Bound and Determined (44 page)

definitely showed on his face. Damn, he was fucking this up—all he had to do

was get into the right head space, and he couldn't even do that.

Too late he realized how his expression might be misread—and going by

the anger in Kirk's eyes, it had been.

“You know, I'm starting to wonder if you deserve this,” Kirk said, his voice

tight with annoyance. “Deserve my attention, deserve my cock up your ass.

You're not impressing me, and Alex is gonna pay for telling me what a sweet

little fuck you were and how desperate, because right now, you're just wasting

my time.”

For all Kirk's posturing, there was genuine displeasure showing, and

Sterling supposed that it was justified. He was tumbling from one mistake to

another, nerves and need making him clumsy when he wanted to be perfect.

He closed his eyes, steadying himself. Fix this. Get Alex off the hook and

make Kirk want to play with him. He could do it, he could.

It wasn't easy to abase himself without really feeling any respect for Kirk,

but he made a small, apologetic whine like a whipped puppy and shuffled

forward on his knees, then leaned over and pressed his lips to the top of Kirk's

leather boots. It was the most humiliating position he'd ever been in, and it

flooded him with shamed arousal. He didn't think about backing down and

leaving; he'd gone too far. This felt like the day he'd pushed Owen into agreeing

to be his Dom; he felt the same impatience, a need so great that he
had
to have

it met and the hell with the consequences for him or anyone else.

It was selfish. It could have gotten Owen into trouble; tonight it'd gotten

Alex a whipping by the look of it, and if Owen found out he'd be hurt,

disappointed. Sterling knew all that but was determined not to let it stop him.

Other people's feelings didn't count. His father had taught him that by

example, ruthless in pursuit of his objectives, always successful. William's

ways worked, and Sterling had made them work for him too.

He needed the pain, the loss of control, and if Owen wouldn't give it to

him, he'd take it from someone else.

He rubbed his cheek against Kirk's boot and whimpered, needy, yearning.

See me beg, Master? See how sorry I am? Don't you want to punish me?

Hurt me, fuck me, own me, now, dammit, now—

“Get on the bench,” Kirk said sharply, and Sterling scrambled to do as

he'd been told. He'd seen padded benches like this at the club; it had supports

for his arms and legs and wasn't all that complicated, but he was grateful that

he'd watched someone getting spanked on one because it meant he was able to

get onto it, in position, without screwing up. “Nice.” Kirk's hand caressed

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Sterling's bare ass, then slapped it, but not hard. “I think I'd like to see what

you look like when you're strapped down.”

That made Sterling a little nervous again, but when it came down to it, he

was desperate enough that he'd have agreed to anything right then, so he

didn't protest but lay still, cooperative, as Kirk used thick straps to restrain

him. He was so vulnerable like this, his ass easily accessible and his cock and

balls hanging down, and once the straps were fastened, he literally couldn't

move.

Kirk didn't give him time to worry, though—he could feel a paddle being

rubbed against his ass. “Gonna get this ass nice and red,” Kirk said. “Warm

you up for me.”

And it started. The first whack sounded loud to Sterling's ears and was

immediately followed by the warm tingle of a blow that hadn't been all that

hard. Sterling wasn't sure if he should feel relieved that this wasn't going to get

out of hand or upset that it wouldn't be enough to take him out of his head,

but within half a dozen more strokes the blows were getting progressively

harder, and pretty soon he found himself grunting with each one. Kirk didn't

seem to have a problem with him making noise when he was being paddled, at

least.

It felt good. Different; he couldn't feel any connection running between

him and Kirk the way he had with Owen, no sense that this was something

they were sharing, but still, it was close enough to what he needed that he

soaked it up, thirsty for it.

“Owen did a number on your ass,” Kirk said conversationally, jarring

Sterling out of the warm fog he was in because he stopped the paddling. “What

did he use?”

Questions and a conversation about Owen were the last things he wanted,

but he forced himself to answer politely, his body tense, craving. “A crop,

Master Kirk.”

“When?”

“Christmas Day,” Sterling said, his teeth gritted against the desire to tell

Kirk to just get on with it.

Kirk chuckled. “Nice present, but he didn't hit you enough times. I'd have

really
made you squirm.”

Sterling remembered how five strokes had felt and shuddered. God, he'd

have done more than squirm…

“Oh, you like that idea, don't you?” Kirk said. The paddling resumed, but

in a desultory, uneven way, as if Kirk was bored. “You know why Alex is being

punished?”

“No, Master Kirk.” Those words were getting more and more difficult to say

in a way that sounded sincere. He needed more, and he needed a slow, steady

build, not this uneven, choppy, stop-start shit.

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189

“He told me to go easy on you.” Kirk laughed. “Said you were 'going

through stuff' and you were new… But he's not the one in charge here, is he?

I'm the one calling the shots.”

There wasn't a question in among all that, so Sterling didn't reply. There

was no way he was going to get off—emotionally or physically—from the

spanking he was getting, and he started to hope that Kirk would move on to

something else soon.

Kirk tossed the paddle across the room; it hit the floor where it was

nothing but bare concrete and made a clattering noise that startled Sterling so

that he strained against the straps holding him down.

Laughing, Kirk said, “You really are new. Hmm. I think I know what I

want to do with you next.”

Sterling found himself being unstrapped. His ass was sore, but not in a

good way; it was just a distraction as he stood up, muscles complaining

slightly, and then knelt with his wrists behind his back.

