Sinn wet his lips. in the diminished glow of the streetlights, the shine of his lips glimmered wetly, invitingly. But Will waited. He needed more.
"You've got me more exposed than I've ever been before. Yeah, I've been stripped naked. I've been offered at parties, played with, poked, rammed. I've been drugged up with coke, with booze, with uppers, with downers. I've been fucked one-on-one, I've been gang-banged. I've been tied up and whipped and spanked and...brutalized beyond anything you can begin to imagine. I thought I'd known it all, experienced everything there was to experience with sex. Except for you. Somehow I think you’re more dangerous than all of them. You’ve got a seductive way none of them had.”
Raw pain roared through Will at learning the full extent of what Sinn had endured over the years. How could a man not be jaded after that kind of abuse? Cruelty, abuse, almost destroying him. And yet, Sinn was made of tough Montana stock. He was a survivor. Will recalled a young singer with dreams in his eyes back in Reverie. He wished he could see those sparkling silver eyes once again filled with hopes and dreams. But at least now he knew how that sparkle had been expunged.
Will kissed Sinn, hungered for him. He thrust his tongue deep into Sinn's mouth. Sinn's head dropped back against Will's shoulder. He sucked on Will's tongue sending arousal darting fast and furious through Will's body. He pulled away before it went beyond the point of no return.
"Your answer," he rasped. He needed it now. He was too near to losing it and he had to get some distance.
Sinn's lips were now puffy and engorged, reddened from Will's possession. Parted with readiness for more. Will bit his lower lip, tugged and Sinn groaned, his eyes closing. Will worried the lip. Drew blood. Tasted the warm, thick metallic texture before releasing the lip. Sinn's tongue flicked out to test the slight wound.
His eyes darkened as he looked into Will's eyes. "I like pain," he admitted.
"Good," Will said. "I know how to give it."
Sinn licked the wound again. "I can see that. I used to get punished a lot. I've never been known as a good boy. My stepfather always said I was the devil’s spawn. Guess he was right."
"He gave you the belt." But this was something Will already knew.
"Often. I learned how to handle it."
"Like you handled those record producers?"
Sinn nodded. "All of it."
"I don't mete out that kind of pain. Not like that."
"No, I don't think you do. Bite me again. I like the way you do it."
Will smiled. "You are recalcitrant, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah." Again he wiggled his wrists and the cuffs jangled. "You have no idea."
But Will did know. The only way to get this man's attention was to be different than anything he had before. For the moment he had his attention, but there was still more to show him.
"I'm still waiting for your answer."
"All right, then. Yes. Yes, I want to be here. Do your worst, big boy. Do your worst. I can take anything you throw at me."
"You think that's what I'm going to do? Beat you until you scream? Fuck you until you beg me to stop? Wound you until you can't take another moment? Make you cry?"
Something hardened in Sinn's gaze as he stared at Will. "I don't cry. I never cry. My stepfather taught me that. I don't cry. So do your worst, sweetheart. Do your worst."
Will's heart almost broke at Sinn's words. The hard crust that life had built around his heart was not going to easily be broken. But Will was planning to try. This man deserved at least that.
Will moved back; he had the assent he wanted. He pulled the black silk scarf from his pocket, wound it tightly and then gagged Sinn with it, tied it firmly behind his head. He heard Sinn gasp. Will cupped the back of his head.
"Remember what you said. Remember you agreed to put yourself into my hands. Whatever I throw at you, you can take. That's what you said. Well, let's see if you mean it."
He grabbed Sinn's arm and turned him down the hallway. Past the stairs leading up to the second floor, toward the back of the building. He opened a door, then guided Sinn down the stairs. He felt Sinn tense, try to pull back. But this time, there was no going back. Only forward, and down. Will closed the door behind him and shoved the bolts into place.
* * *
Sinn had thought he was experienced in every sort of sexual persuasion, and perversion, it was possible to know about. Having survived that phase of his life, once he'd found his feet in the music world, found a band and a rhythm he could embrace wholeheartedly, he didn't take it for granted. But he was also the type of man who did not do things by half-measure. He took chances, he rode the edge in every way.
