Chapter Four #2
Terry wasn’t entirely sure what Phil meant by his words, but he had the sense of them from his tone.
As Phil continued to wrap what seemed to be a very long piece of the cord around him, the strength in his Master’s hands was clear.
Every pull and tug on the rope as Phil secured his arms behind his back submerged him further into a cocoon of safety. Phil’s binds helped keep Terry whole.
Once Phil had tied his arms so they were completely immobile and held together all the way to his biceps, it seemed as if another piece of rope was added.
Phil attached the cord to his wrists, the tugs harsher, yet Terry still recognized the surety of Phil’s care.
Every few tugs and pulls, Phil would slip a finger between the rope and Terry’s skin as if ensuring it wasn’t too tight.
Terry grunted as his body was drawn back by a jerk on his wrists.
He hadn’t expected the movement, and he supposed that was why Phil had chosen to use the mask.
The thrill of the unknown had his dick leaking and his balls aching so much it was torture.
Terry moaned, and Phil let out a light hum in response as he secured the extra length of rope attached to Terry’s wrists, tying it to Terry’s ankles. Even more helpless. It was one of the most amazing things he’d ever experienced.
“That’s my good baby.” Phil wrapped yet more rope around him. “Stay with me.”
Terry couldn’t move, and it was clear why Phil had wanted him to stretch out before they’d begun.
Silence hung between them as Phil seemed to have completed binding Terry.
His touch disappeared. Phil had promised Terry the first time he’d ever blindfolded him that he’d never leave him alone either then or if Terry was restrained in any way, so he was certain Phil was still in the room. However, he couldn’t hear him at all.
What’s he doing? Is he staring at me?
Terry focused on his breathing. The calm which had begun to envelop him the more he slipped under, dissipating the constant noise in his head, evaporated as he strained to hear anything at all that would indicate Phil’s presence.
Dammit.
“I’m here, baby.”
Terry almost yelped. Phil was a lot closer than he’d realized.
Terry groaned in frustration. “This isn’t working. I keep thinking about where you are, what you’re doing, what you’re going to do.” The whole situation had killed his boner.
Phil placed his hand on top of Terry’s head and let it rest there.
The heat and weight of it slowed his heart rate a bit.
His Master didn’t respond vocally, didn’t move, didn’t stroke or caress him.
No reassuring words were spoken, direction offered, or explanation given as to why Terry was failing so miserably as a sub.
This is bullshit. “Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Okay, so maybe his tone had been a tad confrontational, but Phil was supposed to be training him for chrissakes. How could he learn anything when his Master was just standing there doing nothing?
“Are you safewording? Because if you are, you need to use your word in order for me to stop.”
Terry frowned, his eyebrows brushing against the satin fabric of the mask as he fought against his frustration. “Why the hell would I want to safeword?”
“That’s not for me to decide. You have the power over that.”
A sigh escaped his mouth, much louder than he’d intended. It was even possible that there’d been a growl attached to it. “Fine. I’m not safewording, okay? Even though I suck at this.”
“I don’t have a problem with you sucking.”
Terry snorted before he could stop himself. “Okay, Sir. Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, baby. This is a journey for us, not a destination.”
That had always been one of Terry’s favorite expressions, but he’d never thought to attach it to their D/s dynamic.
He inhaled a deep breath then slowly let it go.
I don’t have to be perfect this minute. Or ever.
Phil’s love and their connection and respect as Master and sub were the only things of importance.
Phil still hadn’t moved, but instead of tuning in to what his Master was doing or might be doing, Terry narrowed his focus to the heat that’d built between them, the warmth linking them physically.
Terry fell back into the peace that had been growing within him earlier.
He wasn’t aroused yet, but he wasn’t concerned.
Giving himself to Phil was all that mattered.
He didn’t need to figure it out. Phil was leading, and he was following, their balance as Dom and sub all that mattered.
His lips parted on a soft sigh as Phil gently trailed his fingers down one side of his face then used the backs of them to caress his skin on the other cheek.
Phil continued his exploration of Terry’s body with his hands, teasing his throat, then his shoulders and chest before reaching the top of the binds encasing Terry’s upper arms. Terry let out a sharp gasp as Phil grabbed the rope securing his biceps then tugged on them, his balance almost failing him.
