*Adults only * 18+

It only took a few minutes to reposition him on his front, with his knees and wrists bound this time. I’d lowered the bench so he was kneeling on the floor, his erect c**k jutting below. His cheek lay against the padded leather as he tested his wrist bindings. The purple mask was still in place because his face looked beautiful with it on and because I wanted him to concentrate on the different sensations produced by each implement.

I was confident that he liked this position. He seemed more relaxed and able to accommodate the indignity of being bound. 

“Let’s get down to business.” I tapped the skin of his buttock with the tip of the crop, harder than before. “I’m going to ask you some questions and I want you to try to answer them honestly. If you don’t like a question, you can pass. Okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” he said obediently.

I mean, this entire weekend was essentially a first date, so I wanted to know things.

“Where did you grow up?” I asked, snapping the crop against his ass.

He cried out but answered. “Toronto. Sir.”

“Downtown Toronto? Or the suburbs?” I said, hitting him on the other cheek.

He gasped. “Suburbs. Big house. Three sisters.”

Ah, that explained some of it. I ran the tip of the crop into his cleft. He moaned.

“Are your parents together?”

“Divorced…when I was eight. Why are we talking about my parents?” he asked.

“Sorry. Never mind. Forget them. They’re irrelevant.”

He laughed, then gasped as I struck him again. “I like that, Sir.”

“I like that you like it.” I gave him a final strike, then laid the crop down on the love seat and picked up another. This one was green and had a smaller tip, so it would sting a bit more where the last one had had more of a thwunk. “This is my second crop purchase. My sub wanted something a little sharper.” I slapped his buttock with it and he moaned.

“What do you think? Better than the other one or not as good?”

“Better,” he said, panting and squirming. 

I slapped his ass with it a few more times, then reached underneath and palmed his c**k, which was hard and wet at the tip.

“Mmm-hmm. You do like that one.”

He thrust into my hand, groaning. He would have come if I’d let him. I took my hand away.

“Not yet, sweetheart. We still have three more to sample.”

He whimpered in a most delicious way. I worked him over with the green crop for a little longer, then switched to the red one. This one was similar to the first and dealt a heavier, less-stingy impact. I already knew he liked it and his sounds indicated he was enjoying himself. 

Then I picked up the quirt. “This is my fourth purchase,” I said, gliding the knotted end along Vincent’s back and over his pinking buttocks. 

He shuddered and groaned, pulling on his bindings. “Oh f**k,” he muttered.

I grinned. “Yeah, this one’s gonna hurt more than the others. The sting is pretty severe.”

He struggled like he wanted to escape. 

I checked in. “Do you want to try it? I can hold off on this and the cat for now.”

He settled down. I ran the end of the quirt over the line of his body again. He liked that, so I kept doing it until he told me to go ahead.

“Good boy. You’re very brave.”

“I’m going to—” I gasped just before my c**k overflowed.

Domingo slid off me, quite elegantly for someone with an unexpected load of spend in his mouth—although I supposed he’d been somewhat ready. He let the milky fluid spill down his chin, as if he’d drunk a jug of milk too quickly, then wrapped his fingers around me to stroke me through my culmination, his eyes like firebrands.

Then Captain Martin was there, bending down and guiding Domingo’s mouth to his, kissing him hard, licking my seed from Domingo’s lips and chin whilst I watched in a dazed and depleted state.

I drifted in a comfortable haze, watching Dinesh and Domingo as they embraced with passion before me. Domingo melted like a cherished bride against Captain Martin, succumbing to him, either in sincere thrall, or very well-acted forbearance. The captain devoured him with his kisses, glancing at me as if wanting to enjoy us both in any way he could.

My desire returned quickly, watching the two of them together.

I stepped out of my boots and breeches and leaned against the mantel of the small fireplace, in which a low fire burned. I wrapped my arms around my chest and watched while Captain Martin sucked two fingers into his mouth, then slid them down the crack of Domingo’s shapely arse as he held him still in his embrace.

Domingo gasped as Dinesh breached him, going up on his toes against the taller man and letting his face slide to the side as he gazed at me with intensity and hunger.

“Won’t your right-hand man deign to f**k me?” Domingo asked in a voice roughened by passion.

“He will if I tell him to,” Captain Martin said.

