“I refuse to leave you so help me. Lean back.” No one was left to die on his watch.
He tried twice more, meeting the same fate before eyeing what he knew could be used as leverage. Scampering to grab the heavy wedge, he shoved the narrow end under the beam and glared down at Brian. “When I lift this you have to get yourself out. You got it?”
“Yeah. Got it.”
Huffing, Troy braced himself, planting his feet wide apart, and wiped his hands on his uniform before taking a deep breath. By the rumbling beneath his feet, he knew there was little time left. Very slowly he used his upper body strength and attempted to lift. Nothing happened.
“Fuck! Fuck!”
“Just leave me!” Brain wailed.
“God damn it! Shut the fuck up. Do you hear me?” Fueled by anger and pride in his fire department, he sucked in his breath and tried again, anguish tearing through his body. “I can do this. I will, Goddamn it!” Using the last of his strength, he heard another collapse behind him and closed his eyes, wrenching the heated steel, finally feeling some movement. His eyes snapping open, he stared down and grunted. “Get out now. Go. Go. Go!”
Scuttling backwards, Brian moaned and grabbed his leg. “I’m out!”
In the next several seconds, Troy tried to drop the heavy steel gently, but the weight was too much. The sound of the hard thud reminded him they had little time. “Come on.” He took two long strides and gathered his buddy in his arms, dragging Brian toward the window, praying to some God he was unsure of. Just as he made it to the ledge, all hell seemed to break loose and the sound of complete destruction and heated smoke enveloped both of them, tottering their bodies forward.
There was no chance for second-guessing his decision. Inhaling and gripping Brian tightly, he took a leap of faith.
“I still can’t believe what the hell you did today. Jesus H. Fucking Christ you area amazing.”
Eyeing the man who had become his friend, his lover and now his Master, Troy grinned as he grabbed the cold beer from Michael Tyler’s hand and shrugged. “Just business.”
“Your just business is everybody else’s epic movie. My God.” Easing into the overstuffed leather chair, Michael took a long pull of beer, his eyes never leaving Troy. Swirling the liquid, he exhaled slowly and then licked his lips. The exaggerated sound floated into the living room.
The effect alone was enough to make Troy shiver with desire and a growing apprehension. The man was a tough Master, requiring him to be completely obedient with his unabashed hungers. “True enough I guess.” He sipped his beer and glanced toward the television. The female reporter loved to follow him from scene to scene, reporting on his prowess and his hero like status. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes and hated hiding behind a mask.
“You’re a hero.”
“I hate that term and you know it!” Troy snapped and then immediately regretted his harsh tone. Stealing a glance, he could tell the larger man was trying to figure out exactly how to handle him tonight, how to discipline him. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
Michael said nothing for several minutes, simply sat drinking his beer and watching the continuing saga of the breaking news story on the fire.
His heart racing, he hated the quiet moments because he knew what was coming.
Polishing off his beer, he set the bottle down on the coffee table gingerly, as if any sound would be too disruptive. They’d been together for six months now and while Troy wanted to be owned, trained and fucked as his Master saw fit, there were times the darkness still troubled him. When he heard the hard thud of his Master’s beer bottle hitting the dense wood of the table, he knew the night was just beginning.
“Go to the room and wait. Undress and have my whip ready.” Michael slowly stood and moved into the kitchen. “And you know what to do with the chain.”
Yes, he knew all too well. As soon as the man was out of sight Troy realized he’d been holding his breath. Slowly rising to his feet, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and took one last gaze at the pictures of the ugly fire. At least no one had lost their life.
As he moved into their playroom, he turned on the light and realized his legs were quaking. He quickly removed his clothes and when he was naked, he walked toward the cabinet, opening the doors slowly. Gazing at the amazing grouping of toys, implements of discipline and methods of securing him to whatever apparatus his Master so desired, he bit his lower lip and allowed his hand to travel down to his throbbing cock. God, the prowess of the man turned him the hell on. There was no denying the way he felt.
But he wasn’t allowed to pleasure himself or cum without being directed. He tugged out his Master’s favorite whip and studied the long leather strands. There was no doubt he was going to be taken brutally tonight, disciplined for his rather ridiculous indiscretions. Sighing, he placed the whip on the small table need the steel bench, another of Sir Michael’s favorites. Troy grabbed the long silver chain and glanced down at the cock ring encasing his already throbbing shaft.
Shaking his head, he attached two solid clamps to his nipple rings, the snap ringing in his ears. Sliding his hand under his cock, he attached the end of the chain and held out the long strand, pulling on his already aching shaft and nipples. A flash of pain washed through him.
Satisfied he’d performed his tasks well enough, he moved toward the small rug, the only comfort allowed his bruised knees.
Troy knelt slowly and lowered his head in reverence. Dear God he hated waiting but his lack of patience bothered his Master and was one of his continued training cycles. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on controlling his breathing.
