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tagGay MaleBetween the Push and Pull Ch. 03

Between the Push and Pull Ch. 03

Whew! Chapter Two was a doozy, wasn't it? I hope you all enjoyed reading the really hot sex as much as I enjoyed writing it. Moving on now, let's see where Ryan and Erik go from here.

As always, please please please comment! Whether you liked the chapter or not, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm addicted to it, in fact.

Copyright (c) 2017 by Hudson Bartholomew. All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Chapter 3

Ryan moved around behind the bar with a practiced ease, his brain only half aware of what he was doing and his body acting on muscle memory. Glasses arranged in neat rows, mixers and measuring thimbles placed at their stations, kegs hooked up to their taps. There was something soothing about going through familiar motions, and in the several weeks since that scene, Ryan wanted nothing more than to immerse himself in the familiar.

"Hey," Amanda gave him a wary greeting.

Ryan returned with a non-committal, "Hey." He could feel her eyeing him behind his back.

About a week after the shoot, when he'd already been distant and cold for days, Amanda had tried to say something. But this wasn't something Ryan was willing to discuss with her, or with anyone, really; it wasn't something Ryan really wanted to dwell on himself. So he shut her down and she hadn't tried to raise the issue again.

Ryan told himself that it was better this way; he didn't need any unnecessary snooping in his life. But truth be told, he felt guilty treating Amanda so coldly, she didn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, but she was too far down the bar to hear it clearly.

"What?" she asked, turning at the sound of his voice.

"I'm sorry," Ryan repeated, heading to her end of the bar. "I know I've been treating you like shit, and I'm sorry."

Amanda took a deep breath and sighed. "Yeah, you have been treating me like shit. I don't know if I should forgive you."

Ryan cringed, but couldn't come up with anything clever to say.

Amanda glared at him, but she didn't look nearly as angry as she had in the past. "So tell me why you turned into a bitch?"

Now it was Ryan's turn to sigh. "I..." How exactly to do you explain to your straight hetero female coworker that he'd bottomed in a gay porn video and now he felt exposed and vulnerable and scared?

"It's complicated."

Amanda rolled her eyes, "Right, complicated." She turned back to her set up.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes," she answered. "But not as much as before."

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Yeah, I know," she sighed.

The door swung open as their first customers trickled in for happy hour.

Amanda shot him a good-natured lop-sided grin. So maybe she was still mad, but she'd get over it. Ryan returned with his own grin and went to take the customer's order.

It was a Tuesday night, so they weren't that busy. Just a steady trickle of customers throughout the evening that kept both Ryan and Amanda moving, but not frantic.

Ryan was hauling a case of wine from the basement storeroom when someone spun him around, grabbed his head and planted a firm kiss right on his lips.

"Holy fuck, you're blowing up the internet!"

Ryan managed to keep hold of his case of wine and pulled back enough to see Erik's giant smile and winking dimple.

"What the fuck?!" Ryan retreated and bumped into a bar stool, toppling it to the floor.

"You're blowing up the internet!" Erik's hands were raised as if that would explain what he was talking about.

Ryan just glared at him and made a beeline for the safety of his bar.

"Ryan!" Erik called after him, but Ryan ignored him.

"Ryan, what the hell is wrong with you?" Erik leaned over the bar and peered down to where Ryan was crouched, shuffling bottles under the counter. "I've sent you a million text messages and tried calling a million times. So has Gary. Where the hell have you been?"

"Nowhere," Ryan replied, fully aware that he sounded like petulant child.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Erik shouted loud enough for heads to turn and stare.

Ryan glared at him again, grabbed him by the arm and led him back to the basement storeroom and away from the eyes of paying customers.

"You can't come in here shouting like that," he admonished.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Erik turned to face off against Ryan. "I only came in here because you've been ignoring us, and I'm only shouting because you're acting like a child."

Ryan crossed his arms and set his jaw. "Why are you here?" he bit out.

Erik stared at him incredulously, before raising his hands in surrender. "I just came to tell you that our scene is blowing up the internet. More specifically, you are. The website crashed last night with the number of people trying to access the video. People can't stop talking about you."

Ryan blinked. He hadn't actually given the video itself much thought over the past several weeks. He'd been too focused on how he felt to think about the fact that everyone in the whole world would see what had happened. That little ball of unease that he'd been carrying around in the middle of his chest for the past few weeks suddenly grew a lot bigger.

