by Talon P. S.
Trenton and Diesel watched—watched as Paris’ mind and his body slowly became aware of his restraints. First his head that tugged on his wrists then back to his head. It was this simplemata nawa shibari, the crotch rope that had started it. The stimulation delivered to his testicles and cock was waking him up and now the rest of him twitched and flexed against the bindings, testing and seeking what motion was availed to him. Paris was quickly finding out Diesel had left him with very little. And that seemed to click in his head, because quiet suddenly Paris’ struggles doubled.
Paris’ shoulders tensed, rolled forward, but that only lifted his wrists and once again the crotch rope shifted and he moaned from the stimulation. His chest and ribs shifted side to side, the minute inch or less he could manage. His hips managed even less nothing more than a flinch. More twitching and tensing—the peak of his panic coming to a crescendo and Paris finally let out a curse.
“Sonnaffa ffitch!” It was the best he could do with the damn horse bit in his mouth.
Paris did all he could to shift or loosen his bindings. Taking deep breathes he pumped his chest up, he twisted, curled and tensed—straining his muscles as hard as he could, but nothing gave and his masters gave no indication that there was anything he could do. They merely watched as he came apart. Nothing that showed on their face concerned them that he might break loose and then it struck him that while he couldn’t move much, the ropes were not overly tight and despite his struggles, nothing seemed to slip or start to cut. He couldn’t move, but he wasn’t in pain either. Just that one line of rope stroking his balls up and down against his groin every time he tried to move his head or his wrists.
As suddenly as the panic began, the energy required to maintain it vanished. Paris surrendered. His head falling back, his shoulders relaxed and he settled down letting his breathing slow. Only then did his masters return to him.
Paris closed his eyes for a long moment listening to his heart beat pounding in his ears willing his chest to take deeper and slower breaths.
“That’s it breath.” Paris listened to his Dominus; the deep soothing voice. Still he kept his eyes closed, as Dominus’ hand stroke over his chest, fingering around the ropes and it felt oddly very arousing. “You did very well.”
Trenton added his other hand and Paris moaned to have the sensation of both hands smoothing over his body. God it felt good, strong firm fingers pressed into his taut muscles running along the bindings, easy him. Stimulating him, heating him.
“Very good.” Trenton said again. “Just remember, you have no control over what happens to you, but trust your master that you will never be harmed. Never be pushed further then your master feel you can handle.”
Paris could hear something at his legs. He knew Diesel was there, but he was afraid to look, afraid to know what was coming next. Better to just lay there with eyes closed and focus on Trenton. Trust, he wouldn’t be hurt.
But that idea was shot to hell when he felt the cool gel being smeared against the rear entrance of his ass. Eyes popped open, head up—damn—the rope. The groan escaped him and his head dropped back down.
“Relax. You can take this.” He heard Diesel telling him. And the first of the penetration began, slowly easing in. Pushing the tight ring of muscle to make access, a little in—a little in—then out. That fist stretch of teasing pleasure in pain. Paris let out his breath with a heavy pant.
Trenton’s hand moved to Paris’ head and running his fingers through his hair, but watching Diesel and Paris saw Dominus give him a nod. Seconds later he heard the hum then felt the object pushing against his ass again only with an added vibrating sensation and Diesel pushed it in. Paris’s nerves lit up as the vibrator pushed further—backed out a bit then pushed in again. Each time a little further, teasing, Paris wriggled as much as the rope would allow, the gel warming then tingling. God, to hell with the teasing and easing in, he just wanted to feel it all the way. Wanted to feel that sweet sensation of being fully stretched. He moaned his pleas as best he could against the mouth bit, “Oh—gahf—flease.”
His gaze shot up to Trenton who was looking down at him now and he gave him the strongest pleading expression he thought he could create.
“Relax, you’ll have what you need, but at the pace we decide for you and not before.” And as if to prove a point the vibrator disappeared.
“Ahhf—ffucg. No.” Paris’ eyes rolled to the back of his head, dreading the loss of sensation from whatever it was Diesel had used to prod his sphincter.
