and lowered his pelvis until his hard cock brushed
Aiden’s chest. The tip of Scott’s cock glistened and left a
wet trail on Aiden’s skin as Scott slipped it under the
chain.
“Ahhh.” Aiden hissed.
“That’s right,” Scott said. “Let me hear you while
I’m fucking you.” He thrust, and his entire cock slid
under the chain, yanking Aiden’s nipples up and in.
Aiden cried out. His own cock was confused,
stiffening at the delicious feeling of utter subjugation,
then softening again as the pain became too much.
Scott fucked the chain slowly, dragging long cries
from Aiden, then faster and harder, until all Aiden could
do was gulp and gasp and beg.
He was nothing. He was Shithead. He was Scott’s
toy. That felt good to think about. Aiden’s cock twitched
again. He stopped yelling and began to revel in the pain,
closed his eyes and prepared to sail away on it.
But something wasn’t right. He didn’t feel he had
the right, or permission, to extract pleasure from his
agony. There was no support, no affection from Scott.
Scott wasn’t trying to launch Aiden into subspace—he
was trying to keep Aiden in the present, hurting.
He wants me to feel it. He’s punishing me for lying to him.
Scott finished, shooting his cum onto Aiden’s neck
and chest. Aiden didn’t feel anything—not pride at
having taken pain for his top’s pleasure, not arousal at
Scott’s inventive cruelty, not the hot, glowing shame that
accompanied a thorough and punishing fuck. He just felt
confused.
“Go clean yourself,” Scott muttered.
Aiden struggled up. Any encouragement, any
praise from Scott would have helped. If Scott had
cleaned him, for instance, or held him for a few minutes,
helped him come down from the pain. But Scott didn’t
seem inclined to touch him.
When did you get so needy? He’s training you. You’re a
slave, a piece of property. A liar and a disappointment. And you
expect him to what
, cuddle
you?
He got up and went to the bathroom. He cleaned
himself up and prepared for whatever was next.
“Leftover onion fries in the kitchen,” Hera said,
nudging him on her way to grab menus.
“Not hungry,” Aiden said.
“You love onion fries more than life.”
“Not today.”
The last thing Aiden needed was onion fries. He
was on a strict diet. Two protein shakes a day—one in
the morning, and one in the evening. In between, he ate
very little—lean meat, fish, hummus, salad. He worked
out for two hours each night. After two weeks, he was
disappointed by how thin and weak he still looked. He
was developing hard knots of muscle on his upper arms
and his calves, but they looked almost fake—stuck on.
He missed the slender softness of his body, the gentle
definition of his muscles. He was bony and hard now.
Scott still laughed at his body, called him scrawny
and told him his ass was the only part of him worth
looking at. Sometimes Scott made him eat—a bowl of
oatmeal or soup from the floor—and Aiden hated this,
hated eating in front of Scott, hated eating more than he’d
planned to that day. To make up for it, he tried not to eat
anything except his morning protein shake on the days
he met with Scott. He spent more time at the gym those
days too.
Things with Scott had improved after the first night
of training. He’d learned to polish Scott’s boots with his
tongue, to wait in position for as long as Scott wanted
him to without moving or complaining. He could take a
thorough fucking, a savage whipping. He fetched toys
from Scott’s cabinet on command. He opened his legs so
that Scott could tease him, and he never came without
permission. Well, almost never. They were working on
that.
Spending three nights a week at Scott’s kept his ass
constantly sore. His nipples were scabbed from the
clamps, and the scabs sometimes split and oozed a clear
liquid. He was bruised, stretched, and exhausted, but he
felt great. It embarrassed him that he lived for Scott’s rare
praise—an occasional “good boy” or a reassuring hand
on his back. He was always very responsive to Scott’s
teasing, hoping he could entice Scott to go further, make
him feel good. To make love, together, just once in a
while—instead of Scott fucking him and casting him
aside.
A hand covered his eyes from behind. “Open
wide.”
He obeyed out of habit, and Hera slipped an onion
fry into his mouth. He shook free and spit the fry out.
“Cut it out,” he snapped.
“Come on. You need that fry. I never see you eat
anymore, and you look positively
gaunt
.”
“I do not.”
“Come to dinner tomorrow night. Kim’s cooking.
It’ll be vegany stuff, so you won’t have to worry about
messing up your figure.”
“Can’t.”
“Let me guess. Scott.”
“Yep.”
“Well, tell him I said for him to at least give you an
extra portion of gruel or something.”
Aiden gave her a tight smile. “Whatever.”
“Don’t ‘whatever’ me. I’m serious. You don’t look
good.”
“I look better than I have in a long time. Scott wants
me to be in shape.”
Hera shook her head. “Look in the mirror, dork.
You may have rock-hard abs, but you’re in lousy shape.”
* * * *
Aiden followed Scott down the hall to the bedroom,
more than a little apprehensive. Scott’s surprises tended
to be painful and humiliating.
Scott led him into the bathroom, which was lit with
candles—arranged
haphazardly,
but
attractive
nonetheless. The tub was filled with foamy water, and in
the candlelight, Aiden saw steam rising from it. Scott
pinched his bruised nipples. Aiden didn’t even
whimper. His tits were getting tougher. Scott traced old
welts on Aiden’s back, ass, and thighs. He rubbed
Aiden’s sides and stomach with his palm.
“Who do you belong to?” he asked.
“You, Sir,” Aiden replied.
Then Scott took Aiden’s cock and used his thumb to
spread the leaking fluid from the tip down the shaft. He
fisted Aiden’s cock and stroked slowly. Aiden’s back
arched, and he sighed, moving with Scott’s hand.
