Chapter 29 - Dax
DAX
Ipress the muzzle of the unloaded gun to Reed’s mouth.
His lips are trained to accept a weapon between them. My hunting knife. My gun. My cock.
Fear flickers in Reed’s eyes even though the safety is on. Even though he knows the bullets are out and I’d never let anything bad happen to him. But it’s all part of the game. Our game. The one we’re making the rules up for as we go, and I’m thrilled we get to play it again.
I hold the frame and feed him the barrel.
I relish the first delicious hints of obedience in Reed’s expression.
My free hand splays across his lower back, pressing him into me.
He can’t pull away or pivot his head. The heat of his dry body against my wet one is a welcome shock.
Reed lets out a small gag when he reaches the trigger.
“Say ahhh,” I instruct.
He nearly unhinges his jaw. His pearly white lower teeth scrape against the trigger guard as he tries and fails to overfill his accommodating mouth.
I cross to the closet and pull out a leather collar and leash that I purchased with Reed in mind. Without a word, I clasp the collar around Reed’s thick neck and give it a good tug to ensure it’s nice and tight.
Reed moves toward the bed, but I yank the leash back toward the door, exercising my new element of control. “This way. Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”
“Where are we going?” he asks when we stop in the hallway, where I store the gun and its ammo safely away.
“Don’t ask questions, boy,” I say, wrapping the long end of the leash three times around my knuckles so I have better leverage.
When I turn on the light in the downstairs guest bedroom, Reed looks giddy.
“Welcome to my lair,” I say, yanking him inside and shutting the door.
After buying the house and organizing Reed’s travel, this became my primary project. I’m excited to finally share my work with its inspiration. The man who will get the most use out of this diabolical playground.
Some guys might’ve wished for a home studio or a man cave, a screening room, or a crafting space. But not my Reed. I knew exactly what to do with this extra space to make it ours.
Blackout curtains hang over the windows so our neighbors can’t see in.
Soundproof padding has been added to the walls to prevent noise bleed.
Along the perimeter of the ceiling is a strip of lights that I can change the color of from my phone, depending on what mood we’d like to set.
They’re red now, casting a devious glow over the equipment.
No, it’s not a home gym, though we both will surely get a workout in here.
Every inch of floor space—which I made sure was made of cleanable vinyl—is covered with sex furniture.
In the far corner, a swing with wrist and ankle shackles hangs from the ceiling.
Nearby is an X-cross made of wood with restraining points at the wrists, ankles, and waist, giving me full access to any and every part of Reed I choose while he’s attached to it.
In the center of the room is a submission horse. The position I’m most eager to try my boy out in. He moves on instinct toward it, ready to mount it like a cowboy.
“Not yet. You’re not properly attired.” I go to a closet, push aside some hangers, and extract the high-quality spandex Nova Ranger suit I had custom-made to Reed’s measurements. “A long time ago, I told you I’d get you a new one.”
Reed beams at me. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” I say. “But this isn’t the one I want you to wear.”
I select another from the closet. Similar in design and proportions, but instead of blue, yellow, and white, the suit is black, gray, and silver.
It’s the outfit for Astro Invader, Nova Ranger’s short-lived evil twin from the comic series, but I don’t need to tell Reed that. He’s eyeing the suit with glee.
“I even had a special feature added,” I say as I pass it to him.
Where the crotch seam should be, I had the tailor insert a two-way zipper. “Easy access,” Reed says, sultry eyes cast on me.
“My thoughts exactly,” I purr.
“You spoil me,” he says.
“Only when you earn it,” I say. “Now suit up, Astro.”
Once he’s costumed, he assumes the position with his stomach on the center panel and his ass in the air.
I go over to the tall black cabinet I had built and fastened to the wall.
All the toys, gags, paddles, and ropes are displayed like an arsenal of debauchery.
I select my favorite red ropes and use them to tie Reed to the bars.
To tease him, I trace my fingers up and down the sides of his torso, relishing the involuntary twitch of his muscles, which are even more toned and cut since I last saw him.
When I’m finished with my expert knots, he looks like a prized animal waiting to be judged at the county fair. I’d give him the blue ribbon for Best Boy.
I rasp a match against a small box and light several tall paraffin candles. If Reed thinks they’re for ambiance, he’s in for a hot surprise.
From the black closet of kink, I select a braided leather flogger.
Tendrils rain down from the handle. I waggle them lightly, starting at Reed’s neck, working my way down to his ass.
