by Leah Blake
Trevor Dawson suppressed his nerves, but watching the second hand on the circular clock over the doorway didn’t help. He’d been waiting for a Dom for over twenty minutes now. Three of the subs who came in after him had already been taken into their rooms, leaving him in this red velvet chair in this square space, six other subs surveying their competition. A large flat screen mounted to the corner of this waiting area played an ongoing stream of BDSM videos, but Trevor couldn’t get an ounce of excitement from the scenes.
It had been years since his last encounter with Marcus. He had learned through his more elite sources that Marcus visited the island and didn’t keep his taboo travels under too much wrap. Hell, it worked in his favor.
His wallet, on the other hand, was suffering a blow of apocalyptic proportions after booking this trip.
All on a whim, you idiot.
He looked at the clock as a bouncer came to the doorway and pushed aside the sheer curtain. Chains rattled, equipment squeaked, and guests moaned and groaned, shrieked and called out demands from the open exhibition area in the adjacent room. Curtains provided minimal privacy to the scenes being played out as the onlookers enjoyed the shows.
Trevor’s gaze lifted to the bouncer. Me. Please, don’t make me sit here anymore. The man stared, picking away at him like he was a snack. Oh shit. This is my Dom. He isn’t a bouncer. That isn’t Marcus.
His heart sank at the notion of missing an opportunity with his former lover. Unfortunately, as he found out when he arrived, guests and their identities were strictly confidential. Unless, of course, they shared that information personally.
Even if Marcus was here, requesting him by name would be a violation of privacy that the club strictly enforced. They would never give away the real names of their guests, request or not.
I fucked up. This was not a good idea.
The Dom left the doorway, the curtain swaying back in place. Trevor refrained from sighing his relief, but slumped back in the chair, nevertheless.
The clock ticked time by without a care as to his growing apprehension and self-doubt.
I haven’t done this in over five years. I’m way out of my league, especially in this place.
He could still leave, give up his position in the waiting room, and search the island tomorrow in hopes of spotting Marcus.
What if he’s here with another man? What if he’s forgotten about me? I left him, remember?
Foolish, really. He had loved Marcus, but the stress of the man’s job, the class differences, and ultimately his father’s pronounced threat drove Trevor away from the one and only person he had ever felt complete with.
The Dom returned, a blindfold in his hand, and pointed to Trevor. “You. With me.”
Trevor swallowed and pressed to his feet. He could feel the numerous other subs watching him as he faced what should have been an exciting adventure, but he quickly reconsidered to dub it his demise.
The Dom handed him the blindfold. “You’ll don this until you are instructed to take it off.”
Trevor nodded, more of a twitch in his neck than a confident motion of a submissive. He pulled the soft material onto his forehead and eased it over his eyes. The Dom took him by the wrists and brought his hands behind his back. The leather cuffs he wore tugged and Trevor heard a click. When he tried to pull his arms apart, he discovered the Dom had bound his wrists together.
Keeping one hand on Trevor’s restrained hands, the Dom began to lead him to his room.
“How should I address you?” Trevor asked, his voice timid. The Dom didn’t answer. The noises of the exhibition area faded behind them and the air around him grew warmer. He couldn’t see a thing through or around the blindfold, but the sensual aromas of spice, wood, and leather tickled his nostrils.
The Dom tugged his wrists, bringing him to a halt. There was a knock on a door, followed by a husky “Enter.”
My god, what have I done to myself?
He didn’t want two Doms. He wanted one, and he wanted Marcus. Tempering his rising panic, Trevor followed the Dom’s guidance into the room until his cuffs were tugged again and he stopped. After a short moment of rustling at his back, he felt the chain between the cuffs resist, then loosen, his arms falling to his sides.
“Your submissive, Sir.”
“You may go.”
Trevor controlled each breath that entered his lungs. The click of the door closing behind the Dom—or who he had mistaken as a Dom—made him jerk.
“By signing the paperwork and contract, you have willingly consented to the role as a submissive. I have agreed to the contract as Dom. However, I always clarify a few things personally before I get started.”
