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  THE FORBIDDEN ROOM

  The Forbidden Room – Book One

  J P Barnaby

  P. O. BOX 462, Griffith, IN 46319

  Http://www.jpbarnaby.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  The Forbidden Room

  Copyright © 2009 J. P. Barnaby Edited by: Valerie Waitt

  Cover photograph: Copyright © 2009 Christopher Helfin Cover model: Casey St. Clair

  All rights reserved. Except for the use of brief quotations in any review or critical article, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented including xerography, photocopying, scanning and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval is forbidden without the prior written permission of:

  J. P. Barnaby,

  P. O. BOX 462, Griffith, IN 46319

  http://www.definatelystaying.com

  Any similarity to actual persons, events, or existing locations is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements:

  To PB for covering her eyes with one hand while she patted me on the back with the other.

  To JJ for loving me for most of my life, and encouraging me every step of the way.

  To PT for teaching me some of life’s most valuable lessons.

  To VF for kicking my ass, for keeping me on track, and for being such a great friend.

  To KP for being so supportive in my quest to become published.

  To LL for being my favorite technical support representative.

  Thank you so much to everyone who believed in me, and in this book – it is because of you that it now has permanence.

  Chapter 1

  The Ad: 26 year old SWM seeking disciplined roommate to split 5 BR house. Utilities included. Male pref. Call for appt.

  I had been looking for a place to live for weeks. As a senior, I needed to be able to concentrate in order to get through my last year, and I couldn’t stand my roommate at the dorm. Ian would bring girls back to the room, scary ones, at all hours and wasn’t shy about what he was doing with them. Now, I was no prude, but I didn’t need to see that while I was trying to write a ten page dissertation. So, in the middle of the semester, when housing was scarce on campus, I moved out and ended up at my sister’s place. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my sister, but I was so sick of being camped out on Kimberly’s couch. Twins or not, hearing her and her husband Josh go at it at all hours of the night hadn’t been fun, especially since I was between girlfriends myself.

  With my shaggy blond hair, almost surfer-like in its casual style, and strong, tall build, I generally didn’t have a problem finding female companionship. The problem was my relationships never really lasted. I kept telling myself that it was because of my single minded focus on school, but somehow I wasn’t entirely sure that was it. I just wasn’t ready to settle down and get serious with a girl. With my choices for grad school on the horizon, I needed to keep my options open.

  So, when I came across the ad on a campus announcement board, I was thrilled. Would I like to share a five bedroom house? Hell yes, I would. I really just wanted to get off my sister’s couch at this point. I picked up my cell phone and dialed the number on the flyer.

  “Bryant.” a terse voice, strong, but pleasant answered on the second ring.

  “Uhm, hi. I saw your flyer posted on campus and was wondering if you’re still looking for a roommate?” I inquired in a rush.

  “I am. What is your name?” he asked in that same smooth tone, but it seemed softer now.

  “Jayden Carter,” I answered, my voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. I suddenly felt shy and awkward for a reason I couldn’t quite identify.

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-two.”

  “Do you drink, smoke, or do any kind of illicit drugs?” he asked dryly.

  “Occasionally at social functions, no, and no,” I replied, trying not to laugh. The questioning went on for a few minutes as he was curious about my employment status; and my post college plans, which I assumed he wanted to know in order to determine my length of stay.

  It was almost like a job interview. But, I guess if someone is going to live in your home with you, you’d want to know more about them. In fact, I’d probably want to know more about the guy in the next bedroom than the guy in the next cubicle. We made arrangements for me to come by his house the next day to tour the property, and fill out a rental application. I couldn’t imagine that I wouldn’t like the house, but I wasn’t too sure about Ethan. From his demeanor on the phone, he appeared to be a little uptight.

  Words nearly failed me as I walked up to the three story house the very next day. My first question to myself was what a single guy with no kids needed with all that space. The perfectly maintained house set off by immaculate landscaping gave the impression of a wealthy family, not a single guy looking for a roommate. Full, dense oaks framed the front porch of the colonial blue home set with a darker dusky trim, it faintly reminded me of a Norman Rockwell painting. It looked warm and inviting; I fell in love with the place almost immediately. I wanted this to be my home.

  Climbing the stairs of the large intricately railed porch, I could see myself sitting in one of the wicker basket chairs with my laptop, writing my next great paper. My nervousness grew exponentially as I raised a hand to ring the bell. Immediately, the door opened onto a well lit foyer, and the man I presumed to be Ethan Bryant stood framed like a Rembrandt in the doorway. I was surprised at myself for thinking the word beautiful at first. I’m not sure many guys I know would call another guy beautiful, but it’s the first word that came to mind.

  He ran a hand through his short mahogany hair as he opened the screen door to admit me. It was as if he was almost reluctant in the gesture. Had I not made a good impression? Nothing in his deep set, unreadable, brown eyes made me think that I was welcome, but I followed him in anyway. With my eyes on his back, I could discern that he was definitely a guy that took care of himself; I could see clearly defined muscles under his fitted t-shirt. I was willing to bet he had a lot of company of the female persuasion. Girls seemed to like that brooding artsy type, and that’s exactly the impression that he gave.

