by Trent Evans
“It’s just bread”—he swallowed, grimacing—“Mistress.”
“So it is. It’s good for you. I have it made for you to eat. So, you’re going to eat it.”
“Can I have something else?”
“No. Not until you’ve proven you can follow directions and do as you’re told.”
He looked away, his lips twisting.
Ah, more defiance.
She grinned. “Here’s what’s going to happen, stubborn boy. You’re going to eat your bread — each and every time it’s put before you — or you’ll be chained to the floor and eat your bread from a dog bowl. You belong to me, and I’m not going to have my property wasting away because he decides he doesn’t feel like following directions.”
He didn’t answer, but his bound hands reached for the bread. He bit off a piece, chewing it as if it were broken glass.
“Good boy.”
She stood over him as he ate, a flick of her crop against his wrist prompting him to drink down all of his water. He was going to need it.
His eyes darted toward the sound of the cell door opening, his face paling. He’d already learned to associate that door with fear.
Good.
The more he looked to her for solace, for shelter, for protection, for comfort, the more she’d have him where she wanted him.
Darynn set down the large bucket, the soapy water sloshing, a small amount spilling onto the floor, glistening in the bright sunlight.
“What’s that?”
Darynn shook her head at him, giving him a roll of her eyes as she pulled the remote from her pocket. Pointing it toward the corner, the hum of a motor could be heard overhead, the swing of heavy chains could just be made out as they descended.
“No…” He backed away, the chains affixing his ankles to the steel bolt embedded in the concrete floor preventing him from going far.
Anna crouched down in front of him, using the flapper of the crop to raise his chin such that he had to meet her gaze. “I think we’re going to need to cure you of your use of that word.”
* * *
There was nothing quite as gorgeous as a muscular naked male body stretched to its limit in chains. Remarkably, Darynn hadn’t had to threaten Quinton with the Taser in order to get him bound fast to the chains that hung from the overhead winch. They’d had it installed over the shower area, not quite certain if they’d ever need it.
Darynn’s idea was genius though: it was the perfect place to do the evaluation of him. Normally, she’d have evaluated a new slave in her bedroom, or perhaps in a common area.
Here in Quinton’s dank, shadowed cell, it only reinforced his helplessness, the fact that Anna held all the reins.
Stepping away from his bound, silent form — Darynn had fixed the gag in place once his arms were secured overhead — Darynn activated the winch. His ribcage expanded faster and faster as the chains hoisted him higher. She stopped the winch when he was fully suspended above the floor, arms outstretched above him, his ankles, cuffed to floor chains, spread wide. His back was to them, and Darynn switched on another bank of warm incandescent overheads, ones they had yet to use, that shone down upon his tense, bound body, perfectly delineating every muscle, every vein, every part of his delicious, pleasingly helpless form.
He grunted something behind the gag, his hair whipping around as he tried to look back at them, but they ignored his protests. The tension was tolerable for a short time — the cuffs were supple and thick enough to distribute his weight safely — but soon enough he’d be one very unhappy slave. How he behaved during what was about to happen would determine how much torment he had to look forward to during the next hour or so.
“He may be a little shit, but he does have an ass on him,” Darynn said, grudgingly, giving it a hearty slap, the chains creaking as his body jerked. “Nice and round — but muscular. Just the way I like ‘em.”
Anna shook off the flash of possessiveness at the sight of her friend spanking Quinton’s ass.
Not the time for that.
His genitals, the scrotum slightly reddened, the testicles swollen, swung between his tense, quivering thighs. His quadriceps and hamstrings, while a little too lean now after his ill-advised mini-fast, would pack on the muscle soon once they began to exercise him vigorously. His legs were still quite powerful, but she could tell his general physique was one suited to putting on significant muscle now that his life of leisure and ease was but a distant memory.
“He’s gonna be a sore boy though,” Darynn said, touching one of the more livid cane marks decorating his buttocks. “You laced the shit out of him with these. Nice work.”
Anna was glad he couldn’t see her smile as he bellowed something into his gag.
“Just settle down, boy,” Anna said, stroking a hand down his hip. She cupped his vulnerable balls in her palm, and his body froze. She gave him a gentle — but pointed — squeeze. “Your best bet here is to be as obedient as you know how to be. It will hurt less. Understand me?”
He nodded vigorously but she fondled his balls a moment longer, luxuriating in how they felt between her fingers. She’d enjoy putting them through their paces when the time came. They were so full, so firm. She had no doubt, judging by his soft groan, that they were still quite sore from Ivy’s marathon edging session.
Poor Quinton.
They were going to stay that way for quite some time, unless he learned — and fast — to be a very, very good boy.
Even that might not get him the release he was already desperate for.
His back was quite broad, and very strong, something that seemed at odds with his generally more slender build. She’d be testing that too, the marks from his earlier whippings still not quite faded from his skin. The muscles of his shoulders, strong and defined, were perhaps his best feature, projecting youth, great strength, and classical masculinity. She ran her hands over them, loving the way they quivered and shook under her touch, the tension of the traction transmitting itself through every fiber of his sinews. She’d make sure to work these too, though for the duration, he’d probably get most of his shoulder exercise from crouching on the floor as he licked and sucked her clit.
