Page 41 of The Club

The doors open onto my play room, the lights coming on automatically. I feel like I’m still on that edge of orgasm. I can’t think. I can’t make any decisions. Dominic makes them instead.

He takes me to the swing. He starts undressing me. I lean against him, my face resting on his shoulder. The position feels strangely familiar. He pauses in his work. His hand strokes the back on my head.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, “but I need to punish you first.”

“Why?” I ask as he draws back and starts unhooking my corset vest.

“Because you let other men touch you,” he replies as he unzips my pants and tugs them partway down my thighs.

He guides me back, helping me onto the swing. The canvas sling hangs in a study frame, supporting my back and head, presenting my ass at the edge.

Dominic removes my shoes and socks then pulls my pants all the way off. He lifts my right leg high, settling my foot into the stirrup. He secures my ankle with the Velcro strap. He repeats the process with my other leg, opening me fully. All I can do is watch.

He doesn’t stop with that. He wraps the soft handcuffs around my wrists. Pulling my arms crosswise over my torso, he binds them to the frame, like a naked straightjacket.

Then he steps back and looks at me. I watch him through lowered eyelids. I’m breathing hard, aroused as fuck. My frustration has dissolved into resignation. I’ve given up.

Dominic removes his clothes. He’s half hard again. He picks up his jacket and starts pulling wires and straps and pads from the pockets. He pulls out a remote.

My heart skips as I realize what he’s going to do to me. He pulls the covers from two of the pads and sticks them on my inner thighs.

“Have you played with shock before?”

“Only by myself.”

His eyes close and his body rocks toward me. He likes that answer. He tugs at my full, heavy balls. I moan in relief at the contact—then he turns on the power.

The shock jolts through my system, snapping me from my resigned limbo. I strain, trying simultaneously to escape the pain and chase it. Dominic murmurs and tugs hard on my sac.

“Christ, you’re swollen,” he rasps. “Have you been horny all day?”

“Yes, you fucking prick!”

He smiles wickedly at my sudden show of temper. “There you are.”

I moan and shake and strain. Every muscle in my body is tight. The ache along my bruised ribs is intense. Dominic tugs and twists my balls and turns up the power.

My head slams back in the swing. He doesn’t stop until I’m convulsing. Tears leak from my eyes. I want out of the cage so fucking bad.

Dominic swipes the tears away. Then he brushes his thumb over the bruises on my face. He touches my split lip. He skims the bruising along my ribs, near my crossed arms.

“Who gets to hurt you?” he asks.

My throat tightens. I accuse, “You weren’t here.”

He says, “I’m here now,” and shoves two fingers in my hole as he turns on the power. He stares into my eyes as I shake and spasm and grimace through the strange mix of pleasure and pain. My ass clenches on his fingers.

He withdraws them and turns off the power. I’m so devastated by the overload of sensations that I don’t track his movements, don’t even notice when he fits a key into the lock on the cock cage.

I gasp when the ring unlatches from around my sac. I cry out in pain as he pulls the cage off my dick and blood rushes into it.

Dominic runs his hand along my thighs and rubs his thumbs over my aching balls. He notices the way I’m tightening up and pinches the head of my cock, stopping me from coming.

“Please,” I beg him.

“Who gets to hurt you, Rafael?”

“You.”

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