by Nora Phoenix
Josh's body was on fire. Every nerve was tingling and aching. The two clamps on his nipples were burning, his jaw and mouth were achy from sucking Connor off, the humongous butt plug was constantly stretching his ass, and his butt cheeks were glowing with the aftereffects of the spanking. He had never felt so alive. He wasn’t sure what was next, but fuck, he hoped it would involve getting pounded by Connor.
Still on his knees, he patiently waited for Connor to give instructions.
“Let’s go with something that will prevent him from coming, or at least, make it a lot harder,” his man said.
Mine. Connor is mine. And I’m his. How had he ever gotten so lucky to find a man like Connor who not only loved him, but accepted his weaknesses and his kinks as well? He wanted nothing more than to please Connor. If the man would ask him to suck him off again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. The peace this surrender brought, there was nothing like it. When Connor was ordering him around, telling him what to do, using him—everything else faded away. He had no fear of having an episode, of inadvertently dragging up bad memories, of fucking up in whatever way. He had no fear, period. All he had to do was what Connor told him.
Mark came back shortly after with a stainless steel device in his hands. Josh's eyes bulged when he figured out what it was. A cock cage. An actual, fucking cock cage. Oh shit, this was going to get mighty uncomfortable. His eyes traveled to Connor’s face, which broke out into a fat smile.
“Get up, baby,” he told Josh, who carefully rose as not to stimulate the plug in his ass even more. He was already half-hard, and something told him that wasn’t going to be pretty when they tried to stuff him into that thing.
“He’ll be able to get a little hard, but nothing more. Which should have him nice and ready for an explosive orgasm when you take it off,” Mark said, a gleam in his eye.
Josh eyed the contraption again. Was he really going to do this? His eyes found Connor’s. “Step closer,” he told Josh.
Josh relaxed. He still had a choice. Connor wasn’t deciding this for him, he was still giving him an out. Suddenly, he understood the need for those safe words. Green, he was still green.
He surrendered all over again and stepped in, trusting Connor to know his limits. “Yes, Connor.”
Connor and Mark both kneeled, which brought Josh in the somewhat awkward position of having two guys at his feet. As long as Mark wasn’t going to touch him, he was more than okay with the guy being there. Even more, it seemed Connor got a kick out of it. The irony of Connor being a bit of an exhibitionist wasn’t lost on Josh.
“He’s too hard to get it in,” Connor said.
“Pinch him,” Mark said. “For uncut men, the head is incredibly sensitive, so pinch him there. He’ll become soft almost instantly.”
Josh braced himself but still let out a sharp hiss when Connor pulled back his skin and pinched his cock. As Mark had said, his cock went soft immediately. Cold steel surrounded his dick on every side, and before he knew it, his whole length was wrapped in steel circles.
“This one has a lock so you can actually lock it and keep the key. That way, you can prevent Josh from jacking off by himself or from coming when you fuck him. I know quite the number of subs who wear one 24/7.”
The cage closed, and Josh was afraid to move, afraid to breathe even. Mark better have made sure this fucking contraption was the right size for his dick because he was quite attached to it.
“How’s that feel, baby?”
Josh discovered he’d closed his eyes and slowly opened them, let out an experimental breath. Between the plug in his ass, the clamps on his nipples, his cheeks smarting, and now this iron cage pressing into his cock, his body was throbbing with low pain. He needed something, shivered restlessly. More, he needed more. He wanted Connor, needed him. He wanted to go back to that zone where he didn’t think at all, where all he felt was Connor.
“It hurts,” he whispered. “Please, Connor.”
“Do you want me to take it off?” Mark asked Connor.
Connor extended a finger, raised Josh's chin so he could study him, search his eyes. A slow smile painted his lips. “No.” He looked around the room, searching for something. When he’d apparently found what he’d been looking for, he grabbed Josh's hand. Wordlessly, he let him to a broad bench with what looked like soft padding. Above the bench, attached to the wall was a horizontal beam with several leather straps.
“On your fours, hold on to the straps,” he told Josh.
