Hank, startled, yelped and jumped forward, his hands falling away from the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he cried, getting back into position. “Sorry, Sir.”
Avery silently accepted the apology, pleased Hank had taken the immediate step of getting back into position without being reminded. He was taking this seriously, and that was a good start.
For the next several minutes, Avery alternated caresses with smacks, striking Hank’s ass and the backs of his thighs with a cupped palm until the skin was a pleasing, rosy red. Hank was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling as he processed the erotic pain.
Deeming he was ready, Avery picked up the single tail. He whipped it through the air, letting the tip catch Hank’s ass. Hank yelped, again falling out of position, his hands flying to the angry, red mark left by the whip. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow,” he cried.
Avery half expected him to pull out the plugs and rip away the sleep mask. He stood, waiting to see what Hank would do.
To his delight, Hank said again, “Sorry. I’m sorry, Sir. That really caught me by surprise.” He was speaking loudly, the way people did when they couldn’t hear what was going on around them. Hank put his hands back behind his head. He was trembling ever so slightly, but his cock remained as erect as before.
Avery moved to stand in front of Hank. On an impulse, he dropped to his knees and took Hank’s hard, silky-smooth shaft into his mouth. Hank moaned as Avery sucked and licked him. He would have enjoyed bringing his lover to orgasm, but he hadn’t earned it yet.
Hank mewled with frustration when Avery let his cock fall from his lips, but he kept his position. “Good boy,” Avery said aloud, though Hank couldn’t hear him. He was doing better than Avery had expected for his first formal training session.
Returning to stand behind him, Avery let the single tail find its mark again, this time on Hank’s other cheek. Hank cried out again, but managed to keep his position.
Power and lust thrumming through his blood like music, Avery danced around his sexy sub, alternating tenderness with erotic pain as he stroked, struck and whipped the boy until Hank was trembling like an aspen leaf, sweat slicking his flushed skin.
Finally dropping the whip, Avery placed his hands on Hank’s shoulders and pushed him gently but firmly, so that Hank dropped to his knees. Moving to stand in front of him, Avery took Hank’s head in his hands and guided his own throbbing cock past Hank’s parted lips.
He moved slowly, sliding his erection forward until the head was lodged against the back of Hank’s throat. Hank gagged a little, but didn’t try to resist. Thrilled, Avery moved in and out of his sub’s mouth, moaning his approval as the friction mounted. He came suddenly, spasms of pleasure hurtling through his body. Hank managed to swallow every drop.
Avery pulled the sleep mask from Hank’s eyes and plucked the plugs from his ears. “I’m very happy with you, Hank,” he said sincerely. “You took what I gave you with grace and courage, and now it’s time for your reward.”
“I did?” Hank’s smile split his face and lit up those dark eyes.
“You did.” Avery led Hank the few steps to the bed and gently pushed him down onto it. Crouching beside him, he took Hank’s cock into his mouth again. He licked and suckled as he stroked Hank’s balls and slid a finger between his ass cheeks to tease his tight asshole. “Come for me,” he instructed. He didn’t stop until Hank ejaculated with a tremulous cry, his hips arching up from the bed as he climaxed.
Avery sidled up next to Hank and pulled him into his arms. As unlikely as he would have thought it when he first met the arrogant, entitled guy who’d called for a rent boy, somehow, it had happened.
Avery had fallen, hook, line and sinker, in love.
Chapter 13
Somehow, Hank managed to slog through five more shifts over the next seven days, though he still wasn’t turning customers around fast enough to suit the pit boss. When Patrick Sullivan stood over him, spewing spittle and wildly gesticulating as he lectured Hank about turnaround time, it was all Hank could do to hold his tongue. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d have definitely lost his temper, punched the guy in the jaw and walked out on the job.
When frustrated or tense, he took comfort by reaching surreptitiously into the shirt of his coveralls to finger Avery’s medallion. Just touching the small gold disk gave him a sense of comfort. It was a reminder that he had something in his life beyond this stressful, minimum wage job. He had someone in his life now—someone he could trust.
