Gripping his bonds, he cried out, emptying his seed into my waiting hand. “Good boy.” I lifted my fingers to my lips, enjoying his stare, marveling how sometimes I could still shock him. He groaned when I lapped at his cream, slowly, like I was enjoying my second dessert.
“Want a taste, pet? You and me, combined?”
“Please.”
Oh, I liked that. My boy was so polite tonight. I let him lick my hand dry, before stroking his sweat-soaked hair with my clean hand.
“Tonight’s just starting,” I reminded him.
“God, I hope so.”
Smiling, I worked him free of his bonds. He bit his lip, probably doing his best to hide his disappointment.
“Master, that’s it?” he had the gall to say.
“This is a test run. I want you in the best state of mind, boy. Remember how we’ve been talking about conquering your fear together?”
Julian grew still, biting down his lower lip. “Master, no. Please, not tonight.”
“Are you safewording, Julian?” I asked, making sure he heard the calm in my voice. “I won’t be disappointed, but I’d like you to try.”
I held out a hand towards him, which he took without hesitation—a good sign so far.
“I’ll push you to the edge, but you have to trust I won’t leave you.” I led him to our bedroom, gave the back of his neck a squeeze. “Let’s take slow steps, baby. All I want you do is stand inside for one minute.”
Panic rose to his features. “Sixty seconds sounds like a long time, Master.”
“I’ll be there with you.”
“Oh.” He looked a little relieved now. “You promise?”
“Of course, baby. I’ll be right next to you.”
Back in our bedroom, Julian anxiously stared at the empty closet space, at the dangling rope hanging on the clothing bar. I pulled out the spreader bar and lube and placed them on the bed.
“Talk to me, Julian.”
“I’m shit scared. So silly, right?” he muttered.
We frequented The Riding Crop once a week, but he still couldn’t stand small spaces, even cages where he could see me. I knew asking this of him would be a huge step. It was practically a leap for him.
Despite how much time had passed, he sometimes woke in the middle of the night, screaming. Holding him tight, reminding him I was there, always with him, had been the best solution. I was still scared to leave him alone in the house, alone in our bedroom. I always invited Chris to watch him if I needed to be away for business, because Julian didn’t mind him.
“Not silly at all, pet. What I’m asking you to do is a huge deal.” I held out a hand, expecting him to shove it away, and tell me to go fuck myself, because he wasn’t ready.
“Okay. I’ll try for you, just one minute, right?” he asked, gripping my fingers to the point of pain.
I shook my head, pulling him into an embrace. “Not for me alone, but also for yourself.”
He buried his head into my chest, and I stroked his back for a while. When he pulled away, determination burned his eyes. Once we stepped foot inside, he started to shake, but nonetheless held his hands up. I attached the rope to his cuffs, stretching him.
“I’ll just get the spreader bar, love.” I grabbed the bar and returned to him.
Once the bar had been attached to his ankle cuffs, I squeezed his left shoulder, left little touches. I tugged at his nipple rings, retraced the gifts he’d given me for our anniversary. He breathed evenly now. I peeled off my shirt, letting him see the fresh bandage there.
“Master, what—” He sucked in a breath when I peeled it off, revealing his name, inked across my heart.
“You’re my heart, Julian. My brave and stunning boy.”
I swiped the tears gathering in his lids.
“I love you. Sometimes, I don’t think saying those words is enough to convey how much you mean to me, Nick.”
“They’re more than enough.”
“That ink, my name, it’s going to drive me mad all the time, Master, thinking what’s under your clothes,” he grumbled.
“I know.” I didn’t tell Julian he’d been in here this tiny space with me for more than a minute now. Like in the dining room, I showed my boy how much he meant to me, kissing every inch of him once more. This time though, I don’t let him come.
“Master,” he breathed, groaning when I pulled my mouth from his needy dick.
“Not yet, boy.” I undid the spreader bar and freed his hands.
“That’s it?” he asked.
“Step-by-step, baby.”
I took him away from the darkness of the closet and back to the room. We picked this as our bedroom because of the broad windows that looked right out into the street. During mornings, we left them open, but tonight, the curtains were drawn so we could play without caring about prying eyes.
Julian let out a loose laugh. “That was … easier than I thought it would be.” He hesitated, about to touch the ink. “Let’s put a new bandage on that again, Master?”
“Go ahead, boy.”
I sat on the edge of the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a first-aid kit in hand. With careful fingers, he placed a new gauze over the ink and taped the edges.
“No fair,” he said after. “I want your name on my skin, too.”
I grinned. “We can do that. It would look amazing.”
“What’s next, Master?” he asked, eager, setting the kit aside.
“First, I plan to leave souvenirs on your ass and thighs before I fuck you.” He shuddered, and I nodded to the dresser containing our toys. “Pick three toys you want me to use on you.”
“I get to pick?” he murmured, eyes wide.
I nodded. “Consider it a reward for staying in the closet this long. Don’t take too long though, or I’ll retract my offer.”
Julian hurried over to the dresser, biting his lip, staring, running his hand over the toys the way I did before I tied him to our dining room table.