“And will you?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, wonderful. Let’s have some fun, Dinesh. I haven’t been properly ravished in ages.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Captain Martin murmured.

“I said properly. I’ve been disappointed quite enough, thank you.”

I was focused on not acting like a star-struck innocent, which I most assuredly was not. However, the sense of professionalism and experience that Domingo exuded was intimidating. He appeared an expert in his field.

“Rooster, has the cat got your goddamned tongue?” Captain Martin asked, pumping his fingers in and out of Domingo with undisguised delight and enthusiasm. “Normally I can’t get you to shut up unless I gag you.”

Well, that did it.

“I beg your pardon, Captain,” I said, straightening up and scowling at his audacity. “I’m in the process of recovering from a masterly suck, I’ll have you know. And there isn’t much to say now, is there? Unless you want a blow-by-blow account of my experience as a side piece to you and this beautiful molly who hordes a bevy of secrets in his lovely brown eyes.”

But the captain grinned and nodded.

“There he is. That’s the cocky rooster I’ve grown to love.”

Atticus obediently got off the bench and went to his knees. Then he dropped to his side

and rolled over, gazing at me upside down out of his pup hood, his hands drawn up and his knees bent. His tongue lolled out, and he panted with excitement, his eyes bright and eager.

It might have been the most adorable and sexy thing I’d ever seen.

It was obviously a submissive position, and I appreciated his dedication to, and enjoyment

of, my dominance. It also gave me an idea.

“Hmm. Can I fit my fat c**k into that muzzle?”

Atticus’ whole body jerked. He let out a happy bark and nodded his head with vigor.

“Excellent. Up you get. On your knees.”

Immediately, Atticus—Mischief—righted himself and reared up before me, his leather

muzzle at the perfect height for what I wanted.

“Good boy,” I said and reached out to pat him on the head, between his perky leather ears.

Those f**king eyes, staring at me adoringly out of the mask, were going to be my undoing.

There was something incredibly alluring about a man in a mask, and this pup hood was

something else. I’d not realized how hot it would be to have a half-naked leather-pup at my heel.

I was painfully hard, and it was a relief to fumble at my belt and open my fly. I gave my

C**k a couple of pulls, maybe showing off a little. I wasn’t above average in length, but I was

thick, and I saw those puppy eyes go wide. He made a sound low in his throat, and I waved my

d**k in his face. 

“If you’re a very good pup and suck my d**k the way I like it, I’ll give you a reward.”

He moved forward, bumping the head of my c**k with his ‘nose’.

I guided it into the opening and into his mouth.

It was a little awkward, but the hoods were designed for this kind of access. Once I was in

position, Atticus went to town.

It felt amazing, as it always did, to be sucked off by a submissive man. I gazed down on

Atticus, marvelling at the sight of my c**k disappearing into the leather muzzle and hearing him

slurp and gag on it. He was giving it a hundred percent, and I expected no less.

“Good boy,” I panted. “Good doggy,” I said, breathless and really f**king turned on by

this new dynamic. “Now stay still while I f**k your face.”

I cupped the back of his head and shoved my c**k down his throat, the sounds he made

adding to my arousal. His eyes were closed, fingers gripping his thighs, as I thrust my c**k in

and out of him.

I was careful, as always, but rough as well, since most men in the kink scene liked it that

way. I felt a momentary pang of regret that I couldn’t grab a fistful of Atticus’ hair. Then my

gaze locked on his perky little ears.

I wrapped my fingers around one and clutched it, holding him still.

“Oh f**k yes. Oh Jesus. So good.”

I was getting close, and I needed to stop or I’d come down his f**king throat.

“Stop. That’s enough,” I said, letting go and stepping back.

He followed, moved forward, as if to swallow me down again, like he was in a trance. But

he settled down on his heels, blinking and gazing at me with that dazed, subby look I knew so

well.

F**k yes. I tucked my c**k away, with some difficulty, and did up my pants.

He reached for my hand and pulled me along behind him.  

Once in his rooms, he told me to strip, whilst he gathered a few different lengths of his prized red rope and tossed them onto the bed, the sight of which provoked an instant response in me. 

I wondered what he had in mind.

“I can tell you are trying to outfox me. But you cannot," he said.