“Very good. You follow orders well.” Sir Michael appeared, his booming voice reverberating in the darkened room. “You may lift your head and watch.”
Following orders, Troy lifted his head and smiled. His Master looked damn good in tight leather pants and nothing else, his chocolate skin shimmering in the glow of the torch lighting.
“Master.”
“Yes. Tonight I will go easy on you.” Inching forward, Sir Michael wrapped his hand around the silver chain, lifting it up as he smiled, his eyes twinkling. “I love having you cockled.”
He tugged on the chain as he tilted his head.
Instantly a flash of anguish washed together with a wave or pure rapture and for several seconds Troy simply indulged in the intense sensations of bliss. “Master.”
“Yes. I am your Master.” Yanking the chain this time, he held it out, pulling on Troy’s cock and swollen nipples. “Yyyeeeesss…”
Every part of his body on fire, he shivered as he tossed his head back, electric jolts racing down his spine.
Sir Michael exhaled slowly and reached for the whip, chuckling darkly. “I think tonight you’re going to suck my cock.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Wrapping his hand around the tightly bound handle, Sir Michael held the leather whip into the light for several seconds before twisting and snapping his wrist, the ends of the leather strand slapping hard onto the cool, tile floor. “Now I begin your discipline.”
Crack!
Shuddering from the powerful strike against his back and buttocks, Troy kept his eyes closed, determined to be the submissive his Master needed.
Whoosh! Slap!
Troy didn’t move a muscle, having learned how to control his involuntary jerks weeks before.
Crack! Slap! Pop!
“Very good. You are indeed pleasing me tonight.” Sir Michael exhaled slowly before issuing another series of harsh whips.
A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of Troy’s face and he had to fight not to wipe the bead away. Every part of his body ached, from the torture endured in the rescue and from the stinging sensations of the whip, but he continued to maintain his composure. Several seconds ticked by before he finally heard the sound of his Master dropping the whip onto the steel table, a tinkle of metal hitting metal floating into the air.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
Shiv
ering, Troy did as requested and remained silent.
“Good. I want you bound tonight.” Walking around him, Sir Michael snapped handcuffs on his wrists and then patted Troy’s head. “Good.”
Again, Troy waited as patiently as he could while his Master remained silent. As he wiggled, the sharp edges of the metal dug into his skin and he winced.
“Lift your head.”
Obeying immediately, the sight of his Master’s thick, black cock throbbing just inches in front of his face forced him to lick his lips.
“You want my dick buried inside your ass?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then suck me.” Slapping the tip of his cock across Troy’s mouth, Sir Michael wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and inhaled deeply. “Open your mouth wide.”
Tipping his head back, he opened his mouth and kept his eyes on his Master. The moment his shaft was thrust inside, Troy shuddered and clamped down around the tight invasion. Nothing had ever felt so damn good in his lift. Swirling his tongue, he sucked hard, just the way Sir Michael liked, and sat back on his haunches.
He brushed his fingers through Troy’s hair, jerking his head back as he began fucking his sub’s mouth, driving in and out in deep plunges.
Troy could see how much he was pleasing him by the look of rapture cresting his face.
He loved sucking his Master as much as he loved being fucked. The contract between them was almost perfect and he could never see himself with another man.
“Damn hot mouth. That’s it. Suck me. You belong to me and will forever. Do you hear me? Forever.”
As the incredible act continued, Troy finally relaxed, enjoying his place -- and hungry for so much more. Finally he’d found his place and his rightful owner. This was ecstasy.
The End
Matt, Josh and Steve
By Abby Hayes
Matt sat back down on a recliner with one leg hanging over the arm of the chair. Toying with the flogger, having laid his paddle at his feet, he felt in charge and ready to flog the asses being slowly revealed to him.
His lover of three years, Josh, and Josh’s new friend, Steve, had only gotten their shirts off before he sat straight up and stopped them.
“Wait! Josh and Steve, stop there. Get up on the couch,” he felt his jaw clench as he let his thoughts go. “But don’t bend over. I want you on your knees, hands behind your heads, backs erect.”
Josh gave him a sly smile as Steve put his hands quickly where Matt had demanded they go.
“What? A guy can’t change his mind?”
No one responded.
He walked around the couch slowly at first. Second trip around he could contain his hands no longer, and got right to work. Josh with his chiseled muscles, thick, stocky, rugged, as always posed as a masterpiece of the male anatomy. He fingered a nipple, gave it a little twist.
Not thinking things through, going with his whims, he kissed the cheek that had grimaced a second ago. Matt’s fingers he ran lightly down Josh’s back and over his denim covered ass. Then he let his hand slip between his thighs to give his cock, already hard to some degree, a little squeeze.