“It’s really frustrating,” he confided to Avery one evening over dinner, after an especially annoying exchange with That-Bastard-Patrick, as he’d taken to referring to his boss. “He’s always on my ass to work faster, but the tools they provide us are shit. The other guys all buy their own tools, which seems insane to me, given the pittance we’re paid.”
“Maybe it’s worth it, though,” Avery replied. “I mean, maybe it’s just a cost of doing business, if you want to get ahead at that place.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Hank said, still brooding on the unfairness of it all. Some of the pressure was off financially, at least for a while, as the auction house had sold several of his paintings, allowing him to pay off various bills, with a little left over. He felt bad that he couldn’t yet afford to contribute anything to the household, but Avery assured him it wasn’t a problem, as he didn’t have to pay rent for the loft.
The real estate agent had swept into Hank’s house—or rather, the house he used to occupy—rearranging furniture to stage it, and ordering him to get rid of the “weird exercise equipment” in his playroom. Avery and he had loaded the spanking bench and portable suspension rack into the hatchback and set it up in a corner of the loft they’d designated as their new playroom. They planned to hire a U-Haul to bring over some of his furniture that they’d agreed would go nicely in Avery’s place. He would sell the rest of it at an estate sale.
Avery had laughed at Hank when he’d shown up with six suitcases, which in fact, contained only some of his wardrobe and shoe collection. “My god, do you have a whole department store in there?” he had teased. “I have no idea where you think you’re going to put all that stuff.”
Hank had sheepishly admitted maybe he could get rid of some of it, and together they’d culled his wardrobe. He’d reluctantly agreed that he didn’t really need five identical pairs of Italian loafers, or all two dozen cashmere sweaters he’d had tailormade in Hong Kong. He’d taken the discarded items to an upscale consignment store, something he never would have considered doing back before his father had yanked the financial rug out from under him.
He had to wait a full two weeks before he got his first paycheck, but the day was finally approaching. The work was grueling, but he was getting the hang of it. There was some satisfaction in a job well done. If only That-Bastard-Patrick would get off his back.
“I actually think if I could just tweak the strap wrench, I wouldn’t have to invest in my own tools.”
“Yeah?” Avery said with interest. “What would it take, do you think?”
“Well, I was thinking if I could figure out a way to utilize the power of the air compressor we use to remove nuts and bolts, I might be able to adapt it to the strap wrench. I have some ideas, but I don’t know what it would cost or if it’s even viable.”
“We could go over to Home Depot and maybe get some advice,” Avery suggested.
Hank had never set foot in a Home Depot. “Would they have what I need?”
Avery got to his feet. “One way to find out. Let’s wash up the dinner dishes and then take a ride over there.”
At the Home Depot, they talked with a very helpful employee who seemed to have an immediate understanding of what it was Hank wanted to do. He showed him some simple plumbing fittings that could be used, which Hank could purchase for only a few dollars. He was excited to try the modification. “I’ll go in early so I can try it out before my next shift.”
“It’s a great idea,” Avery enthused. “Maybe you’ll even be able to pate
nt your idea, if it pans out. Good job.”
Hank smiled. He loved Avery’s praise in whatever form it took. Even as he beamed, he marveled at how he’d changed in such a short time. If anyone would have told him only a few months ago that he’d be buying his own plumbing fittings to rig a strap wrench for his minimum wage job at a garage, he’d have laughed them out of the room.
“Before we leave the store,” Avery said, “I want to show you something.” He led Hank to an aisle filled with huge spools of rope and chain.
“Whoa,” Hank laughed. “This looks like a paradise for do-it-yourself BDSM gear.”
“Exactly. I always get an erection when I come down this aisle.” Avery grinned broadly. “It’s a Pavlovian response.”
As they stood in front of all the sexy rope and chain, Avery put his hand on the back of Hank’s neck, the dominant gesture sending Hank almost immediately into a submissive headspace. “I want to buy some rope and chain just for you, sub boy,” he growled softly into Hank’s ear. “We’ll use it to bind you when we get home.”
