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I laughed. “Oh, you’re such a little shit. I’m going to break you so hard when we do a real scene.”
I pinched his nipples ruthlessly to get them to peak, and then added the clothespins. He couldn’t contain his squirm and whimper as each clamped down on his sensitive nubs, though he clenched his jaw and didn’t make a sound.
“Now,” I said, pushing a hand into his wet hair again, smoothing it back from his flushed face. “Drink your fucking coffee. And call me Sir.”
Minty’s expression flashed with resistance before he softened slightly. “You want me to drink my coffee, Sir?”
“Yes.” I gestured to the clothespins. “Those stay on until you’ve finished every drop.”
I sat across from him. “And until I’ve finished mine too.”
I took my time, drinking slowly, taking long pauses between each swallow, enjoying the view as the burning pain dug into his chest muscle and spread over his skin. I grinned as his breathing escalated. He flushed all over. Sweat popped out on his forehead.
Still, Minty didn’t speak. He sat there, drinking his coffee, nipples trapped in the clothespin clamps, two more dangling from his earlobes like ugly plastic earrings, and he endured it. The red mark on his cheek diffused out from a handprint and turned into a simple, red shine that made his other cheek look pallid in comparison.
“Feel good?” I asked with a chuckle.
He grunted.
“Answer me.”
“No, Sir. It doesnotfeel good.” Each word was bitten out with a hint of rage.
I smiled and rose. “I think I could use a second cup. You?”
Minty shook his head, a gleam of alarm showing in his eyes. I loved the brightness of it, the hint of desperation. Gorgeous. I was going to love seeing more of that the next time he came around. Which would be soon. Very soon. I looked forward to having him down in my dungeon so I could really take him apart.
“Let me review these STD results,” I said, casually adjusting my cock before I sat back down at the table with a steaming fresh mug. “How recent are they?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“How many guys have you fucked or sucked since these?”
“One.”
I nodded, considering.
Minty went on, “He doesn’t fuck other guys. Just me.”
I lifted a brow. “How do you know?”
He smiled with a snarl that made my gut flutter. “Oh, I know.”
“Girls?” I surmised. “He also fucks girls?”
“Probably.” He shrugged, and the pull on his clamped tits made him gasp. His eyelids fluttered before he met my gaze again. “Yeah, he probably fucks girls.”
“Girls get STDs too, you know, and they can spread them.”
“I can get a new test, Sir, if you want, but—”
“No. It’s fine.”
Not getting another test was a risk I probably shouldn’t have taken, given my HIV status and the possibility of immune compromise, but I’d taken much higher risks in the past. I wasn’t a saint. I never had been. I wasn’t going to pretend to be one now.
“Do you want to see mine?” I asked. “I have a set from a few months ago. I’ve fucked no one since.”
“I don’t care, Sir. It’s not something that worries me.”
