Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Will
I got Davy up at the crack of dawn, fucked his ass and then ordered him to jack off and lick it up, and took him running because it was going to be our last run before I left — and Davy’s last run for a month or more.
I took us off the trail, into a little grotto, and made him jack off into his hand and lick it up at the three-mile mark and then again in a heavily wooded section near the end of our seven miles. He had trouble the third time, and that was what I needed. I showed him the small travel tube of cinnamon toothpaste in my pocket. “This goes on your dick, your hand, and up your ass if you can’t get yourself off in the next six minutes.”
He managed it, though he only had twenty seconds to spare, and he again caught it and licked it from his hands. The toothpaste would’ve added enough pain, it would’ve helped him over the top, but I was glad we hadn’t had to go there. He’d have had to wash his dick when we arrived at our next destination, so it was better he’d managed without.
“Good boy. No more erections today. Keep it soft or you’ll be punished.”
Rather than taking us home, our security guys drove us to a tattoo place that wasn’t open yet. The RTMC has their own place, and they’d agreed to an early appointment, so we’d be the only people there.
I turned to Davy before we exited the vehicle. “You will read whatever is put in front of you, and you will sign it. I’ve already read all the paperwork. If they hand you something I haven’t seen, I’ll take it from you and read it before I hand it to you. You will answer any questions directed at you in as few words as you deem socially acceptable. You will not speak unless asked a direct question.”
“Yes, Master.”
We walked to the door, and a heavily tattooed man opened it for us and then locked it once we were in.
“Just this way. I’m Clay. Davy needs to sign some paperwork, and I’ll need to see his ID. Viper explained your relationship, and I can honor that once we get everything signed and a few questions answered.”
Davy looked at me in a panic because he didn’t have his wallet with him, but I pulled his ID from mine and handed it over.
Davy quickly read through the consent forms, signed and dated them, and I pushed them across the counter to Clay.
“I’m aware you have some contact allergies,” Clay told Davy. “All our sprays are hypoallergenic. I’ll be using betadine, are you allergic to iodine?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Hold your forearm out and let’s do a little test area before I soak your penis down in the stuff.”
Davy did as he was told, and Clay painted a quarter-sized spot on it with a cotton swab. He sprayed something on Davy’s other forearm, and I took a look at it to see it was a piercing aftercare spray. So, even though it was hypoallergenic, Clay was still making sure it wouldn’t be a problem. I approved.
“Have you had a fever in the past week, or have you been around anyone sick?”
“No fever, and I don’t think I’ve been around anyone sick.”
“If you feel as if you might be coming down with something, we should wait, so it’s important you’re honest with me about that.”
Davy shook his head. “I’m fine. We just went for a run.”
“Have you had alcohol, marijuana, or any other mind-altering substance in the past two days?”
He shook his head and seemed to remember he was supposed to answer verbally, so he said, “No.”
“This is important, and it’s the last question. I need it to be more than a yes or no, I need you to repeat back what you’re authorizing. Do you give your Master authorization to make all decisions about placement, hole size, and jewelry for your piercing?”
Davy nodded. “I authorize Will to make all decisions about everything.”
Clay looked to me. “You know him best. I can’t have him bound so he can’t move, but if you want him gagged or blindfolded, it’s fine so long as the gag doesn’t restrict breathing. However you think he’ll handle this best.” He shrugged. “Or worst, if that’s what you’re going for, so long as he doesn’t get erect.”
Three orgasms so close together pretty much guaranteed he wasn’t going to get hard. If I ordered him hard he’d probably manage it, but with orders not to get hard, I wasn’t terribly concerned.
Viper had told me Clay often allows for power exchange while he works, but if he gets a lot of hesitation from the sub, or has the idea the Top is an asshole, he doesn’t. He stressed it was totally Clay’s call, but he figured it would all work out.
“I brought a wiffle-ball gag at Viper’s suggestion,” I told him. “And a posture collar, so he won’t be able to look down and see what’s happening, but he’ll be able to see me. I don’t want him in the dark for this.”
He nodded and motioned for us to follow him. “I just need his bottom half available. Whether he strips all the way or partway is up to you,” he told me.
“Everything folded on the chair and then have a seat,” I told Davy, who pulled his shirt off as soon as I gave the order.
“The gyno table works best for this,” Clay said. “Subs don’t usually balk, especially when it isn’t their call.”
I nodded and found I was looking forward to seeing my boy with his feet in the stirrups.
“I’ll need him sitting up some, and not all the way back like we put the girls. You might want to go ahead and gag him and put the collar on him before he goes up.”