“I only want to prepare myself for whatever depraved idea has taken hold of you.”

“Then know this: I plan to wrap you in the rope like a treasured gift to myself. A fairly simple undertaking that will make you look absolutely scandalous and keep you in a state of helpless anticipation.”

“So, pretty much the usual,” I said.

“Yes. Pretty much the usual,” he agreed. “Now stand still and put your arms behind your back.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

I obeyed, becoming more and more ignited as he went about his quiet and deliberate work.

The pressure of the rope as he looped the soft material over my limbs and wrapped the length around my belly and torso, made a kind of brassiere around my pectoral muscles. Taut enough to constrain and push up the flesh, but not so tight as to impede my breathing.

“What did you say this was called?” I asked, gazing down at myself in rapture.

“Hojojutsu.”

“Hojo-what-su?”

“Hojojutsu,” he said, more slowly, careful to maintain his focus on the task. 

“Huh.”

“It’s a creation of the Japanese. For tying up prisoners.”

“Oh…my.”

He picked up a smaller length of rope and made a harness around my bollocks and the base of my pr**k, a technique he’d used before to keep me in a state of solidity and readiness as he teased me past the point of sanity. When he had me trussed up to his liking, he gave my c**k a couple of careless tugs and nodded to the bed. 

“Up you go.”

I cocked my head. “Uh…I’m wrapped like a Sunday roast. How am I supposed to get there?”

“I would suggest quite carefully,” he said, leaning back against the table and crossing his arms over his chest.

I narrowed my eyes. “You only want to watch me struggle.”

“Hmm, what a perceptive observation,” he said. “Get on the bloody bed.”

“For f**k’s sake.” I huffed a breath, then turned and attempted to climb onto the bed with my arms and hands restrained. The task was humiliating in the extreme. I misjudged when I brought my other knee up and fell forward into the mattress, onto my face.

“Goddam bugger,” I mumbled into the blankets.

“We must work on your form, I fear,” Captain Martin said, clicking his tongue as I struggled to right myself. “I’d order you to be silent, but your mutterings are as amusing as your attempts at obedience.”

“Those are so great,” he said in a soft voice when I finished. “Can we do some more?”

I looked at him. He stared at me and I fancied I did see something this time, something that made my heart stop and my c**k even harder. “Sure,” I said, looking into his brown eyes.

He backed up in front of me, holding my gaze and slowly removing his jacket. Suddenly the shy, apologetic young man was gone and this was much, much better. 

“Why don’t you take some shots of me on that chaise?” he said, gesturing towards it. His black t-shirt outlined the muscles of his chest and arms superbly. He smiled, but his gaze was scorching.

F**k. Me.

I didn’t say anything.

I walked over to the chaise and dragged it noisily over the floor until it sat before the blue background. I went directly to the tripod and began making adjustments. 

“Sit down,” I said shortly, trying to contain my excitement.

He sat on the chaise and leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs. “Like this?”

I nodded and started shooting. F**k, f**k, f**k. He was staring at the camera with the most intense, heated look. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could control myself. But I wanted to try something. 

“Okay, now lean back against the side of it with your hands behind your head and put one foot on the seat.”

He smiled and did as directed. Jesus Christ, he looked hot. I could barely work the camera. He could see how agitated I was. And I’m sure my hard-on was pretty obvious. He let me take a few shots and then he said, very quietly, “Why don’t you come over here?”

I swallowed and froze, staring down at the camera. Then I looked up at him. He was still in position but he stared at me with a challenge in his gaze. My nervousness made me hesitate. 

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

He grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you want to do.” He leaned back even further, offering himself to me. “I’ve been hard for you since I got here yesterday.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I moved forward until I stood over him. I looked him over hungrily, letting the anticipation build, letting him wonder what I would do. Then I dropped to my knees and in moments had his jeans unbuttoned and freed his erection. There was no underwear to get in the way. We both gasped. I wrapped my hand around him, enjoying the sensation of holding a hot, hard c**k in my hand that wasn’t my own.

The eyeless mask went from the top of Gideon’s forehead, swooped over his diminutive and perked nose, and descended to the tops of his cheeks. Two silver wings arched outward over his cheekbones, and delicate chains hung, curtainlike, beside Gideon’s perfect mouth and dangled past his chin.

