“No. It’s just … I was thinking … I figured I could…”
I pushed to my feet. “Don’t think.”
The cowboy’s eyes followed my movement, his arms shifting in closer to his body. If he was trying to pretend not to be pissed off, he was doing a shitty job.
I nodded toward the basement stairs. “Follow me.”
I was surprised he didn’t ask me why. He wasn’t nearly as obedient as he’d been a couple of days ago.
I marched down the stairs with him close at my heels.
“Strip and go stand by the wall.”
“Uh … Zeke … I need to meet the movers.”
Stopping in my tracks, I didn’t turn to look at him. “Are you arguing with me, cowboy?”
“No, Zeke. It’s just—”
I held up a hand to cut him off. When he stopped, I pointed to the wall. “Now.”
It was time to address this situation. The man obviously had something on his mind, and if it meant torturing the information out of him, so be it. I certainly didn’t mind. In fact, it was right up my alley.
I unlocked the closet so I could find one particular toy I’d been looking forward to trying out. It was rather brutal, but I figured the cowboy could handle it. Once I’d gathered all the parts, I carried the heavy items out to where the cowboy was currently waiting for me.
I set everything down on the vinyl-padded table in the corner, then began connecting the pieces until there was no mystery left regarding what it was for. Well, no mystery for me.
The contraption was rather large. Probably four feet in length, but sturdy on the six-foot table.
“Over here,” I instructed the cowboy. “Do you know what this is?”
“No, Zeke. I haven’t got a clue.”
“It’s a stockade.” I motioned toward the front. “These two circles will restrain your wrists. This one your head.” I patted the middle pad. “Your chest rests here since you’ll be on your elbows and knees. Your ankles will be secured here and then this”—I pulled a thick black dildo out of the protective bag—“will attach to this part, converting it into a machine that’s going to fuck your ass for as long as I want it to.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything. I knew what he was thinking. He was trying to determine if that dildo would actually fit in his ass. If my cock fit, this certainly would. But it wouldn’t necessarily be comfortable.
“Get on up here.”
The cowboy stepped closer and I gave him a hand when he crawled up on the table. It only took a couple of minutes to get him in position, then I went to work fixing everything around him so he was safely restrained.
“There’s nowhere for you to go from this point,” I told him once all the shackles were in place. “Which will help once this thing gets going.”
I lubed the dildo and secured it on the rod, then lined it up with the cowboy’s ass. He jerked when the cool gel lubed his asshole.
“Are you excited?” I asked, keeping my tone snide. “Because I am. I figure this’ll do nicely as an attitude adjustment.”
“Attitude adjustment?” he sounded skeptical.
“It appears we’ve got a problem,” I told him. “You clearly have something on your mind. Since I don’t tolerate bratty, sulking fuck toys, I’m gonna take care of that.”
Once the dildo was where it was supposed to be, I grabbed the remote and hit the button. It was on its lowest setting, which was just enough to have the dildo inching forward ever so slowly, working its way into his ass.
The cowboy grunted as it breached the tight ring of muscles. Satisfied with the setup, I walked back around to stand in front of him. Since he was on the table, he was high enough to look me in the face without having to strain his neck too much.
“Now tell me, cowboy. What’s the problem?”
He gritted his teeth as the toy fucked its way into him. “No problem, Zeke.”
I stepped forward and grabbed his jaw, getting right up in his face. My patience was on the verge of snapping and his dishonesty had it hanging precariously in the balance.
I squeezed his jaw. “If you think this is punishment, you don’t have a fucking clue who I am. Lie to me one more time and I swear to you I’ll break you so fast you won’t have a chance to think of a safe word, much less utter it. Understand?”
His eyes locked with mine, daggers shooting out of them. He was seething when he responded with, “Yes, Zeke.”
Taking a deep breath, I released him and stepped back. The machine was doing its job, pulling out and pushing in. It was a steady rhythm that would have him wanting more but only I had the power to give that to him.
