Quinton's Crucible

by Trent Evans

  You’re in serious fucking trouble here, Quinton.

  * * *

  Anna’s pussy was so wet she feared a bead of her arousal was going to course down her leg at any moment.

  His strong legs stretched toward the sky, spread so wide that the tendons at his inner thighs stood taut, the cords of the hamstrings tight, trembling. His cock was hard, pointing back up toward his chest, the thick organ moving with each frantic beat of the frightened male’s heart. His balls, generous and full, hung below, the perineum glistening with sweat. The livid purple-red marks from his strapping could clearly be seen, wrapping about the curves of his muscular buttocks. A few of the marks — the swollen welts quite visible in his spread cleft — attested to the last few strokes where she intentionally whipped in, catching him with the vicious tip of the leather. The anus was a dark, cringing whorl, looking so tender, so vulnerable. The urge to take him there was so strong, she nearly succumbed to it.

  First things first.

  She eased her nails through the dark hair growing upon his legs, loving the texture against her skin. It would have to go though.

  Darynn rolled the stool over, taking a seat next to the cart, her eyes level with Quinton’s genitals. “What are we doing with him?”

  “I want him bare from the neck down, but we can work on that as we have time. For now though, let’s get that cock and those big, disobedient balls nice and smooth first.”

  Darynn was already applying the shaving cream to his mound, Quinton watching her closely, the whites of his eyes clearly visible.

  He froze as Darynn produced the straight razor, Anna stepping closer to watch.

  His chest rose and fell rapidly as she scraped his skin with the blade, removing every trace of his dark, wiry pubic hair. Then she cupped his balls, and they pulled up tight.

  “Going to be a lot easier if you relax, tough guy,” Darynn said, wiping off the blade with a cloth.

  “We can wait, Quinton.” Anna stroked his already sweating brow, bending over him. “But it’s better for you to obey us. You don’t want her to nick you.”

  He leaned his head back, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, then another, his muscled chest rising and falling dramatically, the outline of the ribs and the bunched intercostal muscles at his side clearly visible. She couldn’t resist the adorable well of his navel, tickling it with her fingertip, loving the feel of his helpless flesh under her touch.

  “This should work,” Darynn murmured. “He’s got better control than a lot of virgins do.”

  “I’m not a virgin,” he said, his voice tense.

  Darynn chuckled. “You are for what your Mistress has planned for you. Now”—Darynn pulled the smooth, delicate skin of his scrotum tight, easing the gleaming blade slowly down through the frothy cream.

  His breath came in frantic, staccato bursts as she worked, but the blonde proved her expertise, shearing him completely smooth in mere minutes.

  “Astringent?” Darynn looked up at her, her gaze dancing with anticipatory glee.

  “He was a good boy during his shaving.” Anna met his eyes. “Just water this time.”

  “You’re no fun,” Darynn muttered.

  “Knowing my stubborn boy here, it’s only a matter of time before he earns himself that particular treatment.” Anna patted the hard, defined muscles of his flat belly. “Isn’t that right, Quinton?”

  His jaw clenched. “No… Mistress.”

  “Case in point,” Anna said, barely holding in her laughter. She could’ve punished him for that little defiance, but the truth was, she loved it.

  She often thought of how Greg was, when she had him under her thumb. He was exceedingly good at playing the part, at obeying her — even when it hurt like hell. But with him, it was always… not quite him. There was always a reserve, that part of his psyche that she knew could never fully embrace submitting to her.

  With Quinton, the only reserve he had left was primitive survival instinct, his trepidation at what she might do to him next painted clearly upon his face. He hid nothing from her — because he didn’t know how anymore.

  Anna moved down to where Darynn sat, the woman wiping away the last remnants of the white foam.

  “What do you think?”

  “I like the color — his balls are almost red.” Anna laid the back of her hand against his testicles, feeling the smooth, warm skin.

  “Sometimes the scrotum gets a little inflamed after it’s shaved. He’ll live.” Darynn set the razor back on the tray. “I can do his legs whenever you’re ready.”