“Now he’s ready.”

“Yes, Vihaal,” I agreed, my words breathy and light.

Vihaal placed his index finger beneath Gideon’s jaw and tipped his face up, so that the fine chains draped to the sides and he could give his supplicant a gentle kiss on his upturned lips.

Gideon sighed.

“Now, my beautiful slut, a spanking over my knee seems like a good idea, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Vihaal,” Gideon whispered, as he was led over to the settee.

I watched, entranced, as they got into position.

Vihaal sat and patted his lap. In one smooth movement, Gideon kneeled on the settee and bent himself over Vihaal’s lap, supporting himself on his elbows on the cushion. The frilly edge of the bolero jacket rode up to his waist, revealing his plump and perfect ass.

“What a pretty bottom you have, Deo. So smooth and soft. Isn’t it a pretty ass, Angel?”

“Yes, Vihaal. So pretty,” I breathed. It was like watching a performance, a very sexy one, that was just for me, and for them. I gave my c**k a couple of pulls then put my hands on my thighs again.

“Perfect for spanking,” Vihaal said, although he continued to caress Gideon’s bottom, while Gideon squirmed and sighed, trying to find a comfortable position.

Vihaal raised his gaze to mine and the intensity in his eyes made my balls ache.

“Do you think this naughty boy deserves a spanking, Angel?” Vihaal asked, his voice low and husky.

“Of course he does,” I responded, forgetting the formal response in the moment.

Vihaal’s eyebrows shot up and he quirked the corner of his mouth.

“And why do you say that?” Vihaal asked, stroking the smooth globes of Gideon’s behind.

I shuddered a breath. “Because he knew I wouldn’t be able to resist this. And now I’m caught up in something that’s going to…leave a mark on me.”

Vihaal smiled fully now. “Oh, I certainly hope so. But you’re right. He’s put you in a very awkward situation, to be sure.”

I sat there, watching Vihaal play with his sexy pet, the beating of my heart a frenetic soundtrack.

“Nonetheless, spanking Gideon when he’s wearing the cage and plugged up good and tight is one of my favorite things. Because Deo loves a good spanking. In fact, when he isn’t caged, he’ll often come from it. Isn’t that right, Deo?” Vihaal asked, sweeping a hand up Gideon’s face over the blind to move his hair out of the way.

“Yes, Vihaal.”

“And that’s one of your favorite things, isn’t it, my darling? Coming from a good, over-the-knee spanking?”

“Yes, Vihaal,” Gideon said. He moved his head as if trying to see out of the solid mask, sounding resigned and sad instead of excited.

“But, you see, Angel, when he has the c**k cage on his pretty little pe**s, he’s prevented from it. And for someone like me, with a sadistic, cruel, and vengeful side, that fact makes this all the more enjoyable.”

“Put it on, little piggy,” he said, and warmth suffused my whole body—a mix of shame, embarrassment and sudden, massive arousal that took me by surprise. My hands shook as I pulled it over my head. The rubber smelled plasticky but not terribly unpleasant. The inside of the half-mask was soft and smooth against my skin.

I waited for Aiden to tell me how wonderful I looked in my piggy hood, but he wasn’t even looking at me. Instead, he was throwing things onto the bed:

Pink leather cuffs. A black spreader bar. A black butt plug corkscrew tail.

My beating heart filled my ears, and the heat from the blood rising all over my body made me dizzy.

“Get up here, piggy,” he said, slapping the surface of the bed. “All fours. Now.”

Oooh, this was a new Aiden, not the soft, benevolent Dom I’d gotten used to. This was something else. And this new Aiden excited me, at the same time that my heart was in my throat, wondering what was about to happen.

Aiden slapped my ass.

I made a sound that was half gasp, half moan.

“Squeal. You’re a pig, not a person.”

Oh my God.

I tried to wrap my head around it. I wanted to do it, but I couldn’t make my throat work.

“Hmm. Maybe you need direct motivation.”

He wrapped the soft leather cuffs around my ankles and buckled me into the spreader bar. The clang of metal on metal made everything so real.

“Such a bad piggy. Can’t even squeal for me,” Aiden sighed.

