Page 28 of Naughty Dreams
“You to be my Master, like he is to him. Totally in control. Me trusting wherever you take us.” DJ’s fingers clenched, unclenched.
“You want to write some of those thoughts down, don’t you? Make it into music. But right now, I’m the one making music. Let’s confirm how willing you are to live up to what you say you want.”
Roy rose, and brought DJ up with him, holding onto the end of the belt, his closed hand resting on DJ’s clenched knuckles. He steadied him with his other hand, fingers wrapped around his elbow.
As he took him through the club, he saw DJ register his first experience of being looked at as a taken sub, under the control of a Master. Broadcasting the message “off limits.” The kid’s response to it, the energy vibrating from him, the heat, could have powered the club’s neon-lit dance floor.
Roy found a vacant private room, sanitized and ready for play. It wasn’t intended for more elaborate scenes, but it had everything he needed. A small bathroom, two chairs and some strategic hooks. Plus a tray with bottles of water and snacks. He stepped inside, the belt still gripped in his hand, and shut the door, giving G a nod before he did so. She’d take up a position nearby.
Roy untied the ribbons of DJ’s mask and took it off, stroking DJ’s curly hair back from those impossibly strong cheekbones. As DJ watched him with feverish yet wary eyes, Roy stepped behind him and removed the belt, rubbing his wrists. “Put your hands in front of you, wrists crossed again.”
He rebound them with the belt and unrolled a mat, after removing the white satin ribbon around it markedClean. “Lie down, and put your arms over your head. You can bend your elbows to make it more comfortable on your shoulder.”
“Should I take off the shirt?”
“Did I tell you to take off the shirt?”
“No, Sir.”
“Then do what I told you to do, the way I told you to do it.”
As DJ stretched out on the mat, his upper body arched. Roy savored every second, because nothing made him as hard as willing surrender.
“When I’m looking at you, I'm not just looking at the beauty of what I'm claiming. I'm looking for what's vulnerable to injury, to know how hard I can push you.”
“It’s better now,” DJ mentioned. “The shoulder.”
Roy nudged his thigh with his foot. “No talking unless I ask you something. When I do, you tack a ‘Sir’ on your answer.”
He dropped to his heels and felt the muscles in the area. When DJ tensed, Roy raised a brow. “But not all better. Don’t mask pain when a Master is playing with you, Dory. Your desireto serve his needs backfires if he really hurts you. Can’t play with a broken toy.”
Roy adjusted the angle of DJ’s elbow further until he felt the tight muscles ease. Then he fingered the shirt. “I didn’t give this to you. You took it. Do you take from your Master, Dory?”
“Borrowed. Just borrowed. Sir.”
“Was that an answer to the question?”
DJ’s cheeks got that red tinge Roy decided to add to the list of things that made him hard.
“No, Sir. I shouldn’t take things you haven’t given me permission to have.”
“Hmm.” Roy slipped the button of the jeans and pushed down the zipper. DJ wasn’t wearing any underwear. He stripped off the denim and laid it aside. Fucking hell, Dory was beautiful. Muscular but naturally lean, his ribs and hip bones evident. He burned off every calorie almost as soon as it was taken in, the demands of the life he’d chosen. Him working that guitar on stage, sweat on his back, went through Roy’s mind.
He wanted to taste all the tanned skin, the hollow of his elbow, his throat, his chest and stomach, suck on the erect cock and make him beg.
Roy stood up. “Spread your legs out farther.”
Roy stepped between them and stared down at him. He’d worn belted jeans and a short sleeve button down, the fabric soft against his body. He knew he looked damn good in jeans, particularly at the angle DJ was viewing. The kid’s avid regard confirmed it.
Roy’s gaze passed over twitching thigh muscles, the turgid cock, arched chest, and tense lips. He lingered on DJ’s feverish eyes, then did the same visual cycle again. And again. All while standing over him in a position of uncontestable ownership.
The twitches became jerks, his cock wanting to fuck the air. DJ worked to lock his hips down, anticipating that his Master expected him to control himself.
Roy picked up theCleanribbon. Dropping to his heels, he wrapped it around DJ’s erect cock. He pulled it taut, then let it loosen, making a spiral around the shaft.
Each time he repeated the action, the breath left DJ in a convulsive rush. Roy tied the ribbon under the ridge of the head, putting pressure on the frenulum and stood, spooling out the ribbon so he could idly tug on the tether he’d created between his hand and DJ’s cock.
“Don’t move, Dory.”
