Excplicit Content 18+

I kissed him hard and thrust my tongue in his willing mouth, then let him go and pulled away, moving out from under him and sliding off the bed. I walked around, admiring how he was placed, spread and waiting for me.

“I need to remember how this looks,” I said. “This bar sure is a handy thing.”

Oscar rubbed his forehead against the sheets as his hips swayed.

“I reckon I could probably make somethin’ like this that we could use back home.”

“Oh God,” Oscar moaned.

I got up behind him and kneeled on the mattress, with my calves o’er the bar to keep Oscar still.

“’Twouldn’t be quite this nice, maybe, but ’twould work about the same.”

I grabbed the bottle of oil that Trick had given us and dribbled some o’er Oscar’s exposed hole, as he made the most delicious noises. Then I spread some on my c**k and lined myself up.

Oscar grunted as I breached him, then keened as I pushed in. He felt so warm and tight, and my eyes rolled back in my head. I had to stop for a second to keep control of myself.

“You like that?”

“Oh. God. More.”

“You need to wait. I gotta be ready.”

“Jimmy!”

“So impatient. Such a needy boy,” I said, pushing in a fraction of an inch at a time, eliciting whimpers and tortured cries.

“Please! I need it so bad. So, so bad.”

“I know you do—and you’ll get it. But only when I’m ready.”

“Oh fuck. Oh God.”

I gave a few shallow thrusts, to tease him, then I couldn’t wait anymore. I pushed in all the way in one smooth glide, and Oscar about swallowed his tongue. There was a ragged gasp and a groan, and I thought he might have spent, but I quick found his c**k with my hand and he hadn’t…not yet.

“Oh,” he moaned, panting and crying out as I plowed him.

I held his sweet ass, keeping his cheeks spread with my thumbs, and went at him slow and deep, as the sounds of our coupling echoed off the whitewashed walls of our cozy room.

“F**k me. Hard,” Oscar said through clenched teeth as I played with his c**k.

“Who’s in charge, Oscar?”

“Oh f**k. You, Jimmy. You’re in charge.”

“Then, you gonna ask me nice?”

“Please f**k me. I need it hard and quick. I wanna spend. Please.”

“Hmm, I reckon you’ve been a good boy. I suppose you need a reward.”

“Oh, please. Please.”

I quickened my pace and rammed him. I was close…so close.

“You want it? You want my spend inside you?” I panted.

“Give it me. I want it. Please!”

That last plea, in Oscar’s choked and desperate voice, was what did it. I sank deep and stilled, emptying into him, my eyes squeezed shut and my mouth wide at the intensity of it. I tightened my fingers on his c**k as it pulsed with the pinnacle of his pleasure, and hot spend gushed o’er my knuckles.

We stayed that way for several moments, stunned with the powerful cataclysm of our joining. As I came down from it, breathing hard like I’d run a mile, I became aware of a dull ache in my side—the echo of my injury. But I didn’t give a good goddamn about that. I stayed where I was, enveloped in Oscar’s body, till after what seemed a long time my c**k shrank and slipped out of him, followed by a trickle of my spend.

I dipped my finger in it and pushed it back inside him.

“You keep it all, now,” I whispered. “Clench that fine ass and keep my spend inside you.”

Oscar whimpered. He’d collapsed onto the sheets when we’d spent. His ass was still pink from the cropping, and he looked so debauched and pretty I couldn’t take it. I unbuckled the spreader bar and tossed it aside. Then I cozied in beside him on the bed.

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.”

I stared straight ahead and watched myself in the gold-framed mirror. My cheeks were flushed, glistening from the tears, and my kohl-rimmed eyes were wide with sudden anticipation. I hadn’t expected him to go down on me. The spanking had been strange and exciting and f**king painful, and my throbbing ass was a sexy reminder of it, but I didn’t know what to think about this.

Alastair moved forward, sliding his head into my lap as I watched the reflection in the mirror. His tongue slid up the bottom of my c**k and swiped the bubble of moisture from the tip, as my mouth opened on a gasp. Then he did it again.

I tried not to look down at the top of his head, but it was hard. Instead, I focused on the mirror. Watching the wide-eyed femme-boy in the reflection gave me a strange feeling of being simultaneously outside of my body and within it.

He glanced at my c**k, then met my gaze.

“May I?”

“I…um. Please.”

Yes, yes, yes.

He braced my thighs with one arm and held my erection in his other hand as he bent to

engulf me between those pillowy lips.

The warmth of him, the slickness of his tongue as he lapped at my arching c**k, sent me

into paroxysms of desire. The sounds I made were rude and rough, showing him how much I was enjoying this. I was paralyzed, as if he’d put invisible manacles around my wrists and ankles. I wanted to arch my back and shove my c**k down his throat, but I stayed supine, wracked with

erotic agony. Instead of panicking me, the forced immobility inflamed me, and I groaned and

whimpered as he showed what he could do.

He was experienced, that was certain. He had me in quite the state.

“Oh my God. You’re better than…”

He popped off my c**k and gave a sharp laugh with an edge of something else.

“But of course. I’ve been around—and around— much longer than Louis.” He fluttered

his fingers. “Also not as discriminating.”

