“Daddy? You’re not...gonna...”
“Oscar will join us shortly,” Beckett answered. “He’ll do his bondage, and we’ll go from there.”
Noah let go of my hand as I trailed farther in. The floggers my fingers ran over were a combo of soft and scratchy. A few had other gadgets attached to the end.
What I was drawn to the most was the ropes. The ones that felt like silk against the skin of my fingers. They were red or black, and a few had matching eye masks.
“Hello.” I barely turned to see Oscar, the first and only man to ever use rope on me. “Asher. Great to see you.”
“Hi.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, so I turned back to the wall of items. I didn’t exactly listen to whatever the two brothers talked about until one of them called my name.
“We’ll be right out the door. Oscar knows your safe words. And once I think things are going okay, Noah and I will head to the playroom until my brother brings you to us.”
“Okay.” My heartbeat in my chest all of a sudden. I wasn’t sure I wanted them to be watching, or to go on their way already.
I was a grown man. I had to be fine.
“What do you want me to use, Asher?” Oscar asked as Beckett led Noah towards the door, but not exiting just yet.
“This.” My fingers ran over the silk once more. “Mask, too. I think.”
“Sure, I can work with that.” Oscar took the black mask and two different ropes off the wall, laying them over his arm before opening his arms to the wall. “In the middle of the room, please. Shirt and shoes off.”
Having instructions to follow, I did just that. I slipped my shoes off, tossed my shirt on top, then went to the center of the room. I faced away from the door, not wanting to see the moment that Beckett would decide that I was okay.
A small part of me wished it was Beckett who was giving me orders. But I was pretty sure that Noah wouldn’t enjoy seeing me tied up, or flogged if it were to get that far.
“Kneel.”
At that order, I fell to my knees easily. The floor was soft enough. I evened out my breathing as a few more muffled voices floated over me.
“I’m going to slip the mask over your eyes,” Oscar said as he stepped up beside me. “If you get to a yellow, tell me right away. Or red. There is no right or wrong way for you to respond.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Like the first and only other time, Oscar talked me through everything he was doing. He started to wrap my chest first in a harness type of design. With the mask on, all I could do was feel and listen to his voice. But even that disappeared after a few seconds.
I don’t know how much time passed, as I kneeled there.
With my eyes closed, I just felt. Truly felt.
Not just the emotions that ran havoc through my body, but the touch. So light in places, barely there and nearly ticklish in a way. But also the rope that was around my body.
It was wrapped around my shoulders and down my torso, keeping my arms pinned to my sides. I could wiggle my fingers, though. But the material of the rope was soft enough to not cut into my skin, but at the same time, it was a tiny bit scratchy against my skin.
My legs were left untied, although every few seconds the rope would hit the back of my legs as Oscar wrapped more of it around whatever part he wanted. Heck, right now he could wrap my legs, too, making it impossible to escape, even if I wanted to.
I went with the motion as he turned me, his touch focusing on my side, wrapping more rope around my left arm. My body swayed. I could pretend it was because he kept pulling and pushing while threading the rope through, creating a design against my body. But I think it was just me. Lost in time and space as he did his magic.
There was murmuring, too low for me to hear, so I just knelt there, quietly. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to beg. I didn’t want to do anything but do as I was told.
My head was tipped back by a hand in my hair, forcing me to look up, yet my eyes stayed as they were, closed off to the room and to the man who was using me for his masterpiece.
With one hand in my hair, there was another set of hands on my body. These hands were soft and gentle, but touching more than what Oscar’s touch had been. I leaned into the touch a bit, soaking up every bit of it.
Sometimes, someone’s fingers went underneath a piece of rope, before disappearing once more.
My knees didn’t want to hold my weight, but there was still a hand in my hair, keeping me in place.