“Into the tub,” Scott said with a mild slap to
Aiden’s ass.
Aiden climbed in. The water was hot—almost too
hot—but his body quickly adjusted as he sank into the
bubbles. He secretly hoped Scott wouldn’t hurt him here.
This felt too nice, too safe. Scott sat on the edge of the tub
and lathered a washcloth. He washed the back of Aiden’s
neck, using slow, soothing circles. He rubbed behind
Aiden’s ears, and Aiden leaned into the contact, allowing
himself to sigh his pleasure as Scott ran the cloth down
each arm, scrubbing between Aiden’s fingers. Maybe this
was the preamble to some horrible torture, but it felt
damn good.
Scott had Aiden stand up. He washed Aiden’s ass
with surprising gentleness, not rubbing too hard over the
welts and bruises. He moved the washcloth between
Aiden’s legs. The warm, soapy cloth passing over his
cock and balls made Aiden’s knees shake. He couldn’t
stop himself from humping the cloth a little, and Scott let
him.
Scott squirted shampoo into his palm. Aiden
couldn’t keep back a groan as Scott massaged his scalp.
He wished this could go on forever. Scott rinsed the
shampoo out, shielding Aiden’s eyes with a clean cloth.
This embarrassed and thrilled Aiden—he hated the
feeling of helplessness, but it felt so
good
to be cared for.
Scott guided Aiden’s wet head to rest against his thigh.
They sat like that for a few minutes, Scott stroking
Aiden’s cheek with his thumb.
“You liked that?” Scott asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
“So did I.”
This was the Scott Aiden saw only sometimes—a
little vulnerable, a little uncertain. Aiden had the sense
that Scott had wanted to please him but hadn’t been sure
how. He felt more determined than ever to be a good sub
for Scott.
Scott helped Aiden from the tub. He wrapped him
in a thick towel and backed him into the bedroom,
pushing him gently onto the mattress. The towel fell
open, leaving Aiden exposed, damp, and eager. Scott
kissed Aiden, plunging his tongue deep into Aiden’s
mouth, claiming him.
“Your training’s going well,” Scott said. “I thought
you deserved a reward.”
He ran his fingers along Aiden’s cock, tracing the
ridge below the head. Aiden arched his back, rubbing his
cock against Scott’s hand.
“Shh. Not so fast,” Scott said. “Spread your legs.”
Aiden did. Scott rolled on a condom and lubed
himself. He pressed a finger against Aiden’s opening,
circling his target, making Aiden squirm.
“I want you to beg for it,” Scott whispered.
“Please, Sir,” Aiden said.
“Please what? What do you want?”
Aiden lifted his hips as Scott continued to circle his
asshole with one finger, pressing against the opening but
never breaching it.
“Please put your—put your finger in me. God—
please—”
“Good boy.” Scott plunged a finger inside him.
“Oh God… ”
“Stay still while I finger fuck you.”
Aiden tried his best to hold still. Not to yelp or
twist or ride Scott’s finger. Scott added a second finger,
then a third, stretching him, and Aiden moaned with
each of Scott’s thrusts.
Scott pulled his fingers out.
“No!” Aiden begged.
Scott quirked an eyebrow. “No?”
“I mean—please, Sir. Don’t stop.”
“My cock’s going to feel even better in you,” Scott
said, positioning himself at Aiden’s opening.
Aiden had received countless fuckings from Scott
since his training began, and usually Scott’s cock
hurt
.
This was different. Scott entered him slowly and waited
for Aiden to relax and accommodate him before he began
thrusting. He angled his thrusts to hit Aiden’s prostate,
and soon Aiden was clutching the sheets, yelling with
abandon as Scott pounded him.
“Gonna come,” Aiden warned.
“Not yet,” Scott said, ramming him harder.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Aiden panted. “Scott, I
can’t—”
“You’re gonna do what I say.” Scott smacked the
inside of one thigh.
Aiden gasped. “Yes, Sir. Oh God… ”
“Come for me now, little boy.”
Aiden’s face grew hot at the words “little boy,”
even as his balls and ass contracted and he came,
shooting onto his belly and the sheets. He panted and
begged incoherently as Scott continued to fuck him past
his orgasm. Scott came a moment later, emptying himself
into the condom. He pulled out, rolled Aiden onto his
stomach, and spanked him. Slow, hard slaps that made
Aiden wince and wriggle against the sheets.
“Move that ass for me, boy. Hump my bed.”
Flushing, Aiden rocked his hips, rubbing his cock
against the soft cotton. The slaps came faster, the sting of
them melding together into a perfect surface heat that
spread from Aiden’s hips to his thighs. Scott forced his
legs apart and spanked his crack, his asshole, his inner
thighs. “No,” Aiden moaned, rocking against the bed.
“No no no no… ” His cock was hard again and chafed
against the sheets.
“Yes,” Scott growled. “You do as I say. You hump
until you come. I’m going to spank you until you do.”
Aiden almost lost his mind at Scott’s promise. So
humiliating, yet so
hot
. Scott spanked his ass, alternating
cheeks, the slaps ringing in the dim room. Aiden’s
rubbed-raw cock wept and throbbed, and he humped the
mattress so hard the bedsprings began to protest. Finally
he came, thrusting his ass up into the air as the cum
spilled out of him, and Scott peppered his flaming butt
with a last volley of spanks. “Oh!” Aiden collapsed.
Scott chuckled.
“Your ass is the color of a Christmas sweater,” Scott
said, palming the sore flesh, digging his fingertips into
the most painful areas.
Aiden moaned.
“How do you feel?”
Aiden tensed with surprise. Scott never asked him
this. Was it a trick question? “Good, Sir. Tired.”