58. Epilogue

“Eli,” Shepherd called, “Come here. I have something for you.”

I abandoned my place at the kitchen sink and went to the bedroom. After shutting the door behind me, I knelt at his feet.

It’d been two months since Dani and Noah had moved in, bringing a lot of change to our lives and our routines along the way. It disappointed me sometimes that we couldn’t always cuddle on the couch with his cock in my mouth anymore every day, or that I couldn’t kneel everywhere, but the bedroom was always a safe space. We’d made it a rule.

Shepherd slid my fingers through my hair and I leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering half-closed. “You’ve been so amazing, Eli. I’m so incredibly proud to have you as mine.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I know you’re excited about our night at The Playground tonight, but before we go, there was something important I wanted to ask you.”

Shepherd rose and opened the closet. My eyes widened when I saw him bring out a flat black box. He sat down in front of me and carefully slid off the lid before tipping the box so I could see what was inside, even though I already knew.

Nestled inside on a bed of black velvet was a black leather collar with a metal O-ring in the front. It was understated, masculine, and perfect, exactly the sort of collar I would expect Sir to choose for me.

“Elias Baker,” he began. “This collar is a symbol of my commitment to you, of the bond we share. By accepting it, you're giving yourself to me—your trust, your submission, your devotion. And in return, I give you my protection, my guidance, and my unwavering love. This collar represents not only our bond, but my promise to you, to always strive to be worthy of your submission and of your love. Eli, will you accept this collar and all that it represents?”

My chin quivered and my eyes watered. What he’d just said was the equivalent of a marriage proposal, as far as I was concerned. Maybe even more meaningful. I swallowed the emotion making my throat thick. “Yes, Sir,” I said. “It would be my honor to wear your collar.”

He nodded solemnly. “Then let this collar be a tangible reminder of your place at my feet, of the strength you will always find in your submission.”

With careful hands, he wrapped the band of leather around my throat and buckled it snugly. Nothing had ever felt so right on my skin.

I closed my eyes and a single tear tracked down my cheek, but it was a tear of joy. I couldn’t believe I was here, kneeling at the feet of such a man. And inside of him were others I’d come to love as well in their own way. I couldn’t imagine my life without any of them.

I let out a shuddering breath. “Thank you, Sir.”

Shepherd had me rise and led me to the closet. He selected a black mesh crop top and tight leather shorts for me to wear, articles of clothing I never would have dared to put on my body mere months ago, partially because it left the old brand at my hip exposed. But I wasn't that scared, cowering boy anymore, and the old brand was gone now, covered up by a tattoo of a Russian nesting doll.

With Shepherd's guidance, I had blossomed into someone new—someone confident, someone proud of who I was. The feel of the leather against my skin as I slipped on the shorts made me feel powerful and alluring. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and hardly recognized the man staring back at me, all sharp angles and edges, a shining black collar encircling his throat like a work of art.

“Stunning,” Shepherd murmured appreciatively, drinking in the sight of me. “Let's go show you off, shall we?”

We left the apartment and drove across town. It was a Saturday night, which meant the parking lot was full, but Shepherd had a reserved space near the doors.

Inside, I trailed behind Shepherd through the crowd milling about the dimly lit lounge of The Playground. Elegantly clad dominants and submissives alike lounged on the leather couches scattered artfully around the space, sipping their drinks while engaging in hushed conversations.

The air was heavy with the mingled scents of perfume, leather, and an undercurrent of something sharper, more primal. I saw Gavin chatting with Xavier over by the bar, but didn’t wave. I wasn’t supposed to engage people without Shepherd’s permission, a rule I had asked for. It saved me from having to mingle and converse with people if I didn’t feel like and gave him a little more control, grounding me. The Playground, though, now felt like a second home. We went every weekend, and sometimes on weekdays, if there was paperwork that needed to be done. The people in Shepherd’s kink community had become an extended family of sorts, and I was beginning to know all of them by name.

Life came rushing up, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor. With all the rhinestones and glitter adorning her pink corset and boots, she looked like some kind of kinky BDSM fairy.

