Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

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Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits Page 58

by Michael Murphy


  I tensed, waiting, but Kyle walked around the room the other way, away from them. He’d obviously seen them and was giving them a wide berth. I didn’t blame him.

  “Master,” Kyle said as he stepped up and offered me the plate. He’d filled it with a bit of each type of meat, a few of the veggies, and several cubes of cheese.

  “Perfect, boy,” I said, taking the food. “Thank you.” I held his as he got to his knees, then handed it back.

  “Thank you, Master,” he murmured.

  I brushed my hand over his hair and looked up to see the three guys who’d been talking about Kyle looking at us. I raised my eyebrows at them, and they turned, moving away from us. I breathed a little easier.

  I looked down at Kyle, who’d been looking at them. He blushed and turned back to his plate.

  “I know who they are, boy. Was it just those three? Or did you play with anyone else that’s here tonight?”

  He shook his head. “Just them and Master Nash, Sir.”

  “Okay. Eat, boy,” I said, running my hand over his hair again, the slight trembling he’d gotten from those bastards stopped with my touches. “Sammy, can I borrow Cam for a minute?”

  She raised her eyebrows but nodded. “Of course.”

  “Cam,” I said, and crooked my finger. He came around the love seat and leaned in. “Get close but don’t let them see you. See if you can overhear them.”

  “Will do, Sir,” he said, and I grinned at him. He rolled his eyes and crossed the room. Sammy never required him to use the title for me, especially wouldn’t have in this situation, but he tended to get into the mindset and stayed there, no matter who he was talking to.

  I focused on my food, prodding Kyle to eat as well, keeping half an eye on the guys across the room. Cam was sneaky, never getting too close, and he didn’t seem to draw their attention.

  Finally, just as I set my plate down, Cam came back, smirking as he crossed to us. “Oh, you’re going to love this.”

  Kyle looked up, eyebrows raised.

  I gave him a look, and he dropped his gaze to the floor. I touched his head to assure him he hadn’t screwed up. “What’s that?”

  “Apparently,” Cam said, snickering, “the consensus is… you’ve gone soft, all that time out of the scene.”

  Kyle did some sort of half-snort, half-cough. I thought he was going to choke on his food. I leaned forward and pounded on his back. “Sorry, Master,” he managed, still coughing.

  I grinned. “Well, I don’t have to ask your opinion on that.”

  “No. No, Sir, you don’t.” And he was the one who mattered most to me.

  While he recovered, I glanced around to see Dean and Scott missing. I was guessing they’d gone into the playspace. Another of the Doms I’d known before, Logan, came in from the playspace then, his boy, Shane, trailing behind him. I waved and they came over.

  “Mal! I didn’t know you were back!” Logan shook my hand.

  “Yup, with a new beautiful boy.” I put my hand on Kyle’s head. “Logan, this is my boy, Kyle. Kyle, Master Logan and his boy, Shane.”

  “Hello, Master Logan,” Kyle said, then tilting his head at Shane. “Shane.”

  Shane nodded and smiled to him in reply.

  “He is a pretty one,” Logan said, smiling. “How long have you been together?”

  “A week. I won him at the auction last Friday.”

  “Oh! I wasn’t here for that. And collared already?”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “What can I say? My boy stole my heart.”

  Kyle’s head lifted, but I kept my hand on his neck and squeezed it gently.

  “It does happen that way sometimes, doesn’t it?” Logan asked, looking fondly at Shane. “He did that to me.”

  I snickered. “I remember. You were a sap for weeks.”

  Logan flipped me off and I smirked. “So, you guys playing?” he asked.

  I looked down at Kyle. “I hadn’t planned to. Was going to take him home and torment him there. But… it seems we might have something to prove.”

  Logan snorted. “I know who you mean. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

  I inclined my head. “True. Then perhaps I just want to show him off a little.” I squeezed Kyle’s neck lightly. “He’s even more beautiful in pain.”

  Logan grinned at that. “That’s at least more honest.”

  I laughed. “Indeed. We’ll be heading in soon, I think.”

