“I think I’ll make a good use of your hole,” Max mused. “After that, you’ll kneel naked in a corner, without any distractions, for fifteen minutes, thinking of your behavior and the ways to correct it. You’ll do it every morning and every evening when you have a day off, and each weekday evening. Whenever you work at home, including today, you’ll do it with your clothes off, so that you remember that working and making money isn’t your ultimate purpose, pleasing your Dom is. And what pleases me the most is knowing that you’re well and really ready for—ahem—physical activities.”
The moan that Vadim let out was quite a satisfying response.
****
Max had planned to raid the Dorogomilovsky rynok today, one of Moscow’s largest markets conveniently situated nearby, and return loaded with a backpack of fresh farmer foods, but now he considered ordering take-out instead. He didn’t want to leave Vadim alone after their almost-quarrel, the sad emptiness of the fridge notwithstanding. Maybe he shouldn’t have pried and thus provoked Vadim’s insecurities. He’d touched a raw nerve, albeit unintentionally. Vadim’s jumping from a confession of having no friends to a conclusion that no one wanted him, including his current lover, was frighteningly understandable.
The bitter irony was that Max had only wanted to be considerate. Maybe sometimes he was as clumsy at relationships as at SM play. He tried to act nice, but was it what Vadim needed?
Vadim now loitered in the kitchen, seemingly unable to take his eyes off Max even for a minute and mortified at being so needy. Max had told him not to bother with clothing and was dressed only in sweatpants himself, as the central heating was practically boiling hot today. In old buildings, the heat seemed to be either insufficient or sizzling, sometimes changing from one mode to the other for no obvious reason, but never into something in between.
“I tidied up but I forgot about shopping,” Vadim confessed when he saw Max contemplating the contents of the fridge, or rather, the lack of them.
“That’s a matter for punishment too, of course,” Max considered pensively. “But what puzzles me the most—what did you eat, exactly, while I was away? You’d told me you did eat.”
Vadim made a face when Max looked back at him, waiting for his answer. “I don’t usually eat much, not unless you feed me.”
“I’m afraid that in your case not much means almost nothing at all,” Max grumbled. “Luckily, I’m back to look after you.”
The options for breakfast were fairly limited, but at least Max was able to make scrambled eggs and toast, with a can of beans to accompany them. Vadim had trouble sitting after the thrashing Max had given him, so he was permitted to kneel by the kitchen table. It made the meal all the more pleasant.
About halfway through his meal, Vadim spoke. “I’m sorry, I almost forgot,” he said around his toast. “I’ve got a New Year’s present for you, too. You gave me a webcam, and I kind of thought it was too early for presents then, so I hadn’t got one by that time, but now I do…”
Max stopped his blabbering with a laugh. “First lick your plate clean—yeah, like that—now give it to me and go get my present. Oh no, don’t stand up. Crawl. You’re not off the punishment detail yet.”
Vadim dropped forward onto his hands and slinked cautiously out of the kitchen and back into the bedroom. Max followed, watching him with satisfaction, fascinated by the heavy sway of his genitals just visible between his legs. He’d make Vadim wash the dishes later to keep him away from his work for a while.
The present that Vadim had hidden under the bed and now proffered to Max was a large black duffel bag. It didn’t look all that special—just an ordinary thing similar to the one Max had traveled with—but its contents turned out to be truly remarkable. Max whistled as he opened it. What he saw was very much like an SM treasury. It was a bag of toys, a much larger collection than his present one. A bevy of various spanking implements, anal plugs, wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, and some items Max didn’t even recognize.
“What’s this?” Max took out a carrying case, closed by a zipper. Inside, there was what looked like a fat black plastic pencil, similar to hair curling tongs, with an electric cord attached at one end. All around it was an array of glass tubes with metal tips, in their own separate slots.
“That’s a violet wand,” Vadim explained eagerly. “You know, a thing for, um, electrical stimulation. You’ve mentioned that you might want to try electricity play with me one day, so…”
Max already regretted his question because a skilled Dom probably would have known what it was, but Vadim didn’t seem to notice, caressing the plastic rod with a finger. It must be a small generator, obviously. You plugged it in, inserted the metal tip of a tube into its nose cone, set the voltage … and then…
Would it hurt much?