“Oh! Shepherd!” She waved excitedly before bounding over to us to air-kiss him on both cheeks. “There you are! You look so nice!”

“Life,” Shepherd replied, a rare, genuine smile gracing his angular features. “You're looking positively... vibrant, as usual. Say hello, boy.” He turned to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I flashed Life a smile. “Hello, Mistress.”

Life's eyes sparkled as she turned her megawatt smile on me. “My, doesn’t he look delectable tonight? Is that a new tattoo?”

“Yes, Mistress. I had it done last week.”

“Well, it looks good on you, sweetie. And I heard you were getting ready to graduate from your apprenticeship? Congratulations!”

“Thank you, Mistress.” I pressed my lips together and glanced around, surprised she’d heard so soon. It’d only been decided earlier that day, and Shepherd was the only one who knew outside of Cherry and Ketchup.

But I spotted my answer on the other side of the room. Cherry flashed me a big smile and waved, lowering her feet from Ketchup’s back like he was a footstool. She got up and bounded over, tugging Ketchup along on a leash of his own.

Cherry came to a stop before us, her fiery red curls bouncing. “Hey Eli, looking good! Oh! Hey, you got a collar! How adorable!”

I ducked my head, unused to so much praise and attention. “Thank you, Mistress Cherry.”

Ketchup knelt at Cherry's feet, eyes downcast. His own collar bore a tag that read “Property of Cherry” and had a big metal cherry charm on it.

Life clapped her hands together. “Well, I hate to love you and leave you, but Cherry and I have some... pressing matters to attend to with our little boy toy here.” She winked salaciously. “You two have fun now! Ciao!”

I glanced at Ketchup, trying to read his expression as they led him away. His face was flushed, eyes wide and darting between Cherry and Life. It was hard to tell if the glimmer in his eyes was excitement or fear. Maybe a bit of both. I’d be scared too if Cherry and Life were my mistresses.

Shepherd placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me in the opposite direction. “Come, boy. I have plans for you.”

As we made our way through the throng of bodies, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer variety of people and dynamics on display. Leather-clad masters led their collared submissives on leashes, while elegant dominatrixes in corsets and stilettos circulated with riding crops tucked under their arms. The air crackled with an undercurrent of sexual energy that had my skin buzzing with excitement.

Shepherd led me out of the private lounge and down a hallway. We passed several closed doors, some emitting muffled moans or the sharp crack of a flogger, before Shepherd stopped in front of a blue door at the end of the hall.

He produced a key card from his pocket and swiped it through the lock. The door clicked open and Shepherd pushed it inward, gesturing for me to enter first.

I stepped over the threshold and felt my breath catch in my throat. The room was spacious, with high ceilings and walls painted a deep, calming blue. The lighting was low and warm, emanating from dozens of flameless candles scattered around the room, their flickering lights casting dancing shadows on the walls.

Coils of rope in every color imaginable hung from hooks on the walls, while intricate webs of rope were suspended from the ceiling, creating an almost artistic aerial landscape.

A sturdy metal frame dominated the center of the room, its crossbeams adorned with carabiners and pulleys. Thick padded mats were laid out beneath it, promising a soft landing.

I stepped further into the room, my eyes wide as I took in the array of ropes and rigging equipment. My heart began to race with a mix of excitement and nervousness. I'd never done anything like this before, but the thought of being bound and suspended, completely at Shepherd's mercy, had my cock stiffening in my already too tight shorts.

Shepherd came up behind me, his hands settling on my hips as he pulled me back against his solid chest. “I want you to strip and kneel for me.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.” Shepherd pressed a kiss to the side of my neck just above the collar before stepping around me. He began to methodically remove his suit jacket and roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

I licked my lips at the sight of all that gorgeous dark hair dusting his strong forearms, but when he shot me a look, I hurried to unbutton my shorts. I could feel Shepherd's eyes on me as I pushed down my tight pants and stepped out of them. At his instruction, I’d forgone any sort of underwear, so I was completely naked underneath.

Shepherd's eyes raked over my body, hot and possessive. “Beautiful,” he murmured and lifted a leather riding crop from where it had been stored on two hooks. He pointed to the padding on the floor. “Kneel here.”