  “We’d love to watch. We came out for a drink. Give us a sec. We’ll follow you in.”

  I nodded and waved as they left, then leaned in to Kyle. “Are you okay with this?”

  “Yes, Master.” He licked his lips, then looked up at me. “I’d love to prove it to them too. I…. Master Logan is right. We don’t have to, but….”

  “But you, like I, want to.”

  “Exactly,” he agreed.

  “I thought you might. All right, then, boy. Let’s go.”

  KYLE AND I—along with Sammy, Cam, Logan, and Shane—headed into the playspace part of the dungeon. The dungeon proper was about half-occupied. Two of the St. Andrew’s Crosses were full, the suspension rigging had a female bound up and hanging from it, the two hanging beds were occupied, and a number of the spanking benches had someone strapped to them.

  The piece of equipment I wanted was empty, thankfully. Opposite the door, on the end of the center line of equipment, stood a wooden frame. Built like a door frame, it had handles at the top and a row of holes cut into the vertical posts to tie a hapless bottom to. The frame was positioned away from the rest of the equipment enough so that I’d be able to walk all the way around Kyle.

  In front of this sat a grouping of furniture for observers. I had no doubt it’d be full before I took a single swing. I was counting on it, in fact.

  “Shoes, socks, chaps, and jock off, boy,” I said, setting my bag next to the frame. I took the blanket I always carried out and handed it to Cam to set on the sofa. “Logan?”

  He stepped forward. “What can I do?”

  “See if you can find Scott and Dean and make it known we’re playing, hmm?”

  Logan grinned. “Happy to. Don’t start without me.”

  “Not planning on it. Thanks.”

  Logan slapped me on the back and started across the dungeon.

  I turned my attention to getting things ready.

  Chapter 12

  Kyle

  AS I removed the things Master told me to, I tried to remind myself I didn’t have anything to be nervous about. Master had been pleased with me over the scene the week before. And we’d had several minor scenes since then. All of which he’d praised me for extensively.

  Part of my nervousness, I was willing to admit, was the fact that we’d have an audience, much more than we had the week before. Last week, it had only been Mistress Sammy and Cam watching us. This week, at least two of Master’s Dom friends would be watching, along with their boys. And, of course, my former Doms.

  I folded the chaps carefully and laid them on top of my shoes, then piled my jock and socks on top. Standing in front of the frame in the presentation position, I waited for Master to give me more orders, closing my eyes and doing my best to find my center. I reminded myself Master was the only one who mattered. None of the others’ opinions would make Master not want me.

  Everything I’d seen so far had told me Master—Mal—was pleased with me and wanted me. The only one I had to please was him. And I’d do my damnedest to make sure I’d do that so he’d keep wanting me.

  I opened my eyes and dropped my gaze to the floor. I sensed more than saw Master moving around behind me. In front of me, the furniture started to fill. Mistress Sammy and Cam had one end of a love seat, Master Logan and Shane the other. Master Nash leaned against the wall behind another chair, his pet kneeling at his feet on a pillow. In two of the chairs, I saw two other Doms I didn’t know, boys at their feet, and on the sofa right in front, the three Doms who didn’t want me.

  I swallowe
d to try to moisten my suddenly dry throat and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. My heart pounded and stomach twisted. I tried to remember how to simply breathe.

  “Easy, boy.” Master’s voice drifted through my mounting panic. “Easy. Close your eyes,” he ordered, and I immediately complied. “Good boy. Who am I?”

  “My Master,” I answered without hesitation.

  “And who do you have to please?” One of his hands slid over my sore ass.

  I jumped slightly. “You, Master.”

  “Exactly, boy. No one else matters.” He squeezed my ass. “You’ll do wonderfully. I already know you’ll please me, boy. Focus on me, only me.”

  I took another breath and let it out, my heart slowing. “Yes, Master. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, beautiful boy.” He kissed my cheek and I calmed a little more. He moved around in front of me. “Look up at me, boy.”

  I did as he bid, meeting his gorgeous dark eyes. “Yes, Master?”

