by Luna, David
SEBASTIAN, LULLED INTO A FLOATING calm after having been flogged until he was nearly in subspace, gasped when the butt plug Master had inserted earlier—which he’d nearly forgotten in his blissed-out state—began to vibrate. He was so surprised he nearly missed it when he was asked to check in, but managed to do so before losing himself again.
The last time he’d worn a similar plug and cage, he’d somehow managed to come without an erection. Wondering what Master had in mind, he was completely distracted from everything going on around him. The tight stretching in his arms and shoulders combined with the warm, dull ache of the entire back side of his body, even the audience members and Khaleo’s camera so front and center in his mind only short moments ago, seemed to disappear as his mind fixated on Master’s endgame. And he always had an endgame.
With his mind unfocused on his surroundings, he barely registered the hiss coming from overhead, but when warm water showered down on him from above, his body reacted like it had been electrocuted, and he let out a startled gasp followed by a desperate moan as he realized Master was recreating the shower scene he’d never been able to get out of his head.
He didn’t even know he’d begun to mumble, “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” before his whole body started to shake and his words cut off as his teeth started to chatter, the reactions of his body out of his control.
He distantly realized Gideon would see his body’s response and worry. “Green, green, green, Master. Please, please, more, Sir.”
“That’s my good boy. You know what I like to hear.”
The first dull thud of the thick rubber whip was almost a relief. Master was easing him into it and with his whole body reacting in ways he could hardly fathom, he was grateful. The thuds got harder and faster and centered around his upper thighs and back making him realize the next whip would be focused purely on his ass and the thought of that made his body quake.
He knew he was making noise but he was only half aware of the whimpers, gasps, groans, and moans. And the begging. He was pretty sure he was begging. He was being battered and overcome by all the different sensations; the chains around his wrists, gripped in his hands, the shackles keeping him in place, his shoulder muscles being stretched by the weight of his body leaning forward, the heat remaining from his flogging, the thud from the rubber whip now feeling more like a sting as it moved faster on his over sensitized skin, and the water, oh god, the water was making his nerve endings sing. And finally, there was a brief pause, followed by a resounding sting of the paracord whip he knew Master was now wielding over the swell of his ass cheek.
That whip fell again, and again, and again making him cry out over and over and over. He was so close to losing his control. So close, but he knew he couldn’t disappoint himself by coming without permission. He was floating and control felt like it was slipping further and further from his grasp. He was lost in a maelstrom of emotions and sensations and he realized he was close to not being able to take anymore.
And then, everything stopped.
The water had been turned off, the whipping had ended. Water sluiced down his naked body, off the chains, and from the showerheads as well, and fell with a drip, drip, drip on the floor below. Eyes closed, he was only aware of sensations and sounds. He heard the thunk, thunk, thunk of Gideon’s heavy boots on the wet surface of the stage and waited.
His heart was beating a mile a minute and breaths panted out of him as if he’d run a mile. The tether holding him to Earth nearing its breaking point. The anticipation was driving him wild. And though he knew the scene was nearly finished and the water was a huge component of their session, he still wasn’t convinced that was Master’s endgame. He couldn’t imagine he’d want his boy to come in public, hell, he’d been shocked when he’d asked him to strip. But stranger things had happened.
His chastity device left nothing to the imagination. It sat flush against his hips, and the cage was the most revealing of the three. The audience was seeing every bit of his Master’s boy and though it wasn’t something he’d normally do, something about everything they’d done that night felt right. He no longer felt ashamed about his appearance and knew Master was so proud to call him his.
He felt a hand at his wrist and then one chain was gone, the ache in his shoulder fierce, but not too painful, when his arm was finally down by his side. The second chain was gone, moments later, and that same fierce ache made itself known on the other side. He felt his ankle shackles being released and he was eased back on his heels, finally relaxing all his muscles at once, unable to move any further, feeling boneless, and weightless.