Phil’s grip held him upright as Terry settled on his heels again.
The contrast between gentle and harsh had brought his dick back to life.
Terry wiggled his fingers, adjusted his body within the confines of the restraints.
The scrape of the ties across his skin as his muscles bunched and rippled beneath them was strange, yet erotic and satisfying.
Oh yeah. Keeping this at the top of the list.
Phil had moved away again, but this time, Terry could trace his quiet movements in the room.
Condom maybe? As much as he loved being fucked by Terry, he wasn’t ready to be let loose from the rope.
Dammit. I’m doing it again. Phil was the one in charge and it was obvious it was going to take him a helluva long time to embrace that in anything other than a sexual context.
Terry sensed Phil nearer and started at Phil’s firm grip around the base of his cock.
“This is mine, so I’ll do whatever I want with it and I still haven’t decided when I’ll let you come or whether or not it’ll be today.”
Terry squirmed as his balls tightened, then cried out when Phil gave the sensitive orbs a sharp tug down in their sac.
“Jesus.” Oops. Phil hadn’t said anything about not talking. However, Phil had made swearing a big no-no.
“Well, you just answered the question about whether or not I should let you come today.”
“What? Over one word?”
“Of course, there’s always the day after tomorrow as well. Or keep talking and we can go into next week.”
Terry pressed his lips together so hard, he was afraid he might bite into them. Rat bastard.
“Oh, this won’t do, won’t do at all.” Phil pumped Terry’s softening erection for several strokes, his grip sure and strong.
He wiped his thumb across the leaking tip, swirling it before teasing Terry’s glans.
His hips jerked, but the movement was stopped abruptly by his bonds.
Terry whimpered as Phil jacked him more, his inability to aid in Phil’s efforts unbelievably frustrating.
Wait. Didn’t he say there would be no coming today?
Phil switched from masturbating him to securing his junk. So far, they’d only used the cage so attaching a cock ring didn’t seem as if it would be too bad.
“That’s much better. Now you can stay just like this while you satisfy me. Your swollen balls and red-tipped cock hard and wet, begging for release but prevented from having it.”
Okay, maybe a tiny bit bad.
The ache in his sac clearly made it less than good.
He’d never been one to deny himself much.
When he wanted to get off, he did. On occasion, he might slow it down a few times to make his orgasm stronger, but not for hours at a time.
Even though the spanking hadn’t worked out as a punishment, apparently Phil had managed to find something else that did.
Phil stopped manipulating his genitals and Terry sensed him rising.
Terry grunted, Phil yanking his head back by the hair and almost toppling him over again.
This time, Phil held him fast, the strands clutched between his fingers the only thing preventing Terry from falling.
The pain was sharp, but even if he hadn’t had the cock ring on, he was sure he would’ve remained rock hard.
It had begun to occur to him that the pain play Phil had mentioned a few times might be something he’d want to explore after all.
Every time they did something with a bite of pain, Terry would get even more turned on than he already was.
“Open your mouth nice and wide.” Terry immediately obeyed. “That’s my good little cocksucker. I’m gonna fuck that throat of yours until I fill you with my cum.” Phil squeezed Terry’s chin with the hand not pulling on his hair. “And don’t miss a drop if you plan on coming tomorrow.”
His cock throbbed within the confines of the ring, the ache changing from purely frustrating to overwhelmingly hot.
Terry followed Phil’s orders and the first harsh thrust of Phil’s prick sliding across his tongue made the ring around his junk tighten.
Phil’s arousal spurred him on and he sucked greedily, swiping his tongue all around the head, flicking the glans, then pushing the tip of his tongue into the slit.
Phil groaned as he gripped Terry’s hair tighter, punching his hips, driving his cock deeper until it bumped the back of Terry’s throat.
Terry choked and sputtered around Phil’s dick a few times until he was able to open up enough to take him all the way in.
Phil hadn’t slowed his rhythm, so Terry wasn’t able to swallow around his shaft for several strokes.
At last he accomplished it, Phil pausing, keeping his cock buried as Terry worked his throat muscles around it.
“Yeah, that’s it. Take it so good.”