stood in the doorway, facing the bedroom.
Aiden heard Scott open a cabinet in the bathroom
behind him, and a minute later a thick collar was placed
around his neck and fastened snugly. It was so wide
Aiden could barely move his head. Two ropes with steel
clips hung from either side of the doorway, and Scott
snapped the ropes to rings on either side of the collar so
that Aiden was cross-tied like a horse. Maybe “tack you
up” hadn’t been a metaphor.
Scott went back to the cabinet and then reached
around Aiden with what looked like a long, narrow cage
with a ring at the base. Aiden knew it was a chastity
device for his cock, and the idea of being blue balled
with a full bladder sent a wave of desperation through
him.
He gasped as Scott gripped the base of his cock and
began working him. “Oh yeah,” Aiden breathed, riding
Scott’s hand. “You’re making me so hot. Please let me
come for you, Sir… ” He doubled over in shock and
agony as Scott slapped his upright dick with an open
palm. Only the cross-ties kept him from dropping to his
knees. “Ow!” he shouted. “Fuck… ”
Scott smacked his ass once, twice, three times, so
hard that Aiden’s eyes watered. “Nice try, slut. Behave,
or I’ll land you another one on that twitchy dick of
yours.” He fitted the cock cage over Aiden’s dick and
secured it.
Scott pressed on the area just above Aiden’s groin.
Aiden winced and drew back, his body bumping against
Scott’s. Scott pushed harder.
“Need to piss?” Scott asked in Aiden’s ear.
“Yes, Sir,” Aiden whispered.
Scott backed away, and Aiden heard him take
something out of a box. Aiden battled the urge to ask
Scott what he was doing. Scott ordered him to bend
forward and stick his ass out. Aiden did, heart thudding.
A second later, something cold nudged his entrance.
“What is it?” Aiden asked before he could stop
himself.
Scott reached around and held the object in front of
Aiden. It was a well-lubed butt plug. Medium-sized—
not too intimidating, except for the device attached to the
plug’s base. It looked like four burrs strung together on a
flexible wire—four small, bristly spheres. The burr chain
arced out from the plug’s base, then bent back in so that
it ran parallel to the plug. Scott let Aiden study it for a
few seconds; then his hand disappeared, and Aiden felt
the tip of the plug seeking his entrance once more.
Scott spread Aiden’s cheeks wide and teased his
opening with the plug’s narrow end, fucking him with
the tip until Aiden finally let out the breath he’d been
holding and relaxed enough that Scott could slide the
plug inside him. It was always strange to adjust to a
plug, and Aiden shifted, trying to get comfortable. Then
Scott spread his cheeks once more and positioned the
flexible burr chain along his crack and against the soft
skin between his asshole and balls.
When Aiden moved, the burr chain scraped and
pricked his crack and taint. He danced for a moment in
the cross-ties, trying to contain the sensation. The burrs
ended right at the back of his balls, and the pain each
time his balls nudged the bristles was maddening. To
make matters worse, Scott slipped a black mask over his
eyes. With his sight gone, it was impossible not to
concentrate on the itchy pain between his legs.
Scott ducked under one of the cross ties and stood
in front of Aiden. Aiden could smell the beer on Scott’s
breath. Scott didn’t say anything, just stroked Aiden’s
cheek for a moment, and Aiden was suddenly as
frightened and frustrated as he could ever remember
being. He had to piss, his dick was caged, the skin
between his legs was being cruelly pricked and stung by
the burr chain, the collar was too tight, and he couldn’t
see. And here was Scott, obviously loving his pain,
reveling in his helplessness.
His tears flowed from under the blindfold and
Aiden tried to move a hand to his face to stop them
before Scott saw, but Scott caught his wrist and placed
Aiden’s arm back at his side. Scott cupped the back of
Aiden’s head, drawing him forward as much as the ties
would allow, until Aiden’s face was pressed against the
big man’s chest.
“I know,” Scott murmured. “It’s new. It hurts. But
it’s exciting too. Isn’t it?”
Aiden, all his pride gone, sniffed hard and nodded.
Scott’s heartbeat was slow and soothing, and Aiden liked
the feeling of Scott’s hand in his hair, not pulling, just
resting. He calmed suddenly. He could do this. He could
do this for Scott.
Scott pulled away and unclipped the cross ties,
then led him—by the hand this time—into the bedroom.
“Kneel,” Scott ordered, and Aiden did, wincing at the
horrible prickling between his legs.
He heard the creak of springs as Scott sat on the
bed, the quick purr of a zipper undone. Scott’s fingers
wound in his hair once more, pulling his head forward
until Aiden’s searching mouth found Scott’s hard,
bobbing cock.
“Suck me.”
Scott’s dick was thick and deliciously curved.
Aiden put his lips around it and licked up the shaft,
flicking his tongue against the head. He lapped at the
long, swollen vein on the organ’s underside and swirled
his tongue around and around his prize. He drew back
and kissed the slit, then began pounding the small,
sensitive opening with the tip of his tongue.
Scott’s fingers caught in his hair so fiercely and
suddenly that Aiden moaned. Scott began to fuck
Aiden’s mouth, grunting and slamming, making Aiden
gag. He kneed Aiden in the jaw as he thrust, and he
released Aiden’s hair only long enough to cuff the back
of his head and order Aiden to take more of him. Aiden
took the battering, determined not to lose focus. He
sucked and swallowed around Scott’s cock, taking Scott
deeper, deeper…
He was so lost in his performance that the sting of
the quirt came as a surprise. The double leather thongs
snapped against his naked ass, making him jump. Pain
from the burr chain between his legs shot through him at
the movement. Aiden swallowed a cry.