  The initial meeting went well. Ethan seemed to be more comfortable talking in person, and I found myself starting to like him. After agreeing on terms, I was grateful when he decided to allow me to move in right away at a prorated rate for the month. I didn’t want to spend another two weeks with Kimberly and Josh.

  The following weekend, Josh and Ethan helped me move in. Josh had been a linebacker at the University of Southern California before coming back to Seattle and meeting Kim. His short black hair was barely visible over the mattress that he was carrying up the stairs. At six foot four, he was a formidable guy, but thankfully he was also a friendly, jovial guy. There was always a measure of humor dancing in those brown eyes. He and Kimberly made a good match, he kept her grounded. I could have done worse for a soon-to-be brother-in-law.

  The room that I had moved into, along with the converted office next door was perfect in every respect. I loved the earthy tones of the room, the amount of light that filtered in through the oversized windows, and most of all, the quiet solitude. It wasn’t very long at all bef
ore I was settled and feeling at home.

  Within the first few weeks, we had established a routine. Even though he was a doctor at the local county hospital, Ethan worked normal banking hours. I had a more flexible schedule, but occasionally, one of us would cook and invite the other to join. Generally, most nights we kept to ourselves, enjoying the quiet.

  It seemed like the perfect match.

  One thing, however, stuck out in my mind and I just could not get past it. During the tour of the house, Ethan showed me my bedroom and office on the second floor, his bedroom and office were on the third floor. While I loved having so much space, I couldn’t help but wonder about the fifth bedroom at the end of the second floor hallway. When I had asked Ethan about it, he seemed to tense up and told me that the room was off-limits. His tone and mannerism suggested that there was no room for discussion on the matter, so I let it drop. Still, I couldn’t escape the feeling that the door appeared to grow each time I looked at it as I headed to my room. It seemed impossibly large now, or it was just the feature of the hallway that continually drew my attention. I found myself staring at it for minutes at a time before going to bed at night. What could be in there that would make Ethan consider it forbidden? Was he running a meth lab? Was he counterfeiting hundred dollar bills? He appeared to be fairly well-off, and I hoped that the money wasn’t from ill-gotten gains.

  I was worried about what was going on in that room, but I wasn’t sure what to do about my suspicions. Talking to Kimberly was out of the question; she would just barge in and confront Ethan about my concerns. She was bossy, and controlling, and I was sure I’d just find out that it was an art studio or something, and my relationship with Ethan would be out the window. I wasn’t comfortable enough with Ethan to ask him about it more directly than I had, especially since he’d been nothing but hospitable to me since I moved in. As my imagination caused the door to grow infinitesimally each day, I kept my bedroom door cracked open, so I could see if Ethan ever entered that room. He did not, and I decided that he couldn’t be doing anything too horrifying there if he never entered it.

  Then it happened.

  One typical Wednesday night, about six weeks after I moved in, I saw movement in the hallway. My bedroom door was half open, and I watched as Ethan walked with a petite brunette, her head down and her hands by her sides, toward the forbidden door. They didn’t interact in any way, but he opened the door for her and then followed her through. Though it made me feel guilty, I listened intently for a few hours to see if I could get any kind of clue as to what was going on in the room, but I heard absolutely nothing. I found that odd, because while I could generally hear classical music coming from Ethan’s room on the third floor, I could hear nothing coming from just down the hall? Why would they be in there and not speaking, or … Then it hit me, and all of my nervous hesitations came back in full force.

  The room was soundproofed.

  I never saw Ethan, or the girl, come out of the room. It must have been well after midnight when they emerged, after I had fallen asleep. Ethan was at the kitchen table when I came down for breakfast, looking the way he did every morning. Of course, I knew he hadn’t changed in the night, only my perception of him. Knowing that our schedules were opposite today, I found the resolve in myself that I needed to investigate the room. Convincing myself it was only to make sure that I wasn’t being associated with something illegal without my knowledge. Deep down, I knew that it was something more, a puzzle that needed to be solved. It was reverse psychology, by telling me that the room was off-limits, it made me want to enter it that much more. Was he doing this intentionally? Was he playing with me? Maybe there was nothing at all in the room, and it was a test. A test that I knew I would ultimately fail.

  Ethan had been gone for two hours, and I was sitting in my room failing to study for my abnormal psych midterm. I decided that in the interest of being able to concentrate enough to pass this semester, I had to know one way or the other. If he was doing something I couldn’t accept, I could always move back in with Kimberly. It wasn’t an inviting prospect, but it wasn’t like I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and found the determination I needed, and I stood up. I was betraying Ethan’s trust in me by doing this, but I couldn’t just keep ignoring the warning bell in my head when it came to that room. Once in the hallway, I actually checked over my shoulder. I felt like a criminal, just by going down the hall and opening a door. When he’d taken the girl into the room last night, I hadn’t seen him use a key, so it must be unlocked, and I cringed at that thought. He trusted me; that was why he didn’t lock it. If there were truly something horrible going on in that room, wouldn’t he lock the door?

