Chapter 9
The next few days developed a fairly steady routine for all three of them.
During the day, Megan trained with Susannah to try and learn the skills of a good dominatrix while they adhered to Malachi’s strict morning regimen of trying to kill Justice with boredom.
At around noon, they would head to the gym where they did cardio for an hour, lifted weights for an hour, and then trained in self-defense and learned a new technique for killing someone every day.
Joy.
Like he needed to know how to kill somebody?
Knowledge like that was probably dangerous for somebody like him.
His psychiatrist probably wouldn’t condone that type of skill.
After gym time, Justice was rewarded with a phone call with Megan for about an hour and then two hours of alone time which tended to drive him absolutely nuts.
By the time they ate their dinner at six, he was damn near a basket case in desperate need of a strait-jacket due to the excitement jacking through his veins as he waited for the eight o’clock tick that meant they got to visit the sex room.
Malachi frowned at him when he called it the sex room but he enjoyed aggravating Malachi, so he kept calling it just that.
Their sessions had been what Malachi referred to as fairly vanilla but his ass referred to it as ‘what the fuck are you doing to me’.
He’d been spanked with the paddle, flogger, whip, and crop and he was pretty sure his ass was now a permanent shade of burning red.
Most of the furniture, he’d found, pretty much resulted in the same end…
him being strapped down into a humiliating but arousing position that gave Malachi access to places he loved to torment.
The dildos had gotten larger, but still nothing that made the stretch feel like more than a slightly uncomfortable burn.
Thank Jesus, he hadn’t attempted to go anywhere near his ass with his cock.
He still struggled with that one.
Not as much as the day before or the day before that but still enough to make him think he might spew out his safe word if it started to happen.
The insecure part of him…
the part he battled with daily, wondered if there was something wrong with him that made Malachi not want him that way.
He knew Malachi was bisexual, so what was wrong with his ass?
Ah, the daily internal battle was a never ending struggle for him.
To be fucked, or not to be fucked…
that was the question.
He poured his second bowl of cereal and continued to contemplate his new life.
Megan?
She was fucking hot and he was pretty sure she was maybe, just maybe, a tad meaner than Malachi when it came to handing out discipline.
Shit, the things she threatened to do to him…
they made his balls shrivel up and scream in tiny cartoon voices.
Seriously?
Was she jerking his chain about putting shit in his cock, just messing with him for her own entertainment or did they really think that shit was going to happen?
Hell, she didn’t have a cock.
She didn’t know how scary it was to just hear those threats…
much less consider carrying them out!
Justice slurped in another spoonful of Fruity Pebbles, colored milk dribbling down his chin, and stared at Malachi.
The man, all gloriously hot with his iron-calm control, was like a fucking machine.
Everything about him, all things mental and physical, was conducted through strict precision, never wasting an extra ounce of unneeded movement or energy.
His eerie calmness was the biggest fucking turn-on of all.
Unless securely tied with Malachi’s ropes and sex furniture, he never felt calm.
Calm, that was one of the first beauties Malachi had introduced him to.
Sure, he loved the pain, got balls-hard, cock-weeping aroused when any instrument was used to spank his ass, but the calm…
it was fucking awesome.
When he couldn’t jitter and twitch because his binds held him completely immobile, it helped clear his mind, force him to actually pause and feel .
That was a luxury he hadn’t ever tasted before Malachi.
His cock got hard just thinking about the fact that in twelve short hours, he would be tightly secured in some vulnerable position, taking whatever Malachi and Megan wanted to give him.
“You are seriously making me regret the Fruity Pebble reward,” Malachi growled at his breakfast partner.
Watching his kid eat was a fucking chore, wearing him out from the boundless, often messy, energy swirling all around.
He found himself torn between wanting to spank his ass or lick the milk off his chin.
It worried him.
A submissive, at least none of his submissives, had ever been viewed as anything other than a plaything that, if they were skilled at all, could offer a few hours of erotic fun.
He sure as hell had never considered licking any sort of food off their bodies.
Those acts of…
whatever the hell those acts were…
had been reserved only for Megan.
Justice swallowed hard and swiped his tongue across his bottom lip.
“Don’t take my Fruity Pebbles, man,” he pleaded.
“That would be above and beyond the cruel level.” He blinked sweetly because he knew it drove Malachi insane.
“Wipe your chin.”
He almost used his shirt sleeve, but Malachi’s glare caused him to rethink that decision really quickly.
“How long have you and Megan been together?”
“A little over a year,” he answered, surprising both of them with his openness.
“As you know, we met under some pretty dark circumstances. She’s been through a lot.”
“She says you’ve been through a lot,” Justice countered.
Since agreeing, embarrassingly eagerly so, to train to be a shared submissive for both Malachi and Megan, he had learned a lot about what Malachi liked to do in the sex room…
and more personal things about Megan.
She openly shared her life with him, asking him questions about his past and what he wanted in the future.
Malachi had shared once…
and that had been the end of that.
Megan had told him even more about Victor’s compound, her kidnapping, and her and Jasper’s rescue from their hell.
While Dom Malachi’s lips were tightly sealed when it came to personal things, Domme Megan’s lips shared everything.
