Page 6 of Reforging Onyx

Dominic sighed. “Onyx, come here." He held his hand out toward Onyx.

Onyx gave another quick shake of his head, his jaw setting stubbornly. No. No, he wasn’t letting himself be punished for trying to escape Dominic’s inescapable grasp. Not without a fight.

Dominic pursed his lips. “I see.” Crossing to the bed, he picked up the wrist-and-thumb cuffs that had been left there and walked toward Onyx. “Give me your hands,” he said, his voice going cold.

Onyx watched Dominic, some of the fight turning into wariness as he watched him get the cuffs. He didn’t like the sight of them, didn’t like the memory of how helpless they’d made him feel.

But more than that, he found that he didn’t like the coldness in Dominic’s voice. “Dominic…” he began, his voice uncertain.

“I said, give me your hands,” Dominic repeated, holding out his hand when he reached Onyx and waiting.

This was not what he’d expected when he’d refused to let himself be spanked like some child. Maybe Dominic would let it go if he did this. Or maybe this was going to be worse. It might be a worse consequence than it would’ve been. But now he didn’t know if he could go back and take the spanking instead of what he didn’t know how to anticipate.

At least with a spanking, he’d known what to expect. Not so with this.

“Okay,” Onyx whispered, the fight draining out of him all at once. “I’ll go to the desk.”

“No.” When Onyx didn’t offer his hand, Dominic grabbed it and started buckling the cuffs onto his wrists and thumbs while Onyx fidgeted without outright fighting him. Once the cuffs were buckled into place, Dominic gestured at the crate. “Get in.”

Onyx licked his lips, almost wishing Dominic had forced the issue instead of going cold like this. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he went to the crate, getting in quietly.

Dominic nodded, closing and locking the door behind him.

Onyx tensed when Dominic started to utter the words to a spell, then he yelped when everything went dark. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t…

“Dominic?” he called out uncertainly, squirming. “Dominic, I’m…”

He couldn’t say he was sorry, because he wasn’t. He wasn’t sorry for refusing, for getting defiant — for showing the fucking flames that Dominic had claimed to want — but he did regret not going along with it.

Moments passed without feedback from the outside of the crate, and he was trapped in that magical darkness, that lack of sensation, that lack of everything.

“I’ll do it. Okay?” His voice was shaking. “Please?”

Nothing.

Onyx tested the cuffs around his hands, but there was nothing he could do about them. “Dominic!” he pleaded. “Dominic, please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

And he was.

Mostly.

No, if this was what the price was going to be, he was sorry.

Time passed.

How much, he didn’t know, but he kept trying to call out for Dominic. It reminded him of the time during the knotting, when he’d called out to him for help even though Dominic’s machinations were responsible for all of this.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Tears streaked down Onyx’s face. It felt like all he’d done during the last day was cry, and he hated it, and he hated Dominic, and he hated that he hadn’t just taken the spanking — the devil he knew — instead of making things worse for himself.

He was sobbing by the time the darkness lifted and the crate opened.

“Shh.” Dominic reached out for Onyx, his tone strangely soothing. How could it be, when Dominic was responsible for making him feel this way to begin with? It didn’t make sense. “Come here.”