Angel and the Assassin (8 page)

Sir laughed. “You can be quite well-spoken when you‟re not saying like and dude.”

“Thank you, Sir. Please note I did not actually piss myself this time. I only did it the first time because I thought you were going to kill me.”

Sir looked into his eyes and said, “I was never going to kill you.” He pointed across the room to where a toilet stood with no enclosure around it, and beside it a small sink and a plain shower stall. “Go and use the loo.”

Angel hurried over to the toilet and urinated. When he looked up, he saw Sir locking the door and placing the key on the top of the door frame. Being so tall, Sir‟s 3reach was over eight feet. Angel knew he could not get the key if he wanted to leave.

He shivered, his cock growing stiff.

“What are you going to do to me, Sir?” he whispered, nervous and wildly excited at the same time.

“Anything I think you can handle, but nothing more, so don‟t be afraid. This has to be fun for us both, or it‟s no fun for either of us.” Sir smiled. “But I‟ll push your limits.”

“Your eyes crinkle when you smile, Sir. You do look a bit scary, but your smile is kind and sexy.”

Sir laughed. “That‟s how I fool people.”

“You‟re scary when you get angry though.”

“Don‟t make me angry then.” He pointed at the waist-high fridge beside the couch. “Fetch two bottles of water.”

Angel obeyed, hoping he would find some snacks in the fridge, but there was nothing but the water. He brought a bottle to Sir and opened the other for himself.

“Sir, I‟m hungry.”

“You can wait. Waiting will make a man of you. Drink some water. You‟re going to be sweating soon; you need to hydrate yourself. I am going to teach you to suck a cock. You can eat my cum.” He chuckled. “It‟s full of protein.”

Angel drank, watching as Sir fetched a low, leather-topped stool that looked like a toilet seat on legs, and set it down. “This is a rimming stool, but it‟s good for cock sucking too.” He sat down on it, his thighs wide apart, and pointed at the floor between them. “Get on your hands and knees, boy.”

Angel obeyed without question. He wanted desperately to learn how to please a man. More than anything he wanted to please this particular man, who both frightened and fascinated him. On his hands and knees, he waited for instructions, looking up expectantly into the beautiful blue eyes.

“Take my cock in your mouth.”

Angel reached out to grasp the thick cock, already stiff and jutting out.

“I didn‟t say touch it!” Angel flinched. “Keep your hands and knees firmly on the floor.”

“Sorry, Sir.” Angel edged forward and, with his lips, reached for Sir‟s cock.

Between his thighs, his own cock, which had been growing hard, fell limp at Sir‟s raised voice.

“I‟ll help you.” Sir lifted his cock. Angel opened his mouth wide and felt the long, smooth length of flesh fill his mouth. When he thought his mouth was full and tried to begin sucking, Sir grabbed the back of Angel‟s head, pulling it forward and pushing his cock in farther until the tip bumped against the back of Angel‟s throat, cutting off his air.

Panicked and thinking he was about to choke, Angel struggled to maintain his position, his fingers curling, clawing at the hardwood floor beneath them. His back rounded up like a cat when it‟s afraid or angry. He wanted to bring up his hands to push the cock out of his mouth, but he didn‟t dare.

Slowly Sir drew back, sliding his cock out, allowing Angel to take a long breath. “Good boy,” he said. “Good boy.”

Angel looked up at him with utter gratitude at his approval.

“Now start again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

This time Angel was ready. Opening his mouth wide, he took the cock inside, drawing it in deep against his throat, sucking and sucking. The long, thick shaft was smooth against his tongue. It tasted clean and slightly salty when the precum began to ooze out.

Sir moaned from deep in his chest, making Angel want to look up into his face to see the effect he was having. But the only thing he could see was the dark blond, curly pubic hair in front of his eyes and the flat, muscled belly above it. For a long time he sucked, until his jaw began to ache and he marveled at Sir‟s ability to hold back his climax.

Without his being aware of the moment it actually happened, his reality became the hardness of the floor beneath his hands and knees and the bright light overhead, which he wished could be turned lower. He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn‟t want to miss anything. The most important thing in his world became the cock filling his mouth and the smell of Sir‟s sweat. All his senses were concentrated in his mouth and nose.

