24
Jan
15

Chance

God-damned frustrating. Nothing to hit back at. No one to focus him anger on. A disembodied voice. Blinking electronic lights. Blackness around.
He wanted to get his hands on someone’s throat. He was busting to kick some sense into some bastard.
But the only presence in this interrogation room .. himself .. caught in a tube of light.
A naked stud forced by this implant into doing as told.

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