Perhaps it was an insult, but it didn’t matter, because he bent to my swollen rod and I

gaped at the mouldings on the plastered ceiling of my flat, choking on air.

“Mmm, delectable,” he murmured, teasing me with the tip of his tongue, all along the

bottom of my c**k and down to my testicles, his breath hot on my wet skin.

I happened to glance down and saw, without a doubt, the flash of a white fang beneath

those sensual lips, and some part of me recognized what he was, and how badly I had misjudged the situation.

He must have seen the panic in my expression now. Suddenly, his face loomed above

mine, his tousled hair like an angel’s halo. He soothed me with a kind smile.

“Shhh. It’s okay. I’ll tell you before I take a bite.”

A tranquility descended over me, like a soft cozy blanket or a draft of whiskey. I tried to

move, and found that I could.

“Turn over,” he said.

“What?”

“Turn over. Or I’ll turn you myself.”

His words were rough, his voice harsh, but his expression was soft and I marvelled again

at the beauty of his face. Whether he was angel or devil, I was his.

I did as he’d bid me, aware of his hungry gaze on my body.

“Did Louis touch you here,” Lestat asked, running a finger over my buttock and into the

crease of my backside.

“Yes.” My voice sounded faint and far away. Sparks lit me all over from his touch.

“He’s thorough, my Louis.”

I turned back to him, splaying my hand against his smooth throat and tilting his head back, so he was looking me in the eyes.

“I’m gonna teach you to show some respect, that’s what,” I said, then kissed him on the mouth, hard and possessive, while I slid my fingers down his chest and belly and slowly unbuttoned his trousers.

“Shit,” he whispered, his breaths coming even quicker. “Okay.”

I chuckled at the way he just gave in. But he was gonna find this challenging, I had no doubt.

When I reached into his clean drawers and wrapped my hand around his erection, scrunching the fabric down so’s he wouldn’t soil it, he made a gasping noise.

“Shhh-h. You are gonna have to be quiet so I can have my way with you. I ain’t gonna gag you, boy, ’cause that would be too damn easy.”

He whimpered and thrust into my grasp, raising his hand to hold my arm as he swayed. “F**k, Jimmy. That’s gonna be so hard.”

I grinned against his neck as I kissed and licked him there. “Yeah, I know. You’re so hard, ain’t you? So hard, but still so small in my hand that I nearly can’t stand it.”

Like I said before, he wasn’t actually that small and he knew it. But he liked to pretend I was the real man with the real big c**k, and he was something else, so I indulged him.

“F**k,” he cursed, as I let go of his c**k and moved my hand around to cup his ass cheek and slide my fingers between, pushing at his sweet hole. “Goddammit, Jimmy.”

“Don’t you swear at me, Oscar Yates. You keep that pretty mouth shut, unless I tell you to open it so’s I can stick my c**k in it. Mayhap that’ll keep you quiet.” I whispered those wicked things in his ear and licked at the lobe as he damn near fainted with obvious desire. “Now I don’t wanna hear another word outta you. I want you to take them trousers and underthings off and fold ’em neatly on the chair. Then I want you to lie down on this here bed and spread your legs for me. And I want to watch you play with your little c**k for a bit. Nod if you understand me.”

His breath caught in his throat as he nodded frantically, his mouth open, eyes wild and full of need. I stepped back to give him space.

T’was hard to keep a hold of myself, but I was determined to, because dragging this out and making him behave was gonna make for a fun distraction.

And when I finally got inside him, he was damn near gonna go crazy trying to keep quiet. And I sure as hell wanted to see that.

Now that we were in a safe place, with a bit of privacy behind locked doors, I was planning to take my damn time enjoying him and driving him mad in the process.

He kicked off his boots and took off his socks, putting them neatly under the chair. Then he stripped off his trousers and underthings while I watched and tried to be silent, even though I felt like cursing because he was so damn beautiful. Instead, I crossed my arms and waited silently, as if I had nothing better to do and that seeing him strip wasn’t affecting me at all.

He kept glancing at me as if he wasn’t sure of himself like he usually was—like I’d given him something t’think about, now that I’d told him he couldn’t talk or make a noise. He was probably wondering how he was gonna do that and realizing about now how challenging it would be. I had found a way to control him and feed into his wanting, while keeping the noise to a minimum. At least, that was my plan.

I hooked a finger with Aiden’s as we walked.

“Do you want me to do a whole preparation thing before we go tonight?”

Aiden glanced at me with a twinkle in his eye. Then leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“Are you asking if I want you to douche?”

“Yes,” I said, a light blush hitting my cheeks. It had been a long time since I’d prepared this way.

“Hmm. Good idea,” he said. “Or even a proper enema.”

He glanced at me, and I stopped walking. Daniel and I had never gone that far.

“Um…” I said.

“I can help you.”

I looked at him.

He continued. “I have all the gear at my place.”

“Wow. You are full of surprises.”

Aiden shrugged. “I did two years of nursing school before deciding it wasn’t the career I wanted.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I decided if I was going to be paid very little for a lot of effort I’d at least get two months off over the summer.”

*****

Twinkle lights surrounded the huge windows, which were draped with sheers, and the Turkish rug and humble furniture gave the place a casual, bohemian vibe.