Domme Megan’s lips would look fucking awesome wrapped around his cock.
He really hoped they got to do shit like that.
Malachi snorted.
“I’m hard. I was bred and born from that vile filth, it’s part of me…not Megan. She’s all sunshine and puppy dogs with floppy ears and happy drool. She tasted that hell and didn’t let it touch her soul. It owns my soul.”
Justice didn’t have a clue what to say, couldn’t begin to know a way to make that sadness disappear from his Dom.
He couldn’t believe the man didn’t see himself as the embodiment of sheer perfection…
like he viewed him.
“You’re not like that…not dark and evil like Victor and Nicholas.”
Malachi’s strangely colored violet eyes stared at him for a few long, uncomfortable seconds before he finally answered, “Let’s see if you still feel that way after tonight’s session, pet. It’s time to…ramp it up a bit, don’t you think?”
Justice felt his mouth go dry.
“I thought we might already be jacked straight off the ramped-up scale, man. Are you talking about maybe inching up another fraction? Because I might be maxed out.”
Malachi smiled and winked.
“You can tell me if we ‘inched up a fraction’ after we’re finished with the session tonight. How does that sound?” He stood up and carried his dishes to the sink, rinsed them, and carefully placed them in the dishwasher like he did every day of his life.
He enjoyed, probably more than he should, how much his structure irritated the kid.
“Are you ready to hit the gym? Somebody needs to work extra hard today to burn all that sugar off their ass.”
“I don’t like that chair,” Justice said almost as soon as they entered the playroom and saw that the exam chair had been moved to where it rested not-so-innocently in front of the television screen where Megan already waited for them.
A frown marred his face as he stared at the contraption like it was the devil incarnate.
As his eyes darted between the chair and the television screen, it wasn’t hard to see he was conjuring up images of how he would look to Megan, spread and strapped securely into the chair.
Every vulnerable part of him would be exposed to the web cam and, even more disturbing, to whatever Malachi had planned for him.
“You haven’t tried the chair yet, pet,” Malachi countered dryly.
Just watching his boy struggle mentally was fucking arousing.
He had scared subs before, intimidated them to the point that their bodies literally trembled uncontrollably, but never had another affected him the way Justice was.
He wanted to push his limits just so he could watch him crumble and succumb.
Frown deepened.
“I’m not sure I want to, Sir.”
“Did I warn you that things were going to be more intense tonight?”
“Yes, Sir.” Justice felt his frown deepen.
“I mean, it’s…it’s a woman’s exam chair, right?” Big blue eyes blinked slowly.
“I am so not a woman. Don’t do this to me.”
Malachi signed, loving the dance.
“Trust me, pet, it isn’t a woman’s exam chair.” He was shaking his head innocently from side to side.
“There isn’t a woman’s exam chair built that would be strong enough to hold you completely still, trapped tightly in those restraints, as I do whatever the fuck I want to your deliciously tight body. This beauty is a man’s chair. Trust me.”
The boy kept nibbling that bottom lip.
Malachi supposed that’s why they always looked so pouty and swollen.
The kid continuously bit and chewed, making them incredibly sexy.
“Either use your safe word or climb that pretty ass up into the chair.”
Fuck, but that Dom voice sent electric shock tremors straight to Justice’s cock.
It was deep and husky…
calming.
It was like a caress meant just for him.
“Come on, baby. Get in the chair for us,” Megan begged in a sexy voice that affected his body just as deeply but in a different way entirely.
She was playful and fun.
With Megan, he never doubted how she felt about him.
With Malachi, he doubted everything…
except for his overwhelming desire to please the man.
“Shit,” he grumbled as he obediently climbed onto what could best be described as a souped-up gynecological chair.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Malachi bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
He caught Megan’s eye and she winked in his direction.
They’d know this would be tough on their lover boy.
“Feet in the stirrups,” he ordered.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Justice could not have felt more ridiculously emasculated if his very life had depended on it.
He knew his face had to be the brightest shade of red in the crayon box…
and he meant the really big crayon box.
Malachi’s fucking smirk wasn’t helping matters either.
The evil bastard was enjoying his discomfort way too much.
“Maybe if you didn’t have to say ‘stirrups’, I wouldn’t feel like it was a woman’s exam table. Sir.”
“Very nice,” Malachi praised as he secured his pet’s ankles into the stirrup latches.
Dante had special ordered the chair, having it built to be able to accommodate a man’s powerful struggles and still hold him firmly in place for the wicked delights planned by their master.
The pulse at the base of Justice’s neck was fluttering wildly and the kid was about to bite a gash into his bottom lip with his nervous chewing.
Poor kid, he had no idea just how uncomfortable things were going to get for him before their session ended.
Justice’s ability to enjoy pain and humiliation left him with no doubts his pet would take every bit of what they had planned for him.
The boy could take pain better than any sub or Dom he had never known.
His desire to submit and please was intoxicating.
His hand stroked a muscled calf, upward to a firm, strong thigh, and then, finally he cupped his pet’s heavy balls, already swollen with arousal.