“I think you should tie me up before trying it on me,” Vadim said thoughtfully, still regarding the evil thing with awe.
“Hmm,” Max said ambiguously. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to burn your skin using such an implement. Was it safe at all? He’d have to Google it. He’d have to Google many things if he was to use all this tackle on his enthusiastic sub.
“It’s not necessary to put everything to use if you don’t want to,” Vadim said hastily as if reading his thoughts. “But whatever you want to try… It’s fine.”
Max saw how excited Vadim was about his present and how jittery he was for Max to say something, so of course he praised his sub on the right choice. Vadim beamed, glad to have pleased him.
But to be honest, the thought of making their SM games more elaborate and maybe more intense frightened Max, and it was unpleasant that he couldn’t share his uncertainty with Vadim unless he explained himself. Would Vadim trust him with his body to experiment on it, again and again, if he knew that it was a series of first times for his Dom? Would he feel safe, knowing Max couldn’t guarantee everything would go as planned? Max had reasonable doubts about it. He’d plunged into SM with the eagerness of a novice, though he’d always been hesitant about whether he had the right to use someone else’s body as he wished if he couldn’t always predict the consequences, but now his enthusiasm was dulled by what felt like fear.
I’ll be cautious, Max told himself for the hundredth time, but wasn’t it sickening—trying to soothe his conscience like this while unsure he’d be able to keep his promise?
He wanted to make Vadim happy. But if that included trying out something possibly dangerous… Could happiness justify the risk?
****
Max allowed Vadim to spend a few hours at his computer, with breaks of course, but it didn’t take Vadim long to finish his work, just like he’d said. While his sub was busy, Max thought out their program for today. He wanted to make it up to Vadim for abandoning him during the holidays, but he also wanted to provide him with more than just a kinky pastime.
When Vadim declared he was finished, Max surprised him with an unexpected order. “Get dressed. Choose something more or less sporty. We’re going skating in Gorky Park. Can you skate? If not, I’ll teach you.”
Vadim made a face. “Yeah, I can, but you said I’m still being punished. How does that correspond with being punished?”
Max chuckled softly and caressed Vadim’s pouty lower lip with a finger. “Perfectly well. You don’t seem to like physical activity. Ergo, it’s a punishment, too. No inconsistency on my part. Besides, I’d like to go skating. That’s reason enough. Your goal is to please your Dom, as we’ve agreed, and it’s for me to choose what would please me the most at the moment. Don’t you think so?”
Vadim looked contrite but Max thought it was forced.
The park where Max had decided to take Vadim was named after the writer Maxim Gorky and also known as Park Kultury, the Park of Culture. It stretched along the Moskva River and, just like in the Soviet times, hosted sports events and exhibitions, just maybe of a more modern kind. In summer you could take classes in skateboarding and yoga, run with a jogging club or take a guided cycle tour, and in
winter, the park ponds were flooded, turning it into the city’s biggest ice-skating rink, very atmospheric, with lit-up ice alleys meandering between the trees, with cozy cafes and free Wi-Fi—because how did you manage without Wi-Fi nowadays? You could borrow free-loan skates, which was good as Max didn’t have any.
First, Vadim was unsure on the ice, for he obviously hadn’t been indulging in winter sports lately, but after some funny stumbling they both seemed to find their balance. Sliding over the ice side by side was boyishly amusing. And what made it all the more pleasant was that Vadim now had color in his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes. As they slid off the rink to regain their breath, Max poked him in the ribs, teasingly. “Are you reconciled with your punishment?”
“It feels more like a present,” Vadim laughed.
Max thought of having a stroll in the center afterwards if they weren’t too exhausted. The New Year illumination was surely still on. Judging from what Max had Googled, it looked pretty festive. Central pedestrian streets were said to be dotted with glittering garlands, twinkling stars, fairy lights of all colors, and other light installations. A very Instagrammable giant shimmering bauble had appeared in Manege Square and quickly became a popular background for selfies. Hardy Muscovites still not exhausted by the long holidays, explored street markets, wandering along the rows of wooden kiosks loaded with handcrafts, souvenirs and traditional Russian snacks like Tula gingerbreads. All these luminous decorations and colorful market stalls on every major square transformed Moscow into a fairy tale, and Max thought seeing them would help to cheer up Vadim.