I thought again about letting out a little piggy squeal, but I didn’t think I could do it well enough and it would only sound ridiculous. I wanted to please Aiden, but this was so hard. I was filled with conflicting emotions and frustration at not being able to do what he wanted of me.

Cold lube dripped down my ass crack, and I had an inkling what was coming. The black corkscrew tail flashed into my brain, and I made a strange sound as my c**k surged and jerked. But it wasn’t quite a squeal.

“Piggy needs a tail, doesn’t he?” Aiden murmured.

Yes, yes, he does. Piggy needs something to get him to squeal, because Fletcher is having a really hard time with that request.

The rubber of the tail-plug pressed against my hole as Aiden made clicking noises with his tongue.

“Here, piggy, piggy. Open up for your swirly, curly tail,” he said, pushing the lubed plug into me.

I stuttered my breath and tried to relax as the plug spread me apart.

“Squeal, piggy!” Aiden barked as he pressed the plug relentlessly forward.

And I did it. I let out an actual, honest-to-goodness, sounds-like-a-scared-little-piggy squeal as Aiden pressed the tail-plug home.

“There you go,” he said, lodging it in place as my whole body blushed with shame. “Do it again.”

I made the same noise, a little louder this time, euphoria filling me. I wasn’t embarrassed. I was actually quite proud of the noise I’d made. And it felt so liberating. Aiden’s satisfaction was all that mattered.

“That’s my good little piggy,” Aiden murmured, making my heart melt and my c**k twitch as he rocked my piggy plug to seat it properly. “Such a good piggy.”

He slapped my ass again, and I felt my squiggly tail wobble, which created a reverberation through my body. I squealed again, and Aiden laughed.

“Oh, such a happy, happy piggy,” he crooned, and I went to heaven.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

He blinked, then laughed. “You know, I don’t know if a sub has ever asked me that before.”

“Huh.”

“Or cared, frankly,” he admitted. “Do you know how stunning you are?”

“Even like this? With the tears and the snot?”

“Especially like this.”

I squinted at him.

“That’s kind of f**ked up,” I said.

“Oh, I know. I’m hoping we can be kind of f**ked up together,” he said, motioning me closer. “Let’s get these off.”

Alastair helped me out of my bloomers and stockings and peeled the panties the rest of the way off, leaving the corset and robe. Then he stood and took my hand, leading me to the vanity. The stool made a scraping sound on the wood floor as he pulled it farther out and laid the bloomers flat over it.

It felt strange to be only naked from the waist down.

“Sit.”

I stared at the stool. I mean, thank God it had a cushion.

“I…”

“Yeah, it’s gonna hurt. But I want you to do it.”

I took a deep breath. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Well, that helped. I carefully sat my sore ass down, not without a wince and a whimper.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, sounding more curious than concerned. And kind of excited.

Beautiful, adorable, pervert.

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Good. That will add to the experience.”

The experience of what? Was he going to do my makeup?

He went to his knees in front of me.

“Oh,” I said, staring at him and realizing again how f**king attractive he was, especially with flushed cheeks, his curls disheveled and that devilish goatee. He gazed at me for a moment, then placed his palms on my knees. He took a deep breath and slid his hands along my thighs until they landed at my waist where the corset hugged me close, eyeing my standing, leaking c**k.

“Oh, f**k,” I said. Then my eyes went wide. “Sorry, Sir. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything. He was staring at my c**k like he wanted it so bad it hurt.

“Toby?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“I’m going to suck your pretty c**k.”

Okay, then.

“Okay.” It sounded like a sigh.

“But I want you to keep your eyes open and watch the mirror. Don’t look away. I want you to see yourself come undone,” he said, his voice low, measured and hypnotic. “Can you do that for me?”

“I think so, Sir,” I said. I gripped the edge of the stool and my heart pounded.

“Good."

As Vihaal unzipped the fly of Gideon’s pale jeans, silver flashed in the lamplight. When the jeans were pulled down to his thighs, they revealed Gideon’s c**k trapped in a metal cage that curved in a gentle arc, keeping him in a state of semi-hardness.

“Fuck…” I whispered, as my c**k throbbed.

Vihaal turned to me and frowned.

“Sorry, Vihaal,” I breathed.

“Never seen a c**k cage before?"

A c**k cage? “Not to my knowledge, Vihaal."

