by L. A. Witt
“Ready?” I asked with a grin.
“Yes.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Fuck…”
I picked up the remote. As I slowly turned the dial, the motor buzzed to life, and Rick whimpered. Whether from the vibration, or if he was anticipating, I had no idea, but the sound went straight to my balls.
The machine’s arm started slow, sliding the dildo into Rick’s ass at almost glacial speed.
He tensed, sucking in a breath.
I touched his shoulder. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Feels…” He moaned as the toy slid all the way in, and when the machine started to withdraw, he squirmed as much as the ropes allowed. “Fuck.”
“Tell me. How does it feel?”
“It feels…” He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as I increased the speed. “It feels amazing.”
“Good.”
While the machine fucked Rick, I undressed, making absolutely sure I was well within his line of sight the whole time. His gaze fixed on my cock, he curled and straightened the fingers of his free hand, and he drew his tongue across his lower lip.
Naked and very, very ready, I paused beside him. Before letting myself get too carried away, I checked his feet and fingers. “Still have feeling? Nothing tingling?”
“Nothing tingling.” He gazed up at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Plenty of feeling.”
I nodded and came around to his head. “Turn toward me.”
He did, his hair rustling on the vinyl headrest. I guided my cock to his mouth, and he parted his lips without the slightest hesitation. In fact, he didn’t just passively take me. He tightened his lips around my cock, ran his tongue all over the shaft and, when he could, the head. I caressed his cheek and jaw, loving the sensation of muscles moving to accommodate me as I slid in and out of his eager mouth.
I rocked back and forth, fucking his mouth at the same speed the machine fucked his ass, and I could barely breathe as I watched him. Especially since he was quite obviously turned on as he strained against his restraints, breathing rapidly through his nose as he took two dicks at once. Some guys didn’t stay hard while they were tied, or while they were bottoming, but he was fully erect. Even more so now that he was blowing me. Subs like him drove me wild—he was as turned on by pleasing me as he was by being pleasured himself. The kind of sub I wanted to tease and torment all night long, and who I could fuck like mad, and his eyes and his moans would say, “More, more, more!” Exactly the kind of man I wasn’t about to lose by spending our entire relationship in my office. No, I fully intended to give Rick a night he wouldn’t forget, and make it the first of many.
I ran my thumbnail around his nipple, drawing another whimper out of him. “You sound like you want to come. Do you want to come, Rick?”
He moaned around my cock.
“You do sound like you want to come.”
Another moan.
“I’m going to let you come, but not yet. First, you’re going to count to twenty. Slowly.” I withdrew my cock from his mouth. “And when you reach twenty, you can come. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Start counting.”
“One.” He licked his lips. “Two.”
“Good.” I ran a fingertip down the center of his chest, toward his very, very erect dick.
Rick moaned, squeezing his eyes shut.
“You haven’t lost count al—”
“Three.” His hands tightened into fists. “Four. Five.”
“Slow down.” I teased his balls with my fingertips. “Remember I said to count slowly.”
“S-sorry.” He paused, holding his breath for a moment. “Six.”
I cupped his balls, pressing two fingers beneath them, and his helpless moan made me grin.
“Seven,” he slurred. He exhaled hard as I kept teasing him, and groaned as he said, “Eight.”
I took my hand off his balls. He swallowed—relief? Frustration? Could’ve been anything.
“Nine.” He swept his tongue across his lips. “Ten.”
“Good.” I leaned down, and added, “Keep counting.”
And just as he murmured, “Eleven,” I took his thick cock in my mouth.
“Oh shit…” He released a strangled sound, and his whole body tensed like he wanted to fuck my mouth, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move at all, and even if he could, he didn’t dare because I’d forbidden it.
“T-twelve.” He followed it with a string of profanity, and then managed to slur, “Thir’een.”
I lifted my head. “Clearly, Rick.”
He swept his tongue across his wet lips again, squirming as the machine kept fucking him and I kept stroking him. “Thirteen.”
“Good.”
He smiled and then closed his eyes. “Fourteen.”
I leaned down again and swallowed his cock until he just pushed my gag reflex.
“Fif…fifteen.”
I slid my hand over his balls. As I gently teased the soft skin with featherlight touches, his dick stiffened in my mouth. The faint taste of salt made my own balls tighten.
Not yet, Rick. Still five more numbers.
“S-sixteen. Shit.” He was trembling even harder now, the ropes creaking with every movement, and for a moment, I was sure he was going to lose it, that I’d have to punish him, but then he groaned. “Seventeen.”
God, I loved it when a man could control himself like this. When he could get right to the edge and stay there, disciplined even when he wanted nothing more than to let go.
“Eighteen.”
I took my hand off his balls and felt for the machine’s controller.
“Nine—holy shit!” Despite the ropes, his hips jerked and his legs twitched as the machine picked up speed. His dick could not possibly have gotten any harder between my lips, and I envied the dildo for being in his ass right then—he must have been insanely tight as he fought to stay in control.
