by Romilly King
Painter rose and moved behind Brio. Tucking his fingers beneath the bottom line of the waist rope Painter jerked roughly and Brio's dick jumped, and then Painter pulled him around to look in the mirror set into the playroom wall, and Brio was stunned by what he saw.
The ribbons gleamed in the glow of the spotlights and the ropes were opaque against his skin. Every strap of muscle was highlighted, and there was a hunger on Painter's face that Brio has never seen before. The man's pupils were blown, huge and intense, and he stared at Brio like he was the last drink of water in the desert.
Brio couldn’t believe how hot he looked like this. The chest harness felt amazing and the crotch tie that brought his cock front and center was a work of art, but more than that was the knowledge that this was very obviously something Painter could sink into. This was a way for him to let his kink out, but most important of all, the so good thought that sent Brio spiraling higher, was that Painter had read him. Brio had wanted this and Painter had known and had given it to him.
The process of creating the patterns had lulled Brio into a calm mindset, the meticulous detail involved in the knotwork, the touching and the tracing of the linework, it had turned Brio into art and he felt the languid joy of the objectified, made beautiful by what Painter had done.
“See how beautiful you are,” Painter’s voice was soft in his ear, “Let’s make you more beautiful still,”
Painter wrapped his hand in the back of the chest harness and pulled Brio backward, walking him back toward the large leather chair in the corner. His grip was tight but not painful, the ropes distributed the force evenly and the sheer mastery of Painter’s ropework made arousal coil hot and tight in the pit of Brio’s stomach.
“What’s your color, Brio,” Painter asked when he stopped in front of the chair
“Oh green, this is really, really green,” Brio rolled his head back to look up at Painter, “You are so good at this sir,”
“Thank you,” Painter smiled at Brio and reached around and thumbed Brio’s nipple between the ropes of the chest harness.
Brio swallowed a whine.
Painter sat back onto the leather armchair, his legs together and his feet flat on the floor, he dragged Brio down to straddle his lap and pulled him back against his chest. “That’s better,” he said, “Now I can reach more of you,”
Brio was impossibly aware of his body, he was helpless on Painter’s chest, his legs spread open over Painter’s thighs, and his rope framed erection the main attraction.
Painter’s arm was warm around his waist and he started to play with Brio’s nipples again, rolling them gently between his fingers and then tugging at them to test their sensitivity.
Brio whimpered and Painter hummed in approval before pinching them harder and Brio’s hips twitched, rutting forward.
“Do you want me to touch your cock, Brio?” Painter asked,
“Please, Sir,”
“You’re being so good,” Painter’s hand slid lower and tugged at the crotch tie that ran between Brio’s buttocks and either side of his scrotum.
“I’ll always be good, Sir,” Brio gasped,
“Now we both know that’s not true,” Painter cupped his balls, tugging them lightly until Brio squirmed in his lap, “And I don’t want you to be because then I couldn’t punish you,” His hand slid up Brio’s cock and he squeezed the head of it, Brio jerked and pre-come pumped out of the tip of his cock and dribbled down the flange.
“Nice,” Painter said before he scooped the dribble up with his finger and raised it to his mouth, “You taste sweet,” he added after licking his finger clean, “Have you been eating a lot of fruit?”
“Pineapple,” Brio struggled to enunciate, “Pineapple smoothy at lunch,”
“Well it makes you taste delicious,” Painter’s voice was low and so different to his normal tone, “You should have one every day,” He reached down again and rubbed at the frenulum of Brio’s cock and the sudden burst of sensation made Brio arch back and yelp in pleasure.
He felt so helpless and small on Painter’s lap, despite the simplicity of the tie and his legs being free he felt controlled, positioned, defenseless to the touches Painter chose to give him.
“Oh more, please, more Sir,”
Painter’s hand settled around his cock in a loose grip and he began to pump him slowly, it was too dry, his skin, sensitive from the ropes, felt every drag magnified. It was perfect.
