Part Six For His Eyes Only #3
“H-hot. Your hand feels hotter without any h-hair there,” Scott offered.
“Go on,” Joe said.
“But I…I can’t picture it, the hair n-not being there anymore.”
“Good.” Joe picked up the clippers again, switched them on and carefully began to work them over Scott’s balls. More blond strands tumbled toward the floor as he worked.
“G-good?” Scott whispered, as if speaking at full volume might distract Joe into cutting off far more than hair. However, his voice was also rough with desire. Any fear he felt wasn’t turning him off at all.
“I told you tonight would be for my eyes only, didn’t I?
” Joe reminded him. “I’m going to be the only one who knows how you’ll look without a single strand of hair hiding any of this skin from me.
” He had to alter his position on the therapist’s stool to give his own cock more room in his jeans as he spoke.
Scott’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Maybe I won’t let you see yourself at all,” Joe mused, doing his best not to let on just how fast that prospect made his heart race.
“I’ll order you to keep your cock covered as much as you can, and to close your eyes whenever you take a shower.
I’ll blindfold you whenever we have sex.
You’ll never see your balls again. Would you like that? ”
Scott shook his head.
“Good.” Joe chuckled. “That would be half the fun.” He carefully stretched the skin covering Scott’s balls as he continued his task.
Scott remained very still, and Joe was sure that was only partly because sharp blades were whirling against his testicles. Scott really didn’t get it.
“Dominants aren’t always nice guys,” Joe pointed out.
“They don’t always like giving their subs orders that they’ll enjoy following.
Knowing that a man is doing something against his own inclination because he wants to obey you more than he wants his own way, it’s…
” Joe paused and took the clippers away from Scott’s skin as he tried to find the right words.
“For a dom, it’s the mental equivalent of an expert blow-job. ”
Smiling to himself, Joe returned most of his attention to his self-appointed task; but he couldn’t quite stop part of his mind going off on its own tangent. For the first time, he found himself wondering what the sub might get out of that particular scenario.
“Some subs like getting those kinds of orders, too,” he finally decided. “I’m damned if I know why—but some guys really get off on obeying commands they don’t actually like following.”
* * * * *
Because knowing I’ve pleased you feels better than any orgasm ever could.
Scott’s chest shook as he took a deep breath.
He managed to keep the words back, but he couldn’t deny that they were true.
If it was a choice between knowing what he looked like shaved or knowing that he was pleasing Joe—that he was pleasing his dom—by remaining ignorant, there really was no competition.
A shiver ran down Scott’s spine. He desperately tried to stop it in its tracks, sure that any false move would have him singing soprano for life, but he was as powerless to stop it as he was to disobey Joe.
The sound of the clippers finally disappeared from Scott’s darkened world.
Joe ran his fingers over Scott’s balls. It was obvious that his touch was entirely practical.
Joe was just assessing his work with the shaver; he wasn’t even trying to pretend otherwise.
There was nothing of a lover’s caress in his actions.
But that didn’t change the way the heat from Joe’s palm soaked into Scott’s balls when he cupped them in his hand, or the way bliss radiated through Scott’s body with each movement of Joe’s fingers.
Scott moaned as he closed his eyes very tightly.
Part of him still remembered being a school boy and being so proud that the blond curls around his cock proved that he was finally becoming a man rather than a boy.
Another part of Scott’s mind was far more interested in being the kind of man who was capable of keeping Joe in his life for as long as possible.
His cock really just wanted to come and—
“What the—?” Scott jerked forward as far as his restraints would allow. He tried to look down to see what the hell Joe was doing to him now, but all he saw was the black interior of the leather blindfold.
“It’s just shaving cream,” Joe said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Can’t have you walking around with stubble all over your balls, can we?”
Scott automatically shook his head, but he wasn’t at all sure he wanted the last traces of hair removed from his skin.
He frowned behind his blindfold, but he didn’t go so far as to actually say anything to stop Joe.
The cream felt warm and slick, just like lube, as Joe spread it down between his arse cheeks. Scott couldn’t help but squirm.
“It’s in your best interests to remain very still from now on,” Joe informed him. He seemed to have finished applying the cream.
Scott’s mind instantly conjured up an image of a huge knife, a cross between an old straight edge razor and a machete. He swallowed rapidly. Every muscle in his body tensed.
