Paid to Take Control Read online

  A second line to his left foot had Birch up on the toes of his right and pirouetting lazily in space. Painter noticed that the boy’s cock got steadily more engorged the more rope Tay wrapped him in.

  Tay repeatedly checked the tension and placement of knots, letting one rope take the strain to allow him to move another to where he wanted it, adjusting Birch’s position until the boy floated just how he wanted him. Painter shadowed Tay, taking in the specifics but also the energy, the give and take, between Dom and Sub.

  Eventually, Birch was fully suspended, his body an elegant curve rotating in the air.

  Tay set the boy twirling gently on his ropes with a light push and beckoned Painter over, “Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Tay said quietly in Painter’s ear.

  Painter had to agree. Birch’s solid musculature was highlighted by his bindings, the breadth of his shoulders, and the narrowness of his waist shown off by the chest harness and attention was directed towards his groin by the way the ankle rope and thigh line caused his legs to spread and flex.

  The boy’s cock, plump and pretty, was fully erect, it lay against his stomach and his round, tight balls were vulnerable and exposed by the suspension position.

  Painter swallowed, he could see Brio like this. He could have Brio like this if he wanted.

  Would Brio be quiet and submissive within the hold of the rope, or would he be challenging and fearless?

  He imagined Brio’s rich mop of hair instead of Birch’s close crop and how he would grab hold of it and move him within the air, holding his head at just the right angle so he could fuck his hard cock into his wise-ass mouth.

  “Painter, you with me,” Tay’s voice was insistent in his ear.

  “Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Painter dragged his attention back to his instructor.

  Tay’s huge hand was on his arm, “It’s okay, I get it, it’s distracting as all hell, but you have to keep focus.

  “I’m going to edge him now and I want you right beside me.”

  Together Tay and Painter moved towards the suspended sub, Tay laying a hand on his flank and turning him towards them, “Hey, baby boy,” he crooned, “Feel good?”

  “Mmmm,” Birch’s head hung back and he struggled to open his eyes, smiling sweetly at Tay, “Yeah, Tay, feels awesome,”

  “You look beautiful, Birch,” Painter added, stepping in so Birch knew he was there, “Just gorgeous,”

  “Wanna fuck me?” Birch’s eyes were dark, his lips red with his arousal.

  “Not today, sweetheart,” Painter said

  “This is just for you today,” Tay added and bent down to press a kiss to the sub’s forehead, “This is just to make you feel extra nice because you’ve been so good,”

  “Thank you,” Birch’s voice was slurred and his arched lazily in his bonds, twirling slowly.

  Tay, moved away to get lube before positioning himself between Birch’s thighs, he bent and blew gently on the boy’s balls before taking hold of his cock with a lube slick hand and started to slowly pump his erection.

  Birch moaned soft and low and his head fell back again.

  Tay teased Birch gently, praising him and slowly bringing him closer and closer to orgasm. It wasn’t an intense session where Birch would have been brought to the peak and then denied again and again. Instead, Tay worked Birch through a slow, incessant rise, a gradual climbing of peaks until Birch was held right on the edge, slowly gasping.

  Tay motioned for Painter to go to Birch’s head and he went. He cupped his hands around Birch’s smooth skull and lifted the boy’s head, “You ready to come Birch?” he asked, he glanced at Tay who was nodding his approval, “You want Tay to make you come now,”

  “Oh yes please,” Birch’s voice was a breathy whisper,

  “Okay Birch, you can come when you like sweetheart,”

  Painter glanced down Birch’s body to see Tay’s hand speeding up. When he turned back to Birch the boy locked eyes with him, Painter could feel the tension in the boy’s neck, the urgent vibration in his body. Birch held his breath, his body bowed, and with a soft cry, he came.

  “Good boy,” Painter praised him and stroked his face, wishing it was Brio he held here.

  As Tay had said Birch was a resilient little sub, once lowered and out of the ropes he bounced back quickly, needing only minimal aftercare. Painter took care of the ropes whilst Birch, back in his sweats, snuggled with Tay on the recovery mat and cheerfully gobbled down squares of chocolate.

