The Eager Boy

by Sean Michael

  At Stack’s bidding, Tide whipped his hole a couple more times. Then more fingerfucking. It was maddening in the best way.

  Then Stack helped him to stand again, right there for him as he needed a moment to get his bearings and his balance again.

  “Take a few breaths; then I want you to ride the dildo, boy.”

  “Master.” He wasn’t sure what he meant. He wasn’t sure it mattered.

  “My boy.” Stack tugged him back slightly. “You’ll have to crouch over it.” Stack grinned wickedly. “It’ll be just like squats. With a bonus.”

  “What if my legs give out?”

  “Then I’ll raise and lower you until you come.”

  “Yes, Master.” He might just die.

  “You can do it, boy. I want you to fuck yourself with it. With lots of enthusiasm.” Stack touched his arm and left his hand there. It was just the connection he needed.

  “Please don’t let me fall.” He crouched down, careful, slow.

  “I would never let you fall, baby. You know that.”

  The tip touched his hole, and he eased himself down. It was huge, spreading him wider than even Stack did. His eyes went wide, and he gasped as he took more in.

  “Good boy,” Stack muttered. “More.”

  “I am. I will. It’s big, Master.” His thighs pushed him upright, the motion instinctive.

  “Ease into it. Before we’re done, you’re going to be riding hard and fast. Soaring.” Stack’s deep voice soothed him.

  He went down again, took the cock in once more, going a wee bit deeper this time. Christ, the thing was huge.

  Stack knelt next to him, that hand still on his arm. “That’s it, boy. You can do it. Take what you need. Show me how much you love it.”

  “Yes, Master.” He grabbed hold of Stack’s arms, supporting himself.

  “Good boy,” murmured Stack, clearly pleased by his actions. He loved that praise, the way it poured down over him.

  “You deserve a reward. Tide, give his hole a few little swats as he comes up off the dildo.”

  “Hold him open for me, Stack.”

  Oh, cheating.

  Stack leaned over him, hands sliding slowly down his back to grab his asscheeks. Once Stack had them, he spread them, opening him to the whip. Stack helped him come back up, exposing even more of his hole to Tide.

  The single blow was sharp, perfect, making him whimper.

  “Look at you—starting to glimmer. You’ll be glowing in no time, I know it.”

  He wanted to. Wanted to be beautiful to Stack.

  “Keep moving, boy. I want to see you really ride.”

  “Yes, Master.” He was. He was trying.

  With Stack’s encouragement, he rose up and came down again, still not all the way—the dildo truly was huge. He rose and fell once more, and then again, taking a little more each time.

  Robin moaned softly, eyes burning in his head.

  Stack said something, but he had no idea what. He only knew that Stack was there with him, was making him do this amazing thing.

  When the next hit came to his hole, it wasn’t a surprise—it was what he needed.

  He found a rhythm, cock and fingers, whip and stroke, and all the while Stack held him. Everything else faded away. Everything. He hadn’t felt this lost inside what they were doing in forever.

  “Who is the master, Robin?”

  He stared at Stack, eyes rolled back in his head. He was Stack’s.

  Tide whipped his hole again, and Stack helped him move so he was riding the huge dildo faster.

  “Who is the master here?” Stack asked again.

  “You. You. You are.”

  “That’s right, boy.” Stack kissed him, and it was bumpy and messy, not at all easy to do with him fucking himself on the world’s biggest plug, but they did it.

  Stack changed his grip, holding him around his waist now, fingers digging in as Stack kept him moving. He felt amazing, felt like he was beginning to fly and that he could soar far into the sky like this, as long as Stack stayed right there with him.

  He began to cry out, over and over, his entire body starting to burn.

  “So beautiful. So amazing. Who is your master, boy? Come on, who is your master? Tell me!”

  “You! Master! Master Stack! Please!” He began to scream, over and over.

  “That’s it, boy! You’re glowing. Tell me you’re there—tell me nothing else exists.”

  He sobbed, nodding furiously, tears streaking his face. Anything.