“Nineteen. Nineteen. Fuck!” The words came out as sobs. Tortured, trembling, ragged, delicious little sobs.
I squeezed his cock just a little harder.
“T-twent—”
Semen flooded my tongue. His whole body jerked again, as much as the restraints would allow, and he kept slurring, “Twenty…twenty…twenty…” as he came hard in my mouth.
As he started to relax, I lifted off him. He sighed, eyes squeezed shut, and for a moment, the only sound was the steady whirring of the machine that still steadily fucked him.
I slowed the machine and then stopped it, but didn’t pull the toy free yet. Then I came around, gently turned his head toward me and pushed my cock into his mouth. He opened willingly, moaning softly as he accepted every inch I gave him. I pulled out a little, then pushed back in.
“You did good,” I whispered, stroking his hair as I slowly fucked his mouth. “Most people don’t last beyond twelve. Should’ve…known you were controlled enough.” I rocked my hips faster as the edges of my vision darkened. “Might have to come up with something more challenging.”
Rick groaned around my cock, and God knew if it was a sound of arousal or “oh shit,” but either way, it was fucking hot. I gripped his hair and thrust between his lips, careful not to choke him, especially as my orgasm rapidly closed in.
“Might have to play with that machine more too,” I breathed. “Watching you lie there helpless, and getting fucked, I could do that all damned night.”
This time, he whimpered, and that was all I needed. I held his hair tighter and cursed through grinding teeth, clinging to what little focus I had left so I wouldn’t force myself too far into his throat as I came. He kept me coming too—swirling his tongue around the head of my cock, groaning as he swallowed every drop—until I finally had to pull out just so I could breathe again.
He swept his tongue across his lips as he gazed up at me with those beautiful eyes.
“Fuck, your mouth is awesome.” I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You were amazing tonight. We’re done.”
He releas
ed his breath, and the karabiner tumbled from his fingers. “Thank you.”
I kissed him again, this time gently on the lips, and murmured, “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Chapter Twenty-One
After a shower together—I didn’t trust his legs to hold him up quite yet—we got into bed. Rick downed a bottle of water, and then we both dozed for a little while. This was the kind of exhaustion I didn’t mind. The bone-deep heaviness from work was a bitch, but postcoital fatigue? Joints still aching from every motion? Yeah, I could cope with that.
Beside me, Rick stirred. He rubbed his eyes, and my heart fluttered at the faint welts on his forearm. There’d be more on his legs, and those would probably be visible tomorrow. The ones on his wrist would be beneath his shirt sleeves, but if the cuffs pulled up, and if the light were just right…
My God.
Rick Pierce. At the office. Wearing welts from ropes I’d put on him. And he’d probably still be feeling everything the machine and I had done tonight.
Why yes, I could get used to this arrangement again, and I was so, so relieved that we had time for each other now.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“So good. Especially now.”
“Now? Compared to…?”
“Earlier was hot as hell, but this…” He looked up at me, and his voice slurred as he spoke. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a Dom, and I think I missed this part more than anything.”
“Afterward, you mean?”
“Mmhmm.” He rubbed his eyes again, and when he met mine, his were a bit clearer. “Sleeping alone for a long time kind of makes you appreciate just being in bed with someone.”
I nodded. “It really does. I’ve been looking forward to all of this—fucking in the dungeon, and…this.”
His eyelids slid down, and he slowly ran his tongue across his lips. “Well worth the wait, that’s for sure.”
“Definitely.” I paused. “I was afraid you’d lose interest in me.”
“Lose interest?” His eyes flew open. “What are you talking about? It’s taken me this long just to find someone who tops me like you do.” He ran his hand down my arm. “I’m not going to piss that away just because you’ve got work obligations.”
“Still, it’s kind of hard to maintain something like this if we never see each other. Outside of work, I mean.”
“Maybe.” He smiled. “But considering the things you do when we’re together, you’ll have to work a little harder than that to get rid of me.”
I chuckled and kissed his forehead. “Good to know. Because I’d really like to keep you around.”
He flashed a toothy grin. “Chained in your basement?”
“Do you want to be chained in my basement?”
“As often as possible.” He rested his hand on my shoulder. “In all seriousness, I keep thinking we should do other things. Go out. Watch movies. Something.” He lifted his head and kissed me. “But every time we’re alone…”
“Me too. Especially since we haven’t been alone much, but that’s going to change.” I kissed him this time, and gently pressed him back down to the pillow. “I suppose going out is sort of limited. It’d be just our luck we’d run into one of my bosses or something.”
He grimaced. “Yeah. There’s that. Damn it.”
“If we do decide to take this out of our respective houses, I have to say, you would be a hell of a lot of fun at a play party.”
His eyes widened. “You…really want to do that?”
“It could be fun. There’s a dungeon in town that has parties every weekend. If you’re not busy tomorrow night, we could…”
Rick quirked his lips. “I don’t know. I’ve never been to something like that. My ex always made it sound like subs pretty much got passed around like an hors d’oeuvre tray.”