Josh climbed up, wincing as pain radiated everywhere. He planted his knees wide, grabbed the straps and hung his weight in them, canted his hips and spread his ass wide. The thought of Connor fucking him again made his cock jump up, but it was denied by the cage. A sweat broke out on Josh's body.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Josh. I love you so much, you know that, right?”
“Yes, Connor…Please, Connor, please.” His voice broke.
Connor’s warm hand gently cupped his ass. “I’ve got you, baby. Let go. Let me take care of you.”
Josh relaxed. With all the pain humming through his body, he relaxed against Connor’s hand.
Mark said something Josh couldn’t make out. “I appreciate the suggestion, Mark, but this is where you can stand back and enjoy the show.”
Josh closed his eyes, waiting for what he needed more than anything else right now.
Connor’s cock brushed his thighs, then his ass. “Hard and deep, baby, hard and deep.”
Josh's hole clenched when he felt Connor pull on the butt plug. It took him a few seconds to relax and let go. It popped out with an obscene sound, releasing Connor’s previous juices that started trickling down his crack.
“Damn, baby, you should see yourself now. Your ass on fire, my cum dripping out of your hole, your gorgeous cock all caged up for me… You’re mine, Joshua. I love you, so much.”
Josh had about a second to brace himself, feeling Connor line up his cock, and then he slid in. He gave a careful thrust, probably testing to see if Josh could take him. Josh canted his hips even more, pushed his ass up, bore down and took him in all the way.
Connor let out a grunt when he was fully inside. Two strong hands grabbed Josh's hips. Connor bent over, kissed his neck. “You know it’s gonna take a while for me to come again, so you’re in for a hard, long fuck, baby. I’m gonna hammer that perfect ass of yours till I’m done, and maybe I’ll drill it some more after that. You’re so tight and slick and hot, I may never wanna stop fucking you.”
Every word out of Connor’s mouth danced over Josh's skin, teased his nerves, his brain. The images conjured up by Connor’s dirty little speech…right now, he didn’t care if Connor wanted to fuck him for hours. He’d die a happy man. Not even the fact that he couldn’t come himself made the pleasure any less. All he wanted was that thick cock in his ass, pounding him hard. Impatiently, he pushed back his ass, wordlessly urging Connor to get a fucking move on.
“Such a needy little bottom.” Josh could hear the smile in Connor’s voice at these all-too-familiar words. Fuck, yeah, he was needy. And he didn’t give a shit. He moved his ass again.
Connor laughed, a full-out belly laugh that made Josh smile—a smile that disappeared when Connor pulled back and thrust in hard and deep. Fuck, yeah. Finally.
The rhythm Connor set was steady, but each thrust was deep and so powerful Josh had to hold on with all he had to prevent himself from being fucked off the bench. It hurt, but it hurt so good. Everything else faded away. Connor’s fingers dug hard into his hips—probably leaving bruises.
That was the last coherent thought Josh had as his brain disengaged, and he stopped thinking. His whole being centered on his body where every nerve was being assaulted in the most delicious way. His ass completely full, his cock stinging something fierce, his balls furiously full and tight, his nipples and butt cheeks smarting like a motherfucker—he was in heaven.
He lost all concept of time, had no idea how long Connor had been nailing him when his l
over upped the speed and fired off a furious round of thrusts before erupting inside him all over again. A growl of ecstasy filled the room, followed by almost desperate grunts as Connor fucked him relentlessly to squeeze the last drops of cum out.
Completely limp, Josh hung in the straps, barely able to support his own weight on his legs. He didn’t react when Connor pulled out, just hung on till his man would take care of him. He didn’t have to wait long as familiar hands unhooked his wrists and hands from the straps.
“You were amazing, baby,” Connor praised him, as Josh collapsed in his arms.
His body was turned over. Josh heard a click, then the pressure on his cock disappeared as the cage was taken off. It was immediately replaced by Connor’s hot mouth, taking him in as far as he could, sucking hard. Josh clenched his eyes as the pressure that had built up in his balls forced its way out to his cock. Within seconds, he spewed into Connor’s mouth. His hips jerking, his back arching to fuck Connor’s mouth as deep as he could. His vision went white, his heart rate furious as he shook violently from his release. Completely spent, he dropped back onto whatever he was laying on.