“The way you’re going, Shithead, I won’t come
until Christmas,” Scott said.
Aiden sucked harder. The quirt stung his ass, his
thighs, his hips and back until Aiden wanted to sob with
frustration. He was hard and humiliated, frantic and
tired. There was no pleasing Scott, who cursed him,
called him names, and whipped him.
Finally Aiden deserted technique, forgot finesse,
and attacked Scott’s cock as though it were the last
source of nourishment on earth. He kissed, sucked,
slurped, and used his hand to roll the heavy balls and
stroke the soft skin behind them. He felt sloppy,
unskilled, and overeager, but finally Scott tossed the
quirt aside, grabbed Aiden’s hair in both hands, and
shouted, “Yeah. Oh,
yeah
.”
Scott jerked and shot his cum down Aiden’s throat.
Aiden didn’t stop teasing the head of Scott’s cock with
his tongue, and Scott didn’t stop his long, slow thrusts
down Aiden’s throat until long after he was emptied.
Scott pulled out. He yanked off Aiden’s blindfold
and raked his fingers through Aiden’s hair, forcing Aiden
to look up at him. He spit, the saliva landing just below
Aiden’s right eye. Aiden flinched but made no move to
wipe his face. Scott watched him. His expression was
disdainful, but there was something else there.
Admiration? Pride? “Into the bed, Shithead,” he said
finally.
Aiden obeyed.
Aiden woke very early the next morning, not sure
where he was. He tried to move, but his wrists were
bound behind him. He was lying on a pile of towels on
an unfamiliar floor, facing a wall. His ass was sore inside
and out, his arms ached, and his throat felt bruised.
He was on Scott Runge’s floor.
Scott Runge had taken him home, stripped him,
beaten him, fucked his throat and ass. Scott Runge had
pinched his tits, kneaded his swollen bladder, tied his
wrists behind him, and left him here to sleep on the floor.
He’d made Aiden beg for the privilege of being used.
He’d called Aiden Shithead, spit on him, and demanded
to know if Aiden was capable of doing anything right.
Scott Runge had also kissed Aiden and stroked his
sweaty hair back from his face. He’d led Aiden to the
bathroom and rubbed circles on Aiden’s stomach as
Aiden experienced the unparalleled relief of pissing after
holding it for so long. Scott had removed the horrible
butt plug and applied salve to the skin that had been
scratched raw by the burr chain. He’d rubbed the welts
his belt had left on Aiden’s ass and told Aiden that his
pain threshold was impressive.
Aiden’s cock grew at the memory, and he would
have given anything to be able to touch himself. He
stared at the wall, listening. Where was Scott? Was he
going to play with Aiden some more before letting him
go? Aiden wanted to go home, wanted to shower and eat
and crawl into bed and jack off to memories of Scott until
it was time for him to go to work. He tried to roll over,
but it was difficult with his arms bound behind him.
Scott entered the bedroom. Aiden held his breath as
the man crouched beside him and undid the restraints
around his wrists and ankles. Aiden slowly flexed his
arms. He wondered if he should get up or lie here and
await Scott’s instructions. Scott took Aiden’s wrists and
rubbed them, bringing some circulation back. Then he
rolled Aiden over, pulled him onto his knees, and kissed
him. Aiden kissed back hungrily. “Stand up,” Scott
whispered.
Aiden stood. Scott circled him. He fingered the
bruises on Aiden’s ass, murmuring, “Very nice.” He
rolled one of Aiden’s swollen nipples between his thumb
and forefinger, smiling as Aiden’s breath caught. He put
a hand around Aiden’s throat and applied the slightest
pressure. Aiden’s heart sped up. Then he moved his
hand down and stroked Aiden’s chest, his stomach, and
brushed over Aiden’s stiffening cock. Aiden whimpered.
“Get dressed.” Scott motioned to a small wooden
chair in the corner, where Aiden’s clothes were folded.
Aiden remembered bending over that same chair last
night, being told to keep his palms flat on the seat while
Scott strapped him with a thick leather belt.
Aiden dressed quickly.
“Sit,” Scott ordered.
Aiden sat on the wooden chair, his aching ass
protesting.
Scott took Aiden’s chin in his hand and stroked
Aiden’s jaw with his thumb. “You could be a decent sub
with some training,” Scott said.
Aiden felt the flash of anger again. He
was
a good
sub. Any top would attest to that. It was Aiden who
could afford to be discerning, Aiden who was sought
after, Aiden who reserved the right to judge a top’s
prowess. Something of his outrage must have shown in
his eyes, because a faint smile appeared on Scott’s lips.
“Do you agree?” Scott asked.
Aiden dropped his gaze. “Yes, Sir.”
“Look at me.”
Aiden did.
“Would you consider entering my service?”
“Wh-what do you mean, Sir?”
“I mean… ” Scott leaned forward so that his
whisper blasted heat into Aiden’s ear. “Are you willing
to be trained? Will you come here multiple times per
week to be fucked, whipped, and tortured? Will you
serve me and only me, until you’re the best sub I can
make you?” Scott grabbed Aiden’s hair, not pulling but
holding it firmly. “Will you admit I own your body, and
that your only desire, when you’re in my presence, is to
please me? And do you understand that when you fail to
do so, I will punish you severely?” Scott sank his teeth
into the side of Aiden’s neck and bit down until Aiden
whimpered. “Do you want to learn what it means to
submit, Shithead, or do you want to stay what you are—