“I was hoping your welcome home would be more tender,” I say, playing up my role and lowering my voice.
“Too bad you had to go and test my limits with that prank of yours.”
I let loose a sharp strike. The flogger snaps Reed’s ass. An initial yelp devolves into a helpless, horny whimper.
“That’s for being such a good lay the first time we met. So good that I couldn’t get you out of my head,” I say.
Strike. “That’s for fulfilling one of my longest-running role-play fantasies the second time we met, making you impossible to keep out of my heart.”
Strike. “That’s for impeding my plans to rob Wendell Blitz blind.”
Strike. “That’s for making these last six months without you the longest months of my goddamn life.”
Strike. Strike. Strike. “Those are for tricking me tonight when all I wanted to do was shower you with pent-up affection.”
Reed’s hands and feet rattle against his rope shackles. His toes curl with the rippling echoes of pain.
“Have you learned your lesson, Astro?” I ask.
“Yes,” Reed crows.
I tsk and whip his ass again. “That was a rhetorical question. Did I tell you that you could speak?”
Reed gets out the N in no before shaking his head.
I move to Reed’s front. His face is already ruddy and we’re only getting started. Small beads of sweat collect around his nose. I brush a few sticky hairs off his face before stepping out of my shorts. “You don’t need words. Your beautiful mouth is for one thing and one thing only.”
Usually, I’d make him beg for and savor my length.
Not tonight. It’s been too long, and I’m feeling too feral to draw this first load out. I want to get it over with so we can get to the longer, filthier second round.
I shove my girthy cock inside his mouth. His eyes widen with shock from the sudden stuffing. He gags around my shaft. The vibrations in his throat only heighten my pleasure. I press my pelvis forward, grabbing a fistful of his hair.
“That’s it,” I muse. “Open that throat. All the way. Down, Astro, down.”
Tears speckle his blue eyes. Some escape and mix in with his sweat, sliding down his cheeks as my bloated cockhead grazes the back of his throat.
I hold there. He looks too good with his nose in my trimmed pubes and my low-hanging balls resting on his chin.
My boy is back with me, and I’m going to make sure he knows his place in our new home.
When his gags turn frantic, I pull out, but only a bit before I start a slow, steady thrust. The wet heat of his mouth is perfection on my sensitive dick that’s been dying for this kind of attention.
In the corner, the candles I lit are ready for use. As soon as I remove my cock, Reed pants for breath. It sounds like relief. Like he thinks I’m done making him suffer. But the fun’s just beginning.
A pool of hot wax fills the crater surrounding the wick of the nearest candle.
I can tell by Reed’s eyes that he knows what I’m about to do, but he also knows better than to say anything in protest. Speaking gets him gagged.
The sooner I dole out my punishment, the sooner I can unravel him with my toys and fingers and cock.
Bring him to an earth-shattering orgasm.
I unzip his suit along the back, splaying the stretchy fabric so his smooth skin is exposed.
Over his impressive shoulder muscles, I tilt the candle.
Wax drips out and sears Reed’s skin along his spine.
He winces and ahhs. I warn him that if he doesn’t keep quiet, I have other ways to make him.
He looks back over his shoulder, biting his trembling bottom lip.
He hovers somewhere just north of the ecstasy line.
The wax dries in wavy white lines like arrows pointing me toward his ass. A hunger whips up inside me.
“Good boy,” I say, setting the candle aside.
I kneel behind the sex horse, expose his ass, and run my fingers across his quivering, pink hole. “Good, good boy.”
I circle his entrance with my thumb, watching as the sensitive spot winks until I’m too starved to bear it. I dive in, tongue-first, feasting on him. Long, slow licks at first turn into voracious, lapping circles. Round and round I go as his hole expands, eager for more than external stimulation.
I pump lube from the nearest canister and slather his hole in it before slipping my finger into him.
The gasp Reed lets out spurs me on. I add more fingers, gently pressing the pads of them against his prostate.
I’m sure his aching, unseen dick is twitching against the snug suit and the cushion beneath him.
I bet his precum is making a sticky puddle that he is forced to lie in.
I grab more Shibari rope and throw it over the industrial grid along the ceiling.
From my well-stocked closet, I select a silver J-shaped anal hook with a ball at the end.
I know it’s going to rub Reed’s P-spot in all the spectacular ways not even my fingers can, and that this is going to be a night neither of us ever forgets.