Eyes closed, he let himself be picked up, carried to wherever. A bathroom. Steam heated his skin, the smell of sandalwood tickled his nose. Seconds later, Connor lowered them into what had to be the mother of all bathtubs, filled with perfectly warm water. Connor laid back, positioned Josh on top of him, looking up. The tub was so deep, they were both underwater to their neckline.
Suddenly, the clamp on his right nipple was removed, quickly followed by the left. Tears trickled down his face as the pain hit.
“Ssshhh, I know, baby.”
Josh kept his eyes closed, melting against Connor who started to gently wash him with a sponge. “You did so good. I’m so proud of you, Josh.”
The words washed over him, warming him as much as the water did, soothing his frayed nerves. Tender hands spread his ass cheeks, washed him clean. The pain in his nipples slowly subsided to a dull throb.
He fell asleep as Connor kept whispering sweet nothings to him, holding him lovingly. He half-woke as he was lifted out of the tub, patted dry. Cool lotion was rubbed into his buttocks, another flowery-smelling oil into his hole where Connor’s finger pushed it in deep. Josh let it wash over him, completely spent.
16
By all standards, Indy should be tired. He’d driven the entire day yesterday, bringing him from the Empire State all the way to the south of Virginia. Blacksburg, Virginia was new to him, and yet as familiar as many southern towns.
He turned his drawl back on, had switched cars in Roanoke and had insisted on Virginia plates. He was a redhead today—well, this morning. His eyes were green, his wig a deep red that suited his pale skin well. His make up was classy, befitting the Army JAG uniform he was wearing. It was amazing what you could buy online if you were willing to pay for it. He looked rather stunning, if he did say so himself, and damn fucking professional.
And he wasn’t tired at all. On the contrary, a holy fire of revenge burned through his veins, and fuck, it felt good. He had dozens of problems he could do nothing about, but this one he could fix. He could do this for Josh and dammit, he would.
Ty Beaufort was exactly where Indy had expected him to be: working at the Fast-Lube car shop. He was a big guy with a buzz cut, narrow blue eyes, and a permanent scowl. Indy recognized him immediately from the pictures the PI had provided. He skipped the receptionist, walked straight into the shop.
“Mr. Beaufort?”
The guy looked up, his scowl lessening slightly as he took in Indy’s appearance.
“Yes, ma’am. How can I help you?”
“I’m with the Army JAG Corps, tasked with preparing your case. I need a few minutes of your time, please.”
Beaufort’s eyes lit up. “No problem. Yo, Casey, I’m taking my break,” he shouted to another guy who was putting new tires on an F150 truck. The guy waved, which Indy assumed was consent.
“We can talk in the office,” Beaufort said. He gestured toward a small office in the back of the shop.
“Thank you,” Indy said, ever polite.
He took a seat across from Beaufort, who lowered his tall frame in a squeaky desk chair. “What can I do for you?”
Indy folded his hands, smiled. “Am I correct it is your intention to file an appeal in your case against specialist Gordon?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“On what grounds? Merely checking facts here.”
“On the grounds that the rape charge was bogus since it was consensual sex. He asked us to do him, said he liked it rough.”
Indy nodded, fought to keep a professional smile on his face. “And when you say ‘us’, I assume you refer to privates Winters and Moloney as well?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Alright. And you do understand that by confessing to consensual sex, your public army record will reveal you are a homosexual?”
“What? No! I’m no faggot.”
Indy leaned forward slightly, still smiling friendly. “Mr. Beaufort, your defense is that it was consensual sex, that you willingly had anal intercourse with Mr. Gordon. I’m not sure how else this can be interpreted but you being a homosexual.”
“Fuck, no, I’m no faggot. Pardon my language, ma’am. It’s an army thing, you know. Half the guys there fuck each other. There’s hardly any women, so what else can we do to get off? It doesn’t mean nothing. Gordon wanted to be fucked, and we obliged. Doesn’t mean we’re queer.”
