Chapter 29 - Harland
HARLAND
Harland couldn’t drive all the way home with Warren as a passenger, no matter how much he wanted to. It was far too cold and dangerous. Instead, he navigated the much shorter ride to his mate’s apartment building.
Driving through the city with Warren strapped to his back was an experience. Using the sleeves of the straitjacket to lock Warren into position had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, but Harland found himself far more turned on by the light bondage than he would have expected.
This would not be the last time he strapped Warren to himself like an oversized backpack.
After just ten or so minutes, Harland reached Warren’s building. He parked on the curb and lifted Warren’s legs up around his waist, holding them in place over his stomach with a one-handed grip, and dismounted his bike.
With Warren’s arms strapped tight around him, the hold on Warren’s ankles was all Harland needed to keep him in place. He jogged up to the front door, and then paused when he realized that he didn’t have a key.
Hoping it would be that easy, Harland reached back to Warren’s bound body and prodded against his side for the pocket of his coat. He found the opening and slipped two fingers inside, feeling a key-like shape through the leather of his glove and pulling it out.
That was lucky, Harland mused as he opened the door and slipped inside. He walked up to Warren’s floor, passing an elderly woman on the stairs who gave him a very dubious look, and entered Warren’s apartment.
The brightly lit interior of Warren’s apartment made Harland wince. The skin around his eyes was still sore from the brief contact with natural daylight, and he was in no hurry to repeat the experience.
He’d have to get a second helmet and keep it stored on his bike.
Warren’s little bathroom did not have any windows. Harland carried Warren inside and took the towel hanging on the door and put it on the floor, using it to block the sliver of light managing to penetrate into the room.
The towel did a good enough job that Harland would be able to change back into his helmet without burning himself again.
Turning on the lights, Harland unstrapped Warren from his back and sat him down on the lid of the toilet.
Warren was deep in subspace – had been since Harland pinned him against their cart in the leather factory – and Harland was enjoying it immensely.
Warren took to Harland’s brand of bondage like a duck to water.
His reaction to the bondage bag was something Harland would cherish in his memories until the day he turned to ash.
The sheer yearning he had displayed for the experience of being contained was so in line with what Harland wanted to do to him that it felt like fate.
It was fate, Harland reminded himself. The wolf inside of him had guided him to his perfect mate. He’d managed it blind with Max, by some miracle, and thinking about those early days and how close he’d been to chasing Max away, horrified him.
He could so easily have missed out on the best thing in his life. It made Harland’s gut clench with anxious relief.
Then again, his reaction to Max had not been normal. Even if he hadn’t consciously felt his wolf, it must have been affecting him.
“Let me have this back,” Harland said, tilting Warren’s head back so that he could unfasten the strap of the helmet from under his chin and pull it off. Warren blinked up at him, his expression dazed.
Harland removed his goggles and quickly pulled his helmet back over his head. Warren’s scent filled his nose.
Harland bit back a surprised moan.
He hadn’t considered that having Warren wear his helmet would make it smell like him.
“Are you having fun?” Harland asked, cupping Warren’s cheek and stroking his thumb over his mouth.
Warren parted his lips and tried to take Harland's thumb into his mouth, making a little sound that sounded like agreement.
Harland let Warren suck on his thumb, pushing the digit into his mouth and feeling along the edge of his teeth.
“Yeah?” Harland removed his hand from Warren’s face and crouched down, dragging his hands up Warren’s thighs and cupping his waist. “Do you want to have some more fun?”
Warren stared at Harland’s visor with dark eyes, his mouth open and his breaths coming in little puffs. He nodded.
“Good boy. If you want to take a break or stop, just let me know.”
Warren nodded, but his expression said clearly that he didn’t think there was a possibility of that happening. Harland chuckled. Warren didn’t know what an absolute sadist he could be. He would find out in time, but not today.
Today he would go easy on the boy.
Pulling Warren to his feet, Harland pulled Warren’s pants down and then spun him around so that he could tighten the sleeves of the straitjacket back into place.
He then took the straps that went between Warren’s legs, one on either side of his cock and balls, and pulled them tight and fastened them too.
“Let’s see what we’re working with,” Harland murmured, pushing Warren into the corner and leaving him there while he explored the bathroom. He was looking for a douche or enema bag, lube, and maybe a condom.
