8

-NORTH-

"IT'S TIMEfor your reward."

Mal stands in his doorway, leaning one solid shoulder against the frame. His body is loose, hips jutted to one side. I bubble with anticipation on his front mat, breathing heavily from speeding over here, my bike thrown on the ground behind me with one wheel still spinning. I have no idea what he has in store for me, and I can't fucking wait to find out.

He steps back and lets me in, and I jump after him. But he doesn't let me any further. He cages me against the door with his arms and uses me to push it closed. His smell envelops me; clean, some cologne, and that dark Malcolm-ness that makes my mind lose track of what's going on. I take a deep lungful of it. I worked hard for this, and I'm going to enjoy every single second of it. Especially if this is the last time.

He's not much taller than me, but enough for me to have to look up at his face this close. He expression is somewhere between cold contempt at my neediness, and pure animal hunger, and it shoots straight to my cock.

"Get on your knees," he says, his voice low, commanding. A shiver runs through me as I lower myself obediently, bringing my face level with his crotch, where I get a front row seat for the bulge he's sporting there. My mouth waters for a taste, but I keep my hands and my mouth to myself, waiting for his next instruction.

See, I'm good, I say with my eyes. See how good I am?

The corner of his mouth quirks for a second before he straightens it again. But I saw it. He likes it. And that's just as arousing as his cock inches from my lips. He leans over and picks something from the table beside the door. A loop of leather. His long fingers loosen the shiny golden buckle, and my chest tightens as I realize it's a collar. He's going to collar me and shit, I'd be rock hard right now if I wasn't wearing this cage. My balls already ache from my straining cock.

He fastens it around my neck, the stiff leather snug against my skin. I swallow and feel the way my throat moves against it. God damn, it feels so kinky, so dirty, so amazingly, deliciously wrong.

He clips a golden chain to a ring set in the collar and steps back, giving it a tug toward the hallway entrance.

"Come."

I start to climb to my feet. He grips my jaw with his fingers, digging in hard.

"I didn't say you could get up. Crawl," he growls, and my dick twitches and aches against the metal bars of the cage.

Keeping my eyes on his face, I get back down on my knees, and he tugs the leash again. Face red hot, I crawl behind him like a dog as he leads down the hallway.

He takes me into a back room that I haven't seen before. It's dark, and I have to blink my eyes until I can see again. All the surfaces are a rich dark color, it's warm, almost cozy, with a wide, low couch on one side, a table, and a sort of padded area on the wall. It doesn't look like any kind of room I've ever been in before. Blame my slow brain on the insane level of arousal raging through me right now, because it's only when I notice metal rings set into the wall and ceiling that things start to click into place.

Wait . . . is this . . . a sex dungeon?

Although it's less like a dungeon and more like a den. His sex den then? Malcolm has a sex den? The thought really shouldn't surprise me as much as it does.

My eyes snap to Malcolm in front of me, my heart beating like crazy. He's watching me, waiting for my reaction, and whatever he sees in my face, he likes it. His eyes narrow. He leads me further in and stops by the table. Down here on my knees all I can see is the underside of it.

"You've been so good, I thought I'd let you see the tools I'm going to use on you before I start." He gives the leash a tug. "Stand."

On the table, laid out like a kinky buffet, is a selection of toys that make a shiver shoot up my spine; a bright red ball gag, a set of small shiny metal clamps tethered by a thin chain, a black ridged dildo, rope, and a metal bar with leather cuffs attached to each end. I swallow and my dick presses against its cage.

He lets me get a good look at the items that he's going to use on me, watching me closely, drinking in my reaction, before he tugs me down.

"That's enough. On your knees." He takes a seat, and I get down, taking my place between his legs. His muscular thighs cage me as he strokes across my hair and down the side of my face, along my jaw.

"You've been a good boy, Nolan." He tilts his head. "Do you want your reward?"

"Yes. Please," I say, breathy with arousal.

"It's going to hurt," he says, rubbing his thumb over my lips. "Do you understand?"

"Y-yes." My breath shudders as I part my lips, allowing him access.

"What do you do if you want to stop?" He takes his fingers out, allowing me to answer.

