Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  I made a long line next, weaving the white over the green. I wasn’t an artist, but I liked swirling the colors, making patterns. His breathing was a bit faster, but he was still mostly calm, which I liked. The wax was almost more of a massage than anything else, and though the oil conducted the heat some, none of it was hot enough to burn.

  I decorated his right nipple with red, pulling another gasp with it. Along his legs, I added another line, then mixed the colors on his chest a bit more using splatters and swirls. He was moaning steadily now, each new line or spot another bit of sensation. I was sure, blindfolded as he was, the feel was even sharper. His reactions were making my still-hard cock strain against my shorts. He was even more beautiful than usual as he writhed on the bed.

  After setting the candle down, I took a moment to strip out of my shorts and T-shirt. I had much more I wanted to do with him before we got to the sex, but the clothes were getting restrictive.

  I did let myself smirk as I picked up the blue candle. I got it in place, then glanced up at Kyle’s face as I tilted the glass. As the warm wax landed on his balls, he grunted loudly, his face a mask of surprise and need.

  After a pause to let more of the wax melt, I poured more over his sac until it was mostly covered. He was panting now, groaning as the wax hardened. But I wasn’t done.

  Looking over at the table, I debated colors and decided on red. Yet again, I got it in place, then turned my focus to his face as I poured, making a solid coating of the wax along the entire length of his cock. He rewarded me with a full whimper. His dick jumped, the wax solidifying, and precum beaded again at the tip.

  I set the candle down and picked up the camera I’d left on the table. I was sure he’d want to see this later on. He’d especially get a laugh over the blue wax on his balls, considering how much they probably hurt.

  Once I was satisfied I had the shots I wanted, I sat back down and exchanged the camera for the knife. I dragged the tip along the bare skin on Kyle’s arm, and he sucked in a breath.

  “M-Master?”

  “Hmmm?” Down the left and up the right.

  “Is… is that a knife?”

  “Mm-hmm,” I murmured. “What goes on must come off, boy.”

  He sucked in a breath.

  I pried the wax loose from his nipples first, without the knife. I worked carefully so I didn’t pull the rings too hard, though I let myself tug on them at least a little. The hard points seemed to be begging for something, so I leaned forward and blew slightly over them.

  Kyle moaned again, shifting on the bed.

  “Hold still. Don’t want me to move this the wrong way, do you?” I asked, touching him again with the tip of the knife.

  He made an uh-uh sound in the back of his throat and stilled. I loved watching his muscles strain as he fought to keep from moving. His breathing turned harsh, and I made a quiet soothing sound and brushed the hair back from his forehead.

  When he’d settled, I slipped the edge of the butter knife under the top part of the wax and pulled it along his skin, gently working the wax free. Each piece I peeled away left light red, very sensitive skin behind.

  I worked steadily on his chest, stomach, and legs, then dragged the knife along his inner thigh, grinning as he trembled at the thought of it being so close to his genitals. I teased his perineum with it, ran it around the base of his cock and balls, then over the wax covering his sac. He started panting harder when I slid it under the edge of the blue on his balls.

  He let out a much louder whimper as I peeled this wax away slowly, letting it pull slightly on the skin. The oil didn’t let it stick too much, but apparently I’d missed a few spots. All the better.

  He let out a breath when I finished his balls and cupped them. They were drawn up, and I squeezed a little, making sure he felt the vulnerable position as much as possible. I let go of them, then turned, finally, to the wax on his cock.

  I teased his length first with the knife like I had his balls. I traced the ridge, slid it lightly over the tip, watching it jump and Kyle’s muscles quiver as he tried to hold still. Finally, I took pity on him and slipped the tip under the last of the wax. This came off easily, leaving Kyle’s length deep red, but from arousal, not the wax.

  Precum dribbled continuously from his jumping cock, landing in a sticky puddle on his stomach. I teased the slit with a fingernail, then played for a long moment with his PA piercing. I brushed my fingers over the swollen length, listening to his sounds turn into a full whine.