Trevor tilted his head, trying to hear the footsteps of his assigned Dom. The man’s voice was rich and husky, jam-packed with authority. There was a sexy edge in that husk, something that slipped deep below his skin and stir a heightened arousal to life. He sensed a familiarity but dismissed it as a creation of his wishful thinking.
“You will hear others call me Sir, but you will address me as Master from this point on. Understood?”
“Yes.” Trevor shifted his weight, waiting for the next order.
“Yes what?”
Starting bad, Trev. “Yes, Master. My apologies. It will not happen again, Master.”
“Good.”
That single, breathy word came from close by, off to his left. A brush of heat teased his arm, an essence of currents more than actual touch that caused his cock to twitch. The stirring arousal intensified as he felt the presence of his Dom come closer. The scent of cologne, something erotic and earthy, made his mouth water.
“I prefer my subs without clothing.”
Trevor licked his bottom lip. “Shall I disrobe, Master?”
“Yes.”
Good thing he decided to leave his shirt and shoes in the locker room. Slowly, he unfastened the button on the cheap nylon pants and peeled them down his legs. His cock jutted forth, the kiss of air caressing his moist crown. He nearly moaned, but swallowed down the instinctual urge to respond to the small delight.
“You will come to me, undress, and present yourself on your knees until I instruct you otherwise.”
Trevor lowered himself to his knees. “Yes, Master.”
The toe of a boot nudged his knees further apart. A single finger pressed to the top of his head, forcing his face lower. Complete submission.
“Perfect,” Master murmured. “I inspect my subs to make sure they are to my liking.”
Trevor closed his eyes behind the blindfold and listened to the subtle brush of air as Master moved around him. He could feel the heat in the man’s gaze, raking up and down his body.
“What is your safe word?” Master asked. The man drew the tip of a single finger down his spine, disk by disk. Trevor kept each breath controlled, Master’s simple yet taunting stroke squeezing pre-cum from his cock.
“Willow, Master,” Trevor said, his voice thick and heady. The man’s finger stilled, then lifted away from his warming flesh.
“Willow,” Master repeated thoughtfully. The soft footfall immediately to his right drew his attention. He inhaled, catching the earthy scent of leather and cologne. “Nice form, pet. You may stand.”
Trevor pressed to his feet, swaying briefly. His dick throbbed, his balls ached, and all of his previous anxiety washed away. He was turned on and excited, ready to accept whatever his Master delivered. If it wasn’t Marcus, he’d simply imagine every slap, every whip, every bit of punishment he received tonight was by his former lover’s hand.
Chapter Three
Willow.
Marcus trembled beneath the surface of his flesh at the reminder of their last sexual encounter. A romantic dinner in the hills of Napa Valley, watching the sun set from beneath a weeping willow tree. The air that evening whispered of love everlasting, and he and Trevor proved their love right there, on the blanket they’d set out, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Then Trevor vanished, breaking his heart in his ab
sence.
As the man stood up to his full height, each well-formed cord of muscle tense beneath his scrutiny, Marcus resigned to the very fact that he had never stopped loving Trevor. He would’ve done anything to keep Trevor with him, by his side where he belonged, but the man never gave him a chance. Hell, he didn’t even know why the man left to begin with.
Tonight, he intended to give Trevor a taste of the pain he’d endured over these torturous years.
Marcus dropped his gaze to the man’s erect dick. The bulbous head shimmered with cream, the long, rigid shaft thick and red beneath the lighting. He grabbed his own cock tightly encased in his leather pants and palmed his achy shaft.
Enough sentiment. Time to punish.
Marcus flexed his fingers, stretching the leather, fingerless gloves around his palms. With the handle of his crop, he traced Trevor’s inner thighs and smiled when the man twitched.
“Excited, pet?”
“Yes, Master.”
Marcus chuckled, allowing the sultry sound to wash over Trevor. The man sucked in a deep breath when Marcus drew the handle between the round globes of his ass.
“I think we’ll leave the blindfold on for the time being,” Marcus said, nudging the man’s lower back with the crop. “Move forward.”
Trevor took an unsteady step, followed by another.
Marcus tapped Trevor’s left outer thigh with the crop. “Shift right.” Trevor hesitated, turning slowly until Marcus tapped his right thigh. “Enough.”
