17. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Sigmund didn’t have his outfit, but he didn’t need it. He had a change of clothes, so he wore a simple dark green T-shirt and his jeans.

Rowan, on the other hand, had bought another outfit for his small vacation with Sig. He had a red leather jock, a red plaid kilt, and a white mesh muscle shirt that made him look great.

He’d tried it on several times, along with ten others, wanting to entice his man.

When Sigmund walked into the bedroom and saw him, his jaw dropped comically.

“You like this?”

“Uh…well…fuck yeah! You look so hot!”

“Don’t sound so surprised about it!”

Sig laughed and went to him, grabbing his ass into both hands and lifting him for a rough kiss. “I’m gonna be one proud man to walk in there with you.”

“I’m the proud one,” Rowan told him sincerely, as Sig set him back on his feet. “My beautiful, big boyfriend, the guy I’m so crazy about, who loves me.”

“You got that right. Well, almost right. I think we’re engaged.”

“Oh! Oh, God, right!”

“Good. Now, put on your shoes so we can go. I already called the coach.”

He had white leather ankle boots that he had fallen in love with on a shopping trip a year before and had never worn out. He put them on and entered the living room, seeing that Sig was holding his coat. “May I?”

After Sig helped him with it, he spun Rowan around and kissed his forehead. “You look great. I’m going to show you off tonight.”

“Okay. I like that.”

“And I promise, baby. I’m not leaving you for a second. Not one second. You go to take a piss, I go. You understand? Don’t leave my sight.”

“I won’t. Thank you, Sigmund. You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever known.”

With a deep, gritty chuckle, he said, “You’re not gonna think that after tonight.”

Before he could grill Sig for what he meant, the coach was honking. After Sig grabbed a bag he had by the door, they left into the cold night and got into the coach, Rowan sitting close to Sig as they sat across from two men making out. Rowan wondered if they even knew he and Sigmund were there.

“What’s in the bag?” he whispered.

“None of your business,” Sig said then he started making out with Rowan.

He was lost in those kisses, the feel of Sig’s beard, lips, tongue, and breath. He was lost in the love he never thought he’d find, and he was smiling into the kisses.

When they arrived, the other couple got out first, and then Sig got out and helped Rowan to the ground before waving to the driver and holding out his arm for Rowan to take. “What a gentleman!”

“I was raised right, what can I say?”

They entered the door and the place was hopping, like it had been the last time they’d been there. Jace approached them, kissing Rowan’s cheek and shaking Sig’s hand. “You both look yummy.”

Roland jogged over and hugged Rowan. “You look so good!” Then he looked at Sig and said, sheepishly, “I just bet you want to kill us.”

“No. I have him, so anyway I get him, I’m good with it.”

Roland hugged Sig then, and Rowan was happy he wasn’t angry at their friends.

“Did you set up what I…wanted?” Sig asked Jace.

“It’s ready, and I have a bunch of guys chomping at the bit to see it.”

“See what?” Rowan asked, and Roland must not have known because he asked the same thing.

“Never mind, boys,” Jace said with a wink to Roland. “You get Tango and the others and head up. Sig and Rowan need to get in position.”

“Position?”

Sig growled, “Will you shut the fuck up? Damn!”

Rowan clamped his mouth shut and was led toward the stairs.

Sig wasn’t gruff with him on the way up, however. He talked him through it, assuring him he was going to be okay being in the same place he was in when that jerk had made him feel like shit.

“I know, the VIP might be rough for you. The mother fucker that came up to you, well, he was wrong. You were with me, and it brought back a lot of feelings you had about yourself. He was wrong, and I was wrong to beat his ass like I did, but I’d do it again. I will never allow anyone to hurt you in any way, Rowan.”

Rowan nodded, but he felt a little shaky. “I’m more secure now. And…it was true, what you said. I did what I had to do. I’m not ashamed of my past, what I did for money.”

“You shouldn’t be. That doesn’t mean some asshole thinking all he has to do is shove money at you and you’re gonna fuck him doesn’t hurt.”

“It hurt. It did. But, after that, it meant that I had this guy that would beat up the world for me, just because it had hurt me.”

Sig chucked and said, “I shouldn’t have done that. But I would.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

They got up to the VIP floor, and Rowan took a deep breath as the bouncer, Sergio, said to them, “Welcome back! Jace has you set up back there, on the last stage.”

Rowan’s hand tightened on Sig’s. “Stage?”

“You’re not dancing, and I’m not leaving your side, remember?”

“Right. Okay.”

They made it back to the stage in the far back of the floor, and Rowan saw a table on the stage and a curtain hanging down from chains on the ceiling across the table.

“What is this?”

“Stop asking fucking questions before I stick a bit and bridle on you.”

Rowan laughed, but he was taken onto the stage, and it had worked. The table set there and the fact Sig was with him made the stage comfortable for him. He could forget about the last time he’d been on it.

“Okay, my baby, this is what is about to happen. You’ll lay up here, and I’m tying you down. That’s mostly for your safety. I’m going to do some things to you, but I don’t want other men looking at your dick and ass. I’m a little…possessive that way.”

“I’m good with that.”