  Leaving Kyle to calm down for a moment, I picked up the paintbrush. The supersoft bristles running along his inner thigh elicited a new sound from his throat, sort of a combination of a grunt and whimper. Not what he’d been expecting. I grinned.

  I teased each of the previously waxed spots with the brush until his sounds got louder. Then I set it down and lifted the lid on the bucket. I picked up a piece of ice and held it over a nipple. When the freezing water dripped, Kyle hissed and his nipple hardened further. I leaned forward while he panted and I licked it, giving him the cold/hot contrast. Kyle’s back arched, and I did the same to the other nipple, earning the same sounds. His reactions were going to be my undoing. I didn’t know how much more I had in me. I needed to be buried inside him soon.

  I dragged the ice over most of the same places I had the brush, except his cock and balls. I had other plans for those. By the time I’d visited most of his chest, as well as his inner thighs, he was once more writhing under me.

  I tossed the ice back in the bucket and shifted until I knelt between Kyle’s thighs. I bent forward, bracing myself on the bed with one hand, and lifted his hard cock with a finger on the other.

  “Don’t come,” I commanded in a whisper. Then with my eyes fixed to his face, I swallowed his sensitive cock in one move.

  “Oh fuck, Master!” he shouted, bucking.

  I held his hips down and sucked, then slid my mouth up, dragging my tongue along the vein on the underside. Bobbing my head a few times, I sucked as I pulled up, running my tongue over it as I went back down.

  “Master! Please, Master, oh God, I…. Please!” he babbled.

  He thrashed under me, his words devolving into incoherent begging noises. His arousal thrilled me and I loved how just gone with it he was. I continued to work him over for another few moments until his sounds turned truly pathetic and pleading, before letting go and sitting up. His balls had drawn up so tight, they nearly disappeared. His bright red cock stood up from him, so hard. Precum ran continuously along his cock to pool at the base.

  My own dick jumped and I gave in. I needed him too badly.

  After untying his ankles and lifting his legs, I snatched up the lube from the table and coated myself quickly. Then I carefully worked out the plug and set it aside. The sight of his stretched hole, still nice and open, brought a soft moan from me.

  My self-restraint was gone. I entered him, burying myself in one thrust, groaning as his heat surrounded me. He shouted as I bottomed out, my hips hitting his still-sore ass.

  Without hesitating, I thrust hard, need almost overwhelming me. His ass gripped my cock tightly, even having been plugged for so long. His moans filled the quiet room and pushed me toward orgasm faster than I wanted. I wasn’t going to last, too worked up over the scene and his beautiful reactions.

  I shifted, lifting his legs higher and putting them over my shoulders to give myself slightly better access. It allowed me to go even deeper, and within a few thrusts, I knew I was going to lose it. That only got worse when he shouted as I hit his prostate.

  Then he flexed his muscles, squeezing my dick, and it was all over.

  “Oh fuck, boy!” I shouted as the climax hit me hard. My thrusts turned erratic, all rhythm gone as pleasure flew through me, streaking along my nerve endings and pulling my cum from my balls to fill my boy. I still hadn’t gotten used to that thought, knowing I was leaving my cum behind, and I thrust hard once more, giving him another spurt.

  I held there for a long mo
ment, listening to Kyle’s frustrated, needy moans as I worked to gather my wits. I panted hard, my heart pounding as I came down. Finally, I sat back, lowering Kyle’s legs and picking the plug up. As soon as I pulled out, I pushed it back in place and let Kyle’s feet touch the mattress.

  I turned the bedside light off so it wouldn’t blind him, then unhooked Kyle’s wrists and removed the blindfold. I settled in next to him, and he rolled into me, burying his face in my chest. He trembled with restrained need, desperate whimpers leaking from him, and I held him, running my hand over his back to soothe. I whispered praise into his ear, kissing him softly on the top of his head.