His firm grip massaged them, testing their weight, rolling them in his palms until he heard the delightful sound of ankles jerking against their binds as his pet squirmed and struggled against his restraints.
“Easy, pet,” he said in a hushed voice.
His hand left the tight balls to wrap the leather straps around his knees, securing them to the chair.
Next a strap, thick and sturdy, was wrapped around a trim waist and then he topped off the restraints by clamping wrists to arm rests.
“Beautiful,” he praised as he worked, pausing from time to time to admire his handy work.
The kid was fucking gorgeous…
got more gorgeous every fucking day.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asked pleasantly, knowing how bad Justice probably thought it was.
It was only going to get worse.
Right now, Malachi’s body was positioned so that it blocked Megan’s view on the camera.
Once he stepped away, the boy’s heart rate would most certainly jackhammer.
Justice glared at the man he called master.
He was pretty sure he wanted to punch him right in his smiling face right now.
“Ah, yea, it’s pretty fucking bad, Sir,” he quipped.
His hands tested the wrist restraints, knowing it would offer him some semblance of calm.
The security he felt just from being bound was hard for him to understand.
He only knew the ropes, chains, and leather restraints eased the throbbing tension that always flowed through his mind.
“Why is it bad, pet? Are your restraints too tight? The chair cushions not soft enough for your delicate ass?” Malachi mocked playfully.
“Asshole,” Justice grumbled, feeling his face flame.
“You damn well know why it’s bad.”
Justice could only describe the smile that spread across Malachi’s face as pure, undiluted evil.
Tormenting and humiliating him had to be the bastard’s favorite pastime…
and submitting to the torment and humiliation was his favorite pastime.
“Yes. Yes, I suppose I do.” He stepped back and then to the side of his properly trussed-up pet, finally giving Megan her first erotic glance.
Pleased with her sexual purr of approval, he slowly skirted around the chair until he stood behind Justice, massaging his tight shoulders.
“So tight, pet. Relax for me. What do you think, Meg? How beautiful does our sweet sub look all tied up in our sex chair, nervously waiting for the fun to begin?”
“He looks magnificent, baby, absolutely gorgeously magnificent. Almost perfect,” she purred.
Justice couldn’t quite meet her eyes.
Early in their scenes, before his endorphins took over and conquered his inhibitions and shyness, facing Megan, letting her witness his debauchery, was painfully hard to do.
More than anything, that pushed his limits.
“Almost? Almost perfect?” Malachi questioned with an arch of his brow.
“Whatever could make our pet look sexier than he does right now?”
“Please don’t answer that,” Justice begged beneath his held breath.
He wasn’t exactly sure how, but he knew things for him were about to get much worse.
He waited.
He squirmed.
Well, he tried to squirm.
The restraints didn’t leave him with a great deal of squirmability.
She held up a thumb and forefinger, her smile wicked and sexier than fuck.
“Just a little wider, please,” she asked politely like she was simply ordering extra ice in her tea.
“Oh fucking shit,” Justice whined right before Malachi flipped the switch on the chair that caused it to mechanically spread its captive’s legs obscenely wide apart.
“Better?”
“A bit more?”
“Come on, guys! Not funny,” Justice argued but to no avail.
The chair started moving again, exposing his asshole, nut sack, and cock even more.
“You don’t sound very submissive tonight, baby.” Megan pointed out the obvious.
“I’m not sure you’ve properly addressed your master or Mistress one time,” she reprimanded.
“Because I’m fucking scared to shitsville,” he attempted to defend himself and then quickly added, “Mistress.”
Malachi leaned down and whispered, “Do you know the difference between scared to shitsville and excited, pet? Because I think you have them confused.” He tugged on the rock hard cock resting against Justice’s flat stomach to prove his point.
The fucking bastard read him like a book.
He savored the pain…
and the peaceful calm that always accompanied it and Malachi damned well knew it and didn’t hesitate to exploit it.
Just watching those strong hands, fingers long and skilled, play with his cock caused pre come to leak from his slit and drop onto his stomach, making a sticky mess that made it impossible for him to deny his arousal.
“Maybe, Sir,” he admitted because there wasn’t any way in hell to sell the other lie.
“Safe word, pet?” Malachi asked.
“Never.” When Malachi glared down at him, he quickly amended his answer to, “Only if the pain becomes too much, Sir.” Malachi kept warning him about the dangers of him being unwilling to use his safe word.
“Your Mistress and I want to use some new, more intense toys on you tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”
Malachi carefully watched his pet, measuring his physical and mental reactions to the erotic threat hanging in the air between the three of them.
Eyes darkened a fraction and a beautifully aroused cock wept a tasty fluid.
He had learned his pet was stimulated by words…
dirty promises of what was to come.
While watching, he had been lightly pinching nipples, teasing them to hardened nubs, enjoying how they appeared to darken in shade as they begged for clamps.
Well, who was he to deny a nipple when it asked so beautifully?
“These, you are used to,” he said as he pulled the clamps from his pocket and, after tweaking each nipple with his thumb, secured them into place.
Dipping his head, he licked the nubs until he was rewarded with a moan and hiss.
“The rest will be new…a test of what you are capable of handling.”