And then Master was there, pulling Sebastian’s back flush against his solid, warm, chest, murmuring, “Lean all your weight on me. That’s it. You’re such a good boy.”
He continued to murmur, though the mic projected everything to the crowd he knew was still watching in complete and utter silence. His eyes remained closed as the feeling of floating consumed him, finally in Master’s arms. He thought for a moment it was over and then the vibrator in his ass was set to stun and he cried out, throwing his head back against Gideon’s shoulder, bringing an aching arm up to grip the back of Master’s neck and sliding his fingers up into his hair, needing to find purchase.
Master reached up and gripped his throat tightly prompting Sebastian to suck in a breath and hold it, his control nearly gone. His hips started undulating, trying to find friction, his cock doing its best and failing to get hard. And then it didn’t matter, because Master ordered, “Come for me, boy.” And he did. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and his hips moved in tandem with the volleys of cum shooting from his limp, caged, cock. It felt like it would never end, and as the ribbons of his spunk continued to erupt out of his slit the audience gasped and murmured as he cried out and Master continued to encourage him through to the end.
When it was all over his arm fell loosely to his side and Master’s grip on his throat eased, allowing him to exhale. His breathing began to slow and he heard a murmured thank you, which prompted him to open his eyes to see Khaleo handing off a blanket to his Master. Still unable to move, he stayed where he was, sitting back on his heels, knees spread wide, in full view of everyone still watching every move they made. He was too blissed out to care and closed his eyes again as he felt the blanket being wrapped tightly around him.
The ear mic he’d forgotten he was wearing was removed from his ear and so was Gideon’s, the soft words of praise coming from Master’s lips were only for his ears. He lost track of anything and everything that wasn’t that voice and the feeling of his Master’s arms around him. When Gideon lifted him up, he opened his eyes again and realized everyone was standing, watching them still.
Gideon held him tight against his chest and walked down the steps off the stage, carrying him through the throng of the crowd which parted for them in respect and some of what Sebastian realized was reverence. He’d known of the rule about not clapping or making noise at the end of public scenes in order to help keep the sub in subspace, but he had to close his eyes at the intensity of the moment. Walking through the crowd, being so close to those that had watched every last intimate moment of their scene play out was too much. He tucked his head under Master’s chin and got a kiss in return.
Gideon walked him directly to the elevator, the doors closing, affording them the privacy they needed. Master continued to murmur to him but he was gone, no longer able to focus, everything around him seemed hazy and he was floating along in bliss.
Next thing he knew he was being placed gently on their bed and Master made to walk away but he quickly clasped his hand and whispered, “Please, don’t leave.”
“Baby, I was just going to get us a towel.”
“Mm mmm. Please, Master. Make love to me. I need you.”
A deep rumble came from Master’s chest. “I could never turn down a request like that, boy.”
Sebastian watched as he made quick work of toeing his boots off and dragging his soaked tactical pants d
own his legs and off, onto the floor. And then he was quickly removing Sebastian’s chastity device and they were skin to skin, each moaning their pleasure at the contact. Sebastian’s recovery time was ridiculously fast, as his cock became hard the second he felt Master’s hips and hard cock rubbing against him.
He heard the snick of the lube bottle and then before he knew what was happening, the butt plug was out, and Gideon was deep within his body and they were moving as one, all lips and teeth and hands. Desperation drove them both. Their coupling frantic, their releases coming fast, and all-consuming.
He’d thought they’d drift to sleep afterwards, but Master had other ideas. He was up and starting a bath in moments. As they waited for the enormous tub to fill, Gideon came back and had him turn over. He rubbed his shoulders down while they waited and then carried him to the tub, put him in the steaming water, and turned on the jets, leaving a bottle of water beside him and ordering him to drink up.
Sebastian soaked for twenty minutes and just as he was about to call for Gideon, he came into the bathroom, helped him out of the tub and dried him off. He picked him up, carried him to the bed and had him lie down again and then proceeded to rub him down from head to toe, rubbing arnica cream where it was needed. He felt completely relaxed, blissed out, and strangely ravenous. He figured he could just drift off and sleep and he’d eat in the morning, but in walked Gideon, a cheese board to rival all cheese boards in his hands.