When the gush of warm fluids shot into his throat, he was ready and swallowed its warm saltiness with more gratitude than he would have believed possible. Sir grabbed the back of his head again, pressing his cock in tighter, making it impossible to breathe for several seconds. Angel waited, hoping he had pleased him.

The cock slid out of his mouth. He took a long breath and looked up. Sir‟s eyes were half-closed and faraway. His chest gleamed with sweat. Angel began to rise up onto his knees. He wanted to press his face into Sir‟s smooth chest, to mouth his nipples and wrap his arms around him. When Sir pushed him back down on the floor, he knew he should have asked permission first and was mortified to have done something wrong.

“When you are in this room, you will not move without my permission.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The corner of Sir‟s mouth tilted, and he brought his hands down under Angel‟s armpits to lift him up to a kneeling position. Sir looked at him, tracing the shape of Angel‟s nose and mouth with his fingertip. “Pretty boy. Such a sweet rosebud mouth and delicate nose. Are you still hungry?”

Angel shook his head. He wanted to be brave and not needy or complaining. “I can wait, Sir. Like you said, cum has lots of protein. Are you going to spank me, Sir?”

3“Is that what you want?”

“Oh God, yes!” His response was so instant and heartfelt that Sir laughed.

“I‟ll spank you when I‟m ready, boy. It‟s my choice, not yours.”

Sir stood up, forcing Angel to stand up with him. He was confused when Sir took him by the arm and walked him over to the toilet. “I don‟t need to go again, Sir.”

Sir did not speak, but set to work attaching a metal hose with a long, sleek, shiny steel nozzle to the tap and testing the warmth of the water and the strength of the flow. “Down on your hands and knees.”

Angel dropped to the floor at once, not wanting to be disciplined but nervous of what was coming. Watching over his shoulder, he saw Sir lubricate the nozzle with petroleum jelly “Is that an enema hose, Sir?”

Sir met his eyes. “It certainly is. Any objections?”

Actually he had lots. His fantasies had never included enemas. It took him several seconds to respond. “No, Sir.”

“Good. Eyes on the floor.” Angel obeyed and waited.

The feel of the cold, smooth nozzle sliding up his rectum made him suck in a breath. His cock rose up stiffer. When the water began to flow, warm and gentle, he dropped his head, suddenly overcome with weakness. His muscles felt like jelly, and he moaned from his open mouth.

“I want you nice and clean when I fist you,” Sir said as though he were talking about something quite mundane. “I enjoy fisting. It‟s very intimate.”

Suddenly unable to support his weight, Angel slid down flat on the floor, stretching his legs out and resting his head on one arm, forcing Sir to bend lower to keep the nozzle in place. He felt weak and helpless and waited to be disciplined. Sir said nothing but continued flooding warm water into his bowel. A sudden cramp ripped through Angel‟s gut, and he cried out.

“Are you cramping, boy?”

The concern in Sir‟s voice brought tears to his eyes. He moaned louder.

Sir pulled the nozzle out, picked Angel up from the floor as easily as if he were a rag doll, and sat him on the toilet. “Let it all go, boy.”

Angel‟s bowels opened. “Sir,” he moaned, his arms wrapped around his belly.

Horrified to find himself in this humiliating position with all it entailed, he looked up at Sir, his cheeks scarlet. A tear ran down his face.

Sir reached out to wipe away the tear with the pad of his thumb. “Don‟t be upset, boy; you‟re doing really well.”

“Am I, Sir?” Angel asked, anxious for approval.

“Yes, really well. When you‟re done, get in the shower.” Angel watched Sir walk away, the muscles in his buttocks moving under his tight skin, marveling at how handsome and masculine he was. He had spent the last couple of years dreaming about a leather daddy, never suspecting that one so damn hot would walk into his life in such a strange way. It was like a dream.

When his bowels were empty, he flushed the toilet, stepped quickly into the shower, and soaped his backside with great care. Sir valued cleanliness; he knew that already. He stepped out and dried himself off.

Angel‟s silvery eyes had never tolerated light very well, and he was relieved when Sir turned the lights lower. The bright-enough-for-surgery atmosphere mellowed into a cocoon of sensual possibility. Between the hot shower and the subdued lighting Angel began to feel at peace and ready to face anything Sir chose to do.