I liked the look of the shiny metal and I liked the way it kept Gideon from getting hard.

“It keeps him from satisfying himself, because his org**ms belong to me."

His org**ms belong to me. Holy shit.

Beyond that, it seemed a piece of kinky jewelry that enhanced Gideon’s beauty and mystery, and the bold nature of his sexuality.

Vihaal cupped Gideon’s c**k in its metal trap.

“What a pretty little c**k, my Deo. My captive pet.” Vihaal glanced at me before leaning forward and kissing Gideon sweetly on the lips.

Gideon whimpered and opened his mouth to receive Vihaal’s tongue.

My c**k throbbed at the sight.

I shifted in the chair. Sitting straight and still was an exercise in obedience and I wouldn’t pretend otherwise. I wanted to change position. I really wanted to flip the chair around again and straddle it, because that would be the most comfortable way to watch. But that might mean the end of all of this, and I didn’t want to risk it. Plus, I had no idea what Vihaal might do if I so blatantly disobeyed him. A tiny part of me wanted to find out, but a larger, more sensible part of me, told me not to push his boundaries just yet.

As Vihaal worshipped Gideon’s mouth and kissed his cheek and the shell of his ear, Gideon glanced over.

I inhaled sharply as a wave of arousal hit me so hard I thought I might come. Already. After being in this room for ten minutes.

Gideon’s lips moved. Vihaal nodded and gave a soft laugh.

“Turn around,” he said, and it wasn’t to me.

Gideon spun around.

“Bend over.”

As Gideon folded himself smoothly at the waist, his hands braced against his knees, a flat black piece of rubber became visible between his ass cheeks.

“My good boy,” Vihaal crooned, flicking a finger against it.

Noah chose that moment to slip one arm behind my neck and climb onto my lap. I gasped as his hip brushed against my hard-on, and he gave me a sweet, hungry smile.

“Hello, beautiful,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close. Noah felt heavenly in my arms, warm and slippery, and I knew Luke had no issue with it. That Luke had, in fact, demanded this intimacy.

Noah hid his head in my neck, soft tongue coming out to lick and taste.

“Oh, Jesus,” I said.

“He’s sweet like honey, that one. He’ll kill you with his charm,” Luke said, voice low and deep.

I didn’t doubt Luke’s assertion. Noah was killing me now. My cock ached with want but my heart melted in my chest.

“I want to kiss you,” Noah whispered in my ear. “Ask Luke if I can.”

I moaned as my eyes flitted to Luke. His arm moved as he stroked himself underwater, heavy-lidded eyes on us.

I wasn’t sure I could actually speak. I cleared my throat. “Noah wants me to ask you something.”

Luke’s gaze locked on Noah. “What, sweetheart? What do you want?”

Noah turned his head to gaze at Luke. “I want to kiss him. Can I kiss him?”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Your sweet lips will blow his head off. Go on.”

Noah puffed out a laugh and ran his left hand to cup my jaw, turning my face. He gazed into my eyes, conveying such genuine affection and desire I couldn’t help but lean forward and press my lips against his. He gasped and opened his mouth, sliding against me with eagerness as we sank into a tender, exploring kiss.

“Oh God, you two look amazing,” Luke moaned. “F**king perfect. My cowboy and his pony. I’m gonna come watching you.”

I glanced his way. Luke’s mouth was open, his eyes half lidded as he watched us, arm moving slowly and evenly. I moved my hand down Noah’s body until I found his full c**k.

“Oh God,” Noah moaned. “Oh God.”

“What’s he doing?” Luke panted.

“He’s touching me.” Noah sighed.

“Where?” Luke asked on a small moan.

“You know where.”

Luke laughed and I smiled. 

“Is your pr**k hard, Noah?” Luke asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you like Jensen touching your d**k?” he added.

“Yes.” Noah closed his eyes. A loud groan came out of his mouth as he thrust into my grasp.

“Do you like the feel of Noah’s c**k, Jensen?”

I hissed. “God, yes. He’s so sweet and hard, and I want to make him come. Like I did this morning.”

I froze suddenly and so did Noah. 

“Shit,” Noah breathed.

God, I was an idiot.

“Uh,” I muttered. “Um…”

“What?” Luke said. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” I murmured. “I want to make him come.”

