Part Five Cordially Invited #4
Scott frowned; he was reasonably sure the rope tassel wouldn’t hold him in place if he made any sort of serious attempt to free himself.
Suddenly, Joe’s work on the knot pulled Scott’s whole body an inch closer to the opposite side of the counter.
Scott’s bare cock rubbed against the cushion beneath him.
Cool air caressed his arse. The tie-back became irrelevant.
He could very happily spend the rest of his life in that exact spot without ever wanting to be free.
“Now I really can do whatever I want with you,” Joe said. “Can’t I?”
Scott nodded, still staring at his bound hands and wondering what else Joe might decide to tie him up with in the future.
In that moment, Scott’s world stopped being a place that contained innocent everyday things and, in a completely different mental category, kinky things that were designed to be used in erotic games.
The line in the sand disappeared—Joe’s heavy boots stomped it out as he strode across it. A hundred kinky things followed in Joe’s wake, spreading through Scott’s world until there was nowhere he could hide from them.
Scott only managed to tear his gaze from the tie-back when Joe took a step back. That was wrong. Scott opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. He might as well have been gagged.
Relief rushed through Scott, sweeping away his panic, as Joe failed to stride out of the room and leave him there, exposed and helpless. Instead, Joe walked around the counter and stood directly behind him, just an inch from his bare backside.
“Joe?” Scott finally managed to rasp out, as the silence stretched out.
Joe slid his fingertips down between Scott’s cheeks to tease his hole.
Lightening sparked through Scott’s body. His legs jerked. He kicked the side of the counter as he desperately tried to gain enough leverage to press his arse back against Joe’s fingers.
It was no use. The side of the counter was just as smooth as its top. All Scott managed to do was rub his cock more firmly against the cushion and grind his crotch into the rough, tapestry surface.
Scott was stuck, unable to do anything other than accept whatever Joe chose to give him. He couldn’t even spread his legs in invitation because his damn trousers were bunched up around his knees. He silently rattled through every curse he knew.
Joe hummed an unidentifiable little tune under his breath as he pushed the back of Scott’s polo-shirt up, exposing another few inches of skin.
A shiver danced along Scott’s spine, more because of how vulnerable he felt than anything as irrelevant as temperature; and even more so because of how much that sense of vulnerability appealed to him.
“Joe?”
“Yeah?”
Scott peered awkwardly over his shoulder just in time to see Joe take a little tube of lube out of the back pocket of his jeans.
The next moment, Joe’s hands left Scott’s field of vision. Scott held his breath, mentally reciting every prayer he could remember. Someone was listening. All his desperate supplications were answered as Joe’s fingers slid between his buttocks.
The lube was warm after being carried around in Joe’s pocket. It was wonderfully slick as Joe circled Scott’s hole with his fingertips, teasing him without trying to enter him.
Even while he knew it was impossible, Scott struggled to spread his legs.
Moaning his frustration, he dropped his head toward the countertop as Joe slid his fingers inside him, very, very slowly.
Scott only remembered how to breathe properly once those digits were buried so deeply inside him that he could feel Joe’s knuckles pressing against the cleft between his arse cheeks.
Scott crammed as much air as possible into his lungs, not sure how long his ability to breathe without conscious effort would last this time. Joe crooked the digits and immediately found Scott’s prostate.
Scott jerked, damn near putting his foot through the side of the counter as pleasure hit him hard and fast. Pain shot through his toes, but it couldn’t compete with the pure bliss Joe pushed into him.
“If you stay still for me, I might give you permission to come.”
Permission. Might. Those words registered in Scott’s mind, even if nothing else did.
“W-what?”
“When you’re at home playing with your cock all by yourself, you can come whenever you like—for now. But when we’re together, you need permission.”
“S-since when?” Scott blurted out.
“Since now. Since I decided it would be fun—for me, anyway.”
Scott’s brain was so full of pleasure he struggled to come up with an answer.
Then he realised that he was wasting his time.
It hadn’t been a question. Joe wasn’t asking him to agree to anything.
Joe was telling him how things were going to be.
The decision had been made. Joe thought it would be fun.
Scott’s opinion was irrelevant, and he now needed Joe’s permission to come.
Under those circumstances, there was only one thing he could realistically say. “P-please?”
“Maybe,” Joe said.
Maybe?
