Cutie's silence! His arms and his warmth as well. I actually wish he could talk too but it seems like our captors drilled the tune deep inside his head and each time I try to speak with him, even if we are alone, fear fills his eyes and he hurries to press his fingers against my lips to shut me up. The only sounds he seems to be capable of are little whimpers and shush noises when he tries to soothe me. I don't want to get us in trouble of course and I am always cautious to whisper very lowly; the point is not even to have real conversations; I would just like to know his name, and maybe his age and how long he has been here. But I still don't know any of that for now.

As Snobbish approaches our cell, we quickly disentangle from each other and Cutie moves to kneel at the foot of the bed since the chain that ties his collar to the headboard is longer than the one that ties my wrists similarly, only allowing me to stay on that side. This is how Snobbish is supposed to find us when he comes here in the morning and as usual, the fairy walks in, wearing another of his awful suits – today we get a pastel blue one that clearly doesn't match with the dark green shirt he is wearing. He is followed by Crewcut and Baldhead. He first frees Cutie from his chain and then removes mine before he gives us permission to eat our bread and drink our glass of water.

And then, this is the same routine as it has been for the last few days. Snobbish and the two gorillas walk away and leave us to our cleaning activities. The first morning they did so, I was a bit dumbfounded that they would leave us alone in the basement, untied and free to move around. Despite Cutie's whimpers, I did try to run upstairs but I obviously found the door locked. I spent some time checking for exits as some cells have larger windows close to the ceiling, but sadly, they are blocked and through their dirtiness, I could still see metal bars that would block our way out. I quickly realized that they were not taking much risk leaving us on our own here and it definitely made me burst into tears that morning.

Cutie came to pick me up from where I was sitting by the staircase and after a long moment of hugging, shushing and soothing, he led me to the torture and cleaning room. They clearly trusted him with teaching me on what our morning routine should be like, exactly as he was probably taught by the so-called Timmy who Andrei mentioned.

I wonder who that Timmy guy is and what has become of him. Did he manage to run away? Did they free him? While this thought gives me a bit of hope that they might eventually get bored with one of their slaves to free him and find another one – despair can make you really stupid – another idea comes to my mind and I suddenly fear he could be dead as well. Well, I had better not dwell on what might have happened to this poor guy so I follow Cutie out of the cell.

We take turns using the restroom, standing outside to give each other a bit of privacy, and go together to the cleaning room a few minutes later. We first brush our teeth at the sink and as silently as ever, we move to the block of showers. Cutie turns on the water tap and pulls me under the spray of water. I don't even try to resist when he starts cleaning my hair and body with gentle moves, knowing that it will be my turn to clean him once he is done.

Trust me that learning how things should work on Sunday without words was kind of awkward. Of course, I wanted to clean my own body, but Cutie softly blocked me and made me understand with his intense eyes that he was to do it, and when he handed me the bottle of shower gel and turned his back to me, I quickly understood that the attention was to be reciprocal.

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