Page 31 of There’s a Way (Mythic Beast #2)

Will

I knew Davy had run away to please me, to make the evening more fun for me, but it was still important I show I was in total control.

My wooden pony has all kinds of toppers to go on the board, and today I chose one with a softly angled point — thin enough it would get between his balls, but rounded so there wouldn’t be any true damage so long as he didn’t spend too much time on it.

I stood him up under the winch, looped his wrists over the hook, and then lifted it until he was on tiptoe.

I removed the clamp around his balls and slid the pony between his legs, which spread them, and then finally lifted the apparatus to the predetermined mark, which put his weight on the pony.

He lifted himself with his arms to hold himself off it, and I moved a chair in front of the pony so I could sit and watch the process.

“When you’re ready to put your head and wrists on the pillory so I can lock you in, let me know.”

Three and a half minutes later, “I’m sorry, Sire. I’ll position myself for the pillory. Please let me off this contraption!”

“Not quite yet, but it’s good to know we understand each other a little better.”

It took eleven minutes for him to finally allow his full weight to rest on the pony, his arms sagging above him, and I waited another ninety seconds before I walked to him and lowered the pony before pulling it from between his legs.

I put my arm around him before using my remote to lower the winch. I released the carabiner between his wrists while my boy leaned heavily on me.

“Walk to the pillory and settle into it as ye promised, lad.”

He did so, and I brought the piece down that would lock all three appendages in place — both wrists and his neck.

His cock had gone soft on the pony, and normally I don’t care much whether he’s hard or soft when I play with him, but for this kind of scene I often break my own rules, so I grabbed him and jacked his cock a dozen or so times until he was well on the way to hard.

“You fucked the girl you’re to marry yet, lad?”

“No, Sire! Not until we’re married!”

“Odds are, if I allow ye to return when I’m done playin’ with ye, she’ll be married to someone else by then.”

“No, Sire! She loves me, and I love her!”

“So, ye’re a virgin all around. The cook has a girl he keeps in his cabin. I might barter with him so we can watch you fuck her in a few weeks’ time. How many licks of the strap did we decide you were getting?”

“Nine, Sire.”

“Exactly right. Let’s see how you hold up to me leather. What does your da use, young lad?”

He sighed. “The strap or the cane, Sire.”

“Never a horsewhip?”

“No, Sire.”

I gave him all nine stripes from my belt one after another without a break, and when I finished, I stepped forward and rammed my already lubed cock into his ass.

I’m pretty sure the screams were real and not faked, and I grabbed the metal handholds on the footboard and fucked my boy as hard and fast as I could manage.

After a while, I slowed a little and asked, “Can you come with a cock up your arse, lad?”

“I don’t know, Sire! Maybe!”

“Ye’ll lick the floor if you do. Just make sure it hits a hard surface you can clean with your tongue. You won’t like what happens if you soil me bed linens.”

I went slow about thirty seconds to make sure I’d caught my breath, and then hammered him hard and fast, holding his hips this time to make sure I didn’t press his throat into the bed. He could use his arms to push back, and he had at first, but they were clearly getting tired.

I aimed my cock to make sure I hit his prostate with every entry, and I didn’t slow even a tiny bit when I felt him coming.

If I managed it right, he’d stay hard after he came, and I could punish him when he beat off and couldn’t get off again after I finished — which took me about another ten minutes, and my boy was rock hard when I released him before staggering back to my chair to sit.

“All fours, lad. Clean the floor.”

He dropped right down and went to cleaning it with his tongue, and I watched without comment. Would he walk to the cross, click his own ankles in, and then put his hands in position for me to restrain? I was betting he would, but only one way to find out.

* * * *

Davy

I was tempted to refuse to lock my own ankles in, but the wooden pony was still under the winch and no way in hell was I going to risk having to get back on it.

Master hadn’t left me on terribly long — I could walk without pain, after all — but it’s a terrifying contraption.

I wanted to make this fun for him, but not enough to risk having to ride the pony again.