It didn’t take long to get him situated. Clay checked Davy’s arm before he painted Davy’s cock with the same stuff, and then he showed me four pieces of jewelry he recommended for optimal healing, stressing I could put different jewelry in once it healed.
It took a long time for Clay to draw everything out and line it up. Just before he went in with the needle, he looked up and said, “Show me your safe signal, Davy.”
Davy held his hand up and snapped his fingers a half-dozen times.
“Okay. Here we go. Your master is about to tell you how important it is that you stay still for this. He’ll tell you whether you’re allowed to make noise or not. I don’t care about that, so it’s his call.”
Davy’s eyes cut to the side to look at me, and I said, “If you move, I’ll be most displeased and you’ll be punished more harshly than I’ve ever punished you. Scream if you must, but be mindful of how loud.”
A Prince Albert is a major piercing, and Davy’s initial yowl seemed perfectly in line with how it must feel to have a needle stuck through your dick. He squeezed my hand enough it hurt, but I didn’t say anything about it.
My dick went hard, though, and I couldn’t wait to get him home so I could empty my balls into him. I figured I could stretch him out on the bed with his head dangling off the side backwards, so I could look at his freshly pierced dick while I fucked his face.
After all the time it took to measure and draw, once the needle went in, it only took a few minutes before the needle was out and the jewelry was in. Maybe not even a whole minute.
Clay spent a great deal of time going over how to care for it while it healed, danger signs of an infection, and a ton of other advice. He checked Davy’s forearm before he sprayed the stuff on my boy’s dick, and he told me I should go ahead and buy two bottles of the stuff, rather than have to come back and buy another bottle in a few weeks. So I did.
When it was time to go, I dug some loose shorts out of the bag I’d packed and told my boy, “I’ll put these on your legs before we get you down, and I’ll pull them up once you’re standing. We’ll take the collar off once the shorts are on. You aren’t allowed to touch your dick. Understood?”
He nodded and gave a rough assimilation of “Yes, Master” with the gag in, and I helped him get his legs out of the stirrups. He wasn’t locked in, as I’d have preferred, but I guess there would be legal issues with Clay piercing someone who was bound.
Viper had said it was possible to pay Clay a whole lot extra to have him come to the house and do it all as part of a scene, but I’d wanted this to be in a strange place, a true medical thing, and that meant coming here.
We got the shorts on him, his shirt back on, and I put the gag, collar, and his running pants into my bag. I paid Clay and added a huge tip, and I put Davy into the backseat of the Drake SUV.
When we arrived home, I only had him take the shirt off in the garage. He’d be in shorts until I was ready to let him see his dick. And yes, it was a power thing. No way to say it nicely. He’d signed over the rights to decide what happened to his own dick, within some boundaries, of course, but piercing was absolutely something he’d signed that I could do.
Davy needs to feel like a slave. Needs to be reminded of his status, and what better way to do this than to shove it in his face that I own his dick, not him.
People outside the lifestyle might see it as a dick move — and pun totally intended there — but in reality, I was conforming to the terms of our agreement. He wants to be the slave; I want to be the Master.
We stopped off in the playroom, where I had him stretch out on the bed, and I fucked his throat as I’d intended. I couldn’t see his dick through the shorts, but that didn’t matter. Just seeing the shape of the hardware through the thin shorts was enough to get me off in minutes, which was good because I was ready for breakfast.
So the kitchen was our next stop.
“You’ll be required to show it to me daily,” I told him while I fried the bacon and he cracked eggs into a bowl. I cut way back on carbs before a tour, so there were no biscuits or potatoes today. “No pictures, but I’ll want you to aim the phone so I can see it when we video chat. You won’t be running for a while, but crunches will be fine, and I think all your arm-day routine. We’ll have to go through the rest and figure out what you can and can’t do for the next couple of weeks.”
“He said four to eight weeks, Master.”
“I’m aware. You’re going to take extra-special care of it, so I’ll be able to fuck you all I want when I see you in five and a half weeks.” And if it wasn’t healed enough, I’d fuck his face instead of his ass, or figure out how to fuck his ass without jostling his dick around too much. If that failed, his throat would do just fine.
* * * *
Davy
Master fucked my face so many times that day, my throat and jaw were sore. Not only that, but he ordered me not to get a hard-on while he had his way with me, and fuck, even with the three orgasms I’d had that morning, my dick wanted to grow while Master used me.
I managed to stay soft, but only because he reminded me it would be a shame to have to mess up our last couple of days together with the energy of a punishment session.