Marcus came up behind him and eased his feet apart with the toe of his boot until he was lined up with the cuffs resting on the floor. Coming around to his front, Marcus dragged the edge of the crop down his spine, his ass, and followed the form of Trevor’s hips to his abdomen. He couldn’t suppress the satisfied smirk when the man’s cock jerked, his slit glistening with fresh pre-cum. He traced the molds of each abdominal muscle upward, observing the way his stomach twitched. Once he reached Trevor’s well-defined chest, he scraped the corner of the crop across each nipple.
Trevor shuddered, goose bumps erupting over his arms, but shied away from the crop despite the evidence of his enjoyment.
“Don’t move,” Marcus demanded. Trevor straightened his shoulders, puffing out his chest. Marcus teased each nipple again, pleased that his sub took the strokes without moving. He scraped the man’s nipples a third time, followed by a light tap of the flat portion of the leather. Trevor’s nostrils flared and his jaw shifted as he ground his teeth. His cock swelled even more, squeezing out wetness. “Good boy. Lift up your arms.”
Trevor obeyed. Marcus secured each wrist in a leather cuff attached to either end of a steel bar, then crouched down and secured the man’s ankles in a similar fashion. Once finished, he went to the wall and tightened the slack of the upper bar, securing the chain on a hook beside the crank.
“Comfortable?” Marcus asked, choosing one of his frozen toys, along with a custom-made glove fitted with dull spikes along the fingertips to elicit stimulation. As much as he wanted to dive into a full scene, he needed to take it easy on this first night.
Reacquainting myself with you, baby.
“Yes, Master.”
“I expect your behavior to be impeccable. You will do as I say and follow each of my directions precisely. You will not be allowed to ejaculate in this room and I will not accept a loss of control. Do you understand, boy?”
“I understand, Master.”
“Every time you disobey, you will get spanked or cropped, depending on how bad you misbehaved.”
Marcus heard Trevor swallow. He chuckled, tucking the crop under his arm and pulling the glove on his left hand. He turned the ice massager over in his right hand and hovered the frozen tip between Trevor’s shoulder blades.
“Do not make a sound, pet.”
Marcus lowered the cold toy against Trevor’s spine. The man jerked, arching his back. The chains holding the steel bar overhead rattled—a shiver of excitement skirted along Marcus’s body—but Trevor remained silent. Marcus followed the curve of his spine with the toy, dipping out along his ribs as he made his way to the hollow of his lower back. Tremor after tremor skated down Trevor’s body, but he had settled back onto his heels.
Marcus hooked the crop through one of his belt loops, tracing the iced toy upward again. He reached between Trevor’s legs and taunted his inner thigh with the spiked glove. His hips jerked to the side and a soft cuss flew off his lips.
“Uh-uh,” Marcus said. He couldn’t help the satisfied grin that claimed his lips as he switched the iced toy to his gloved hand. “Naughty pet.”
He palmed the man’s right ass cheek roughly, then issued five hard, consecutive spanks. Trevor moaned with each one, finally silencing his pleasure by the fifth contact. Marcus moved to his left cheek and delivered the same punishment. This time, Trevor kept his delight to himself.
Marcus’s hunger had all but consumed him as he shifted the icy toy back to his free hand and ran the cold wetness along Trevor’s sides. The man’s muscles were taut and tense, the finest of tremors rippling under the erotic red lighting, fueling desires he had stashed away for far too long. Desires only Trevor could quench.
“Very good, pet. How do you feel?” Marcus asked, his voice thick and husky, permeating sexual energy and delivering a bout of control he certainly wasn’t feeling.
“Alive.” That single raspy word swelled between them, twisting the air into something far more personal and intimate. Could it be possible Trevor knew Marcus was his Master?
Marcus touched two fingers of his gloved hand to the erogenous zone just below Trevor’s ear. The man visibly shivered. The earthy aroma of his cream intensified and a quick glance around his impressive berth gave Marcus all the evidence of his increased arousal. He didn’t think the man’s cock could swell to that thickness or glisten with so much pre-cum. If it had been any average sub, he would’ve had their cocks covered to prevent a possible mess.
