Dane’s far from finished with his role in tonight’s scene. Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against chaining a hot piece of ass to my cross and pounding into the guy until I get my rocks off, but that’s just a fuck, not a scene. Sex is the vehicle for growth and a deepened relationship, not the end goal.
Passivity won’t do at all, and mere acquiescence is not going to hurdle Dane over his limits. I’m here to guide him—to present the obstacles, coach him through them, spot him and watch for trouble—but he’s the guy who has to choose to leap each time. Anyone peering into this scene who might interpret the submissive as weak has absolutely no appreciation for the dynamic.
I clasp Dane by both shoulders. “I’m going to work you hard tonight, Dane, but I want you to remember, I’m right here with you. I care about you, and I respect your limits.”
Dane nods, barely able to speak at this point. I need to get this boy bound.
“Hop up on the bed, Dane. I want you right in the middle on all fours.”
He exhales heavily, an athlete about to step into the arena, and I do the same. While I’m at it, I send up a prayer that I’ll do this right. Kneeling up at his side, I run my palms down his back and praise his perfect posture. As I reach his plump cheeks, Dane stiffens under my touch, his body a tight knot of tension and anticipation.
I’m careful to pepper in plenty of caresses and tender words while I latch him into his wrist cuffs. The eight-inch chain clipped between his wrists will hold Dane in place without pulling him off balance, and the hardware directly in his line of sight will keep him nice and hard for me.
Kneeling in front of him, I riffle my fingers through Dane’s hair, tipping his face up so I can see how he’s doing. Glazed and excited.
“You won’t be able to move after I clip your thigh straps in place. Let me hear your safe word, Dane.”
I move swiftly to the bedpost by his left foot. The rope is a tight bungee cord that will feel secure but accommodate slight movement if he pulls too sharply—a bit of a failsafe. With the cord knotted to the bedpost and clipped into the d-ring on the soft black leather strap, it’s ready to fasten to my willing captive. I draw my hand up his calf, anchoring his hip against my body to steady him while I loop the leather around his thigh. Dane grunts as I coax open his thigh and draw his leg toward the post.
“Feel that stretch, Dane?”
“Yessss, Master,” he hisses. It’s not enough to strain his well-trained muscles, just enough to keep his head in the game.
By the time I fasten the leather on his right thigh and ask him how it feels to be chained in place on his hands and knees, I’m sure Dane is getting a pretty good idea that tonight is going to be heavy on the audience participation.
“Now that I’ve got you naked and open for me,” I start, punctuating “open” by running my fingers between his nicely spread cheeks, “I can see that I absolutely made the right decision to get you out of your clothes, don’t you agree?”
His response sounds far away. He’s almost there, and I know exactly how to send him to the deep end of his sub space. I grasp my leather paddle and place the business end where Dane can see it.
“The paddle isn’t nearly as much fun over wool trousers or even your teeny, tiny, teasing briefs. I know you’re going to love the way the leather feels on your bare ass. And that sound! The dull thud of the slap against your skin just before the sting spreads across the surface . . .”
Easy, Marcus. Are you paddling your sub or composing poetry here?
The hungry look in Dane’s eyes tells me the words are affecting him, too.
“When you’re ready for your Master’s paddle, I want you to kiss the leather. Once for soft, twice for medium, three times for hard.” I’d be shocked if he got past one tonight, and frankly, I’m not even sure I want him to. The point is, he knows he’s in control. “No matter what you choose, Dane, I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”
Clasping his shoulder for moral support, I bring the paddle toward his lips and wait for his decision.
Without hesitation, Dane leans into the paddle and kisses it once.
“Good choice, Dane. I’m so proud of you. Get ready to receive your Master’s gift.”
He takes a deep breath as I knee-walk around to his back side. Locking Dane steady against my side, I paddle him several quick strokes on each side before pausing to soothe him with my hand. The paddle leaves a bright red splotch on both cheeks, and the sting is deeper than what I can achieve with an open hand, but the main difference between this and the spanking is the level of intimacy I’ve removed by imposing the twelve inches of cool, hard leather between his flesh and mine.
I offer the paddle to Dane once more. “You can kiss the paddle again, or if you’re ready to move on, just say, ‘No, thank you, Master.’”
Dane stretches for the leather, kissing it once again.
“Yes, Dane, I will paddle you again.”
I am more than happy to leave the timing up to Dane, knowing eventually, we will get down to the Main Event. I change it up a bit, alternating sides at first, then stroking him repeatedly on one cheek before switching. Dane rocks a bit in the bonds, but there’s not much play there.
When it’s time for a break, I squeeze some lube onto my fingertips and slick up the valley between his cheeks. Dane groans as my fingertip breaches his hole, and he drops his head and swoons as I penetrate the tight ring of muscle. He’s enjoying himself so much, he barely notices when the paddle strikes again, but his body responds by tightening around the finger twisting and plunging inside him.
His brain is a bit muddled as I offer him the paddle again, but he stretches to kiss it much quicker this time. I give him plenty of time to add a second, but he sticks with the one.
