I examined the straps more closely. They were lined with soft material, the buckles engineered for quick release if necessary. Everythingabout the construction spoke of careful attention to both aesthetics and function.
“The height is designed to accommodate various postures,” Renato continued, “making it easy for both partners to explore each other fully.” His eyes met mine again, a knowing look in their depths. “It emphasizes the intimacy of shared discovery. Tthe partner is both supported and free to indulge in pleasure, amplifying the connection.”
The image that formed in my mind was immediate and intense, Theo sprawled across this bench, his defenses stripped away, not just physically exposed but emotionally bare. In my world of diplomatic facades and carefully maintained appearances, the thought of such raw authenticity was intoxicating.
But beneath the desire lurked something more troubling, a recognition that what I was seeking from Theo went beyond physical pleasure. In the quiet moments after our encounters, I found myself wanting to know his thoughts, his dreams, the path that had led him to The Ranch. These were dangerous waters for a man in my position.
“It's available for private use, of course,” Renato added, apparently reading my interest correctly. “For guests with the appropriate... experience.”
“I have some experience,” I said, meeting his assessing gaze directly. “Though I'm always eager to learn more.”
My mind flashed to Theo, and his vulnerability during our encounters, the trust he'd placed in me despite our brief acquaintance. The Tantric Bench would take things further, requiring even greater surrender from him. Was I worthy of such trust? The power dynamics between us were already complex. I was not just his dominant in the bedroom but his social superior, his employer for all practical purposes.
In Avaline, power came with explicit responsibilities. “Noblesse oblige,” my father would intone. “Privilege carries the burden of care.” Did those principles extend to this context? Was I considering Theo's wellbeing and boundaries with the same attention I would give to a diplomatic negotiation?
“You're thoughtful,” Renato observed. “That's good. True dominance requires reflection.”
“The responsibility weighs on me,” I admitted. “Ensuring that my companion's experience is... fulfilling.”
Renato nodded, recognition of a kindred spirit in his expression. “I thought as much. There's a certain quality one recognizes in those who understand the deeper aspects of dominance and submission, an awareness that power is not simply taken but exchanged.” His eyes held mine, evaluating. “The best dominants understand that their authority is ultimately granted by the submissive's trust, not seized through status or wealth.”
His subtle reminder struck home. Whatever dynamics existed between Theo and me outside the bedroom, in this realm, my authority came from his willing surrender, not my title or bank account.
“If you're interested in using the Tantric Bench tomorrow, I could arrange for it to be delivered to your villa, along with guidance on how to introduce your companion to it properly.”
The offer was tempting. More than tempting. The thought of having Theo bound to that bench, completely at my mercy, was enough to make my mouth go dry with anticipation. But it wasn't just about physical control; it was about creating a space where he might discover parts of himself he kept hidden, just as I longed to reveal aspects of myself I rarely showed to others. “I would like to try out the bench.”
Renato's expression warmed with approval. “Excellent. I'll have it delivered tomorrow morning, along with some additional items you might find useful.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Your Grace.” Renato inclined his head slightly. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I should return to the demonstration before my assistant gets carried away. He has a tendency toward the theatrical.”
I watched as Renato rejoined the main group, smoothly taking over from a younger man who had indeed seemed to be demonstrating with rather more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary.
“Making new friends?” Julius's voice came from behind me, laced with amusement.
I turned to find him watching me with that particular expression that suggested he'd observed more than I might have wished. “Something like that,” I replied neutrally.
Julius glanced at the Tantric Bench, then back at me, a knowing smile playing at his lips. “Planning ahead for tomorrow's entertainment?”
“Perhaps.” I straightened my jacket unnecessarily, uncomfortable with his ability to read my intentions so easily.
“Don't look so defensive, my boy,” Julius chuckled. “I'm hardly one to judge. In fact, I quite approve.” He nodded toward where Renato was now discussing the finer points of impact play with his rapt audience. “That one knows his craft. You could learn a great deal from him.”
“That's the plan,” I admitted.
Julius's expression softened, a rare genuine affection showing through his usual sardonic mask. “Good. It's about time you allowed yourself some real pleasure, not just the cursory satisfaction youusually settle for.” Before I could formulate a response to this unexpectedly personal observation, Julius patted my shoulder. “Now, I believe I'll retire for the evening. Age may not have dampened my enthusiasm, but it has certainly affected my stamina.” He winked. “Don't stay up too late. You'll want to be well-rested for tomorrow's... activities.”
With that, he made his way toward the exit, pausing to exchange pleasantries with a few other guests as he went. I remained where I was, my attention drawn back to the Tantric Bench and the possibilities it represented.
Tomorrow, I would have Theo again. But this time would be different. This time, I would take him deeper, show him aspects of himself he perhaps didn't yet realize existed. The thought filled me with an anticipation more profound than mere sexual desire. It was a hunger to witness his surrender, to guide him through the discovery of his own submission.
With Theo arranged on the bench, I would take my time exploring him, tracing patterns across his skin, alternating between gentle caresses and firm pressure, building sensations until he lost himself in them. I wanted to see his face when pleasure overwhelmed his inhibitions, when he surrendered not just his body but his pretenses. I wanted to hear him beg not because it was expected of him as a companion, but because he couldn't help himself.
The rest of the demonstration passed in something of a blur, my mind occupied with plans and possibilities for the following day. By the time the crowd began to disperse, night had fully descended, wrapping the resort in velvety darkness punctuated by strategically placed lanterns that cast pools of warm light across the paths.
As I made my way back to my villa, I found myself wondering what Theo was doing at that moment. Was he thinking of me as I was thinking of him? Or was I simply another client, a means to an end?