  Stack’s hand wrapped around his cock, warm, large. Almost more than he could bear. “Keep riding,” Stack ordered.

  He did as Stack asked, and his cock pushed through the tunnel of Stack’s hand as he fucked himself on the dildo.

  “Work his hole, Tide. Keep him moving.”

  The sharp hits from the crop only served to warm him deeper inside and keep him bouncing. He didn’t know how he found the strength, but it didn’t matter. He’d heard the pride in Stack’s voice.

  “Who is your master, Robin?” Stack asked yet again.

  “You. You are. Please. Master, please.”

  Stack kissed him, mouth firm, demanding his response. Then Stack whispered against his lips. “Soar for me, my love.”

  The world dissolved, becoming nothing but pleasure and heat and the feeling of Stack’s hands on his body.

  Stack kept him there, soaring and free for he didn’t know how long. It didn’t matter, because he was there, right where Stack wanted him to be.

  Chapter Twenty

  STACK THANKED Tide as he picked his boy up and headed back to the showers. He knew that Tide understood this part of a scene was for him and Robin alone. He cradled Robin against his chest, letting his boy know how proud he was, how pleased.

  “You did so well, Robin. You soared for me. You found your happy place again, and that satisfies me deep inside.”

  Robin’s response was a simple, soft moan.

  That made him smile because his boy was deep in his subspace still. Tomorrow Robin would be high, excited and easy in his skin. Right now he was just melted.

  Stack turned on a shower and stepped into it, letting the hot water flow over them both. Robin’s bare skin was baby soft, so smooth and lovely under Stack’s hands that he couldn’t stop touching. Head, face, the skin around Robin’s cock and balls. He hummed, nuzzling into Robin’s neck as he stroked.

  Robin held on to him, fingers loose and open around his hips.

  “Love you,” he whispered, moving to rain kisses over Robin’s face. “My beautiful boy. So proud of you.”

  “Master.” Robin blinked up at him, slowly.

  “That’s right.” He didn’t think Robin would forget that again, not deep down and not for a very long time.

  As soon as it happened, he’d remind his boy happily. For both of them.

  Tide popped his head around the stall. “You guys need anything?”

  “We’re good, thanks.”

  “Cool. I’m off to meet Lance.” Then Tide disappeared, leaving them alone again.

  “How’s your hole feeling?” Stack slid his hand down to Robin’s crack.

  “Stretched.” Robin whimpered softly, moaned for him.

  “When we’re out of the shower, I’ll put some oil on it.” He did enjoy aftercare. Almost as much as the scenes that needed it. “I can make sure you’re well touched.”

  “Am. Swear.”

  “You happy, Robin?” In the end, that was their ultimate goal.

  “Better than. Melted, Master.”

  “Awesome.” He was feeling a little melted himself. Wrung out in the best way.

  He stole one kiss after another, humming at the flavor in Robin’s mouth. He grabbed the soap they’d used earlier and slowly made sure that he touched his boy everywhere. He didn’t miss an inch of skin.

  Then he eased Robin into towels, wrapping him up and cradling him. Grabbing the pot of oil he kept here at the gym, he carried Robin to the beds, pleased that no
one was using them at this time of day. He laid Robin down like the precious bundle his boy was.

  “Spread for me, boy.”

  Robin didn’t even hesitate. Stack dipped his finger in the oil and gently stroked along Robin’s crack, lingering at his swollen hole. Robin moaned, deep in his chest, the tiny hole fluttering around Stack’s finger.

  “Easy, boy.” He got more oil on his finger and pushed it in a little, getting slick on the inside of Robin’s hole. He didn’t want it becoming sore after all that rubbing. He stroked the ring of muscles, petting gently.

  Robin hummed for him but didn’t buck or squeeze his finger at all. He was clearly still melted. Perfect.

  That was his boy.

  Stack nudged the little gland, and that barely got him a moan. Satisfied, he finished oiling, then climbed in with Robin, coiling around him. Robin sighed and curled into him, snores coming before Stack even fully relaxed.