"Ryan, you okay?" Erik's hand reached out for Ryan's shoulder, but he flinched at the contact. Erik dropped his hand to his side. "You haven't seen the video, have you?"

Ryan shook his head.

"Right, because you don't like watching videos of yourself," Erik sighed. "Well, you should watch this one, because you're fucking amazing. Better than all of your other stuff combined."

Ryan shifted on his feet, but didn't respond. He didn't really want to know what his fucking amazing looked like. He'd rather not go there at all.

"Listen, you can watch it or don't watch it. It doesn't really matter. But we need to schedule the next shoot. Gary's been trying to get in touch with you. So get back to him, okay? We're ready to go at the end of this week."

Ryan shifted again, but still didn't respond.

"I guess I'll see you, then," Erik sighed and showed himself out.

Ryan took a few more moments for himself, but couldn't figure out what he thought or felt about Erik's visit. All he knew was that doing another scene was the last thing he wanted.

The rest of the night went by uneventfully. Amanda had seen the little altercation between Ryan and Erik, and aside from a quick question to make sure Ryan was okay, hadn't brought it up again. Ryan was grateful for that.

Now he sat at home, laptop open with the cursor hovering over the play button. Gary had sent him a link to the video, he'd ignored it along with all the other attempts to contact him.

To watch or not to watch, that is the question. Ryan shook his head—don't be corny. And don't be a child; just watch it.

Ryan clicked on the play button.

It was weird watching the scene from this side of the camera lens, his memory of being on set clashing with what ended up in the final cut. The first couple of scenes were a little awkward and Ryan cringed at the sound of his own voice from the alley. But then they were on the couch.

Erik looked sinfully hot in those low riding sweatpants, tattoos swirling across his skin. The camera captured the way they danced as he moved, just like Ryan remembered it. And Ryan himself looked pretty good, too, he had to admit.

Gary had wanted a very particular look, so Ryan had gotten a haircut right before they started shooting: short on the sides, volume across the top with a neat side part, very subtle blonde highlights in his normally chestnut brown hair to contrast against Erik's dark black.

Those fake glasses were well chosen; they framed and shadowed at the same time, drawing attention to Ryan's unremarkable brown eyes while making it more difficult to see them clearly. The narrow fitting vest, smart bowtie, and tight jeans, it all worked for that... what did Erik call it? Nerdy hot look.

Now Erik was doing that thing with Ryan's earring. Ryan couldn't tear his eyes away from the image of himself, mouth parted gasping, arms wrapped tightly around Erik, eyes fluttering rapidly. Ryan swallowed thickly as he watched himself be tugged onto his back, his chest heaving as he struggled to orient himself.

While Ryan lay there blinking at the ceiling, Erik had stood up and dropped his sweats, his hand palming a thickening cock. Ryan had missed all of that on set.

The next several sequences weren't that bad, closer to the script that they had agreed on before hand. The camera captured that look on Erik's face as he feasted on the sight of Ryan's body. From this side of the screen, it looked toned and defined, not muscular like Erik, but no misplaced fat either; Ryan approved.

Ryan sucking on Erik's cock and then getting face fucked was okay, too. Ryan liked how Erik looked when he arched back, body fully on display while his cock was firmly caught between Ryan's lips.

After that, the video went downhill. Ryan watched as Erik's mouth and fingers played on his body, and the camera caught every second of Ryan's mind falling apart, no carefully constructed expressions, just his raw emotions written in plain writing across his face.

His body was trashing as Erik's fingers danced in his ass, hands in a death grip on his knees, head flailing about. Incoherent mumbling sounds came from Ryan's mouth—he didn't remember that part.

Then the video cut to Erik, braced on his elbows above Ryan's body, his face pressed against Ryan's cheek, hidden from the camera. Ryan's memory flashed to the words Erik had whispered into his ear, "Easy, relax."

Cut to Erik's sheathed cock, veiny and engorged, pressed against Ryan's rosy hole, guided by Erik's hand. Pressure and release, pressure and release, until it popped in. Cut to Ryan's face, pupils blown, eyes wide open but unseeing. His mouth hung open and the mic picked up Ryan's strangled cry.