He stumbled down the next step, his stomach churned. And yet, his heart thundered with excitement. Will knew how to seduce a man. Sinn had never had the occasion to need to seduce anybody. He had those type of looks that made a man–any man–or woman for that matter, stop and look twice. He had a way about him that drew people to him. Unfortunately, not always the right people. But still, he'd never had to work to find a fuck partner. Yeah, he'd been young once, been used, been abused, sworn it wouldn't happen again. And since those years, any of the encounters he had been in, out, and gone. Fuck, dispel the energy, send them on their way–never a redux with the same man. Always a box of condoms on hand.
He'd been lucky after those early days. Real lucky. There'd been a stretch after he got off the hamster wheel and his mind had cleared, when he was afraid of what he might have contracted. He stayed clean, he stayed sober, he remained celibate, he focused on his music. He got tested and went for regular check-ups. Since those days he never fucked unwrapped. And never engaged in more than fucking, with him doing the fucking.
Control. In every part of his life except for his music. In that–whether playing or composing, he let everything out. It's one of the reasons they were being considered for a major recording contract. Sinn was leery, he'd been burned, but this time the band had an agent–this time it felt real.
But his personal life, what there was of it, remained empty, and lonely. Not one of the men who had tramped through his life had been memorable. Yeah, empty was the best word. Untouched. He'd thought it was just that he'd learned his lessons, had hardened, was experienced. But tonight, something was shifting. It scared, and it excited him. But after maintaining such tight control for the last few years on his personal life, how could he possibly allow his emotions to run unchecked? What had this man done to him? What had he let himself in for this time?
He dragged his feet. He tried to eye the narrow corridor leading down below ground. He'd heard Will lock the door. Three sets of locked doors stood between Sinn and freedom. Not counting the handcuffs, nor to whatever place Will was planning to take him. He'd agreed to this. What a damn fool he was. Had he become so needy for someone to make an imprint on him? The first man that made the numbness seem to fade and he drops like a felled tree, or a cow about to be branded. Forced along the shoot, prodded and goaded forward, with no way out, no way back. Will pulled him down another step.
"Just let me guide you," Will said in that oh-so-seductive voice of his. Soothing Sinn into hell knew what situation. Idiot! He'd said he could take anything. Could he? He'd crawled out of the hog swill, was finally on the music path, and he lets himself be drawn into this situation? What the fuck? Did he have a death wish? Was he afraid of actually succeeding? What had he been thinking?
He stepped down one more time. Onto flat concrete this time. Will led him toward an old scuffed wooden door. He pulled out an older metal key, unlocked the door, and guided Sinn through it. Another tunnel awaited, the hallway lit by floor track lighting, dim, just enough light to see the mortared walls. Was this part of the tunnel system beneath the city? Sinn had never taken the tours of the tunnels, maybe he should have. He heard Will lock the door behind them. That made four locked doors. Was he ever going to see the light of day again?
His cock had deflated, why the hell not? This did not arouse him. Well, not that mu
ch anyway. But still, the cold, damp air sifted across his limp flesh, across his exposed chest, tightening his nipples. His breaths grew faster, the silk scarf affixed between his lips got wet with his saliva, tasted of limp tasteless cloth. His lips were stretched, drying out. He couldn't wet them.
They kept walking. Sinn tried to count the steps, but he lost track. Will stopped him. He unlocked another door. It opened onto another set of stairs, this time leading up.
He grunted, wanted to ask where they were going, but his words were unintelligible. Will guided him up the steps and into another hallway, He locked the door leading down. Five locked doorways. Sinn had no fucking clue how he'd ever find his way out of this place.
The carpet was charcoal. Indoor/outdoor type. The walls were newly painted what appeared a dark maroon. Lights affixed to the wall were older with a flickering nineteenth century look to them. The doors, although appearing new, were painted black, trimmed in maroon.
Suddenly, Will reached around and fingered Sinn's flaccid cock.