I knelt on the thick padding where Shepherd indicated, carefully adjusting my posture the way he’d taught me before. I could feel Shepherd's eyes on me, appraising and intense, as he circled around me. “Very good. You remember your safe words, yes?”

“Yes, sir. It’s Icarus, Sir.”

He dragged the tip of the crop up the center of my chest, applying just enough pressure to dimple my skin. “I want you to be proud of your submission to me, Eli. Never be ashamed of what you are, of what you need.”

The crop continued its journey upward, the supple leather tracing the line of my throat before catching under my chin. He tilted my head back with the crop, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I want you to repeat after me. My submission is a gift.”

“My submission is a gift,” I echoed.

“And my body is a temple to be cherished and worshipped,” he continued. “I trust my Dom to care for me and push me to be my best self.”

I licked my lips and repeated the words, a strange knot of tension loosening in my chest.

Shepherd smiled, a rare, soft expression that made my heart flutter. “Good boy.” He trailed the crop down my cheek in a fleeting caress before stepping back. “I'm going to bind you now. I want you to remain in this position until I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, Sir,” I breathed, already sinking into that floating headspace I loved so much.

Shepherd moved to the wall of ropes, considering them for a moment before selecting several coils of deep burgundy. The rich color stood out against his skin as he wound the rope around his hand, pulling it taut between his fists.

He circled behind me and I had to resist the urge to turn my head to watch him, remembering his command to stay still. Dark and ethereal music began to play from speakers hidden around the room, the song a familiar progressive metal band that I’d often listened to while drawing. The music wrapped around us, drowning out the world outside that room until there was nothing but him, me, and the rope that connected us.

I felt the whisper of rope against my skin a moment before Shepherd began to wind it around my chest in a complex pattern of knots and loops. The rope was soft but strong, hugging my body with a constant, reassuring pressure.

Shepherd's hands were sure and steady as he wove the rope across my skin, each brush of his fingers sending sparks of electricity through my nerves. He worked with the focus and precision of an artist, crafting an intricate tapestry of knots and lines that covered my torso in a diamond pattern that framed my chest and abdomen.

I let myself sink into the gentle, reassuring pressure of the ropes, my mind floating away on the hauntingly beautiful music and the hypnotic pull of the ropes against my body. It was like being caught in a spider's web, but instead of feeling trapped, I felt free and beautiful. Each knot and loop was a physical manifestation of Shepherd's care, his ownership of my body and soul.

As the last notes of the song faded away and another started, Shepherd secured the final knot at the small of my back. “How does that feel? Too tight anywhere?”

I took a shuddering breath, forcing my mind up out of the pleasure haze enough to check in on my own body. “No, Sir. It feels perfect.”

“Good.” Shepherd's hand smoothed down my spine, his touch electric even through the barrier of the ropes.

Shepherd hummed in approval and picked up another length of rope. This one was a deep sapphire blue, the color vibrant against my pale skin. He doubled it over and wrapped it around my bicep. Creating a series of loops, he artfully wove the rope down my arm before pulling my arms behind my back and lacing them in place there. When he’d finished binding my arms behind my back, he went to work on my legs, tying them up at unfamiliar but not uncomfortable angles.

Each pass of the rope was equal parts a caress and a cut, breaking me into smaller and smaller pieces. I sank deeper into my mind, the world narrowing down to the sensation of the rope against my skin and the sure touch of Shepherd's hands.

With each knot and loop, I was unraveling, all the tangled knots of fear and self-doubt loosening in my chest. It was as if Shepherd was weaving a new pattern over my scars and insecurities, transforming them into something beautiful, cherished, worthy of love.

I floated on air, my thoughts dissolving into an abstract watercolor of sensation and emotion. The fibers of the rope were a soft embrace as Shepherd remade me in his image, transformed me from nothing into a priceless work of art. A languid sort of desire simmered under my skin, present but not consuming, warming me from the inside out.

The song changed again, the haunting strains of the vocalist's voice intertwining with strings and piano. It sounded like the soundtrack of a dream, and I let myself drift on the music, my mind detaching further from my body, which now belonged completely to my Dom.