Back and forth the camera cut between Erik's cock slowing making it's way into Ryan's body, and Ryan's face as his body was being invaded. In between was peppered wide angle shots of them, limbed entangled on the couch, Ryan's body trembling with uncontrolled sensory overload, Erik's with barely contained restraint.

The fucking started slow; Ryan remembered the way Erik undulated on top of him. The camera was able to zoom in between their bodies to see Ryan's cock rubbing against Erik's stomach. And their position allowed another camera to focus on Erik's cock buried in Ryan's ass.

But every few seconds, the camera would come back to Ryan's face as it twisted and distorted in torturous pleasure. And the sounds, Jesus-fucking-Christ, the sounds that Ryan was making on screen. He had absolutely no recollection of making them, of muttering the "oh my gods," the whimpering, the "please, Ev, pleases." When did he even decide to shorten Erik's screen name to Ev?

And the final shot. Ryan remembered that he had been loosing his grip on Erik; watching the video, he realized that was because Erik pulled away from him and sat up while still pounding into his ass. Erik then wrapped his hand around Ryan's cock—that was shown in close detail on the screen, his palm twisting around the head, just like Ryan liked it.

Then the camera zoomed out to show the cumshot, thick white creamy cum shooting out of Ryan's cock and onto his body as he arched his back, knuckles white in their grip of the couch cushions, face contorted in an orgasm the likes of which Ryan had never felt before.

As Ryan was still shooting ropes of cum, milked by Erik's hand, Erik managed to pull out of Ryan's ass, ripped the condom off and rub his cock against Ryan's. A couple of strokes and Erik was shooting, too, his cum was clear but glistened as it landed alongside Ryan's. That set off Ryan's second orgasm, and his body convulsed on the screen as more cum shot out of his raw dick.

The camera panned to Ryan's face, blissed out and high from the cocktail of hormones released into his system; his body shook, aftershocks from the devastating orgasm. The camera angle shifted to bring Erik into view: he was collapsed against the back of the couch, body also shaking, but eyes much more aware than Ryan's. He was gazing at Ryan, but the Ryan watching from this side of the screen couldn't decipher what the look meant.

Before he could figure it out, the video ended. Credits rolled.

It was exactly as he feared. The camera had picked up every single feeling zinging across Ryan's nerves, every thought that raced across his mind, every emotion that even he wasn't aware he was feeling. It was all there. None of that was acting; none of that was Roman Cox. That was entirely Ryan Cote, on display for the world to see.

Ryan ran to his bathroom just in time to dry heave into his toilet.

When the nausea passed, Ryan tracked down his phone. His hand shook as he pulled Erik's number.

It rang twice before Erik answered, "Hey, how's it going?"

"I can't do this anymore," Ryan hated how shaky his voice sounded.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't do this. I can't do anymore scenes with you."

"What? Why not?" Erik asked. "Did you watch the video?"

"Yeah," Ryan dropped his head into his free hand. "That's why I can't do anymore scenes."

"I don't understand," Erik sounded exasperated. "You're amazing in the scene, why can't you do more?"

"I just can't, okay?" Ryan's voice was louder than he intended.

"Okay, okay," Erik responded quickly. "Let's just talk this through, I want to hear what you're thinking. But it's not ideal to do this on the phone. Are you at home? What's your address? I'll come to you."

Ryan sighed. This was not what he wanted to accomplish with the phone call. "I don't know..."

"Come on, please?" Shuffling sounds came from Erik's side of the line and a jingling of keys, "You owe me at least a chance to talk this through."

Ryan hesitated. Not only did he not want to talk about this. He also didn't want Erik coming to his apartment. It felt far too intimate after the video he just watched.

"Ryan?" Erik sounded like he was running down stairs.

"Okay, fine. I live in Brooklyn."

"Jesus, fucking Brooklyn," Erik muttered. "Alright, text me your address and I'll grab an Uber. Should take about 45 minutes, I guess. I'll see you soon."

"Fucking middle of the night, fucking Brooklyn, fucking top floor of a fucking five floor walkup," Erik muttered to himself as he reached the landing at the top of the stairs. He took a second to catch his breath before knocking, and noticed jangling and thudding sounds coming from the other side of the door.

Erik banged loudly and the sounds stopped. A moment later, the locks clicked and the door open to reveal a half naked, sweaty, out of breath Ryan with his hair all in a mess.

