New Leather (5 page)

Finally, James looked at his watch and closed the cabinets. “We still have some time before we eat. Relax for a while. Read, check your phone for messages or write something in your journal.”

“Sure, I will see you at dinnertime then.” Carl headed for the door,

“Don't forget to take care of the enema before you come to the table.”

“Yes sir.”

Leading Carl into the playroom this evening was easier than yesterday. A full day of togetherness gave the two men a chance to bond as friends, so trusting James should come more naturally. In addition, the afternoon spent inspecting the items in the playroom took some of the mystery out of them.

James unbuttoned his shirt and slid the belt from his slacks before walking toward the big wooden ‘X’ a medieval dungeon might have held. He turned to Carl, “Remove the pants.”

As sentences went, it was not much of a turn on, but it still had the power to send the blood racing to Carl's cock. Whether it was the solemn tone of his voice or the words themselves, marking the start of the scene, he didn't know. Either way, the boy was instantly hard and he stripped quickly.

James simply looked his fill, enjoying the sight of his sub naked and aroused, before gesturing to the St. Andrews cross. “Stand in front of the cross, Carl, facing away from it.” Once Carl was in place, “What is your safeword?”

“Red, sir.”

“Good. Today we are going to going to turn pain into pleasure.” Carl's limbs twitched as he cuffed him to the cross. “I assure you, you will be able handle this. I won't take you further than you can go.”

“I know, sir. I just can't help the tiny twinge of... abject fear.”

James hid a smile as he finished with the cuffs. Always the wiseguy, his boy. “That's what makes this fun— your fear and my control of it. Exhilarating, isn't it?”

That got him a huff of laughter. “Yeah, exhilarating, exactly the word I was looking for.”

“I don't want you to come until I say you may. Tell me if your climax is going to get away from you and I will help you to obey. Do you understand?”

“I understand, sir.”

James pulled a small metal cart near and collected various objects from the cabinets to place on it. Cock ring, a basket of clothespins and lube. While the clothespins, and what their presence meant, distracted Carl, he began to rub his hands all over the restrained man. He touched every inch of Carl to awaken his skin. Light teasing strokes alternated with deep massages or quick pinches.

After several minutes of this, Carl's natural sensuality took over and he pushed into the touches as much as he could. The effect was similar to a cat begging to be petted. James kept one hand gently coaxing a tiny nipple to stand and reached for a clothespin with the other. Carefully, he captured the nub in its grip.

Carl gasped. “Holy hell!” he cried as he pressed back against the cross.

James poured some lube into his hand and worked Carl's genitals, bringing his shaft back to fullness. At the same time, he teased the other nipple into peaking before getting another pin.

“Oh.” Carl was panting now, struggling to process the second small pain.

James waited, still fondling his cock and balls, for Carl to seek his touch again. “You are doing fine, Carl. The pain is not too great, is it? In fact, it adds to the pleasure, doesn't it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you want more?”

“I think so. I... yes sir.”

One at a time, James added clothespins to Carl's torso until there were three lined up over each pectoral muscle from the nipples toward the armpits. Carl, at this point, made no more protests other than the moans when a new pin would pinch his skin. The hand stroking Carl's erection never let up, keeping him hard and leaking.

“Sir! I'm gonna come!” Carl's hands were twisting, trying to break free.

“No, not yet, Carl.” He pulled down on the balls in his hand to slow his boy's climax. Christ, but Carl was beautiful like this! Flushed with arousal and squirming under the duel assault of pain and pleasure, he exceeded all of James’ expectations.

Quickly, because Carl was too close to keep from coming again— he took the pins off his willing victim.

“Good fucking god!” The pain was worse than when the damned things went on and Carl thrashed on the cross. In spite of that, he felt his climax rise again. “Sir! James! I can't... ”

“I know, boy, I know.” The older man opened his slacks and stepped close to Carl. He could feel James’ cock hitting his, both of them dripping pre-cum. The flexing of his tormenter's hips ground them together. “Come,” he said and bent to suckle at one of Carl's tits.

