Page 23 of A Flash of Golden Fire

He only laughed and continued with his treatment until I moaned in anguish.

“Do you need me to stop?” he asked.

I was making pitiful sounds and my answer should have been yes. But even though my arse was singing with pain, a warm glow had lit me up inside, and I couldn’t say my stop word.

“Never mind, I’m done.” He tossed the crop to the side and started undoing his trousers as my eyes went wide. “With the crop, at least.”

My gaze zeroed in on his scepter of a cock as he pushed his breeches down and took the monster in hand.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

“Do you like the ropes?”

“Yes!”

“All right, then.”

With his trousers still carelessly around his thighs, Captain Martin, with whom I apparently wasn’t on a first-name basis and didn’t mind at all, kneeled on the bed, took some grease from a conveniently placed bowl, and slicked his prick up with a stolid determination. Then he leaned forward, positioned himself, and sank into me like a churn into soft butter.

“Good God,” he breathed as he settled into me.

I whimpered at the incredible sensation of finally getting Captain Martin’s cock into me.

“Aye” was all I could say as he started to move, causing my eyes to roll back in my head. It had been a while since I’d been fucked, to be honest, and I’d been hankering after this man for weeks. Ever since he’d held a gun to my head in the Penny Whistle, of all things. Well, perhaps before that, but the threat of violence upon my person had sealed the deal. Call me mad, for I was.

I wrapped my fingers around the ropes and held on as he began to thrust. He was practised, for certain, and varied his motions between long, slow thrusts and quick, hard ones. By the time he spilled with a low groan, I was a writhing mess of desperate need.

“Captain… Captain,” I panted, for I’d not reached my completion as of yet.

“Mmm,” he grunted, continuing to push into me with a lackadaisical enjoyment and a self-satisfied smile. But those motions weren’t enough to push me over the edge.

“Please!” I begged, squirming beneath him so he could feel the hot brand of my prick against him. “Oh, please!”

The smile that spread over his face as he gazed upon me was everything. There was fondness and affection and pride.

“Watching you beg, Simon… Why, it’s the best thing I’ve seen in a very long time.”

“Now we’re on a first name basis?” I asked, my voice shrill with desperation. I was strung on a tight wire of coiled tension.

“Perhaps. Although I like it when you call me captain, and I’m not particularly fond of my given name.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, then, Captain. Will you…please, please, please…help me?”

He didn’t answer me, only smiled. All I could do was whimper. I was past the point of coherent desire. I needed to finish so badly, and I was terrified that he didn’t even care. Or that he would enjoy frustrating me more than pleasing me.

He pulled out with a sigh, then spent too long playing with my hole and his seed, pushing it in and dragging the spunk out with his fingers.

“I could do this all day, Simon White. Perhaps I will.” He leaned over me to whisper in my ear, still fiddling with my slippery hole. “I’ll plug you to keep all that sweet stuff inside, and you’ll have to go the entire night full of my essence.”

I moaned, heady with the idea.

The captain chuckled and backed off, gaze fixing on where his fingers danced and delved, the filthy bastard.

“Of course, I’d have to clean you out first, with a hose and water. And you wouldn’t be able to eat anything.” He clicked his tongue and sighed. “Oh, what a time we’ll have.”

I made the most pitiful sound and rolled my head from side to side. Couldn’t he see the state of me? Wouldn’t he let me have some satisfaction?