The humming sound changed and then he felt it returned to his body and just like the sound, the sensation changed to something more of a strobing sensation and Diesel pushed it all the way in with one easy solid stroke. The stretch was just as Paris was aching for—sweet and exquisite. He groaned against his bit. The anal plug reached deep, delivering a throbbing, vibrating pulse. Paris' rectal muscles clamped down, hugging at the sensation and he discovered he could get just enough pivot out of his hips to tweak out an extra bite to the intrusion, but as good as it felt, it would not be enough to cheat out an orgasm if they chose to withhold it from him.
There was a click and the pulsing vibration picked up in frequency and Paris moaned again. His body tingling and he could feel the pain build, a need for an orgasm that would not come easily. The body knew this before the mind did and that tantalizing ride was suddenly laced with agonizing pain, because it knew what it couldn’t have.
And then it stopped. Paris opened his eyes to find Diesel now at his side looking down at him. He held something up. A narrow black object. A remote.
“We're going to let a few members become acquainted with you now. Sasha and his twin Subbies." Diesel stroked Paris’ head, his strong grip reassuring him it was really his touch. Paris wanted more of that, something so foolish as Diesel's hand on him, that hot palm petting him like last night. And despite the risk of pulling on the crotch line he pressed against Diesel’s palm, rolling his head into the caress.
“I’m going to let them enjoy touching you as I have, but just remember your orgasm is mine.” And Diesel stepped away.
Paris jerked his head, but saw Dominus was also stepping away. No, wait, what was that about the others? He didn’t have to wait for that answer. Immediately the tall blond dressed in gothic blacks, he saw sitting next to the club’s owner, was first to step up. Sasha’s hands immediately gliding over his chest.
“God your beautiful—look at those muscles.” Sasha’s hand gripped at Paris’ muscle pecks, trapped in the bound coils of rope and squeezed. “Look at those gorgeous red nipples.” And just as the big Dom lowered to lick at them, the plug in his ass started up. Again doing something new. Vibrating as it did the first time Paris also felt it expand as if it was thrusting forwards, elongating inside him then back, lengthening, and then returning. The dual sensation in his ass paired with the fervent suckling giving by the Dom bent over him was—oh god—he didn’t know what to call it but it was good—Real good. And his nerves fired off climbing higher.
His cock was swelling till it was so hard it ached, but it did not go without for long. Two pairs of hands sliding up his thighs, up his loins “Dom may we?” Paris heard a duet of voices make the request.
“Mmm—who am I to deny my twin Subbies such a beautiful feast—
huh?” Sasha stood up and circled around Paris till he was behind him, the Dom leaned over Paris, his hands stroking down Paris’ chest and over his abdomen then back up, “I think I am going to let them suck you off so I can watch.”
Paris strained to lift his head against the bit to see the twins kneeling at his legs, beyond them, Trenton and Diesel watching as they said they would while relaxed back on the sofa against the wall.
“May we enjoy your slave tonight? Dominus, Patronus.” Sasha respectfully requested permission. Paris had already been offered, but the request came out of ceremony. A requirement for such sharing from these two.
“Enjoy until we say otherwise.” Paris heard the permission g
ranted and then the teasing vibrating plug began another sensation—the thrusting, extending feeling was rotating like a wobbling tip and that was just a little too much to fathom as it rolled over the tender prostate. Paris moaned, and he moaned loud. Sasha who still leaned over him never stopping his broad strokes up and down his body and the two Subs, Paris could not see more than their black cyber dreads were lathing over his cock with their paired hands and fondled his tightening sacks.
Still trying to decipher the accumulation of stimulation Paris felt another… in unison two tongues darted around his shaft flicking about like dainty wet fairies dancing over his cock and his thighs. He could no longer comprehend what the twins were doing to him. If only he could look and see then perhaps some of what they were doing would make sense, but he could barely make sense of the gyrating, pulsing toy in his rear as it extended and stretched his walls and his senses. Both overwhelming pleasures mingled with the broad strokes of Sasha’s hands on his body.
