Becoming His Slave (40 page)

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Authors: Talon P. S.,Ayla Stephan

Tags: #MF, #slave, #mm, #Caning, #Master, #BDSM, #D/S

BOOK: Becoming His Slave
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But for Diesel’s ropes, each placement was precise. The tension was specific and he laid them out like brush strokes of painted color across his skin.

Reaching the end of another length Diesel took two more runs of rope, a cobalt blue and a dark pine green this time and took some added time extending each length individually with a nail knot.

The cleanly coiled back knot adding more esthetics to the use, a simple double overhand stopper knot on the end pieces prevented the nail column from slipping off.

Setting the two ‘
for show’
knots in perfect view, Diesel secured their placement as he carefully began to create a column of coils around Paris’ hips binding him to the bench, a perfect stack of ten coils neatly placed starting just under those
lick-able
hip bones up to his lower waist. A modified Leinchman's loop gave him an easy tie in for the last section of rope he would need. A simple zip hitch into the loop and Diesel trailed the new magenta length up the center of Paris’ chest. A center knot, then two sets of coils, plus four coils just under his peck muscles and another two above, bringing it all to a finally with a finishing knot.

Paris was enthralled that he was somehow part of this master piece of color and cords. He had watched as Diesel finished the last coils around his chest then moved back around behind him. He felt some tugging on his wrists then Diesel moved bringing the two long orange lead lines he’d left on Paris’ wrists up over his shoulders and down the center of his chest, a center knot then a framed loop and another center knot given strategically placement. Its purpose made clear as Diesel slid it over Paris’ cock, pulled his scrotum through then continued with the lines between his legs and underneath him then passed them back up to Trenton, one to either side of Paris’ head.

Paris felt like he was in a daze as he watched almost as if he was on the outside watching this happen to someone else, unawares that it was actually happening to him. He was light headed and they hadn’t even allowed him to have a shot of the tequila before coming up, though he had begged. He thought for sure this would be easier with a few in him, but for a reason he was unable to explain he was completely
calm
for a lack of a better word, because it wasn’t really calm, rather some surreal daze—like sleep walking. He just sat there and watched as the different colors of bundled silk rope coiled around and around his body. And all he could think about was,
wow
I like color
. That part was pretty weird and decided quickly to dispel the nerdy thought. It didn’t belong here. What he should have been doing is freaking out, panicking, maybe even fighting and telling Dominus to take his job at the island and shove it somewhere. But
no,
he wanted to keep that job and he definitely wanted to know what it would be like to have this man inside him, either of them—hell both of them.

Paris dropped his head back letting out a long deep sigh, that is until Diesel stepped to his side and prompted him to open his mouth and suddenly it was filled with something hard and cold. He could make out the chrome bite hooks to each side of his mouth, his tongue lashed out to find the foreign object, discovering the metal was wrapped in rubber where his teeth naturally bit down. Diesel took one rope end and then the other from Dominus and set them into the hooks on the bit.  Mouth bit. Paris jerked his head up, but the ropes pulled on his cock and then his hands. He moaned instantly when his arms resisted without thought and reversed the movement on the ropes once again sliding against his cock and scrotum and yanked his head back down.

That’s right about when reality began to sink in as both the Dominus and Patronus stepped back and watched him. Watched the slow development of panic like he was some artwork, a statue or something coming to life and life just wasn’t the natural place to be right now. They watched with subtle heated expressions of desire flickering like little flames in their eyes. It was obvious they knew what would happen, expected the delayed response from him and they lived for the moment. Like waiting out a boresome fireworks show just to get to the grand finale where the real
booms
and
oh’s
took place.

 

Trenton and Diesel watched—watched as Paris’ mind and his body slowly became aware of his restraints. First his head that tugged on his wrists then back to his head. It was this simple
mata nawa shibari,
the crotch rope that had started it. The stimulation delivered to his testicles and cock was waking him up and now the rest of him twitched and flexed against the bindings, testing and seeking what motion was availed to him. Paris was quickly finding out Diesel had left him with very little. And that seemed to click in his head, because quiet suddenly Paris’ struggles doubled.

