Locked Together (In Chains) by Michelle Abbott Page A

now. She’s not smiling though, she looks worried. I frown as the guard steps in between me and Savannah and blocks my view of her. “You will hold that position for the next hour.” I’m not smiling anymore. “If your arms fall even an inch, you’ll earn yourself extra time. I can keep you here all night if I have to.” She opens the door to take the slaves to the cell; Savannah looks back at me as she walks through it. I smile, to let her know it’s gonna be okay, though I’m not sure it is.
    The guard comes back a few minutes later, she puts a chair in front of me and sits down on it, a smug grin on her face. If I have to spend the next two hours looking at her I think I’m gonna puke. I close my eyes and think of Savannah’s beautiful face and it’s like she’s standing right here in front of me and I’m looking into her sparkly eyes that show me everything she’s thinking. I can see her soft, pale skin and her sweet, pink lips. I smile as I imagine those lips wrapped around my cock. Shit no. I need to think of something else, I don’t want to get a boner in front of this bitch. I snap my eyes back open and look down at my junk, there’s no obvious bulge so I’m good. What the hell am I gonna do to amuse myself for the next hour? Maybe I can talk to the guard, it’s better than nothing. “What music do you like?” I ask her.
    “Shut up.” Okay, I guess I won’t talk to her then, fuck her; I don’t give a shit what music she likes anyway. I look around at the kitchen. I wonder what we’re gonna get for dinner tomorrow. I smile, remembering the first time that Savannah cooked for me. That was a mistake, I’m feeling hungry now. Sighing, I try to find something to think about that won’t get me horny or hungry. I can’t see a clock anywhere; I wish I knew how much longer I have to stand here. Maybe I should sing to myself, or maybe I should sing out loud and out of tune, that might get rid of the miserable cow. “Do you find this amusing?” She says. Shit. I didn’t realise I was snickering. “You just earned yourself another thirty minutes.” What? Fuck this shit. Evil fucking bitch. I know I’m glaring at her but I can’t help it. “Your arms moved, get them back up. You’ll now be here for two hours.”
    Bitch. It’s probably not a good idea to sing out loud, I’ll sing silently inside my head. I think back to the songs I’ve heard and close my eyes as the words to ‘Titanium’ float through my brain. It kinda fits how I feel right now. I bounce my head to the imaginary music. Okay that must have killed about five minutes. These buckets are starting to get heavy. I grit my teeth and try to think of another song, one I’ve heard enough times to remember the words. Another five minutes wasted.
    I spend the next God knows how long singing stupid songs that I don’t even like, anything to take my mind off the burning, fucking pain in my arms, shoulders and the top of my back. I look down at the guard, she seems bored. I’ve never hit a woman but I really wanna hit her. I close my eyes and think of the only thing that can take my mind someplace else. Savannah. I imagine her standing behind me, her head resting on my shoulder. She smells of lemons and she’s naked, maybe so am I, I dunno, I’m definitely topless because I can feel her nipples pressing against my back and her nipples are hard. I moan as her soft lips kiss my neck and shiver as she breathes into my ear and tells me she loves me, then she nibbles on my earlobe. She smooths her warm, soft, little hands all the way up from the base of my spine to my shoulders then runs her nails all the way back down again. Oh that feels so good. She strokes her hands over my back again and then uses her fingers to knead the sore muscles in my shoulders, which helps a lot. Her nipples press against my back again but this time she rubs her boobs over my back and whispers in my ear, “We should cover each other in oil and let our bodies