Page 8 of There’s a Way (Mythic Beast #2)

Davy

Master had given me four other lines to write, varying from five hundred lines to seven hundred. In all, I’d written three thousand five hundred lines, and had averaged around six hundred lines per day.

And he said that was it. We’d do maintenance when he got home, but there’d be no punishment.

The lines were to help me remember. A training tool, and he wanted me to look at them as a positive experience, but I had a hard time with that last bit.

I tried, but damn , it got harder and harder, and having to change pens after every line was bloody genius because it meant I had to write entire lines out, rather than write the same word going down the page over and over, then the next word.

I tried writing every third line with one pen, then changing pens and writing every third line, but I screwed up the count and had to toss pages often enough, I eventually gave up and just wrote them the way he wanted me to — one line at a time, switching pens after every line.

Still, I probably wrote at least five thousand lines in all, if you count all the pages I had to toss because I fucked up too many times. I was allowed two words whited out per page. Any more and I had to toss the page and start over.

The spiral-bound notebook I’d bought had the good pages in it, and all the tossed pages I’d pulled from it were in a large manilla envelope, as instructed. That meant he’d see that I tried to cheat his system, and I didn’t know if I’d be in trouble or not for it.

And then there was the whole thing with Micca.

I honestly wasn’t sure how I felt about that situation.

She’d only been back a few weeks, and she was different .

I hadn’t talked to Master about her being back because all the stuff with my grandfather had dominated our conversations.

I have to write an email telling him about my day, surely I’d mentioned her in them?

I went back and looked, and breathed in relief that I’d told him every time I’d done something with her — at Matty’s house and going out to eat.

I kept an eye on Master’s location on my phone, and I went to the playroom when they got off the interstate and headed up the ridge.

All my lines were on the roll-around cart beside me, and I was standing naked in the center of the room, over the grate, holding onto the spreader bar over my head. Well, naked except for my wrist and ankle cuffs.

Master had written down the settings for the bar a while back, where it should be if 1) I hung from it without my feet touching the floor, 2) I could stand on tiptoes only, 3) I could stand flat-footed but my body was stretched uncomfortably, 4) I could comfortably stand without strain, 5) I was bent over at the waist with my arms behind me, pulled up.

For today, he’d ordered me to lower it to the second setting, so I was on tiptoes with my shoulders torqued and my spine lengthened. For each setting, there are actually two numbers — one with legs spread and another with legs together, and he’d wanted me to start with my legs together.

However, when he walked into the door, the first thing he did was lower it infinitesimally and order my legs spread. He then put a spreader bar between my ankles, and he sat on his stool to look through my notebook.

He took a long time going through it, and I grew more tense with every passing second.

“Your evenings after work have been filled with writing lines and working out,” he noted when he closed the notebook.

“Yes, Master.”

He opened the envelope, pulled the pages from it, and only took a few minutes to look through them. Though he seemed to look at every page, he didn’t spend long on most of them.

“I’m not surprised that you tried to find shortcuts, but I’m disappointed. Tell me, what did you learn from the attempts?”

“That your way worked best, Master.”

“It seems it wasn’t a pleasant lesson to learn. Do you think you learned that lesson, or do you feel as if I should help make sure it stuck in that hard head of yours?”

“I learned the lesson, Master, but whether you reinforce the lesson isn’t up to me.”

“More lines, then. Three hundred lines a day, every day, alternating colors as before, until I decide to either reduce the number, increase the number, or allow you to stop. I follow Master’s rules . Repeat it back to me.”

“I follow Master’s rules.”

“Yes, and that’s going to be the theme for maintenance today.

” He stepped in front of me. “I love you, slave. Maintenance the moment I walk in the door is to help keep you out of trouble, so I’m not forced to punish you and fuck up our homecoming.

You hurt me with your subterfuge, but I believe your side of the story, that you didn’t intend to keep it a secret, and fully intended to tell me the entire story upon my return. ”

It wasn’t subterfuge! Only, maybe it was a tiny bit, so I didn’t argue with him. Still, it was too big of a word for what I meant it to be — waiting until Master was home with free time and less stress.