Or, in case Vadim wouldn't want to go elsewhere, they could relax in a tiny café right here. Buy two cups of mulled wine and share a portion of vareniki, dumplings stuffed with mashed potatoes or cottage cheese, arguing at who’d eaten more. He wanted to keep that smile on Vadim’s face as long as he could.
Maybe it was also procrastination on his part. He was afraid to explore Vadim’s kit of sadomasochistic stuff, but at the same time, he didn’t want to disappoint him by ignoring it. Just a few months ago, he’d be thrilled about learning new BDSM practices, but now, after a few miscalculations, the idea of trying out some unknown, complex gear made him feel uneasy. The more extreme the game became, the more chances for him to lose control and make a terrible mistake.
Chapter Nine
A Series of Catastrophes
Max knew something would go wrong eventually, again. He knew that.
And yet it hadn’t stopped him.
Vadim lay spread-eagled in front of him, tied to the legs of the bed and blindfolded. Max had pulled the tethers tighter than usual. As he’d bound Vadim’s hands, he’d taken him by the feet and given a strong tug until the arms had been well tensed—and only then had he secured the ankles. With his sub thus properly stretched, Max was about to indulge into sensation play. Vadim used to respond well to gingering, if by well one meant lots of moaning and squirming and cathartic tears. This time Max was going to torture Vadim’s cock and balls instead of tormenting his anus. It was already reddened and tender from the previous night, and besides, he wanted to give Vadim some novelty.
Max climbed onto the bed between Vadim’s spread legs, and Vadim flinched in anticipation at the sound of a cap being opened with a click, unable to see what was going on. If he thought it was lubricant, he was wrong. Max smiled cruelly as he squeezed a quarter inch of minty toothpaste onto his finger. Menthol or mint flavoring that produced a tingly sensation on your tongue was several times more intense on the delicate, sensitive genital tissue. He’d tried it on himself, albeit very sparingly. It had felt like chilled heat. Just what he needed.
He’d done his research and chosen a fluoride-free toothpaste for the play. Natural toothpastes seemed to contain fewer chemicals or potentially toxic substances than traditional brands. This one wasn’t designed specifically for your naughty bits of course, but at least Max felt like he’d eliminated some of the dangers.
Max brought the toothpaste-covered finger to the tip of his tongue—yes, quite the tingle—then applied it to Vadim’s cock, slowly smearing the gooey blob along the shaft. Vadim wriggled his hips, either to avoid the strange sensation or to push into the touch. Both could be regarded as waywardness, and Max slapped his balls as a warning. “Keep still.” Vadim froze, obedient as always, but Max could see it took some resolve.
Max drew another line of toothpaste along Vadim’s penis. “What do you feel?”
“It’s chilly … weird. What is it?”
Max brought a finger to Vadim’s mouth and let him taste the paste, too.
“Oh, that!” Vadim laughed. “Unexpected, I must admit.”
“Now be silent. And don’t squirm, or I’ll have to tie you up even tighter.”
Max squeezed out a big handful of toothpaste and started unhurriedly rubbing Vadim off with it. It was thicker than lube, and he had to use more effort than usual. It didn’t take long for Vadim to disobey the command—his hips twitched of their own accord.
“Whoa!” Max chided him. “Be patient.”
“It’s getting stingy,” Vadim complained.
“That’s just a start,” Max promised ominously. “You’ll have to tough it out if you want to get off.”
The cold tingling in his own palm became more and more intense as he kept lathering the generous serving of toothpaste on the shaft, surely the sensation was even stronger on the tender skin. Vadim writhed, trying to buckle his knees, but in vain. He was too tightly bound, his body stretched to its full length.