When we were done, he told me to stay there while he disappeared into his bedroom. I gripped the edges of my chair, wondering how embarrassing this procedure was going to be. I’d never had an enema. But I had looked up some very kinky videos on the internet, so I kind of knew what was involved, and how such an act of tender caretaking could be sexy. But I was nervous. It was such an intimate thing to share with someone.

Aiden took something into the bathroom, and I heard water running. He came out again after a few minutes and went back to the bedroom, holding what I assumed was the enema bag.

“All right. I’m ready for you. Come on.”

I got up and made my way to the bedroom.

There were towels laid down on the bed and an IV pole standing beside it. Aiden hung the enema bag on a hook and glanced over.

“I need your bottom half to be bare. It’s up to you if you want to be completely naked or to keep your shirt on…”

“Huh,” I said, “My upper half is not what I’m worrying about right now.

I stared at the steel IV pole with the enema bag full of water hanging there, the tube held closed with a clamp and the nozzle looking particularly foreboding. I’d had a lot of things in my ass but never something so utilitarian. The little applicator on the douches barely counted, although that was closest.

“Nice setup. Very professional.”

“There’s even a plastic sheet under the towels…just in case.”

My face reddened. “Oh my God.”

I happened to pass Kamal on my way downstairs.

“Are you in the grooming barn this afternoon?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m just getting something to eat. I’ll head over there soon.”

He smiled. “Good. Planning a special treat for you. I hope your camera battery is charged.”

Oh my f**k.

He chuckled as he went on his way.

I grabbed a sandwich in the cafeteria and ate it quickly, then washed my hands and headed upstairs for my equipment.

A short time later, I stepped into the grooming barn and closed the door behind me.

I had miscalculated and, even with eager anticipation for this session, I wasn’t early enough to see the ponyboys come around the partition. The three young men were already standing naked under hot water, their wrists bound above, c**ks caged, gags placed, with the stable hands doing their work. I stopped dead, mouth going dry, gaze immediately captured by the slimmest ponyboy bound between the other two.

Puck was facing the other way, but I would recognize that sweet plum of an ass anywhere. My mouth pooled with saliva as I watched Liv rub the loofa aggressively over Puck’s back and buttocks as if she were a prison warden—rough and pragmatic. From his little grunts of pleasure, I could tell he was enjoying himself.

She noticed me and smiled. “Oliver. You’d better get your stuff out. We’ll be done soon.”

“Sure. Sorry I’m late.”

I fumbled with my gear as my gaze kept returning to delicious Puck under the shower. Finally, I slotted the Canon into the holder on my tripod.

The very moment I looked at the viewer to make sure the camera was aimed properly, Puck turned his head, his gaze pinning me with an energy I tried to decipher. It was the old Puck, the one who seemed angry at everything, gazing at me with his chin held high, his short hair plastered to his head, the ball gag spreading that beautiful mouth.

All the breath left my body as my d**k jerked in my shorts, and I recalled feeling those lips around me that very morning.

I lifted my gaze from the viewer and met Puck’s angry stare with a similar force. I wasn’t backing down. I knew this was either a way he responded instinctively to submission, or a personal quirk that made those moments of sweetness even more valuable.

He turned his gaze away as Liv ran the loofah over the rest of his body. Perhaps he was embarrassed to have me see him like this. But he knew I would have to photograph him in the grooming barn and the stables as part of the agreement I had made with Adam. Hopefully, it wouldn’t alter the affection growing between us. But I couldn’t worry about that. I had a job to do.

I focused on the other two ponyboys, although it was torture to ignore Puck, especially with water coursing over his pale skin and the way he looked while bound to the ceiling of the grooming barn by his slim wrists. I got close-ups of other bare arms and legs, caged c**ks and wrists in bondage, all while my heart pounded and memories of my morning encounter with Puck cycled through my brain.

“All right, Puck darling, let’s get you outfitted,” Liv said.

I lifted my gaze from the viewer and watched as Liv released Puck’s captive arms and led him to stand by the table. She glanced at the whiteboard and did a double take.

“Hmm.”

I glanced at the board, found Puck’s name and drifted my gaze over Kamal’s written instructions: “Basic plus rope halter (red) and tail (black)”.

I blinked hard and felt my c**k swell as I recalled Kamal’s words to me this morning.

Holy f**king hell.

Vincent struggled in the stocks as Daphne and I moved behind him. He was decidedly stuck, though, and couldn’t even turn his head. His chest rose and fell with excitement and frustration. I knew his d**k was hard in his jeans.

“Are you hard, my slutty prince?” I asked.

“Yes,” he whined. “So hard.”

“Let’s see.” I slipped a hand below him to cup his jeans where his erection pressed against them. “Oh yes.”

Vincent moaned.

I glanced at Daphne, who stood off to the side with her arms crossed and her eyes on Vincent.

“Let’s see, shall we?” I undid the button on his jeans and eased the zipper down, then slid my hand inside and palmed his d**k while Vincent struggled to stay quiet and still.

“Ooh, yes, my baby is hard as hell already.” I pulled my hand away and eased his jeans down over his ass so they rested mid-thigh. The rich burgundy of the lace popped against his pale skin, and I took a sharp breath.

I turned to Daphne. “Have you ever seen anything so pretty?”

