Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) (40 page)

Gelan sighed.  “No, we won’t.  However, there’s been no way of convincing you of that so far.”

Wynhod said, “So let’s deal with the here and now.”

A hand cupped Krijero’s crotch, finding his swollen cocks and rubbing to make the Imdiko rise on his toes as carnal heat filled his gut.  Another hand plucked at his nipples, sending brighter pulses of excitement down.  His thoughts were breaking apart, getting lost in a haze of need.

Gelan asked, “Should we walk out right now and leave without you?”

Even as his groin lit in ferocious arousal, Krijero’s heart filled with pain at the Dramok’s words.  His voice came out in a sob.  “No.  I don’t want that.”

Wynhod said, “But you’ve messed up tonight, haven’t you?  First running away from us, and then coming in here.  You’ve caused offense, Krijero.”

“Yes.”

“You need to be punished, don’t you?”

They were going to turn away.  Disappear.  Krijero couldn’t bear the thought.  “Don’t leave me alone tonight,” he begged.

Gelan’s gaze was kind even as he warned, “You’ll have to give yourself up to discipline then, Imdiko.  I think you need a harsher lesson than the ones we’ve given you in the past.”

Krijero felt a wash of terror at those words.  But if he was forced to go home by himself tonight, left in that terrible isolation, that awful emptiness, he might never recover.  Not this time.

He’d wanted to end things before it became too late to save himself from destruction.  Now he knew that time had already come and gone.  He was lost.  Whatever Gelan and Wynhod had in store for him, it couldn’t be worse than being alone again.

Krijero bowed his head.    “All right.  I’ll accept whatever you wish.”

Gelan gripped his chin and pushed his hair back, making Krijero look him in the eye.  “We have your complete consent, Imdiko?  Any punishment we deem proper?” 

A tear slid down one of Krijero’s cheeks.  He didn’t care.  “Just don’t leave me.”

Wynhod wiped the tear away and kissed where it had been.  “That will never happen.  But you will pay dearly for your actions tonight.”

Krijero nodded.  He knew he would be made miserable in the immediate future, but all that mattered was he wasn’t going to be alone yet. 

Gelan took one arm and Wynhod the other.  Krijero was so relieved that he didn’t immediately notice they weren’t taking him back out into the club’s main viewing room.  Instead, they led him down the hall.

They came upon the Imdiko attendant around the corner.  Gelan asked, “Is there a bondage and punishment room available?”

The Imdiko looked at him and Wynhod warily.  “Yes, Dramok.  The one with the torture plank and restraints has just been cleaned.”

“That would be fine.”

“Right this way.”

It finally registered to Krijero what was going on.  His lovers were not taking him out of the pleasure club; they were going to use one of the rooms.

As he gaped in surprise, the service Imdiko led them into another hall and stopped before a closed door.  Gelan pulled out his handheld and touched it to one the Imdiko offered.  A beep sounded to confirm payment.

They were going to punish him in front of an audience.  As the attendant punched in the door’s code to let them into the playroom, he shot Krijero a sympathetic and worried look.

Before letting them in, the youngling asked Krijero, “Imdiko, is this in accordance with your consent?”

Krijero’s stomach clenched.  He didn’t want to be disciplined for such a serious infraction in front of a crowd, but if he refused Gelan and Wynhod might walk out on him.  He knew he couldn’t handle that.  Just the thought of it was worse than the reality of when Pertak left him.

Sagging in their grips, Krijero mumbled, “I give my full consent.”

The other Imdiko nodded.  “In that case, enjoy yourselves.”  His tone said he thought Krijero’s chances of that were extremely dubious.  Krijero was inclined to agree.

The door opened and Gelan and Wynhod pulled him into the brightly-lit playroom.

* * * *

Krijero looked at the room with a sick feeling.  It was one of the few he’d never been in.  It had been filled with hardcore equipment and looked more like a torture chamber than a place to play.