“Boy, you’re making me wait,” I said, using the tone he responded best to.
“But there’s so many. I’m beginning to think this is punishment, not a reward,” he murmured.
He figured it out. I suppressed a wicked chuckle and crossed my arms, leveling a reproaching look at him. Julian pulled out a high intensity flogger with steel tips—one of my favorites and one he swore he hated—a plug, and a paddle he’d given me for Valentine’s Day.
I wondered if he chose that particular flogger to please me.
“Don’t run, boy. Crawl towards me,” I added.
Where was the fun if I didn’t make him work for it?
Besides, we both knew he loved it when I reprimanded him, punished him occasionally on a whim when he needed the pain to focus or forget about the stress of his job.
Looking chastised, he sat up like a loyal pup and offered me the tools on his knees. Julian looked at me hopefully, wagged his hands like paws, and I did my best not to laugh. I lined the tools on bed, within easy reach, and pointed to my lap, making sure to keep a stern expression on my face. Julian aimed his puppy dog eyes at me.
My fucking adorable and gorgeous boy.
Sometimes, it worked, but not tonight.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, boy. Take your punishment with grace,” I said.
He draped his body over my lap, wiggling his ass suggestively at me, prompting me to swat his bottom. Groaning, he dug his erection against my jeans. We both loved the contrast of his bare flesh against my clothes. He parted his legs for me, knowing the plug would go in first.
I picked up the plug first, lubing it, taking my time, before working more gel into his waiting hole. He sighed when I pushed one finger into him, and a second, stretching him. Curling my digit and finding his gland, I grinned when he gasped and squirmed.
“Stay still, boy. Can’t you behave yourself?”
“You’re purposely making it hard, Master.”
“Do I?” I reached for his dick, gave it squeeze.
/> He whimpered. This time, Julian kept still as I pushed the plug into his ass. I wanted him all stretched out, ready to take me after I painted his ass and thighs in shades of red and pink. I patted his bottom, nudging the plug a little to get a reaction from him.
“Master, please,” he gasped.
“Pleading so soon, boy? Save it, because we both know you need this.”
“Yes, Sir,” he answered meekly, or tried to sound contrite anyway.
I knew better, knew him inside and out. Reaching for the paddle, I let him feel the studded end by rubbing it against his smooth, sweet ass, even though I’ve used this plenty of times after he had the gall to buy the toys he wanted me to use on him. He groaned, but struggled to not move an inch.
Lifting the paddle, my hand came down the moment he least expected it. Julian jumped, groaning, heavy cock and balls pressing into my pants. I wondered how long he’d last, if he could make it to the flogger. The paddle made a whistling sound through the air. I didn’t hit him that hard at first, warming him up. Julian ate it all up of course, groaning and begging, but never using his safeword, never in all our years together.
Once I’d gotten his bottom a nice shade of red, I set the paddle down, running my hand over his sensitive flesh.
“Good boy, look at you. Red’s such a fucking lovely color on you.” I gave his welted ass a pinch, enjoying the sound of his whimper. “Where are we now, Julian?”
“Green, Master,” he murmured.
He sounded a little languid, already halfway into subspace. I took the flogger next, letting it fly, building the ache slowly. Fuck, but I love the sound of the heavy leather and the tip kissing his flesh and making that loud thudding sound, and the way he pushed his ass up to meet my blows, never to avoid it. I made sure never to hit the same place, spacing each blow out, not sparing his thighs or his balls and cock.
“Master, God,” he whispered.
Knowing Julian was close to bursting, I put the implement aside.
“You’re ready for me, boy. Good job on taking your punishment like a champ.” I ran my hand across the expense of his marked skin, humming to myself. Julian made for such a perfect canvas. “Up, boy.”
He scooted away from my lap. “What next, Sir?”
“Drink some water first.”
Before doing anything else, I plucked one of the bottled waters on the dresser and made sure he drank some before we resumed.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Green,” he murmured. “You haven’t fucked me yet, Sir.”
“So fucking direct, boy?” His grin didn’t falter, and I nodded to the floor. On occasion, Julian’s mouth got the better of him, but I loved how he was open to communicating with me. “Get on your hands and knees.”
I helped him get into position, chest to the ground, ass in the air. Perfect. I took the lube before positioning myself behind him. Using my foot, I nudged his legs further apart, until his pink little hole, still filled with the plug, looked back at me.
“Master, I need you inside me.”
“Soon, baby. Be patient.” I took out the plug, setting it aside, and guided my cock head into his waiting entrance. Teasing him a little, I rubbed the head around his hole. He muttered something under his breath.
“What was that, boy?”
“I didn’t say anything, Master.”
“Sounded suspiciously like a curse.”
“You frustrate me sometimes, Master.”
“I do, and you love it.”
He groaned, agreeing with me.
I pushed into him slowly, loving every frustrated groan and growl, the way I torment him. Julian felt slick and ready for me. Once fully seated inside him, I stayed there, unmoving for a couple of seconds.
“Feel me in you, pet?”
“Yes, you feel so good, Master.”
