Chapter Five
Now
Ward winces as I slowly increase the pressure of my grip on his junk but his hands remain behind his back.
Obviously, I don’t crank down as hard on him as I could, because I don’t want to hurt him so badly that he can’t perform in a little while.
No, I need him fully functioning, so he can help me put on a show for my dumb-ass husband, who’s probably straining to listen to every noise from down here.
And who’s probably still sporting one hell of an erection, the kinky bastard.
I tell Ward in excruciating detail about my first date with Liam, going out for sushi and talking. I want him to keenly ache over his loss, and the damage he did.
“That night, even though I’d just met him, I could see the pain in his eyes despite it having been seven years since you left him. He hadn’t evenstartedthe process of trying to work through it. Not really. He slapped a bandage over the wound and let it scab over without actually cleaning it out. He was functioning, but far from emotionally or even spiritually healthy. I’ve spent the last fourteen years with him. I have lived with him twice as long as you had with him, and I’m not giving him up without a fight.
“What I’m going to put you through will be part retribution for knowing he was married now and yet still jumping into the sack with him without at least talking to me first, and part retribution for the pain you caused him when you left him. He literally mourned you, but it’s like losing someone in a shipwreck, or they disappear into the wilderness, and they never find a body. The family will always hold out hope, right?
“And even though most everyone says look, stop hoping, because you’re only killing yourself, there’s always some other asshole. That asshole will point to theonefucking miracle, like that plane crash a few years back with all the governors on it. Where weeks later, they rescued a few survivors off this tiny damn rock in the middle of the ocean. The world had given up hope of finding anyone else alive, and not only did they find a survivor, they found several. If any of those survivors had died after being rescued, do you know how much more tragic that would be?
“I tell you all of this because I need you to understand how damned serious this is to me. How if this doesn’t work, and you can’t nut up and do the work this time and stand tall, it will quite possibly kill my husband. Maybe not physically, but it definitely will spiritually.”
I lean in close, in his face. “And if that happens, there isn’t a single place on the face of this earth where you’ll be able to hide from me where I won’t absolutely ruin everything you eventhinkof caring about.”
He swallows but nods. “Y-yes, Sir.”
“I hope you’re terrified right now.”
“I am, Sir.”
“Good.” I give his cock and balls one more warning squeeze before releasing him. Then I point in the direction of our downstairs bathroom. “Go use it.”
He hurries to do it.
When he returns, I put him on his knees in front of the couch, have him clasp his hands behind his head, and I use the plastic wrap as impromptu bondage tape to bind his wrists together, including one turn around his neck, so he’s forced to keep his hands behind his head.
Next, I sit on the couch and spread my thighs. I’m certain he’s feeling vulnerable right now, because I’m well familiar with this particular scenario and the emotions and reactions it can trigger. Liam, clothed, and me kneeling, naked, and bound.
Normally.
I grab the clothespins and immediately attach one to each of his nipples, making sure to grab a good amount of skin, not just his tit. I watch him wince and gauge his pain tolerance as I add more clothespins to the sensitive skin under his arms, three along each pit.
Then I sit back, unfasten my trousers, and pull out my cock. I’m not exactly sporting wood right now but I have a feeling I soon will be. I circle the base with my thumb and forefinger and shake it at him. “Suck it.”
He awkwardly shuffles forward on his knees, wincing because every movement jostles the clothes pins.
Yeah, those will be coming off him before I take him upstairs. I don’t want to give Liam any ideas. He’s a creative enough sadist without my input.
Ward also can’t brace himself with his hands bound behind his head like they are. As he starts to lean in, from his expression I know he realizes the other part of this equation—he won’t be able to keep from brushing his nipples, and the clothespins clamped to them, against the couch or my legs.
I can see the tipping point in his brain where he accepts he’s going to feel pain no matter what he does, and he finally decides to fully throw himself into it. His lips part and he’s moving slowly as he engulfs my erection with his mouth.
That’s when I grab the back of his head with my free hand and choke him on my cock.
Which, hellooo, hardens.
There we go.
“You can deep-throat him, you damn sure can take me, because we both know I’m not as hung as he is.”
