“I can put you in the same position using a spreader bar and a set of cuffs at home,” Joe said as he ran his hand down Scott’s spine.
Scott murmured a response, glorying in the gentle, reassuring touch.
“Would you like that, being trapped head down and arse up whenever I wanted, for as long as I wanted? Would you like turning up at my place never knowing if this is where you’d end up?”
Scott nodded as well as his position allowed. He could see it all so clearly in his mind. He knew he’d love it just as much as he loved everything Joe did to him.
If it involved Joe, Scott would love it. If it included an orgasm as well, nothing could compare to it.
“Don’t move until I tell you to,” Joe said.
Scott sensed Joe lifting up the top part of the stocks, but obediently remained in position. He wasn’t actually sure if he could move on his own; every limb and joint had seized up.
The order to move never actually arrived—not as a verbal command anyway. Joe simply caught hold of Scott’s shoulders and levered him up.
Scott gasped at the sudden movement. His head spun. Pain spiked through his body as muscles that had been contorted into a strange position were jerked out of it without warning.
“The pain will pass. Just breathe through it.” Joe moved around in front of him and guided Scott to lean forward and rest against his body.
A few minutes passed. Joe took off the nipple clamps without a warning. It was like being struck by lightning. Scott couldn’t keep back a yell. His body took over and tried to curl him into a tiny ball, but Joe wouldn’t allow it. He pulled Scott around and made him sit up.
Licking his thumb, Joe gently caressed Scott’s right nipple before blowing on it. Even the air brushing against it made Scott tremble. He looked up at Joe—he was smiling.
“You still haven’t answered my questions,” Joe reminded him.
Scott trawled through his memories. Most of them were fuzzy. It wasn’t easy to remember words when both his nipples were on fire. “Yes, s-sir.”
* * * * *
Joe chuckled. “Do you even remember what I asked?”
Scott frowned.
Joe gave in to the temptation to circle one of Scott’s nipples with a fingertip while he waited for an answer. Even that gentle touch sent a shudder running through him.
“Your p-place. Spreader b-bar.”
“Good boy, that’s right.” Joe moved his attention to the other nipple.
“Answer is still the s-same. Yes, s-sir.” He looked up and met Joe’s eyes; such pure peace and acceptance in his expression.
The breath caught in Joe’s throat. God, but Scott was perfect.
“And clamps,” Joe pointed out. “I have lots of them at home.”
“Yes, sir. Any t-time you want.”
Joe pulled Scott up for a kiss. Part of him wanted to make it sweet and reassuring, but he couldn’t help but take possession of Scott’s mouth—to take the control Scott offered him so instinctively, so completely.
“Good boy,” he whispered against his lips, before he went back for that slightly sweeter kiss.
Finally, he made himself stand up and help Scott to his feet.
“We’re leaving, s-sir?” Scott asked, tentatively.
“Not immediately. We have some cleaning up to do first.”
Scott glanced at the play station with the stocks and the cum stains on the mat he’d been bound on. “Yes, s-sir.”