“Look at you,” Shepherd murmured, reverence in his deep voice. “My beautiful boy, so perfectly wrapped up for me.”

“Thank you, sir.” I grinned stupidly, like I was high, except no high I’d ever experienced could match this.

The tip of his crop trailed over the ropes framing my chest, circling my nipples, which pebbled and tightened under the teasing touch. I arched into the sensation, a needy whimper escaping my parted lips.

“I'm going to suspend you now,” he said. “I want you to let go completely, to surrender yourself to the ropes and to me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Shepherd pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before he moved to the rigging frame. He secured carabiners to strategic points in the web of ropes encasing my body, checking each connection with practiced efficiency.

Then, with a final nod of satisfaction, he began to hoist me up. The ropes tightened, taking my weight as my feet left the ground. I gasped at the sensation of being lifted higher and higher until I was flying. It felt like I was feet off the ground, but there were only a few inches between my stomach and the floor. I was only vaguely aware of the position of my limbs because my body didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was the sensation of floating, of being free. Of being held up by the strength Shepherd had woven for me.

I hung suspended in an intricate cradle of ropes, completely at Shepherd's mercy. Shepherd grasped the ropes at my hips and gently turned me in a slow circle, admiring his handiwork from all angles. I revolved lazily in the air, the world reduced to a kaleidoscope blur of crimson ropes and flickering candlelight and Shepherd.

He trailed a hand over the ropes, following the complex pattern over my chest and abdomen, down to where my cock jutted out, hard and leaking. I shivered at his touch, every nerve ending awake and on fire. The barest brush of his fingers against my skin felt electric, magnified tenfold by my position.

Shepherd continued his slow perusal, trailing the tips of his fingers along the ropes framing my thighs, my calves, the arches of my feet. I felt like a prized sculpture, a work of art to be admired, or an icon being worshipped.

With torturous slowness, Shepherd dragged his fingertips down the column of my throat, over the ropes framing my chest, teasing my nipples into stiff peaks before continuing downward. I arched into the touch as much as my bonds allowed, silently begging for more.

Shepherd's hand wrapped around my straining erection and I cried out, the touch almost too much after being kept on edge for so long. He squeezed once, twice, a wicked smile curling on his lips.

I writhed in my bonds, desperate for more of Shepherd's touch. My cock throbbed, hard and aching in his grip. His hand slid up and down my shaft in a loose, teasing stroke that had me panting and straining.

“Please, Sir,” I whimpered, my voice wrecked. “Please...”

“Please what, sweet boy?” Shepherd teased, his thumb swiping over the head of my cock. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need... I need to come. Please let me come, Sir!” The words burst out of me in a desperate rush.

“Soon,” he promised, “but not yet.”

He released my cock, ignoring my whimper of protest, and circled behind me again. I felt the whisper of his clothes against my suspended body, the heat of him searing my skin.

Slick fingers probed at my entrance, circling briefly before pressing inside. I gasped at the sudden intrusion, clenching down reflexively before forcing myself to relax and open to him.

Shepherd's fingers probed deeper. I whimpered and squirmed as much as I could, which wasn’t much.

“You're still so tight,” Shepherd marveled, scissoring his fingers to loosen me further.

I moaned, clenching around his fingers. “Please, Sir... I need your cock. I need you inside me.”

“Patience, boy.” Shepherd crooked his fingers, rubbing mercilessly over just the right spot. Electric pleasure zipped up my spine and gathered in my balls, pulling them up tight.

“Oh god, oh fuck!” I babbled, my hips making abortive little thrusts into the air. The ropes creaked as I strained against them, desperate for more stimulation, while Shepherd's fingers massaged my prostate with ruthless precision.

“Sir, please, I'm going to... I can't...” I gasped out between panting breaths.

“You can and you will,” Shepherd growled, redoubling his efforts. “You don't come until I allow it.”

But it was too much, the relentless pressure on my prostate, the delicious friction of the ropes against my aching cock with every futile thrust of my hips. The spring in my gut wound tighter and tighter until I was sure I’d break.