"I say the safeword."

"Which is?"

I don't want to say it, but he's asked me a direct question. I have to remind myself that it's just a gut reaction. He's not going to stop now. "Baseball."

He nods, then slips his fingers back into my mouth, and the tightness in my chest eases. He pushes in further until they brush against the back of my mouth and my throat constricts automatically, and hmms to himself.

"Let's get started." He leads me to the wall and unclips the lead. "Up. Put your hands out in front of you."

I follow his instructions.

He takes the rope from the table and ties my hands together, looping the rope around my wrists, binding them firmly together. After checking if it's too tight, he loops a rope through a metal ring in the wall above my head, makes a pulley, and attaches it to the bound wrists. Then he pulls. My arms rise above my head until they're stretched out. This is already way kinkier than anything I've ever done before, my heart is already tripping over itself.

"Snap your fingers," he says, and I blink at him, confused. He raises an eyebrow and I remind myself—do as Mal says, no questions. I snap them, making a loud click. He nods.

"That's your new safe signal when you have a gag in." My already light head spins at the thought of being gagged. Fuck. New kink unlocked. "Snap, and we stop immediately. Understand?"

I nod. I wouldn't have even considered that. Good thing one of us knows what he's doing.

The gag drags on the table as he picks it up and my hairs stand on end. I've never worn one before, but apparently I want to.

"You can never shut the fuck up when I work on you, and I don't want to punish you today, because you did so well. So, I'm going to shut you up myself." He raises the gag. "Open your mouth."

He puts the ball gag into my mouth and fastens the leather straps around the back of my head. My tongue runs across the smooth surface of the ball that stretches my mouth wide, holding my jaw open. I draw wavering air through my nose and pin pricks of sweat prickle across my skin. Oh fuck. Why do I like this so much?

"That's better."

He strips me, slowly. He pulls my shirt up and hooks it over my head, so it's bunched around my shoulders, exposing the stretch of my chest and torso. Then he pops open the fly of my pants and slides them down my thighs. Being slowly exposed while I'm tied up like this is doing things to me; I'm so aroused I feel high. The cock cage is tucked inside the fabric of my underwear. He traces the line of it with his finger and I twitch.

My pants drop to pool around my ankles and then he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my boxers and eases them down a fraction at a time. It's torturously slow, and I can tell he's enjoying teasing me. My waistband gets to the top of the cage, so low on my hips that my pubic hair moves with his breath, and he lingers there for a second before removing his fingers. I let out a noise that he ignores. Bastard. He goes down to my feet, pulls off my shoes and socks one at a time, and tugs my pants all the way off.

I'm on the cusp of nakedness, dangling by a thread. He steps back and takes me in, his eyes cool and disinterested. I know it's an act, I can see the bulge in his pants that betrays his interest, but it makes me feel so powerless and vulnerable, like a specimen about to be taken apart. A plaything of no consequence to be used and discarded as he pleases. It makes me ache deep inside with humiliated arousal.

With a sudden jerk he pulls my boxers all the way down, and I'm fully naked, stretched out on the wall. I shudder. He returns to the table and picks up the small clamps held together by a chain. Where the fuck are they supposed to go?

He licks his finger and rubs it over my nipples, massaging until the soft buds harden. Oh, that's where they go. The rubbing feels good, but do I like nipple play? I guess I'm about to find out. He closes the clamp around my nipples, and I whimper as the sensation shoots straight to my dick. Ok, yes, I do like nipple play. He tugs on the chain once, increasing the sensation and my hips roll in response. Shit, how am I into so many things I never knew about?

Mal flips me around so that I'm pressed against the wall and leans his full weight against my back. The course material of his pants rubs against my skin, and he squeezes both my ass cheeks hard. I yelp. Then he slaps them with the flat of his palm, so hard the sting makes my back arch, pushing against him as I groan at the sweet pain. I've never enjoyed pain this much before Mal started to do it. He does it again and again, until my skin is prickly and hot all over, my eyes water and my dick aches. Goddamn his hands feel so good on me.