All in good time, Anna.
“Where do you think is the best place for the tattoo?” Darynn said it as she stroked her chin, her words as nonchalant as if they were picking out a garden plot in which to plant corn.
“Haven’t decided yet.” The irritation she felt at the existing dragon tattoo across his back was something that amused her in an odd way. How he was marked was something only she was supposed to decide. She didn’t like that someone else had marked him, the possessiveness flaring within her once again. It wasn’t smart to entertain such thoughts but she couldn’t resist them.
A tattoo — a large one — was definitely in his future, but she hadn’t yet decided on the design most appropriate for him.
“You could brand him.” Darynn said it loud enough for him to hear and he jerked in his chains, snarling something against the gag. “Maybe your initials, one per cheek, just on the upper slope.” Darynn grinned at her. “You’d like looking at those while you took him, wouldn’t you?”
The imagery had her pussy already beginning to heat. Though extreme, she had seen it done on other slaves. She wouldn’t rule it out yet. His fear of it would be useful to her, even if she eventually decided against the branding.
“Interesting idea. I’ll have to think about that.” She nodded at Darynn. “Let’s have a look at his ass.”
“With pleasure.” Darynn clapped a hand to each of his well-whealed buttocks, and he jerked. “Now, you need to relax them, tough guy. We can’t get a good look unless you cooperate.”
“Do what she tells you, Quinton.” Anna’s nipples tightened as she spoke the words, drinking in the way his strong legs quivered with the tension, his buttocks clenched tight. “Open them.”
They waited for a second or two, then his muscular cheeks softened just enough to allow Darynn to yawn the
m apart. His anus was small and very tight.
“I can’t believe you got even the smallest plug in there. Definite virgin asshole on this one.” Darynn smacked him gently. “More — stop squeezing.”
He gave her a plaintive snarl, but he obeyed.
Fully spreading him open, they both looked upon his vulnerable opening, Anna’s mouth suddenly dry, her sex beginning to boil between her thighs. She loved a man’s ass, loved possessing it, loved making him feel in the most intimate way possible who held the reins.
“Next time you’re told to open your bottom, Quinton, you do it. No complaining, no delaying.” Anna moved closer, reaching out with a hand and tapping his cringing anus with her fingernail. “Your Mistress will never allow you to hide. There is nothing — absolutely nothing — that you won’t surrender to her. You may not understand what that really means yet, but I assure you, my stubborn boy, you will.”
“Want to take him now?” Darynn nodded toward the helpless bottomhole. “Maybe he needs to get a taste of what his new life is going to be? You can’t tell me you don’t want to fuck that ass. The virgins are so much fun.”
“Soon enough,” Anna said, caressing his hip. She already had plans for when and how to take his virginity — and rushing it wasn’t part of it. Making him fear it, dread it — and anticipate it — was as much a part of the act as finally forcing that tender anus to stretch around her strap-on. She’d had it made especially for him — and it wasn’t small.
“He’ll need the trainers first to get him nice and stretched out. Won’t be easy for him, but he has no choice if he’s going to serve me the way I want.” Anna smacked him, making him yelp. “Once he’s begging for something bigger, it’ll be time to fuck this tight little ass of his.”
She nodded at Darynn, her belly fluttering at the prospect of what lay ahead. The gruff blonde stooped to release the chains affixing his ankles to the floor bolts. “You kick me and you’ll pay for it,” she growled.
Fortunately for him, he didn’t test her.
Her friend spun him around to face them, the well-oiled chains overhead skirring softly as he turned. Darynn secured his ankle chains, pulling his legs tight once more.
His eyes were wide, his bright teeth clamping savagely into the gag. She couldn’t tell if his face twisted with rage or fear. It was probably both — which suited her just fine.
“Someone’s liking what’s happening,” Anna said, beaming up at him.
His cock was high and hard, the shaft red and inflamed from Ivy’s ruthless edging session. The thick veins along the length of his erection were angry, congested, the purple head flaring wide. Glistening precome was already wetting the tip, a line of it extending down from the tiny opening.
She stroked her fingers through the dark, silky curls at the base of his penis. “This will need to go — all of it.” She glanced at Darynn. “Is everything ready?”
“You want it all shaved?”
“Everything below his head, definitely.” Anna met his eyes. “He will hide nothing from me. Nothing.”
“Definitely too thin now,” Darynn muttered, running a hand up the rigid abdomen. His body shifted, as if to express his distaste at her touch.
Anna brought the crop up between his legs, his balls lolling upon the thin, black shaft. His eyes went even wider. “You will not flinch from her touch. You will treat her as you treat me, boy. You understand me?”
He didn’t say anything, and she bounced his balls on the crop, making him grunt.
“I’m waiting.”
He nodded then, dropping his head, his cheeks flushing crimson.
“God, I love his blush.” Darynn slapped his cock, sending it bounding, his thighs trying to bend, pulled up short by the short chains. “He’s ready to go off like a fountain. It’s got to hurt like hell though to be that hard after what Ivy did to him. I’ve edged my David before, and he says after a few hours, it feels like his balls are caught in a vise.”