“Don’t you dare. Not till I say so.”

“Lorraine made him help,” Noah said, turning to face Luke. “In the arena today.”

The tip of his finger breached me. I whimpered and pushed back against him. He  sank his finger in deep and fluttered his tongue on my perineum.

"Oh f**k! F**k! F**k!" I yelled as I came in violent spasms, my body riding a wave of chaotic ecstasy.

He waited until I'd turned into a wet noodle before saying primly, "Well, that was unexpected."

I blinked and tried to breathe. What? What!

"I told you I was gonna come!" I shouted, except it sounded like a dying gasp.

"I thought it was only dirty talk," Alastair confessed.

“You thought… You thought…” I couldn’t scramble enough brain cells together to finish the sentence.

“I can’t believe you came hands free,” he said with amazement. “I thought that only happened in porn.”

I couldn’t believe he was still talking. I was floating, drifting on clouds of bliss and afterglow.

“Shhh. Shhh,” I said.

“What?”

“Quiet, please. I’m enjoying the aftereffects of your very skillful rim job. Don’t blow it.”

We realized what I’d said at the same time and started laughing.

“Can I get up now?” I asked.

“Let me help you." 

He pulled me to standing. I swayed, dizzy from the reorientation as my body came down from my orgasm.

He bent to pull my panties up, but I stopped him with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean, really, what’s the point? Might as well take them off,” I said.

He smiled. My gaze landed on the outline of his massive erection under the dress pants.

“Ooh, you poor thing,” I murmured. 

He saw where I was looking and blushed. “Yeah, well, that was pretty f**king hot, Toby.” He glanced at the carpet under the desk, and so did I. A decent-sized bubble of milky spl**ge sat primly on the paisley carpet.

“I’m going to clean that up,” Alastair said.

“That was your fault. I said I was gonna come.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It was definitely worth the mess.”

Alastair cleaned up my sp**k with a bit of tissue then used a wet towel to wipe the spot, as I watched with fascination and amusement.

“You are such a gentleman. No wonder you’re so popular.”

He laughed and threw the towel into the bathroom. “Here… Come sit on the bed, and I’ll get these things off for you.”

Such a gentleman. And such a goddamn w**re when he had me naked in front of him. The perfect combination, really. No, no, don’t think that way. This is only one night. It’s perfect for one night.

"I feel like I'm on fire. I need to spend so bad."

"Well, you ain't allowed to. This is what you wanted."

Oscar made a pitiful noise, like he regretted everything he'd asked of me. Except I knew he was in that space that made him feel floaty and safe and alive, e'en though 'twas its own kind of torture.

"You say your word if you need to. Otherwise, I'm gonna play with you some more and f**k you again."

We went on like that for another two hours, as I played with him, using the brush handle to f**k him when I couldn’t, and to slap those pretty cheeks so they stayed nice and pink. I gave him sips of water from a small cup every now and then.

After I spent inside him for the fifth time—yeah, the fifth time—I decided I couldn’t do it no more. “Goddammit, I’m done. I think you’ve killed me. I’m gonna go into the parlor and have a nap on the settee.”

Oscar made a desperate noise that sounded like he was choking.

“No, I’m only joshin’. You wanna spend?”

“Oh gawd, oh gawd. I need to… I need to so much. Please. Please, Jimmy!”

I picked up the hairbrush, what was still oiled up, and slid the handle into his ass again. After all of that f**king and with so much oil and spend inside him, Oscar was as loose and slippery as an eel. He made beautiful sounds as I f**ked him with the brush handle, and I couldn’t help but smile.

I put some more oil into my hand and rubbed it o’er my fingers, then wrapped them around his c**k where it lay bent backward against the sheets.

“Mmm, you look so pretty. I reckon this won’t take long.”

Oscar gasped and made a tortured sound. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” 

I stroked his c**k back and forth and saw his muscles clench around the handle of the brush.

“You spend now, like my good boy.”

Oscar protested, “No. No.” as if he was scared at the pleasure that was rising inside him, but I kept on. He grunted and protested until a great cry ripped out of his throat, and he spent in hot spurts o’er my palm. He went rigid and spasmed in his ropes, riding the pleasure for long moments until he sighed and dissolved like jelly into the mattress.