Page 26 of Justice For Me

“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,thatpushed 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?”

---