“He doesn’t have any choice what his cock does. Which is good, because it’s not his anymore.” Anna smiled up at him, loving the way he couldn’t make eye contact with her. His shame made her pussy drip even more than his gorgeous naked body.
“Legs are going to need some work too.” Darynn slapped his thigh, the sound echoing in the cell, Quinton groaning. The outline of her palmprint went a white-yellow, then quickly pinkened upon his skin.
“Regular treadmill should help, but I have specific exercises for him.” Anna stroked his quivering thigh. “When I get done with you, you’re going to be like a thoroughbred horse, wanting nothing more than to obey my commands. These powerful legs all mine — serving me.”
“Poor bastard has no idea what’s ahead for him.”
Anna closed her hand around his hot, pulsing erection, giving it a hard squeeze. “A little fear and uncertainty is good for a slave.” She slowly moved her fist up the inflamed shaft, squeezing even harder as she went. Quinton threw his head back, his groan soul deep. When her fist reached just under the swollen head of his cock, a fat, glistening dollop of precome issued from the tiny slit, dropping to the floor, splatting against the concrete.
His cheeks reddened once more, and both women laughed.
“He produces a lot,” Darynn said, her lips curved in a wry grin. “Must’ve been a while since he’s emptied those big balls of his.”
“Going to be a while longer.” Anna drew close, pumping his cock slowly. “You can say goodbye to coming for the foreseeable future, boy. Until you learn how to obey, how to follow directions, how to please me, your balls are just going to continue to ache. Better get used to it.”
Her clit was so hard, it pulsed with the beat of her heart. She wanted to rub her pussy against those hard thigh muscles, mark him with her scent, her juices, but even that incidental contact might be too much for him.
He needed to learn — and she intended to help him do just that — that there were other ways for a slave to suffer for his Mistress.
And pain was only one of them.
He dropped his head back, his biceps flexing and tightening as he pulled in vain at the chains, her hand relentless as she worked him.
“Do you want to come, Quinton?”
He met her gaze and nodded his head, his eyes wide, hope and dread plain in their liquid depths.
She worried the slit of his head with her hard fingernail, his thigh muscles going rigid, his face wincing.
“And do you think your Mistress is going to allow you to come?”
For an instant, his eyes went even wider, the entirety of the whites visible, and she saw just a glimpse of the rage and defiance she hadn’t yet crushed entirely from him. She was glad to see it. For though she fully intended to break him in every sense of the word, she didn’t want to reduce him to a doormat, a meek, cowering dog. She wanted that fight — just as he needed to fight. She could already tell that about him. For all his twisted rage, his jaded, cynical, selfish worldview, inside he was still just a young man, a being with pure needs and desires — some of which he was only just now beginning to understand.
And somewhere in there he remained — that frightened little boy she got a glimpse of there in that jail house interrogation room all those many days ago.
That little boy was the real reason she’d taken the job, she knew that now. At the time, she’d told herself it was to avenge what he’d done to poor Genna. There was some of that too, but she knew others could have exacted that revenge as effectively as she could.
No, that moment in that room, with just the two of them, she’d seen it in his eyes, despite the cursing, the frustrated rage. She saw that pure, scared boy.
She wanted — even more than the vengeance, even more than the eye-popping sum Corddray paid her — to find him.
She would help that boy find a way out, a way to be good again, to do good again.
Letting go of his cock, she slapped it away, a string of precome arcing through the air and down to the concrete. He groaned once m
ore, defeated, the abject frustration pure in the deep tone, the way his head drooped, his hair concealing his blushing cheeks from their gazes.
“Poor thing,” Darynn cooed mockingly. “You know, I think he might need to empty those sore balls a little bit.”
“Too bad,” Anna intoned, her hands in her hips. “Let’s get him cleaned thoroughly, then shaved. Once he’s in a proper state, I’ll decide if he’s ready to proceed.”
The motor overhead hummed into life, and Quinton stirred in his bonds, the chains lowering him until his feet rested on the concrete.
“Want him all the way down?”
“No, that’s enough. Need to make sure every inch of him is clean.”
Then they both took up the sopping, soapy cloths and went to work on him, sudsing up those sleek, powerful muscles. Anna paused to squeeze and twist the tight, brown nipples, pleased to see that they were quite prominent — and judging by his moans, and the way the tendons at the base of his neck stood out as she crushed those tender buds between the tips of her fingers — very sensitive as well.
“Definitely going to need rings for these,” Anna murmured as she washed him. “Too cute not to take advantage of nipples as sweet as his are.”
“I have that thin strap Ivy’s master had made for her. She got permission from him to bring it with her out here.” Darynn winked. “Should be perfect for his nipples, I would think.”
Quinton shook his head vigorously, the gag muffling what sounded suspiciously like curses to Anna. She took hold of his testicles in her wet hand, the cloth in her other palm pressed to the rigid muscles of his belly.
“That wasn’t cursing, was it, boy?” Anna shook her head at him slowly, meeting his gaze. “We talked about that earlier. You are never to curse here. Ever.” She squeezed his balls firmly and he reared his head back. “Are we clear on that?”