“Shh, don’t pull on your ropes,” Max reminded him. Vadim swung his head from side to side as if it would help to ease the discomfort, his lips tightly pressed. He kept silent, but remaining still seemed to be more of a challenge. Max could feel a tremor going through his sub’s whole body as he continued smearing the toothpaste over him. Vadim surely tried as best as he could not to move, but when Max touched the tip of his cock, he jerked violently, almost twisting his arms. His face was flushed and contorted, in agony?
Max stopped rubbing. “Hey, fancy a break?”
“It’s cold!” Vadim panted out, thrashing under him. “Please, I can’t… Max, please.”
It was a more extreme reaction than Max had expected. Menthol overdose? Vadim didn’t exactly safeword out though. He begged, yes, but he usually did. Max lingered, hesitating. He saw a single tear rolling down from under the blindfold as if in slow motion.
Vadim arched his back with a groan and slammed back into the mattress, and that broke the spell.
Oh god. Oh god. It was wrong.
“Hold on, I’ll untie you,” Max promised hastily, snapped out of his doubts. “We’ll wash it off.”
Nervousness made his fingers clumsy. He wrestled with the knots for what seemed like eternity, and Vadim’s squirming made his task all the more difficult. “Be still, please,” Max pleaded, but Vadim was far from being lucid, overwhelmed with whatever he felt. As soon as Max freed his legs, Vadim curled in on himself, his tied arms disregarding. It caused the knots to jam, and Max lost almost a minute, panicking, before it came to his mind he should use scissors and cut the ropes.
Now that Vadim’s arms were free too, Max nudged him to sit up. “Come on, to the bathroom.” Cold running water. That was what they needed to wash the evil substance off.
“Ah fuck,” was all Vadim could utter. When he stood up with Max’s help, his legs gave in under him and he almost stumbled. “Mmm. Fuck. Fuck.”
“What is it?”
“Legs gone numb. Sorry. I can’t…”
Oh, that was most untimely. The restraints must have been too snug. Max eased Vadim’s body back onto the bed. “Wait. Just wait. Just a moment.” He rushed into the kitchen, filled a pan with water, fetched a towel, soaked it, and dashed back. When the wet cloth made contact with the stained flesh, Vadim growled. The toothpaste had hardened. It took time to slowly wash this shell off, bit by bit. Max tried not to rub too vigorously.
“Still hurts?” h
e asked with concern when the last residue seemed to have been washed off.
“Uh-huh.” Vadim had ripped off the unnecessary blindfold and now tried to take a sitting position again.
“Can you walk? I think a shower is due anyway.” Max hoped running water would ease the pain, and off they hobbled to the bathroom, Max supporting his still limping sub.
Liters and liters of water—and yet it was of little help. The tender skin looked like it had been badly sunburned, and Max saw Vadim barely holding back the grimace of pain as he showered himself.
“That bad?” he asked.
Vadim managed a short laugh. “I think I went from being frozen to being on fire. Is it for long?”
“It might burn for about twenty minutes after being applied,” Max answered automatically, giving the information he’d read somewhere and not quite sure if it would be true.
“Okay, that I can stand. I think,” Vadim said with some doubt in his voice. “It’s all washed off. It should start getting better.”
In the next half hour, Max hovered around Vadim, guilt making him overzealous in the attempts to get him comfortable, until his sub, perched on the bed, gave him a smile. “Max, stop fussing around. I think I’ll survive, along with my manhood. I’m fine. Really. Too sensitive for action, but not too sore. Lie down with me, will you? Unless you have something else in mind.” He looked up at Max with sudden hesitancy. “Some other play?”
Max climbed onto the bed, as he’d been told, and settled beside him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, not right now.”
Vadim made an apologetic face. “Looks like I’ve ruined the evening for you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tough it out, but it was really excruciating.”
That caught Max by surprise. “You’re sorry?”
Vadim winced. “I know that people do endure it. It’s bearable if demanding. But I couldn’t cope.”
“People react differently, you know. To each stimulant,” Max offered as consolation, although he felt strange reassuring Vadim while it should have been the other way around. It had been his fault. His failure. He should have begun with a tiny amount to see how Vadim’s body reacted. He shouldn’t have made the restraints too tight.
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