Curling my fingers around his thickening dick, I began to glide my fist up and down his shaft, alternating between fast and slow.
“Please, Sir!”
“What are you exactly begging me for, boy?” I asked.
“Ride me fast and hard. Please.”
“It would be my fucking pleasure.”
Gripping the flesh of his hips, I hammered in and out of him, finding a steady rhythm. Reaching under his body, I gave the ring on his dick a pull, and did his nipples next. He let out a strangled cry, full of need and longing. Julian clawed at the carpeting, cock hardening, loving the mix of pain and pleasure.
I fucked him the way I kept his cock captive, fast, and then slow. Pushing deeper, I breached his most intimate places. How wonderful it was a weekend tomorrow. I could wear Julian’s ass out tonight and spend tomorrow cuddling him on our couch, binge watching Netflix and pigging out on takeout. Reducing us both to pants, I sped up, knowing I wouldn’t last.
Shifting my hips, I entered him and, judging by his gasp, hit his sweet spot. I stroked his dick a little faster, aiming for his prostate repeatedly, pushing us near the edge.
“Come for me, boy. Do it now,” I ordered.
I gave his balls a pinch, tugging at his piercing. Throwing back his head, he cried out, every tense muscle in his back and shoulders unknotting, relaxing. He sprayed his cum all over my fingers. I thrust into him several more times before exploding, shooting my load into his waiting ass while I growled out my triumph. Slumping against him, I patted his reddened bottom.
“Good job, baby.”
I helped him to his feet, pressing our lips together for a kiss. He leaned against me, burying his face into my chest, needing to be held. I stroked his spine, not speaking for the next couple of moments. We didn’t need words anyway.
“Let’s continue this in the bath,” I suggested. Julian parted from me, wicked smile on his lips.
“Oh? Master isn’t satisfied?”
“You bet.” I offered him my hand.
Without hesitation, he linked his fingers in mine. I gave each one a kiss. Grabbing my other hand, with traces of his cum on them, he licked my fingers like a needy cat.
In the bathroom, I turned on the taps. Once the tub was full, I stepped in, and Julian settled himself against my chest, taking his customary position on my lap, legs spread on either side of me.
“Water’s nice, just right,” he murmured, tracing the edge of the gauze on my chest with gentle fingers.
I pressed my thickening prick right against his entrance. Groaning, Julian didn’t protest when I pushed in. With his ass still slick with my cum, I entered him without pausing, until once more, I was fully sheathed inside him.
“Sometimes I wonder if you like taking so many baths for this purpose alone,” Julian murmured. He sank his hands into my shoulders and gripped me so hard his nails left little half-crescent marks, but I didn’t mind.
“Fuck yourself on me, baby,” I ordered.
Moaning, he rocked his hips, back and forth, side to side. I felt each movement, his inner muscles tightening around my dick like a fist around my heart. Catching his bottom lip with my teeth, I sucked and nipped. I was hungry for more even after our scene. Julian was temptation, addiction of the good sort, especially for my soul.
I helped lift his hips and brought his hole right down my waiting shaft.
“God,” he muttered.
“See how hard you’re getting? You like it, too,” I observed. “Why, getting sick of me already, baby?”
“Never,” Julian said vehemently.
“It pleases me to hear that.”
“Nick?”
“Hmm?”
“This is the best anniversary ever.”
I laughed, looked him in the eye and grabbed his chin, angling his face for a kiss. I let his eagerness and heat wash down my throat, before pulling away to answer him, “Baby, the best is still to come.”
The End
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BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER
HOME AGAIN
Angelique Voisen
Copyright © 2018
Chapter One
Ten Years Ago
Zack Cruz pretended to be interested in his phone but the glimpses he sent Seth’s way must have caught the other boy’s attention. Vivid green eyes met his for a second, before Seth looked at his dirty sneakers again. The door to the guidance counselor’s opened, a student exited and another entered.
Once it was only the two of them left, he took the empty seat next to Seth. Seth always had a special way of becoming still. It was as if he thought acting like a statue would make the bullies and haters go away. Being scrawny and wearing secondhand clothes also made the guy an easy target.
Their positions could be reversed. Seth lived in an actual house. Other students called Zack trailer trash, but never to his face. He’d always been a big fucker and he started training, keeping in shape thanks to survival instinct. Zack made a promise to himself that he’d never let his asshole father use him as a punching bag ever again.
Seth flipped opened one notebook. Zack didn’t miss the red paint on the front. More red peered from inside Seth’s battered backpack. No doubt a few boys who thought themselves clever decided to deface Seth’s stuff again. Zack cracked his scarred knuckles in anticipation. He hadn’t had a decent fight in ages, mostly because everyone in school was terrified of him, even the jocks. Everyone save Seth.
Seth scribbled quickly on one clean page of the notebook and flipped it up.
“Leave me alone,” Zack read out loud, then smirked. “You think it’d be that easy?”
Seth furiously wrote on the other page.
“Fuck yourself.”
That made him laugh. “Already did that this morning.”
Seth blushed.
Cute, Zack thought.
“How long has it been now?” Zack asked.
His Brand of Love Page 13