Break My Shell
— He was supposed to never leave prison. And then he was in my bedroom. —
Dayton is always on time to work, always organized, always ready to do overtime. The perfect receptionist-waiter-cleaner. Employee of the month. But Dayton has a secret side to him. A kinky, filthy side full of dark and dangerous fantasies that should never see the light of day.
He explores his taste for submission in one way only. For three years, he’s been writing letters about it to Max. Convicted to life in prison for the murder of three men and unlikely to ever be free, Max is the safest outlet for Dayton’s frustrated fantasies.
Only that he does leave prison. He finds Dayton. And he won’t settle for anything less than what he was promised in the letters. Too bad Dayton is nowhere near ready to indulge Max. Or himself for that matter.
Themes: ex-con, sexual fantasy, role-play, bondage, dirty talk, bullying, hotel setting
Genre: M/M contemporary erotic romance
Length: ~62,000 words (standalone novel)
WARNING: Adult content that might be considered taboo. Explicit content, strong language. Reader discretion advised.
When
Dayton turned on the light, for a moment all thoughts evaporated from his head as he looked down and saw fresh droplets of water in the sink.
Dayton took a deep breath, his mind racing at the thought of someone—Vanessa? Rudy the cleaner?— entering his room without permission. He was the one to keep it clean, so there was no reason for other people to come in uninvited.
His heart beat furiously at the rudeness of it, freezing when the hooks of the shower curtain rattled behind him. He jumped and took a step back, only to walk into the sink, painfully jabbing his hip against the porcelain.
A man filled the whole shower stall with his huge form. His neck was twice as thick as Dayton’s, his shoulders and chest meaty and powerful, but the black ski mask covering his face made all coherent thoughts evaporate from Dayton’s brain.
Blood drained from Dayton’s face, and he took another step back, screaming out even before his legs managed to dash for the door. The invader grabbed him by the back of the neck and closed one meaty palm over his mouth, sealing it with its salty heat. Dayton’s whole body shuddered against the stranger, and he tried to push back, with no effect against the man’s superior strength. Why would this be happening to him? He owned nothing of material value.
Had Greg and his friends gotten bored and said a word too much about Dayton in bad company?
“If you scream again, I’ll cut your tongue out,” whispered a raspy, low voice when the man pressed against Dayton’s back, hauling him out of the bathroom. The man’s Southern accent was so alien to Dayton’s ears it made his mind twist for answers.
Dayton whined into the large hand, curling his shoulders to instinctively protect his head as much as he could. The room spun with colors as he frantically looked for anything that could be used as a weapon. His mind was already rushing with images of his own body turned into a bloodied pulp to be found on the old mattress by his boss. He needed to act fast if he was to get out of this.
Torn between obeying all commands to appease the stranger, and fighting, his body was gradually going into full-on panic mode. There were no guarantees as to the man’s intentions, and each attempt Dayton made to free himself was so easily absorbed by the man’s arms, it felt like struggling against steel.