“So good, so good, please don’t stop,” Brio was babbling and rutting up into Painter’s grasp, “Please, tighter, more, more,”
“You’re such a toppy little bastard,” Painter’s chuckle was amused, “But you’ve been such a good boy tonight,” His grip tightened and he added a twist over the head of Brio’s cock on the upstroke.
The glide was smoother now, Brio’s precome easing the way, and Painter was a fucking expert. He cupped Brio’s balls with one hand, tugging on them lightly, whilst the other slid up and down his cock with perfect friction, the grip just tight enough, and his thumb flicking at the sensitive frenulum.
“Oh god please can I come?” Brio leaned back on Painter’s wide chest and his widespread thighs quivered, the muscles jerking as he tried to rut up into Painter’s touch.
“Because you asked, because you didn’t just let go, you can come,”
Brio was overjoyed, “Oh thank you, I didn’t think you’d let me, “
“I won’t always,” Painter sounded almost amused, “But tonight I will, come for me baby, come now,”
The orgasm that hit Brio was like being washed away by a wave. He held his breath as his body jerked and his come shot over Painter’s hand and his own belly. He could feel the rope between his buttocks rubbing against his spasming asshole and he let out a long low groan as Painter worked him through the shockwaves.
“Beautiful, Brio,” Painter’s croon was a warm blanket that wrapped around Brio, “That was gorgeous, I am so pleased with you,”
Brio relaxed back on Painter’s chest and tilted his head to look him in the face, “You were awesome,” he whispered and Painter’s smile filled him with as much pleasure as the orgasm had.
Painter stroked Brio’s hair off his forehead, “We better get you out of these ropes and cleaned up,” he said, “It’s nearly time for your spanking,”
“Don’t need spanking tonight,” Brio said lazily, “Totally chilled out and good now thanks,”
“What makes you think the spanking is just for you?” Painter asked.
“Not fair,” Brio complained, “I’ve been good, I shouldn’t have to be spanked, please Painter,” He gave Painter is best sweet submissive look.
“You are so beguiling when you do that,” Painter pressed a kiss to his forehead, “It makes the thought of reddening your ass even nicer,”
“Sadist,”
“Apparently so, and I can tell you, after this scene, I’m feeling pretty dom’d up at the moment so expect a blistering,”
Chapter Six
Painter and the hot flesh beneath his hand
What a night, Painter thought, what an eye-opening, crotch tightening, flesh tingling night. His palm still stung from Brio’s pre-bedtime spanking and he could still smell him on his skin.
He was too wired to go home and sleep, too aroused - and God he loved that arousal, wanted to keep it glowing inside him, feeding it memories of Brio in the rope to make it flare – so instead he wandered around Brio’s house in the semi-dark, taking in the distant lights of the city from the wide windows and prowling the rooms like some kind of dominant guard dog, patrolling the perimeter of his sub.
He liked it here. He liked the house, he liked Brio and he really liked what they did together. Spanking Brio wasn’t just a turn on, it was fucking delicious.
And the Shibari, bloody hell, who knew just tying someone up made you feel like that? Seeing Brio standing pliant and patient within his ribbons and ropes, willingly putting himself in Painter’s hands, it had made him feel both powerful and privi
leged.
He hadn’t expected the actual domination to feel like that. In his imagination, he had thought it would be like a technical trial – do this, tie that, be safe, make pretty – but the reality was so much more than that. Experiencing the give and take of energy between himself and Brio, that entwining connection, that could get addictive, real quick.
Painter’s instruction at Delphic was proceeding at an astonishing speed, impact play, sensation play, shibari, and consent, he was learning it all fast, but the big thing he realized was that the other subs he had interacted with during training didn’t hold a candle to Brio. Brio’s body was interesting to Painter in ways no one else had ever been. It produced new sensations in his being, awakened feelings and instincts he didn’t know he possessed.