“Yes, Sir,” Hank breathed softly, all ideas of working on the strap wrench project vanishing from his mind.
Once back in the loft, Avery said, “Ready to try out our new purchases?”
“Yes, Sir,” Hank breathed, instantly hard. A rush of adrenaline shot through his body, even as something deeper and quieter opened inside of him, like a flower spreading its petals.
“Good. Strip and present yourself in the playroom. I’ll be along shortly.”
Excited, Hank went to their playroom. Once naked, he knelt on the padded yoga mat they’d added to the space. He spread his knees and straightened his spine as he gripped his left wrist with his right hand behind his back.
After a while, he fidgeted, eager for his Dom to appear. His cock always got hard when he waited in their dedicated space, wondering what sexy, exciting, boundary pushing session Avery had planned for him. He wanted to shout for Avery to get his butt in there, but he’d learned the hard way that that just made Avery stay away longer. The best thing to do was to close his eyes and focus on his breathing.
It felt like a half hour before Avery finally came to him, but a glance at the clock told Hank it had actually only been about five minutes. Avery held the lengths of chain and rope they’d purchased at the Home Depot in his large, strong hands. As he made his way to the cabinet where they stored their gear and set the purchases down on top of it, Hank eyed him hungrily.
Avery was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a pair of faded jeans. He looked so fucking hot with his massive, furry chest and broad shoulders, not to mention the sexy bulge at his crotch.
Saliva pooled in Hank’s mouth at the thought of sucking Avery’s huge cock. He swallowed and knelt up straighter as his Dom came to stand in front of him. “Are you ready to be bound and used, sub boy?” Avery asked in his deep, sexy voice.
“Yes, Sir,” Hank said a little breathlessly.
Avery nodded. “Hold out your arms in front of you, wrists crossed.”
Hank did as he was told. He watched, fascinated and thrilled, as Avery used some of the thin, soft cotton rope to bind his wrists together. He settled more deeply into himself, sighing with pleasure and arousal as the rope tightened around his wrists.
When Avery had bound Hank’s wrists to his satisfaction, he said, “Get to your feet.”
It was a little awkward to rise without the use of his hands, but Hank managed. His erection bobbed toward Avery like a divining rod.
Avery reached behind Hank’s head, feeling for the clasp of his medallion. “I’m going to take this off you for this session to keep it safe.”
Hank didn’t like the idea of removing the necklace he’d worn constantly since Avery had placed it around his neck, but he’d learned enough since they’d started their BDSM exploration to keep his mouth shut.
Avery slipped the necklace into his jeans pocket. Then he retrieved the length of heavy metal chain they’d chosen together at the store.
Hank drew in a sharp breath when Avery draped the cold, thick links around his neck. Avery had something else in his hand, which Hank now saw was a small padlock. Avery clipped the padlock in place at Hank’s throat. Then he took a step back and smiled, something predatory in his sultry gaze. “It suits you.”
Hank couldn’t deny the weight of the links around his neck turned him on. He was wearing a chain collar, like the hardcore slave boys at The Underground. Before he’d met Avery, he would have categorically refused to allow it. No way was anyone going to collar Sir Henry. But with Avery, it was different. The chain collar was like a gift—an honor. The weight of the links wasn’t enslaving, but freeing.
Gripping Hank by his bound wrists, Avery led him toward the spanking bench. He helped him climb over it, settling so he was facedown, his shins resting on the supports on either side of the bench, his bound arms hanging reasonably comfortably under the bench.
“Move back a little so I have access to your cock and balls.”
Hank scooted back, his now exposed shaft hardening in anticipation of whatever was to come.
Avery used some of the thicker rope to tie Hank down on the bench. As the hemp was pulled taut over his body, Hank’s cock throbbed and his balls tingled with lust. He sighed contentedly, erotic surrender settling over him like a warm, heavy blanket.
Avery stood beside him, his eyes on Hank’s face as he reached back and gripped Hank’s already erect cock. “You wanna come, Hank?” Avery asked.
“Oh, yeah.” At a raised eyebrow from Avery, he amended, “Yes, Sir.”
