5

-MALCOLM-

CRACK

Ispank his red ass again, enjoying the way it makes his body ripple and clench. Fuck he looks so good like this, his lean powerful body bare, on his knees for me, collared and obedient and all mine. How did I get this lucky?

I cut the thought off and push it aside. That's dangerously close to sentimental. But still . . . he does look good, I can admit that at least.

I run my hand along his back and over his ass, his skin smooth and hot as a fever. Then I stand.

"Stay there," I say.

He waits obediently on his hands and knees as I fetch the things I need from another room. When I come back he's still there, twitching and panting. He's so desperate for me to fill him up, and I have to swallow at the sight of him, his defined muscles tensed, the bulk of his body bent and trembling.

He flinches when I squirt lube down his crack and rub it around with the head of the ribbed black dildo. He moves his hips against it, eager to take it inside, but I pull it back again, teasing him until he's panting and needy.

"You want to be filled up?"

"Yes," he says, breathless and wrecked. It makes my cock twitch. I swipe my tongue over my lips.

"Beg for it."

He groans under his breath. "Please."

I rub the dildo against his hole, pressing and drawing back, teasing him more. "Tell me what you want."

"I want to be filled," he gasps. "I want you to fill me up."

The dildo slides up and down. "How do you want me to fill you?"

He pauses. What, suddenly he has a problem with wanting a huge dildo up his ass? Not having second thoughts, is he? I spank his ass again and he flinches and hisses at the pain.

"Tell me, Nolan. Or I'll go put my toy away again."

He shudders a breath out and says, "I want you to fill me up with the dildo."

I un-tense and smile while he can't see me. "That's better."

A push, and the head of the dildo pushes inside his rim, stretching his hole out tight around it. He gasps and his hips buck. He looks so fucking good it's taking all of my self-control not to ram it in in one hard shove and watch him squirm. Or even better, throw the dildo away and get my own cock in there. But this is a test for me just as much as it is for him, and I hold it still, just inside his rim of muscle.

"Is this what you want?" I hiss through clenched teeth.

"Y-yes."

"Tell me why you want it."

He crumbles, the talking seems to be having just as much effect on him as the dildo. "Because I need it. I need your toy inside me, stretching me and filling me up, and making me feel so good. Please, I need you to fuck me with it. I need it, Mal." He's practically wailing at this point, totally lost in his need.

Ugh, hearing him beg like this is like goddamn crack in my veins. A wave of sizzling pleasure rolls through me, setting my own cock throbbing, and I savor the moment, drinking in his trembling body, flushed and already sweaty, and the way his head hangs down between his shoulders, utterly defeated.

"Good boy."

Then I push the dildo in all the way. His arms buckle beneath him and he almost falls forward but manages to catch himself on his elbows and bears down on the dildo, pushing back as his back arches and his asshole stretches out around it.

"You look so good like this Nolan, stretched out around my toy and begging for more."

I fuck the dildo in and out, and more fluid leaks from the tip of his cage. I want to milk it all out of him. His body rocks and shakes with every thrust, and I love having this power over him. This strong young man in his prime, the golden boy, loved by all, completely at my mercy and loving every fucking second of it.

Just when it seems like he's going to completely lose it and come inside his cage, I shove the dildo in deep and let go. He stays there, body shaking, as I go and put my book down on the other side of the room and sit down again, palming my cock through my pants.

"Is that better? Full enough?" I say, and he nods jerkily, his head limp, his blond hair hanging down. "Go get me my book."

His back stiffens, but he doesn't say anything. He crawls slowly to the other side of the room where my book is sitting on the side. I don't want to read it, but I want to make him crawl with that huge dildo up his ass while I sit back and watch. My hand runs lazy circles on the shaft of my cock.

He picks it up in his mouth without me even having to tell him and crawls back to me. His eyes are screwed shut and his body hitches with every movement as the huge dildo moves around inside him. It's probably pressed up against his prostate. The pressure must be agonizing. I lick my lips and hold my hand out for the book, which he drops into it. Fuck he's being so good for me. How has he fallen into my training so easily? Who'd have thought North Nolan was a natural sub? I never imagined I would own him so completely. It's almost enough to make me come on the spot.

I sit back, open the book, and put my feet on his back, like the world's sexiest footstool. He makes a hot indignant sound. I'm achingly hard, but I pretend to ignore him, just like I did earlier as he trembles under my feet.