  Eventually, Tay got up and stretched, “You did well, kiddo,” he said to Birch, “You were really good,”

  “I’m always good,” Birch grinned cheekily as he picked up his bag and headed out of the training room.

  Tay shook his head and turned to Painter, “How was that for you?” he asked.

  “It was good, I found it useful, and Birch was really good,”

  “Yeah, as he says, he’s always good,” Tay looked at Painter calculatingly, “It’s a shame really,” he added, “I’d like him to be naughtier, then I could hurt him more,”

  Painter said nothing, just stared evenly at Tay until the man quirked a smile and turned away, obviously having seen all he needed.

  Painter spent the remainder of the day thinking about Tay’s comment. It resonated with him. He has felt it in himself more and more lately, that desire to hurt, to inflict pain.

  At night, in his dreams, he fucks Brio and when he reaches around to cup him whilst buried to the root in his ass and finds Brio’s cock is soft, small, and vulnerable, Painter is pleased, so pleased with him when this happens.

  He hated that dream.

  Chapter Five

  Brio and the need for knots

  “I went for lunch with Richard today,” Brio said, “Honestly if he got any more serious FEMA would be camped around him waiting for the emergency to be declared,”

  “Leave him alone,” said Painter, “He is the most normal person I’ve met in the last six weeks” he paused and a blush stained his cheeks, “Apart from the first ten minutes after I met him, those weren’t normal at all,”

  Brio giggled, “I heard,”

  “So much for confidentiality at Delphic, the sub support system has been gossiping again,”

  Brio nibbled at the sandwiches he had made for Painter and himself. He had spent an hour constructing them because the day, even with a lunch date with Richard, had been vile.

  Thinking of Richard reminded him that Ash’s husband had been very straight with his opinions on Painter. Brio hadn’t wanted Richard’s opinions; his contract with Painter was so tenuous that he hadn’t dared push on anything despite the need that was growing in him.

  “How was he anyway?” Painter asked,

  “Opinionated,”

  “I hear friends can be like that,” Painter said mildly,

  “I told him to fuck off,”

  “That must have upset him,” Painter gave Brio a disapproving look,

  “Hard to tell with Richard,” Brio nibbled more of his sandwich and fidgeted in his seat, “Some people have resting bitch face, Richard has a resting professor of theology listening to a student deliver a paper on the religious symbolism in medieval literature that he bought off a Philippino guy on Fiverr, face.”

  Painter’s brow wrinkled as he parsed his way through the sentence, “Unless Ash is in the room,” he said,

  “Yes,” said Brio, “Unless Ash in the room and then it’s like someone mainlined him full of smiles, it’s ridiculous,”

  “That’s love for you,”

  “Boy, you’re being Mr. Cognizant, tonight,”

  “I have no idea what that means,” Painter said placidly, “But I do know you are cranky, bad day?”

  Brio took a mouthful of his sandwich and chewed it slowly, it was like trying to chew through a pillow. “Yes,” he said moodily, “Long day, bad day, nothing worked, hypotheses died, my lab tech smelled of Lebanese food, Ash is away, Richard wanted to talk about feelings, general shit day,”

  Painter continu
ed to chew slowly and watched Brio across the island unit they were eating at. His expression gave nothing away but he never took his eyes off Brio.

  “Do you think submissives are weak?” Brio asked,

  “No! Brio, no, fuck, I’ve seen in training just how tough they are,” Painter said, he paused briefly then added with a sheepish smile, “And I’ve seen you in the gym, you didn’t look weak to me, you looked hot and fit and fast.”

  “Are you flirting with me, Painter?” Brio asked giving him his best shit-eating grin.

  “Do I need to?” Painter replied equably,

  Brio stood up from his seat and rounded the island towards Painter, “Not really,” he said with a shrug, “I am notoriously easy,”

  Painter carried on eating his sandwich, licking mayonnaise off his fingers in a way that drove Brio mad. Brio leaned casually against the island close to Painter, “Seriously,” he said, “If I asked you to tie me down, would that make me weak?”