"Our little trip didn't arouse you. Are you afraid, Sinn?" Will played with his cock. His warm fingers curled around his flesh. Will pressed his lips to Sinn's neck, licked, and then nipped. "Do you still trust me, Sinn?"
How could he say yes or no? He was confused. But his cock was responding to Will's ministrations.
"There you go," Will said. "You respond quickly. I like that." His hand jerked up and down Sinn's semi-aroused prick. "A little more. Give me what I want, Sinn. You want this; you've already told me you do. Show me how you feel. Let me see how bad you want to play."
His breathing ground almost to a halt as his cock surged. And he knew, there was simply no denying it. He wanted to play. God damn, he wanted to play. The groan of assent came out muffled from behind the sodden silk scarf. But Will seemed to understand his assent very well. And just before Sinn thought he was going to come, Will's hand dropped away. Sinn's cock bobbed heavy in full erection. The leather of his pants bit into the skin beneath his balls.
Fuck, but it was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER FIVE
It wasn't just Sinn who was aroused; Will was having a hard time maintaining control. He had to get him into the playroom and then get some distance. He definitely needed some distance. He did not want to rush the next few hours. Sinn was finally here with him, and there was no need to hurry things. They had all the time in the world. Will had given Sinn every chance to back out, to walk away, so now they moved forward.
Will released Sinn, he leaned forward and opened the door. He flipped on a switch and the bare bulb up above flared to life sending the room into a harsh drench of stark yellow light. He pushed Sinn into the room. He waited for just a moment as Sinn stared around him. He looked at the black padded walls, the silver rings bolted into the walls, the padded horse off to one side, the black cushioned floor. The black credenza off to the left that held an assortment of toys, oils, lotions, that made play special in this room.
Will had designed this playroom and it served a number of different purposes. Sinn would soon find that out. His photography, the book deals, the journalism assignments, and cautious investments had made Will's life very comfortable. His skills in a variety of ways brought him top dollar. Considering his age, success had come early and perhaps a bit too easily. Or maybe it was because of Bobby he'd just fought harder, knowing every day counted–any minute might be the last. He hadn't wasted a second. Nor had he taken any of his successes for granted.
Sinn appeared reluctant to enter the room. Will nudged him forward until they reached the center. He settled a hand on Will's shoulder and slowly exerted pressure, forcing him down to his knees. Keeping one hand settled between Sinn's shoulders, with the other hand he drew his pants down over his buttocks and left them there. Then he forced Sinn forward until his head met the floor. Sinn angled his head to the side, staring back at Will, a certain amount of trepidation evident in his eyes.
Again, Will used his hands to gentle the half-tamed wild thing kneeling submissively on the floor of the playroom. He stroked across his back, down his bound arms, across his delicious bottom. He combed his fingers through the tangled wavy blond locks.
"Soon, pretty Sinn. soon. You've given yourself to me tonight, and soon you'll find out exactly what that entails." He continued to stroke across Sinn's body and again he felt the tension ebb, though sweat broke out on his skin. Will leaned forward and inhaled deeply. Yes, best that he take a moment to gather himself.
He rose. "Get used to the room, Sinn. I need to prepare. I won't be long."
Sinn lifted his head and glared at him. Will couldn't make out what he was trying to say around the silk gagging him. Just as well. A few moments alone likely would serve to sensitize him even more. With his foot centered to Sinn’s shoulder blades, he forced Sinn back down to the floor. "I suggest you stay put until I return. Patience, Sinn. Patience. It will be rewarded."
Will walked toward a panel behind Sinn. He touched a hidden button and the panel popped open. Will stepped through into what he called his control room cum sleeping quarters. The automated panel behind him silently slid shut. This was a large room, with a drafting table, a king-sized black-satin covered bed with black iron-scrolled head and base boards. Several flat-screen monitors mounted on one wall, a control panel near at hand. A black oriental tallboy dresser on the other black-paneled wall. There was a door leading to a full-sized bathroom, tiled in black marble and gold brass trim. His mentor, the first man he’d served, had called this his real playroom. He expected it might be more appropriately termed his personal playroom.
