Absolutely.Taste his tears and luxuriate in his torment.
“Do youwantme to make you cry?”
He doesn’t respond immediately but glances again around the room. He’s not disgusted or frightened by my dungeon, he’s intrigued. “I don’t know. I might like to cry for you. Maybe one day you’ll decide I need a good spanking.” He says it with nonchalance, but his eyes burn with an intensity that is anything but.
“Maybe so.”
I come homefrom work the next day to find Giovanni and Rico sitting on the couch together going through a book of erotic BDSM photography. He must have really dug deep in my study to find that one, because it’s not one I have displayed for guests.
“What do you think about this one?” Giovanni asks Rico while pointing to a photograph.
“I don’t know about that,” Rico says, looking queasy.
“Let me see it.”
Both their heads snap up—I enter silently sometimes to test Rico’s awareness. He’d have failed this time and he knows it. He jumps up and apologizes for not greeting me sooner, but I let it go because I can see why he was so distracted and besides, I’m more interested to know what they were discussing. Giovanni angles the book in my direction. The female sub is strapped to a St. Andrew’s cross, facing outward with her breasts in a press and her nipples clamped, wearing a ball gag and blindfold. A pulse of desire flares in my cock when I picture Giovanni trussed up like that, though perhaps without the restraints. I’d flog him until his genitals are swollen and red and his blindfold is damp with tears.
I point to the press and say, “They make those instruments for testicles too. I happen to own one myself. It has a lovely screw contraption that tightens incrementally.”
“Not the boys.” Rico cringes and draws his knees together. This is not a conversation to be had with him present.
“Thank you, Rico. You may go now.”
“All right, Boss. See you tomorrow, Gio.”
“Bye, Rico,” Giovanni says, now turning another page where there is a man on his hands and knees wearing a studded collar and a leather leash, which is held by his female Dominant. The sub is bowing down to lick the woman’s high-heeled, thigh-high boots.
“What do you think of that one?” I ask mildly while taking up the seat beside him, still warm from Rico’s body heat. Giovanni scoots closer so that I can see the book, pressing himself against me in his habitual way. I sling one arm around him and recall how we used to do this when he was young with whatever object had captured his interest.
“I don’t know about licking shoes. Seems unsanitary.”
I suppress a chuckle. My boy is so practical. “What if they were clean?”
“Maybe then. If they were yours.”
He chances a look at me, and I hold his gaze. “Which person are you in this photograph?” I ask and Giovanni points easily to the man on his knees. “What about that appeals to you?”
“Being owned. He looks like a dog in this one. Pets are beloved and taken care of by their masters.”
Interesting choice of words.“That entices you?”
“Yes,” he says without any hesitation, and I don’t believe he’s saying it only for my benefit. “I’d like to be stroked and petted too.”
“And spoiled?”
“Of course,” he answers readily. “And kept.”
“Hmmm,” I say because my brain is a red fog of lust and desire. “Turn the page.”
Here is an action shot of a woman bent over a spanking bench with the paddle about to strike her bare ass. The look on her face is one of rapture as she anticipates the next blow her Dom will soon deliver, a masochist for certain.
“Who are you in this one?” I ask and he points immediately to the woman on the bench. “Do you think she’s in pain?”
“Yeah,” he says, though he seems excited by it.
“It’s harder to tell because it’s in black and white, but I bet her ass cheeks are red and swollen with welts. A paddle usually leaves bruises.”
His finger drifts over the pulpy-looking flesh and he says, “Does this turn you on, sir?”
