Story 2: Sounding Love
(Jack/Martin)
I can't believe how my life had changed. Ever since that night when I came home only to end up raped in my own bed… But it hadn't really been rape. Somewhere in my mind I'd known all along it was Jack, but I hadn't known it consciously, and that was why I'd been both terrified and more turned on that I could ever remember.
Yep, I'd definitely been terrified, but then fear had always been the biggest turn on for me, fear and being forced to surrender… Somehow Jack had figured that all out, not to mention how much I'd wanted him to be the one who scared me. How much I'd wanted him to force me… to take me… to make me afraid even as I had to submit to him…
And he'd done just that.
And, once he had, I knew I belonged to him, utterly and completely, for as long as he would have me.
God was he good. Jack was taking me to places I'd never been before, introducing me to new sensations, new passions, higher levels of arousal than I had ever known in my heretofore rather vanilla sex life. Now I can look back on all the relationships I wasted my time on in the past and I couldn't imagine, even for a moment, why I'd thought that that was pleasure. It was so far from the places Jack was taking me to as to be pathetic. But then it's hard to experience fear when you're with a woman… If I never slept with another woman the rest of my life, that was fine by me, as long as Jack was there.
Sex with him was like an addiction, a habit I had to feed, and I kept coming back, wanting more and more, wanting to know what new heights my passion could reach.
My head kept telling me to slow down, but my body yearned for his touch, his domination, it yearned to reach new heights of awareness and pleasure under his guidance. And he seemed more than willing to instruct me.
For safety's sake we had rented a loft under a corporate name I set up, so it couldn't easily be tracked back to either of us, because OPR would gladly toss both our asses right out of the FBI if they caught wind of what we were doing. The loft was our getaway spot, a safe place where I could surrender to Jack's instruction…
We slipped away to meet there as often as work allowed, which wasn't nearly as often as I wished. It had been over three weeks since our last visit, but now my hands were handcuffed to the brass ring set into the wall, and I was kneeling, facing the wall, on a soft futon. We were beyond the spanking and the light lashing that had made my ass, inner thighs, cock, and balls red and ultrasensitive to the touch. We were even beyond the soothing and arousing attention his lips and tongue had paid to my swollen thighs, that tender kissing had reached a crescendo of light biting that had had me screaming for mercy.
We were now on to the next phase, and I as trembling in anticipation.
He knelt between my thighs, very close to me, his chest rubbing against my shoulder blades, his rock-hard cock rubbing between my swollen thighs. He had one hand firmly pressed against my lower belly, holding my ass against his pelvis, and in the other hand he held a purple ribbed and nubbed dildo, pressing it between my lips. I took it in as I would have willingly taken in his cock – as I, indeed, already had taken in his cock before I'd been handcuffed to the wall – and I made love to it as I knew he wanted me to, sucking in its length, knowing that, soon enough, he would be working the not-too-thick six inches into my puckered hole.
Jack chuckled. He did when he was engrossed in what he was doing and when, it seemed, he was especially aroused by an activity. I had learned in earlier sessions that it marked his being in a zone of his own while he worked my body. I had come to both love and fear – in the best way possible – the sound of it.
He pulled the moistened dildo from between my lips and sat back on his haunches briefly, lathering the tool up with lube.
"Your body's amazing, Martin… an instrument of beauty… and I'm going to play you like a violin." He chuckled.
I moaned, longing for him to hold me close, to dominate me.
And then he was covering me, and I felt the bulbous-capped end of the silicone dildo against my throbbing asshole.
"Don't hold back your responses," he instructed, which he hardly needed to have done, because I lurched and arched my back and cried out my pleasure-pain and ecstasy from the moment the slick dildo entered me, until he had screwed it in all the way to the hilt. I cried out as I was stretched and rubbed, feeling each ripple and nub working the walls of my canal. It wasn't pain, really, rather some kind of pleasure-pain that existed on some unaccountable border between the two, and I reveled in it, longed for it, craved it.
"You know this is nothing compared to me," Jack growled, and soon he was proving that.
"Stand up," Jack ordered, and I did. "Spread your legs."
I opened my legs wide, my torso slanted down to where my hands were still cuffed to the wall. Jack exchanged the swirling rotation of the dildo for his own thicker, longer cock. I groaned and grunted, cried out again, this time in welcome as his heavily veined cock plowed up into me. Pleasure-pain exploded inside my ass and I shook with the force of it.