He walked over to the control panel, pressed a button, and the image of Sinn in the public playroom flared to life on the screen. He was fidgeting, but he remained kneeling as he gazed around the unusual room. Will had to wonder what thoughts were running through his mind about now. He brought Sinn down here by way of an intricate maze of pathways. There was a more direct route to the play area, but what was the fun in that? His finger hovered over one switch, then he flicked it sending the room into complete and utter darkness. He heard the guttural sounds emitting from Sinn. He could hear the sounds of his struggles, the rattle of the cuffs surrounding his wrists. He flipped on the infrared camera. Yes, he was fine, just a bit discomfited. Then Will walked away from the panel, slowing stripping, he entered the bathroom naked.
The bathroom was also outfitted with high-tech equipment. He went to the screen embedded into the tiled wall next to the mirrored medicine cabinet. He touched the screen and it flared to life. So many options. He touched the button marked “full screen,” and the walls surrounding the shower flared to life with the image and sounds from the main playroom. Then he touched another button, and the water in the shower turned on. He stepped beneath the shower spray, used the unscented soap and lathered his body up coating his hairless skin with the white foam, thinking about, and watching, the man in the next room, considering what he had planned. It was all going just as he'd hoped. Truly, he'd never thought he'd get this far. But he'd planned, he'd trained, he'd researched, he outfitted these rooms. And now they were here.
He soaped his cock, his balls, circled a hand over his groin. He watched Sinn wiggle, trying to get more comfortable. Will was pleased that Sinn didn’t try to rise from his position on the floor. He touched the image outlining Sinn’s larger than life image on the screen. He changed position, ran a finger down Sinn’s super-imposed ass crack. Delicious. He couldn't help smiling to himself.
Enough playing with pictures. He was getting too turned on. Will scrubbed his hair clean, then rinsed. They had both come a long way from Montana. Both had experiences that had forged their very different adult personalities.
After a thorough cleansing, he stepped from the shower and toweled himself dry, then turned off the bathroom screens and re-entered the main control room. He went to the closet and pulled out the flowing white silk poet shirt, the tight black pants that left nothing to the imagination. He lifted a br
and new pair of black leather gloves from a silver box on the shelf. He leaned down and picked up the tall English black leather riding boots, polished to a fine shine. He laid the outfit out upon the black satin coverlet on his bed, and set the boots next to the bed.
He glanced up at one of the monitors to assure himself Sinn was still in position. He moved to the dresser, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the new black riding crop and unwrapped it. He tested its resiliency. Exactly right. He stroked a hand over the fat dildoed grip. He glanced up at the monitor screen again, heard the rustling sounds, the muffled cries.
"Almost there, sweetheart. Almost there," he said. Then he carefully began to dress.
* * *
Sinn managed to hold on to his control by a thread, right up until the light went out. Then he panicked. What the fuck had he gotten himself into? Had he let his cock lead him right into the worst situation imaginable. What did this guy have in mind to do to him? He'd never been in a room quite like this. Each piece of equipment, the black walls, the simple lines, somehow seemed too intimidating and fueled a full range of fantasies, especially when the light went out. At first he'd found it exciting and his curiosity got the better of him. But now after what seemed a lengthy stretch of time crouched here on the floor–now he just wanted out. Even his cock didn't seem the least bit interested in staying around.
For a long time he tried to find a way to be free of the cuffs. He struggled and twisted. The position of his leather pants sure as hell wasn't any help with his bare ass waving in the air and the frigging gag sodden with his saliva. He was hogtied like he never had been before. Just as penned as those cows during branding season. Damn, but it had been a long time since he'd thought about those round-ups back in Montana. A real long time. Going in that direction brought up painful memories. Of him and his best friend, Bobby, working tandem, bringing those cows into line. Of he and Bobby, set up in Bobby's garage, fiddling with the guitars, playing around with lyrics that Sinn had thought up. Another flash and Bobby looking sad, handing Sinn a wad of cash.
Delicious Sinn Page 4