Erik smirked, "Did I interrupt something?"

Ryan stepped back and gestured to the black punching bag swinging in the corner.

"Ah, boxing," Erik accepted Ryan's unspoken invitation into his home. "How'd you get your landlord to approve that?"

Ryan grinned and shrugged, "What he doesn't know..."

"Right," Erik chuckled. Ryan seemed a lot less freaked out than he did on the phone.

"Sorry, let me just grab a shirt," Ryan said as his tugged fingerless gloves off his hands.

Erik surveyed Ryan's naked torso, all sinewy muscle, trim and lean, glistening under a layer of sweat. Without the gloves, all he was wearing was a flow-y pair of black pants that rode low on his hips and clinched at his ankles. Erik narrowed his eyes at Ryan's lower back—those pants rode really low, and there was no sign of any waistband underneath... Erik would bet money that Ryan was commando.

"Oh, don't on my account," Erik couldn't help but tease.

The expression on Ryan's face as he turned back was priceless: a little shocked, a little nervous, a little defensive. But it only lasted a split second before that infuriating grin was back, and then he shrug.

The shirt he put on didn't cover up much; it was an oversized white tank top, cut low around the collar and sleeves. Erik could still see practically everything through the thin material.

"You didn't have to bring anything over."

"Huh?" Erik glanced down at the six-pack of beers in his hand. "Oh, right. Well, I figured if we're going to do a late night gab-a-thon, we might as well have alcohol."

"You want something cold? I've got beer in my fridge."

"Yeah, sure, thanks."

Ryan disappeared through a doorway with the beer to chill and Erik took the chance to survey the apartment. It wasn't what he was expecting.

Other than the black punching bag in the corner, there was a platform bed pushed lengthwise against the wall, piled high with colorful pillows. In front of it sat a low coffee table made of driftwood polished to a shine. The other wall held shelves full of books, rows and rows of books. No TV in sight. And that was it. All very minimalist, if Erik had to put a name to it.

Erik jumped as an orange and white-stripped cat wound its way between Erik's feet, and rubbed its body against Erik's leg.

"You have a cat." It came out more accusatory that Erik had intended.

"Yeah. Sorry, are you allergic?" Ryan came back holding two chilled bottles and handed one to Erik.

"No, no, I'm not. I just... you don't seem like a cat person."

Ryan bent over and scooped up the offending kitty and held him up against his chest. The cat meowed again and licked at Ryan's bare skin. "Caesar, don't do that," Ryan gently admonished.

Erik couldn't quite digest what he saw. Ryan's expression completely changed as he spoke with his pet. Gone was the quiet reservation and the practiced grin and shrug; instead, his smile was genuinely happy, no façade, no mask. Ryan looked lighter.

And that cat was still licking at Ryan. Despite his unconvincing scold, Ryan didn't seem to care that he'd become an ice cream cone for Caesar. It reminded Erik of what Ryan's skin tasted like, the saltiness of a fresh layer of sweat. Erik coughed and took a large gulp of his beer.

The sound brought Ryan back to the present and his mask slipped quickly back into place. "Sorry," he murmured as he dropped Caesar to the floor. Erik wasn't sure whom the apology was meant for.

"I don't have much furniture, but you can have a seat on the... couch, bed, thing," Ryan gestured to the neatly tucked white sheets and artfully arranged pillows. Wooden coasters suddenly appeared on the coffee table. "So you wanted to talk."

Erik sighed and took the seat Ryan indicated. "Yeah, um... I just- I just want to understand why you don't want to do another scene. You were phenomenal. You should read the comments we're getting—people can't get enough of it. We're at 100,000 views and it's only been online for less than a week!"

Erik stopped because the more he said, the more uncomfortable Ryan looked. He was sitting on the edge of the couch/bed, shoulders hunched, and legs bouncing up and down. His focus appeared to be on the bottle in his hand, and shredding the wet label into as many pieces as he could manage.

"Hey," Erik shifted closer and reached for Ryan's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Ryan tensed under Erik's touch, but he didn't pull away.

"I don't like it," came the admission, whispered under his breath so quietly that Erik almost didn't hear.

