CLICK, CLICK, ZIIIIIP. LXIX.- BROKEN CHAIN? ⛓️‍💥

I raised my head and looked at him. For the first time since I had started telling the story, my eyes held something that was neither pain nor submission. They held something like peace. “Don’t be modest, Topsecret, you are all three things,” and I adjusted my crotch because I felt the call of the wild approaching.

“You are the next link,” he said. “Tradition says that the sodomized one must continue the chain. And I have sodomized you. I have had you in my bed, on my cock, in my life. You are mine. And since you are mine, when you had a son-in-law, you would have to do the same thing I did to you, that Alexei did to me, that Sven did to the doctor, that the doctor and Sven did to Alexei, that the first king did to that first anonymous son-in-law a thousand years ago.

But it is true, you are right, you have three sons.

The silence stretched on.

Topsecret turned toward you. He stared at you. And smiled.

“Do you know what the funniest thing about all this is?”

You did not answer. You could not.

“What Angel said, that I have no daughters,” Topsecret said. “So, according to your own rules, it is my turn to choose a male of proven virility.”

He turned to Ángel.

“And I have already chosen him. I have been choosing him for two years. It is you, Ángel. The chain comes back to you. The fucked fucks the fucker. The circle closes.”

Ángel opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out.

Topsecret moved closer, grabbed his jaw with one hand and forced him to look at him.

“So tell me, my God. My Master. Owner of my ass for years. Are you ready for tradition to return the favor? Or do you need me to call ten brutes to subdue you and tie you up in a confessional like they did with Alexei?”

The two men looked at each other in silence. P, from the bed, watched the scene without daring to breathe. A chain a thousand years old. A circle that did not break. And in the middle, two men face to face, deciding whether the chain was still alive or had been closed by what had been lived.

“That’s not how it is,” P said, cutting through the silence of the room.

Topsecret and Ángel turned toward him.

“What do you mean, that’s not how it is?” Topsecret asked, frowning.

P got up from the bed, walked slowly until he stood in front of the two. He looked Topsecret directly in the eyes.

“You have a daughter, Topsecret. I’ve heard you talk about her more than once in private, and you know it well. She’s in her twenties. She lives in Barcelona. And she’s engaged.”

Topsecret opened his mouth. Closed it. For the first time since you had entered the room, he seemed thrown off balance.

“That is none of your business,” he said, but his voice had lost its earlier certainty.

P did not yield. He turned toward Ángel, who was still sitti...