“More,” Dylan groaned with impatience, his breathing quickening.
“How do you ask?”
“I want more!” Dylan was whining now, his voice getting high in tone. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he yelled and writhed, ropes straining.
The corner of Master Kage’s lip twitched, and he dropped the bowl, letting the milk spill in front of the man’s face. A gasp echoed among the spectators and Finley could sense the echo of the Sub’s feelings by looking at the horror in Dylan’s expression. “I’m sorry, sorry, sorry…” he chanted, panting, his lips trembling.
He turned his gaze towards his Mistress, who shook her head, but her smile showed that she was not surprised at all. Apparently, there were limits to how long Dylan could play a good boy.
If given a chance, Finley would be the best sub. He would please Kage with his obedience and eagerness.Please, Sir. Let me please you.
The thought shot heat to Finley’s dick.What the hell?He’d always been in control during sex with women. He was the one doing the penetrating, after all. Then again…
He glanced at Dylan’s mistress, sitting cross-legged, her hooded gaze on her sub, her cheeks flushed.
Maybe Finley had never been in charge. It had only been an illusion fed to him by society. Even the blow jobs he’d received from men at a club hadn’t been his idea. But when a gorgeous twink had knelt in front of him and ghosted his hands over his groin, he’d been helpless to refuse. And had enjoyed every second. His lust-scrambled brain hurt from how hard Finley was trying to make sense of his reactions to the scene—of his new discoveries about himself.
“Now it’s time for your punishment,” Master Kage said loud enough to carry, bringing Finley back from his musings.
“Thank you, Sir.” Dylan closed his eyes, relaxing his body, clearly knowing what he’d done in the heat of the moment. He’d disappointed the Dom, as well as his Mistress, and now he was ready for whatever was coming at him.
Master Kage exchanged several words with the sub, and the man nodded. Even though a punishment was on its way, he made sure the Sub was in the right headspace. Finley had seen relationships and marriages with less concern for the other party than Master Kage had at any given moment for a person on his bench.
From the display of stainless steel items that made the wall look like something out of Dr Frankenstein’s laboratory, Master Kage picked a hook that ended in a ball.
The scene intensified from there as the lubed end slid inside Dylan.
How would the cold steel feel passing a ring of muscle and settling into place?Judging by the expression on Dylan’s face — very good.
Wiggling the hook farther in, Master Kage reached for a string of rope from the rolling table beside him. His long fingers worked magic on the strands and soon, he connected the loop end of the hook to the rope, and the other end to the Sub’s ponytail.
Dylan’s chin thrust up, as his body strung like a half-moon.
“Yes, Sir! Punish me, Sir!” Dylan’s voice was strained in the position but he kept repeating the words louder as Master Kage walked around him, touching the taut rope, Dylan’s arched back and his ass, inspecting his handiwork.
“Quiet,” Master Kage said in a tone so low it was nearly a growl, then landed a hand on Dylan’s ass cheek with a loud slap. The man upped the volume of his pleas driving the Dom to reach for a ball gag. His face close to Dylan’s, he asked him if he remembered his safeword. The man repeated it and confirmed he was far from using it. At that, Master Kage placed the gag in his mouth and strapped it behind his head. Next, he placed a stress ball into his hands, tied at the small of his back.
“Dropping the ball is the equivalent of your safeword, understood?” Master Kage asked. “Blink once for yes.”
Dylan tried to nod, but the movement pulled on the hook deep in him and he groaned. Then he met Master’s gaze and blinked once, but his expression suggested his mind was drifting away into a blissful state.
Master Kage took a step back and with his head tilted, admired Dylan like a piece of art in a museum. Finley had to admit that if museums had displays like Dylan, he would visit them a lot more often.
The true work of art on the stage was the Dom himself. When he moved in his tight leathers, he showcased his pert ass andslim waist with a hint of a dark trail that Finley would love to follow with his tongue. Then he would suck on Kage’s nipples, hard underneath the net vest, and enticing with the gleam of steel piercings. Fucking hell. Finley had never seen anyone sexier than Master Kage.
Approaching Dylan from behind, Master Kage poured oil on his hand, the flowery scent wafting towards Finley’s nostrils.
“This is not your punishment.” With the slick hand, the Dom cupped Dylan’s sac, rolling it in his palm, massaging.
Finley shifted his stance, imagining how those gentle yet firm fingers could feel on him, caressing him… He stifled a groan when Master Kage slid his hand down Dylan’s cock, stroking expertly, making the man bite into the gag, drooling.
“You’re not allowed to come.”
Dylan barked incoherently in protest. He couldn’t writhe in the restraints, but his entire body shook.
“You can wank on Sunday evening. Not a moment before. And your Mistress will punish you if you don’t comply.” His voice was so low, it sounded ominous. “Blink once if you understand.”
Dylan did, tears streaming down his cheeks.