"Don't like what?" Erik tried to turn Ryan toward him, to get Ryan to make eye contact. "Doing the scene? You seemed pretty into it—I mean, that's why everyone loves it so much. Either that or you're one hell of an amazing actor."

Ryan jumped from his seat and dislodged Erik's hand. He paced to the other end of his studio and raked a hand through his tussled hair.

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tagBDSMTaking Dictation: Weekend Surprise

Taking Dictation: Weekend Surprise

"Surprise Me" was all she saw when the Friday print-out icon appeared on the screen of the outer office monitor. After laying awake most of the night, Cynthia finally had an idea, but it would require getting up an hour earlier and getting to the office before He did.

When she stepped out of the elevator wearing a light-weight wool coat buttoned from hem to neckline the janitorial staff paused in surprise and gave her a long - slow - once-over. Cynthia pretended not to notice and shut the office door without uttering a word. The three women simply shrugged and returned to their cleaning.

Once inside, Cynthia quickly put away her things and slipped into His darkened office. It took her a few moments to unbutton the front of the coat. The task of folding the material was accomplished considerably faster before placing it in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. She checked the small digital clock on His desk, and hurried to slip out of the black sweater and black/white hounds tooth skirt set. Not surprisingly, she wore nothing but a sheer black lace teddy and stockings underneath the outfit.

It shouldn't be much longer, she thought. Glancing down, Cynthia decided to leave on the lace patterned thigh-hi stockings. They almost matched the sheer lace of the teddy she'd found at Victoria's Secret. She did a slow turn in front of the mirror on the wall across from His desk. The crimson heels really popped against the black, and both highlighted the creamy paleness of her complexion. Cyn tucked the sweater and skirt in the same drawer with her coat, and closed it with a little nudge of one stiletto tipped heel.

The sound of a key being inserted into the door lock sent her scurrying around His desk. She dropped to her knees, and backed up until her bare bottom was pressed against the wooden panel that blocked the front of the desk. The door opened to the sound of His voice humming softly. Cyn bit her bottom lip to hold back a nervous giggle.

The surprise would be ruined if He found her under the desk this early in the game. Her plan was simple, unzip Master's pants after he sat down and settle in for a morning of sucking. The plan was without a single flaw, or so she thought.

Then just as the chair began to roll back in preparation of his sitting down, there was a quick knock on the door. Mr. Walters paused, then pushed the chair back under the desk. Cynthia heard the door open and what sounded like gruffly whispered greetings, then a pause before she saw two pairs of highly polished shoes step out into the hall and the door closed again.

Perplexed, she placed both hands on the carpeted floor and started to crawl out from under the desk. But the sound of the doorknob turning stopped her and she quickly pressed back against the desk front again as close as she could get. When the chair finally rolled out from under the desk, Cynthia's shoulders sagged with relief. Unsure whether or not she should put her plan into action, Cynthia licked her lips and waited.

She could hear the pushbutton tones of a number being dialed on Mr. Walters' office phone. When he began to speak, she realized he was ordering a light lunch for two to be delivered at 11:30 sharp. She smiled at his thoughtfulness. When she heard him request champagne, whipped creme and fresh strawberries it was all she could do not to moan with remembered pleasure of the Saturday a few weeks earlier.

Master had positioned her on the desktop, and used her body as a serving dish. Pouring the fizzy champagne over her breasts and belly, then licking it off. He'd pushed a whole berry into her hole ... point first ... then eating until nothing was left but the sticky juice. When the last berry was gone, he'd licked until she had cum screaming, and he growled that the taste of her juices were sweeter than the freshest strawberries.

The memory of that day sent chills from her fingers to her toes, and left her wet, shaking in need. With that need riding her hard, she reached up and wiggled a finger under the tip of the zipper tab . Then she finally closed two fingers on it and began slowly working it down. She'd expected him to react to her touch, and was a bit surprised that he didn't. So she kept tugging until her fingers reached the bottom and were able to wiggle themselves past the zipper opening.

In fact, Master merely spread his knees, and scooted down a bit more in the chair. This gave her room to lean up and ease his semi-hard cock through the opening she'd created. Resting her chin on the bunched fabric at his crotch, she opened her mouth and guided the flared head between her lips. Sucking lightly caused it to harden, she curled one hand around the base and began to slowly stroke until the first drop of precum formed on the tip.