And then it stopped. Shepherd’s fingers retreated, and I sagged in the ropes, sweating and panting and fighting the urge to sob with both frustration and relief at the same time.

My whole body was trembling, poised right on that knife's edge of pleasure and pain. I felt like one big exposed nerve, raw and vulnerable. The ropes bit into my skin as I hung there, every inch of me aching with the need for release.

But I didn’t beg for more. Shepherd was in complete control here and I trusted him to give me what I needed, when I needed it. He knew best, and I trusted him implicitly.

I heard the rustling of clothing behind me, then felt the blunt, slick head of Shepherd's cock pressing against my hole. I tried to relax, to open myself to him, but I was wound so tight it was almost impossible.

Shepherd gripped my hips, the ropes creaking as he pulled me back onto his thick shaft. I cried out at the burning stretch as he pushed in, my body fighting the intrusion even as I welcomed it.

“That's it, just relax. Let me in, Eli. You're doing so well,” Shepherd crooned, his voice a deep rumble that I felt all the way in my bones.

Inch by excruciating inch, he sank into me until I was fully impaled on his cock, stuffed so full I could barely breathe. He was huge, stretching me wide open, filling me completely.

I whimpered and writhed, the ropes holding me immobile as Shepherd began to move. He set a brutal pace, plunging in and out of my hole with powerful thrusts that made the ropes sing. Each forceful snap of his hips drove his cock deep, striking that spot inside me that made my raw nerves scream with both pain and pleasure.

I was completely at his mercy, suspended and splayed for his pleasure, unable to do anything but take what he gave me. And Shepherd gave with a single-minded intensity that stole my breath and scrambled my thoughts.

Shepherd drove into me with a relentless ferocity, his hips snapping against my suspended body, making the ropes creak and groan. Each powerful thrust speared me open on his thick cock, filling me to the brim. I could do nothing but take it, bound and splayed as I was, a toy for his pleasure. My neglected cock bobbed against the ropes, hard and leaking.

“That's it, take it,” Shepherd growled, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust that punched the air from my lungs. “This is what you're made for, isn't it? To be fucked and used for my pleasure.”

“Yes, Sir,” I gasped out, my voice wrecked. “Use me, please. I'm yours.”

I could only moan brokenly in response as Shepherd redoubled his efforts, fucking into me with an almost feral intensity. The searing pleasure-pain of his thick cock stretching me open, owning me completely, drove coherent thought from my mind. There was only the bite of the ropes into my skin, the relentless piston of his hips, the lewd slap of flesh on flesh echoing in my ears.

I was floating, my mind untethered from my body, which was nothing more than a vessel for sensation, a conduit for Shepherd's desire. Each powerful thrust stoked the fire burning under my skin, winding the coil of tension in my gut tighter and tighter until I was sure I'd shatter into a million pieces.

My cock was leaking steadily now, dribbling onto the ropes and onto the floor. Each brush of the soft fibers against my swollen flesh made me jerk and gasp, sending sparks of electric sensation up my spine to tangle with the growing ache in my balls.

Shepherd's thrusts were growing erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants against the sweat-slicked skin of my neck as he chased his release. The sharp bite of his teeth on my shoulder made me cry out.

“Fuck, Eli,” Shepherd ground out, his voice a deep growl that vibrated through my whole body.

“Please,” I whimpered, too far gone to manage more than that one desperate plea. I needed it, needed to feel Shepherd's release flooding my insides, branding me as his.

Shepherd reached around, wrapping one big hand around my aching shaft. I nearly screamed at the touch, hips bucking wildly into his fist as much as the ropes would allow. He jacked me with short, brutal strokes in time with the relentless piston of his hips.

I was so close, teetering right on the razor's edge. Shepherd's hand was a rough torment, stroking me just this side of too hard.

“Come for me,” Shepherd commanded, his voice rough and deep. “Now, Eli.”

I let out a desperate scream, my throat raw and aching, as I shattered into a billion glittering pieces. My cock jerked and pulsed in Shepherd's grip as I painted the ropes. Each searing pulse felt like it was being ripped out of me, leaving me hollowed out and filled with throbbing, electric ecstasy.