A click. The ooze of lube. My body reacts to the sound, stomach fluttering. It means something's going inside me. A moment later he dips his slick fingers between my cheeks and trails down my crack until he finds what he's looking for and swirls lube around my asshole. The thrill of arousal shoots through me, tightening my muscles. I try to relax as his finger presses against my hole. But as they slip slowly inside with no friction, dragging against the rim of muscle, it sends a tingling jolt through me that feels so good I can't stop myself from clenching around it.

"Hungry boy," he growls into my ear. "You've been waiting for this, haven't you? Fantasizing about me fucking you while your dick tries to get hard. You want it so bad."

Does he want me to reply? To agree? Because I will, it's true. Leaning against me harder, pinning me in place, he plunges his finger into the knuckle without pausing, and my breath catches. He swirls it around, exploring my depths, and I can't stop my hips from moving with him. Another finger joins the first and I feel the first ache of stretch. I wriggle as the fingers pump into me, scissoring and stretching me open, and noises erupt from my throat, moans that can't be mistaken for anything other than needy appreciation.

Fingers tangle into my hair and pull hard, pain shooting through my scalp. At the same time, he buries his fingers deep inside me, pried as wide as they can go, stretching me further. I screw my eyes shut and give a muffled cry of pain and pleasure as my hips make a single aborted thrust.

"Want to stop?" he mutters into my ear.

I shake my head as much as I can and grunt in a way that I hope sounds like "fuck no." It must work, because he keeps the grip on my hair, twisting it between his fingers, keeping the pressure on my neck as he pulls it back, and eases his fingers back into a pumping rhythm. I melt. It feels so good being trapped in place like this, as he moves me and uses me as he wants. He's completely in control, I can't even get hard without his permission. And fucking hell that turns me on even more.

A third finger slips in, and I groan again. At the same time his other hand leaves my hair, snakes around my body, and finds the chain attached to my nipples. He tugs. The clamps pinch and pull, and I writhe.

Then the fingers leave my hole, and I'm suddenly empty. I make a pathetic noise of disappointment. A part of me is embarrassed, but a much bigger part is needy and disappointed and desperate for more. I twist around.

He has his back to me at the table, but his body is blocking whatever he's picking up. Then he turns around with the long black ridged dildo in his hand. My stomach drops. It's huge; long and smooth, with knotty lumps along the shaft, starting small and tapering to a much wider base with a suction cup. His eyes meet mine for a moment, drinking in my expression.

As he walks back over to me with slow deliberate steps, he runs lube along its full length until it's black ridges glisten. He turns me around and my pulse thrums as he positions the dildo between my ass and the wall, setting the wide suction base in place, and lines the tip up between my cheeks. I let out a stifled noise as he pushes the end of the dildo into my asshole, and holds me there, with just the very tip, cold and slick, pressed inside me as I clench around it. He lets go and strokes the lines of my cock cage, teasing me with fleeting contact.

"Push back, take it into your hole and open yourself up for me. I want to watch you squirm and sweat while you impale yourself."

I grunt, bite down on the gag, and do what he says. I push back, and the slick dildo wedges into my ass.

"That's right," he says.

I reach the first ridge and twitch as my asshole stretches. Then my hole closes around it and my body slumps.

"Don't stop. I want it all the way in. I want you nice and open for me when I decide to fuck you."

He takes a seat on the wide couch on the other side of the room, and makes himself comfortable as he watches me, enjoying my torment. My legs tremble as I push back, and the shaft of the dildo enters inch by inch, stretching me wider and wider, filling me up more and more. With each ridge my body jerks and pleasure pulses in my core. With my head lowered in effort, I huff a breath through my nose. I feel like I'm doing a strenuous workout. Sweat trickles between my shoulder blades. Between my legs, my cock aches, livid in its cage, while I slowly, agonizingly fuck myself onto the dildo for his entertainment. Jesus Christ. This is filthy and degrading, and just too fucking hot. Is it possible to come in a cock cage? Because I think I might.

I look up through my damp hair. He's watching me with a ravenous look on his face, like he wants to completely devour me. Take me apart. His hands grip the couch cushion, like he's having to use a great effort to stay seated. Like he wants to run over here and tear me apart. I want it too.

