Kept - Chapter 4

Beer in one hand. Phone in the other. He mooches lazily in his leather chair. Stretched out in his tracksuit. Grinning occasionally, he scrolls, taps, grimaces.

Strung up before him. On Display.

Steel butt plug up me, roped and stretched to ceiling, me on tip toes. Made the cuffs tight, chafing under the ball sack. Pushing the ball sack out. Presenting the ball sack to him. Just above his feet, his trainers. Time to time he glances above his phone. His eyes. With that look. Sharp and tense and focused.

From time to time thrust of his leg comes, short and sharp, kicking my balls. But don't make a sound. Just take a deep breath. Because he's made it clear. Not to make a sound. Not to disturb him.

Scrolls and taps on his phone. Every so often, hear the familiar sound from the hookup app. The local lads he was messaging. Figure what's coming. Takes the phone and holds it out so camera can see me. He taps, pic from that side and then moves his arm and tap, pic from the other side. Another. Snap. Again. Snap. Another. Sending pics of me to fellas in the area. Can figure what's coming. He's showing them me. His cunt. Naked head to toe, strained on tip of toes, cuffs pushing ball sack out. Gagged and trussed up to ceiling. Steel butt plug looped to hook in ceiling.

The afternoon wears on.

He gets another beer, comes back to his place, goes on tapping and scrolling. Don't think he's having much luck. Like the phone's annoying him. Not getting what he wants. The interest he wants. The meet that he wants. Look at his hand around the phone. His knuckles getting whiter. He's gripping it. It's frustration. Hear him say, under his breath, "for fuck's sake." Goes on like that. Gets another beer. The kicks to my balls coming faster, stronger now. He's getting pissed off. Trying to get a fella to come over and do the thing he wants to do, "fucking hell", he says, and drops, or is it throws, the phone to the floor. Then stands upright full before me.

He's seething. Eyes me. Holds it. Darts out of the room. Rummaging now in the bedroom, his bedroom. He's come back. He's got belt in his hand. Binds it in half. Holds it in his fist. Other hand grabs my collar. Whacks me with belt. Three fast sharp whacks. And pause. His breath's heavy. Another two whacks. Stings. Can't help but pull away.

"Doh do that. Show me."

Push, open, present my arse towards him. Then follows cutting whack of the belt. Then steady pause. And then one more whack of the belt.

He pushes me away. Hand off the collar. Drops the belt. Goes and gets another beer. Comes back. Broods in his chair. He's left the phone on the floor.

Almost evening now. Dusk light coming down the hall into the room. His eyelids become heavy, his head droops.

He's snoozing.

All there is for me to do is to remain trussed up for him, stark bollock dangling above his now lazing feet, cuffed hands, arse red and sore, from the whacks from his belt, balls tender and throbbing. From the thrusts from his feet, from his trainers, feet twitching as he snoozes, tip of trainers nudging my ballsack. At any moment, should he feel like it. Nudge. Tap. Sharp kick to my balls. But he's snoozing now. He's snoring now.

Phone makes sound from hookup app. He stirs. Bleary eyed. Feels around on the floor for his phone. Grabs it, reads it. Hear the app messages pinging back and forth. He gets up, turns the light on in the room. Goes back to his leather chair. Now he's focused, sharp on the phone. Snaps quick pics, moving around the hanging torso, different angles.

Now he leans back in the chair and then app pinging again and I watch him read the message and a big grin comes across his face, "that's what I'm talking about." There's a few more messages. Now he's up on his toes. He's got a bounce in his step. Drops phone in the chair.

Hear him in the bathroom. He's having a quick wash. Not so long after that, hear him greet someone at the door. There's some low chat. Then they're both in the room. Him and this other stocky chap. Gym bag over his shoulder. His sweats on. Probably come from gym. He's his type. Know that cos he looks like me, a bit. But younger. Fitter.

"Go on, have a closer look."

Chap comes in the room proper now. Surveys the scene.

"This cunt's learning a lesson."

From behind the chap, he comes in fast with his fist, punches my balls. Then turns sharp. Says to the other, "get your kit off" and the lad responds naturally. Gets his gym gear off. And while he's doing that, I'm aware the pulley behind me, the rope behind me is being unspooled.

Then I feel his hand on my collar. Pushes me down so that I'm kneeling. Readjusts the rope so that the steel butt plug tugs tight again. Sets it like that so that a few minutes later, when he gets the lad sucking his cock, it's right in my face. His groin, his pubes, his cock. The lad's mouth around his cock, his head going back and forth. It's all right in my face. Am breathing on it. Can smell it. All of it.

He reaches for a condom.

"All right, lad, turn around on your knees."

The lad, on all fours, presents his arse to him, nudges my nose with his arse as he does that. Can smell it. As he puts the condom on and enters him. Fucks him right in front of my face. He's going long, savoring it. Don't avert my gaze. That's all there is. His cock in a lad's arse. He's fucking the lad's arse. It's all there is.

Then feel him pinch my ear, hold my ear between his forefinger and thumb. Pulls me up by my ear. Am up off my knees, have bent over, my ear pulled up towards his mouth, cowering under him. He leans into my ear and he whispers.

"It's you I want here. You gotta stop here. You gotta be here. This thing we do, you cor go away. If you ay gonna be here, if you doh want to be here, then you can fuck off. If you ain't thankful to be here, then you can fuck off. If you want to stop here, you've got to stop here and be here. Proper. If you want to stop here, you've got to fucking want it. You've got to fucking show me or I will put you out."

With that, he pushes me back down to the floor on my knees, still pinching my ear. Am back at his groin, and his cock in the lad's arse, and he's thrusting.

And he cums.

There's not a lot of words between him and the lad now. The lad has a quick wash in the bathroom. He throws the gym gear at the lad, lad gets into it and puts his bag on his shoulder and leaves.

He's back in the room now. He's still naked and he's still got the condom on. Comes around my back, unhooks the butt plug. Takes the cuffs off. Removes gag from my mouth. Am still there though, kneeling. Splayed before him. He moves in, holds my head with his hand gently. His condom cock, fresh from fucking that lad, is at my nose. He opens my mouth with his thumb. The condom cock in my mouth, and I suck it clean. Surface of the condom, fresh from the lad's arse.

Moves my forehead back, now licking up and down the condom on his cock. Removes the condom. Spills its contents out into my mouth. Pushes it through with his finger. And me licking his cum off the used condom. Then lick and clean the head of his cock until satisfied he slides away, goes to the kitchen, puts the condom in the bin. Hear him do that. Comes back with another beer. Falls back into his leather chair. Takes a sip. And then a longer sip.

Hear him sigh, a deep sigh. He's at peace now. Something's come back into balance. And that puts me at rest too. Something's shifted. The weight needs to move for us. He says, "Come here."

Start on my knees and come forward towards him. When close enough, he reaches around the back of my neck and stops me there. Moves my head so that it rests down on his now flaccid cock and balls, warm and sweet after fucking the lad. It's like a pillow. My resting place. My nostrils in the nook of his balls and cock and pubes and all the smells of fucking the lad. And my whole body relaxes and deepens.

It's over. The storm. The torrent. His anger. Flew out the room. He fucked that lad. He told me what's what.

After a while hear him snoring.

Rest.