“Ahhhhh.” The top of his head came off in the midst of all the stimulation. James’ mouth was a finely tuned instrument of torture and his dick was on fire with his orgasm. It seemed to last forever as his head fell back into the vee of the cross. Just as he thought it might be over, James switched sides and another stream of fluids pumped out of him to dribble onto his belly and the floor.

He was limp in the restraints, spent, when James stepped away. The Dom released his feet and he hoisted himself up to relieve the pressure on his arms while James unbuckled them as well. He looked down and saw that the man had not yet come.

“Over to the mat.” James voice was the one straining now.

He turned his head to find it and staggered to it with his lover's help. They sank to the gym mat and James pushed him onto his back. He watched as the other man coated his cock in lube. No longer opposing what he knew was about to happen, he raised his knees.

“Good boy.”

He didn't even care if that made him sound like a damned dog— he basked in the praise. James was pleased and that was all that mattered.

“Carl!” No one ever said his name like that before as he held him in his arms, letting the man take satisfaction from his body. The sudden contractions of James’ penis, signaling his release deep inside, gave Carl an ease of spirit. The contentment he felt was new to him.

James rolled off him and composed himself before checking Carl's wrists and ankles. The marks on his chest were still bright pink, but there was no swelling. Absently massaging the spots, James leaned in to kiss him. “You found something out about yourself tonight, I think.”

“What the hell just happened, James? No shit, I honestly don't know what to think right now.” Even now, he was arching into the fingers rubbing the abused skin.

“We all have the capacity to be aroused by the small pains our lovers inflict. Love bites and nail scratches come to mind, but some of us want more. Some of us need more. It would seem you need more.”

“James, I've never felt a burning need to be tortured. I would remember something like that.”

“Never got rough with a lover?”

“Well... ”

“Pain and pleasure are kissing cousins. Keeping you sexually stimulated throughout the clothespin torture made the entire experience one of great pleasure because you could no longer tell the difference. It all felt good.”

“You could get this reaction from anyone, then?”

“No. Personal taboos and thresholds prevent that. You are emotionally open to what we're doing.”

“And I have a high tolerance to pain. I always have.”

“Exactly. I would also imagine your work puts you in harm's way on occasion and that you like that sense of danger.”

“Yeah.” Carl sighed.

James kissed him again— this time lingering and Carl savored the taste. “It does not make you a freak, Carl.” He whispered. “It gives you the ability to do your job and now, it gives you sexual fulfillment.”

Sunday morning was much the same as Saturday morning had been. A leisurely rub off-of their morning erections that James dubbed the ‘bump and grind’ was followed by showers (today's pants were really shorts and had stars and moons) and breakfast. Susan had Sundays off so James made the most incredible waffles and Carl took care of the clean up.

It was nice just spending time together like this, something else that Carl had not expected. He really thought that the Dom/sub thing was all the time. It appeared that way between Mike and Seve, but while James was directing their activities, he was not being overt about it. Carl never felt pushed or restricted by his host's schedule.

Later, instead of the jog, they went down to the basement where the gym was located. Carl burst out laughing.

“I know, it's not state of the art, but it gets the job done.” James defended the stark room. The contrast to the playroom made it obvious which he preferred. All the equipment had that well-used look that told the story of how James maintained his physique, but the walls were bare cement and the sound system was a CD player in the corner.

“At least you put some rugs down.” Carl sat at the weight bench. “Spot me?”

“I'm thinking of adding a gymnastics mat or two.” He waited a beat as he walked to the head of the bench. “I might put one in every room.”

Carl laughed again at his lover's sly grin. “In that case, I'm buying stock in lube.”

The time flew as they joked, perspired over the machines and checked out each other's muscles. Sure, muscles.

Both men were hot and sweaty at the end of a grueling two hours when James declared enough. They retired to their rooms to clean up, for Carl this meant “inside and out,” before an early dinner sent from Pauly's Point.

