Velvet Memories (4 page)

“Masters, you may now choose your partners for this evening,” Sin invited. Rob needed no further invitation. He stood and walked straight to Michael.

Those pale blues eyes looked up at him, full of cool speculation. “Well, isn’t this a surprise?”

Rob shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? Life is full of them.” What a lame-ass line that was. He figured he could be cut some slack though, since he couldn’t have been more shocked than he was at the moment. “Shall we?” He really didn’t want an answer. No, what he wanted was to pin Michael to the wall and re-enact a scene from Brokeback Mountain. He smiled slightly; knowing Michael’s penchant for movies, it probably would have been right up his alley.

“You aren’t going to flake out this time?” The barb shouldn’t have stung, but it did.

“I’ll let that comment slide
—
this time.”
He led Michael to the table farthest away from the group.

The other man reached for the belt on his robe, but Rob stopped him. “Allow me.” He grasped the belt and slowly pulled it free. He watched as the front fell open to reveal tight, tanned skin. His cock filled as he let his gaze travel over every inch of exposed flesh. He groaned inwardly as his eyes halted when they reached the tiny white loincloth covering the other man’s dick.

Michael shrugged, letting the robe drop to the floor. His body was tanned to a pale gold and as smooth as carved marble, a perfect foil for the length of almost black hair falling to his shoulders and into his eyes and the deep rose nipples, which stood at attention, pierced by titanium barbells. Rob wondered how Michael would react if he reached out and tugged one of those piercings. His dick throbbed at the thought.

“How do you want me?” Michael’s matter-of-fact nonchalance was like sandpaper over exposed nerves. Rob didn’t understand his own visceral reaction to Michael’s attitude
—
or maybe he understood all too well
—
and the Dom in him took over.

“On your back, like all good bottoms should be.”

Michael merely raised a brow and crawled onto the table.

Rob’s attention turned to a shorter table which was fully stocked with the various items Master Sin had demonstrated. He picked a fat white pillar candle and lit it. It would take a little while for the wax to pool in the center, but that was okay. He knew how to fill the time. Reaching over he picked up some baby oil and turned back to Michael.

The other man had put his hands behind his head and waited with his eyes closed. Rob took a deep breath, trying to calm the slight panic running through him. He’d hadn’t been this rattled when it came to touching another person since
…
since his encounter with Michael in the weight room, but that had been ten years ago and he was a different man now.

Back then he’d panicked and run like Hell. He wasn’t that kid anymore and he was going to show Michael exactly who was in charge and knock the
whatever
look right off his smug face.

An idea struck, and Rob set the oil down, bending to retrieve the silk sash of Michael’s robe. When he tapped Michael’s wrists, the submissive raised an eyebrow, but obediently lifted up, allowing Rob to wrap the sash around his wrists several times, binding them together before directing Michael to return them to behind his head.

Rob gave a little smile of satisfaction. Michael spread out like a feast had featured in so many of his secret fantasies. The reality was fucking amazing. He grabbed the oil and tipped the bottle to drizzle a thin line down the middle of Michael’s chest, stopping where the loincloth started. Placing his hands on the smooth expanse of the submissive’s torso he smoothed the oil in slow circular motions, letting his thumbs trail across the other man’s nipples to test their sensitivity and smiling again as he felt Michael try to suppress a shiver. His fingers dug lightly into Michael’s pecs, running down to his waist and back up again.

Michael’s body tensed slightly, but his eyes remained closed, his face calm. Picking up the bottle once more, Rob poured a slow stream of oil on the top of Michael’s thighs. Using his palms, he worked the silky liquid up and under the loincloth. The pad of his thumb scraped against the soft skin of the sub’s balls. This time Michael jumped and his eyes popped open. The loincloth moved as Michael’s cock began to swell. Rob fought off the urge to touch it and instead slid his hands back down as slowly as he’d begun.

He was determined to have Michael moaning his name by the time the scene was finished. God knew
he
was ready to cream his pants at any second.