“Goodness, no. Nothing compares to Vincent’s ass in pretty panties.”

I smiled and leaned down to kiss his lace-covered bottom. “No. Nothing does compare,” I said. 

I stepped back and slapped Vincent hard on one butt-cheek then the other.

Vincent gasped. Frustration manifested in the parts of his body not restrained by the wooden device. He shifted his feet and wriggled as Daphne and I took turns slapping his ass and laughing.

Then I told Daphne to pull the boy-shorts down and tuck them under Vincent’s testicles.

“Mmm. He looks delicious, Nic,” she said.

“Yep. A feast for the eyes,” I said, touching him at the top of his crack and running my finger between his cheeks, nudging against that vulnerable opening but not breaching it, as Vincent made desperate noises. I tickled his hole and stepped back.

“That’s enough for today,” I said. “Can you get him dressed, Daf, while I go upstairs and check on something? You can release him.”

“Of course.”

I went up and grabbed the mail from the mat where it had dropped. I was expecting a letter from the university updating my RRSP information, but it hadn’t arrived yet. I’d have to call HR this week.

When I returned downstairs, Vincent was still captive, and Daphne was leaning down to chastise him while she held her hand for him to lick.

“What happened?” I said, walking down the stairs.

Daphne laughed but shook her head. “Well, Nic, as soon as I started trying to put his erection back in his pants, your boy came all over my hands.”

“Vincent!” I said, walking over to Daphne. Vincent’s pink tongue moved over her fingers more quickly, as if to make up for this embarrassment. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Vincent tongued the last bit of sp**k from Daphne’s fingers and licked his lips. “I’m so sorry, Sir, Mistress. I couldn’t help it.”

I crossed my arms and looked at Daphne. “Let him out. He honestly can’t help it sometimes. I didn’t think this would do it, but…”

Daphne released the clasp on the device and opened it. Vincent carefully stood, then sank to his knees at my feet. “Please forgive me, Sir.”

I ruffled his hair again. Honestly, what was I going to do with him? I couldn’t even put him in a cock-cage because he’d simply have a wet dream in the night and wake up distressed.

“It’s okay. I never actually forbade him, mainly because I had no idea that would be needed.”

“May I speak, Sir?”

“Yes, Vincent.”

“Mistress’s hands are so…soft and small,” Vincent murmured, then shuddered. “And she’s used them in…so many merciless ways on me. I think my body just remembered all the times she—”

I held up my hand. “Fine. That’s enough. I get it.” I levelled a glance at Daphne. “Don’t touch his penis again.”

“But you told me to—” she protested, grinning at the absurdity of it all.

“I won’t make that mistake again,” I said with mock gravity, winking at her and grinning at Vincent, who smiled.

“Now hold on a minute, I got no interest in a woman, no matter how pretty you got her dressed—”

At that moment, they swung the girl toward me. She almost tripped o’er herself as she posed in front of me, her made-up face hidden coyly behind a large fan. Before I could process any of this, the girl spoke in a strangely familiar but not-familiar voice.

“Awe, shucks, a big man like you prob’ly got somethin’ extra nice for a pretty girl like me.”

She batted her darkened eyelashes at me and I almost fainted.

That voice…

The fan lowered and I almost had a heart attack, because staring at me out of that made-up face was a very familiar expression.

I squinted my eyes and backed up a step. “Oscar? What in tarnation are you wearin’?”

Cal giggled as Trick cursed and said, “Jesus, that were so good, Cal! You did Oscar up so good. Jimmy ain’t never knew who t’was till just now!”

I stared at Cal then at Trick, both of them pleased as punch at their joke.

Oscar dropped his fan and stepped back, putting his hands on his hips and sashaying like he was born to it, while I gaped and examined him.

The black peignoir with gold embroidery was open in the front and spread wide by his stance. He had on a black, boned corset, that pushed his chest up like Cal had worn that first night. And he had a pair of frilly, white, women’s bloomers on, and stockings, and a pair of men’s boots. He was dressed exactly as Cal liked to be, as I’d secretly imagined, and I had to say, he looked pretty darn good in them clothes.

I’d always thought Oscar seemed like something in between a man and a woman, and these clothes brought that out in spades. He didn’t exactly look like a woman. But the flesh above the corset bulged almost like small breasts, and his pink nipples looked scandalous, out in the open like they were, even though he was a man. He looked different, that was for sure, and it brought something out of him, the way he moved and preened and came up to kiss me on my cheek.

“You’re a mighty handsome man, Jimmy Downing,” he said softly.

“I—uh, I…don’t know what”—I shook my head, unable to stop my gaze from going o’er him again and again—“I don’t know what to say.”

“Well? You wanna go upstairs with me?” Oscar said in a smoky, sexy voice. “I reckon I could use a good man like you up there.”

Cal and Trick were trying not to laugh. I shot an accusing look at Caliope.

“You did this.”

She blushed and looked down, then back up, and t’was fetching in a most singular way.

“Yes, Jimmy, I surely did. But Oscar asked for it. He came to me, I swear. Wanted to show you how sexy and sweet he could be, for the fun of it. Don’t he look nice?”

