Xavier
gave Carson a grin. This part was always delicious, though usually he
savored it with a much more willing opponent.
“I’m
going to ask things of you. And you’re not always going to want to
do them.” He chuckled. “Well, in your case, I guess the truth is,
you’re desperately going to want to not do them. But you should
know before we start, that I’ll never ask anything from you, unless
I have a much less bearable alternative in mind. Meaning, you should
always do what I ask, the first time I ask. Because I promise you, if
I do the alternative, you’ll be really sorry.”
Pobrecito.
Tears already welling up.
“Are
you thirsty?”
Carson
looked at the bottle of water, and nodded.
“You
may remove your gag. But no speaking, or I won’t be so nice again
any time soon.”
Xavier
watched Carson fumble around the gag with his one free hand until he
got it loose and pulled the ball from between his teeth. He worked
his jaw open and closed and from side to side for a moment, then took
the bottle when Xavier handed it to him. He emptied the whole bottle
in one go, and as soon as he was done he put his hand over his
genitals.
Warm
pleasure spread through Xavier’s chest at that sight, because it
was going to be so much fun, making him move that hand.
“I’ll
let you leave the gag out. But only until you speak. Understood?”
Carson
opened his mouth, then closed it, and nodded.
“Good.
And take your hand off your cock, unless you want me to cuff that arm
again.
Carson’s
jaw flexed against an impulse to protest. To try to shame, to beg.
But instead he moved his hand. Just enough, resting it on his thigh,
just an inch clear of his dick, lying soft and oblivious in the
crease between his thighs.
“Now,
knees up and open. Spread for me.”
It was
a limp kind of shock spreading over his face, because knowing this
was coming had been curtained off by a need to believe it couldn’t
happen. Carson didn’t move.
“Yeah,
I know. You have to test it. Even though you’re sitting there,
handcuffed to the post and helpless as fuck, you need me to show you
that you want to obey me.”
Xavier
bent down, grabbed Carson by the ankles, lifting and forcing his feet
wide apart, then stepped forward with his right foot, planting his
heel just in front of Carson’s bare ass and resting the sole of his
boot on his balls. Suddenly white as death, Carson was grasping at
Xavier’s ankle, but was helpless to push or pull his foot away.
“Don’t
look like that. Like you’re about to be castrated or something. I’m
not going to crush them, for fuck’s sake. But I might give them a
little tap, just enough to double you over. Maybe enough to make you
puke. Should I do that? Just so we don’t have to have this
conversation a second time?”
“No.”
Xavier
laughed. “Did you just speak?”
Carson
opened his mouth, then shut it.
“Was
that an apology?”
He
nodded.
“Are
you feeling more cooperative now?”
Another
fervent nod.
Xavier
took his boot off Carson’s balls, let go of his ankles, and stepped
back.
“Then
let’s try this again. Knees up and open. Spread for me.”
Face
flushed, eyes glimmering, terror going supernova at the center of his
big baby blues, he did it.
Just
the act, that obedience, that little movement did it. Heat radiated
from Xavier’s balls, down the length of his cock, out through his
core, into his limbs. Up his throat, warming his face. Sudden urge to
pounce, to devour, like a lion driven to the kill by the scent of
prey. Carson’s pretty cock so soft, so tender and vulnerable,
draped over those robust balls, neatly groomed but not stripped bare.
Aware
of Carson watching him, he let his lips part for a panting breath of
arousal. “Every time I walk into this room, I want you to display
yourself like that. Show me that your pretty pink cock, your balls,
your asshole belong to me. You
want to do that. Do you know why?”
Xavier
watched a thick, blank doubt haze the flare of fear in Carson’s
eyes before he finally shook his head.
“You
want to do that, Carson, because I’m not like your friend in the
gray suit in that video. Unlike him, I take very good care of things
that belong to me.”