  Stack took a deep breath and let his own eyes close. It had been a good day. A successful day. A day to bring them closer together.

  Maybe a day to heal some of the things that had been broken between them.

  “I love you, Robin.”

  His boy murmured and pressed closer. Yeah, Robin loved him too.

  Blessedly, they’d found each other once more, and Stack was never going to let his boy go again. No matter what life threw at them.

  Exclusive Excerpt

  An Iron Eagle Gym Novel

  When one of their own is threatened, the men of the Iron Eagle Gym will stand together and prove they are stronger as a family.

  Stuntman Barclay Drambor suspects his fall from a roof was no accident. He believes his abusive ex was responsible, but he can’t prove it. Fortunately, a year has gone by with no word from Duncan, letting Barclay move on with his life—and that means dealing with the aftermath of his injuries. He finds personal trainer Reece “Rec” Gordon through a member of the gym, and it’s not long before their workouts together become much more intimate. Rec is gentle and goes out of his way to make Barclay comfortable, and in no time there’s talk of moving in together….

  But just as Barclay is healing and finding a place to belong, Duncan returns to destroy his happiness. Though Duncan will learn he’s messing with the wrong group of men, in the end, Barclay must face him. Will Rec’s love and the friendship of the others at the gym give him the confidence to stand up for himself?

  Coming Soon to

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Chapter One

  BARCLAY WHEELED up to the doors of the Iron Eagle gym for his PT appointment and tried not to sigh.

  He could do this. He so could. This was him. Doing it.

  Blah.

  At least they had wheelchair access and the doors into the gym itself from the lobby were good and wide.

  A young man with long dark hair and a striking face was mopping the floor. “Oh! Careful. The floor is damp. Stay left and you should be okay.”

  “Thanks. I have an appointment with a Reece?”

  “I’ll tell the front desk.” The man went over to the desk. There were two guys, one quite young, behind it, and a tall, stacked guy standing in front of it. That was who looked over, then smiled and waved and came toward him.

  You can do this. You got this. This is how you heal.

  As the man approached, Barclay could see that he wasn’t quite as musclebound as he’d first thought. They were great muscles, though. Which you wanted in a personal trainer, right?

  This guy had curly brown hair and a bright smile that lit up his face. He moved well too, limbs loose and easy. Barclay imagined the man would do well at parkour; he walked like he had great body control.

  “Hey there. You must be Barclay Drambor.”

  “I am. Hey. Nice to meet you!” He raised one hand in greeting.

  “Reece Gordon. But you can call me Rec. You’re several minutes early for your appointment. I like that. Shows that you’re serious.” Rec stood like he felt easy in his skin.

  Barclay used to stand like that. When he was standing, that was. He had always liked to be on the move. Fucking chair made that a little hard right now.

  “I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going.” He hated being late, and if he was headed somewhere new, he’d give himself more time than the GPS claimed he needed.

  “You didn’t have any trouble finding us, though, right?” Rec continued when Barclay shook his head. “Cool. Let’s go into the gym, you can see what the setup is, and then I’ll do an interview with you—find out where you are in your recovery, what your goals are, how much time you have to put into it, that kind of thing.”

  “Fair enough. Lead the way.” He wanted to get started so he could have that done. It would be easier to keep going than it was to have wheeled in here in the first place.

  “You got it.” Rec headed to the double doors across the front lobby, hitting the button to open them automatically. “You should be able to make your way around the first floor without any problems. And there are showers on this floor.”

  “Good deal.” He’d shower at home where he felt safe, but it was good to know it was possible to do it here.

  “So as you can see, we have a large variety of equipment. We’ve got freestanding weights as well as the various machines for muscle targeting, and you’ll be able to work out every part of your body, even from the chair. There are tons of cardio options as well, including the hand bikes, so you’ll be able to get moving there right away too.” Rec sat on one of the equipment benches and opened his iPad. “Okay. Let’s talk turkey.”

