“Open your eyes and look at me.”
Aiden did.
“Did you touch yourself?” Scott whispered.
For a second, Aiden couldn’t remember how to
speak. “No, Sir.”
Scott reached around and pinched Aiden’s nipples.
Aiden arched his back.
“You had to think about it.”
Shit
. Why had he hesitated? “No, Sir. I mean—no, I
didn’t touch myself.”
Scott let go of Aiden’s tits, took his wrist in one
hand, and swatted his ass with the other. “Walk.”
They went to the kitchen. The tiles under Aiden’s
feet were even colder than the floorboards in the hall.
The room smelled faintly of whatever Scott had eaten for
dinner, and Aiden’s stomach growled again.
Scott directed him to a wall and pushed his head
forward until his lips touched a metal bar.
“Open up,” Scott said.
Aiden opened, and Scott pushed him forward
another inch so that the bar was in his mouth.
“Bite.”
Aiden did. The bar was cold and copper tasting.
Okay, we’re so not in Kansas anymore, Aiden thought.
Scott grabbed his hips and pulled so that Aiden’s
back sloped and his ass jutted out from the wall.
Scott placed a silk mask over Aiden’s eyes, then
cuffed his hands together behind his back. Now Aiden’s
position was extremely awkward—bent at the waist, ass
out, hands behind him, jaws around the bar.
Scott grabbed his nipples again, rolling and
squeezing them into stiff peaks. He put a clamp on the
right one, screwing it slowly tighter until Aiden’s breath
caught and he twisted involuntarily—then tighter still,
until every muscle in Aiden’s body tensed against the
pain.
Scott clamped his left tit with the same agonizing
slowness and flicked both clamps, sending shocks of
pain through Aiden’s body. Aiden was grateful to have
the bar to bite down on.
Scott attached something to the right clamp—a
chain, Aiden realized a moment later, when Scott let the
series of metal links fall from his fingers. The weight of
the chain jerked the clamp down, making Aiden gasp.
Scott picked up the loose end and attached it to the left
clamp, creating a slack arc that swung painfully if Aiden
moved at all.
Scott put his fingers in the U of chain and applied a
steady downward pressure. Aiden whimpered as his
nipples were stretched. He tried to move his torso
downward to alleviate the pressure, but he couldn’t
without releasing the bar. He moaned his frustration. The
pain stopped.
He heard Scott’s footsteps move away, then the
sound of the refrigerator opening. Plastic rustled. The
fridge closed. Aiden shifted his weight, nervous. He
heard a drawer open, and then the sound of Scott cutting
something on a board. Then a—vegetable peeler? It
sounded like Scott was peeling a potato. Again the knife
slammed the cutting board; then there was a familiar
smell in the air that Aiden couldn’t quite pinpoint.
Aiden recognized the smell from the restaurant. It
was something that went in the steak teriyaki. Scott
approached him, taking a position just behind and to the
left of Aiden. He placed a hand on Aiden’s hip. Aiden
jumped.
“Did you touch yourself?” Scott asked again. His
voice was deceptively casual.
Aiden couldn’t back down now. He’d already
insisted twice that he hadn’t. If he stuck to his story, there
was no way Scott could
prove
he’d broken the rule. He
shook his head as best he could with the bar in his
mouth.
“Let go of the bar,” Scott said, “and answer me. Did
you touch yourself, Shithead, between last Monday and
tonight? Did you take hold of your worthless little cock
and jerk yourself while you thought about me? Did you
come?”
Aiden let go of the bar. “No, Sir,” he said as firmly
as he could manage.
Scott removed his hand from Aiden’s hip. “Bite
down on the bar again.”
The smell of whatever Scott had cut was
overwhelming, and Aiden wished he could figure out
what it was. He didn’t have much time to wonder. Scott
spread his cheeks with one hand and, with the other,
forced something wet and cool into his entrance.
For a second, Aiden felt nothing. Whatever the
object was, it was small, and aside from its odd, moist
texture, there was nothing uncomfortable about it. Then
slowly a fire began in his asshole, spreading through his
body, making him jerk and writhe. He pulled against the
handcuffs and ground his teeth against the steel bar. The
burning sensation grew so intense that he felt nauseated.
He stamped, arched, twisted—anything to lessen the
burn. Scott held the object in place, then began moving it
in and out slightly.
Tears sprang to Aiden’s eyes. Every time he moved
to try to get away from the fire in his asshole, the chain
between his nipples swung, pulling his swollen tits.
“Gingerroot,” Scott said conversationally. “Burns,
doesn’t it?”
Aiden shifted from one foot to the other as Scott
continued to fuck him with the piece of root. He didn’t
recognize the noises he was making; they were animal
sounds, beyond his control.
“This is called figging,” Scott explained. “It’s a
technique they used to use on show horses, to keep their
tails raised and make them lift their legs higher.”
Aiden clenched his ass around the gingerroot,
which only made the sensation stronger. He tried not to
throw up. Scott slipped the root out, but the burn
remained.
“Did you touch yourself?” Scott asked again.
Aiden bit down on the bar until the burn was
manageable. Then he raised his head and answered, “No
Sir.”
“You’re a stubborn little boy, aren’t you?” Scott
said. “You like to do things the hard way.”
Aiden bit back a sob and shifted onto the balls of
his feet.
“Well, we’ve got all night. And if that’s how long it
takes for me to get the truth out of you, so be it.”
He swatted Aiden’s dancing ass so hard that Aiden
momentarily forgot about the burn.
“Hold still.”
