By the time keys rattled in the front door, Stefan felt like he’d run a marathon.
His skin was gleaming with sweat. His d**k was swollen and nearly purple with torment. His wrists were chafed and burned from twisting them in the wire until the skin was scored clean away.
But he kept his head down. Shaking. Shivering. Wanting.
Daz and Yannis spoke in low tones, the double bass never once pausing in its torture. Then fingers lifted Stefan’s chin, and his master’s cool blue gaze was staring down at him.
“Yannis says you’ve earned a reward.”
Stefan licked his lips. A thumb rubbed across them and wiped the moisture away.
“Have you?”
“Only—only if you agree with him, Sir.”
“He says you asked to pleasure him.”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
“Are you allowed to pleasure Yannis?”
“If you say I can.”
“Di
