In the Den of the Beast

"You've been busy, too," notes Hasan, walking around me to inspect my bruised backside and feeling some of the marks with his gloved hand. I've healed pretty quickly, I suspect due to some unique properties of the feasters' saliva, but there are still thin red marks on my ass from Selena's switches.

"Does this excite you?" asks Hasan as he runs his fingers through the long hair of my tail. "Do you want me to see if I can open some of these back up?"

"Yes, master," I reply confidently.

"My, my, so well-behaved," he laughs. "Well, since you asked so nicely."

His slaps start with the gloved hand, but he moves to a slim paddle pretty quickly. It's a new angle for me to be spanked from, since I've always been bent over a knee or piece of furniture, but it makes for some very satisfying strokes when he gets an upward angle beneath my cheeks. He focuses on them one at a time, pulling my tail to one side for an unobstructed view and changing its position inside me slightly. Sometimes when switching sides he'll just use the tail to play with my hole, twisting and working it around to unlock fresh sensations. At these times, I feel the rush of excitement flooding to my patient cock, but this dissipates when my squirming ignites fresh pain from the weight on my balls or when he resumes paddling my damaged ass.

"Very good," he says, putting down the paddle and walking around to my front again. He's smiling, clearly enjoying himself as he snaps two clothespins to my nipples and works down my front, gathering skin and pinching it tight.

"Very good, but I'm a little hurt that you don't seem to trust me more. You squirmed with every spanking and look! You haven't even relaxed enough to let your pathetic little bitch cock get properly hard."

His brown eyes are gleaming as he looks up at my bound form. He licks just his thumb and forefinger and reaches out to tease me, tickling my shaft and giving me the most playful and slightest of strokes.

"What do you want from me, little Angel-bitch? I've already given you so much . . . what else could you possibly want from me?"

"Master, I'd like you to pleasure me."

"What was that?" he grins, gripping my twitching cock in his fist and squeezing until I cried out. "What did you ask me?"

"Master, if it pleases you, I'd love for you to eat my pathetic little bitch cock."

"Good," he replies, giving the weights on my balls a little tug as he kneels down so I cry out again. "It just so happens that that's precisely what I want, too."

He lifts the weights so the cruel pull of gravity is temporarily abated and takes my head into his mouth, rubbing it against the inside of his cheek. Free from pain, I can now focus entirely on enjoying this simple pleasure. I grow by degrees as he takes more and more of me into his warm lips, moaning and thanking him for his kindness, how good he is to me.

"Oh, God! Thank you, master, oh, thank you!" I shout as he takes me all the way down, his dark facial hair rubbing against my new smoothness. Without speaking, he drops the weights, holding me still with his mouth as he reaches around to grab some of the hair on my tail and work it around to fuck and suck me simultaneously.

My body is eager to climax that I blow my load quickly, surprising Hasan while he deepthroats me, although like a pro he's only surprised for a moment before coughing and standing up. He stands on his tiptoes and pulls my head in to kiss me, but sneakily uses that as a chance to force me to eat my own cum, expelling it into my mouth as soon as I part my lips. I swallow, begging him for more, so he returns to lick the latent dribbles off of my shrinking erection, transferring them to me with another passionate kiss.

It doesn't last, because he's soon slapping away the clothespins and smacking the reddened skin with his gloved fists.

"Oww!" I protest, "Fuck man, that hurts!"

"I'm sorry," he says, not sounding at all sorry as he flicks off another pair and punches my abdomen. "Does that mean you want me to stop?"

"No . . . master . . ." I say between strikes. "I . . . deserve this."

"Why do you deserve this?" he asks, knocking away the last clothespins and striking me repeatedly.

"I did not last long enough for you to enjoy your meal," I manage. "I was weak."

"Correct."

He runs his hands up and down me, caressing, then licking and kissing me like he can't get enough before returning to the dull, hard, smacks. Rather than going soft, I return to full mast almost immediately, much to his amusement.

"What a prime cut of meat I have on the hook today," he exclaims. "I might just get another meal out of you, yet! That was so much cum, though, I don't know if a pathetic bitch like you will have any more left inside. Should I look and see?"

"Please, master. I have so much more to give you."

At long last, he removes the weights and goes to the cabinet. I thought it was to fetch some new implement of torture, but he merely puts the weights away and then leaves the room after instructing me:

"You better be nice and hard by the time I return to inspect you. I still need you to cum two more times for me."

I pant heavily once he's gone, sweating heavily even in the cold air. This has to be one of the longest sessions I've ever endured, and it's not until Hasan is gone that I realize how taxing all of the attention and the prolonged suspension have been on me. I focus on maintaining my erection, thinking about Hasan stripping away that ridiculous rubber apron and taking me roughly over on the slab. I wanted to feel his curly black hair and rub his slick, amber skin—to smell sweat, spices, and my own salty cum on his breath. I will ask him, beg him to fuck me after whatever he's planned next.