  “I want you to do the perineum and asshole too.”

  “With pleasure,” Darynn said, flashing her an eager grin as she took up the razor again, extruding a generous dollop of foam onto two fingers. “She coming soon? She’s gonna miss all the fun.”

  Quinton’s head rose. “W-who?”

  “You be quiet for me, boy,” Anna said, taking her phone from her pocket.

  She’d texted back. Any minute now.

  Good.

  Anna watched in silence as the straight razor scraped delicately at the tender stretch of skin between his scrotum and his anus. Darynn’s dexterous fingers plucked playfully at the ridge of skin running down the middle, and Quinton gasped. “Sensitive there.”

  “Poor boy.”

  Both women laughed as Darynn continued.

  Recharging her fingers with more shaving cream, she placed a palm over one buttock, Quinton hissing, the chains above him swaying gently as he tensed.

  “Still pretty sore. You did damn good work.”

  Anna grinned at her friend. “I see his ass and I just want to bite into it — or whip it until he screams.”

  “A girl after my own heart.”

  “Jesus Christ,” the bound male whispered.

  “We can always gag you if you feel like you can’t follow directions,” Anna said in a light, playful tone. They both knew she’d be anything but playful if he continued to defy her.

  “No, Mistress.”

  Spreading his cleft further apart, Darynn applied the foam, coating his opening well. There wasn’t a tremendous amount of hair there, but this was about more than aesthetic appeal. This was an excellent exercise in exerting raw power over a slave, in imprinting, in a very concrete way, that his body was no longer his own, that she would touch, and enjoy — and punish — any part of him that she wished. Whenever she wished.

  Moreover, she wanted to continue to reorient his thinking toward what would please her. She enjoyed a smooth male slave’s body, loved the way the marks of her lash were so much more vivid, the way oil gleamed on that hairless skin, the way his pain was that much more intense during a punishment.

  “Be very still,” Darynn said softly, the tip of the blade circling around the very center of his anus. He grunted twice as she worried it with the tip, ensuring every last hair was removed. Then she scraped the foam from either side of his cleft, leaving it smooth and gleaming.

  “Some of the welts got deep in here. Those must’ve killed.”

  “I didn’t mean to get quite that far between his cheeks, but the end result sure is pretty.”

  Darynn laughed at that, Quinton’s face flushing pink.

  Anna touched his cock, batting the hot length back and forth with her fingertips, making sure he felt her nails across the delicate, veined skin of the shaft. “Still hard as a rock. Very interesting. I wonder what might make this cock deflate, horny boy.”

  “Let me come.”

  She wasn’t sure he’d said the words, at first, her question a teasing rhetorical one. With a dramatic sigh — and a knowing roll of the eyes from Darynn — Anna met his defiant gaze, her hands poised on her hips.

  “Guess you want that gag after all.”

  “No! I-I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

  But she wasn’t even listening anymore, strolling over to the large cabinet inset into the wall at the side of the cross. She’d had it put in when Greg was still hers, the handiness of having an
entire array of implements at a mere arm’s length something she loved.

  Touching her lip, she perused the items, the display one of pain, degradation, and discipline. Plucking the black bit gag from its rack, she closed the heavy cabinet door.

  He’d turned his head to watch her, and his gaze tracked her every step as she returned to him, standing over his head such that she would have looked upside down from his viewpoint.

  “Now, I want you to open up — but not to talk this time.” She poked a fingernail against his cheek, and his blush deepened to crimson. “I’ve had about enough of giving you orders you think you’re too good to follow. Maybe some time thinking about it in blessed silence will clear your mind regarding the value of doing as you’re told. Or maybe it won’t. Either way, I won’t have to listen to you run that mouth, disobedient boy.”

  She took hold of his hair, immensely thankful at that moment for deciding against shaving his head too. While she loved the psychological shock value for the slave of a smooth, shaved head, she loved even more the ability to take hold of his hair and use it like a rein to control him.