Paris’ whole body was building and firing off like electric fires igniting at different frequencies. He wanted to move, to create some form of rhythm in his body to ride it up where he could handle it all, but the sensations—they all moved at different paces, not at all in sync with each other and it was maddening. Fuck it was too much. He strained and fought against his restraints. Once more panic seized his body and mind. He needed to control some part of the stimulations he was feeling, but he gained nothing and still the invigorating attack of sensations possessed him. Accelerating. Devouring his mind and every sensory he had.
Then just when he thought he was going to lose his mind being teased to dear saccharine death, one of the mouths took him in, his hard rod sinking all the way into the back of the Sub's mouth. Finally warm comprehensible bliss. “Ahhh—” He couldn't even prevent the relieved groan rattle out from his throat. Fuck it was incredible. And his mind was finally able to take in what was happening and set some comprehension and definition to what he felt and it all felt exquisitely good. To be fully overpowered by the snug coils of rope as a combination of hands and mouths licked to their own delight on his body. He was not a willing participant, but rather the subject. Like a popsicle being devoured by all on a hot summer day. He could do nothing, but melt in their hands and in their mouths. He could not return the sensations or the pleasure to these three nor could he take from them. He got what they gave. And the advanced piece of technology in his ass… that one was still riding him higher, every few minutes its pace and frequency shifting and building, eliciting more of his nerves to tremble. He could feel the building elation, felt his need to peek stirring. He just wasn’t sure which form of stimulation was going to get him there first.
The blonde Dom moved his hands rolling over his shoulders and down his arms messaging at his muscles caught in the binding sleeve till they reached his wrists.
“Yeah—” Paris heard the man as he continued to hold his wrists steady with one hand… the other? Well he wasn’t sure where it went, but the answer came quickly when Paris felt the man’s cock slide in between his hands, “Cup your hands so I can fuck them.”
Paris did as he was told and right away the Dom was pumping his long hard cock into his bound palms. The pressure pushed at his arms which then pulled at the ropes against his scrotum adding further opulence to the two mouths that continued to work his own cock, one sucking while the other licked at his loins and tight sack. At some indiscernible point Paris thought the two switched, because the style changed with it and again the device in his ass changed. A different combination of pulses and extending movements, pulsing up, then pulsing down.
God he was going to cum, his whole body shook. He could feel the violent storm pitching in his direction. He was moaning not to stop now—god was that him? Had he ever moaned in such a way? Grunted and growled maybe, but that was when he was in control. That was when he was doing all the fucking. Hell he wasn’t in control of anything right now. And so many things—Sasha’s hands were back reaching around his sides stroking his abdomen pinching his nipples hard then back to stroking his chest. Oh god he was almost there. Paris twitched, pivoted his hips against his ropes. He knew he couldn’t do anything, yet he couldn’t help his body’s need to try to thrust either. That animalistic brutish need to pump down into the Sub’s mouth. The muscles of his dark regions tightening. His breath ripped through his chest—too much luscious fervor drenched him, sensitizing him. God this was incredible.
“Enough!” The stout command split through every sensation he had and everything— the mouths, the hands, the gadget, even the cock he held in his hands were gone.
What the? Oh god no! You can’t possibly mean to do this right? Frantic need demanded he beg for more. “No— No-ho-ho-ho. Pleaff.” Paris’ body trembled and begged unwillingly despite the mouth bit—To be so close and suddenly nothing—to have rampant pleasure stripped away, only the lingering, deprived pang to cum remained. He fell utterly still; just panting—he could do nothing. No amount of movement would change that, would bring those two sweet mouths back to his cock or restart the device deeply planted in his shaft or bring back the Dom who used his palms for his own pleasure. All he could do was remain quiet, remain still, focus on regaining his breath and hopefully the masters that controlled his life would give it all back and let him reach his release. He could hope.
Diesel and Trenton watched silently. It amazed them how well Paris kept quiet. They had expected him to fight and thrust—to buck at his restraints considerably, but he didn’t, not for long at least. Surrendering much quicker than he had when they first bound him.
