Without warning, Max yanked open the waistband of his baggy shorts, his fingers fumbling with the elastic of his underwear. Before I could protest, he dropped me inside, right onto the warm, slightly damp skin of his groin. The waistband snapped shut, plunging me into darkness. The air was thick, humid, and carried a faint musky scent that made my nonexistent stomach churn. I was trapped, pressed against Max’s skin, the fabric of his underwear tight and unyielding. I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream loud enough for anyone but Max to hear. My voice was muffled against the cotton. I stayed still, knowing any squirming might make this worse.
Outside, I heard the door creak open, followed by Max’s dad’s heavy footsteps. “Max, why’s this door locked?” his dad barked, irritation sharp in his voice. “You know I don’t like that.”
“Sorry, Dad,” Max said, his voice smooth but edged with nerves. He shifted slightly, and I felt the pressure of his movement, the heat intensifying. “I was just… uh, changing.”
“Changing? It’s seven in the morning, and your room’s a pigsty. Pick up these Legos before someone steps on ‘em.” His dad’s voice was gruff, like he was already halfway out the door in his mind. “And where’s that spaceship you were playing with? You left it on the stairs yesterday. Nearly broke my neck.”
“It’s right here!” Max said quickly, patting the bed where the toy spaceship lay. I felt him adjust his stance, probably trying to act casual. The motion jostled me, and I gritted my teeth, or whatever passed for teeth in my weird, numb state. “I’ll clean up, promise.”
“You better. I’m late for work already.” A pause, then his dad’s tone softened slightly. “Also, your uncle’s gonna be here soon to watch you. Be downstairs when he arrives, you hear me, Max?”
“Yeah, yeah, got it,” Max said, his voice a little too eager. I could imagine that sly grin creeping back.
The door clicked shut, and silence followed. Then, Max’s fingers fished into his underwear, grabbing me roughly. He pulled me out, holding me in his palm, my small form slick with the faint sweat of his skin. His eyes gleamed with that wicked delight again as he tilted his head, inspecting me.
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