Page 108 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 9-12
Damian stroked Jun’s hip, offering comfort, his fingers staying still. He checked the ball in Jun’s hand. It had not moved.
“Give me your color, boy.”
Jun flexed his fingers on the hand that was not holding his safety ball. He spread two fingers, signaling green.
Good. It was more art than science to know when a sub needed to fight and when they needed to be released. He knew the struggle well. Before Richard had understood the depth of fury Damian had needed to burn through, he had sometimes released Damian too early. Those had been epic fights, the two of them rolling on the floor. Sometimes it had not been all play on Damian’s part. Sometimes he had gone places in his head, and Richard had been the only one there with him, the only one to absorb his rage.
He wasn’t reading rage in Jun’s body, only instinct and fierceness and need. He twisted his fingers. Jun thrashed. Damian pulled on the ropes, dragging Jun’s shoulders back and off the cot.
Jun growled, then whined. His head hung forward.
“Mine.” Damian squeezed Jun’s ass again, the rope wrapped around his palm.
Jun tossed his head, trying to crane around to look. He couldn’t.
Damian pulled the rope higher. Jun screamed. His entire torso trembled. Damian held it for a beat. Jun didn’t struggle. He couldn’t, but neither did he sound like he was trying to cuss behind the muzzle.
By degrees, Damian let him all the way back down. Jun lay pliant, breathing hard, blinking. There was wetness around his eyes, but he wasn’t weeping. He was alert, his eyes darting back and forth. All of his attention was on Damian even though he couldn’t see him.
“Good prey. Lying there so still. You know you’re caught, don’t you?”
Damian twisted his fingers in Jun’s hole.
Jun’s chest rose and fell, but he kept still. It wasn’t quite the still Damian was looking for, but it was still the kind of stillness Jun was willing himself to keep.
He wanted the kind of stillness that came with surrender. Grazing his fingers over Jun’s prostate, he waited for the reaction.
Jun didn’t disappoint. He flinched and pulled away.
Damian pulled up on the rope.
Jun shouted strings of inarticulate words, like he was cussing. Damian grinned. He pulled on the rope, driving his fingers harder against the nerves inside Jun’s body.
His beautiful boy thrashed, head rising and falling, legs flexing against the ropes, his shoulders jerking back and forth. The muscles of his ass squeezed Damian’s fingers as if he could snap them off. One breath, two, three, and then, just before he was going to have to ease off or risk hurting his prey, Jun’s head dropped forward and he sagged, hanging, his weight dropping onto the rope.
Damian let him down slowly. He swirled his fingers. The faintest of sighs eased out of his boy. His channel eased, and his boy pressed back, welcoming the invasion.
“There you are, pet.” Damian stroked Jun’s skin with his thumb.
He drew his fingers out slowly, reaching up to the deepest shelf. Richard had been prescient to build so many hiding places. He needed to change the bindings on Jun’s arms, but he wasn’t going to risk Jun’s headspace moving. The butt plug brushed his fingers. Useful but perhaps not sufficient. He wrapped his fingers around the speculum instead. Spreading lube over the prongs, he sank the prongs inside his boy and eased them apart.
Jun’s breath stopped.
“Breathe, pet.”
Jun’s chest rose and fell fast twice, then went back down to his normal temper. Damian stroked his back and hip, offering reassurance. When Jun was pliant again, he adjusted the aperture, spreading Jun’s hole slowly. It was barely open, not nearly wide enough for Damian’s cock, but the sensation was more important than the width. The experience of being spread open was a mind bender.
Damian fished out a small flashlight and played it over Jun’s gaping channel. “So pink and soft inside.” He pushed his finger in, touching Jun inside.
Jun made a broken sound.
Damian moved to Jun’s head. Fingers on the leather straps, warm and sweat covered now, he unbuckled the muzzle, cupping Jun’s cheek with his palm as he pulled the gag from between his lips. Jun’s lips and cheeks were wet with drool. He wiped the moisture away, massaging Jun’s cheeks, rubbing his thumb over Jun’s pink, barely swollen lips.
Still holding Jun’s face, he reached for the mouth spreader. The center was a rubber-coated O-ring. Pressing in on Jun’s cheeks, he forced Jun’s mouth open. Jun didn’t struggle or even whine as Damian slotted the ring behind his teeth. His tongue pressed against the foreign object, exploring it. Damian dragged his finger down Jun’s tongue. Jun gagged, involuntarily, but didn’t fight. Careful of Jun’s hair, Damian strapped the mouth spreader in place, buckling it closed behind Jun’s head. Then he let Jun lay flat again.
It was a lot to take in, being opened from both ends. He went back to gently stroking his boy. Soon he was going to have to release his shoulders, but he wanted him deeply submissive, the fight gone, before he tried that.
Jun whimpered, the sound louder now, for all its softness. He wiggled on his stomach toward Damian, seeking his touch.
