Page 65 of Pucking Them
Shay sneakily turns his head, breaking position to watch.
I allow it because I know how much it is turning him on to see Robyn being bound by his brother on top of the crinkled black plastic. Eden pulls her arms out to the edges of the bed, binding her arms like I have taught him with the soft ropes.
Eden is, maybe unsurprisingly, good with tying knots.
He checks that there is space between her wrists and the rope; he doesn’t want to risk bruising her or cutting off circulation. Then he silently crawls onto the bed and pulls her left foot first and then the right to the corners of the bed and ties them down as well.
Robyn is already breathing fast. Her chest is rising and falling, as she is bound in place like a sacrifice.
Taking Shay by surprise, I lean down and dominantly grab him by the scruff of the neck.
He yells out, as I shove him onto his face in front of the cage underneath the bed. Then I slam my bare foot down between his shoulder blades, pinning him to the floor.
He’s trembling, but I know it’s not from pain.
This is one of Shay’s secret fantasies, which he wrote in the Guide.
I press down harder on his back, careful of his shoulder. “Next time you’re disobedient, I will sleep down here, while my property sleeps underneath me in this cage as punishment. Where you belong.”
When Shay stills, I wonder if I have gone too far.
Then he murmurs, “Well, that’s not motivation to obey, Sir.”
Eden snorts a laugh.
I try not to laugh myself.
What did I expect?
“Of course, you need to be punished today for your disobedience during the game.” My voice becomes low and dangerous.
This isn’t a true punishment; it never will be with Shay. But it is a way to connect and make sure he understands that if he breaks the rules, I will be here to catch him and hold him to the consequences, to which he’s agreed.
Always.
Shay freezes. “I’m sorry.”
Before he can panic, spiraling into his own past of abusive doms, where punishment meant bruises, blood, and degradation, I snap him out of it.
“Stand up, pet.” I lift my foot off his back.
Shay scrambles to stand.
“Good boy. Look how well you’re obeying now. You’re doing so well,” I praise.
Shay relaxes and lifts his chin. His eyes are glassy.
“In medieval times, they used wooden pillories for both public and corporal punishment.” I grab Shay’s cock like it’s my own — and right now, it is — and lead him to the wooden pillory at the bottom of the bed. “If you’re going to fight with thesehands, then I can’t trust you with them. I’m putting you in a pillory, until you earn the right to freely use your hands again.”
Shay’s eyes widen.
I grab his chin, forcing him to focus on me. “Color?”
He licks over his dry lips. “Yellow.”
I instantly let go of him, taking a step back. “What do you need? Is this too much?”
Shay stares longingly at the pillory. “It’s perfect, Sir. It’s just I didn’t know how perfect it was until you said all that, and it’s overwhelming. I feel so bloody taken in hand and…” He glances down at his wrists. “…sorry too about what I did. I want this. I need to make you feel good and earn your forgiveness. I don’t like being bad. I just needed a moment because I was about to come.”