  Painter leveled a serious gaze at Brio, his eyes were denim blue in the evening light, “No,” he said thickly.

  “If I asked you to distract me for a while, so I didn’t have to think. Would that make me weak?”

  “No. Brio-”

  Brio interrupted him. He kept his voice low, smoky and seductive when he spoke, “If I were to invite you to scene with me tonight, Painter, what would you think?”

  Painter licked his lower lip.

  Brio could feel the energy between them ramping up, “If I invited you to scene with me, and you rendered me helpless,” Brio’s voice was almost a croon, “How would that feel to you, Painter?”

  “Good,” Painter breathed.

  “And how much do you think I’d like it?” Brio edged into Painter’s space, desperate to touch, his voice purring.

  “I think you’d like it very much,” Painter placed his sandwich back on the plate and rotated on the stool, his hands settled carefully on Brio’s hips, the thumbs pressed lightly on his hip bones, “I think I could make it good for you,” His voice was suggestive.

  “Would it feel good for you too, Painter?”

  “What are you-” Painter’s look was questioning, “Yes, it would make me feel good,”

  “Why would it make you feel good?” Brio stroked a finger along Painter’s lower lip, “You can be honest with me, it’s part of the deal,”

  Painter’s expression was wary, “You know the answer to that is complicated, Brio.” His thumbs continued to press on Brio’s hips, “And it can change from day to day but right now, making you feel good would make me feel good because you relaxed and content would make me feel the same way.”

  “So if I asked for it, if we both got something out of it, would it wrong?”

  “Of course not. Not at all. Brio.”

  “Then why do you resist it? Why do you choose to not give me what makes me feel right?” Brio let the sadness and rejection seep into his tone.

  There had been nothing sexual yet between him and Painter, just the daily maintenance spankings, and a growing sexual tension that was now so thick and syrupy you could dish it up with a spoon. Brio wanted more, needed more, but he walked a tightrope of his creation – he could only ask for what Painter would give willingly.

  Painter might be a Venditor but Brio was self-aware enough to know that if he pushed Painter to do something sexual that he wasn’t ready for the fallout would be dire, for both of them.

  Painter’s head was tilted to one side and he was appraising Brio carefully. Brio could see the rapid beating of the pulse in his throat but the hands on his hips didn’t tighten, just rested casually and the thumbs stroked soothingly. Brio felt naked under Painter’s gaze.

  “I would like to scene with you tonight, Brio,” Painter’s voice was deeper than usual, his phrasing was formal, “I would like to restrain you tonight, I would like to tie you. Do you want that?”

  “Yes,” Brio breathed and his heart rate picked up, “I want that,”

  “Go to the playroom, get undressed, stand in the center of the room, arms behind your back and your feet shoulder-width apart,” Painter’s voice was like Kahlua over ice-cream, rich and dark, a good way to melt vanilla, “Will you do that for me?”

  “Yes,”

  Painter quirked an eyebrow at Brio,

  “Yes, Sir,” he said hurriedly.

  “Go, I’ll be there in five minutes,”

  Brio went.

  ◆◆◆

  Painter didn’t need to know that Brio had never played in this room before. When he stood naked in the center, under the soft glow of the track lighting, it was for the very first time.

  The playroom suite had been installed when Brio bought the house but he has never played there. The only room he went into regularly was the Little Room and then only when he had to when things all got too much.

  He had designed this suite, he had put all his desires and his kinks and his hopes for a future that had never happened into it, but until this evening it had stood idle.

  He took a deep breath. He hoped the room worked. He wanted it to work, not just for him, for Painter too.

  When Painter entered the room Brio maintained his position, his eyes downcast, his posture straight but relaxed.