There was a variety of cheeses, nuts, cured meats, fruit, and crackers. They ate every last morsel. When Gideon had cleared it all away, they both lay down in each other’s arms, talking late into the night. Hours later, when they both got tired and words no longer sufficed, they made love once more, and finally, fully sated, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, more content than either of them could ever remember.
SEBASTIAN WALKED WITH LOLA TO Meta Ink, frustrated that he had to work on the day of his twenty-eighth birthday when Gideon had planned their entire day. Phuong (Phoenix) Nguyen, his piercer, scheduler, and all around front desk clerk, had scheduled him for one tattoo at 9 a.m. Instead of trying to reschedule at the last minute, he’d promised Gideon he’d be done in an hour, scheduling a second session if it looked like it was going to take longer.
Phoenix had felt awful when she’d realized what she’d done, nearly crying when she offered to reschedule for him. He’d felt so bad that she’d gotten so upset, he’d just agreed to the hour-long appointment. She’d never made a mistake like that before, and he figured it wasn’t that big of a deal. She was so great, he wasn’t going to quibble about a tiny scheduling mistake.
Phoenix’s girlfriend, Posey Hughes, was one of his three tattoo artists. Luca Delaney and Gunner Torres rounded out his team. They’d become a close knit little family unit and Sebastian couldn’t be happier with his crew at the studio. It had been an amazing four months since the day he’d opened his place. He’d vacillated on the name, but because his own specialty was transforming people’s scars into beautiful works of art, he’d finally settled on Metamorphosis Ink.
The studio was thriving, his previous as well as his backlog of customers followed him, and the same could be said about his other artists, so they’d had a solid starting point. On the morning of his birthday, his whole team was there. Strange, that. He didn’t think Luca had been scheduled. They were busy setting up their stations though, so he figured there had been some last-minute changes. Phoenix turned on the sound system and opened the laptop, he assumed, to make her morning social media posts for the studio.
He’d shown up with only fifteen minutes to spare so he told everyone good morning, received a resounding happy birthday greeting, and then watched, bemused as they all went about their business. Curious. He didn’t have enough time to think on it though, so he went upstairs to what was now the loft, overlooking the studio below, and got himself ready for his new client. Lola, needing to say hello to everyone and nab a couple puppy treats from the suckers down below, meandered on up the stairs a couple minutes later, collapsed in a heap on her bed, and began gnawing on her rawhide bone. Spoiled rotten, that one, but worth her weight in gold.
He distracted himself with setting up his own station and then washed his hands at his sink, as ready as he could be, without knowing what he’d be doing for his new client. He was about to go downstairs to greet his client but apparently, they were early and he’d missed the bell ringing when the front door opened because he could hear footsteps on the stairs. Strangely enough, instead of playing the role of the laziest dog on the planet, as per usual, Lola was up, her ears perked and tail wagging, approaching the stairs. Weird behavior for his girl.
What the hell was going on today?
He made a kissy noise and admonished her, “Lola, move back and give them some room, girl.”
Completely ignoring him, she started hopping around, her whole backside moving in her excitement. Confused, he approached and was shocked when Gideon walked up the stairs, a grin on his face, his favorite coffee in a drink carrier and pastries in the fancy box Braden used at Sugar n’ Spice. No wonder he’d left twenty minutes earlier than he and Lola had left. Things just got stranger and stranger.
Handing over his cup of coffee, Gideon smiled. “Hey, baby. I wanted you to have your favorite on your birthday.”
He kissed and hugged him, and replied, “Thank you, Sir. You’ve probably got another five minutes before my client shows up, though.”
“Nah, I’m your next client.”
“What? But…”
Gideon smirked. “Your appointment is with M. G.”