I turned back to Oscar, who shucked off his peignoir, turned and slowly bent himself to pick up the fan he’d dropped, showing me and everyone else how nice he looked from behind in them things.

“Aw, shucks, I seem to have dropped my fan.”

“Good lawdy, boy, stop this teasin’,” I groaned, moving forward to shield his backside from prying eyes. I grabbed his hips and brought him standing up against me, sliding my arms around him and holding him close. My breaths came rapid at the feel of that corset around his middle, and his fine ass in women’s bloomers against my hardening c**k was a trip.

He snorted a laugh and wiggled that ass against me.

“Oh, my goodness, you seem to have a very big problem there, Mr. Downing. Maybe you can take me upstairs and we can see what we can do about that, hmm?”

I spoke in his ear, running my hands all o’er the silk of his corset and rutting against him. “I reckon that’s a good idea. You’re a very naughty boy, Oscar, gettin’ dolled up in them pretty things to tease me. I reckon I should pull down those bloomers and tan your hide.”

“Guess what, ponyboys? We’re going on a field trip.”

He reattached our leather leads and took us out of the arena. I thought we’d be headed toward the woods or a more distant pasture. When he took us across the grounds toward the main house, it puzzled me.

Why are we going there? What is he planning to do with us?

I glanced at the others, who seemed equally confused. I only remembered going to the main house once in my ponyboy gear. That was on my first day—the first day of the BCR operating as a kink ranch—when Kamal took me to the main house to show me off to Adam.

Oh. Oh, no.

Kamal walked confidently in front of us, checking back to observe our forms and bark an order at Luke or at me. He did seem to handle Noah with a gentler touch. Then again, Noah had submission down to an art form. There wasn’t much room for correction.

Walking across the mowed lawn in my pony gear brought back memories of being at the BCR the first time, when everything seemed so strange but also necessary and perfect.

Kamal stopped the three of us at the foot of the porch steps and wrapped our leather leads around the rail post. I stared at his broad back as he ascended the steps and opened the door, peering inside and barking, “Marsland!” as my belly clenched with anxiety.

“Adam Marsland! I have some ponies out here for your inspection!”

What was Kamal’s plan? To remind Adam what I looked like in my pony gear so he’d remember our trysts and give me another chance, now that we were both a little older and wiser?

I stood taller and lifted my chin, soaked with drool from the gag already, and hoped for the best. There was nothing I could do except stand here and wait as my pulse and the grinding doubt in my belly intensified.

“Kamal, what the fuck are you doing?”

Adam had come to the door. He glanced at us briefly, then focused his annoyed gaze on our trainer. Connor came up behind him, peering over Adam’s shoulder.

Kamal grinned and stepped back from the open door, gesturing toward the three of us. “I thought you might like to have a closer look at three of our most beautiful specimens. You know, make sure I’m keeping them kitted up to the BCR standards.”

Adam narrowed his eyes, knowing there was more to it. Yet his gaze shifted to the three of us as if he couldn’t control it, and he licked his lips.

“They look fine,” he said.

“Don’t they?” Kamal grinned. “Why don’t you come a bit closer? They won’t bite unless I tell them to.”

Adam pursed his lips at Kamal’s humour. “I’m trying to finish the paperwork, Kamal.”

“Fuck the paperwork, Adam. Come and examine your pretty ponies.”

“They’re not my ponies.”

Kamal nodded. “Maybe not. But they represent you and the BCR. Probably a good idea to perform occasional inspections.”

Kamal had balls of steel. He stood there with his arms crossed, challenging Adam to come out and take a look at us.

A close look. Maybe a very close look.

I held my chin higher, feeling the rush of blood in my cheeks. If Adam did what Kamal was requesting, how the hell would I survive it?

I shifted from foot to foot as Adam’s gaze landed on me. He contemplated me from a distance while my heart just about stopped.

“Jesus, Kamal,” Adam muttered. But he stepped out onto the porch. He turned to Connor. “You want to come too?”

“Yes, please. I don’t get to see them up close much,” Connor said, looking us over with eager eyes. 

When I glanced at him he motioned to the bench. I climbed onto it as he helped me get in position, my wrists buckled to the tops of the forward legs, my collar attached to a ring and my c**k jutting underneath the end of the bench with my belly supported. This meant my knees were bent in a sort of crouch as he fastened my ankles to the bench legs. It was a humiliating position but if Kamal wanted me like this I couldn’t protest.

“Good boy,” Kamal said, “Are you ready?”

I puffed out a breath. “No, Sir.”

“Do I care?”

“Probably not, Sir.”

He laughed, a full hearty laugh, and sighed. “You got it. A plus. You look a sight, Owen. And I can’t wait until you’re writhing and begging for mercy.” He walked over and slapped my ass. “What’s your safeword, Owen?”

“Pineapple,” I grunted, the sting from his spank spreading across my skin.

“Use it if you want. But everything stops if you do, and I send you to the bunkhouse. If you get to a point where that’s what you want, use it. Otherwise, I’ll assume you’re still on board.”

“Yes, Sir.” Going back to the bunkhouse was the last thing I wanted. 

“All right then. I’m going to make myself comfortable over here on the bed,” he said.