Moaning at the salty flavor, she closed her eyes and latched on and began to work her lips up and down the long hard shaft. So intent on getting what she wanted, Cynthia merely followed as he began to slowly ease the chair back away from the desk. She opened her eyes as he stood, her mouth noisily sucking on the head. When he tangled one hand in her thick mane and began to rock against her, she whimpered around him.

Growling, he looked across the folder and paper littered desk top and said, "See what a good little cocksucker she is, Reggie?"

Stunned, she turned her head and precum trailed across one cheek. Sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the desk was a man she'd never seen before. As she watched in shock, he stood up and walked around the end of Mr. Walters' desk. Confused, she pushed back against her Master's legs as if trying to hide.

"Open the front of his pants, pet, touch his cock. I want to watch you." She heard from overhead.

Hesitantly she reached out a trembling hand and unhooked the fastening at the waistband of his slacks. They immediately fell open, and she knew he'd unzipped them while he sat watched her suck on the cock rubbing in slow circles against her cheek. Curling her fingers around the top of his boxers, she pulled down the elastic waistband and the heavy shaft of his cock sprang free. It was an inch or two shorter than her Master's, but thicker around in girth.

Master's hand tightened in her hair as he guided her mouth towards the dark red mushroom shaped tip. "Lick it, pet. Show me how it looks when you taste me."

A muffled groan escaped as her lips parted and the unknown man thrust his hips forward, filling her mouth with thick hard cock.

"Oh fuck! Her mouth is so hot and wet around me!" the man growled. He held perfectly still, it was as if he were savoring the feel of her tongue cradling his shaft. After a few moments, he finally spoke. "Will you allow me to use her?"

Her Master nodded, "I will allow you to use any part of her, except her ass. That belongs to me, it was virgin until I took it and it will remain virgin to everyone except me. And most importantly, my property is valuable and must be treated with the utmost care."

"You have My word that she will not be abused in any manner. Such beauty should never be permanently marred, or scarred." was the rather obtuse answer the man gave.

Unable to believe what she was hearing, Cynthia saw them shake hands just above her head, as if closing a deal ... with her as part of the contract.

"My pet, Mr. Khan and I have been business associates for many years. You will submit to Him as if to Me. Do you understand?", her Master said gravely.

"Yes Sir.", she answered softly with the faint hint of fear woven through her words.

"Very good, pet. Now, you will address him as Master Khan when you are required to respond to a command. Is that clear?" Mr. Walters waited for her response.

Nodding slowly, her voice almost a whisper when she finally answered. "Yes Sir."

"Stand up, little one. Take off the teddy, but leave on the stockings ... and the heels are a very nice touch." Master Khan said as He eased back slowly, withdrawing His cock from her mouth.

"yes, Master Khan." Cynthia said, as she arose from her knees. Reaching back, she carefully slid the straps off her shoulders, then slowly shimmied out of the sheer fabric and laid it in a tangled heap on the desk.

"Good girl." Her Master murmured before he walked around the desk, sat down in a chair beside the drapery covered window and crossed his legs.

Beckoning her closer, Master Khan took her hand and led her around to the other side of the desk as well. A briefcase sat on the floor beside the chair where he'd been watching. He picked it up and laid it on the desktop. The sharp click made her jump when he released the twin locks. Curiosity made her lean a little to the side, so that she could peek at what was inside the case. Her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly glanced back at her Master. He merely smiled reassuringly.

Inside the opened briefcase were a couple sets of shiny new handcuffs, some coiled lengths of red and white nylon rope, several different sized vibrators, and a black flogger made of suede. Any one of which would have made her wet and ready, if her Master had been the one whose hand held it. She looked up at the man she did not know, but whom she would be serving for her Master's pleasure. Fear hovered on the fringes of her mind and she trembled.

He turned with a set of 'cuffs in one hand and held out the other. She hesitantly took His hand and a faint sound escaped her lips when the cold steel locked around her wrist. He led her over to the conference table where she knew re-position able O-rings were attached to all four corners, and in the middle along each side. Locked into any two would put her in an even more subservient position. Obviously he's been here and done this before, she thought. The look on Mr. Walters face confirmed her suspicions, as he continued to watch in silence.

