Chapter 4

With the flights and the waiting time, they had only two days in France, but seeing Wesley’s happiness made all the exhaustion of the travel worth it.

His first time on a plane, Wesley clutched Connor’s hand in a bone-shattering grip during take-off, but he soon came to love it. Once there, they dropped their bags at the hotel and went exploring. They walked hand in hand along the Champs-Élysées and kissed in front of the Victory Arch. They watched the lights go on in the Eiffel Tower, and ate in cozy little overpriced restaurants. And they made love on the new, hard mattress of the old hotel in which they were staying.

On the flight home, Wesley took Connor’s hand. There was no fear in his squeeze this time, and he was smiling.

“Thank you for this. It’s been an amazing weekend.”

Connor squeezed back, and brought Wesley’s fingers to his mouth to kiss them. “You’re very welcome. And thank you for joining me.”

Then reality came crushing down when they got home and Connor saw his schedule for the next day: Matthew.

***

Matthew kept his gaze on the floor, his posture the perfect blend of strength and submission.

“Strip!”

While Matthew shrugged off his shirt and pants, Connor focused on the toys at hand. He took out the strings of rope and spread them on the table according to thickness and length. Next to them, he added a pair of small weights.

When he turned back, Matthew had assumed the waiting position in the middle of the room, hands behind his back and legs slightly spread. For once, his silence grated on Connor’s nerves.

“Underwear too.”

If the request surprised Matthew in any way, he didn’t show it. His hands went to the waistband of his briefs and he pushed them down his legs. Once naked, he straightened his back and resumed his former position, his flaccid cock swaying.

While there was never an exchange of bodily fluids in the interactions at The Dungeon, every session elicited a physical reaction from the subs, besides the mental one. That there was nothing coming off Matthew was disconcerting. It made Connor want to see what he could awake in him.

“What do you want, Matthew?”

“Sir?”

“If you could have anything you wanted from me, what would that be?”

“Anything you want me to want, Sir.”

Frustration rose, and Connor fought to push it back. “What is your safe word?”

“Dolphin.” There had been no hesitation, no twitch of muscles, nothing to betray any emotion from Matthew.

“Very well. Let’s begin.”

Connor went over the rules again, making sure Matthew was aware of them, before starting the scene.

Making quick work of it, Connor had him kneeling on the mat and set a harness around his chest and shoulders. He moved to his arms, secured them together and connected them to the harness.

And still there was no visible reaction from Matthew. In his throat, the pulse beat away steadily, and his cock was still flaccid. Why was he there if he didn’t take any joy from what Connor did?

When Connor had tied Matthew’s calves against his thighs and connected them to the harness, he paused. As he let Matthew settle into the position, Connor went through Matthew’s file in his head, making sure he hadn’t missed something.

As he thought, he secured large hooks under the thigh-rope cuffs. Sweeping two fingers beneath the rope, he pulled, checking the leeway, making sure they wouldn’t be too tight despite the added weight of Matthew’s body against them. Once the legs were set, he moved onto the hands, and caught the hooks beneath the pattern of the arm bands. Next was the harness. Once everything was in place, he went to the control panel on the wall and pushed the button, putting the lever in motion and lifting Matthew into the air.

When he was at the right height, Connor stopped and secured the mechanism. With the crook of his forefinger, Connor lifted Matthew’s face to check his eyes. The pupils were slightly dilated—the only sign of emotion he’d exhibited.

“Are you all right, Matthew?”

The sub wet his lips, a small tremble to them. “Yes, Sir.” Though a little breathless, he sounded lucid enough.

A surge of excitement shot through Connor, his fingers tingling at Matthew’s reaction.

Walking to the table holding the paraphernalia, Connor toyed with the cock ring he’d selected earlier. Unless he could get Matthew hard, he couldn’t use it. Taking the string of clamps, he walked up to Matthew. Without hesitation, he latched the first on the sensitive skin at Matthew’s side. The sharp intake of breath felt good to Connor’s ears, and he itched to elicit more from Matthew.

In silence, he finished clipping the rest of them, adorning both sides of Matthew’s body. Within the clasp, the skin went white. Matthews lips fell open, and his cock grew hard.

