Page 144 of Naughty Dreams
Roy came back to DJ. He stroked the doubled over whip along DJ’s shoulders, his back, his buttocks. The fall and cracker teased and tickled. “A single tail is versatile when you know what you’re doing. You’ll keep your face toward the wall. Remember what I said about the woman in the face mask? I shouldn’t be hitting hard enough for you to lose control of your reactions, but don’t turn your face toward your shoulder to see me. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Since it’s difficult to hear a safeword while doing this, if you need a break, raise three fingers on your left hand. That’ll be hard for me to miss.”
“Boy Scout salute?”
“Only if you fold your thumb and small finger across your palm. Were you a Boy Scout?”
“No, but I’m betting you were. What does it mean?”
Roy lifted his hand, making the salute, and touched each finger in turn. “Honor. Help. Obey.”
He stepped back. DJ flexed his hands under the hold of the crisscrossed ropes. Possible costume accessories for the music video taking shape in his head flitted through. Maybe a modified glove created out of ropes, wrapped just like this. Possibly with beaded fringe that brushed the dancers’ forearms, as the fringe of his mask did against his cheeks.
Every piece of the performance should reflect the journey he’d taken with Roy, just as the words of the song would.
It would be something to remember when Roy was no longer part of his life.
Fuck that.
The whip fell against his shoulder and tumbled down his back. Roy had whisked it against him, letting DJ get familiar with the contact, and taking his head away from those unwelcome thoughts. He did it a few times, and though it was easy, almost caressing, DJ’s muscles tightened, anticipating.
The first pinpoint strike, the sound of the pop, jolted him, bringing heat and a faint sting.
It made him crave more.
Roy moved over different parts of DJ’s back like George had done with Jenna, then down to his buttocks, still covered by his jeans.
The tiny stings against his flesh started to throb, that ledge where pain and pleasure seesawed. No, not a seesaw. Two male dancers doing an intense, warlike tango on a cliff edge, coming so close to it. Would they dance off of it and tumble? Or continue to dance, because the spinning intensity was like helicopter blades, keeping them aloft?
His cock was throbbing and his hips wanted to move, like when Roy was thrusting into him. Pillows under DJ’s hips, the rasp of his chest hair against DJ’s back as he pressed down on him. This was another form of weight, a reminder of ownership.
The next round of stings was sharper. DJ arched with a slight gasp, rising on his toes. The fingers of his left hand started to rise up, but slowly, he put them down as the feeling soaked in. He could take another strike or two like that. He imagined Roy’s approval, and it fueled the desire. The determination.
When the next one landed, DJ absorbed it, his head dropping forward, breath shallow. He’d seen people fucking here, rightin front of everyone. Maybe that was part of how they got off, or maybe when they reached a point like he felt now, all that mattered was that their Dom wanted to have them, then and there.
Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.
A part of him couldn’t go quite that far, maybe because so much of his life was sacrificed to the public. Or maybe because he wanted the culmination of this experience to be just him and Roy in bed together.
He was getting really worked up. The fifth pop made him wonder if that bee sting mark would fade as quickly as Roy said. He hoped it wouldn’t.
Roy was right up behind him again. His hand went to the front of DJ’s jeans, opening the fastener, pushing down the zipper with an insistent hand. He rolled a condom over the head of DJ’s shaft before he clasped it in a firm, I-totally-own-this grip.
DJ let out a groan. Since he faced the wall, and Roy’s broad shoulders were behind him, he guessed he was mostly shielded from view by what Roy was doing. He couldn’t bring himself to tell him to stop. His hand felt too damn good.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No. But Master, I’m going to…”
“Yes, you are. Right the fuck now. Push against my cock while you do it, you gorgeous tease.”
DJ convulsed in Roy’s stroking grip, his ass shoving against Roy’s erection. DJ tried to give as much pleasure as he was getting, but when he lost control, he could only ride the ride. He released into the condom, his head falling between the cross pieces. Roy’s arm was around his chest, long fingers stroking a nipple while his other hand pumped DJ’s erection, demanding every drop.
He pushed his knee against the inside of DJ’s thigh, giving him more stability from the dizzying power of the climax, and reminding him that his legs were open because his Master required access.
As he finished, Roy kept stroking him, letting DJ twitch in his grasp. “When we get to the hotel tonight, I’m going to bury myself in you, Dory. Between your lips, then in your ass. I like your mouth making me slick enough to slide into you.”
