Punished: Prisoner's Dilemma (Gay Erotica‪)‬

When the political rebel Emory Summers is captured by the corrupt regime of the wealthy and powerful August Wolff, Emory thought he would be detained indefinitely. But as Wolff takes particular interest in him, Emory begins to see the cracks in the governor’s façade. Will his submission pay off politically, or will he find himself more entangled with the governor than he ever bargained for? Warning: this 13,500 word erotic novella contains gay sex, rough sex, bondage, flogging, oral sex, whipping, public sex, humiliation, and hot tensions across enemy lines; adults only!

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Excerpt:


“Do I still have your cooperation?”


Wolff’s voice was low and even, but Emory knew that he seethed underneath. Of course he did. Still, he wouldn’t give the man the full satisfaction of his acquiescence. “Only as much as you ever did.”


Wolff refused to be baited by him any longer, though. “Get up,” he said to Emory. “And face the wall.”


It was clear by his tone that he wasn’t messing around. Emory stood and turned toward the wall, his back to Wolff. And when he found the older man’s firm grasp on his shoulders, forcing him downward, he was obligated to drop to his knees onto the cold concrete.


Wolff’s hand was replaced with his boot, solidly planted against Emory’s stooped shoulders. “I wasn’t free to say this to you earlier,” he said. “But when I told you that you would answer to me, I meant that you would submit to me.” His boot pushed Emory crouching just a little lower, pressing his breath from him. “You can make this as… pleasant or unpleasant as you wish, do you see?”


Emory couldn’t struggle against the strength of this man, caught hopelessly between the boot and the wall as he was. “I won’t,” he still muttered. God, his body had been abused but it was still his own.


“Pardon?” A bit more pressure, until his chest was nearly to the floor.


“I won’t,” Emory repeated louder.


A dangerous silence, and then – slam! His chest was crushed to the floor, and he’d barely avoided breaking his nose on the concrete. Above him, Wolff’s voice was still measured. “I told you, it’s in your power to make this highly unpleasant for yourself.”


Not that he had expected any less from this man – nor his entire regime – but the sheer force he exerted to keep hold of his power….  Anyway, Emory was drawing shallower and shallower breaths so he pressed out his answer: “Fine.”


Wolff eased up, just enough that he could breathe once more but not so much that he could actually move. “You’ll call me sir,” he said. “And you’ll kneel whenever I am in the room, until I tell you otherwise. You’ll come to every function at which I need you, and you will behave yourself there, do you understand?” He didn’t wait for Emory’s answer. “I have very… particular needs, Summers, and I believe you will fill them.”