  “I need to know you’ll use your safewords if you need to.”

  My gaze darted behind him to the assembled group.

  “No. They don’t matter. We talked about this, didn’t we? Does it mean you fail if you use it?”

  I looked back at him and, after a few seconds, shook my head. “No, Master.” I took another deep breath. “I’m sorry, Master.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for, boy. I’m going to push you tonight. But I need to trust that you’ll stop me before I go too far. I don’t plan to, but if I do….”

  “I’ll use them, Master.”

  “Good.” He smiled at me and tweaked one of my nipples. “I’m going to take your harness off. I want access to this gorgeous skin. Keep the plug in, got it?”

  “Yes, Master.” I stood still as he worked the straps off me, doing my best not to groan when he jiggled the plug to pull the straps out. I was grateful for my previous nervousness. My cock had gone soft, making it easier on Master to remove the ring and that portion of the harness. Finally, I was completely naked.

  “Over here, boy,” he said, guiding me backward into the frame. From this angle, I had no way to see the things Master had pulled out of his bag. I had no idea what he was going to do, and the lack of knowledge made my cock twitch.

  Once I was in place, he wrapped his thick, padded leather cuffs around my wrists and hooked them to the top of the frame. I grabbed onto the handles, more for something to hold on to than for any real need. Next, he wrapped similar cuffs around my ankles, pulled my legs wide, and fixed them to the bottom of the frame. Spread as I was, I couldn’t move much at all.

  Anticipation coiled in me, and my cock was already filling. I kept my gaze lowered to the floor, ignoring the audience in front of me. I focused instead on where Master was, listening to his movements.

  The click of a cap reached my ears, then Master’s hand was on my balls. He spread something over them, and a few seconds later, the burn hit, spreading fast. I gritted my teeth as I tried to deal with the sudden pain. Master’s fingers were on my cock next, but all my focus was on the agony in my sac. I looked down, unsurprised to see my cock had hardened completely. I’d always reacted well to pain in my genitals, though I’d never tried putting Icy Hot on my balls before.

  Apparently, burning was a pain I liked too.

  “Let your sounds out, boy. I want to hear them. They get me so hard,” Master said in my ear, and I unclenched my jaw and let the moan out. “Better.”

  He swatted my ass lightly, pulling a grunt from me, then came around, holding something metal. He wrapped it around my sac, which stretched the skin, making me grunt again. Then he closed the cuff, and when he let go, it pulled, hanging heavy between my legs.

  Next, he placed a leather cock ring around my cock and balls. He fastened it tight, tighter than usual, and blood surged to my cock, filling it even further. I whimpered a little, the three days of tease and denial making this way more frustrating than it would have been otherwise.

  Master squeezed my burning balls, adding that pain to the mix, until he pulled a soft cry from me. He fisted his hand in my hair and pulled it, leaning in. “How does that feel, boy?”

  “Hurts,” I grunted, back bowing with the strain.

  “Good,” he murmured. Then he wrapped his hand around my cock and stroked it several times as I struggled with the pleasure that bloomed fast. “No coming, boy,” he reminded me, and I grunted my acquiescence. He kept it up, pulling me close to orgasm ridiculously fast, until I cried out again, struggling to hold my climax back.

  He let go and slapped my cock hard. I grunted as pain shot through it, but the burn in my balls overshadowed the pain from the slap. My entire groin still felt like it was on fire, and every hit only seemed to make it worse. He slapped my cock again, sending it all swinging.

  Abruptly, he stepped back, and I swayed a bit in my binding. I gasped, panting with the pain. I realized I’d forgotten about our audience. I’d been so focused on Master and what he was doing to me.

  I couldn’t hold on to that thought, though. Because on the heels of it, Master’s crop came down on my balls. I sucked in a breath, but before I could deal with that hit, he did it again, several times, then up on the underside of the head of my dick, then back to my balls. Every hit intensified the burn, keeping me in a pain so huge, I couldn’t think of anything except it and Master.

  Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew that was the point.

