He pulls a marker out of his pocket and draws a thick black line down my chest, then he recaps it and taps my mouth with the end. I open and he slips it between my teeth. Once I take it, he pats my cheek with his sticky, gloved hand and smiles.
“Wouldn’t want to lose count,” he says.
My eyes roll back in my head and I groan when he taps my cheek a second time. He smirks and pushes me a little. The chains rattle and I lose my footing. My pants are still around my knees, and I’m already sore.
He slaps me again, harder this time. I bite down on the pen and he grabs my face roughly, his fingers and thumbs pressing into my cheeks. He moves my face around like he’s appraising me for sale then shoves me away. I drop my head. Saliva leaks out of my mouth and pools at my feet.
Ronan returns to the cabinet and searches around some more, producing what looks to be two thin, wooden dowels. They’re banded together on the ends, and while he’s walking back to me, he undoes one of the bands. I’m not sure what this is, or what it’s used for, but it reminds me of a cane, and I’m simultaneously aroused and scared.
He spreads the dowels apart and holds the contraption against my chest. One end snaps tight around one of my nipples, and as he bands the opposite end closed again, it constricts around the other. The little nubs on my chest are already on fire.
He drags the pad of his finger over one of my nipples and I grimace, baring my teeth around the marker I’m holding.
“Does that hurt you?” he asks, swirling his thumbs over both of the painful points of flesh. “I hope it does. That is what we’re here for after all.”
He reaches between my legs and strokes my cock again. The friction from his glove is rough, but it reminds me of the way it stung when he hit me in the face. His bare hand is curled around my balls, fingers prodding into my tender sac. He’s going to make me come again.
He makes a loop with his finger and thumb and pulls my balls down. The skin stretches and I cry out, but he doesn’t let go of my dick. The leather on his palm is hot and sticks to the skin of my shaft as he abuses the proudest piece of me.
Ronan leans forward and licks a wet stripe up my cheek.
“Your tears are delicious, Kevin,” he says, and I’m gone. Cum shoots against his fist and slides down his hand. He lets go of my balls and they tingle and retreat toward my body, spilling all of their contents at his demand.
He holds his palm flat below my mouth and I open, letting the marker tumble out. He uncaps it and draws another line on my chest.