When I felt the patch of hair at his root grind against the rim of my hole I sighed. He leaned forward and covered my nipples with both his hands and started to worry them with pinching fingers and nails. Then he leaned his lips up to my ear and asked me if I was ready to be played.
I whimpered, fear mixing with desire, driving me wild with need. I moaned my desperation for him to take me, long and hard and furiously, then cried out once more as he nipped my earlobe and began to pump me hard, in long strokes, punishing my ass.
My knees gave up to the onslaught of his vigorous fucking, and I collapsed onto the futon, Jack coming down with me without losing purchase on my hole. He covered me and kept pistoning his cock into me. I was pushing my ass back at him with each stroke, which caused my engorged dick to slide across the futon, and, before long I added another come stain to the surface of the material.
With a lurch and a cry of victory, Jack spent himself inside me, and we lay there, panting and sighing, until we had regained a regular pattern of breathing.
While he was uncuffing me and leading me off to the shower, he said, "Get dressed after we've showered. I want to take you somewhere."
I nodded, a little disappointed. When we were in the loft together I went about naked, or wore a sleeveless tunic that fell to mid-thigh, which he could easily reach beneath in order to grope me whenever he desired. Still, I was curious about where he might be taking me, so I offered no resistance.
After we had showered, we went out to eat.
On the way to the small Italian restaurant we both enjoyed, Jack told me that I'd want to build up all the strength I could for his after-dinner surprise. That set off a flutter of anxiousness in my groin that let me know I'd be spending the meal half hard, and I did.
Dinner, thankfully, passed swiftly, both of us enjoying our meals, and a single glass of red wine, then it was off to the lower east side, and a club I'd never visited or even heard about.
As we waited to be admitted I realized it was a private club, and my interest piqued, especially when Jack reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out two back masks for us to wear. The masks covered half our faces, and we put them on before we stepped inside.
The interior of the club was all wood, metal, and glass. The chairs and stools were all leather. The low-ceilinged space felt like it ought to be smoke-filled, but this was a non-smoking establishment, for which I was grateful – I hated the smell and the fumes irritated my throat. It was teeming with men in various stages of undress, arousal, and activity. There were bars set up on two sides, and plenty of small tables with chairs, mostly occupied, and not all by a single person. All the seating was arranged around a good-sixed platform that dominated the center of the space. Spotlights shone down on the activity taking place there.
Two men were performing on the platform. There was a wedge-like cushion in the center of the space, with arm and leg restraints at each corner. A youngish, lithe blond was reclining on the wedge, his ass tilted up at the higher end of the slant, his torso draped back toward the lower end, his head propped up on the slightly elevated end. His arms were bent up, his wrists cuffed in the restraints on the sides of the wedge beside his head. His torso was stretched out fully, showing off his fine musculature, which was more like a swimmer's than a body builder's. His ankles were cuffed at the sides of the other end of the wedge, ensuring that the young man's legs were spread wide open.
A slightly bulkier man wearing a headsman-style mask that covered his head and came down to below his eyes was hovering between the young man's legs. I could tell the younger man was both beleaguered and enjoying himself by the kinds of noises he was making.
I stood beside Jack, watching them, while Jack scanned the room for someplace to sit. The masked man was covered with jewelry piercings I noted, and I wondered what it would feel like if Jack had a Prince Albert like that…
The trussed-up youth had one of the longest cocks I'd ever seen, but it wasn't particularly thick.
Jack led me over to one of the bars and perched on a barstool, pulling my ass into his pelvis between his spread and possessing knees. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder.
He ordered two ginger ales for us while he was folding my body into his, and while we waited for them to arrive, my eyes finally adjusted completely to the dimly lit room, undulating with men in heat and full rut, many of their eyes riveted on the stage.
Jack worked his hand under the waistband of my trousers, cupped my balls, and played with my cock. I moaned softly, my attention returning to the stage as well. The blond's straining muscles rippled. His head was thrown back, and he was emitting loud moans from a slack, stretched mouth.
And then I saw why, and I involuntarily tensed inside Jack's embrace. The dominator was now kneeling at the end of the high side of the wedge, between the blond's wide-spread, cuffed legs. He was holding the end of a silver, curved, rather thin wand between two of his fingers. And he was slowly pushing it into the piss slit of the younger man. I trembled with dread, and felt my breath catch.