With a glance at Matthew’s face, to make sure he was still present, Connor brought another rope, shorter this time, and tied it around the base of Matthew’s balls. Unlike the rest of the ties, where some give was necessary, here he pulled the rope flush against the skin. The testicles drew tight, bulging around the rope.

A soft cry floated off Matthew, and a shiver ran down Connor’s body, a weird excitement coursing through him. Every gasp, every twitch Matthew let out, spurred Connor on.

He took hold of Matthew’s half-hard cock and slipped the cock ring over it, until it rested against the base. The dick swelled, going fully erect.

It was a pretty cock—thick and long enough—but it held no appeal for Connor. He didn’t want it, or Matthew for that matter, in any sexual way, but the sight the sub made touched a chord he’d buried with Alin. Something made him want to see Matthew hurting.

He gave a slap to the side of Matthew’s cock, watching it bounce. The broken sigh that came from the sub was music to his ears. He wanted more.

Walking back to the table, he took the little weights he had set aside and dug out a string of tiny clamps.

Back beside Matthew, he fisted his hair and lifted his head until he could see his eyes. His pupils were blown, hunger and need written in them. His lips were red from where he’d bitten them, but there was no real distress anywhere on his face.

Still Connor checked. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, Sir.”

“Are you sure, Matthew?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Nodding, he let go of Matthew’s hair and went back to work, securing the weights against the skin of his testicles. They bulged and sagged as far as the bounds allowed. Matthew squirmed and cried out, but the safe word did not come.

Next, Connor attached the little clamps against the underside of his cock, from the base up, stopping before he reached the head.

Matthew shivered with each pinch, and his dick gave tiny jerks, precum dribbling from the tip. Once the clamps had all been attached, Connor gave another slap and took a step back.

“I am going to pull these free. Are you ready?”

Matthew answered with a cry.

“Use your words.” The command was marked by another slap, this one much sharper.

“Yes, Sir.” The answer came out strangled, out of breath.

“There are three strings of clamps. I want you to count each of them as I remove them. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Connor grabbed the end of the one on the left, the one that had gone in first, and yanked it. The clamps came undone one by one with little snaps.

“One.” Matthew’s spine straightened, and he pulled against the ropes.

Connor took the second one, and pulled it free.

“Two.” The word ended on a cry as Matthew’s brain picked up on the pain he was feeling. His cock gave a huge throb, the skin straining against the clips.

“That’s it. That’s good. That’s very good.” Connor caressed the reddened skin, giving Matthew time to recover.

Making quick work of it, Connor untied the rope around the testicles. They remained though against Matthew’s body.

On a caress, he cupped Matthew’s sac with one hand and pulled the cock string in a smooth motion with the other. Matthew struggled within the bonds, pulling at the knots, head thrown back. Before the last clip was removed, he started coming, his whole body taut.

Connor stepped back, avoiding the splash zone, without releasing him. Swiftly, Connor pulled the cock ring free. Blood rushed out of the deflating dick and it fell limp between Matthew’s legs. With a final groan, Matthew’s head dropped forward, his chest rising with his labored breath.

Once Matthew had recovered, Connor let him down and untied him. His own muscles protested, the exhaustion starting to settle in.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For coming without permission.”

Connor gave a little shrug, which Matthew couldn’t see from where he was standing with his head bowed. “I didn’t tell you otherwise either, so I’ll let that slide for now.”

He didn’t have the strength to keep up the scene, and he wanted Matthew gone, so he could unwind a bit.

“Thank you, Sir.” Matthew fidgeted from one foot to the other.

“You may go now.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

With Matthew out the door, Connor could breathe again. He looked around the room, checking to see what needed to be done before his next appointment. As he worked, he replayed the scene in his head.

It didn’t bother him that Matthew had come without permission, or that he came at all. These things happened, even if the club didn’t sell sex. But what did bother him was his reaction. He’d wanted to hurt Matthew. He’d wanted to elicit a strong reaction from him. He hadn’t wanted to inflict actual damage, but he’d wanted to make Matthew suffer—the kind of hurt Alin had begged him to unleash. With Alin, he hadn’t been able to. He’d known that he shouldn’t, and that Alin hadn’t been mentally stable enough to take it.

So why were things different with Matthew?