Fortunately, I don't have to wait too much longer, as Hasan returns with a small cart that has an array of sterilized metal implements spread out on it. For a moment I somewhat stupidly think he's going to do some dentistry, but from the way he delicately lubricates one of the smaller instruments, I realize I have a different fate in store.

I don't have a lot of experience with sounding beyond the nurse's thermometer at the vet. James was always too rough and impatient for it to be a good way for the two of us to play together, but Hasan proves to be an expert at the careful, precise work. He takes my hard-on firmly in his left hand and uses the right to slowly work the sound into my urethra. The sensation on first entry is dreadful, but I grit my teeth and wait it out, moaning in pleasure once the tool has been left inside for a few seconds.

Hasan swaps out for a slightly larger tool, moving it gently inside then sliding up and down with subtle, subtle strokes. Most of the pain is now coming from how hard I am, my body begging and bursting for another release but some stubborn part of my biology insisting that it was too soon. We work our way up to his third-largest size, which he inserts and then just leaves inside me, massaging the sides on my cock with his thumbs while he keeps grips me with both hands and holds me firmly in place.

This time I can feel the orgasm rumbling up inside me, building gradually, and I start to try to buck my hips back and forth as Hasan continues his rubbing. He notices this and removes the sound, grabbing my cock for some firm, confident strokes.

"That calmed you down, didn't it boy? You were so quiet, so focused."

He speeds up, causing me to moan and strain against the ropes. When I'm just on the edge of exploding for the second time that night, he stops and backs away, leaving me to whine and plead for him to return.

"Please, master, please, I'm almost there. Please!"

Instead, he removes the gloves one at a time and then pulls the apron over his head so I can enjoy his nude form. He is leaking pre-cum all over his glowing, muscular front, and I'm pleased to see that he is as coated in sweat as I am. He fetches the scissors and starts cutting ropes.

As soon as my hands are free, I fall to the floor and start stroking my cock like I would when I'm alone, not even caring how sore my arms and shoulders are. I close my eyes as Hasan cuts the bonds on my legs and enter the final frenzy, my cock convulsing wildly. Warm jizz soon slicks my abs and chest, first mine and then Hasan's, for he has knelt next to me and frantically worked to finish himself off. Our juices pool and intermingle, and he reaches down to spread then around my chest with his palm, rubbing around and then scooping some up to do the same on his own chest. We are alike, one, brought down to the same level.

I assume we will stay there on the cold floor, panting, for some time, but Hasan calls out, much to my confusion:

"Master, we're ready."

Finale

"Get up," says James from the doorway, cool as ever. Say what you will about him, James has always loved to watch me play with other boys as long as he is able to dictate the terms. It seems as if this time has been no different.

Obeying out of force of habit, we both rise to our feet.

"You filthy, filthy little boys," he snarls, stalking over to us completely naked and partially erect. His green eyes are as focused and intense as the first time I saw him.

"Release them," he instructs, walking around behind us and grabbing our tails, teasing them out with slight plops. He buries his nose in Hasan's ass, inhaling deeply, then repeats the process for me before sniffing our cocks, underarms, and the cum drying on our chests.

"I've missed your scent," he murmurs to me softly, tugging at his hairy cock idly as he paces and inspects.

"I had thought you would return quickly, but you're too strong, too independent. You can survive without me in ways that I can't—or don't want to. I don't want to survive without you."

He places a hand on Hasan's shoulder; Hasan places his own hand atop it and turns to nuzzle him gently.

"I hope you don't mind that I helped arrange for James to be here," Hasan tells me. "I was in your position when I was with James about a year ago and thought I might be able to help. He's an obsessive guy and he can push his little puppies too hard without giving enough back."

"Hey!" retorts James. "I'm still here. I have feelings."

"If you're here to atone," chides Hasan. "This is your chance to atone."

"I don't want him to atone or even apologize," I say clearly. "I don't want anyone to. I don't know if it's right or healthy, but I don't want to have to think about anything. I followed you back to your apartment and stayed with you because it felt good—it made me feel free. I agreed to not fuck anything for three days for you and let you have me tied up because I way enjoying the excitement and the drama of it all."

I turn directly to James and stare him in the face.

"It's not even that I ever wanted to fuck you, like, that's not all that I wanted. I wanted to be able to keep going forward and trying new things, and the more I did that the more you wanted to keep me locked away for yourself."

"I know," he says through gritted teeth. "I was . . . wrong, okay? I got too attached to the idea of you as this innocent little thing that I didn't want that to go away. But that makes it that much worse for me to see you here in this place . . ."