  Painter walked over and circled him, Brio could see his bare feet and the bottom of his jeans brushed the padded flooring. Painter had nice feet, he thought, he noticed that the nails were trimmed and the skin was soft, and he had none of those horrible long hairs some people have on their toes. It made him realize that Painter tried, Painter groomed himself, he made an effort for his Emptores, even though he was the confessed laziest Venditor at Delphic. Brio thought that was probably untrue.

  “Thank you, Brio,” Painter’s voice was soft, “That position is perfect, you did well,”

  Brio smiled at the floor, a gentle heat building inside his chest.

  “I’m going to tie you tonight Brio, it will mean I am touching you, is that okay?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Brio breathed,

  “I think you will look lovely in a design I have planned,” Painter had obviously acquainted himself with the room because he went unerringly to the rope locker.

  “You can look up, Brio,” he said when he returned, “I want you to see what I am doing but I would prefer if you didn’t speak unless it is important or you need to safeword,”

  Brio lifted his head, Painter was bare-chested, wearing only his low slung jeans. His chest was well defined without being bulky, his nipples dark tight nubs on his hairless chest, and only a thin dark line of hair leading down from the deep pit of his navel to the waistband of his jeans.

  He had two coils of rope over his shoulder and was running long lengths of gold ribbon through his fingers, all liquid and mesmerizing where the light caught them.

  “They gave me these in class,” Painter said, “So I could start my design without drowning in rope, I found I liked it,” his voice was almost shy when he added, “I brought it here because I thought it would suit you, I want to see you in ribbon and rope,” He bit his lip as if holding more revelations in and Brio stayed silent, just watched the gleaming lengths of gold run through Painter’s fingers.

  “What’s your safeword, Brio?” Painter asked,

  “Cabbage, Sir,”

  Painter smiled, “I’m never going to get used to that,” he said with a wry shake of his head and stepped forward.

  Painter ran his hands all over Brio’s naked body as if to familiarise himself with all the new flesh on display. His warm fingers trailed down Brio’s arms and across his belly and swept down the back of his thighs. The ribbons in his hands slipped over Brio’s skin in a way that made him start to chub up, his cock swelling with interest against his thigh.

  Painter took the lengths of ribbon and wrapped them around Brio’s muscles and tied them in neat bows. The loops curled around the bulge of his biceps, the swell of his calves and thighs, and the long tails of the ribbons swayed in the drift of air from the ceiling fan and t
ickled his skin.

  Painter circled him like a predator, his steps light on the padded floor, his hands sure when they touched him.

  The whole time Painter kept up a steady murmur of instruction and statement, detailing – almost to himself – what he was doing to Brio's body and what would happen next. He stroked the different muscle groups as he went.

  It sent Brio to a nice, floaty place so that he was calm and breathing deeply when Painter switched to the ropes. Painter started his tie just below Brio's pectoral muscles. The tails crossed over his spine before they ran up and over his shoulders. Brio could see Painter had sunk into his work, the way he moved, slow and methodical but with increasing confidence in himself, played into Brio's desire to be owned.

  It was beautiful to watch, the way his Dom was a natural at the process, becoming consumed by it as he built a neat pattern around Brio's chest and shoulders. The harness was snug, thick and sturdy between his shoulder blades. His arms are free and he still had nearly his full range of movement, but the way Painter looked at him when he was done put any sort of logistical thought out of Brio's mind.

  “Last bit,” Painter breathed out heavily and went down on his knees before Brio.

  Painter passed the rope around Brio’s waist before drawing it up between his legs. The double length of the rope split and ran up either side of his penis and scrotum, applying delightful squeezing pressure to the whole area.

  Brio sighed with delight as he felt Painter’s hands on his genitals, warm and sure, the new rope calluses dragging on his delicate skin.

  His eyes were heavy-lidded as he looked down and watched Painter build an intricate ladder of flat knots from the root of his penis to his waist. It looked amazing, his cock framed like a work of art and it made him look huge and beautifully presented.

  “That’s so awesome,” Painter said admiringly and ran a light finger down the topside of Brio’s erect cock and up the ladder of ropes.

  Brio breathed through his arousal, sinking deeper into it.