  Master shifted his attention to my sensitive inner thighs. He left sharp hits down one side, then up the other. Then he did it again, my cries falling freely now. “Good boy,” Master murmured in my ear. He cupped my balls, massaging them, the burn flaring brighter. “So good.” He let go only to slap them, then cup them again and squeeze.

  I whimpered, the pain shoving my need close to the edge again. I lost track of the dungeon, Master’s hands and voice the only things I could focus on.

  Until he stepped back again and the first hit from Master’s flogger landed on my stomach. The stingy falls surprised a grunt out of me. The next hit was harder, as was each one after. He covered my stomach and chest, catching my nipples once, making me shout. Then Master aimed at my thighs. Those strikes landed over the crop ones from earlier, the sharp pain making me cry out again. After he’d pulled several more cries from me, he shifted his attention once more, and the flogger came up between my legs to hit my balls.

  That caused another shout and precum to leak. I couldn’t decide what was pulling my attention more, the need to come or the pain in my balls. In the end, it didn’t matter, one fed the other and back again. My frustration was downright painful, my full, heavy balls hurting with the need to empty. The burn from the Icy Hot and the fresh series of flogger hits only made me need to come more.

  Master set the flogger down and picked up the strap I’d seen in his bag the week before. It looked a lot like a belt without a buckle, quite thick and probably two inches wide.

  And it stung like a bitch when it landed on my stomach. I shouted again, swaying in the frame.

  “That’s it, boy, so good,” he rumbled in my ear. “You’re doing wonderfully.” He tugged my head back by my hair again, dark eyes searching my face. “Oh, yes,” he said, though I didn’t know what he saw that prompted it. He let go of my hair, then brought the belt down again, this time on my leg. He gave one to the other, then shortened it and focused on my cock. I couldn’t hold in the shouts over these strikes for anything. He gave me several, and when I looked down, my rock-hard cock was so dark, it looked purple. The veins stood out in sharp relief, and precum flowed constantly.

  “So hard, aren’t you?” Master asked, and the note of evil in his voice made my balls try to draw up. “Bet you want to come badly, don’t you?”

  I whimpered a yes.

  “No, not yet. I’m not nearly done with this yet,” he said, then gave another hard slap to my cock.

  I grunted, sucking in a breath when Master stepped away again.

&n
bsp; When he came back, he held a bag I hadn’t seen before. I wasn’t sure what it was until he pulled a clothespin out. The wooden kind with a metal spring.

  The first one he put on my left nipple, drawing another cry from me. It bit into the sensitive skin around the ring. I knew the pain from these wouldn’t last long. The pain when Master took them off would be the hardest.

  He put one on my other nipple, then took another one out, this one with a string on it. I grunted hard when he clipped it to the side of my dick. He added another and another, putting them close together until they ran the entire length. He skipped the head and went down the other side, yet again close together the whole way.

  I was moaning pretty much constantly by this time. Now I couldn’t tell if the pain in my cock was worse, or if the burning in my balls was. It didn’t much matter because in that moment, my brain flipped that little switch, and I rocked forward instead of back, as the pain was now truly pleasure.

  The dungeon faded completely, and the only things I knew were the delicious pain in my groin, the sound of Master’s voice as he told me how good I was, and the constant underlying need to come. Master let the end of the string hang and added clothespins to my balls next, seeming to fit them anywhere he could. My balls were covered with them, tons of tiny little pinching pains. Last, he placed five on the head of my cock, two on each side and one over my tip, pinching the slit closed, just above my PA.

  He set the bag aside, walking around me, leaving the clothespins in place. The pain from the pinching, on top of the hits I’d taken, on top of the burn, was awesome. My sounds had become one long moan, my hips rocking without my orders.

  I thought I was going to explode. I was close again, the edge of orgasm teasing me from the pain.

  Master must have seen it in my face. “No coming, boy. Not yet. I’m not quite done with you.” Then he chuckled darkly, flicking at the clothespins on my balls. I grunted in reaction and got another chuckle. “What goes on… must come off.”

  I think I let out a garbled version of “Master,” though I couldn’t be sure.

 

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