Sir walked over to the leather sling, beckoning him with one finger. “Come on, boy; don‟t dawdle.” Angel hurried toward him. Sir scooped him up in his arms and dumped him in the sling. Utterly content with all of Sir‟s attention focused on him, Angel shifted his body about until he was comfortable.

“Do you know what a safe word is?”

“No, Sir.”

“It‟s a word you use only when you have had as much as you can take and you know you cannot take any more. I always listen to a safe word. But use it very sparingly or I lose patience. Don‟t play games with me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Angel couldn‟t think of one reason why he would want a safe word.

He was so desperate for experience and to show Sir his worth.

“Red means stop.” Sir looked into his eyes. “Yellow means slow down. Green means you are happy and to keep putting on the pressure. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Sir quickly walked around the frame, lifting Angel‟s feet up into the loops and securing them with buckled straps. He did the same with his hands until Angel lay spread-eagled, his cock standing at attention. He allowed the sling and the loops to support him completely, letting all the tension dissolve from his body into the leather. He lay bound and vulnerable.

“Close your eyes and take long, slow breaths, boy.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Angel closed his eyes, completely content, utterly trusting. When he sensed Sir standing at his head, he opened his eyes to look up and saw a leather hood in Sir‟s hands. Panic and fear ripped through his body. He had seen hooded slaves in the magazines he had read and on the Net, but had always thought hoods looked claustrophobic and scary.

His eyes widened in horror. “Sir, no!”

“Calm down,” Sir ordered. “Don‟t you trust me?”

“Yes, Sir, but I don‟t want a hood.”

“I am in charge, not you, boy. You‟re going to wear a hood.”

4“No, no, really, please. I can‟t. Red!” His words came out as a high-pitched keening. Frantically, Angel began to pull at the restraints holding his wrists and ankles, trying vainly to free himself, but the more he pulled, the tighter the restraints drew.

“Stop it!” Sir said firmly but calmly. “You‟re going to hurt yourself.”

Overtaken with fear and unable to focus on the words, Angel continued to drag at the restraints, wide-eyed, his heart thudding against his ribs. But there was no escape. Sir walked around the frame and stood beside him, watching him. Angel began to scream unrestrainedly until his face was scarlet. When he calmed down long enough to focus, he saw Sir kneeling beside him, one hand on his head, the other rubbing his belly soothingly. Slowly his panic subsided. He felt cradled in Sir‟s hands just as if Sir, and not the sling, held him.

“Look at me, Angel.” His voice was so calm, Angel floated on a gentle wave of sound. He looked into the beautiful blue eyes and felt drawn into his soul.

“Listen carefully. I want you to wear a hood, but it doesn‟t have to be this one.

I‟ve got another one that won‟t cover your mouth and nose. Stay very still, and I‟ll get it.”

A shuddering sob shook Angel‟s body, but he was considerably calmer. His erection had softened in his panic, and he was no longer aroused but merely thoroughly ashamed to have disappointed Sir.

Sir returned, holding up a hood. “Look at this. Nice soft leather.” He rubbed it against Angel‟s cheeks. It felt like butter. “Smell it.” The scent alone was very arousing. “It pulls over the head and covers the eyes and ears, but has an opening for your mouth and nose. It‟s really more of a blindfold than a hood. It doesn‟t fasten at the neck like most hoods. It‟s easy to pull on and off.”

Angel sniffed at the leather. “Yes, I see that, Sir.” It was much less frightening than the first hood. Sir held it up on his fist to demonstrate. Angel looked at it, his throat tight and sore.

“While we are in my dungeon, you can call me Daddy,” Sir said softly.

“Thank you, Daddy.” He felt instantly better and very grateful. Sir was formal, Master was scary, but Daddy? Daddy was strong and kind and protective.

“Listen and I‟ll tell you why Daddy wants you to wear this.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Angel said quietly.

Angel looked up and saw nothing but kindness and gentleness in the handsome face. “This is all new to you.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“So you‟re anxious and distracted. You‟re looking around the dungeon, wondering what is going to happen next.” Angel nodded. Daddy was right. “When you wear a hood, you can see nothing. So there‟s one distraction eliminated. This hood will not completely remove your ability to hear, but it will muffle it. There are sounds in the room you don‟t notice most of the time. Me moving around. The toilet tank filling. The heat coming on and going off. All these sounds can distract you.