Joe placed his fingers on Scott’s stomach, just alongside the edge of the cream, and stretched his skin taught. Scott helplessly pictured the blade descending toward his cock.
As a high pitched whimper escaped from the back of Scott’s throat, he gritted his teeth, and concentrated on remaining completely motionless. He barely felt the razor scrape across his skin. All he was really aware of was the cream being swiped away in sections.
His hair was going with it. Scott knew that, but he still couldn’t picture it. Even his imagination seemed to be obeying Joe’s orders. For Joe’s eyes only. This night belonged to Joe. For tonight at least, Scott belonged to Joe. He was Joe’s sub; Joe was his dom.
A droplet of pre-cum dripped onto Scott’s stomach as Joe bent his erection to one side to access another patch of soon to be hairless skin.
Scott was so desperate to come that his balls felt ready to explode as Joe worked on them, but Joe didn’t seem to be in any sort of rush.
No hairdresser at the salon could have been more determined to do a perfect job.
Something that Scott guessed had to be the razor, clicked against something else metallic.
Suddenly, both of Joe’s hands were on Scott’s body.
Every one of Joe’s fingers trailed over Scott’s crotch at the same time.
All at once, Scott realised that there was absolutely nothing, not even the shortest stubble, between him and Joe’s touch.
A shiver ran down Scott’s spine. Instead of feeling colder though, Scott felt the heat build up just beneath his skin. Joe moved his fingers over Scott’s crotch again, smoothing something into his skin.
Some kind of after-shave lotion, Scott guessed. It seemed to seep into his skin as Joe worked; within seconds, the heat from his cock was speeding through his muscles, making him tremble within his restraints.
“Does that feel good?” Joe asked.
Scott nodded.
Joe stroked his fingers down the cleft between Scott’s arse cheeks. Scott would never have believed that removing the few fine hairs that had been there at the start of the day could have made so much difference to how sensitive his skin was.
“You look good,” Joe said. “Really good…”
Scott felt a new wave of heat rush through him—this time to the cheeks on his face. He blushed. There was nothing that wasn’t worth it, if it meant hearing that sort of approval in Joe’s voice.
Out of nowhere, a cool rush of air brushed across Scott’s cock. Scott frowned. It took his arousal-addled mind far longer than it should have to realise that Joe was blowing against his bare skin.
As he groaned, Scott pictured Joe’s head bent over his cock and balls with his lips pursed. Every sensation was suddenly highlighted one hundred fold.
“Speak up,” Joe ordered. His breath caressed Scott’s cock as he spoke.
“Why the hell didn’t I d-d-do this years ago?” Scott blurted out.
* * * * *
“You haven’t done anything,” Joe corrected. “I did this.”
Scott thrust his hips forward, bucking off the bench in his enthusiasm, but Joe was pretty sure that Scott was still entirely oblivious to the way he was thrashing around. Joe ran his eyes over Scott’s body once more, taking in every taut line of muscle.
With his hands clenched into tight fists above his cuffs and his chest rapidly rising and falling in time with his ragged breaths, Scott was stunning.
And his newly shaved skin was amazingly tactile; Joe couldn’t stop stroking his fingers over it.
It was his new addiction, and he fully intended to indulge it whenever possible.
Dipping his head, Joe blew against Scott’s balls again. Scott whimpered, making Joe grin. He dipped his head a little further and ran the tip of his tongue over the smooth skin just to the right of Scott’s cock.
“Oh, G-G-God…”
Turning his head, Joe let the almost-two-o’clock-in-the-morning shadow on his jawline brush against Scott’s groin.
Scott didn’t even seem capable of asking for heavenly intervention this time. The sound that left his throat didn’t contain anything recognisable as a syllable.
Joe stood up. The legs of his stool scraped across the floor.
“Where are you g-going?” Scott demanded, trying to sit upright, only to slump back when his cuffs stopped him short.
“Wherever I want to,” Joe said.
It was an automatic reply—little more than punctuation designed to reinforce Scott’s lack of control, and the fact that Scott didn’t need to try to control anything at all when they were together.
But it was in that particular moment that Joe realised that, for the first time he could remember, he had absolutely no interest in walking away from someone—and not just because he was painfully hard and determined to come.
Being with Scott, controlling Scott, claiming ownership over Scott—it all felt so right.