Scott slid the piece of root into Aiden’s ass and left
it there, then went back to the cutting board and sliced a
fresh piece. Aiden almost released the bar so he could
beg for mercy, but the sting was starting to lessen, as
though his body was so full of pain he couldn’t process
anymore. Maybe if he acted as though it was still terrible,
Scott wouldn’t do anything worse, and Aiden would win
this battle. He let out an experimental whimper.
Scott stood directly beside him this time, not
behind him. He stroked Aiden’s cheek. “Poor boy.
You’re going to be so sore when I fuck you later.” He
brushed away the tears that had escaped from under
Aiden’s blindfold. “You see, I don’t believe for a second
that you didn’t touch your cock.” He took Aiden’s cock—
soft and curled from the pain—in his hand. Immediately
it twitched to life. Traitor! Aiden thought, squeezing his
eyes shut. “I think you touched yourself. I think you
came. I think you’re lying to me.” Scott brushed his
thumb over Aiden’s slit, and Aiden gasped. “I don’t
think you can keep your hands off your cock—but you’re
going to learn to. Maybe your little penis is the best way
to get a message to your brain. You
don’t. Lie. To me
.”
Scott took the fresh piece of gingerroot and pressed
it to the head of Aiden’s cock, grinding it against the slit.
Aiden’s hips jerked involuntarily as the acid sting
flooded him. His tears came hot and fast, and he bit the
bar so hard he thought his teeth would break. Scott
rubbed the root back and forth mercilessly, abrading the
tender skin and letting the burning juice seep into the
raw spots. Aiden’s attempt to escape reawakened the
pain in his ass and made the chain pull at his tits. He let
go of the bar, straightened up, and the words poured out
of him without thought or logic: “Please, Sir, please stop.
Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, please, please don’t… ”
He staggered backward and tripped over a chair.
He started to fall, unable to use his hands to catch
himself.
Strong arms grabbed him, set him upright. He
stood in the middle of the floor, blind, cowering, ass
burning, crying. Scott didn’t touch him, didn’t speak for a
while, just let Aiden stand there, exposed and
humiliated.
“What are you sorry for?” Scott asked quietly.
“I-I lied. I did touch myself.”
“I see.”
Aiden couldn’t bear the silence. “Only once. Last
week. Only once and then never again after that.” He
couldn’t stop his tears. He was disappointed in himself
for lacking the self-control to keep his hands off himself,
for lying to his master, and now for breaking down.
“Did I say ‘touch yourself only once, and then never
again’?” Scott asked.
Aiden shook his head. He wished he could wipe
his nose. Instead he had to let it drip onto his lips, his
chest. “No, Sir.”
Scott moved in close to him, cupped a hand around
the back of Aiden’s head, and said in his ear, “I said
don’t touch yourself, Shithead. Period. One simple rule
for you to follow in my absence.”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Aiden repeated miserably. The
ginger still burned dully in his ass, reminding him what
a disgrace he was as a sub.
Scott yanked the blindfold off. Aiden caught a
glimpse of dark eyes and a hard, angry mouth. Aiden
dropped his gaze to the floor, wishing he could
disappear. He hadn’t even begun his training yet, and
he’d already screwed up.
Scott removed the nipple clamps and the wrist
cuffs. “Bend over.”
Aiden did.
Scott plucked the gingerroot out of his ass and gave
Aiden a swat. “Go clean yourself up. Kneel in the
bedroom when you’re done and wait for me.”
Aiden fled the room, glad for the chance to pull
himself together. He got into the shower and washed
himself thoroughly, making sure to shave the stubble on
his groin. He tried to rinse the last of the burn from his
asshole. When he got out of the shower, he felt a little
better. He’d fucked up, but he would do better the rest of
the night.
He looked in the mirror. His tits were bluish red
and puffy, but he liked the reminder of who he belonged
to. His eyes were less swollen now. He breathed in and
watched his ribs appear as his stomach contracted. He no
longer felt hungry.
For some reason, Aiden thought about Keaton
Hughes, the man with the notebook at Obey. He
wondered what kind of top Keaton was. If Keaton would
enjoy the sight of Aiden, bruised and humiliated, eager
and compliant. Aiden folded his towel, placed it on the
toilet tank, and left the bathroom.
The bedroom was warm. He knelt in the center of
the room, legs spread. Scott entered a moment later.
“Stand up,” Scott said.
Aiden did, keeping his gaze on the floor. Scott
approached with the nipple clamps, and Aiden closed
his eyes as the clamps bit into his already sore flesh. He
winced as Scott tightened the second clamp, then
immediately chastised himself.
You deserve this.
Scott unclipped the chain on one side, pulled it taut
across Aiden’s chest, and refastened it. Aiden’s nipples
were now drawn toward each other. A whimper of agony
caught in his throat as he tried to move and felt the
tension in the chain. Scott grabbed his jaw.
“You still think this is a game,” Scott said. “When I
give you rules, you follow them. Whether or not I am
present to enforce them.” He plucked the chain between
Aiden’s tits as if it was a guitar string.
Aiden yelped and doubled over.
“Is that clear?”
Aiden forced himself to straighten up. “Y-yes, Sir.”
“Get on the bed. On your back.”
Aiden obeyed.
Scott undressed and knelt between Aiden’s legs.
“I’m going to fuck your tits,” Scott explained. “Then later
I’ll fuck your ass and your mouth. And you’re going to
take it all, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Scott took hold of Aiden’s ankles and pulled him
farther down the bed. Aiden winced as the movement
made the chain vibrate. Scott held himself over Aiden