  He reared up in his chains, trying to twist away. She squeezed her fist in his locks, hard, and he cursed, wincing, his mouth opening slightly. It was enough.

  Forcing the black bit between his teeth, she gathered the straps and hauled down on them, seating the leather covered dowel deep in his mouth, the corners of his lips pulling back.

  He made a surprised, angry sound, but she shook him hard by the hair. “Keep fighting and next time I coat that dowel in something you won’t appreciate pressed against your tongue. Now, be still.”

  Sagging back down in his chains, his body swinging slowly, he reluctantly obeyed. Tying off the straps at the back of his head, she smiled down at him, his eyes wide, anger flashing in them, lips caught in a tormented rictus.

  “I didn’t want to do that — but I have to admit that’s a good look for you, boy.”

  “Finally, some fucking quiet,” Darynn muttered.

  Anna walked down to where her friend still sat on the stool. “Open him up again.”

  Darynn used both hands to wrench apart his buttocks. Quinton grunted against his gag, squeezing his ass shut.

  “Let her look at you, boy, or you’re going to have the cane to go along with your gag.” Anna smacked the outside of his thigh. “Do it.”

  He shook his head though, a deep furrow at his brow, his white teeth savagely chewing at the bit, gaze flashing his defiance.

  “Have it your way,” Anna said with a sigh, her nipples already hard, the lips of her sex slick and hot in anticipation. She was surprised at the surge of sadistic eagerness to punish him again. She wondered if the bite of the cane across the back of his thighs would do anything about his arousal. In most submissive men, it did, the sharp, biting pain temporarily cooling their ardor.

  But for Quinton? She wasn’t so sure — and it wasn’t just because he’d been ruthlessly, systematically, denied release since they’d kidnapped him so many days ago.

  Plucking the black and red striped composite cane from the cabinet, she took up station to his left, placing the slim rod against the vulnerable flesh of his thighs. She tapped him just at the join where they met his well-whealed buttocks, careful to avoid the lowest of his previous marks. She intended to hurt him — a lot — but she had no need to brutalize the stubborn male.

  Not yet anyway.

  “When you’re told to open that ass — when you’re told to do anything — you’ll do it.” Anna snapped the cane against his thighs. The muscles clamped tight, a white-ivory line springing up across his flesh. Then it filled in with a deep red as he reared up in his chains, his curses muffled by the gag.

  “Nice shot,” Darynn said, watching intently.

  Tapping him just above the first line, Anna held the cane against him, taking aim. “You are to obey, Quinton. Nothing else matters here. Obey, always.”

  She caned him again, the stroke harder this time, and he jerked in his bonds, his thighs whispering together as he tried to cope with the clawing, burning pain sinking into his thighs.

  “Not so fun on the thighs, is it?” Anna used the tip of the cane to prod his testicles, moving them to and fro in his smooth sac. She snapped the cane gently against the still hard cock lolling above them. “Seems everything excites you lately, even pain. Insatiable boy.”

  He rattled off a rapid fire succession of grunting and harsh, garbled curses then, making both women laugh. The man was definitely still spirited.

  Thank God.

  “This will be the last one — if you can decide to be a good boy. But I’m going to make this the hardest.”

  Not waiting for a defiant reply, she sliced in once more across the middle of the hamstrings, a welt swelling and coloring as soon as she pulled the composite rod away from his punished flesh. He yelled against his bit then, his eyes squeezed shut, his face flushing red. He shook violently for a moment, to the accompaniment of the chains rattling together. His feet twisted above him, the muscles of his thighs twitching.

  “Had enough, stubborn man?” Anna sauntered back to the cabinet, dropping the cane back into its display stand inside.

  Darynn’s fingers tested the far end of the inflamed swollen wheal left behind by the last stripe. “Pretty raw where the tip bit in. Love it.”

  “Maybe it will wake him up,” Anna said coolly, bending low over him, her lips but inches from his face. She waited until he met her gaze, his cheeks flushed, sweat pooling at the hollow of his throat. “You ready to be good for us?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, his throat working, then met her gaze again. His nod was so subtle, she wasn’t sure he’d done it at first.