“What’s the line again?” he asked while he connected my wrist cuffs to the spreader bar over my head.

“I follow Master’s rules.”

“Those are the only words you’re allowed until I say otherwise.

If something hurts, scream those words rather than just screaming.

If you want to tell me you love me, say those words.

Unless there’s a problem I need to be made aware of, I want to hear those words from your mouth frequently during this session, and nothing else. ”

He stepped to me and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “If I have to prompt the line, it means you aren’t saying it enough.”

I wanted to ask him how many days I would have to write it three hundred times, but instead I said, “I follow Master’s rules.”

Master hadn’t told me to plug myself, so of course that was the first thing he did. I couldn’t see it, but I’m pretty sure it was the purple glass one that opens me so wide.

Next came clamps on my nipples and then a weighted parachute on my balls.

I couldn’t see what he was doing behind me for a few minutes, but there’s no mistaking the feel of having your ass striped with a cane, and Master didn’t hold back.

No idea which cane it was, but it hurt like fuck — so many strikes I lost count, slice after concentrated slice, all that pain in such a skinny little stripe, over and over. I was bawling long before he stopped.

When he finally walked around front of me again, my ass felt like thousand-degree hamburger, my nipples were throbbing and hot, my asshole was spread wide open with the plug, and my balls were stretched and pulled and pulsing pain with every beat of my racing heart.

He removed both nipple clamps at the same time, and about two seconds later fire erupted in both of them with the return of normal blood flow. I bellowed and roared in pain, and barely managed to get out, “I follow Master’s rules!” inside the screams.

Master walked to the wall and returned with a cap that went over the head of my dick, and two ribbons off of it that he brought around behind me and tied. My dick was bound to my stomach, and the piercing and jewelry were covered.

Master stood up straight and leaned in to kiss me before saying, “Trust is important. It’s imperative we trust each other.

I need you to trust I won’t damage you when I hurt you, and I need to be able to trust you’ll share everything with me I need to know, whether you want to talk to me about it or not. ”

I wanted to apologize again, agree with him, promise to always share right away in the future, and a dozen other things, but I only said, “I follow Master’s rules.”

And then Master proceeded to flog the fuck out of my dick while I screamed and thrashed, and managed to gasp out, “I follow Master’s rules” for some of the screams.

It wasn’t the first time Master has flogged my dick until it was fucking raw, but I’m pretty sure it lasted a lot fucking longer this time.

My calves burned like fire, my shoulders were exhausted, and I wasn’t certain I’d be able to let go of the bar when Master finally gave permission.

On top of that, my ass cheeks and the backs of my legs throbbed with pain, my balls swung with the weights and pulsed with pain, and the strokes kept coming to my cock.

I’d gotten used to the monstrous plug, but I still knew it was there, stretching me wide open.

When Master finally stopped, he removed the contraption protecting my piercing and holding my dick up, gently lifted and removed the parachute from my balls, and finally used the remote in his pocket to slowly let the bar I was holding down while he held me around my waist. I came off tiptoes, and then watched my hands go lower and lower.

I didn’t unlock my elbows, so my arms came down straight in front of me.

While the bar was coming down, he disconnected my wrist cuffs, but I didn’t try to let go. He’d tell me when I could.

When my hands were a couple of inches lower than my shoulders, the bar stopped. Master moved behind me and massaged my shoulders a few moments before saying, “One finger at a time, slave. Take your time letting go.”

“I follow Master’s rules.”

“Yes, you do. Let’s change that up for the rest of the session. I follow Master’s orders. Say it back to me.”

“I follow Master’s orders.”

He walked me to the mat, ordered me to my knees, and I sank to them while saying, “I follow Master’s orders.”

And then my stomach somersaulted when he pulled different nipple clamps from his pocket, but rather than whine, I said, “I follow Master’s orders.” It mostly came out as a whine, so I closed my eyes and said it again as a statement, with a stronger voice.

And then the clamps went on and I squealed the words, “I follow Master’s orders!”