As it slid in farther, the young man panted hard, crying out a series of yeses, which was the only indication I had that he was enjoying this invasion of the most intimate area of his body. The very idea had me breaking out in a cold sweat. It quite simply terrified me, and I started to tremble.
The masked man twirled the wand slighting inside the slit, and the young man groaned and grunted his ecstasy.
And then the wand was being extracted – slowly and dramatically. A sigh went through the audience. When extracted, it looked to me like a good six inches had been inside the slit.
I felt my knees weaken, and I shook harder.
"You all right?" Jack asked quietly in my ear, his hand sliding out of my pants.
"It…" I started, but my mouth had gone completely dry. "That scares the shit of me," I managed to whisper. I felt like I couldn't breathe, and I wasn't sure if it was what was happening on stage, or the fact that Jack was holding me so tightly, almost smothering me in his embrace. He chuckled softly.
"That why you got hard so fast?" he asked, nuzzling the side of my neck.
I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn't know what to say. Fear and sex were an extremely potent mix for me, much more so than pain and sex. Watching what was happening up there might scare the crap out of me, but it also had me so turned on I could feel the first drops of precome wetting my briefs.
I wiggled, and Jack's embrace slackened, but it tightened again as we both watched the masked man take a thicker, slightly longer wand from a case and slowly insert that one inside the slit in the younger man's cock, now harder and even longer than before.
I started shaking in Jack's arms, panting, sweat trickling down my sides and back. I wanted to bolt, to escape what I was seeing, but I couldn't stop watching. I couldn't move. And I was so hard now I could barely stand it.
The blond strained at his cuffs and screamed to the ceiling. Once more a slide in, and a swirl, and the wave of a heavy sigh crossed the audience. And then the long slide back out.
The third wand was even thicker than the second. The youth's piss slit was being stretched open to where I could see, even from where I was standing, that the hole was gaping. I felt my balls draw up and knew that if Jack touched me, I'd come right there where I stood.
I squeezed my eyes closed as that third wand disappeared inside the young man's penis. I couldn't watch this; I didn't even want to think about this. My own penis was feeling sympathetic pain, but I knew that it was really just the fact I was so hard I felt like my cock was trapped inside a vise.
I tensed and shook harder, and Jack whispered into my ear, "So, what do you think?"
"What do I think?" I whispered back, dumfounded. "What do I think of what's happening up there?"
"It's called sounding," Jack murmured against my ear. "I take it you aren't impressed."
"Impressed is not the word for it," I said, then whimpered, which told him all he needed to know about what I thought about it.
He changed tactics. "I meant, what you think of the restraint wedge. Does that look like fun?"
"Uh, yeah… Yes, it does," I admitted, opening my eyes again to take another look at the wedge, and seeing a fourth, even thicker wand being inserted.
While this wand was going in, the young man, who had apparently remained calm for the third wand, cried out again, declaring that he was about to come, and for his tormentor to get the wand out. And the masked man followed the direction, sliding the wand out just ahead of a prodigious spurting of semen onto the masked man's belly.
Amid applause in the audience, the masked man laughed, licking off the young man's penis before he started forcing his pinkie finger into the now greatly enlarged piss slit.
The young blond was moaning and writhing again and I was nearly writhing right along with him.
"That's why we're here," Jack said, returning to our conversation. "I've rented a room for this evening, one that has one of those wedges."
He stopped, our attention returning to the stage. The young blond man was being uncuffed, and the wedge pushed off the stage. It was replaced with a thicker rectangle, some sort of pillowy-padded platform with cuffs at the four corners again. The young man went down on this on his belly, and his wrists were cuffed at the upper corners. His legs were bent up on the sides of the platform, with his upper thighs strapped at the sides and his ankles cuffed in close to the bottom corners. This arrangement presented his ass to the bottom edge of the platform, his long cock hanging down the bottom edge.
The masked man knelt at the young man's ass and began tonguing his hole as he stroked his hand up and down his own cock.
"As I was saying," Jack went on, "are you interested in trying a wedge?"
"Uh, yeah, sure."
"Now?"
"Now? Uh, yeah, okay." Anything to get away from the possibility of seeing the blond sounded again.