The upstairs space was filled with the erotic sounds of moaning—from others involved in their own play and soon the delectable sound of a leather flogger cracked against the skin of a Sub.
The sounds swarmed around their new Slave tormenting him further as he awaited their next wishes to begin. They had allowed Sasha and his two Subs to have their way for almost thirty minutes and now they made him wait it out an excruciating five with nothing. Even Sasha was looking like he was ready to chomp at the bit if they didn’t let the threesome resume their pleasure with the man.
Trenton tapped Diesel’s arm and he set the remote to begin a series of sensations intended to slowly build up, drop, then build up a little more, drop again then on the third wave deliver the much needed orgasm. Paris jumped, his whole body strained when the gadget inside his ass started back up and the moans were already waiting for him. A nod from Trenton and Sasha commanded his Subbies back to their delicious meal while he placed his aching cock back into the caresses of Paris’s bound hands.
The symphony of erotic connections began again and several members not already caught up in their own scenes gathered to watch as the intensity built. Paris' deep moans filled the gathering room, every muscle in his body strained against the ropes as his orgasm built up to the surface. Sasha’s head tossed back with heavy pants husked from his throat and his hips began to thrust violently. Even the twins had found additional ways to add to their pleasure stroking each other’s cock while they continued to suck and lick at the engorged shaft of their subject. So hard and tight, it was going to explode any moment now.
Paris’ mind was spinning like a top from one sensation on his body to the next each coming to its own crescendo. Even the erotic and brutish fucking taking place in his hands was a heady wave of stimulation. Though he was certain his palms could not ejaculate, the rest of his body could and it was coming quickly.
Paris’ muscles bunched. Damn it he wanted to thrust, wanted to power drive into the succulent mouth that kept licking at him. His cock sinking all the way to the young Sub’s throat, so damn good. Oh god he was being destroyed, brought to the edge of ecstasy and destruction and would find them both in one fatal shove off the cliff. Paris was losing his mind under such quickening rapture. How it waved through his body, heated him, throbbed just under his balls, his cock ached for release. He was going to come and his mentality was going to shoot ou
t his cock with it. His whole body would explode if it weren’t for the ropes holding him down. Throbbing and vibrating. The twisting and extending implement in his ass hit its peak on the third building wave and Paris couldn't take it any long.
“Come now, Paris.” The command was a whisper in his ear.
“Dominus?” His eyes popped open to find Trenton standing over him his fingers combing through his hair.
“Remember it belongs to me. Come for me now Paris.”
As if his body had truly awaited the command, permitting him his own release everything locked, muscles strained and Paris bit down on the rubber portion of his bit. Lightening shot through his body and exploded in his scrotum and from his prostate gland racing and pulsing its escape out his cock. His body shook and that shaking became violent against the ropes that held him. He couldn't thrust, couldn’t ride his own orgasm, but the command was made and his body obeyed—so intense he could only feel the waving pulse—wave after wave, strong flowing tidal waves of tumultuous crashing sensations rolling from his head to his groin and out. He could only imagine the Subbie that had him in his mouth now was likely drowning. Groaning cries clenched past steel filled his ears, spilling out the last of his awareness till the last of the surge idled down, even the gadget hidden deep inside him seemed to sense the crest his body reached and slowed down its own rhythmic sensation easing him down until it finally stopped.
He felt the two mouths lapping up his belly taking what they had apparently spilled. He felt the Dom’s lips on the side of his face, thanking him for such a wonderful orgasm. How strange was that? To be thanked? Hell he hadn’t done anything, but lay here unable to move or participate to assist.
But Paris mind was drifting now. His body completely spent and going limp. His tormentors leaving him. As if being lulled into a dreamy sensation, Paris hardly noticed their absence. He felt the strong firm hand on his head stroking his hair, Patronus’ hand. He’d know that touch from anywhere, though he couldn’t find enough energy to open his eyes to confirm it. Drifting—rocking, like floating in a near napping sensation on a raft on the ocean.