Setting the oil down, Rob picked up the candle, swirling the melted wax around the top. He held it several inches above his wrist and let a few drops fall. The wax was hot but not blistering, and cooled within seconds.

Turning back, he held it over the base of Michael’s throat. Raising it several inches he tipped it and dribbled the wax in a straight line down to his belly button. Michael squirmed, a tiny movement, but it was not the response Rob was looking for. Rob examined the cooling wax, shuddering when he realized the plain white candle wax looked like a streak of cum on Michael’s golden abdomen.

Michael’s squirming had stopped as quickly as it had started and he lay once again still and serene. It grated on Rob’s nerves, the way Michael seemed to have shut him out. It could be any Dom working him; Michael would be affected no more or less. Determined to get his submissive’s attention, Rob turned back to the table that held his practice instruments.

In addition to the pillar candle, there were several votives, some plain white, some richly colored. There was also a silver and black crock-pot set up almost like a double boiler and half-filled with melted wax. Next to the crock-pot lay a selection of implements: a shallow ladle, several paintbrushes of varying thicknesses and textures, something that looked like an old-fashioned honey-dipper. Finally, an ice bucket containing ice and a small pot of aloe-vera gel completed the assortment.

Remembering Master Sin’s directive that in wax play it was important to build the sensations, Rob lifted the softest and thickest of the paintbrushes and dipped it into the pot of melted wax. It dripped in thick strands from the bristles when he lifted it, and he smiled in satisfaction.

Moving quickly so the wax didn’t have time to begin to set, Rob brushed the wax along the path from Michael’s navel to the base of his cock, creating a feathery pattern on either side of the line he’d already dribbled there. Michael sighed, and some of the tension Rob hadn’t even realized gripped the submissive eased from his body.

Rob continued his artwork, painting swirls and loops along Michael’s ribcage, watching the slender body relax more and more into the table. There was a deep satisfaction in that, in knowing it was his touch giving his submissive ease. Giving
Michael
ease. After his less-than-enthusiastic greeting, Rob had wondered if Michael would really be able to submit to him. He still did wonder. The other man might deny it, but Rob knew there had to be a lot of anger there, a lot of resentment, and while he didn’t like to admit it, the resentment was deserved.

Michael sighed again, and Rob pulled his mind back to the present and to the mouthwatering picture before him. Dipping the brush again, he painted thick circles around first one nipple, then the other. Michael’s breath caught a little, his chest rising sharply, but his eyes stayed closed, and he gave no other reaction.

It was time to up the stakes, Rob decided. Turning again to the table, he traded the paintbrush for the honey-dipper. Gathering a generous amount of wax on the ball, he turned and flicked the molten liquid over Michael’s pecs.

Michael gasped and tensed, his eyelids going tight for a moment. Rob did it again, this time aiming for the sensitive skin along the submissive’s sides, then the curve of his ribcage, then the tender hollow of his hips. There was no pattern to his spattering. Michael had no way to prepare himself, and it was clearly, finally, getting to him. He shifted on the table, graceful movements that tried to predict where and when the next volley of hot wax would land.

That was better, but Rob still wanted more.

Returning to the pillar candle he’d started with, he looked with satisfaction at the deep pool of wax collected around the wick. He’d wanted Michael to open his eyes, to acknowledge who it was giving him pain and pleasure, but his ego hadn’t allowed him to command it. He wanted Michael to do it on his own. Now he was glad for Michael’s closed eyes. It gave him the element of surprise.

Candle in one hand, he reached into the ice bucket and plucked out a cube with the other. He poured a drop over one nipple and this time he was rewarded as a hiss escaped the other man. The hiss turned into a sharp cry and Michael’s eyes flew open as Rob quickly ran the ice cube over the hot wax, chilling it to hardness, and leaving drops of cold water beading on Michael’s areola. He imagined the sensation of the wax heating and the ice chilling the barbell was pretty damned intense. The submissive’s eyes locked on the candle, and Rob smiled as he repeated the action to the other nipple and got another hiss, and another strangled cry.

