Instead my iron stirred, restless and wanting, coiling tight in my chest before the thought had even finished forming. An image bloomed in my mind that echoed Pip’s little daydream. My beautiful boy, suspended in mid-air, bound and ready to be fucked. I could see his arms stretched above him, my iron coiled around him, forcing him to pose, naked and on display.
His body would arch in the supple way it did when he was tempting me, and he wouldn’t struggle. He would beg for them, while men circled him and touched him, using him like a sheath for their cocks. They’d give him the fucking he so thoroughly deserved.
And he was right, it would be the ultimate rush of control. I’d determine who could touch him and where and for how long. Every hand on his skin there because I permitted it. Every cock he took would be a gift I had arranged. I would decide whether or not he deserved to be filled with their cum.
I wanted to own every part of him, to orchestrate a pleasure so absolute it would overwrite everything but his need for me.
My iron magic flared. The sconces along the wall hummed faintly. “Did that turn you on?” Pip whispered. “The guards looking at my ass. That turned you on.”
I stopped walking.
Pip stopped with me, stepped closer, and tilted his chin up to study me. Beneath the playfulness, he was trembling.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Spoiling you.”
His eyes widened. “Oh?”
I leaned in close, lowering my voice. “Do you want that? To be bound, forced to take the cocks of those guards? They looked like they wanted to fuck you, and I’m tempted to offer them that opportunity.”
Pip shivered. I could feel the vibration of it through the chain, through the collar. His cheeks turned pink and his chin dipped. “I was just teasing.”
I wrapped a hand around his throat, tilting his chin back up with my thumb, reading the desire in his eyes. “Were you teasing to rile me up? Or because you desperately want me to do these things to you?”
“Why not both?”
I straightened and raised my voice.
“Guards.”
The five soldiers had made it to the end of the corridor but they stopped as one and turned. When they saw who had spoken, the casual confidence of off-duty soldiers collapsed into the rigid alertness of men addressed by a superior.
“Sir,” the tallest one said, bowing. “Is there something you need?”
“You looked at what is mine.”
“Commander,” the lieutenant said, and his voice was steady, which told me he had some backbone. “I meant no disrespect. He is gorgeous.”
Pip made a small, pleased sound beside me.
All eyes were on me as I turned and opened the closest door. It was a sitting room. One of the dozens scattered throughout the palace wing—a fireplace, heavy chairs, a low table, tall windows letting in the afternoon light. A wrought-iron candelabra hung from the ceiling on a thick chain, unlit.
I looked back at the five guards.
“I require volunteers,” I said, my voice cutting through the hall’s silence. “For a personal matter. Those who wish to serve your commander in this, remain. The rest of you are dismissed.”
None of them moved. “A personal matter, sir?” the lieutenant asked.
“My boy would like to be thoroughly fucked. I intend to grant his wish. Tomorrow at this time. Perhaps you could help me find some men to help me?”
“Seriously?” Pip’s eyes widened.
I nodded to the guards, turned and walked down the corridor. Pip jogged to catch up to me.
“You’re really going to do it? My safe word is ketchup.”
“Why do you keep mentioning this ketchup?”