I shook my head. “Not always.” I held him closer to me. “Only if their Dom allows it.”
“If…” He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. “If we went to something like that, what if I only wanted to play with you? No one else?”
“Then no one else will touch you, or I’ll break their arm.”
“But then, why go? Isn’t that the point?”
“Not at all. The parties are fun even if you don’t share. I have quite a few friends in the community. And I like to watch people. That’s one of the things I love about bondage—the visual—so I guess I’m a bit of a voyeur.”
“Are you”—he swallowed—“an exhibitionist?”
“I can be. If the person I’m with doesn’t mind being watched.”
“It’s something I’ve never done, believe it or not.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “One of the few kinky partners I ever had wasn’t big on letting other people see me, let alone see me playing.”
“Possessive?”
“Just a bit. And the others…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess they weren’t into parties.” He searched my eyes. “How much do you like that sort of thing?”
“Are you asking if it’s something I need?”
“Well…” He paused. “I guess? Maybe I should ask, if it’s not something I want to do, is that a deal-breaker?”
“Absolutely not.” I caressed his cheek, my fingertips hissing across his five-o’clock shadow. “I’ll tell you right now, there are no deal-breakers. If you don’t want to do something, we won’t. End of story.”
He held my gaze again and slowly smiled. Without a word, he lifted his head and kissed me. As he sank back down to the pillow, though, he said, “I’m not completely opposed. I’ll think about it.”
“Okay.” I smiled back. “We can do plenty on our own. The parties are just something different. But only if you want to.”
“We’ll see.” He trailed his fingers up my arm. “For now, I think you’re all I can handle.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
His grin answered even before he whispered, “It’s a very good thing.”
“Then I don’t care if we go to parties or if I just tie you up downstairs.” I draped my arm over him, pressing against him and just enjoying the warmth of his skin against mine. “No pressure.”
Rick nodded. “No pressure.”
I leaned in and kissed him. “Stay here tonight?”
“Will you fuck me again if I do?”
“Neither of us will be able to move tomorrow.”
“Don’t care about tomorrow.” He ran featherlight fingertips down my chest. “Just care about tonight.”
“Mmhmm. And you’re getting awfully demanding for a submissive.”
His hand froze.
“Might have to punish you for that.”
He swallowed. “Punish me, how?”
“Well…” I slid my hand beneath the covers, toward his cock. “I’ll just have to make you work for the good, hard fucking I know you want.”
He licked his lips. “Anything.”
“So willing.” I teased his erection with the pad of my thumb. “I think this is going to be a long night.”
He held my gaze, and his eyes asked, loud and clear, “Promise?”
Oh yes.
I kissed him again, pushing his lips apart with my tongue.
I promise.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nothing could interrupt a relatively quiet, uneventful morning, like an ominous “Oh…shit.”
It was Teagan who said it, which was never good. Especially not when she looked at me from across our respective partially completed rooftops. “Uh, Jon?”
The panic in her voice straightened my spine.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She eyed her model, then looked at me again. “We’ve got a problem.”
My heart quickened. “T, I’m on two balls-to-the-wall deadlines that I can barely handle without overtime.” I gestured at the pair of models I was working on, both of which had to be done soon. “What kind of problem?”
“That bottle o
f cement you’re using, is it from the case we just opened in the supply room?”
My heart beat faster. “Teagan…”
“Something’s wrong with it.”
“Eating or warping?” Please say eating. Please say eating. Please—
“Warping. Bad.”
“Motherfucker.” I turned toward my projects. Sure enough, a corner I’d finished last night had begun to warp. On closer inspection, it wasn’t the only bad spot. If the glue had been eating through the foam-core, I could have patched it with epoxy, but warping was more complicated. It fucked up how two pieces fit together, which could throw off the whole damned thing. It was like putting a jigsaw puzzle together with a piece of debris stuck between two of the pieces. Or more than two, I realized as I looked over both models and saw just how many places had warped.
I glanced at the clock. It was ten fifteen, and I had to have both of these models in Marie’s office by three thirty. If push absolutely came to shove, I’d ask for an extension, but she wouldn’t be happy about it. Better to try to solve the problem and still get it in on time, which meant it was time to call in reinforcements.
“Cal, what are you working on right now?”
“Couple of drawings for Beelzebub,” he said.
“How long before you need to turn them in, and how close are you to finishing?”
“They’re due Friday, but I’ll have them done by the end of the day. Easily. Why?”
“Save them and get over here.” I flipped open a case of X-ACTO knives. “I need your help. And see if Silent Dave can spare an hour or two.”
Fortunately, Silent Dave was available too, and I put them both to work cutting foam-core and plastic according to each drawing’s specs. They weren’t modelers, but they were drafters, so I wasn’t worried about their ability to interpret the schematics and cut the pieces correctly. Everyone in the room knew this was a major problem, or at least they knew Teagan and I were seriously stressed, because no one joked about Cal’s potential to cut off a finger.