I heard the squeak of the mattress and the rustle of bedclothes as Kamal arranged himself against the pillows, settling in for a morning’s entertainment. I didn’t know what time it was, but it had been eight o’clock when I’d presented myself in Adam’s office. It was probably about nine thirty—if that—and we had a long way to go until lunch. A lunch I would have to eat out of bowls on the floor.

The plug began to vibrate slightly. It was so low I barely felt it but it was there. I was surprised he didn’t start it at full strength to scare me. It potentially could give a much more violent vibration than he’d set it for at the moment. Maybe that was scarier—knowing it could go a lot harder but not having any idea how much.

At the moment, it was a gentle, peaceful hum of sensation deep inside me where I liked it. In my current position, the tip of the expertly made plug grazed against my prostate, and the low vibration was soothing. 

Kamal shifted on the bed. I heard him pick something up as the pages of a book rustled. 

Was that f**ker going to read a book while I was tied here? As if he wasn’t even interested in watching me? 

My mouth opened and I licked my lips, rubbing my cheek against the bench in confusion and frustration.

“Relax, Owen. We’ve got all morning,” he said, and I realized I was nothing more than a distraction. He’d read his book and think of other things while I crouched here in this awkward position, becoming more and more aroused until he was forced to attend to me. Maybe?

“Relax, Owen. The more you fight it the worse it will be.” He flipped another page in his book.

Fucker.

***who knows how many frustrating minutes later***

It was happening. It was happening now. I was going to come. And I was going to come with absolutely no control over my body’s reaction to the violent culmination of this torture.

I squeezed my eyes shut beneath the cloth and wailed as my body jerked and spasmed against the bench, the orgasm barreling through me like a bull through a farm gate. I felt the semen squirt out of me onto the mat, actually making noise it hit so hard. The vibrations continued, prolonging my orgasm until I slumped, defeated, against the bench and my breathing began to calm, even as my head spun with confusion and relief.

When he finally spoke, it was to say, “Well, that didn’t take as long as I thought it would.”

He reached under me and wrapped his hand around my d**k, stroking it a few times while I wriggled and protested. 

Where was that hand a minute ago? Now he wants to touch me? 

“No,” I moaned. “No, stop,” I hissed as his touch hurt the so-sensitive skin of my slowly shrinking penis.

“Are you safewording, Owen? You need to say your word.”

“No,” I whined. Goddammit, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Oh, f**k,” I swore as he released me and chuckled.

He disappeared for a moment and returned, holding something near my face. “Have some water.”

“Why?”

He laughed. “This isn’t pee torture. If you need to piss you can piss. But you’re going to need to re-hydrate if all your orgasms are as productive as that one.”

“All my—” What the hell was he saying?

“We’re not done here, Owen. This vibrating tail is staying in you for at least an hour or two. I wonder how many times you’re going to come?”

“What?” I said, mind spinning.

“Here. Drink.” He tipped the water bottle against my lips. I opened them and swallowed some of the cool liquid while I contemplated my predicament.

“I wonder how long it’ll take for that tail to get you revved up again. I’m going to get myself cleaned up.”

I groaned in frustration as I felt the low hum of energy deep inside. It wouldn’t work. I’d had a massive orgasm and I was sensitive and spent and exhausted. There was no way the vibrating tail would be able to get me off again.

But it did. Three more times before lunch. 

It took slightly longer to achieve the last one. By then, I’d given up and simply lay there and let it happen, moaning and crying while it rung me out again. The pleasure surged and subsided, and Kamal came over and knelt by my sweat-streaked face. He pushed the blindfold off, and I blinked in the sudden light.

“Well done. F**k, that was…” He shook his head. “I don’t have the words. Are you okay?”

Was I? 

I felt wrecked, but the muscle memory of those powerful orgasms shuddered through me with hints of the heights I’d reached and, yeah, I was fine. I was more than fine.

“Yeah,” I said barely above a whisper. “You bastard.”

And he laughed. The skin beside his eyes crinkled as his face lit up and I couldn’t help giving him a defeated smile myself.

I started looping the rope through my hands, while I stood there assessing him and deciding how I wanted to proceed.

“Oscar, you ever been hog-tied?”

He let out a breath and looked up, then, his eyes wide and mouth open. He seemed to process what I asked him then said, “Nope.” He moved his gaze along my body and locked on the rope in my hands. “I reckon I’d let you do it, though.”

I nodded thoughtfully, in no rush. The horses were taken care of, and I’d banked the fire. T’was a milder night than we’d been having, and we had the entire evening to ourselves, with only the owls watching.

“I reckon I want to hog-tie you right now. Then take my time havin’ my way with you.” I cocked my head and raised my eyebrows. “You on board with that?”

He nodded his head rapidly and made a little gasp before he said, “I reckon I’m on board with anythin’ you wanna do to me.”

“You remember your stop word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell it to me.”

“Wh—whiskey. It’s whiskey.” His voice came out in breathy pants as his eyes widened and a darker flush crept up his neck.

“Yes, that’s it. You tell me that word if you wanna stop this at any point, you hear? I don’t care if it’s because you’re hurtin’ too much, you’ve changed your mind or it’s too much, in any damn way.”

“God, look at me Jimmy,” he said, leaning back and pointing to his c**k, standing against his belly and leaking. “Do I look like I have a problem with any of this?”

