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Lucas practically dragged me off the bed, forcing me to my knees at Vincent’s feet. He shoved my head down, but I pushed back, locking us into a battle of strength that seemed caught firmly in a stalemate.
“I think the boy wants to be hurt,” Vincent said, calling me out with precision.
He was right. I wanted pain. I wanted to be overcome, used, claimed. I wanted to defy everyone and everything around me, but be made helpless regardless.
“Oh, I can help with that.” My defiance made Lucas grin. He nudged his boot between my legs, until he was pressed against my balls.
Hekeptpressing.
“Ah, shit...” The instant feeling of building pain in my abdomen made me double over. But Lucas was merciless, he was almost crushing me. Sucking in my breath, grinding my forehead against the floor, I cried, “You fucking dick, I don’t have to — Ahh —”
If I hadn’t been so distracted by the pain, I would have been embarrassed by the pitiful sound he forced out of me. He tapped the steel toe of his boot against my balls, repeatedly, switching up the intensity every time so I had no clue what to expect. Flinching, whimpering, my body shaking, I said, “Fuck, please, I’ll be good, I’ll shut up —”
“It’s a little too late for promises,” Vincent said. “You know exactly what you’ve earned.”
As Lucas tortured me, Vincent walked away. But he was back within a few moments, and he set something down near my head. It was a suspension bar made of sturdy metal, with four thick locking cuffs dangling from it. As Lucas held me in place, Vince secured my wrists to the bar. I was dragged to my feet, and although I could still lift my arms, it was significantly more difficult with the bar attached to them.
Vincent gripped my face, smiling down at me. That smile of his made my stomach somersault, twisting with anticipation. Lucas held me from behind, his erection nudging against my ass as he murmured, “I’m going to fuckingruinyou.”
“Your turn,” Vincent said. The way he leaned over me made me feel so small; an insignificant mote compared to the size and strength of the men around me. “Since you can’t control your tongue, you’ll be putting it to good use.”
Lucas turned me toward the bed, and I gasped softly. Manson had unchained Jess and now had her upper body resting against his chest. She lay on her back, and he was holding her legs spread.
Shoving me toward the bed, Lucas said, “Get into position. Face in her pussy, ass up.”
“Yes, sir.” It was the first time I’d managed a proper response since they’d come up here, but I was enraptured by the sight of her. As I got into position, burying my face between her legs, she nudged herself against me. Her eyes were wide, watching me as Manson held her.
Closing my mouth over her, I started slowly. Gentle licks, soft sucking; she was already so sensitive and every little touch made her twitch. The bar lay beneath my chest, and I couldn’t touch her with my hands despite how desperately I wanted to.
The paddle tapped my backside. It wasn’t a smack, it didn’t hurt. Vincent was steadying himself, making sure the strike would land where he intended and not somewhere that might injure me. Every inch of my body was tense. I was clenching my muscles so hard that they ached. No matter how many spankings I’d gotten — no matter how often we played with pain — in the moments right before it happened, I was always left frozen with anticipation of how much it would hurt. Jess was a welcome distraction. The taste of her on my tongue —
Smack!
The impact was heavy, the pain sharp and burning. Holy shit, it burned. My head jerked up, my mouth opened and closed several times before I clipped my teeth together.
“What did we tell you, boy?” Vincent said, jovial as ever. “Get your head back down.”
Giving me no other option, Lucas forced my head down again, smacking the back of my skull. Jess shivered as I groaned, bucking her hips upward for more.
Smack!
Shit, shit, shit. The pain made my entire body tingle, and I jerked my head up again. I wiggled my toes, taking a moment to slowly exhale.
“Stubborn, isn’t he?” Lucas said.
“Stubbornly disobedient,” said Manson. “Maybe you’re not hitting him hard enough, Vince.”
The paddle tapped, demanding my attention. “Is that true? Not hard enough for you?”
“Not hard enough, sir,” I said, even though I was filled with regret the second I said it. There were a few beats of silence, punctuated only by Jess’s soft sounds, and I almost blurted out an apology as the quiet dragged on.
Smack!
That one made me cry out. Fucking hell, I was in trouble.
Smack!
The sound of the paddle smacking down again was humiliatingly loud. Exhaling slowly, I managed not to make a sound.