I heard something being lifted from the mat and my eyes flew open. Concrete filled my belly when I realized Master was walking behind me with the humbler.

“Assume the position, slave.”

The humbler is usually two pieces of arched wood with a screw set-up on the ends.

The arches go behind the back of the legs when spread open, the balls are inserted through the center, and then the screws are closed around the scrotum, stretching the balls on the other side of the wood.

It isn’t tight on the scrotum, there’s plenty of blood flow, but you can only kneel while wearing it, and any movement pulls the balls farther into the sack, crushing them into the end and stretching the scrotum painfully if you try to stand.

Master’s is stainless steel, which means it was cold when it went on, making it ever-so-much worse.

I gasped a few times, and then shuddered with the cold.

“Your body will warm it up soon enough, slave.”

“I follow Master’s orders.”

“That’s right, and Master wants you to crawl to the other side of the room and back.”

Crawling on hard concrete isn’t my favorite, but I made my way across the room and back, saying my line every fifth time my right knee moved forward.

When I returned, Master had two more mats beside the one normally out, with four large dildos at either end of the twenty-four feet of mats. Or, I assumed the length, since the mat that stays down all the time is eight feet by six feet, and it looked like they were all laid out longways.

“Crawl back and forth on the mats, carrying the dildos. Pick the pink one up in your mouth first, carry it to the other side, put it down, pick the flesh colored one up, back to the other side, and keep going. Each dildo gets bigger. Eventually, you’ll just hold the largest in your mouth going back and forth until I say enough. ”

Before I put the first in my mouth, I said, “I follow Master’s orders,” and then I started my task.

* * * *

Will

I hadn’t been sure this would be enough. Part of me, the hurt part of my heart, wanted to punish my slave for lying to me. And okay, he hadn’t outright lied, but I saw it as a lie of omission, and it was still hard for me to get past.

But Ghost had been right — if I believed him to be truthful, we had to move past it.

Watching my boy struggle to crawl back and forth, seeing the pain on his face when he had to turn around to go the other way, settled my heart as the cane and flogger hadn’t completely managed. He was trying so hard, and it spoke volumes about his commitment to me and to our relationship.

I’ve never fucked a man in a humbler, but I’ve seen it happen a few times at some wild parties, so I knew it was possible.

Still, I was careful with my boy, making sure he was stable in his knees-and-chest position before I removed the plug and crammed my dick in.

His asshole was open a lot wider than I prefer after being spread by our fattest-necked dildo for so long, but he still yelped and screamed when I went in because I’m sure the humbler made his balls feel every movement.

Also, he couldn’t say his line because he was still holding the largest dildo in his mouth, stretching his jaw wide.

After going in and out a dozen times, I went in and held, and looked at my boy’s tear-streaked face in the stainless mirror. I didn’t want to damage him, and any explorations about his limits when being fucked in the humbler should happen when he could speak, and during a normal scene.

I reluctantly pulled out and removed the humbler, ordered him to spread his knees, and then hammered my boy’s ass hard, fast, and brutal.

When I finally came, it was as if everything was wiped clean. No lingering anger or pain. My boy was mine , and we were good.

I pulled the dildo from his mouth and told him. “Say it one more time.”

“I follow Master’s orders.”

“I love you, slave. Normal speech again.”

“I love you too, Master. More than anything.”

He hadn’t asked to come because he hadn’t been allowed speech other than the one line. Also, because it was maintenance. His dick was hard and leaking a little — did I want to deny him, or give him a day of orgasms?

I pressed one of the skinny-necked plugs into his ass and told him, “On your knees and jack off, boy. We’re going to see how many orgasms my slave can have in a day.”

It didn’t take him long to jack himself off, and I allowed an orgasm nearly as soon as he appropriately begged for it.

While he licked his jizz from his hand and the mat, I looked around the room at the mess we’d made. Sometimes I make him clean everything as soon as we finish, but most of it would be fine waiting. In fact, everything would be fine waiting.

I helped him up, walked us to the bed, pulled the covers and sheets down, and we crawled into the snuggly warmth.