Just seeing Brio naked and vulnerable, and knowing that he was in charge of him, was the one responsible for working out ways to do what they both desired, that not only had him hard in his shorts but had the blood flowing away from his brain, making him hazy on why he had been so reluctant to do this.
Painter realized his life had changed in profound ways and going back to the way it had been before, he didn’t think he could do that – this was going to be his new normal and he had no idea how he felt about that.
He wandered into the kitchen and leaned on the worktops looking out into the night. His face was a ghost against the black glass. He should be tired but he wasn’t, he felt full of energy, and he couldn’t stop the small smile the played across his lips. Why was he so happy?
This contract had already run weeks passed what he was used to and he guessed that being more settled in his life wasn’t a bad thing. He was staying in one place for the foreseeable future rather than skipping around the globe on short term contracts. He had made a new and solid connection with Tay, his trainer, and that was good – they are going to a club on Thursday because there are some things Tay just couldn’t ethically demonstrate in the training environment – and he thought Richard, if not Ash, could become a friend if the contract went on much longer.
Friends…the idea felt almost alien to him, when did he last make friends rather than have interactions? How did he not notice before that he was so damn lonely?
Painter pushed away from the worktop and paced quietly towards Brio’s room, he felt the need to check on the man. I’m just doing a good job, he thought to himself, just being thorough and delivering appropriate aftercare.
Painter watched Brio from the bedroom door. He didn’t know how long he stood there watching Brio breathe steadily in his sleep, sprawled across the sheets, dark head pressed into the pillow and his hands tucked under his chin.
Brio snuffled in his sleep, his eyes blinked open sleepily and he smiled at Painter, “Go back to sleep baby,” Painter said quietly from the doorway and Brio, obedient, passive, not awake, closed his eyes again and snuggled back into his pillow.
Painter felt unfamiliar contentment warm him - when he tied Brio, when he touched Brio, when he gave him pleasure and then when he spanked Brio and put him to bed, it didn’t just feel like a job well done, it felt like more than that.
Reluctantly Painter turned away from the bedroom, he collected his duffle bag and let himself quietly out of the house and climbed into his car. He reminded himself that this was work, weird work but work none the less and because of it he had a nice apartment, a nice car, his clothes were nice, and he didn’t have to take a proper job, it was all good. He wondered why, if it was all good, did leaving Brio alone in his bed feel so bad?
◆◆◆
“Nice digs,” Tay said when Painter joined him in front of his apartment building
“Been a Venditor a long time,” Painter shrugged and looked up at the building, “This is the most time I have spent in it since I bought it, normally I’m off doing contracts,”
“You only ever did short term?”
“Yeah, it felt safer,” Painter found he could admit things to Tay that he had been unable to voice before, maybe it was because Tay was so easy about being a professional Dom, he made it seem okay, layered around with rules and safety protocols.
“Me too,” Tay admitted, “I only do short term or training. You okay with walking to the club, it’s not that far?”
“No problems,” The night air was cool and brisk, it always was here, the city was so high, and Painter wore a leather jacket over his button-down shirt. The jacket was his only concession to where they were going tonight. Tay was wearing leather trousers, skin tight to his impressive thighs, and spit-shined black knee boots, but the look was vanilla enough for a walk through the downtown streets.
They started down the street, an easy camaraderie between them.
“What’s the plan for tonight?” Painter asked eventually.
“Well, I think it’s important that you see a corporal punishment scene and that’s not something I am comfortable delivering within a training environment as I don’t have a sub of my own at the moment,”
“Explain, please,” Painter had discovered that Tay was good with short, direct, questions, it seemed to trigger an automatic flood of information from him and Painter would just soak it up.
“Rules are good in the kind of contracts we do and by extension D/S relationships in general. Rules make subs feel safe within the boundaries and Doms like building them around their subs. However, a punishment scene for rule-breaking has a very different vibe to a pain play scene.
“Right now you give Brio daily spankings and those are like a bridge between pain play and punishment scenes.”
“So my spanking Brio every day is a rule?”