After all, the bench in the room was labeled a torture plank.  It appeared every bit like its name, what with the chains, bindings, and cockring attached to it.  The harness hanging from the ceiling overhead, a complicated contraption of black leather and metal, was no less terrifying.  The light in here seemed overbearingly bright, showing the Imdiko way too much detail of the punishment and restraint devices hanging on the walls.  He knew the excess illumination, along with the seemingly unbearable heat in the room, was more a result of his growing terror rather than the actual level of light and temperature.  That knowledge didn’t make him feel any better.

Gelan asked in a quiet tone, “Are you still willing to make this right between us, Krijero?” 

The Imdiko saw that both his companions were watching him carefully.  If he balked, they wouldn’t go through with the punishment.  But they might leave, and he was no longer strong enough to let that happen.

He stared down at his scuffed traction shoes, not wanting to look at the torture plank or harness.  “I surrender to your discipline,” he whispered. 

“Strip.”

Trying to control his trembling, Krijero undressed.  His lovers hovered close, steadying him when his balance was threatened as he lifted his legs in turn to remove shoes and pants.  They took his clothing from him and folded it to lie neatly on nearby shelves.

When he stood naked, shuddering despite the seeming heat of the room, Wynhod ordered, “Straddle the plank.”

Krijero walked over to the wooden horror.  Stepped over it with one long leg.  Sat down.  The pitted wood ground hard against his ass.  This piece had not been made for comfort.  He looked at the rings and chains and other things that were embedded in the horizontal surface and swallowed.  Unable to look at it anymore, he lifted his face to discover the big window only a few feet in front of him.  A sea of faces swam out of the dark viewing room.  Several, maybe dozens of men out there gathered to watch him receive punishment.  Krijero hunched and lowered his face again, letting more hair fall forward to hide his burning face.

Gelan’s deep voice sounded over his head.  “Harness.”

A soft whirring noise let Krijero know the harness was on its way down.  Through his hair, he saw the tangle of straps and metal descend before him.  He squeezed his eyes shut.

Hands worked the leather around him, attaching him to the harness.  The straps were thick and stiff, also not meant for comfort.  One crossed over his chest and tightened beneath his armpits.  Fingers ran between the leather and Krijero’s skin. 

“Is it interfering at all with your breathing?” Wynhod asked.

Krijero couldn’t find his voice.  He managed to shake his head.

Another strap wound around his elbows and wrists, pinning them behind his back.  Tension was applied to lift his arms away from his body.  A warm hand rubbed over his shoulders.  “Any pain here?” Gelan asked.  “Too much strain?”

Krijero shook his head again.  The straps were rough, almost abrasive against his skin, but they weren’t threatening to cause him any injury.

Another strap just below his chest, cinched as carefully as the rest.  There was a pause.

“Lean forward until the harness holds your weight.”

Krijero did as he was told.  He cracked his eyes open to see the bench lay barely a foot below his face.  The straps had tightened against his chest, but they were well placed, not interfering with his breathing at all.  He panted anyway.  With only his legs free, he was damned near helpless.

Even that small kindness disappeared when the men bound his ankles wide apart at the foot of the bench.  The Imdiko couldn’t help but test the strength of the tethers on his arms and legs.  He found he was utterly immobilized, incapable of escape.  From the lowest point of his groin up, he floated in the air, held up by the harness.

A pair of thighs appeared in front of him, straddling the bench.  Fingers ran from Krijero’s forehead through his hair, grabbing a handful to expose his face and force his head back.  He looked up into Gelan’s face hovering far above him.

The Dramok looked neither pleased nor angry, merely intent.  He held a contraption in his hand that Krijero had seen used only a couple of times:  a head cage.  The Imdiko’s heart slammed into overdrive as he looked at the leather and metal piece.

Gelan slipped it over his head so that the curved and padded rests sat on Krijero’s collar bones.  The cage extended up around his jaw with a couple of padded metal rectangles reaching up to bracket his cheeks.  Gelan adjusted the chin rest and the angle of the cage so that Krijero’s head remained reared slightly back and attached it to the harness to keep him angled that way.  It was just enough to put only a small strain on his neck and shoulder muscles, but not even close to injury.

