Safeword Page 2

  “Steady.” Crow wrapped his palm around one of Carter’s arms. “I think we’d better establish a few rules before you land on your ass trying to avoid me.”

  Carter’s breath hitched. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Crow tossed the cage on the nightstand. “I don’t want your apology. I want your safeword.”

  Surprised, Carter blinked back at him. Safeword? Seriously? He knew better than to fall for that trick. Having a safeword as a sub and expecting a Dom to heed it when you used it was the stuff of romance novels. He’d learned pretty quickly by his master’s hand that subs took what their Doms gave them and liked it. Or else. He was too experienced now and too clever to fall for that ruse.

  He fluttered his lashes coquettishly and gave Crow a shy smile. “I don’t need a safeword, sir. I’m yours to command and will gladly take whatever you give me.”

  Chapter Two

  For a brief moment, Damien’s agile brain froze up, unable to process the boy’s statement. The one-day crash course he’d been given in the world of BDSM had stressed the need for a sub to have a safeword. He hadn’t been told what to do if the sub declined to use one.

  One thing he did know, however, was how to read another person’s face. Fear showed through clearly in the boy’s eyes and his pulse beat a rapid tattoo at the base of his throat. The kid was close to being terrified of him and what he might do. Not that such a reaction came as a surprise. He’d spent years cultivating the scary persona that was Damien Crow.

  He also knew Winters, that sadistic, traitorous fucker, was watching them. He’d spotted both hidden cameras immediately upon entering the room. The guy wanted dinner and a show out of Damien and had offered the kid up on a platter as so much meat to play with. Damien had no choice but to go along. If he didn’t, the weekend wouldn’t end with Winters showing him his newly acquired cache of weapons. No proof, no takedown of one of the most successful arms dealers the world had ever seen. So Damien had come prepared to play at being this kid’s Dom. That didn’t mean he couldn’t do it his way. Let Winters make of it what he would, but Damien had no intention of proceeding without a safeword.

  He shook his head. “Wrong answer, baby.”

  Damien forced the endearment out of his mouth. Of all the things he’d done in his many years working deep undercover for his government, he’d never had to fuck another man, if Carter could even be thought of as such. Sure, he was twenty-one—Damien knew all about the guy’s life before and since he’d met Winters. He still looked like a kid, though, and was too pretty by half, even with the makeup washed away. But Damien couldn’t pretend that the sub was a girl, not with that dick hanging between his legs.

  “I don’t play without a safeword,” he continued. “Call it my personal quirk.” He smiled down at the boy, knowing that regardless of his sincerity, he never managed to make that expression look anything other than menacing.

  Carter’s throat bobbled on a hard swallow. “I’ll be a good boy for you, sir, I promise.”

  Christ, what was Damien supposed to do with that non sequitur? Winters had obviously done a number on the kid, keeping him secluded on the island and probably torturing him into submission. Well, if all went as planned, Carter would be free of the situation within the next forty-eight hours. In the meantime, Damien had to get the show on the road.

  “Okay, here’s the deal. Yellow means slow down. Red means stop. Easy.” He leaned a little more into the boy’s space and peered into his lovely green eyes with flecks of gold around the iris. Shit, yeah, best to find as many not-a-dick things about the sub that he found attractive or he’d never be able to perform. He gave a stern look and was gratified when Carter dropped his gaze.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Damien pulled back. “Good.”

  He turned to his bag of toys, a mixture of novice level and advanced. He decided to keep this first night simple. He’d brought nipple clamps, but given the boy’s piercings, he decided to go with lead weights instead. He pulled them out, turned and held them up.

  “Come here, boy.” Playing a Dom came naturally to Damien. Being in control was his thing, one of his core attributes. Causing pain didn’t bother him, either, although doing it to turn himself on was new. He could do it, though—he had to. The mission demanded it, and he always did the job that needed to be done.

  Carter came to him without hesitation, his gaze still fixed on the ground. He stuttered out a sigh, barely more than a few puffs of breath, when Damien hung a weight off the gold hoop running through one of Carter’s nipples, then the other. The bit of heaviness pulled the hoops down and by extension the already hard nubs. The boy’s body shuddered once.