“Yeah, it’s been created by the contract, by negotiation, you know about it, he knows about it, it serves a purpose and it is delivered calmly and without prejudice. Everybody knows where they stand. You will add more rules as you progress in your contract and those will come with rewards for compliance and punishments for disobedience,”
Painter nodded, he could feel the shape of that in his head, how it would work, a weaving of give and take between him and Brio.
“You’ve seen me do impact play for fun,” Tay said, “You’ve seen me use a light flogger for sensation play and you’ve seen my work with subs that like the pain. We’ve covered all of that, but tonight’s dynamic is different, it’s punishment, a firm response to rule-breaking.”
“What does the sub get out of it?”
Tay glanced at Painter, “Interesting that you didn’t feel the need to ask what the dom gets out of it!”
Painter shrugged, “I’m kinda getting used to the idea that I would get something very significant out of a situation like that,”
Tay paused and Painter stopped too, turning to face his instructor, “The sub gets their transgression wiped away, they get their guilt removed and the rules around them reinforced, it makes them feel safe.
“They also get to suffer for their Dom because people like us, we like it and our subs know that. What stops us from being monsters is we don’t do it randomly, we do it with care and attention and within the context of an established and agreed dynamic,” Tay’s gaze was serious, “You must understand this Paint, this thing we are and this thing we do, it’s called a power exchange for a reason, it’s a free choice, and fair exchange is no robbery. You get that, right,”
Painter nodded but he knew he didn’t quite get it, not the way Tay wanted him to. Tay knew it too and his expression was rueful, “Look, we’re going to go watch a scene, a friend of mine is punishing his sub tonight with a caning. His sub broke the rules they had agreed on. This punishment is going to be semi-public, a few people in one of the private rooms because that is what they agreed on. We’re witnessing it, and we need to understand how much trust the sub is putting in his dom to agree to that, it’s a highly emotional thing, top of the intense tree.”
Painter nodded dumbly, his shoulders hunched, his hand deep in his pockets.
“And then afterward we’re going to talk about it, and you get to tell me how
you feel,” he grinned, “I think I might be turning into Cashel, I’ve been spending way too much time with the guy,”
◆◆◆
The club was exactly as Painter had imagined it would be, from the low lights and the cheesy décor to the crowd of semi-dressed denizens and the smell of sexual potential and hot bodies in the air.
Tay signed him in and gave him a quick guided tour – cloakroom, bar area with mingling space and small stage area for demonstrations, public play areas, and a corridor of private rooms for scenes and aftercare.
After getting a couple of beers from the bar Tay guided Painter to a booth at the back of the mingling area. As they moved through the crowd Painter noted that Tay was well known, a few leather-clad men nodding at him and a disconcerting number of subs, obvious by their attire, giving him the side-eye as he passed.
There was music playing but it wasn’t loud enough that Painter couldn’t hear Tay when they settled into the booth.
“You come here often?” Painter asked.
“Not as much as I used to,” Tay said taking a long swallow of his beer, “I used to play here back in the day but I’m not playing outside of contract at the moment,” Painter sensed a story here but didn’t push Tay to explain.
“Okay,” Tay switched into trainer mode, “What you need to remember about caning is the cane itself decides the stroke. When you choose a cane you need to think about the results you want and you need to practice, you don’t just pick one up and start whaling on somebody.”
Tay went on to give the pro’s and con’s of various canes and where on the body they were used and how to use them efficiently and safely. Painter made mental notes but all the time he could feel his excitement level rising. Over on the stage, a sweet looking blonde was using a deerskin flogger on her older male sub and the sound of the tails on the skin was waking Painter’s dom up. He could see the flinch and tense in the sub’s shoulders as he held his position, hands on his head and feet shoulder-width apart. The dom circled him, her step light as though she was dancing, and the flicker of the flogger, the sing of it, and the kiss of it on reddening flesh mesmerized him. When she started to flog her subs cock into an erection Painter had to put his hand against his groin and press down on his semi.