  He rocked, rubbing his cock against me, but I held his hips back, keeping him from any sort of friction. He whined a little louder at that, but I reminded myself I was doing the right thing by denying him and helping him focus for the weekend. His orgasm on Monday would be spectacular, and that thought gave me the strength to keep him in place until he calmed.

  Eventually his breathing slowed, and I let him move in against me. His cock was still hard, tip still wet, but he didn’t try to rock.

  “You’ve done so beautifully, boy. Made me so very happy.” I kissed his forehead, and he looked up at me.

  I could see a struggle going on in him, and I waited to see what he’d say. If he called his safeword, if he asked for his orgasm, I’d push him onto his back, go down on him, and suck him until he lost his mind and his balls drained completely.

  “Thank you, Master,” he said, instead.

  My smile spread wide. “Thank you, boy. I’m so proud of you. I know how frustrated you are, know how hard that must have been, and you did so well.”

  His breathing slowed even more, and he settled in against me, kissing my chest. “I love you, Master,” he murmured against my skin, and my heart skipped a beat. He didn’t often say it first, and here, now, when he was so frustrated, it filled me with awe.

  “I love you too, boy,” I replied, tilting his chin and kissing him, keeping it soft. He didn’t need any more stimulation right now. When I pulled back, I studied him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Horny,” he said, and I grinned with him. I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it. “I know. Good boys should always be.”

  I laughed, kissing him again. “Other than that, are you okay?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. Let’s clean up in here, then go get a shower and get the rest of the wax off you.”

  Kyle nodded and yawned.

  “Then bed, I think.”

  His grin turned sheepish. “Sorry, Master.”

  I shook my head. “No need, boy. You’ve done a lot tonight. Let’s get going so you can sleep.”

  AS I settled in on the couch the next morning after breakfast, I watched with amusement as Kyle tried to find a way to sit comfortably. He still had the plug in—it hadn’t come out except for me to fuck him last night and to clean him out this morning. And his ass, sore from the night before, had still received its maintenance spanking. His pretty cock was also quite hard, adding to the problem, and if that wasn’t enough, I had no doubt his balls were starting to feel blue, as full as they were.

  Right after we woke up, I’d had him suck me off. He’d had very impressive morning wood, which had only gotten worse with the blow job. Then the spanking before going into the shower, where, after cleaning him out, I got his brain firmly back on sex by making sure his cock was very clean, pushing him to the edge of orgasm three separate times.

  And then we’d had breakfast: him on his knees again, eating from my hand. It was just as erotic as the night before. Even I was sporting wood again as we’d cleaned up.

  Now, I settled in on the sofa, Kyle at my feet. I had a nice cup of coffee I’d share with him now and again, and a copy of The Hobbit to read. Kyle finally seemed to find a way to sit, partially on his hip, with his legs off to the side. His cock stood proudly up from his lap as if to make sure I saw he was still plenty aroused.

  He laid his head on my knee, and I reached out, brushing at his hair. It was quickly becoming a favorite activity of mine, touching him like that. His hair was soft and silky, and I itched to touch it even if I didn’t have an excuse like this one. As I played with it, he sighed and closed his eyes.

  I opened the book and found the first page. With one more brush of Kyle’s hair, I started to read. “In a hole in the ground….”

  I’d come up with this idea the day before as I was getting the playroom ready. I’d been tossing around different options for activities we could do over the weekend. I wanted the things we did to either be something that allowed him to focus on me or be sexual. I was well aware we couldn’t be sexual all weekend. As much as I liked the idea of keeping him thoroughly frustrated, I knew there were limits.

  So, this popped into my head. He’d be able to focus on my voice, touch me, have me touch him, and hopefully, give him the chance to sink a little further into his submissive mindspace. When I wasn’t turning pages, I kept my hand on his head. I played with his hair or just rested it there, keeping that connection.