Our drinks untouched, we worked our way through the crowd to a door at the other side of the room, I glanced back. The masked man was working his cock into the ass of the young blond. He had one palm pushing down on the small of the young man's back and had his other fist buried in the young man's longish hair, pulling his head back so everyone could see the contortions on his face, and clearly hear his cries as the man's cock plowed into him.
I was all atremble when we reached the small room toward the end of a thickly carpeted hallway. Only a centered platform, supporting another one of those wedges, occupied the space, but there was a closed door across from the one we entered that lead to a bathroom, or maybe a bedroom.
Jack slowly undressed me and cuffed me, facing up, on the wedge.
The wedge was extremely comfortable, and sensual, covered as it was in some super soft material I couldn't identify. Then, as I watched, Jack slowly undressed himself. He looked so damn good, especially now that he was working out on a regular basis, and I started to drip at the mere sight of his long, thick cock.
Then he did the unexpected. He blindfolded me, something he hadn't done since that first night.
"Jack?" I asked, still a little nervous after what I'd seen earlier.
"Easy, Martin," he replied. "I want you to experience everything I do to you tonight just from the sensation of touch."
"Oh… okay," I said, a slight tingle of anxiousness making me harder, and forcing more precome to drip from my cock.
I heard him as he crouched over me, then felt it as he kissed me on the lips. Then he kissed me on each nipple in turn – right before he attached clamps to them. This was an entirely new, not unpleasant experience for me, and I whimpered a bit at the tightness pinching my tender nubs, but it wasn't really painful, just right there on the edge of pleasure and pain – my favorite place.
Jack chuckled softly.
I knew I was entirely at his mercy. And that was exactly where I wanted to be, exactly what I needed. Like I said, I'm well and truly addicted.
I wanted to experience all the edges of arousal and sexual stimulation. I wanted him to frighten me… to force me like he had that first night…
I relaxed, and he thumbed the nipple clamps, making me whimper again as pleasure-pain exploded across my chest. I was beginning to enjoy what the blindfold was doing to my sense of touch.
Jack was tonguing and nipping my inner thighs now, working his way to my asshole. When he thought me prepared, he started fucking me.
He was riding me bareback, and the sensation of his thick, veined cock sliding across my ass canal walls had me moaning and groaning in appreciation.
He dug his fingers into my thighs, and every once in a while lifted a hand to tweak the nipple clamps, or slap my flank with an open palm, giving me a full range of sensations which had me squirming and whimpering.
The wedge was wonderful. It opened and imprisoned me fully to Jack's onslaught. The domination was total.
Or so I thought. Jack had more planned.
Just before he came he pulled out of me, and I felt his thick, hard cock being slapped against my thighs, then my belly, and then against my chest. He took my lips in his and punished my tongue. Then he was kneeling over my chest, between my upraised and imprisoned arms and felt his cock graze my lips. I opened my mouth.
He forced his cock between my lips and I deep throated him to ejaculation, almost gagging as I swallowed his repeated spurts of semen.
Then he was off of me, and there was silence.
A chuckle several long seconds later let me know he hadn't left the room.
I jumped when I felt his hand on my cock, cupping it at the root, on the underside, and holding it up at a raised angle, my hips already being raised by the wedge. Then I turned stone cold and an icy chill raced through my body as I felt the cold metal tip of a wand touch my piss slit.
I screamed as the first wand slowly entered me. Sensations washed over me in a storm of reaction: terror, violation, stuffing, remarkably little pain, an electric zing through my body, my cock engorging, an indescribable feeling of sensual pleasure, enhanced by the mere thought of now having had every orifice of my body dominated and fucked by the man who owned me – body and soul.
"Relax, relax," he whispered in a soft, soothing tone. "Relax, Martin, go with the feeling."
I gasped as a sucking, empty feeling accompanied the wand sliding out. There was a strange sense of loss and emptiness when it was gone.
But I was still terrified. "Jack," I moaned, "please, no… no more…"
Then a thicker wand entered me, making me scream again despite myself. Panic flared and I strained against my restraints, but I was drowning in a sea of sensations that I hoped would never end.
I tightened up.
"Easy, Martin," Jack crooned to me. "Easy… You feel that? Feel what I'm doing to you?"
"Jack," I gasped, "no— Stop—" But I was relaxing, my body betraying my panicked mind. I felt the wand glided up through my urethra, and I knew I was about to come. "Jack! Please! I'm gonna come!"