While they ate, James explained what he wanted to do tonight. “I think we will take it easy on the physical games. You don't want to go to work tomorrow bruised and aching.”

“I suppose not. So, what are we doing?” Carl felt almost debonair in the black scrubs he wore. His Dom had something special in mind and he found himself looking forward to the scene, whatever it was.

“Submitting to someone is more than just allowing him to do things to you. It comes from a desire to please him— his will guides yours. You will do whatever he asks, knowing he will take care of you.” James smiled enigmatically. “Clear the dishes and then meet me in the playroom.” He left Carl alone with his curiosity.

The dishes were in the washer and the table wiped down in record time. Carl opened the door to the playroom and stopped inside the doorway. The room was in total darkness.

“Step over to the bench, Carl.” A lone spotlight came on illuminating the bench. Both the source of the light and James’ voice came from the right side of the room while the bench now sat in the center.

He went to the bench, feeling uncomfortable in the light. “Am I supposed to do a song and dance routine?”

“That is your last smart remark of the evening. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. To answer your question, yes, you are going to put on a show for me, Carl.” Soft, guitar music began to play. The sultry, Spanish tune added to the tension in the room. “I want you to strip and then touch yourself.”

“Sir?”

“Masturbate for me, Carl. Show me how sexy you are.”

Carl could not believe this. Of all the things he'd done this weekend, this was going to be the most difficult. Reluctantly, he pulled the string at his waist and hooked his thumbs in the band.

“Slowly, Carl.”

He sighed. Of course, his evil Dom wanted to drag this out. He shimmied out of the black scrubs.

“Turn so I can see you.”

Carl faced the light, squinting. “I feel stupid, sir.”

“Am I stupid, Carl?”

“What? No sir!”

“Then you cannot feel stupid doing what I ask of you.”

“Perhaps if you explained why I'm doing this... ”

“Because I require it, Carl.” He heard James shifting on the room's only upholstered chair. “I want to watch you pleasure yourself. I want to see everything you do. If you touch your cock, face me. If you touch your ass, turn so I can see that.”

Carl groaned. This was worse than he thought. If his face got any hotter, his head would explode.

“Listen to the music. You have a natural rhythm, use it.” The voice became husky. “Make me want you.”

James could twist it any way he wanted, but Carl still felt stupid. Closing his eyes, he swayed to the seductive guitar and let his hands roam. Pinching the tiny nubs of his tits brought a flush to his face as he remembered hanging on the cross. He did it again and knew his dick was rising in spite of the awkward situation. His hands moved down to his abs to rub his belly until he heard James sigh. Time to get serious.

The first touch to his cock made it jump in his hand. He could do this. He'd been doing it for decades, for Christ's sake! It was an art form, really. The right grip with that little turn of the wrist at the end. A thumb across the slit. The squeeze. Back down to start over. Yeah, this was good.

Under his own harsh breathing and the throbbing music, he could hear James stir on his seat. Carl pictured his lover stroking his own erection as he watched him. God! He wished he could see James. He was rock hard thinking about it and instinctively reached back to massage his hole.

“Carl... ”

That's right. He had to show his audience what he was doing. Carl opened his eyes and stepped back to hop onto the bench. He brought one foot up on the padding beside his butt and leaned back a little. Now, he was completely exposed to James. He reached down again.

James held his breath as Carl pushed a spit-wet finger into the tight sphincter of his ass. Carl was amazing. He hadn't been sure his experiment in psychological dominance would work, but once again, Carl was proving to be a perfect sub. His embarrassment forgotten, he was even looking straight to where he thought James sat. The look of hunger on his face was as flattering as it was arousing.

James felt for the controller and pressed the next button. Immediately a light fell on the little cart. Upon it sat a glass-beaded dildo, already lubed.

Carl stared at the toy for a moment then reached out for it. He gave his cock a last squeeze, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck the drop of pre-cum off them. Running on pure instinct, Carl personified sex.

James had the bench angled so when Carl laid back on it, his ass was visible and all he had to do was turn his face toward the light and the voyeur.