Though uncomfortable, the head cage wasn’t meant to cause pain.  It rendered the wearer’s head and neck completely immobile.  Krijero could no longer duck his head.  When Gelan tied his hair back to leave his face exposed, the Imdiko whimpered.  Gelan stroked his cheek, but didn’t relent.

Krijero squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the humiliation to be seen by everyone in the club.  A calloused finger tapped the end of his nose in warning.

“Eyes open, Imdiko.  No hiding from your shame tonight.”

Krijero didn’t even think about challenging Gelan’s commanding tone.  His eyes popped open in time to see Gelan sit down on the plank in front of him.

The Dramok watched his face as he reached beneath Krijero’s suspended body.  There was the rolling sound of chains against wood as he picked something up and held it in front of Krijero’s face:  the nipple clamps attached by hard, shining links to the plank.

The Imdiko trembled as Wynhod’s fingers plucked at his nipples.  He knew just the pressure to apply, just how to caress them in such a way to send pleasure zinging straight down to Krijero’s cocks.  Heat surged despite his fears of what was going to be done to him.  His nipples stiffened and swelled.

Wynhod kept at him until Gelan could easily attach the clamps.  Then the men tightened the pressure around the peaks until Krijero sucked in a loud, pained breath.  Slivers of heated ache tormented him, slowly easing with the passing seconds, but not by much.

Gelan watched his expression and nodded with approval.  “Raise harness two feet.”

Krijero slowly rose in the air until he hovered over the plank.  Only his ankles, tethered to metal clamps in the wood, remained in contact with it.  Gelan adjusted the tension on the nipple clamps so that he felt a constant pull,  Fresh pain rolled in, and Krijero moaned.

“Keep your eyes open, Imdiko,” Gelan ordered.  He rose from his seat on the plank and stepped away. 

With the Dramok’s big body no longer blocking the window, Krijero found himself looking into all those avid faces on the other side, excitedly watching the show.  His face heated in searing shame.  The humiliation and exposure were far worse than the pain he felt or any he could imagine Gelan and Wynhod might put him through.  He felt a desperate need to drop his head and shake his hair over his face, but he couldn’t.  He wanted to close his eyes to block all those stares out, but that would mean disobeying Gelan.  He couldn’t do that either.

As Krijero fought the overwhelming discomfort, squirming as much as his bonds would allow, hands gripped his cocks and stroked them hard.  Krijero knew Wynhod’s demanding touch as well as his own.  So did his body, and it automatically reacted to the Nobek’s strong hold.  The fear of what the two men would do to him and the shame of his punishment being put on display had wilted Krijero’s cocks to the point where he’d been sure he’d never get hard again.  He’d thought wrong.

Feeling that powerful clasp on his pricks, a touch he delighted in, brought Krijero to abrupt and complete arousal.  He groaned as bright, roiling warmth filled his groin, spilling eagerly into his cocks.  His body fought to move into that delicious grasp, but he the tethers held him mercilessly still.  He could only whimper a plea for more.

Gelan appeared once more before his heavy-lidded gaze.  He showed Krijero a longer than typical anal plug, one much like the one they used on him at home.  This one, however, had a tube extension beyond its base.  Gelan twisted it.

“Vibration on, low power.”

A low hum sang through the air.  Krijero groaned.  Not only would this plug stimulate his cum spot, it would quiver against it, driving him insane.

While he watched, Gelan squirted lube on the pulsing device and made it slick and ready for Krijero’s back passage.  The Imdiko would have looked forward to it had he thought for an instant he’d be allowed to come.  He knew better, however.  The torment he would endure would be one for the books.

With a calculating smile, Gelan walked out of Krijero’s sight, heading towards his open and defenseless ass.

As Wynhod continued to stroke Krijero’s avid dicks, the throbbing plug slid into the Imdiko’s ass.  Just as he’d known it would, it made contact with his prostate.  Krijero yelped as shivery, molten pleasure filled his senses.  He went as violently erect as he had ever been.  His primary cock spat a small amount of cum.