Locking the other wristlet through the O-ring, he moved to the other side of her body and locked the second set of cuffs around her wrist, turning her, so that the swell of her asscheeks pressed against the table before he locked the wristlet into it's corresponding 'ring. By this time, she was placed in such a position that both arms were extended out to each side. The handcuffs would keep her relatively immobile, yet upright. Tugging carefully to test the strength of her trap only confirmed that she was completely at the mercy of this man, this Master Khan.

"Nice positioning, Reggie, very nice indeed." Mr.Walters murmured approvingly.

His words only reinforced her feeling of helplessness as Master Khan placed both hands on the table, one on either side of her. This forced her to lean back slightly, as he was quite a bit taller. When she tried to lean away, He followed. The smile on his face seemed to grow darker as he peered down at her.

"He won't rescue you, little one. As you can see, he has given you to Me for the day, and I am allowed to take pleasure in your submission." Master Khan whispered softly. "And I give you My promise that I will take great pleasure in using your delectable little body in many different ways."

Cynthia didn't even attempt to hold back the whimper. As he straightened, his hands cupped her breasts ... squeezing slowly. She gasped as the pressure increased, along with her heart rate. The tighter he squeezed, the faster her gasps became ... until she finally cried out. When she did, His grasp slowly relaxed.

"Very good, little one.", as he bent to gently kiss the deep red finger marks left on the firm globes that still rested in his open palms. The light brush of his lips, combined with the stinging ache, teased a moan from her open lips. "You have trained her well, my friend."

Master Khan sank to one knee and wrapped his hands around her stocking covered ankles. Very slowly he guided the red heels forward until her elbows and forearms, resting on the table, were all that kept her from falling to the floor. Cynthia groaned at the awkward position, but made no attempt to stand back up. Not even when he began to slide her left foot further away from the right. He continued to separate them until her knees were a little more than a shoulder width apart. Then he sat back and looked up at her flushed cheeks.

"She is the image of beauty ... unlike anything I have ever beheld." Master Khan said, as he turned to look at her Master. "I have no doubt of your answer, but I must ask ... Would you consider giving her to me, Mitch?"

Cynthia held her breath, the flush paling slightly as she waited for His answer. "My friend, you do not own anything as valuable as this woman is to me. Therefore, I must decline the compliment of your offer."

Master Khan nodded with a faint smile. "It is as I expected, but you will not think less of me for offering. She is a prize that any man would wish to possess."

He slid both hands up the inside of her spread legs, pausing to lightly strum his fingertips across the backs of both knees. The teasing movements caused her thigh muscles to twitch, and she shivered hard as her hands clinched into twin fists. Watching, Her Master chuckled softly at the familiar reaction.

Grasping her knees firmly in his hands, Master Khan spread them wider and pushed his face between her thighs. Taking an audible deep breath as he pushed up, grinding the bridge of his nose against her mound. Cynthia cried out as the scalding tip of his tongue snaked out and wiggled it's way through her tight-lipped slit, twisting and stabbing at the tender flesh.

Shifting onto both knees between the red heels, Master Khan reached between her legs and cupped her ass. He forced her against his mouth, while keeping her off balance enough to accentuate how helpless she was to resist his command. The staccato thrust of his tongue against the opening to her vagina began to stir the desired results. Moisture slowly formed, drops leaking onto his tongue as it pushed and pulled between her rapidly swelling lips.

"Master, please!", she gasped suddenly as her body tightened.

Master Khan pulled back and growled up at her, "Do not cum, little one. not even a drop. I have not given you permission to cum. DO.....NOT......CUM!!" He snarled softly.

"Ohgdd, please Master Khan, please let me cum!!!" she begged between sobs.

His only response was to pinch her clit between his right thumb and forefinger. Her body jerked at the stinging ache, and her hands curled around the lip of the table edge to keep from falling.

Gasping, she began to beg, "Please Master Khan, I'll be Your good girl. Please let Your good girl cum, it hurts so much. Please Master Khan, let Your good girl cum for You." as the tears began to slowly slip down her cheeks.

Peeling her pussy lips apart with his thumbs, he leaned in and hissed against her clit. "Cum, little one, cum for Master Khan." As the last syllable crawled across her damp skin, his lips locked around her vaginal opening and he began to suck. The combination of his words and the pressure sent her rocketing over the edge. Screaming wildly as her body jerked and thrashed against his mouth, her sweet juices spilled in a rush across his tongue.