This was Trevor. The game rules changed. Right now, he wanted to lick that juice and savor the flavor he had been missing.
Shifting his jaw to alleviate the ache that had set in, Marcus drew a slow path along Trevor’s neck with the spiny glove. The man twitched, his lips in a firm line as he fought to restrain from vocalizing his obvious pleasure.
“You enjoy this, don’t you pet?” Marcus taunted, stepping around to Trevor’s front.
“Y–yes, Master.” His voice was hot, strained, and brimming with the challenge of keeping himself under control.
It could damn well make him blow in his pants.
Marcus rested his full hand against Trevor’s flesh as he followed the curve of his thick shoulder and dragged the spines along his ribs to come under his pecs. The man made the slightest motion with his hips, a silent plea for more that hadn’t changed in five years.
He recalled how sensitive his lover’s nipples had been to the faintest touch. He was about to turn up the enjoyment.
He traced the curve of Trevor’s pec, then slowly cut across the solid plane of bronzed muscle to tease his hard nipple with the glove.
“Shit,” Trevor breathed, jerking against his restraints. Chains rattled and his body twisted, first away from Marcus’s touch, then into the spines. “Oh. My. God.”
Marcus pulled away and tsked. “Shame, shame, pet. You’re supposed to be quiet.” He stepped up to Trevor’s side and unhooked the crop from his belt loop. “Bad.”
“I’m sorry, Master. I–I couldn’t help it,” Trevor said, his voice shaking with an elation that fed Marcus’s hunger for more. He gave Trevor’s ass a few gentle taps with the leather strip of the crop, observing the man stiffen.
Marcus positioned himself and began his punishment, each snap of the crop against flesh hardening his cock. By the end of his ten lashings, Trevor shook, his hands fisted in the cuffs, the tension dripping away from his muscles.
“You must enjoy my punishment,” Marcus said, returning to his position before Trevor and teasing his ne
glected nipple. The man still jerked, from arms to cock, but he bit his lip and stayed quiet. Marcus crept down the terrain of Trevor’s abs and, using the back of his gloved finger that lacked any stimulating enhancements, traced the underside of Trevor’s cock. “How badly do you want to come, pet?”
“I’m close, Master. I–I don’t know how much more I can take.”
The red lighting magnified the thin sheen of sweat that touched Trevor’s hairline, his cheeks, and his nose. Placing the ice toy on the spanking bench behind him, Marcus combed his fingers into Trevor’s soft, thick hair and yanked his head back. The man’s upper lip curled back, his teeth clenched, an expression of sheer aching desire masking his face.
Breaking rules for you, baby.
Ah, yes. Delightfully breaking rules for his handsome ex-lover to see just how far he could push the man. He didn’t want to end their session any earlier than necessary, but Trevor would not find relief in the form of orgasm while in his presence tonight.
Marcus stepped flush to Trevor, grabbing his neck close to his jaw with his specialty glove. His cock nudged his sub’s, his chest brushing along the man’s like an airy caress. Trevor had always been so sensitive to sensation, and he watched his sweet pet unraveled before his eyes.
Bringing his mouth very close to Trevor’s ear, he whispered, “You will take as much as I give you, boy. You’ll take it all and swallow it down and enjoy it.”
“Yes,” Trevor hissed. “Master.”
Marcus let his hand drop away from his neck, scraping an erotic path down to Trevor’s hip. He stepped back, moving away from his sub, giving the man time to come off that heightened precipice of intense arousal and regain his composure. Marcus stole a taste of Trevor’s juice from the glove—holy fuck, I’ve missed your essence—before removing it from his hand and returning the ice toy to the freezer. The bottles of water were a tempting distraction, his own skin slick with a very fine sheen of perspiration. The room seemed to warm up tremendously, but a quick glance at the thermostat assured him it was at a comfortable seventy-two degrees.
His gaze drifted back to Trevor, who remained bound with his arms and legs outstretched, probably anticipating his next move. A lump formed in his throat and he palmed his cock through his pants, the ache growing unbearable. His body hummed with want, with need, and he couldn’t take what stood so close.