Sebastian snorted and then folded his arms as a herd of buffalo made their way up the stairs. Luca the last of them, holding a bag that she set down on the counter by the sink, pulled out festive paper plates and napkins. They crowded around him singing happy birthday and hugging him. Gideon set down the box and Sebastian watched as his team nearly tore the thing open to get to Braden’s pastries.
They were devoured within minutes and his crew went back down the steps, presumably to get to work. Gideon approached him with a sheaf of papers, pulling the last one down, to reveal signature and date lines. “Can you sign this doc so I can get it to my dad? He’s going to see our financial advisors today and I need your signature to add you to an account.”
Sebastian scrawled his name and the date across the lines on the page and then looked at his Master giving him a bewildered smile. “You know, you didn’t have to make a fake appointment to come in and visit me at work.”
“It’s not fake. You’re giving me my first tattoo today. I know what I want and everything.”
“What? You don’t have to do that, Sir. It doesn’t bother me that you don’t have tattoos.” And it didn’t. His Master didn’t have any ink and he’d assumed tattoos just weren’t for him. Strangely enough, they’d never talked about it. Tattoos weren’t for everyone and he had to admit, he loved Master’s un-inked, beautiful, tanned skin. Obviously, he’d thought about what he’d do if he’d ever be given the chance—he was a tattoo artist after all—but, it wasn’t something he’d bring up. If Master wanted it, he’d ask and it had been months since it had even crossed his mind.
Gideon smiled indulgently at him. “Do I make it a habit of doing things I don’t want to do?”
“Um, no.”
“I’ve wanted your ink on my body pretty much since the day I found you in your old studio, beat to shit from your tumble down the stairs. This is just going to be my first and a small one at that. I’ll want more in the future that you can draw for me.”
A grin spread slowly across his face as he looked at Gideon. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. My skin is your canvas. It’s one thing I’ll allow you to take control of after my first one. Here.” He pulled something out of his pocket and Sebastian gaped at him when he saw what he was holding.
“But…”
“That’s what I want.”
“Sir, that’s a doodle.”
“It’s
a good doodle.”
“But…”
“I want it on my chest, over my heart.”
Sebastian’s jaw dropped and then he started laughing, tossed the scrap of paper aside, and shoved at Gideon’s chest, letting out an indelicate snort. “Yeah right. Come on. What do you really want?”
Gideon grew serious, picked up the paper and handed it back to him. His voice was a little growly and brooked no argument when he said, “I want this. Over my heart.”
“Sir, I could do something so much better than this. I was just fooling around. I thought I threw it away.”
“You did. I took it out of the trash. You were drawing it for me.”
“No, I…” Sebastian looked back down at the paper and then realized he was right and his eyes flicked back up to Gideon. “Maybe I did it with you in mind. But, will you give me some time to make it better? I can make it fancier. Bigger. Something.”
“Fancy? What would I want with fancy? I wear long-sleeved tshirts and tactical pants ninety-five percent of the time, regardless of where I’m going.”
“Yeah, but…”
“Do what you want to it while you’re inking it on my skin, but don’t embellish it much. I want a simple visual reminder of us inked onto my skin by your hand. My darkness, your light. I can’t think of anything better than my ropes tying us irrevocably together. Can you?”
Goddamn he loved his man. “No, Master, I can’t.”
“Good boy. Let’s get started. I’ve got a full day planned for us.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Sebastian glanced down at the simple, double infinity design he’d drawn of light and dark ropes, entwined, that he’d drawn on the back of a receipt, of all things. Just like his Master, he’d liked the symbolism of forever being tied to Gideon with his ropes.
He’d obviously been thinking about Master at the time, but he’d just been fooling around with an idea he thought he might want to add to his own skin. The thought of putting it on Master’s skin had never crossed his mind. And thinking about it then had his palms sweating with nervous anticipation. He’d drawn it in pencil, but if he was going to do it, and it looked like he was, he was going to do it in color.