  “Nice,” Damien said because he figured he needed to say something and because the shiny silver of the weights in conjunction with the gold hoops did sparkle like pretty jewelry.

  He reached up and carded his hand through the boy’s thick brown mop of hair, making it look like a gesture of affection. In reality, he checked to see if the boy had become sweaty already, a sign that he might be on overload. His BDSM tutor had taught him stuff like that, thinking Damien’s play would be consensual. That wasn’t the case, of course. Even if Damien hadn’t seen the file about how Winters pimped the kid out to various and vicious business associates, he couldn’t miss the way the boy flinched at sudden movements. Even now, as still as he was, his eyelashes had fluttered in a telling way. Damien wanted to reassure him yet knew that was impossible. Damien Crow was a mean motherfucker and that was what Winters expected to see.

  He dropped his hand. “Kneel on the edge of the bed, legs spread, face down and ass up.”

  Once again, Carter complied with alacrity, presenting a pretty picture of submission. The tails of the corset drew Damien’s attention to the cleft of the boy’s ass. He took a moment to gaze at the crisscross of silk ribbon going up the creamy, pale back. That had surprised him. He’d barely even heard of this kind of piercing and had never seen it before. It was fetchingly beautiful in a horror movie kind of way. He couldn’t resist running his fingers down the rings on one side. Carter’s back rippled with the touch and he moaned a little. Damien stilled his hand. Even light tugging must hurt, but did the boy like that? He was a sub, after all. He’d met Winters in a BDSM club, not been snatched off the street.

  Damien pulled gently on the knot, watched all the rings stretch the holes of flesh they ran through. Another moan, deeper this time, came from where the boy’s face pressed into the bedding. His body shuddered again, too. With his palms flat against the bed by either side of his head, he curled his fingers into the fabric. Damien let go, not sure if he’d done harm or good, but figuring it was enough to titillate Winters and that’s all that mattered. He turned back to his bag, pointedly ignoring how his cock had started to swell within its confines. Sure, he had to get it up as part of the performance, but what did it mean that causing the boy a bit of pain had jump-started what he’d assumed would be a difficult effort?

  He picked up a wooden paddle because it was the simplest thing he’d learned how to use. Not much to fuck up, just point and smack. If he got lucky, one night of play would titillate Winters enough to strike the deal the next day. Yeah, right, like any op had ever gone that easily.

  Positioning himself to one side of the kneeling boy, he stroked the polished flat surface of the paddle across the exquisitely small, taut ass. He had to admit that if he were into guys, this would be the perfect type for him. He snorted internally. Of course a straight man would be attracted to a diminutive, pretty boy. Still, it helped that he could feel some attraction. His cock twitched and started to rise. This all might be a hell of a lot easier than he’d anticipated.

  “You’ll count the strokes, boy. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” He still gripped the bedding with those slender fingers. The kid was gearing up to withstand what was coming. That didn’t seem like the sort of thing a sub would do. He was supposed to look forward to the pain. Maybe three years with Winters had killed
the pleasure, or mostly had.

  Regardless, he couldn’t allow himself to feel sorry for the kid. They both had a job to do. He raised the paddle and brought it down on the meatiest part of one cheek. The smack sounded loud in the big, plush room. Carter’s body jerked forward. Those fingers clutched at the covers.

  “One, sir!” The kid’s voice was surprisingly clear and strong.

  Damien brought the paddle down again on the same place.

  “Two, sir!” This time there was a bit of a quiver.

  The pale flesh where the paddle had struck had pinked up to a faint blush. On the third stroke, it turned a darker hue, then darker still by the fourth. By the fifth stroke, the ass cheek was bright red and Carter’s voice had become strained. When Damien brought the paddle down once more in the exact same spot, the boy cried out.

  “Yellow!”

  Damien switched the paddle over to his other hand and placed his free palm against the red flesh. The sub’s ass was so small, Damien’s hand covered the whole of the cheek. He could feel the heat radiating off the skin.

  “Easy, boy. This isn’t so bad, not much worse than a sunburn.” He kept his voice low and easy and waited a few seconds, listening to the boy’s breathing slow down. “Okay, boy?”