By the time I'm most of the way impaled on the dildo, I'm panting and whimpering. It's so big I don't think I can take any more inside. He either senses my struggle or gets bored watching, pushes up off the couch, comes over and inspects my ass, just like he did with my page summaries when I was studying. I guess this is the same kind of thing, he's just making me work in a different way.

"Good boy," he says. "It's almost all the way in."

I flush at his praise.

He reaches behind me and detaches the dildo from the wall, then releases my bound hands from the ring. It's all I can do not to collapse on the spot. Pulling the rope, he leads me to the table, and I move stiffly with him, the dildo moving and shifting inside me with each step, nudging against my inner walls.

He folds me over the table, bent with my ass in the air, and I'm surprised to find it's slightly padded. A goddamn sex table.

The nipple clamps twist and rub against the surface as the rope is retied above me, stretching my arms and torso across the table.

He pulls my legs wide apart. Leather wraps around one ankle, tight enough to dig in but not quite enough to hurt, and then the other. I shift my feet, but I can't move them any closer together because of the metal bar between them. My legs are now spread wide, so that I'm even more exposed than before, held in place and unable to move, with my asshole on display.

A generous amount of lube trickles down my ass crack. The dildo shifts as he takes hold of the base and eases it out of my asshole, one tremulous ridge at a time. Each one drags against my rim and makes me catch my breath and my knees shake.

It's nearly all the way out when he stops, twists it slightly, and then shoves it back in again. My asshole pops around each ridge. I gasp, and he fucks it in and out of my hole, going deeper each time.

"Ugh!" I writhe and twitch, clenching around it automatically to try to slow its invasion, but it slides in and out smoothly, slick with the lube.

"You take it so well, Nolan," he says. It's stupid how good the praise makes me feel. I press my burning cheek against the cool padded tabletop.

"Do you like this, North? Do you like when I tie you down and fuck you with my toy?"

I clench my teeth. I can't speak with the gag in my mouth. He holds all the power. And I hold none. It makes my head spin and my cock twitch.

"Yes," I try to say, but it comes out as a wordless grunt, so I just nod feebly.

"You fucking love it, don't you. Filthy slut."

He pumps the dildo, hard and fast, and I squirm and flex my hips, more sweat running down my back. Suddenly, with a twist, it hits against my prostate and my whole body arches against the table as stars spark across my vision and I give a strangled groan.

"You hide it so well from everyone else. Your friends, the guys on the team. But you can't hide it from me. I can see how much you need to be dominated. I own you, and I can do whatever I want with you, and you'll love every fucking second of it because you're my cum whore. Isn't that right?"

God, the words are falling out of him now like he can't control them. I nod again, eyes clenched shut.

He keeps the angle, hitting my sweet spot over and over until it's almost too much. I moan and grunt through the gag obscenely, almost glad that it stops the words spilling from my mouth. Because who knows what I'd be saying right now. I sure as fuck don't.

Finally, after one last thrust that has my shoulders hitching, he pulls it all the way out, leaving me empty and aching. I sag against the table and draw a shaky breath in through my nose. Fuck, that was too much, and not enough, and I want more. I need to come.

He pulls my cheeks apart, exposing my stretched and sensitive hole to the air. I know what I must look like; legs spread wide, my asshole pink and loose, slick and shiny with lube. More lube trails down my open crack and over my asshole, making it flutter against the cold fluid.

"You look so good like this, Nolan." He runs his fingers over my hole, circling the twitching rim of sensitive muscle that screams out for more. "Just perfect."

As if to make his point, he presses two fingers into my hole and they slide in easily. He twists and bends them just right, they stroke up against my prostate, and I spasm. I jerk again when his other hand reaches around and fingers the cage trapping my dick, and gives it one lazy stroke, fingers brushing between the bars, and then tugs at my swollen balls.

I groan; I'm already so close to climax, even with it on, I can feel the need coiling and twisting in my belly. I need to come with every fiber of my being. I need to get hard. The sound of a zip catches my attention. I can't see what he's doing, but if that's what I think it is—

The blunt head of his cock nudges against my twitching hole as he lines himself up. He's going to fuck me now. The thought makes me giddy. He pushes, and after a moment of pressure against my asshole, he slips the head of his dick inside. In one slow pump, he pushes all the way in until he's buried to the hilt. My body bucks under him as he fills me entirely, stretching me wide around him as I writhe, tugging against the ropes tying my hands over my head. He's huge. The dildo stretched me out, but somehow, he's still bigger.

