“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?”
Xavier laughed. “Did you just speak?”
Carson opened his mouth, then shut it.
“Was that an apology?”
“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.”