"You've distracted me enough, Nolan. Fuck yourself with the dildo while I finish my reading. I want to see the cum dripping out of your cage as you struggle through a ruined climax."

His body reacts to my words, his shoulders clench and hitch. He reaches around and grasps the base of the dildo then starts sliding it in and out of his asshole while I pretend not to watch.

"Faster," I say.

He picks up the pace. His mouth is hanging open, his eyes are squeezed shut, and his body ripples with each thrust. I watch him wind himself up, torturing himself, until finally, he moans obscenely, helpless and completely wrecked, and his body judders. I watch as he comes inside his cage, and it drips between his legs in a pathetic stream.

Thank fuck his eyes are closed because I can't take my wide eyes off his face as he milks himself dry with the dildo. The puddle of cum between his legs grows until he finally slumps and breathes raggedly into the carpet.

I put the book down.

"I've finished my reading."

***

Afterward, I take North to the bathroom to clean him off. He steps into the shower and I roll my sleeves up. I rinse him off and take my time washing him until he's pink and clean.

I take special care to lather his caged cock, enjoying the noises he makes and the way he flexes his hips in small, aborted movements against my hand.

He looks like a deity with the water trailing down over his chest, between his defined shoulder blades, over his tight ass and long legs. His blond hair sticks to his head, dark with water.

The washing carries on longer than strictly necessary before I turn the shower off. He steps out, water dripping down the length of his naked body. I want to bend him over the towel rack and fuck him right here and now. I want to cover that smooth toned body with my marks, claim him as all mine.

I grab a towel, big, white, and soft, and rub him down. He holds still and closes his eyes. I start on his chest, rub over his biceps, work down, and give his dick, sack, and ass some attention. He hisses in a breath at the contact and the muscles on his jaw twitch. Then I work down the length of each muscled leg. I step back and take a good long look at him. He's fucking perfect. And he's mine. He stares back at me with his bright blue eyes. His face is expressionless, but his eyes seem . . . open. If that makes sense. Calm. Attentive.

"Follow me."

In the spare room where he spent the night, I point to the floor by the bed. "Sit."

He does, folding his legs under him.

"Stay."

This is perfect. This is exactly how I wanted him. Quiet and obedient. No cheesy grins and no wisecracks.

I go into my room and search in the closet for something for him to wear. He still has the clothes he came in yesterday, but they won't do; a ratty old pair of jeans, T-shirt, and hoodie. I'm going to work on that, but in the meantime, he can have some of mine. I select a pair of pants, a shirt that still has the tags on, and some plain underwear. Then I put the boxers back. I like the thought of him going commando under his clothes, ready for me if I want access at any time.

Back in the spare room, he's still sitting on the floor by the bed, although he's slumped somewhat into a lazy position, with his legs sprawled out and his hand supporting his weight. I'll have to work on that, too. But it can wait.

"Stand."

He gets to his feet lazily and pushes a hand through his still damp hair, so that it sticks up rakishly at odd angles. I get him to spread his legs, hands on the bed, then I take off the cage and put his usual butt plug in. Once I'm done, I unfold the trousers, and he goes to take them.

"No," I say, pulling them away, and then holding them out again, open, for him to slip inside.

He looks confused for a moment, and then a bit embarrassed when he catches on, but he steps into them. I dress him slowly and carefully.

"Are you gonna do this every day? Wash me and dress me?" he asks, sounding half amused, half self-conscious.

"If I want to," I say.

He huffs a quiet breath through his nose as I finish buttoning up the shirt.

"Not sure if I feel like a dog, or a prince."

I should punish him for asking questions and speaking without permission. I've told him enough times not to, but he looks good and the process of dressing him has put me into a calm state of mind. My clothes suit him. A little loose on the shoulders and legs, but he still looks fucking hot. He could make a potato sack look sexy.

"Right. Let's go," I say, leading the way out and down to the hallway, where I grab the keys to the Porsche. I would like to say the Porsche was a gift from my father on my seventeenth birthday, but I bought it on his card for myself. I doubt he even noticed.

North follows at my heels. "Where are we going?"

I quirk an eyebrow.

"Retail therapy," I say. "We're going to fix your wardrobe problem."

He blinks his big blue eyes. "What wardrobe problem?"