“It’s hard to work out which bit of jewellery looks better on you,” Joe said.
Scott licked his lips. They were dry with either nerves or desire, but he didn’t actually manage to comment.
Joe released his hold on the nipple clamp and stood up. The weight swung down and bounced against Scott’s chest. Ignoring that as best he could, Scott tilted his head back to look at Joe, but he couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a second.
“Imagine all your bondage has been released. You’re free to move however you want.”
Scott suspected that Joe meant he was allowed to stretch out any muscles which were threatening to cramp up. But he couldn’t help himself taking complete advantage of the permission. He slid out of his chair and landed at Joe’s feet.
His knees hit the ground hard, jolting his body and making the weights attached to his nipple clamps bounce and tug at invisible lines connected straight to every pleasure centre on his body. He ignored all that, leaned forward and rubbed his face against Joe’s fly.
Joe didn’t yell or order him away. That was all the encouragement Scott needed. He pressed open-mouthed kisses against the front of Joe’s jeans. His own cock was still trapped in the cage and unable to harden, but Joe didn’t have the same problem. His erection flourished, just a thin layer of denim stopping it rising proudly away from his body and standing to complete attention.
Scott tried to move his hand up to undo Joe’s fly, but Joe slid his hand into Scott’s hair and pulled his face back into his crotch.
Scott whimpered and licked the denim, willing to make the most of what he was offered; but it wasn’t enough. He needed Joe’s cock inside him. Joe had done as he had asked; he’d shown Scott how he’d have treated him if he had more experience. Now, Scott desperately needed Joe to show him that he still wanted to screw him even though he was as clueless as hell.
“P-please,” Scott mumbled in Joe’s lap. “P-please, Joe. Please, S-sir.”
Joe let him whisper and beg for a few minutes as he worshiped his cock through the fabric, but all too soon, he crouched down in front of Scott, rendering his crotch completely inaccessible.
“I haven’t finished showing you what I’d have done with a more experienced man.”
Scott hesitated, but only for a moment. Despite his desire to howl his frustration like a wild wolf caught in a trap, Scott knew that Joe’s preferences would always be more important than his own. “W-w-whatever you w-want,” he gasped out.
“Good boy.” Joe kissed him—hard, fast, but all too brief. Before Scott knew what was happening, Joe was already straightening up.
Scott sat back on his heels and stared up at him. His lips were sensitive after spending so long working against denim. The kiss had left him raw and desperate, but Joe picked up the handle of Scott’s lead and gently tugged him forward.
“Come on, Scottie.”
As soon as he leaned forward, Scott gasped. The new angle completely changed the way the nipple clamps pulled at him. The silver weights were teardrop-shaped and swung back and forth beneath his body every time he moved a limb. If hemanaged to go any distance without either moaning out loud or coming despite the cage, Scott knew it would be a miracle.
Dividing his time between looking up at Joe to try to read every hint of expression that passed across his face, and glancing in front of him to make sure he didn’t make a fool of himself by shuffling head-first into a piece of bondage furniture, Scott crawled at Joe’s heel toward the other side of the club.
Joe brought them to a stop in front of a length of wood. One-half of it was attached to the ground by huge metal bolts, the other half was hinged up. There were four semi-circular grooves cut out of each section.
“S-s-stocks,” Scott blurted out. He’d seen them in old Robin Hood movies. He knew what they were. He was sure he would be out of his depth again soon, but for a few seconds, he felt like a man who knew the answer to a question.
“Got it in one,” Joe said, ruffling Scott’s hair in praise. He nudged Scott forward. “Go ahead and try them out.”
Scott obeyed. Shuffling around to sit on the ground on the other side of the stocks, he placed his ankles in the centre two cut-outs and tried to line his wrists up with the two outside ones. He had to arch over in a really weird position, and even then his wrists didn’t line up as they should.
Sitting up, Scott pushed a hand through his hair. It wasn’t easy to think clearly when his entire nervous system screamed out in a complicated mixture of need, desire, and frustration.
It was several minutes before he managed to work out why the position didn’t feel quite right. He quickly rearranged himself, putting his ankles in the outside slots and his wrists in the inside ones. Everything lined up a bit better, but he still didn’t seem to be in a very useful position.
He frowned at the stocks. His heart raced faster and faster as he tried to work out what he was doing wrong. He was letting Joe down with his stupidity, and—
“T-two!” he blurted out as he realised what he was doing wrong. He looked up at Joe. “The stocks are for two m-men, aren’t they, s-sir?” He peered into Joe’s eyes, begging Joe to tell him that he’d guessed right, even if the idea that Joe might intend to bring another guy into the game scared the hell out of him.
“It could be used for two guys. I’ve seen them used that way. Or, there are a few different ways it can be used on one guy.”
Scott looked at the four cut-outs again, willing his brain to come up with the right solution.
Joe crouched down next to him.
Scott parted his lips, but Joe cut him off with a shake of the head. “Before you say anything, have I ever given you a row for not knowing how to do something?” Joe asked.