“Tonight, you’re going to have to earn it.”
A zing of nervous anticipation shot through Hank’s gut. “Yes, Sir,” he whispered.
Avery moved toward the gear counter and rummaged in the cabinet beneath it. Moving to stand in front of Hank, he showed him what he was holding.
“Ouch,” Hank said. “What’re you going to do with those?”
Avery was holding a pair of clover clamps and a handful of small lead fishing weights with tiny clips attached. “I’m going to attach these to your balls. I’m going to make you come, but you’ll have to earn it with erotic pain. Are you willing to suffer for me, Hank?”
Hank’s breath caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the clamps and teardrop lead weights. Slowly, he nodded.
“What’s that? Is that how you address your Sir?”
Hank’s cock ached. Even though he was held down by rope and chain, he understood he still had a choice. Submission was a gift, one he wanted to give to his Dom. “Yes. Yes, Sir. I’m willing.”
“Good boy.”
Avery moved out of Hank’s line of sight. He gripped a bit of the loose skin covering Hank’s testicles between thumb and forefinger. “Breathe,” he counseled Hank.
Hank drew in a deep breath as the first of the clamps bit down on his ball sac. “Ah,” he cried, struggling to adjust to the compression.
“And again,” Avery said. “Breathe.”
His heart hammering, Hank tried to draw in another cleansing breath, but instead only managed to gasp as the second clamp closed over his delicate flesh.
“Good,” Avery soothed. “You’re doing good. Just keep breathing. I’m going to add the weights to the clamp chain, one at a time. Each weight earns you some pleasure. How far you go is up to you.”
The sharp initial pain from the clamps had dulled to a steady, low throb. The pain intensified when Avery added a weight to the chain. As Hank struggled to process the pain, Avery’s big, calloused hand wrapped around the base of Hank’s cock.
Hank groaned with approval as Avery stroked his shaft. “Yeah,” he breathed, the pleasure of Avery’s hand mingling inextricably with the pain of the weighted clamps. “That’s it… yeah…”
Abruptly, Avery’s hand fell away, withdrawing the pleasure, leaving only the pain.
“Hey,” Hank protested breathlessly. “Why’d you stop?”
“I’m not stopp
ing,” Avery murmured in his low, sexy voice. He added a second weight to the chain.
“Fuck,” Hank breathed. “That’s wicked.”
“Isn’t it?” Avery said with a sadistic chuckle.
Then Hank’s shaft was again enveloped in Avery’s perfect grip. The pleasure was even more intense than before, magnified by the erotic pain at his balls, as well as the delicious sensation of being completely immobilized—tied down, naked and exposed, for his lover to do as he wished.
Within a minute or so, Hank’s breathing had become a ragged pant, and his balls tightened in anticipation of a powerful climax.
Then, Avery’s hand once again dropped away.
Hank couldn’t stop his groan of frustration. “Please,” he begged. “Don’t stop, Sir. I need it.”
“You need all of it,” Avery replied. “You ready for another weight?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I don’t know. It hurts, but it’s so good…”
“Ask me for it,” Avery commanded. As he spoke, he gently teased Hank’s cock, running his finger lightly around the crown and in a shivery line down the shaft.
“Please, Sir,” Hank gasped. “I want another weight.” The weird thing was, he really did want it. It wasn’t that he craved the pain in and of itself. It really did fucking hurt! But it was worth it because of the powerful, perfect place the erotic pain, coupled with the blinding pleasure of Avery’s touch, took him.
Another weight was added, the punishing pain immediately soothed by the stroke of Avery’s skilled fingers.
Over and over, Avery brought Hank to the brink of release and then pulled him back, only continuing when Hank agreed to pay the price with another lead weight.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Hank chanted, the weight now on his balls nearly too much to bear. “I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t…”
“You can. You are doing it,” Avery encouraged. “And now it’s time for your reward. You have my advance permission. I want you to come for me.” Avery shifted behind him for several seconds. Hank tried to twist back to see what his Dom was doing, but he was tied down too tightly to move.
Turning the Tables Page 16