“Nice!” Matt hissed. Standing to his lover’s side now, right behind Steve, the newcomer, he rubbed Josh’s back again, lining up the flogger. It hit against the denim and made a nice sound as it cut the air and then swiped across the material. Matt started with Josh, because in jeans Matt knew Josh’s ass could take a lot. He needed to start out hard, let loose some of what had built inside him over the last few rough days. She felt like a rope was tied through his middle, from his feet to his heart to his brain, and it had become twisted so tight that nothing could unwind him. That is, except this. Each time he swung the rope loosened a bit, unraveled some.
Josh grunted a few times, his signal to Matt that he was getting to the point of what he could take.
When Matt stepped back a moment, laid the flogger beside him, Josh said, “Thank You, Sir.” Matt loved the way Josh’s voice sounded strained, with both pleasure and pain. Loved!
There is that damn word again. So? Fuck yeah I love getting him excited, making that thick dick of his hard. What of it?
When Matt stepped around to say you’re welcome though, Josh sported a huge shit-eating grin.
“Was going to say you’re welcome, but now I just want to wipe that grin off your face, I think,” he practically spit, completely off-balance, unsure why the rope had tightened up again.
He rocked his head from side to side, hearing his neck crack. The names Jekyll and Hyde came to mind. Get a grip. That’s an order! Is this about work, or about the way you feel? Fuck feelings!
“Do your worst, Sir. Please.” Josh’s attempt at forcing his facial muscles to stop the grin, Matt found pathetic. But again, the tight cord inside Matt loosened a touch. He pushed back his shoulders, reached out and undid Josh’s jeans. Commando as usual, his cock popped out. To touch it now would give him pleasure, so Matt decided to withhold his urge to grab it, take it in his mouth and maybe even bite the tempting looking piece of meat.
Matt stepped behind them both again, admired the two bodies a second, then yanked Josh’s jeans down. They bunched up around his thighs, but bared his rock hard ass, nice full globes a beautiful shade of red, which were about to become redder. He’d had his breather.
Matt grabbed the leather paddle, quick to bring it against Josh’s now bare ass. Each smack of leather against skin made Matt’s skin crawl with lust. Josh’s ass cheeks clenched and relaxed with each hit. Beyond hot. Not able to help himself, Matt bent down and bit Josh, the red skin warm against his lips. Josh let out a yelp of surprise with a touch of pain before a groan formed deep in his lover’s chest.
Josh turned to Matt. His lover’s his face scrunched up, showed he was ready to play a little whoop ass on him, some fun retribution. They’d done it before, quickly switched roles. Had the situation been different, he would have readily flipped the switch tonight too, he knew, mood he was in, up and down and all over the place, and all.
“Thank You, Sir,” Josh spoke this time through clenched teeth. The dark look behind his eyes, one sexy, one devious, made that invisible cord that threaded through him almost unravel.
Josh wanted him. Matt could be honest enough with himself to know that he wanted that.
“You’re welcome,” Matt forced his hiss this time. “I can tell by your nicely formed erection, so hard, so red, the veins bulging…” He let the paddle glide over the top of his hard-on, watched his red ass clench then. “Hmmm, I can see that you liked every minute of it. I’m all warmed up now and onto Steve. Stay erect, and I mean your cock and your back. I know you like to watch.”
With abrupt movements, Matt handed the paddle to Steve, kicked off his jeans, bent over to grab his ankles, and waited for the first hit as he looked directly at Josh.
The End
Extreme Sex Magick
By Kiki Howell
They’d chosen a bit of a different, more extreme spell, this time around. The old grimoire Sara had recently found had claimed the process would take them to the thresholds of sexual magic. The methods used, like sensory deprivation and intense sensation play, were intended to free oneself, to move energy, to build trust and to achieve altered states of consciousness where magic could occur.
The spell would, in the end, use orgasm as a magical catalyst for divination and manifestation. Their contract stated not only what could be done tonight, but what their intentions for the magick were.
First, as bottom, because she preferred the position, Sara disrobed and allowed David to be tie her to a mattress he’d placed in the center of the room. The bindings ran underneath it, secured her hands and wrists, left her spread eagle on her back in the symbolic form of the pentagram.
From her vantage point, she watched him light the pink candles they’d chosen earlier to represent white for truth and red for love. The several shades of blue candles that had been placed around the room for tranquility and changeabili
ty, he lit next. These anointed candles brought the strong scent of amber to harmonize and balance their energy. Vervain had been scattered around the mattress to aid them in their visionary work.
David returned to the foot of the bed and disrobed himself seconds before he tied a scarf over her eyes.
“Trust in me, Sara,” he whispered in her ear. “Relax and let me lead us through this spell.”
She nodded.
At first, the ritual flogging mimicked a massage. The flogger they'd chosen, one used in tantric sex, mimicked a cat o’ nine tails, but had been made with several silk strips with knots at the end, intended to create a more delicate sting. He caressed her as he dragged the toy along each part of her body. Sara let her mind go, gave into the sensations as the grimoire had instructed her too. Once her skin tingled, he then kissed each section as she imagined his large form, strong, bowed over her.
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