He holds still there, letting me catch my breath.

"Snap if it's too much," he reminds me.

No fucking way. But I nod to show I understand.

One arm snakes around to tease at my dick and sack, while the other winds around the nipple clamp chain, and tugs. Keeping the pressure on, he eases back until just the head of his cock is pressed up against the inside of my rim.

His breath brushes the back of my ear. "You did so well with the dildo, now I want you to do the same for me. Show me how much you want my cock," he says. "Move."

Trembling, I push back, angling my hips so that I take him in as much as I can. But with my arms tied over me I can't move much. I attempt to slide up and down on his dick, managing only an inch. It's not enough, though, and I clench, trying to draw him in further as my need cries out for more. I whine and grunt through the gag. Please.

"Is that not enough cock for you? You want more?"

I nod.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

I nod. I want him to fuck me so bad. I want him to fuck me so hard and fast I can't breathe.

He tugs the nipple clamps again, sending a searing jolt of electricity through my core.

"Good boy."

With that, he rams his cock in, deep and hard. I shout. He pounds into me relentlessly, each snap of his hips driving me higher and higher.

He touches my cock, and the slight brush makes me cry behind the gag. Precum leaks from the tip. I'm so close to coming, but I can't, and I think I'm going to lose my mind. His fingers rub on my tip through the bars, smearing the fluid around.

It's too much, my hips buck frantically, out of my control. I'm on the edge and tipping over.

"You'd better not come in your cage."

I whimper. I need him to take it off, I need to come. Like right now.

My whole body jerks and writhes, fighting the oncoming orgasm, as he pounds into me hard. The pressure building at the base of my cock grows, and I can't take it much longer.

Suddenly my cock is free. He must have somehow unlocked it without me noticing, which wouldn't be that hard with the state I'm in. My eyes roll back in my head, mouth hanging slack. The next moment his hips stutter, cock spasming inside me, and heat fills me with his release as he climaxes with a groan.

Muffled by the gag, I cry out, my body goes rigid, and I come. As my orgasm smashes through me, my vision whitens, and waves of pleasure shake my body as I fall apart, hips thrusting with each roll. He keeps fucking in, hitting my sweet spot again and again as I spasm, wringing more out of me with each thrust. My eyes water. My breath hitches. The earth shakes.

Finally, it all stills, and for a blissful moment, all that matters is the connection between his body and mine. Everything else falls away, meaningless in the euphoria.

He flops down on top of me, dead weight crushing me against the table, with his cock still buried deep inside as sweat sticks our skin together.

"Good boy," he pants into my back.

I close my eyes and let the afterglow bathe me. It feels like we stay like that for ages, but it's probably just seconds, blissed out of our minds. His weight pins me, and I don't want him to get up.

Then he shifts, and I feel his lips drag across the skin at the back of my neck as he moves away.

Mal loosens the gag, eases it out of my mouth, and I stretch my jaw and lick my swollen lips. I feel limp all over, like I've just run a marathon. He releases me in silence, his movements firm, practiced, efficient, but not ungentle. I'm in a haze as he rubs lotion onto the places where the cuffs and clamps bit into my skin, smoothing it across the red indentations. It tingles. I watch him as he does it, and he stares steadfastly at what he's doing, not meeting my gaze.

Does this mean anything, or is this just his part of the deal? I shouldn't hope for more from him, but I can't help it. I want him to care for me in a way he doesn't care for anyone else. It's stupid but I want him to like me in a romantic way, too.

"Why can't I stay away from you?" I say. I'm so blissed out right now I feel drunk, and my words slur.

He pauses, looking up at me with heavy eyes. His hair and clothes are ruffled, the messiest I've ever seen him, with dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and I'm proud that it's because of me and no one else. He thinks for a moment, then speaks in a low voice.