  “Yes, sir.” The reply was barely above a whisper yet sounded strong and sure enough.

  “Is that a green light or are we still on yellow?”

  The boy arched his back before settling back down. The weights must have tugged at his nipples with the abrupt movement and maybe that was the point. The kid must still like pain. “Green, sir.”

  Damien switched to the other cheek to begin again, still delivering sound smacks with the paddle. He couldn’t afford to be too cherry about his play, not with Winters watching. He made Carter count out the blows again, but this time he reached the sixth one without the boy saying either version of his safeword. A bit confused and emboldened, he kept up the beating, alternating now between cheeks and mixing up his whacks. He did three quick blows then a delayed one, then changed it up again. With no ability to anticipate what was coming when, the boy lost the ability to count them out and soon had no breath to speak anyway. The sub panted and strained and writhed in a futile effort to avoid the worst of it, yet never said yellow or red. And, most tellingly, his dick had risen and his balls had pulled up tight against his body.

  The kid definitely liked being beaten. Well, no big surprise there. It was in the nature of certain subs, after all. Damien couldn’t profess to understand liking pain. Then again, he didn’t need to get it, he just had to play along. It was late, however, and he figured he’d put on enough of a show for the night. Time to move on to the finale. He tossed the paddle into the bag then yanked off his boxer briefs. His dick hadn’t gotten very hard, although it wasn’t exactly sleeping, either. It was a bit confused by the activity, but he knew a sure-fire way to get his little head into the game.

  He tugged on the silk knot at the base of the boy’s spine. “Up you go, boy. I have a job for you.”

  Carter straightened slowly and looked over his shoulder. His eyes were glazed over and the cheeks on his face were almost as red as the ones on his ass. He dipped his lashes as he stared down at Damien’s cock, then widened his eyes.

  Damien cupped his balls and cock with one hand. “Yeah, it’s a big boy. I’m betting you can handle it just fine, though, huh, boy?”

  The sub let out a shuddering breath. “Yes, sir.” He opened his mouth wide, making his tongue visible.

  Oh, fuck, the kid had a piercing there too. That bit of knowledge made Damien’s dick wake up even more. For the first time that night, Damien was actually looking forward to playing the Dom.

  “Lie on your back, head hanging over the edge.” His voice had gone gruffer than usual. With heavy-lidded eyes, he watched the boy comply.

  The boy couldn’t hold back the hiss when his ass met the bed, but his cock remained hard. It bobbed over his sleek, supine stomach, and the tip shone from a bit of pre-cum. His weighted nipples were rock hard while being pulled in opposite directions. Yeah, the kid was turned on, and that made it all the sweeter when Damien stepped up to feed his rod past those widely stretched lips. With the sub’s head dangling backwards, his throat opened right up. The metal piercing the boy’s tongue slid deliciously over Damien’s dick as he buried it balls deep.

  “Oh, fuck, yeah,” he murmured.

  Being so tall meant he had to bend his knees a little to fill Carter’s throat. He savored the sensation of wet warmth massaging his cock to full hardness. It was only when he saw the boy twitching and clawing at the bedding that he pulled back to let him take a breath. Damien gave it two seconds before diving down once more. The piercing scraped all along the length, making Damien jerk.

  “That’s it, boy. Work my dick with your tongue.” Christ, he’d never experienced the like before, silky tongue mixed with rigid metal. It jacked his pleasure up so much, he went from idling to full speed after only a couple of thrusts.

  Damien braced one arm against the bed to give himself leverage and set up a fast pace of fucking the sub’s face. Mindful of the boy’s need to breathe and determined to get the most stimulation he could out of the piercing, he pulled almost all the way out before sending the shaft all the way down again. The kid kept up with him, his tongue never flagging, barely a hint of gagging, and sucking Damien’s rod like a straw filled with a thick milkshake.

  “Fuck!” He came in a rush that caught him by surprise. He slammed his other hand down on the bed when his knees buckled from the force of his climax.

  With his balls pressed into Carter’s nose, he filled the boy with cum. His eyes shut of their own volition. He wanted a moment when he didn’t have to stay alert all the time and could just feel for a change. His body heaved over the boy, who sputtered and slurped Damien’s gift. It wasn’t until slender fingers groped Damien’s hands and dug nails into his skin that Damien came back to himself enough to pull up.