  Beaming down at him, she touched his cheek. Watching him for a long, silent moment, she drew close and pressed her lips to his sweaty forehead, her kiss lingering, her joy at his surrender flooding through her again, her sex a sopping, seething mess.

  Going to be time to change out the panties soon.

  Moving back to where Darynn sat, she nodded. “Open him.”

  This time he didn’t resist at all, allowing his buttocks to be spread obscenely wide, his freshly shaved anus looking so vulnerable — and so inviting — clenching and relaxing repeatedly.

  “He’s still really, really tight. What do you think?”

  “We haven’t really evaluated him yet.”

  Anna flipped over another section of cloth on the table, revealing a wide array of phalluses, some glass, some steel, along with a couple of thick, flexible, dark rubber dongs. Those seemed to be particularly embarrassing to many male submissives — though she had no real understanding of why. The effect was what she cared about — the whys of it really didn’t matter.

  “Let’s use the graduated one — get an idea for what he can handle.” Anna plucked up one of the glass phalluses, the tip starting quite narrow, then steadily thickening as it went down the shaft, the base quite stout, a width few subs could tolerate. At regular intervals, in raised numbers, were the measurements denoting the circumference of the glass, a concrete confirmation of the sub’s increasing, gasping discomfort as the glass dildo sank ever deeper into his helpless body.

  “That’s a good one, right there.” Darynn pressed the glass head to his anus, and he tensed up. “Relax, the tip is very small. You’ll be fine.”

  Anna smiled at the way Darynn conveniently neglected to mention that it was a graduated probe, the diminutive tip deviously deceptive.

  Charging the glass with a slick gloss of lubricant, Darynn slapped a dollop of it on his anus, rubbing it in brusquely.

  “Here it comes, boy,” Anna said, her heart beating faster, as Darynn touched the glass to his cringing opening one more.

  Pressing forth, the length eased in, Darynn stopping periodically to allow him to adjust and open wider. She pressed again, and Quinton gasped.

  “Stop tightening,” Darynn muttered, squeezing the base of his thigh. “Push down, just like w
hen you have to void. Push, push.”

  “You can do this, Quinton,” Anna said softly, her clit so hard, it pulsed between her thighs. “You’re going to learn to take all kinds of things in this tight ass of yours, so you’d better get used to this. It doesn’t have to hurt if you cooperate though.”

  “Come on,” Darynn growled, giving him a light slap at his thigh. “Take a deep breath and push.”

  His plaintive groan made Anna grin wide. Forcing a male to confront this for the first time was one of the very sweetest things on earth. It never, ever, got old.

  The fact that it was this particular stubborn, defiant, formerly arrogant male, only made it that much better.

  Little rape-y, don’t you think?

  Those distinctions had long ago started to blur when it came to Quinton. She had every intention of making him experience everything whether he wanted to or not, but there was a challenge, a unique allure to making him surrender to it, bending his will utterly to hers.

  Anna wanted him to want it, to want that surrender, that vulnerability, that subjugation.

  She wanted him to give her everything a man possibly had to give.

  Even his soul?

  “Why not?” she murmured to herself.

  He groaned then as the glass widened further, Darynn backing off then easing forward methodically, mercilessly.

  “Come on, push out. Take the glass, boy.” Darynn barked, slapping his thigh again, much harder this time. His legs tightened, and he snarled against the hated bit.

  “Do it, Quinton,” Anna said. “Push as hard as you can. Breathe through it, relax everything and let it in.”

  Pushing another inch, his anus spread wide around the phallus, the sensitive opening reduced to a thin pink ring swallowing down the glass.

  He groaned loudly, the cords of his well-whealed hamstrings standing out in stark relief.

  “Think that’s it for now,” Darynn said, disappointment clear in her voice. She slipped the phallus from his ass, shaking her head as she looked closely at it. “Yep, got just past the third mark. Definitely a virgin.”