Shepherd groaned, a deep, guttural sound. His hips stuttered, losing their rhythm as he slammed into me one last time and stilled. I felt him swell and pulse inside me, his cock kicking as he filled me with wet heat.

“Fuck!” Shepherd's fingertips dug into my hips until his fingernails drew blood.

I sagged limply in the ropes, completely wrung out and floating. My mind was blissfully blank, thoughts scattered like leaves in a hurricane. There was only sensation—the lingering pulses of pleasure still sparking through my nerves, the sting of the ropes biting into my skin, the throbbing ache in my well-used hole. Shepherd's softening cock was still buried inside me, plugging me up so none of his release could escape.

Shepherd's hands relaxed on my hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the indentations left by his fingers. I let out a contented hum, melting into the touch like an affection-starved cat. The ropes creaked softly as Shepherd held me steady, taking my weight as I swayed unsteadily. My muscles turned to jelly.

“I've got you,” Shepherd murmured. “You were so good for me, Eli. So perfect.”

Slowly, reverently, Shepherd lowered me to the ground and began to unwind the ropes from my limp body. His hands were gentle, carefully freeing me from the intricate web he had woven. As each rope fell away, he soothed the reddened skin beneath with soft kisses and whispered praise.

I could only whimper in response, my mind still floating in subspace, my body utterly wrung out from the intensity of what we had just shared. Shepherd gathered me into his arms, cradling me against his chest as he carried me somewhere else, to a plush sofa in the corner of a dark and quiet room.

He settled us down, arranging my pliant body, so I was draped across his lap, my head pillowed on his shoulder. Strong arms wrapped around me, holding me close as Shepherd nuzzled into my hair.

I drifted in a euphoric haze, my body limp and sated in the safety of Shepherd's arms. The world beyond the two of us fell away, the only thing anchoring me being the steady rise and fall of his chest, the rhythmic thump of his heart beneath my ear. His hands roamed over my skin in soothing strokes, trailing over the marks left by the ropes, the tender flesh of my thoroughly used hole.

Slowly, gently, he coaxed me back to myself, the fog of subspace gradually retreating.

I lifted my head, blearily glancing around the unfamiliar room. I hadn’t even realized we’d moved into another room. “Where are we?”

“A recovery room,” he offered gently.

I blinked slowly, trying to process his words through the lingering fog of euphoria. My throat felt raw, vocal cords shredded from overuse. Every inch of my skin tingled, hypersensitive and marked by the ropes' embrace. And my ass, fuck, it ached in the best possible way.

“Just relax,” he cooed, running his hand through my hair almost like he was petting me. “We can stay here as long as you need.”

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against his chest. My throat was raw and slightly sore. Somehow, I summed that up with a single word. “Thirsty.”

The next thing I knew, Shepherd was pressing a cool bottle of orange juice into my hands that I drank down greedily. I handed the empty bottle back to him and settled in against him once more, eyes sliding closed. “You know,” I said, “I could get used to this.”

He smiled and kissed me. “Please do. We have all the time in the world now, Eli.”

Nestled against him, his heartbeat steady under my ear, the meaning of those words sank in. All the time in the world . It felt like a promise, a grounding certainty I’d never had before. No more running, no more looking over my shoulder—just us, and this calm, shared space we’d created together.

I took a slow breath, savoring the moment, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe any last trace of tension in my body. This wasn’t just the aftermath of a scene. It was something bigger, more lasting, as if each touch, each shared look, had woven us together as surely as the ropes had bound my body.

“I love you, Sir,” I murmured.

Shepherd’s hand traced a slow, reassuring line down my back, settling at the small of it as if to anchor me to him. “I love you too, boy.”

I settled back against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, each steady beat of his heart matching mine. Outside, the world went on, indifferent and relentless. Tomorrow, there would be work to do, places to be, people to save. But here, in this quiet space, time had no hold on us. And as I closed my eyes, feeling his arms wrap tighter around me, I knew that this—all of us, together—was what I’d been searching for all along.

***