Page 22 of Pain Play

After he’d been released from all his bonds, Phil rolled him onto his stomach.That’s cool. I’ll never say no to getting fucked by Phil.

“Tuck your knees underneath you, baby.”

As Phil went through the familiar ritual of prepping his ass, the erection he’d lost when Phil had torn the final pieces of wax away began to return. Phil seemed to pay special attention to his rim, softening him with both thumbs while holding his cheeks wide open.

Phil removed his fingers and Terry exhaled. He’d extended his arms above his head in anticipation of a good, rough fuck from his Master. Terry also supported his head against his upper arm to keep his face from rubbing against the vinyl covering. As he gazed toward the nightstand where Phil had placed the lube next to the candles, he tensed as Phil picked up the larger of the two that he’d just been using. No way could he handle the burning wax on his hole, no fucking way.Red. All you have to do is say it.

Using his safeword had never been an issue for him, and Phil had always made it very clear that he was expected to use it if he had to. But something held him back. He frowned when instead of lighting the candle, Phil moved behind him with it. He jerked his head up as Phil prodded his entrance with the still warm object.

“Come on, baby. I know you can take this. It’s not much bigger than my cock. Let it in, let it spread you open so I can fuck you with it.”

Terry pressed back while Phil gently pressed forward. Phil would barely breach him, then retreat to slicken the hard object before working it in again. The round, blunt end fought to enter him, and it wasn’t until Terry bore down that it slipped past his tight ring of muscle. The sensation was unbelievable, his hole burning from stretched so wide. More lube was rubbed around his heated, tender skin. Then the hard object moved inside him, Phil keeping his actions gentle, but sure. He didn’t plunge too deeply, but twisted it within him as he worked his passage.

“God, this is so fucking hot. You should see yourself, taking it for me so good.” Phil’s voice came out low and husky. “Now you do it. Fuck yourself on it. Show me how much you want to please your Master. You’re going to make yourself come just from this. No touching, only this, the thing that burned your skin, that made you scream. My little pain slut loved it, didn’t you?”

“Oh…” Terry raised his head, pushed with his arms to give himself more leverage to shove himself back onto the candle. “Yes. Loved it…” He sighed. “So much.”

Phil groaned. “Yeah. Like that.”

Terry used his whole body, made love to the candle as if it were an extension of Phil. His inner heat seemed to have softened the wax a bit, and it became more comfortable, more pleasurable. After thrusting on the thick intrusion in his passage for a while, Phil’s growls and moans had begun to match Terry’s own. To his surprise, Phil was right. He was going to come just from having the candle jammed up his ass.

Phil took over, holding Terry in place by curling an arm around his middle, then fucking him with short stabs. The sensations were too much, too extreme. He was never allowed to come without permission, he realized that. But in a few seconds, it wasn’t going to matter what the rules were.

“M-master.” Terry grunted, barely able to catch his breath. “Gotta…”

He let out a keening cry, curling his toes as if he could ward off the inevitable. Terry threw his head back again, a scream ready to burst forth, but it was impossible to give it voice. His throat closed off as he shot long arcs of cum across the vinyl, his body jerking and shaking before he collapsed boneless on the bed. Phil entered him fast and hard. He’d only had a moment of emptiness before he was filled again, but this time it was from his Master.

Phil wrapped his arm around Terry’s throat then reached up to twine their fingers together above Terry’s head. After a few more jerky thrusts, Phil growled as he filled him with his seed. Phil’s breath was hot and loud against his ear, his weight pressing him into the mattress both comforting and safe.

That was what I needed. How does he always know?

Chapter Eight

Terry dried off the last dish from the drainer and put it in its proper space in the cupboard. Ever since Phil and Gerard had started working together, things had shifted back to how they’d been when he and Phil had begun the new incarnation of their relationship. It was odd how comforting a feeling it was. The middle of January was approaching, and the angel and demon series would be beckoning him soon. He’d signed a contract with them, which he wouldn’t dream of breaking, but a thought had been rattling through his brain lately and he figured it was about time to bring it up to his Master for discussion.

With him so busy again, it would only make sense.

Terry checked on his baked potatoes, squinching up his face at the blast of heat when he opened the oven door. After poking each of the large russets a few times, he decided they could use another ten or fifteen minutes. Once they were done, he would scoop out the insides to mash, then fill the potatoes with a ground meat mixture that was from a recipe he’d gotten from his mom. Then he would top them with the mashed potato middles before returning them to the oven. The final touch would be to sprinkle them with cheese about five minutes before it was time to remove them from the heat. He set out the large skillet, then got to work preparing the filling of ground lamb, sauce, onions and green peas.

The reality was that he no longer needed—nor did he have much of an interest in— working on location or at the studios. When he’d originally come to Hollywood, his only intention had been to pursue portrait work. Doing headshots had been a way of achieving a name for himself. The only reason he’d ever begun doing set photography at all was because Phil had recommended him. Then, he’d kept on accepting the jobs to combat the loneliness and melancholy after Phil had left for Toronto.

But now everything had changed. They didn’t need the money and he could have a fulfilling career, the career he’d dreamed of all along, by going back to working on portraits and portfolio shots only.So I can be more available to take care of the house and my Master. Just thinking about it filled him with excitement.I’ll bring it up to him tonight.

Terry continued with the preparations for their meal while also practicing in his head the best way to broach the subject regarding his desired career adjustment. He doubted it would be an issue. But part of their dynamic was that they discussed everything together before making any final decisions.

A frantic knock surprised him out of his reverie. He frowned, wondering if Phil had forgotten his keys. He highly doubted that would be the case coming from such a meticulously organized man. The banging became more insistent. Not knowing what to expect, Terry turned off the oven and stove top, moving the meat mixture to a cool burner and covering it with a lid. He wiped his hands on a towel, untied his apron, tossing it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs as he hurried to answer the door, the knocking increasing in desperation.

Right as he was about to grab the knob, he paused. His hand shook, and he swallowed hard. A flash of opening the studio door to a serial killer and rapist came to life in his mind and he fought against the panic that shot through him from the memory. After the attack, he and Phil had purchased a stronger door to the studio which included a peephole.

“Please, Terry. Please can you let me in?”

Marco? What the fuck.

All hesitation was gone as he flung the door wide. He gasped as Marco hurled himself into his arms, the action so sudden that Terry had to steady himself to keep from stumbling back and falling.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Terry fought against the awkwardness of holding Marco without their Masters around, but he needed to get to the bottom of what was going on with the clearly terrified sub.

Marco tensed, clutching him tighter, his voice muffled as he buried his face in Terry’s chest. “Shut it! Shut the door before he comes!”