Page 32 of On Your Knees

I step up behind him, but I don’t touch him. “Can I torture you?”

“Wha-what will you do?”

“I’ll break you. Then remake you. You won’t know yourself at the end. Or maybe… you’ll know yourself for the first time.”

“Are you going to…”

“To what?” When Levi doesn’t answer, I guess, “Hurt you?” When there’s still no reply, I guess again, “Fuck you?”

He nods, but that’s not good enough.

I tell him, “Ask the full question, and I’ll answer.”

His chest starts rising and falling visibly, and his voice comes out soft and breathless. “Are you going to fuck me?”

“Yes,” I whisper in his ear as I slide a hand around his torso, letting my fingers rest on his waistband. “But this won’t be sex like most people’s first time. I won’t fumble all over you. I won’t ask you if you like it. I won’t ask you if you want to stop. Your only decision is whether to get in that chair. All other decisions will be mine. I will take full possession of your body.”

I slide my fingers behind his waistband and lightly rub his stiff cock through the fabric of his underwear. Levi rocks on his feet, falling back against me. He’s trembling. If there’s any fear in it, he’s enjoying it.

I squeeze my eyes shut at the pressure of his plump ass against my caged cock. The bars press into my balls. Soon, I’ll take this thing off. This is Levi’s last chance to run.

A chill slithers through me. What I’m doing will have consequences, for Levi and for me, but I can’t see them. I don’t want to.

I pop the button of his jeans. I tug down his zipper. He makes a soft little sound. He shivers and presses forward against my hand. I rub my palm along the stiff ridge in his briefs.

He lets me undress him. It’s easy now. He’s lost the shame of his nakedness. He’s become, in a way, even more innocent.

But that’s about to end.

When he’s naked, I make him kneel on the floor, letting him sit back on his heels. I need to draw his innocence one more time before I shatter it.

Crouching in front of him, I cup his balls and pull them up. He rocks toward me. His eyes are fogged with lust, but he’s focused on me, focused enough to obey when I order, “Knees together.”

I settle his balls against his thighs, causing a breath to huff out of him. I don’t touch his cock. I just leave it jutting upward. I set his hands on his thighs near his cock but not touching it. Then I grab my sketchbook and sit on the floor.

I work fast, making several sketches, some of form, some of key details: eyes, lips, fingers, cock. They’re just studies. I see this being a painting, and my mind is already filling in the background, transforming the chair into a tree.

Temptation, I would call it.

Levi does well at first. He’s in a daze. But after a while he starts to sway. His hands begin to twitch. He likes to be seen, but he needs to be touched. Even so, he’s doing better than yesterday. Now, he knows I’ll make him come. What he doesn’t know is what’s going to happen along the way.

I set the sketchbook aside and get up. Levi’s head tilts back at my approach. His lips part.

When I offer him my hand, he takes it at once and rises to his feet, swaying like he’s been drugged. I back him up to the chair.

I take his jaw in my hand and tell him, “You will know things that you have never known before.”

He stares at me, unblinking, beguiled.

I help him into the chair with its jointed arm and leg rests. I let him watch as I bind his limbs. Then a strap goes around his chest, another around his neck. I raise the chair and tilt it back. It’s not until I start ratcheting his legs open that his eyes fly wide. Alerted, he tracks my movement as I turn to the tray.

I pick up the red blindfold. I don’t want him watching everything I do, anticipating, trying to understand what’s coming. It would be a waste of this one perfect opportunity to show him the full, pure truth of his body.

I step between his spread legs. His blue eyes are locked on me. He’s scared now, and he makes a startled sound, jerking in the restraints as I slide the blindfold over his eyes. I don’t mean to do it, but I lean down and press my lips to his. He goes still.

It’s not exactly a kiss. That’s not something I do. But I breathe his breath, and he breathes mine. Then I take his lower lip between my teeth. I tug and let go. I step back.

I want to draw him like: his body forced open, his fingers and toes curled with tension, his cock lying stiff against his contracting stomach. But the time to draw is past.