Paris’ shoulders tensed, rolled forward, but that only lifted his wrists and once again the crotch rope shifted and he moaned from the stimulation. His chest and ribs shifted side to side, the minute inch or less he could manage. His hips managed even less nothing more than a flinch. More twitching and tensing—the peak of his panic coming to a crescendo and Paris finally let out a curse.


Sonnaffa ffitch!
” It was the best he could do with the damn horse bit in his mouth.

Paris did all he could to shift or loosen his bindings. Taking deep breathes he pumped his chest up, he twisted, curled and tensed—straining his muscles as hard as he could, but nothing gave and his masters gave no indication that there was anything he could do. They merely watched as he came apart. Nothing that showed on their face concerned them that he might break loose and then it struck him that while he couldn’t move much, the ropes were not overly tight and despite his struggles, nothing seemed to slip or start to cut. He couldn’t move, but he wasn’t in pain either. Just that one line of rope stroking his balls up and down against his groin every time he tried to move his head or his wrists.

As suddenly as the panic began, the energy required to maintain it vanished. Paris surrendered. His head falling back, his shoulders relaxed and he settled down letting his breathing slow. Only then did his masters return to him.

Paris closed his eyes for a long moment listening to his heart beat pounding in his ears willing his chest to take deeper and slower breaths.

“That’s it breath.” Paris listened to his Dominus; the deep soothing voice. Still he kept his eyes closed, as Dominus’ hand stroke over his chest, fingering around the ropes and it felt oddly very arousing. “You did very well.”

Trenton added his other hand and Paris moaned to have the sensation of both hands smoothing over his body. God it felt good, strong firm fingers pressed into his taut muscles running along the bindings, easy him. Stimulating him, heating him.

“Very good.” Trenton said again. “Just remember, you have no control over what happens to you, but trust your master that you will never be harmed. Never be pushed further then your master feel you can handle.”

Paris could hear something at his legs. He knew Diesel was there, but he was afraid to look, afraid to know what was coming next. Better to just lay there with eyes closed and focus on Trenton. Trust, he wouldn’t be hurt.

But that idea was shot to hell when he felt the cool gel being smeared against the rear entrance of his ass. Eyes popped open, head up—
damn

the rope
. The groan escaped him and his head dropped back down.

“Relax. You can take this.” He heard Diesel telling him. And the first of the penetration began, slowly easing in. Pushing the tight ring of muscle to make access, a little in—a little in—then out. That fist stretch of teasing pleasure in pain. Paris let out his breath with a heavy pant.

Trenton’s hand moved to Paris’ head and running his fingers through his hair, but watching Diesel and Paris saw Dominus give him a nod.  Seconds later he heard the hum then felt the object pushing against his ass again only with an added vibrating sensation and Diesel pushed it in. Paris’s nerves lit up as the vibrator pushed further—backed out a bit then pushed in again. Each time a little further, teasing, Paris wriggled as much as the rope would allow, the gel warming then tingling.
God,
to hell with the teasing and easing in, he just wanted to feel it all the way. Wanted to feel that sweet sensation of being fully stretched. He moaned his pleas as best he could against the mouth bit, “
Oh

gahf

flease
.”

His gaze shot up to Trenton who was looking down at him now and he gave him the strongest pleading expression he thought he could create.

“Relax, you’ll have what you need, but at the pace we decide for you and not before.”  And as if to prove a point the vibrator disappeared.


Ahhf

ffucg. No
.” Paris’ eyes rolled to the back of his head, dreading the loss of sensation from whatever it was Diesel had used to prod his sphincter.

The humming sound changed and then he felt it returned to his body and just like the sound, the sensation changed to something more of a strobing sensation and Diesel pushed it all the way in with one easy solid stroke. The stretch was just as Paris was aching for—sweet and exquisite. He groaned against his bit. The anal plug reached deep, delivering a throbbing, vibrating pulse. Paris' rectal muscles clamped down, hugging at the sensation and he discovered he could get just enough pivot out of his hips to tweak out an extra bite to the intrusion, but as good as it felt, it would not be enough to cheat out an orgasm if they chose to withhold it from him.