He continued to suck and lap at her soaked slit until her body sagged weakly against his mouth. Slowly his hands moved away from her pussy. One cupped her ass, the other moved up to twist and pull at her nipples. Each sent a shiver throughout her already trembling body. Mr.Walters smiled as he watched his deliciously erotic little sub pant and shake as Reggie continued to torment her quivering body. She whimpered and begged brokenly, but he had only begun to enjoy the sweetness of her tight little pussy.

Biting his way down the inside of her left thigh, Master Khan worked the red shoes further away from the table. Every inch put her more off-balance. He could hear the strain in each breath she took. He smiled at the deliciousness of the soft sounds as her chest heaved, causing the faintly bruised globes to sway.

Once she was positioned perfectly, Master Khan stood and half turned to look at her Master. "I'm going to fuck your sweet little sub, Mitch. I'm going to take her deliciously wet pussy and spill my seed into it."

Cynthia cried out, "Please, Master! Please don't make me do this!"

Her eyes sought out those of Mr. Walters, but he merely nodded and said, "Give him your best, pet. You are Mine and Mine alone. There is nothing he can, or will, do that could change that. You are Mine."

Without a word, or any sort of warning, Master Khan stood suddenly and stepped into the spread vee of her thighs. His cock was hard and ready, and as his hands grasped her hips in a bruising grip ... it thrust full force into her opening. Startled, she could do nothing more than scream at the almost brutal spearing of her tender flesh. With a series of guttural grunts, he pounded her body until she felt a hot gush of fluid spew from the head of his cock, flooding her bruised walls. Holding still, he panted against the column of her throat as his cum leaked out around the shaft still embedded in her throbbing hole.

"Now, little one. I will take you as one with your beauty should be used.", he whispered against the lobe of her ear.

Stepping back, his cock slid wetly from her body ... allowing the rest of his cum to dribble down the insides of both thighs. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he lifted her up until she was leaning against the edge of the table on shaky legs. Tears of shame gathered in her green eyes as she looked up and found Mr.Walters watching her closely. He arose from the chair and walked across to where she stood, as the tears slowly rolled down across her flushed cheeks.

Mr.Walters gently kissed away each tear. "You are perfection, pet. Following my wishes is the greatest compliment you could give to your Master. Never forget that."

Swallowing her sobs, she did not struggle when Master Khan released the handcuffs and turned her to face the conference table. She didn't fight when he re-locked her wrists, placing her in the exact opposite position she'd been in earlier. She continued to submit when he stepped up behind her and used the toe of his boot to separate her feet once more.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip to hold back the shuddering sobs that threatened to escape when she felt his hand against her back, pushing her forward against the chilly table top. Her hair spilled forward, hiding the flushed and tear stained cheeks from the two dominants behind her. Two more well places nudges and her legs were spread lewdly apart.

"Remember Reggie, her ass belongs to Me, and only Me." Mr. Walters said as he walked slowly around the conference table to take up the position in front of his pet's face. "Look at Me, pet, I wish to see your lovely face when you cum again."

Shivering in anticipation, she looked up at His face. "Yes, Master.", she breathed softly.

No matter how she tried to relax, when the fabric of Master Khan's slacks brushed across the skin of her legs ... her body tightened painfully. She was prepared for the burning pain of the first hard thrust into her vagina, she was even ready for the sharp sting of his hand against her asscheeks. What she was not ready for, was the gentle stroke of fingers across her nipples when Master Khan leaned against her back and reached around to cup the full mounds.

Murmuring against the back of her neck, "Such a sweet little submissive. You have given me a great deal of pleasure today. Your Master has much to be proud of in you, little one." as his lips nuzzled the soft skin just below her hairline. "Because you've pleased both your Master and Myself, I'm going to make you cum many times, little one."

She felt his cock push between her spread legs and began to stiffen against the pain to come. "Shhhh, relax little submissive, I promise I will not hurt you again. Relax for your Master."

Mr. Walters' finger slid under her chin, lifting it so that her gaze locked onto His and He smiled gently. Her lips trembled, but she slowly began to relax. As her body loosened up, Master Khan's cock began to rock slowly along her cum slick pussy lips. He didn't attempt to enter her vagina, he merely rubbed a little slower each time.

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