So I leaned forward and locked my ankles in, and then leaned back and lifted my hands so they were in place for him to lock my wrists in. He used carabiners this time, so I guess he was only doing the period thing when it suited him. He’d also raised and lowered the winch with the remote, earlier.

Master flogged my dick with the cruel plastic flogger once he had me on the cross, but I don’t actually mind that, and kind of enjoy it sometimes, but I still screamed and carried on as if it was terrible.

Of course, my dick stayed hard and possibly grew even harder while he flogged it, so it was obvious I didn’t hate it.

And then he released my right arm and walked away from me. “Jack yourself off, lad.”

He settled the chair about eight feet in front of me and glanced at the clock on the wall, which is often hidden, but wasn’t today.

“If you don’t make another mess on the floor in eight minutes, ye’ll wear a little device I like to call a ball crusher.”

I hate the ball crusher. It’s literally two pieces of plexiglass in a frame, with a screw-thingy he can tighten to force the two pieces closer and closer together, crushing my balls between the plexiglass so he can see exactly what they look like, all smooshed and tortured.

But I’d had two orgasms and wasn’t at all certain I could have a third so soon after the second. Most nights, I’m lucky if I’m allowed a single orgasm at the end. Master occasionally likes to force me to have orgasm after orgasm until I can’t possibly have another, but not often.

So I jacked myself hard and fast, and closed my eyes and thought of the last time Micca was with us, when I’d had to fuck Micca’s pussy while Master fucked my ass, and I’d had clamps on my nipples while wearing a horse bit to hold my mouth open and my tongue down, with the threat that if I came without permission, Master would put me on the fucking machine for three hours while they went out to eat together. Without me.

But then Micca had ran her hands up and down my sides, all around the clamps, and then held my cheeks open while Master fucked my ass harder than I could ever remember, pegging my prostate with every stroke, and my balls had let loose despite the fact I did my best to hold onto the orgasm.

They’d finished with me and then put me on a fucking station with the fucking machine plumbing my ass nonstop, a fat fucking dildo on it that spread me wider than I’m used to, and then they’d left me.

The true torture was that I wasn’t tied, and there was an emergency button I could easily reach, and it would release me from the fucking station and turn the fucking machine off at the same time.

When you turn the machine off, it pulls the dick back as far as possible, which would remove it from my ass.

One button and it would stop, but I was only supposed to do that in an emergency.

I had no idea what Master would do if I did so merely because my asshole was raw and I didn’t want to be fucked any longer, but I hadn’t wanted to find out.

And it was the memory of that scene from a week earlier that flipped the switch inside me so I could come.

When I looked at the clock, I saw I’d only had another minute and a half, and I looked at Master when he started a slow clap, but then looked at the floor as if in humiliation.

If we hadn’t been pretending to be a pirate and his recently nabbed boy, I’d have given him a smile.

“The light over the door blinked while you were jacking off, which means I need to check in with security.” He stood and walked towards the door. “Get yourself the rest of the way off the cross. Looks like the scene’s over.”

He turned before he opened the door. “Security issue or not, you’d have gone into a ball crusher at the first opportunity if you hadn’t been able to orgasm. Might not’ve happened until tomorrow if we couldn’t manage it tonight, but it would’ve transpired.”

“Of course, Master.”

It took a little finagling to reach up and over to get my left arm free, but then it was a piece of cake to free my ankles.

I wasn’t too worried about the light blinking. For something big, they’d have beat on the door. The light blinking just meant to contact them when it was a good time to do so.

When no one was right outside the door, Master checked his texts first and then made a phone call, and Panda’s voice came through the speakerphone after the first ring.

“My bosses should be here with your third in about twelve minutes.”

“Earlier than expected, but that’s fine. Maybe you can talk to them a few minutes? We might need closer to fifteen to be presentable.”

“Roger that.”

Master disconnected and met my gaze. “Shower in the bathroom down here, across the hall. I’ll run upstairs and get clothes for both of us and then run back down and get in the shower. I’ll expect you to be clean and on your way out when I return.”