Rather than make me go through my workout routines, Master stripped down so he was naked, and he did a couple-dozen or so reps of each exercise, making notations as he went about whether he thought they’d be okay or not. Basically, anything that tossed his dick around was a no-go, but a whole lot of them didn’t do that, sadly.
My dick was certainly sore and tender, and it killed me not to be able to see it, but that’s the life of a slave. I’d see it when Master was ready for me to, and not a second earlier, so I didn’t ask him to let me see it, or nag him to find out how long I’d have to wait. Odds were, the wait would be even longer if I mentioned it.
When I needed to pee, Master walked me to the bathroom, put a blindfold on me, carefully pulled my shorts down, helped me sit on the toilet, and had me pee while sitting, so no one had to touch my dick. Master washed his hands while I peed and dripped dry, and then had me stand so he could dab at the end of my dick to make sure it was dry. The blindfold didn’t come off until clean shorts were pulled up.
He told me to clean up, and that was when I saw the opened packet of sterile gauze, as well as the gauze itself. I just had to throw it away. I couldn’t see anything else that needed cleaning, but I wiped the vanity down since he’d put the gauze back on it.
When he finally took me to the playroom that evening, I thought for sure it was time for me to see it, but he tied me face up on the bondage table, arms straight over my head, and then he put a damned blindfold on me before he gently pulled my shorts off and connected my ankle cuffs so my legs were a little separated but not a whole lot.
Before he started, he told me, “Nothing sexual today, so no need for an erection. If you get hard, you’ll be in trouble.”
“I understand, Master.”
And I did. Clay said it was best if I avoided getting an erection for a couple of weeks, at least, and I figure that’s why Master did this now — so we’d only be together a few days before he was gone.
Master went into the jail cell and I heard the water running, which was probably Master washing his hands, since Clay had been so adamant that I wash my hands before I handle it, every time, even if I only need to pee. Nothing touches it that isn’t completely clean.
Master returned, gently lifted my dick, and I assumed looked at it from every angle, and then he sprayed the stuff on it.
And that was it. Different shorts went back on before the blindfold came off.
Every time I had to pee was the same as that first time — blindfolded while Master dealt with it, and then throw the gauze packaging and the gauze away, wipe the counter where it’d been.
That night, he put me on the cross in his room to spray it down, and again put me in a blindfold so I couldn’t see it when the shorts came off. He put clean shorts back on me every time, careful to not hurt my dick when he pulled them up.
Honestly, Master was probably right to keep me from seeing it, because it was tender, but it didn’t really hurt until I saw it around eleven o’clock the following evening, when it was time to do the saline spray before we went to bed.
It was pretty, sure, but damn . And it isn’t like I didn’t know what a PA looks like, but seeing one on yourself for the first time made me all dizzy, and I had to sit on the edge of the tub to keep from just sitting on the floor.
“Hey hey,” Master said, and I heard the worry in his voice. “You’re okay. No touching, remember? Tell me what you need.”
“I just need a minute, Master. I’m sorry. Fuck . It didn’t hurt too bad before. Why does it hurt now?”
He chuckled. “Maybe because you know how much easier it’ll be for me to lock your dick up when I return home from the tour in four and a half months?”
I groaned, and he kissed the top of my head. “C’mon slave. Let’s get it sprayed down and get to bed.”
He made me do it this time while he watched and gave pointers.
* * * *
Will
I was leaving at a terrible time in our budding relationship, but it couldn’t be helped. We’d be on the road four and a half months, but Davy was going to be able to come see me for a long weekend twice, which meant I’d see him again in about five weeks, and then again seven weeks later. We’d already planned to be in a hotel part of the time for one of his visits, and I had my people set up a hotel for a portion of the other one as well. They got me the penthouse suite for the second visit, taking up the entire top floor of the hotel, which meant I could lay into him without anyone around to hear.
We were starting in California and working our way east, which meant most all of our things were already there waiting for us, and we’d take a plane out the day before the first concert and then ride the bus back, city by city by city.
I was tempted to have Davy fly out there with us and then ride back in the empty plane with Heather, our favorite pilot, but it made more sense to rip the Band-Aid off and get our goodbyes handled here, at home.
My last two days were a whirlwind, but I fucked Davy’s mouth every chance I got, knowing it’d be weeks before my dick was inside him again.
And I grew to enjoy fucking him with his head hanging off the edge of the bed. It was a different angle than I was used to, but it wasn’t just the novelty of it. The angle just fucking worked.
If you put an ice pack in the refrigerator instead of the freezer, it’s cold but not dangerously so. Which means I could settle two small packs meant for an eye on either side of his balls, bind his ankles together to hold the packs in place, and then be absolutely certain he wouldn’t get an erection while I fucked his throat.