CHAPTER 12
Zeke
Almost the minute Jamie got Greg’s number, she came up with some excuse as to why she had to leave.
Something about forgetting she was supposed to meet a friend at the library.
I knew it was bullshit, but I didn’t bother to stop her.
I had other things on my mind, and they involved two naked masochists.
“Once you’ve cleaned up,” I told the pretty boy, “I want you to meet me in the basement.” I turned to the cowboy. “And you go shower, then come down there.”
While they took care of their assigned tasks, I headed down to the basement.
Not only was it my home gym, it also held a few toys I’d acquired over the years.
Granted, I had yet to use my personal stash of torture devices on anyone because I did not bring submissives to my house to play.
Before the cowboy and the pretty boy, only one submissive had ever been in my personal space, but that was years ago.
Before I’d decided to beef up my personal playroom.
I flipped on the music but kept it out of the ear-bleeding range while I got a few things set up for my new fuck toys.
Ever since my encounter with the pretty boy last night, I’d been eager to get my hands on the cowboy.
I’d sent him to bed without touching him, despite the desperate urge I’d had.
It was imperative that I show restraint when it came to them.
Otherwise, they would get the wrong impression. And I was nothing if not controlled.
The pretty boy came down first, his eyes widening when he took in the space.
“This setup is impressive,” he said, his gaze rolling over the racks of weights and the various machines I’d purchased. “Gym-quality machines?”
I nodded. I figured the pretty boy might approve, considering his career choice. The man’s entire life was built around helping people get into the best shape they could.
“You’ve got everything you need here,” he said absently. “You don’t go to a gym?”
“No. Not a fan of people wanting to sit around and chat.” When I worked out, I worked out.
I spent a few hours down here almost every day.
Not only because I was intent on maintaining my physique, but also because it allowed me to clear my head.
Some people used alcohol, drugs, or some other vice to chase the demons away. I used weights.
“You’ve put a lot of thought into the setup,” he said, his eyes still scanning the room.
“Glad you approve,” I said blandly. “Now I want you naked.”
He nodded. His gaze continued to bounce around the room as he removed his jeans, laying them over one of the nearby workout benches.
Good thing for him that wasn’t the sort of bench I was interested in using today. Nope, we would be getting one hell of a workout, but it wouldn’t be with weights.
I removed a cloth cover I kept over my most recent purchase—a steel spanking bench that I’d found online from a company that custom-built BDSM equipment.
The A-frame legs were sturdy, designed to handle the abuse they would undoubtedly endure.
It was magnificently designed, with roughly two dozen hooks that would allow me to restrain my toy in any way that I saw fit.
The pretty boy’s eyes shifted to the bench, but he didn’t say a word.
“This isn’t for you,” I informed him, noticing his disappointment. “Don’t worry. You’ll enjoy what I’ve got in store.”
After going into the closet and retrieving a set of iron cuffs, I motioned the pretty boy to follow me. I hooked the heavy iron manacles to a set of chains I had fixed to the concrete wall. I’d installed the hooks myself, so I knew they would hold up to damn near anything.
“Put your back to the wall,” I instructed.
The pretty boy got into position, and I fixed the cuffs to his wrists, then pulled the chains until his arms were spread out to his sides, as taut as I could get them without pulling.
I did the same with his ankles, forcing his legs wide.
I wasn’t using the cheesy padded leather restraints that would ensure his comfort for this scene.
That wasn’t my style. I had no intention of ensuring he was comfortable.
I stood tall and stepped up to him, gripping his jaw between my fingers, then held up a small, round bell so he could see.
“As you probably remember, I’m not giving you a safe word. However, if something goes wrong, I do expect you to inform me. Since you won’t be able to speak, this will be your only way of signaling if there’s a problem.”
His eyes shot to the bell. Once he got a good look at it, I tucked it into his right hand. It was small, but loud enough to be effective.
“Should you need to stop the scene, ring it. But it better be because you’re bleeding or about to lose a limb.” I shot him a malevolent grin. “If I hear that bell for any other reason, you will be punished. So I suggest you don’t drop it.”
His eyes were already glazing over, his desire evident. “Yes, Zeke.”