There was a click and the pulsing vibration picked up in frequency and Paris moaned again. His body tingling and he could feel the pain build, a need for an orgasm that would not come easily. The body knew this before the mind did and that tantalizing ride was suddenly laced with agonizing pain, because it knew what it couldn’t have.

And then it stopped. Paris opened his eyes to find Diesel now at his side looking down at him. He held something up. A narrow black object. A remote.

“We're going to let a few members become acquainted with you now. Sasha and his twin
Subbies
." Diesel stroked Paris’ head, his strong grip reassuring him it was really his touch. Paris wanted more of that, something so foolish as Diesel's hand on him, that hot palm petting him like last night. And despite the risk of pulling on the crotch line he pressed against Diesel’s palm, rolling his head into the caress.

“I’m going to let them enjoy touching you as I have, but just remember your orgasm is mine.” And Diesel stepped away.

Paris jerked his head, but saw Dominus was also stepping away.
No, wait, what was that about the others?
He didn’t have to wait for that answer. Immediately the tall blond dressed in gothic blacks, he saw sitting next to the club’s owner, was first to step up. Sasha’s hands immediately gliding over his chest.

“God your beautiful—look at those muscles.” Sasha’s hand gripped at Paris’ muscle pecks, trapped in the bound coils of rope and squeezed. “Look at those gorgeous red nipples.” And just as the big Dom lowered to lick at them, the plug in his ass started up. Again doing something new. Vibrating as it did the first time Paris also felt it expand as if it was thrusting forwards, elongating inside him then back, lengthening, and then returning. The dual sensation in his ass paired with the fervent suckling giving by the Dom bent over him was—
oh god
—he didn’t know what to call it but it was good—
Real good
. And his nerves fired off climbing higher.

His cock was swelling till it was so hard it ached, but it did not go without for long. Two pairs of hands sliding up his thighs, up his loins “Dom may we?” Paris heard a duet of voices make the request.


Mmm
—who am I to deny my twin Subbies such a beautiful feast—

huh
?” Sasha stood up and circled around Paris till he was behind him, the Dom leaned over Paris, his hands stroking down Paris’ chest and over his abdomen then back up, “I think I am going to let them suck you off so I can watch.”

Paris strained to lift his head against the bit to see the twins kneeling at his legs, beyond them, Trenton and Diesel watching as they said they would while relaxed back on the sofa against the wall.

“May we enjoy your slave tonight? Dominus, Patronus.” Sasha respectfully requested permission. Paris had already been offered, but the request came out of ceremony. A requirement for such sharing from these two.

“Enjoy until we say otherwise.” Paris heard the permission granted and then the teasing vibrating plug began another sensation—the thrusting, extending feeling was rotating like a wobbling tip and that was just a little too much to fathom as it rolled over the tender prostate. Paris moaned, and he moaned loud. Sasha who still leaned over him never stopping his broad strokes up and down his body and the two Subs, Paris could not see more than their black cyber dreads were lathing over his cock with their paired hands and fondled his tightening sacks.

Still trying to decipher the accumulation of stimulation Paris felt another… in unison two tongues darted around his shaft flicking about like dainty wet fairies dancing over his cock and his thighs. He could no longer comprehend what the twins were doing to him. If only he could look and see then perhaps some of what they were doing would make sense, but he could barely make sense of the gyrating, pulsing toy in his rear as it extended and stretched his walls and his senses. Both overwhelming pleasures mingled with the broad strokes of Sasha’s hands on his body.

Paris’ whole body was building and firing off like electric fires igniting at different frequencies. He wanted to move, to create some form of rhythm in his body to ride it up where he could handle it all, but the sensations—they all moved at different paces, not at all in sync with each other and it was maddening.
Fuck
it was too much. He strained and fought against his restraints. Once more panic seized his body and mind. He needed to control some part of the stimulations he was feeling, but he gained nothing and still the invigorating attack of sensations possessed him. Accelerating. Devouring his mind and every sensory he had.

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