I smiled. “Well, not yet. I reckon you won’t. I’m gonna try to keep everythin’ nice and gentle, except you’re gonna be tied up pretty tight. All right?”

He closed his eyes and nodded, swallowing thickly. “Yes, Jimmy.”

“All right.”

First, I got every single blanket and bit of padding we had to make a comfy little nest for Oscar, so’s he wouldn’t be strained too much beyond the confined position he’d be in. Then I spent the next twenty minutes rigging him up well and tight with the rope.

I had to figure it out, because t’wasn’t as simple as hog-tying a calf, although it did remind me of that. Oscar, at only 22 and slight in stature, was a similarly young animal, with gangly limbs, but he didn’t bellow like a calf would—least not yet. He might when he got closer to his finish. That thought made me laugh to myself.

That was my goal, really. To get him to make that kind of primal noise when I got him off finally, after lots of teasing and tasting, while he couldn’t do nothing about it.

Since I wanted access to his sex, both in front and behind, I made the necessary adjustments to the regular hog-tie method. Instead of binding his ankles to his wrists so that he was bent in a backwards bow, I kept him flat and bound his wrists together at the small of his back. Then I used a piece of rope to bind one calf to one thigh and repeated that on the other side. After that, I took a separate piece of rope and tied it between the wrist rope and each calf rope, so that Oscar was rendered immobile, but could open his legs as wide as he wanted or needed to, and I could play with him in those very tempting areas.

I thanked God them outlaws hadn’t tied him up this way, so he had no terrible memories of it. If he’d had bad memories of this, I wouldn’t have done it.

But Oscar was right. This was completely different from being strung up by two fellas who didn’t give a damn about whether you lived or died, or suffered, or what not. Oscar was giving me permission to do this every second he didn’t say that stop word of his, and I was grateful every moment that he trusted me enough to let me. Because when I was finished, and he lay there in the knotted ropes that squeezed his pale flesh in the most alluring places? T’was prettier than anything I’d ever seen in my whole life—and I’d seen a lot of things.

“Oscar. You look…” I didn’t even know a word for how beautiful he was.

“How do I look, Jimmy?” he said, voice quivering, dark eyes gazing up from where he lay on his side on the soft blanket, his c**k pointing out at me with a drop of fluid at its sweet tip.

“I can’t even—” I inhaled shakily and put a hand to my forehead. “I wanna eat you the f**k up, then f**k you so gentle it makes you cry with the pleasure of it.”

He moaned and his eyes closed. He licked his lips and nodded. “Okay. I say hell yes t’all that. Please.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” the captain hissed. 

I moaned as the captain wiggled the thing to make sure the stopper was seated properly.

“How does that feel?” the captain asked.

“Bloody huge.”

“Well, I know for a fact you like to have big things in your bowels,” the captain said, as he spread my arse cheeks wide and tapped on the flat end of the egg. “Looks quite scandalous.”

The vibrations echoed through me, sending sparks in every direction.

“Ooh,” I moaned. “Help.”

He laughed. “What on earth do you need help with? I’d suggest you relax, because I’m going to do a little reading whilst that lovely device stretches and prepares you for me. Then I’m going to f**k you, hard, whilst you’re in those ropes, and leave a quart of sp**k in you. Then I’m going to put the stopper back, and you’re going to keep that sp**k inside you until suppertime.”

“Oh my God. So f**king filthy,” I said with absolute reverence.

“Yes. And so are you, my dirty rooster. We’re perfect together.”

His words caused a glow of happiness to spread in my chest.

“Aye.”

Good thing I’d emptied my bladder before this game, as he left me dangling and stoppered for a time whilst he went back to his journal. In truth, the ropes made a sort of a cradle for me, and my arse soon adjusted to the invasion. I must have drifted off. 

A smart slap to the arse woke me. 

“Aye, Captain. Sorry, Captain,” I stuttered, not even sure what I was apologizing for.

“God, you’ve got a lovely arse, Rooster.”

He cupped my buttock and jiggled the muscle roughly before slapping it again.

“F**k,” I said. 

“Like that?”

“Yes. More.”

“I’d be delighted.”

He spent the next while alternately jiggling and spanking my arse, which made me discern the solidness of the wooden stopper in a way that sent ripples of pleasure throughout. He enjoyed eliciting gasps of pain and surprise, followed by moans and sighs of extraordinary pleasure from me. Heaven. He held onto the rope that secured me to keep me from spinning.

“Your arse is a lovely shade of pink now.”

He tugged on the stopper. I groaned as he eased the thing out, my c**k firm and dripping. But now I was bereft.

“Please, Captain.”

“Please what, Rooster?”

“I want that big truncheon inside me.”

“You do, do you? Well, isn’t that convenient, because that’s just what you’re going to get.”

The swish of oil on flesh preceded him nudging the tip of his battering ram at my rear entrance, hot and impossibly large. But the egg had prepared me, and he sank in with little trouble.

“Oh f**k, f**k, f**k,” I muttered. “Oh God.”

He was not any quieter.

“Jesus. Oh, Jesus, fuck. F**k it. I want to ravish you.”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

“I’m going to f**k you now, Rooster. I shall flood you with my seed and perhaps even get you with child. You never know. There is some magic at work in you.”