I’d noticed the pretty boy had been quiet for most of the morning.
While he had engaged with my sister, he hadn’t spoken directly to me.
I couldn’t quite read his body language yet, but I didn’t peg him for the strong, silent type.
Which meant he was likely adjusting to his new surroundings, attempting to figure out what I had in store for him.
I left him cuffed to the wall while I retrieved the other items I needed for him.
“Since the day I met you, I’ve thought about this,” I told him as I held up the thick, stainless-steel ring. “Do you know what it is?”
“A cock ring,” the pretty boy said, his breaths coming in a little faster.
“It’s called a crown of thorns,” I explained, holding it there so he could admire. “Each of these little screws has a point on it. Once it’s in place, I’ll show you what it feels like.”
A minute later, I was working the steel ring over the head of his cock.
It took a minute to get it in place because he was already semi-hard.
This was a particularly fun toy to play with.
The steel circle had six holes drilled through, where tiny, pointed screws were threaded, the sharp ends providing a similar sensation to the parachute harness I’d used last night.
Only this was applied directly to his cock, just beneath the head.
The pinpricks would stimulate the nerves in his dick, enhancing his torture.
“Relax,” I instructed. “Think about algebra because I need you soft for a minute.”
“Not sure I can do that, Zeke,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re touching my dick and … well, that kinda does it for me.”
I chuckled at his honesty. Even in a situation like this, the pretty boy kept his wits. He would be fun to play with.
Knowing I wouldn’t have much time before he was rock hard, I worked the ring in place with lube, ensuring it was secure. The metal thorns were currently retracted, so he wouldn’t feel them yet; however, the weight of the ring would be enough to keep his attention.
When I stood to my full height, I held up the small hex key that was used to tighten the screws. “Hold this for a minute.” I placed it between his teeth. “Don’t drop it.”
I headed back into the closet to get the last item I would use to torture the pretty boy with. I was coming out when I heard footsteps on the stairs. The cowboy appeared, his hair still wet from his shower. His eyes went wide when he noticed the pretty boy already chained to the wall.
“Strip and then come here,” I commanded as I made my way back to the pretty boy.
A minute later, the cowboy was by my side, both of us admiring my handiwork.
“He does make quite the art piece, huh?” I said casually.
“That he does,” the cowboy confirmed.
Admittedly, the pretty boy was damn nice to look at.
Thick and muscular, his body was meant to be on display.
The way his biceps bunched as he shifted his arms, his thick thighs flexed when he attempted to shift his weight.
I could probably stand there and look at him all damn day.
From the alluring lines of his body to his sinfully beautiful cock.
“Tease his nipples until they’re hard,” I instructed the cowboy. “With your fingers, then your mouth.”
“Yes, Zeke,” the cowboy said obediently.
I stepped back and watched as the cowboy moved closer.
Their eyes met, and I could see the desire they ignited in one another.
I was curious as to how two masochists had ended up together, but when I looked at them, it seemed rather obvious.
They had a distinct physical attraction to one another, but there was something more. A connection.
The cowboy’s fingers plucked the pretty boy’s nipples as they stared back at one another.
I found I liked that they had a connection.
It meant scenes such as this one would have more of an impact on both of them.
BDSM was as much mental as it was physical.
Being that they cared about one another, they would likely have issues with the other being taken by a man like me.
The concern for the other’s well-being would be pivotal in the outcome.
The cowboy touched with the care of someone who knew what his partner enjoyed. He didn’t hesitate to apply the necessary pain to get the pretty boy groaning in earnest. He wasn’t rough, and he didn’t tweak the pretty boy’s nipples the way I would have, but he was getting the job done.
When he leaned forward and bit the pretty boy’s nipple, my cock hardened. Strangely, I enjoyed watching one give the other pain. It was an aphrodisiac. Not quite as rewarding as doing it myself, but I could get used to this.
I gave them a minute before I stepped in.
With the precision of a man who was familiar with his own toys, I hooked the nipple clamps to the pretty boy, ensuring they were secured. These weren’t the cheap little tweezer clamps that would fall off. These were stainless-steel nipple vises. Exactly what the pretty boy needed.