  “I’m cleared to work out. I broke three vertebrae, but my spinal cord is intact. I broke my left arm in three places, my right leg, and my hip.” He rattled his injuries off emotionlessly, like they were someone else’s. “I’m ready to get out of the chair.”

  “Damn, that’s impressive. Do you mind if I ask how it happened?” Rec’s eyes were hazel—the kind that were almost light brown but for a few flecks of green in them—and they weren’t judgy or full of pity.

  “I was doing some stunt work and fell off a building. I fell four stories.” Fell. Was pushed. Whatever. Rec didn’t need to know his theory on that.

  “Oh man. I take it you’re lucky to be alive, eh?” Rec shook his head.

  Yeah, except just alive wasn’t anywhere near enough. “That’s the rumor. I intend to be back to work.” Maybe not soon, but someday.

  “Good for you. I’m glad you chose me to help you get there. So what kind of time are you looking at dedicating to this?” Rec pulled up a scheduling app.

  “I’m not working right now, and I have some savings. I’m shooting for Monday, Wednesday, Friday.” He could do cardio in between just wheeling himself around the block a few times. The chair was surprisingly hard work. He could have gotten one of the fancy electric ones, but that would have been significantly more expensive. Besides, the self-propelled variety were a better workout. That’s what he told himself anyway.

  “Sounds good. For a half hour to begin with?” Rec suggested. “We can work up from there, add in some cardio in between as you grow stronger.”

  “Let’s do an hour. I can handle it.” A half hour three times a week was not going to give him the results he wanted.

  “How about we start with a half hour for the first week, and we can talk about turning it into an hour the next week?” Rec countered.

  “Fair enough.” Barclay needed to get back on the horse, start riding.

  “It’s good that you’re eager, and I understand wanting to put in a lot of work, but if you go at it too hard right off the bat, you risk hurting yourself or aching so badly you don’t want to come back.” Rec’s eyes were kind and his voice deep, even.

  He still didn’t see any pity there, but he straightened his spine and raised his chin all the same. “I’m not a pussy. I can take it.”

  “There’s nothing weak about taking things slowly and giving your body time to heal, time to get used to redoing thing
s.” Rec laid a hand on his leg. “Trust me. I’m on your side.”

  “Thanks. I’m just… I’m ready. I need to get back to normal.” He needed this more than anything. It wasn’t only a need to be doing better physically—he needed to be able to move.

  “I hear you. Pushing too hard, too fast can actually set you back, though. Okay? All right. Are you ready to start now? We can run through the machines we’re going to use, see what weights you’re good to start at, that kind of thing.”

  “Yeah. I’m ready. Let’s do this.” He grabbed his weight gloves out of his pocket, telling himself he wasn’t worried.

  “All right. You’re going to do great.” Rec stood and led him over to a machine with a bar currently above his head. “Let’s start with ten pounds and see how you do.” Rec set the pin to ten pounds and brought the bar down for him. “From your shoulder to your waist.”

  This should be eminently doable. Barclay got himself in and out of the chair before he could use his legs at all, right?

  They got up to forty pounds before Rec stopped him and put it back down to twenty-five. “Okay, I know you want to actually start, so ten reps, rest for thirty seconds, then ten more.”

  Barclay worked doggedly, refusing to let up, forcing himself to work, to get stronger.

  They went through a number of machines, focusing on his arms and torso, back and core before they got to the ones where he’d have to move out of the chair.

  He set his brake, his arms shaking hard. “Let me get my crutches.”

  He pulled out the arm crutches and unfolded them.

  “Hold on.” Rec put a hand on his arm and shook his head. “I think you’ve done enough for today. Next time we’ll start with your legs so your arms aren’t tired.”

  “You sure? I can do it.” He totally fucking could, dammit.

  “I’m sure you can. But I’m also sure it’ll be a better experience for you if we wait to do your legs next time. You did great here today. I know you think it wasn’t much, but it was a lot. And we’re already at the half-hour mark.”