Indy nodded as if he understood, then slowly opened the leather briefcase he’d been carrying. He pulled out a large, yellow envelope, opened it while Beaufort started to look increasingly nervous. Did he have any idea what was coming? Fuck, Indy hoped not. He wanted to shock the shit out of him. He pulled out the first picture.
“Are you sure you’re not a faggot, in your words?”
Beaufort’s eyes dropped to the picture on the desk, and his color changed fast, the blood draining from his face. “How did you… Where the fuck did you get this?”
“And ‘this’ refers to the picture of you and a gay prostitute who goes by the name of Devious Devin? It’s a screenshot, by the way, taken from a very…entertaining video of you and Mr. Devin. For someone who claims he’s not a faggot, you sure seem to be enjoying yourself, Mr. Beaufort.”
Small bubbles of spit pooled in the corners of Beaufort’s mouth. “What do you want?”
“I’d hoped to have to convince you with the dozens of other pictures I have in this envelope, but I see you already understand there’s an ulterior motive. Too bad. I especially like the pictures where you’re fucked by—what was his name again? Right, Juicy Justin, a friend of Mr. Devin—while you’re sucking off Mr. Devin.”
Beaufort was barely able to restrain himself. “I will fucking kill you,” he spat at Indy.
Indy leaned back in his chair. “If you want these pictures to become public, by all means, go ahead. I’m sure you’ve realized by now I don’t work for the Army JAG. I need you to listen to me carefully, Mr. Beaufort, because I will only explain this once. If you continue with your appeal, these pictures will become public. I will personally send them to every media outlet in Virginia after I’ve sent them to your wife, your parents, and every one of your brothers, sisters, and cousins. You have quite the extended family here, Mr. Beaufort, and they’re all so active in the Southern Baptist church. I can only imagine how well you being a faggot would go over with them.”
Beaufort’s hand reached out to snatch his wrist, but Indy was faster. Within seconds, he’d dislocated the man’s thumb, causing him to yelp out in pain. If looks could kill, Indy would have been reduced to ashes right about now.
“You’re not listening, Mr. Beaufort. If you continue the appeal, I will expose you for the flagrant hypocrite you are. If something happens to me, these pictures will become public. But that’s not the worst of your concerns. Ask me what is.”
Beaufort shot him a murdering look but didn’
t say anything. With a lightning-fast move, Indy dislocated his index finger. Beaufort screamed in pain. Luckily his coworker wouldn’t be able to hear it over the noise of the radio and the tools he was using. “Let me try again. Ask me what you really should be concerned about, Mr. Beaufort.”
He was sweating now, probably from the pain. “What should I be concerned about?” he said between clenched teeth.
“If you continue this smear campaign on specialist Gordon—and let’s face it, we both know you’re lying through your teeth—you will experience firsthand the meaning of the Biblical expression ‘an eye for an eye’. We will find you, Mr. Beaufort, and we will do to you what you did to Joshua Gordon—times ten. By the time we’re done, you’ll be shitting in a bag for the rest of your life. Please tell me I’m making myself clear.”
Beaufort, white as a fucking ghost, nodded.
“Words, Mr. Beaufort. I need to make sure you understand me. This is not a threat. This is a promise, a given. Withdraw the appeal, or you will pay tenfold for your crimes.”
He swallowed visibly. “I understand.” He hesitated. “What about Winters and Moloney?”
Indy smiled. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Mr. Beaufort. We’ll take care of them.” He let go of the man’s hand and rose. He straightened his uniform, then patted Beaufort on his shoulder. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding. I will check in with Army JAG Corps tomorrow, but I’m sure you’ll cooperate, won’t you, Mr. Beaufort?”
He didn’t wait for an answer but walked out. He’d parked around the corner, giving him the time to drive off before Beaufort would even gather his wits to try and make his car.
One down, two to go.
Winters took even less convincing than Beaufort. The PI had said he was a follower, would do what Beaufort said. Still, Indy wanted to make sure Winters understood the consequences should he deviate from the plan.
“I didn’t even touch him,” Winters whimpered after Indy had detailed the Biblical threat to him.