  I didn’t try to sing the dishes song. I wasn’t the most musical person in the world. But I’d always managed the Dwarves’ song about their home well enough, with my voice as deep as it was, and I sang the couple of verses the way they did in the movie. Kyle seemed very happy with that, so I was glad I’d done it—and skipped the rest of the long song. I loved Tolkien, but the man could go on.

  We made it through three chapters before we needed a break. He asked permission to use the bathroom, which thrilled me that he remembered. I took the time to get a fresh cup of coffee, as well. Then we settled in for more of Bilbo’s adventures.

  By the time lunch rolled around, the Dwarves had made it out of Goblin-town and I had had enough of reading. I fed Kyle bites of ham sandwich, and when it was over, changed out his plug for a new one, then popped in the movie version of what we’d read before lunch.

  I grinned at Kyle’s reaction when I hit the button on the remote I held and started the plug vibrating. He actually yelped first, then moaned. I spent the entire movie watching him rather than the screen, randomly turning the plug on and off. He never knew when to expect it, so he was always caught off guard.

  He was also forced, then, to keep his attention on me.

  I was evil. I knew it. But I also knew Kyle loved it as much as I did.

  The end result was that he spent the afternoon hard. I don’t think I let his cock go soft for more than a few minutes before I turned it on, arousing him all over again. He struggled for about half the movie to keep his hands on his thighs. I took pity on him and offered to hook the cuffs together behind his back. He thanked me profusely when I did.

  Of course, I’d also decided to put the leather cock ring on him too. And for good measure, I’d used a spreader bar, pushing his legs far apart and forcing him to sit on his sore ass. His cock didn’t go soft the rest of the movie.

  By the time I turned off the movie and went to warm up dinner, he was whimpering quite pathetically. And making me more than a little crazy.

  So, I fucked him before I made dinner. Threw him over the end of the couch, making sure his cock couldn’t touch anything, and then I pulled the plug and filled his hole with no other prep than to slick up my cock. He was so tight; it took no time at all for me to come. I filled his ass with my spunk, then quickly returned the plug.

  I’m not sure it helped him any, but it definitely made me feel better.

  Chapter 18

  Kyle

  MY BALLS felt like they were going to explode. Or fall off. Or something.

  If I hadn’t been so focused on Master, I would have been completely nuts. But the fact that I was able to concentrate on him meant it wasn’t too bad. I was pretty sure, though, they were starting to take on a slightly blue tinge.

  Master had been thoroughly frustrating over the last twenty-four hours. After he’d fed me bits of stir-fry for dinner last night, we’d spen
t the evening with him reading to me again. Thankfully, he’d left my cock alone, but listening to his deep voice, feeling him against me, and having his hand in my hair were enough to keep me extremely aware of him.

  Not just focused on him—I’d stopped thinking about anything but him by the time we’d climbed out of the shower Friday night. I’d been fully centered on him since, not even thinking about my own body, with the exception of my hard cock. But even that made me think about him because he was the reason for its state. I loved it. It had, thus far, been such an amazing experience. I hoped we’d get to repeat it. Even having to ask to go to the bathroom, I didn’t mind. I’d lost my humiliation over having him near me when I did, so it didn’t even bother me a little.

  I knew we couldn’t do this all the time. I was sure Master had to go through a lot to keep me like this. There was no doubt Master had put quite a bit of planning into it. At some point, I’d have to find a way to express my gratitude. For now, it was by focusing on him and my submission.

  I’m not sure I went soft at all overnight. Master had fucked me again before we went to sleep, returning the plug I’d been without very little since Friday. He had, of course, not let me come. So I’d fallen asleep with my cock hard.

  And awakened hard. I’d proceeded to give Master his morning blow job again—I rather liked waking him like that—which only served to frustrate me, since I enjoyed giving them. Then we’d gotten up and he’d given me my maintenance spanking. I found I liked that too. Not nearly as hard as punishment, but enough to make my ass sensitive. I liked having that extra reminder when I sat or knelt. I’m pretty sure it was a big part of me not breaking any rules the day before.