Fuck, the man was gorgeous. Blue eyes wide and practically glowing, full lips damp and parted, chest heaving and erection tenting the white cotton loincloth, Michael was a feast laid out before him, and Rob was starving. And, Rob noted with more than a little satisfaction, the submissive was anything but indifferent now.

Picking up the ladle, Rob filled it with wax and drizzled a thin, zig-zagging line over Michael’s tight abs. At the same time he trailed the fingers of his other hand slowly up Michael’s inner thigh. He knew the contrast of the hot wax and the relative coolness of his touch would drive the man wild, and he was right. With each drop of wax and each stroke of a finger, the other man’s cock rose higher and harder under the scant material hiding it.

Master Sin had given them all permission to take the submissives as far as Master and slave were comfortable with, and Rob wanted to see Michael writhing on the table. He hooked two fingers into the bottom of the loincloth and with the other hand moved a line of wax up Michael’s left thigh, raising the interfering piece of clothing as he continued. There were no safe words, because this wasn’t really a proper scene. Just the understanding that at any minute Michael could tell him to stop, could end the experiment with a word. The other man never stopped him from going further, though, and before long the cloth was raised high on Michael’s hips.

Michael’s cock was fully engorged, long and thick and fucking edible. A bead of pre-cum trembled at the tip, and Rob’s mouth watered with the sudden need to taste it. His own cock was throbbing in time with the submissive’s breaths, and he thought if he merely watched Michael much longer he’d explode.

He wanted to suck Michael down and make him writhe. He wanted to climb over him, to recreate their frantic dry hump on the weight bench all those years ago, but take it further. He wanted to mount the fucking table and shove his dick into Michael’s generous mouth, to feel the other man’s tongue glide along his hard flesh while he owned the man.

How the fuck had this little experiment been turned around on him? Rob didn’t know, but he did know playtime was over. Never mind it was a workshop and not a scene. Never mind this was about practicing technique, and not stripping his submissive bare. Now it was time to break the maddening reserve Michael had wrapped around himself. Now it was time for Michael to truly submit.

Chapter Three

It took every ounce of willpower Michael possessed not to beg Rob to take him. From the moment those dark green eyes had caught his he’d known he was fucked. Trying to play it off was not going to work for long and that scared the shit out of him.

Sure, what had happened between them was a long time ago, but it had left a small hole in his heart. Adolescence was such a vulnerable time in any kid’s life, but when the kid was gay it was even worse. In his mind he’d known back then, as he did now, that he was out of his depth with Rob. Their tryst had been nothing more than a tiny flash compared to the rest of their lives, but Michael wasn’t a fool and he recognized that this man could do some serious damage to his heart if he allowed it. Even letting him know how his very touch made him crazy could be disastrous.

“Put your hands over your head.” Michael turned his head at Rob’s demand. He was a well-trained submissive and didn’t think twice. He removed his hands from behind his head and stretched them to the top of the table.

Rob unwound the purple sash and dropped it to the floor. Then he took one of the Velcro cuffs attached to the table and locked one of his hands down. After trailing a finger down the inside of Michael’s arm and dragging a shiver from him, Rob repeated the action on his other wrist. Then Rob did something utterly unexpected, and completely devastating. Moving with slow purpose, the Dom moved each of Michael’s legs, spreading them wide until they dangled over the sides of the table.

Michael’s dick hardened even more with being restrained. He loved feeling helpless, loved the anticipation of what was to come. Even more, he was totally getting off on the fact Rob had almost perfectly recreated his position on the weight bench. Added to that the look of focused determination on Rob’s face, which Michael recognized as the look of a Dom with an agenda, and Michael shuddered uncontrollably. Rob was on a mission to prove he could bend Michael to his will, and Michael was afraid the man was already more than halfway there.