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Joel sat between us while we watched the show. A couple men walked by and asked him how much it hurt to sit after the paddling, and Joel ducked his head. I gave him back the mask and he gladly placed it over his eyes.
The Dom binding both boys, one in the stocks and the other on the cross, then exposing their cocks to the crowd. We watched as he edged them, making them both cry out for mercy. It made my blood boil with need. “Joel, when all those men take turns on you tonight, you’re not allowed to come. Not until we take you home and fuck you.”
“Save the best fer last?”
“Damn right.”
Joel was intense, watching the edging, one boy was stroked, then the other, and the dom would slap their cocks, squeeze their balls when they got too close to their climaxes. The boys were big guys, muscled and very much alike, and I figured the Dom, an older guy of maybe Noah’s age, had a type.
He was enjoying the hell out of his boys, and those watching, that weren’t fucking each other, were clapping and calling for more, calling for spankings, for oral, all kinds of things. The Dom couldn’t be dissuaded. He kept edging his boys, using that for the torture, well, besides the CBT he administered.
I moved my hand under the table, only to find that Damon’s was already there, manipulating Joel’s cock, and I looked over to get a wink. “Beat me to it.”
“You’ll get a turn.”
“Share and share alike, that’s us.”
The Dom on stage edged his boys nicely, but he did allow them to come, one hollering out his thanks to his Dom, begging to please him, and the other stayed silent, whimpers as loud as he got.
Then it was time. Damon hopped up and headed for the stage, grabbing the mic and waving to everyone. “It’s time for the raffle!”
Damon had had the bartender cut up some copies of the numbers and Damon was brought one fishbowl with the second prize tickets.
The bartender held the bowl as Damon stuck his hand in it, and he pulled one out, reading the numbers over the mic. “98012!”
Brian Lauder raised his hand, laughing. “That’s me!”
“Very nice,” Damon called. “The doctor is in!”
Brian got up in all his leather lusciousness and bowed. “Thanks! Do my boys get free memberships too?”
I called, “Fat chance! Pay up, Doc!”
He clapped and sat back down, kissing each of his boys.
Then Damon started pulling out numbers for the gangbang, and Joel started giggling, covering his face with both hands despite having the mask.
After eight numbers were called, Joel looked to me and whispered, scared, “Eight?”
“How many did you think?”
“I dunno! Four!”
“Four does not a gangbang make. If you want to safeword, do it, baby, and we’ll go home.”
“No! I’ll do it! Just…are y’all gonna be there?”
I held his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Why do you think we made sure we had security here besides us? We want to have fun with our boy too. Let’s get up to the private room we reserved for this, and the guys can line up outside the door.”
“Eight,” he whispered again. “I’m gonna be walkin’ funny for a few days.”
“You sure will.”
Chapter Thirty
I can’t even explain exactly how hot it was to set Joel on the bed in that private room and let men line up to service his sweet ass.
He was in heaven, though talking to any of them was out of the question. We’d tied his arms wide to the metal slats in the headboard, but let his legs be free, and they were lifted, bent, and manhandled every which way from all the men that won the big prize.