The wand glided back out, and I did blow. The orgasm was incredible, one of the most powerful I'd ever felt, maybe the most, and that was saying something, given what Jack could do to me. It felt like it might not ever end.
A husky chuckle from Jack told me he was enjoying this as much as I was. Then, as I started to come down, I felt his tongue cleaning my penis.
That's it then, I thought. Yet another, deeper, darker experience, and it was good, so damn good.
But then an even thicker wand touched my piss slit, pushed in, stretching me. Jack chuckled.
I cried out. "Oh, God, oh, God… Jack. No! Jack…" I whimpered. I moaned. I writhed in the restraints, and I felt my cock begin to fill so swiftly it made my head spin.
Jack laughed louder, and twisted the sound.
"Jack!" I screamed, feeling this one diving deeper than the others had. "Jack! No!"
"Shh," he hushed into my ear, then kissed my temple and I realized my tears were wetting the material of the blindfold. "Easy, Martin… You know I'd never really hurt you."
My mind knew that, my heart, maybe even my body, but there was just something about what he was doing that petrified me. My body shook with terror, but my cock was already hard again, my balls tight with the pleasure the fear created.
I heard an odd sound and I cocked my head to the side, trying to determine what it was, and where it might be coming from.
"Do you hear that?" Jack asked me, and I heard the metallic pinging ring once again.
"What is it?" I asked, my voice tight with the fear that held me in its grip.
"That, Martin, is a tuning fork," Jack said, and I heard the note struck again. A moment later I felt the vibration of the pitch as it raced down the metal sound, vibrating my cock at the same time.
There was no pain, but I screamed, writhing again.
Jack struck the tuning fork over and over, touching it to the tip of the sound, sending the shockwaves racing down the inside my cock.
"Jack!" I cried. "Stop! No! Please!"
But he didn't stop, and he didn't pull the sound out either. Instead, he held it in place as he slowly slid his hard cock back up my ass, then started to fuck me.
It only took three passes of his cock over my prostrate before I was begging, "Jack! Please! I'm gonna come!"
I felt the wand start to slide free, but he stopped with an inch or so still inside my slit.
"Jack!" I cried, louder, more frightened now.
He chuckled and fucked me harder, faster.
I screamed. The sound was pulled free an instant before I came again, harder than the first time.
Jack's fingers gripped my hips, cock stabbing me hard and deep, then I felt him coming inside me, and that made me writhe more inside the restraints.
I was yelling, the words lost in the sensations that had taken over my body. Like a bad case of dry heaves, my cock was still coming, but there was nothing left. I moaned and whimpered, begged, pleaded… And Jack just chuckled, his cock slowly going soft inside my ass.
I have no idea how long it lasted, but when it was over, I couldn't move.
Jack finally slipped free of my still-weakly-clutching ass and moved away. I heard the sound of water running, then the sounds of a shower coming on. He came back to me, uncuffed me, and removed the blindfold, then helped me to my feet. I stumbled along on rubbery legs to a bathroom, and a large shower stall that was big enough for several men.
Jack guided me under the water. He washed me, rinsed me, then took care of himself while I sat on a small shelf, my head hanging down nearly to my chest, too weak to move. The water was finally turned off and Jack helped me to my feet, dried me off, and then guided me into a small bedroom off the bathroom. There was a large, comfortable bed waiting for us, and he helped me climb in, then slid in behind me and covered us both us with the soft, warm blankets. He spooned behind me, holding me tightly.
I trembled, tears leaking from my eyes.
"Martin?" he asked after several minutes had passed. I snuggled back into him, and his arms tightened further. "Martin, talk to me."
"God, Jack," I managed, surprised that my teeth were chattering a little. "I was so scared…"
He waited, not saying anything.
"It was so good," I added, not sure if I ought to be ashamed or not.
He kissed my naked shoulder.
"Why does that scare me so badly?"
"I don't know."
"Will— Will you do it again?"
"Do you want me to?"
I wanted to yell "No!" but that would be a lie. "I— I don't know," I said. He knew what that meant.
"Go to sleep, Martin," he whispered.
My eyes were already closed, they had been since I'd lain down, and I knew I was already slipping away. "I love you," I managed to slur.
I felt another kiss on my shoulder, and a quiet, "I love you too, Martin," which was the sweet lullaby that sent me off to sleep.
Continues in Love Cubed