“Here, turn so you can see this.” Going over to Alex, Kirk casually removed

his gag. “Get up.” Sterling could see Alex working his jaw as he got to his feet

like Kirk had told him to. Then Kirk took Alex's bound cock in his hand and

stroked it.

Under other circumstances, the expression on Alex's face might have been

amusing, but he bit his lip hard as Kirk worked his cock, which was dark red

and swollen, blood trapped in it because of the cock ring. Alex whimpered and

Kirk let go, then slapped Alex's cock a few times, back and forth, until he

whimpered again.

“Back on your knees,” Kirk said, and Alex obeyed.

Kirk strolled over to Sterling again and lifted his face, examining his lips

and then sliding two fingers between them roughly.

“You do have a pretty mouth; I think I'd like to fuck it. Take out my cock.”

Sterling's mouth watered at the thought, and he fumbled the front of

Kirk's jeans open with eager fingers and pulled out Kirk's dick, which was

impressive in both length and girth, just like the man himself.

“Tell me you want it,” Kirk told him.

Quickly, Sterling said, “Please, Master Kirk, let me suck your cock. I want

it so bad. Please.”

That must have been enough, because Kirk didn't wait any longer, just

slid his thumb into the corner of Sterling's mouth to hold it open and pushed

his cock inside. The taste was bitter, like it had been a little too long since

Kirk's last shower, and Sterling had to fight not to gag as the head slid back

over his tongue and almost into his throat.

“Do a good job,” Kirk warned him.

It had been a
long
time since he'd done this, but it was something he

loved, and Sterling tried to make it good for Kirk, only to find that Kirk didn't

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want him to get inventive. Kirk wanted a wet, open mouth to fuck and that was

all. After some painful tugs on his hair and some sharply worded comments, he

concentrated on relaxing his throat muscles and trying not to drool too much.

What the hell did Alex see in this jerk?

Kirk's thrusts sped up, uncoordinated and invasive, chafing Sterling's

numb lips. His jaw ached, and he was praying that Kirk would come soon.

Instead, Kirk stopped and pulled out. Taking his cock in his hand, he wiped it

on Sterling's cheek, leaving it wet and sticky. “You've got a lot to learn about

sucking cock. Alex can take me all in, can't you, boy?”

Sterling didn't glance over at Alex to see him nod. He didn't want to

remember that his friend was in the room watching this, part of this; it was

just too embarrassing to think about.

“I'm going to finish in your ass.” Kirk announced. “Alex, you're still not

going to come tonight, no matter how much you beg and crawl, but I'll let you

to lube him up since you're so concerned about him. Use plenty; I'm going to

take my time.”

“Yes, Master.” Alex walked on his knees over to Sterling and took the

bottle of lube from Kirk, kissing Kirk's hand with obvious affection and closing

his eyes blissfully when Kirk caressed his hair more gently than Sterling would

have expected. Maybe Kirk wasn't a
complete
asshole. Maybe there were some

things he was good at—maybe fucking Sterling into a state of Zen would be one

of them.

“Don't touch his dick,” Kirk ordered, then went over to fiddle with the

straps on what looked like some kind of giant crucifix.

Alex looked into Sterling's eyes as he popped the bottle's lid up and

squeezed some lube onto his fingers, and Sterling did his best to communicate

that it was okay, that he was okay. Sighing with relief, Alex moved to one side

and slid his slick fingers down along Sterling's crack. It was hard not to tense

up, but he trusted Alex not to hurt him; he even let Alex urge him, with a hand

on his shoulder, down onto his hands and knees.

He did wish Alex could talk to him, but he hung his head down and closed

his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Alex's fingers tracing his hole wetly. He

was almost whimpering when they disappeared, only to return a few seconds

later, even slicker. One pushed its way into him and he gasped, then shifted

his hips back, trying to get it deeper. So close to his prostate—God, he wanted

it. His cock was so hard. The finger slid out, then another one slid back in,

pushing more lube into him and making him cry out before he could stop the

sound from escaping.

“That's enough,” Kirk said. Sterling turned his head and saw Kirk staring

at them, his tongue passing over his lips. Kirk had taken off his boots and

jeans, exposing long, powerful legs, taut and muscular. He was definitely good

to look at, Sterling thought hazily, eyeing the thick cock with a shiver of

arousal. “Over here.”

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191

With more enthusiasm, Sterling joined Kirk at the framework, wondering

just how this was going to work. He'd never fucked anyone standing up, or

been fucked that way, and once he was tied to the cross he wouldn't have

much flexibility.

“Stand up,” Kirk said, all business now, as if this, the sex, was what

mattered the most. Sterling had given up trying to analyze what Kirk got out of

this; he didn't seem to care about building a scene or even carrying through on

most of what he said. The playroom was full of toys, and Kirk looked the part of

a Dom, but that was as far as it went.

He let Kirk position him against the padded leather cross, his erection

pressed against the cool surface, and felt a familiar surge of excitement as one

wrist was bound, held in place. Yes. This was better. This was going to work…

Kirk grabbed his other wrist and pulled it up, the movement too abrupt.

Pain flared in Sterling's shoulder, a warning sign he'd learned to listen to since

he'd injured it. God, not now…

He shifted, trying to lessen the pressure on his shoulder, and Kirk slapped

his flank. “Keep still.”

“No, I just—”

“Shut up or I'll have to gag you,” Kirk said. “I can't have you distracting

me. You think this is easy?” He tightened the strap at Sterling's right wrist,