  With mounting trepidation, I reached the end of the hallway. I really didn’t want to do this, but I felt I had no choice if I ever wanted to be able to concentrate on something other than this door again; I needed to know what was behind it. Putting my hand on the knob, I looked over my shoulder once again. Finally, I tried the knob. It turned easily in my hand, and I pushed the door open.

  With a sense of shock and awe, I looked around the tastefully designed room. It was immediately evident that it held different types of bondage equipment. The leather padded tables, chairs, and benches were handsomely designed and placed strategically throughout the room. There was an understated audio and video center on one wall with several cabinets that I assumed held CDs and DVDs. The opposite wall consisted almost entirely of hooks and shelves where other equipment was stored. Just in a cursory glance, I saw handcuffs, paddles, and several candles. A shiver ran through me as I glanced around again. Once I knew it wasn’t anything illegal, I had to get out of here before I was discovered.

  Making sure to eat early, I hid in my room like a child when Ethan came home, not able to face him after what I’d done. I had exposed a private side of Ethan that he never intended for me to discover. To pass the time, and try to distract myself, I reread the essay I would be handing in on Monday. As I was polishing the citation page, a knock sounded on my door. Ethan had never knocked on my door before. He knew. My heart rate increased exponentially, and I began to breathe faster as I got up to open the it. Maybe he just wanted to share dinner? I had to get a hold of myself, and not jump to conclusions. Taking a deep breath, I answered the door.

  Immediately, my eyes went to his and I knew. There was a spark in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before, but his face was expressionless. My eyes fell as the guilt rolled over me, and I knew I was going to have to make it up to him, I just wished I knew how.

  “Follow me,” he said in an even, yet authoritative tone. felt like I had no choice but to let him lead me out of my bedroom. I was surprised when he led me toward the end of the hall and into the room. I had not expected to ever come in here again. Walking back to the far wall, he opened the heavy curtains, letting fading sunlight stream into the room, and then Ethan stood gazing out over the grounds at the rear of the house. I started to become edgy, why didn’t he just get on with it? What was the point in making me wait? Not wanting to risk his ire any more than necessary, I remained quiet and observed him. Finally, he turned around and spoke.

  “I asked you specifically not to come in to this room,” he said slowly, and I nodded. I looked down again, not wanting to see his disapproval. Reaching out tentatively, he lifted my chin with his fingers and looked into my face for an immeasurable period. I don’t know what he found there, but he seemed to come to a decision.

  “It seems that you have a choice to make,” he said finally, and I looked up. “You can either be naked and waiting for me in this room on Saturday at nine am, or you can be out of the house by the end of the month. I will fully refund your deposits, and we will part amicably.” Then, he turned and opened the door. I couldn’t even wrap my mind around the questions I wanted to ask him, and my face must have revealed my shock and terror at his ultimatum, but he said nothing as he passed right by me without another glance. I lumbered numbly back to my room.
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  My eyes never closed that night, and I couldn’t face my Friday class. I stayed in my room contemplating my choice. Am I really considering this? Again, there was no one I could discuss it with. Kimberly would be horrified, and I couldn’t tell any of my friends that my roommate wanted me to become some kind of boy toy. If I was completely honest with myself, I knew that I didn’t want to leave. In the six weeks that I had lived here, this had become my home. Until last night, Ethan had been the perfect roommate, and I didn’t want to give that up. As I allowed myself to think about the other choice, the choice where I stayed and became the boy toy, my cock throbbed. Everything in that room scared the hell out of me, but even if I couldn’t really admit it to myself, it turned me on as well. I couldn’t understand why, I’d had about a dozen girlfriends in my life. A few of those girlfriends had been adventurous, so I’d played the games - the doctor, the teacher, and I even tied a couple of them up – but those games were nothing compared to this. I had never even thought about another guy in a sexual manner. Realizing the dynamic of the relationship I was considering, I wondered if I would even be capable of becoming aroused with a man. What if I couldn’t? I would be humiliated, and then forced to leave. Why couldn’t I have just minded my own fucking business?

  Saturday morning dawned and after coming to a decision late the night before, I had finally slept. To help calm me, I had stayed in the shower longer than really necessary; my nerves were on edge now, wondering what Ethan’s reaction would be. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was a quarter to nine and I wrapped the towel around my waist. Closing my eyes, I took several deep breaths. I didn’t see the need to dress, so at five minutes before nine, I opened my bedroom door and walked down the hall to the room wearing only a thin towel. Ethan wasn’t there yet, as I knew he wouldn’t be. He would make me wait, drawing out my torment, forcing me to stand naked in this room that honestly frightened me. Looking around at the different equipment, I thought of a hundred different ways he could torture me in here. I’m sure he already knew each one.