Harland enjoyed wearing condoms when he had sex – that way he could fill the condom up with come and feed it to his partner after he was done fucking them.
There was nothing quite like making someone eat your load after the rush of sex was completed, spending the quiet aftermath doing something debauched and raunchy.
Max flatly refused to indulge him, but Harland hoped that Warren would be more accommodating.
Warren had an enema bag in the cabinet under the sink – an old red rubber thing with a stiff tube and white nozzle – and a fresh bottle of lube on the shelf behind the mirror, but no condoms that Harland could find.
Taking his time, Warren waiting obediently in the corner, Harland filled the enema bag and hung it up over the bathtub.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing Warren by one of the straps on his back and steering him over to the tub. He lifted him inside and bent him over. “We’re going to clean you out so that I can fuck you.”
It was high time that Harland knotted Warren’s ass. Him being the last of his fellow alphas to plant his knot in Warren’s hole was embarrassing.
“I want you to hold it until I say,” Harland warned, keeping his voice low and his tone firm. Warren shuddered and licked his lips, making Harland grin. He lubed up the enema nozzle and pushed it into the boy’s hole.
Warren grunted, his hole clamping down on the nozzle as he shuffled in place.
Harland knew that Warren could handle a werewolf knot, but you’d never have known it based on how tight he was. His hole resisted the intrusion of the thin nozzle, and Harland resigned himself to spending a bit more time prepping Warren’s hole to take him than he’d initially planned.
He bent down, stroking Warren’s cheek with his gloved hand to get him to stand still, before fucking the enema nozzle in and out of his tight hole a few times to get him used to it.
He started the flow of water, keeping a hold of the end of the nozzle so that it would stay in place.
Harland enjoyed giving enemas. He liked that they were uncomfortable and embarrassing, and he liked pushing his partner to take and hold just a little more water than they thought they could handle.
Or a lot more.
Harland groped Warren’s ass, still keeping hold of the end of the nozzle, massaging his cheeks with greedy gropes of his hand.
“Spank me,” Warren demanded, his voice breathless.
Harland obliged, but probably not how Warren had imagined. He spanked Warren’s ass hard, slamming his hand down five times in quick succession before grabbing him roughly by the back of his neck. He leaned down with a growl.
“You do not tell me what to do.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Warren cried, breathing harshly with tears in his eyes.
Harland stroked his face, gently wiping the tears away from his cheek.
“Good boy.” He traced Warren’s lips with the pads of his index and middle finger. “Was that what you wanted?”
“Not that hard,” Warren whined. He was still panting. “That was mean.”
“Is this what you wanted?”
Harland delivered a few lighter smacks to Warren’s ass. It had turned bright red from the brief but intense spanking.
Warren shuddered and moaned. “Yeah. That’s nice.”
Harland spanked him a few more times, alternating the light smacks with stroking and groping Warren’s legs and the back of his thighs.
After a few minutes, Warren started to struggle.
“I’m full,” he said, tripping from foot to foot.
Harland put his hand over his stomach, under his bound arms, and pressed down.
“You don’t feel full.” He squeezed Warren’s stomach through the soft leather. “The bag is only a third of the way empty.”
Warren gasped at the pressure, his legs going tense, and protested, “That’s a lot!”
“A whole bag is a lot,” Harland said, still stroking him. “Two bags is probably close to your limit. A third of one bag is just a start.”
Warren let out a whimper, realizing the game Harland was playing.
“You can take it.”
“I can't!” Warren whimpered, his legs shaking. “It’s going to come out. I can't hold it.”
“You can.”
Warren’s legs were shaking, and despite his calm insistence, Harland could tell that he really wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer.
He waited another ten seconds, Warren’s legs locking tight and his face twisted in a grimace, before pulling the nozzle out and lifting Warren over to the toilet.
Warren released the contents of his stomach with a humiliated grimace.
Harland kept his face pointed right at him, refusing to give him even a hint of privacy.
“Stop looking!” Warren cried. Then his eyes widened when he remembered what had happened the last time he gave Harland an order. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
Harland crouched down, reaching behind Warren to flush the toilet before stroking his naked thighs.
“You’re being such a good boy.”