“Your lips say ‘soft’, but your cock says ‘hard’,” I tease, reaching between his legs and tugging on his erection with my slicked-up hand. Dane cries out and shakes his head while I pump him.
Adding more lube for good measure, I start paddling again while two fingers find their way inside. He’s narrow but aroused, and with more scissoring and dirty talk, his body is ready for mine.
I set the paddle by his mouth again. “Your choice, Dane. I’m happy to paddle your sweet ass all night, but you’re not allowed to come this way, and don’t expect me to go easy on you with my fingers.”
Masochist that he is, Dane kisses the paddle once more, then meets my eye with such desperation, my entire body responds. He’s getting off on not getting off, delaying his own gratification while apparently enjoying one of his favorite activities. I smile, letting him know I’m fine with his choice.
“Master’s paddle is a big hit!” I chuckle.
Turning up the volume on the teasing, I catch the fleshiest part of his ass with the paddle while pushing deep inside his body. During “intermission,” I give an enthusiastic two-fisted hand job that leaves his cock rock hard and weeping.
I never promised to play fair.
After the last round of paddling and fondling, Dane’s had it. “No, thank you, Master,” he responds raggedly when offered the choice.
“You’re doing great, boy,” I praise him as I toss the paddle across the bed. “Your ass is deliciously rosy and your body is ready for me.” Lord knows, I’m ready for you!
With one hand between his shoulder blades, I gently command, “Sink.”
Into the bed.
Into your sub space.
Into your sub space.
His elbows and forehead meet the bed, his hands gliding together and joining under his chest. I turn his head tenderly so his cheek rests against the sheets.
“Breathe,” I remind him, fluttering my fingers through his hair and pushing the bangs off his forehead and out of his eyes. He draws in a deep breath and slowly releases it. I bend forward and rest my face on the bed just in front of his. “It’s me, Dane, and I’m not going to hurt you. No matter what.”
My promise is by no means all I wish to say right now, nowhere near all I feel for this beautiful boy giving the most intimate part of himself to me. But it’s one hundred percent true and exactly what he needs to hear.
We stay just like that for a good minute or two, passing the air between us back and forth and looking into the deep wells of truth behind each other’s eyes. He gathers his resolve and whispers, “I know, Master.”
In a flash, I’m lined up behind him, wrapped and slicked up and thick as a tree trunk. I grab onto his hips and thrust a few times along the well formed by the two mounds of flesh. Dane moans and pinches his eyes closed.
“Feel good, Dane?”
“Unnghh, yes, Master!”
“Just wait ‘til I get inside you!”
Dear God, how could anyone resist?
So many feelings try to tumble out as I spread him open with my thumbs, line up my tip, and press forward, I bite my lip to hold in all the words. The tight band of muscle gives way. Dane’s low grunt urges me on, and I rock into his body, gently at first, inching in gradually as he lifts to accommodate me. If it wasn’t so goddamn cliché, I’d add a line onto my poem right now about how perfectly the two of us fit together. He’s tight and hot around me but able to take me all the way inside, releasing a loud, “Unngh!” as I reach the gland at the end of the tunnel.
“Jesus, Dane, you feel so good around me!”
I pull back and thrust forward, again and again, taking the time to press against his prostate on each stroke.
Fuck, I’m addicted to his responses, and he rewards me with a rumbly grunt from the depths of his groin. I’m so close, and this is about as gone as I’ve seen Dane. My boy is a wad of need, but he’s not getting there without help.
“Come with me now, boy, or I’ll have to get my paddle out again!”
I grab Dane by the red hot apples of his ass cheeks, and he groans and raises his hips against me—the only range of movement available to him. The room is filled with the loud noises of our fucking—the slapping of skin against skin, the deep, animal grunts of pleasure and pain, the thwoop thwoop! of my cock filling his hole and pulling out, the desperate need rising like a gathering storm.
The cyclone spins in my groin, spiraling and picking up speed and force until it’s powerful enough to lift a two-story house right off its foundation. “Come on, Dane, don’t make me have to spank you!” I give it to him harder and faster until our synchronized groans are finally silenced by the strangled gasping for air as we reach our shared release.
My head is still spinning as I bend forward and drop a kiss on Dane’s back. In the deafening silence, I wonder if he can hear the powerful emotions screaming in my head. Then again, the beautiful man bound beneath me is likely to have a few thoughts of his own.
Dane’s gorgeous submission tonight has carried him to the deepest reaches of sub space we’ve explored together yet. As I run my hands up his back and peer around his heaving shoulders, Dane’s beautiful, trusting face appears in perfect repose—his eyes closed without tension and his lips forming a slack “o” as the soft puffs of breath find their way in and out.
He’s far away right now, in that floaty place where he can release all his inhibitions and live right on that razor-sharp edge of raw desire and trust. Dane’s powerful journey back to safety is mine to navigate; the aftercare is mine to administer with a tender hand—if I’m honest with myself, a loving hand.
Floaty, anyone? Sigh. Judy Blue asked if this chapter would have them "finishing the scene"...Since the aftercare is an integral part, I'll say nope. See you tomorrow? XXX