He reaches out and touches my newly-dyed hair.

". . . like this? I mean, is it making you happy?"

"Yes—in that I'm experiencing this life, I'm doing things and actually living. No—in that I'm not able to do that with you."

He hugged me close, sticky cum-chest and all.

"Come back to the Grove," he said softly. "Olivia and Rich moved out. You can have their apartment, come and go as you please. But maybe that will mean I can still see you every day and you can take things at your own pace."

I think about Alex and Vanessa, itching to move out to the country and start a family. I think about the life I was starting to put together at College, my job at the library and senior year coming up. I think about my parents and going home to visit, about wearing underwear and spending quiet afternoons at the pool. What was I willing to miss? What was I willing to let pass by?

"Give me two more weeks," I say. "I need to do a bit of travelling and see some friends. I will move back to the Grove in two weeks."

He kisses my forehead, beaming. When he does, his stiff erection slaps against me and I can't help but chuckle.

"You horny dog," I tease. "Hasan, will you help me make this old pervert jealous?"

"I did promise to bring you pleasure three times tonight," he responds.

I feel the shape of Hasan's jaw and scratch his beard as James loved to scratch mine, kissing him quickly and playfully. The sudden appearance of James and the chance to just shout things into the open and move past all the drama and stress had me feeling giddy and kind of whimsical. Our cocks touch as we kiss, and I wrap my arms around his waist so I can feel his tight round buttocks and sneak a finger around the edge of his hairy ass in a way that makes him shudder in my embrace.

Enjoying the feeling of suddenly being in control after enduring his extended torture, I guide Hasan to his knees and invite James over. James and I stand shoulder-to-shoulder and play at trying to get both of our cocks—his enormous and mine large and growing—into Hasan's mouth at the same time Eventually, Hasan takes us both, one in each hand, and while James and I kiss he starts stroking intently, mixing in quick laps from his warm tongue.

"Please, sir," I ask of James half-mockingly, "May I join your boy on the floor so I can recall the taste of your delicious cock?"

He growls in delight as I slowly kneel, continuing to kiss him on my way down, reacquainting myself with every hair, muscle, and curve of skin. I give Hasan a quick kiss in greeting and we take turns swapping between one focusing on licking his swollen glans while the other sucks his balls—then vice versa.

"Slow down, you hungry little sluts," he barked. "You're going to suck me dry."

Hasan and I exchange a mischievous glance, and we each take James by an arm and lift him up to toss him back on the large metal slab. We make a great show of kissing and caressing each other again for his enjoyment as he sits on the edge of the slab and touches himself, running on hand along his abs while slowly jacking off.

"Are you ready to give me number three?" I whisper to Hasan, who purrs his assent.

I kneel him directly in front of the slab and mount him from behind. James keeps rubbing his abs and pulling slowly at his shaft but dangles his big toe down for Hasan to suckle as I push my way in.

Fuck! I'm not the hardest I've ever been, but I haven't gotten to fuck anyone since Alex the night of on the dinner party when Vanessa plowed me with that strapon. I particularly enjoy the warmth Hasan radiates even in this terribly cold room, and take firm grasp of him as I drive myself in again and again.

My knot expands suddenly, but we're both kind of surprised by it and it quickly recedes.

"Bloody hell, James," gasps Hasan as he spits out his toe and I pull out. "Your new boy has a fucking bowling ball for his knot."

He stands up and turns to face me as James dismounts from the slab.

"Please let me feel that again," Hasan begs as he climbs onto the slab and rolls onto his back, parting his legs for me. "Damn you, let me feel that again."

Obliging, I step forward to re-enter. I pump my hips several times and feel James' hand on my back, steadying me. When the knot expands again and Hasan and I are locked together, James takes Hasan's cock in his hand as he kisses me, breathing words of encouragement.

And then suddenly, James is behind me, lifting me up with his desperate thrusts, forcing me even closer to Hasan and pinning me in space between their bodies. Rough, smooth, warm, cold, old, new collide as James and I share a triumphant howl in our mutual release. My mind goes blank for a full three heartbeats and I reemerge, soaking with sweat and breathing heavily.

When we pull apart, Hasan starts moaning and working toward manually finishing himself, but I stop him.

"Everyone gets a turn," I say meaningfully to James. "If you're serious about being willing to change, you'll fucking do this."

James snarls and sighs, but ultimately sees the look in my eyes and is unable to say no. He kneels and presents himself to Hasan, a completely new position for him and an opportunity that Hasan leaps at. However enticed I was by James's tight, furry flanks, Hasan had to have been eyeing them for far longer. After pressing his face to James's rim and then cautiously inserting a few fingers to test if it was really real, Hasan enters James eagerly as I stand over them and pat James on the head.

"That's a good boy," I say softly. "That's a very good boy."