"Because everyone loves you. You throw a ball and everyone claps and cheers. You smile, and they swoon. Everyone is in love with you." His mouth widens slightly into something that could be a smile but isn't. "Except me. And you can't stand it, but at the same time, deep down, you crave it. No one else can give you what I can."

He goes back to rubbing my flesh in firm circles and I stare at his lowered face, kinda freaked out, because I think it might be true. I want to win his affection because he won't give it to me like everyone else does. That's why he has so much power over me. I shift on the table. That's a peek into my subconscious that I didn't need.

When my skin is smooth and slick with the lotion, he stops and hands me a robe.

"Put this on."

It's soft and warm and when I wrap it around myself, suddenly I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

"Is this the part when you kick me out?" I ask, only half joking.

He gives me a long look and brushes the hair off his face. "You can stay if you want. I have spare rooms."

A spare room sounds better than the cold night, but not as good as his room. But it's progress. It'll do for now. I try to suppress my grin.

"Sure."

The spare room is huge, modern and sparse, like a posh hotel suite. The kind I could never afford to stay in. He disappears and comes back a little while later with a bottle of water, which he silently throws down on the bed. He turns to leave again, and suddenly I'm afraid that this is it, in the morning I'll get up and go back to my normal life. I need to know where we stand after this, because the sex we just had blows everything else out of the water.

"I don't understand what's happening," I say quickly. It's not exactly what I meant to say, but it does the trick.

He stops. "What do you mean?"

The right words come to me.

"What is going on between us?" I ask. "What happens now?"

He pauses and thinks for a moment as if he hadn't considered it, taking me in with his arms crossed across his chest, his black T-shirt showing off his biceps. His expression is indifferent while he does it, and it makes my chest tight.

"If this arrangement works for you, I'm happy to continue."

A breath I didn't know I was holding comes out in a rush. It's not the kind of romantic declaration you see in movies, but it fucking feels like it in this moment. I have to work not to let my grin overtake my face.

"Ok," I say, going for equally as nonchalant, although I don't know if I pull it off. I'm feeling pretty damn good right now, like anything is within my grasp. Buoyed up, I feel brave enough to add, "But I want one amendment to the deal."

"What?" He frowns. "You're not happy with our agreement?"

I raise my chin. It's a risky move, because honestly, I'd take the deal as it is. But there's more I want from him, and I'm willing to push for it.

"I want to kiss you."

He blinks, regarding me warily, like I suggested we dance naked at midnight on the football field.

"Right now?"

God I would love to kiss him right now. But I shake my head. "Whenever I want."

His jaw tightens. "Perhaps I could allow it as part of your reward system."

I shake my head again, surprised at my own bravery. His offer isn't good enough. "Once a day. At a time of my choosing."

He thinks about it for some time, then drops his arms and nods slowly. "Fine. But I want an amendment too."

Ah. It hadn't occurred to me he could do the same thing. The idea of that is worrying.

"What?" I ask. I'm sure it's going to be something like I'm not allowed to talk to him in public or stay over at his house again. Something to keep some distance between us.

He steps closer to me, closing the gap. "I'm in charge of all aspects of your life, not just studying and sex. I want full control. You can still tap out at any time, but when you're with me, I'm your master."

Ok, not what I was expecting. Full control of everything? If anything, that would bring us closer together. And I must be insane, because that doesn't sound completely awful. Like, yeah it sounds kinda scary and a bit fucked up but . . . I mean he's done a pretty good job after only a week. And I can still tap out any time I like, so really there's nothing to lose, right? To be honest I'd do almost anything if it means he keeps giving me his cock. It's my drug of choice. Mal is my dealer, and he's got me good and hooked. And I'm not afraid to admit it to myself anymore. He's already shown me what he can do for me.

Before I can talk any sense into myself, I nod, and he allows a small smile that hides a multitude of sins and pleasures. A glimpse of the devil, that has heat creeping up my neck. He holds his hand out and I grip it tight as we shake like businessmen.

"Good. Then get some sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

That sounds . . . ominous. He leaves, his wide shoulders swaying like a snake. And despite my enthusiasm seconds ago, I can't help but think; what have I just gotten myself into?