The very thought of the captain planting his seed in me proved intoxicating. Though I didn’t think a babe would result, the idea of Captain Martin attempting such a thing aroused me to no end. He was a man of his word and did plow me to within an inch of my life, holding the ropes that held me captive and reaching places inside me that had never been touched before. Of that I was certain.

“I’m catching up on the news and doing some required reading for an online course I’m taking,” he said. “And keeping an eye on your friend."

I swallowed thickly as my eyes took in the other person in the room.

“Oh. Shit,” Noah whispered. I could almost smell his fear.

All the chairs except for Kamal’s had been moved away from the boardroom table and stacked in a corner. Luke lay spread out face up on the polished brown wood, wrists and ankles fastened to the table legs with long straps immobilizing him. He had a black ball gag in his mouth and a red blindfold on. Saliva covered his chin and streaked his cheeks. The cage was still on his c**k which swelled and leaked against the cold metal. A brown, braided riding crop lay on the table by his bound ankle. The instrument appeared old and well-used like crops I’d seen hanging in horse barns. I swallowed thickly at this juxtaposition of something so familiar to me and something so new. 

“I had to gag him. He wouldn’t shut up. I think he was trying to push my buttons so I’d unbuckle him and at least paddle him or something.”

Luke gave an agonized moan and my c**k swelled at the sound. Seeing Luke so helpless and in obvious erotic distress caused a definite reaction in me. 

“How is he supposed to safeword?” I asked.

“He can snap his fingers,” Kamal said, sounding bored again. “He’s already used the signal once because he needed to piss. Boy, was that a production.”

“Is he… Is he okay?” Noah asked.

“Luke, are you okay? Noah is worried about you,” Kamal asked blithely.

Luke grunted and gave Kamal the finger.

“See, he’s fine. But in a bit of a predicament.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said, licking my lips and trying to tear my eyes away from Luke’s restrained form. “So why are we here?” I asked, worried about what Kamal’s answer might be.

Kamal looked at me and then Noah, deliberately prolonging our curiosity and trepidation. Then he put his tablet down and stood.

“You’re here to watch. Luke put you both in a very awkward position on Friday evening. So, I want you to see me put him in an awkward position. Several, in fact.”

“Oh God,” Noah murmured.

A sense of relief flowed through me. Then interest. Definite interest. “Okay. Seems fair.”

Luke groaned in protest.

Kamal grinned. “Oh, he’ll enjoy the experience, I’m sure. But the consequences will also be very humiliating for him. And extremely satisfying for me. Win-win.” 

Kamal reached out and ran the tip of his index finger along Luke’s skin from his sensitive underarm to his hip as he walked half the length of the table. Luke wriggled and panted, groaning as his c**k fought the cage. 

Kamal glanced at us. “You can sit or stand, whichever is more comfortable. But you’ll have a better view of everything if you stand.”

I nodded. Neither I nor Noah took the offered chairs. The nervous tension transformed into a coiling sexual anticipation. 

What was Kamal going to do? How would Luke react? 

I felt like I was present at the start of a big-top show or something equally amazing and unpredictable, with the added benefit of knowing one of the performers.

Kamal picked up the riding crop and struck the tabletop beside Luke, making all of us jump.

“Okay, Luke, your friends are here. So, let’s get on with this,” Kamal said, running the tip of the crop along Luke’s arm from wrist to underarm, making him twist and try to get away. But he was so spread out he couldn’t go far.

“This is for lying to Jensen,” Kamal said, flicking the tip of the crop hard against Luke’s right nipple, which made him hiss and jerk. “And this is for lying to Noah.” He did the same to Luke’s left nipple with the same result. Then he laughed. “Nah, kidding. I know that didn’t hurt at all.”

He used the crop to point at something on the table I hadn’t noticed before. “Noah, can you pass me those steel clamps, please?”

At his words, Luke woke up and took notice. He made a frantic sound and struggled in his bindings.

“I’ve clamped his nipples a few times today already. He fights nipple torture, but the results are satisfactory.”

Noah moved forward and gathered the clamps before passing them to Kamal.

“Thank you,” Kamal said, taking them both in his left hand and dragging the crop along Luke’s side, playing the tip in the hair leading to his captive c**k, and then down the inside of his thigh to tap between his legs. “How is this plug feeling, Luke? Did I forget to tell you there’s a remote?”

Luke whimpered.

“I thought so. I’m going to turn the vibration on low in a moment, so you can suffer the wonderful feeling in your ass while you have no outlet of relief and while your nipples are aching with pain.”

Kamal put the crop down and fished a small black device from his pocket. He held the tiny remote up for Noah and I to see, then pressed a button. A soft steady buzzing became audible.

Luke jerked his hips and gasped. 

“Ah, this setting’s a bit too low,” Kamal murmured, pressing the button again. The buzzing became louder. 

Luke’s hips jerked twice more; then he relaxed and emitted a submissive whimper.

“There we go,” Kamal said. “Perfect.” As he moved in with the clamps, he pinched Luke’s nipple quickly, making him cry out. “Watch closely, Jensen. These are a handy tool to quiet a rebellious ponyboy in the arena. Or to torture a spoiled brat in the boardroom.”