Scott whimpered, instinctively pulling at the tassel restraining his hands. The tie-back was far stronger than it looked. All Scott succeeded in doing was tightening the knot around his wrists.
He groaned as the rope chafed against his skin. There might as well have been another length of rope running beneath his torso to wrap around his shaft and ball sac because the sensation went straight to his cock.
Each tug against the tie-back seemed to pull Scott’s balls up closer to his body, making him all the more frantic to come. The fact he needed Joe’s permission before he could do that only increased his need. Scott clenched his teeth in a last ditch attempt to stop himself cursing Joe out loud.
“No.”
Scott blinked open his eyes. He hadn’t said anything out loud—he was sure of that. He had to have done something else that Joe disapproved of, but Scott had no idea what he could have done to make Joe so angry with him.
“Don’t try to keep quiet,” Joe ordered. “I’ve told you before, I want to hear you.” He tilted his hand, rubbing the tips of his fingers more firmly against Scott’s prostate.
Scott arched against the table top and let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream. He’d tentatively hoped that the noise might please Joe in some way, but it made Joe take his fingers away instead.
“N-no! Don’t s-stop!” Scott pleaded, unable to form anything that resembled a complete sentence. “Please, I…”
Scott whimpered. Joe’s fingers belonged inside him; he couldn’t take them away. But Joe didn’t take any notice of his protests.
Gathering up every scrap of energy he could find inside himself, Scott lifted his head and looked over his shoulder.
One glance, and Scott knew he’d been wrong.
Joe’s fingers didn’t belong inside him. They were designed for pushing Joe’s clothing aside and for rolling a condom down his shaft. All at once, that was obvious.
Slicking the latex with extra lube, Joe positioned the tip of his cock against Scott’s hole. He caught hold of Scott’s hips and held him still, providing himself with a nice stationary target to thrust into.
Scott’s trousers still kept his knees trapped together. His legs trembled as he strained against the fabric, but every bloody seam held true. All Scott could do was lie there and wait impatiently for Joe to thrust forward and bury himself inside his arse.
Scott couldn’t stay silent any longer. Words began to tumble from his lips. He had no idea what he said. Begging, cursing, for all he knew he could have been speaking in tongues. But still, that first punishing thrust never came.
Joe leaned forward, pushing the tip of his cock against Scott’s hole very gently, but even when his glans breached the tight ring of muscle, Joe didn’t rush.
He continued to slowly feed his shaft into Scott’s body inch by wonderful inch.
He stretched him and filled him so gradually that it seemed to Scott that Joe’s cock was never ending.
And each moment that passed only made Scott crave each little bit of Joe’s cock even more desperately.
Scott bit down on his bottom lip before quickly correcting himself and releasing the abused skin from between his teeth. He didn’t have permission to keep his moans and groans to himself.
Oh, God—permission.
“P-please?” he gasped.
Joe stroked his hands up Scott’s sides, from where they’d held his hips steady, to rest over his ribs on either side of his torso. Scott arched into Joe’s palms. At the same time, he clenched around Joe’s cock, relishing everywhere they touched.
Joe’s hands were glorious; so was his crotch, pressed tightly against Scott’s buttocks.
Time ticked by. The room was so quiet, Scott could hear the clock on the wall counting out the seconds. Eventually, Joe swayed back, gradually sliding out of Scott’s hole. Scott held his breath. A lifetime passed before Joe finally ploughed back into him.
Again, then again. Joe finally began to move his hips a little faster on each stoke, until he was thrusting into Scott in earnest. He slid his hands back down and grabbed Scott’s hips, holding him secure as he pounded into him.
The cushion beneath Scott’s groin stopped his hip bones getting battered against the counter’s edge, but the textured fabric rubbed against Scott’s cock in time with each of Joe’s thrusts.
Scott felt his pre-cum soaking into the cushion cover, but he was as helpless to stop that as he was to control anything else.
Joe had stolen any power Scott might have once had. Like a masked thief creeping into an empty house in the dead of night, Joe took away both Scott’s control and his desire for control.
Even Scott’s ability to think seemed to have been scooped up and locked away in Joe’s bag of stolen goods.
Scott whimpered in time with Joe’s thrusts. He clenched and unclenched his fists, tugging against his bondage, not trying to get out of it but unable to remain entirely motionless.