  He stood on surprisingly shaky legs and slid his softening dick past wet, puffy lips. As soon as he did, the boy took in big gulps of air. The kid’s dick still pointed right at Damien, hard and needy as ever. Damien wanted to ignore it, knew he could do so with impunity. Guilt, a relatively rare feeling, gnawed at him. The sub deserved a reward, and Damien figured he probably didn’t get many with a selfish, sadistic prick like Winters.

  “On your knees, boy.” He was winded, another rarity for him.

  Rolling over, Carter scrambled to his knees by the side of the bed. He licked his lips and snuck a peek at Damien. Poor kid was looking for a sign that he’d done well. Damien ran the fingers of one hand through that thick, wavy mop of hair, messier now than when the night had started.

  “You pleased me, boy, so I’m going to give you a treat.”

  Those swollen lips curved up in a smile. “Thank you, sir.”

  Now came the hard part. Damien had never touched anyone’s cock other than his own. He could just order the boy to jerk himself off, but that didn’t seem like enough. Besides, he reasoned, Winters would enjoy seeing Damien do it. He made himself grab hold of the shaft bobbing in front of him with a quick, sure move. The flesh jumped in his grip. It wasn’t really much different from his own. Smaller, of course, and more slender. Just as hot, though, and desperate for relief. He slid his palm up, keeping a tight grip. His fingers easily encircled the entire width. On the upstroke, he slid his thumbnail through the slit because he liked that himself. The boy’s stuttering sigh encouraged him to do it again.

  Soon, it didn’t matter that he was jerking another man off for the first time. He found a rhythm and brought the boy off in less than a minute. When the sub’s head hung back with his eyes closed, and his fingers curled into fists, Damien knew he was on the edge. To tip him over, Damien went with his gut and tugged on one of the weights still dangling from a nipple.

  With a cry, the boy came, ropey cum shooting out of his cock. It splattered his stomach and coated Damie
n’s fingers. He could feel it pulsing up to spurt over and over. It was as if the boy hadn’t come in ages. When the last bit pumped past the tip, the boy slumped forward. Damien caught him with his free hand and pushed him back to sit on his heels. The smooth chest heaved with a few more deep breaths before he calmed.

  “Open your eyes, boy.”

  Those thick, long lashes fluttered open and Carter peered back at him with sleepy eyes.

  Damien held his cum-soaked hand to the boy’s lips. “Lick it up.”

  Flashing Damien a coy smile, the boy did as he was told.

  Chapter Three

  Carter lay nestled against a block of concrete that was impressively hard yet delightfully warm. A steel cable encircled his shoulder, strong enough to snap his neck but holding him with a light touch that comforted more than frightened. He should have been terrified to be trapped with a man whose vicious reputation impressed even Carter’s master. He wasn’t. It might be naïve of him, but the man had given such wonderful gifts, he couldn’t work up a fear or loathing of him.

  The safeword hadn’t been a trap the way it had on other occasions with other men, including his master. Crow had meant it when he’d insisted on Carter having one. The man had actually stopped the beating when Carter had recklessly used it just to see if it would work. He hadn’t needed it, not really. Six strokes of a paddle hardly registered as painful anymore, and he’d gone on to take a whole lot more once Crow had demonstrated he would listen to Carter. It had been a perverse test, one that Carter had known risked real punishment. Still, it had worked and that was a minor miracle to him.

  The second gift had been the orgasm, something Carter had been denied for months. Why a man like Crow would even care about a sub’s pleasure was beyond him. In giving it to Carter, though, the man had earned gratitude and a desire to please him more. Allowing him to sleep on the bed, not the floor, and by his side, not curled at the foot of the bed, had been the icing on what was normally a really crappy cake. Although the forceful orgasm had put Carter to sleep pretty quickly, he’d awoken with a start after a few hours. Dawn had not yet crept over the horizon, and he tried to stay still so as not to wake Crow. He tried not to worry, either, about how his master would punish him when the weekend was over. He knew the man had been watching the whole scene and would hate that Carter had been given both of the gifts.