“Men are going to watch, though. They’re going to watch your face. Jace has a camera that will project your face up on the walls. All the men in the room will see your face as I do these things to you. And…they’ll hear you. They’ll listen to your groans and your screams.”

“Screams?”

Sig kissed him tenderly. “Yes, baby. Screams.”

Chills went through him, but Sig held him, whispering, “It’s okay. You have a safeword. I want you to remember this forever and replace all the bad memories with memories of us.”

“I’m good. I can do this.”

“Sweet baby. If you have a problem, you let me know. If you get nervous, or scared, or you get bad thoughts and need down, you have to tell me. That’s it. I promise we’ll go back to the cabin, and I’ll just hold you all night. I’m never leaving you alone again.”

That reassurance meant so much to him that Rowan couldn’t speak. He just pressed his face to Sig’s shoulder and held him until they both heard men entering the VIP.

“Get on the table, babe.”

“Okay. I’m nervous, but not in a bad way.”

“Good.”

Rowan got up on the table and Sig fiddled with the curtain, so it cut him off across his belly. Sig got Rowan’s jock off and then got his legs spread and set apart, with spreader bars by the feel of it, then bent his knees and fastened the bar to the table.

After all that, he came to the other side of the curtain and got Rowan’s arms and wrists bound to the table's edge. “Comfortable enough?”

“Yes. I feel fine.”

“Good boy.”

Rowan turned his head and Roland winked at him, Jace giving him a wave. He turned back to stare at the ceiling, the high ceiling above him that was all rough-hewn barn wood, since they were, in fact, in a barn. He let his mind drift up to that wood, thinking about how much such a thing, that wood, had become so important to him.

The beauty of those roses Sigmund made for him, the disaster of his trying to copy them. Even the club had many more good memories than bad. The club was where they met. The club was where he first looked into those beautiful emerald/chocolate eyes.

He found he could smile then, and he went up into those grains in every bit of wood, hiding there, remembering every second of the short time he’d spent with the man. The looks, the touches, the kisses, and the words.

Sig began to stroke his cock, and he jumped a little as the cold of the lube shocked him. He heard some snickering as Jace set up the camera. “I’m right here, honey, don’t let me scare you.”

“I’m okay, Jace.”

“I know. I’m proud of you.”

“Stop flirtin’ with my man, Jace,” Sig called, but then he laughed. “I know, it’s hard not to. He’s pretty.”

“He’s pretty, but I have two pretty boys right over there. I’m set. Besides, I’ve seen how you hit. That would keep me from flirting.”

Roland called, “Hurry up and come flirt with us then!”

The camera was set, and Rowan turned his head to see his face on the walls of the VIP area. Two walls, to be exact. Sig came around the curtain again and asked if he was okay. “I’m good. It’s a little weird.”

“You’re larger than life, baby. I told you that. Now, put on a good show for these fellas.”

It was weird not being able to see Sig working, but he supposed the blindfold from earlier was practice for that.

Each touch from Sig was amplified, and he felt cold, lubricated fingers exploring his hole. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned, hearing himself over the speakers.

He fought to ignore the camera, the speakers, and it wasn’t hard after he was being finger fucked hard, three fingers being rammed into his ass.

His hands curled into fists, and his head thrown back, and his mind was splintering. It was so good, so shocking that it was happening in front of a crowd, he couldn’t grab onto any thought for more than a second.

Sig kept increasing the fingers inside him, along with more lube. Two to three fingers, then a fourth as he clenched his jaw and his fists, breathing heavily through it.

And then, something else was set on his entrance. He barely conceived that the fingers had left his ass, and there was something else pushing up into him. It didn’t take him long to realize it was the fist dildo.

Once it broke through the ring of muscle, Rowan’s eyes watered, and the tears ran into his hair. The audience was watching him closely, and he didn’t care about that, he didn’t even realize they were there most of the time.

Yes, it was a little more than half of the size of Sig’s big hand, but he’d only been fisted twice, and he remembered how intense it was. Grunting, his head began to thrash, and he heard moaning from the audience. Not that he could look at them. His eyes were blurred, and that only got worse as the fist moved deeper inside him.

He was well-lubed, and the fist slid easily inside him, but the fist itself was thick, and he felt it throughout his entire lower body. Toes curling inside his boots, head back, neck arched hard, he let out a gargled holler that sounded weak.

There was some applause, but Rowan barely heard it.

Sig was there suddenly, though the dildo was still inside him. “How are you doing, baby?”

He couldn’t speak, but he did open his eyes and saw the shadow of Sig if nothing else.

“Good boy. It’s about to get a lot more intense. Tell me now if you can’t handle it.”

“Fuck me, Santa,” he managed, and the entire area applauded.

Sig told the crowd, “His ass is currently filled with a fist dildo, and he’s about to be sounded.”

More applause and whistles, catcalls as Sig's words sunk into him.

“At the same time?”

Sig winked at him and said, “You know the fucking word, boy.”

He let his head drop to the hard wooden table, and even though that hurt, he barely felt it.

The fist itself was sitting perfectly on his prostate, making him want to squirm, but being sounded…that meant if he moved at all, it would be terribly painful. Sig started to stroke him, getting his cock hard so he could insert the sounding rods. Huffing, Rowan closed his eyes and let his body separate from his mind.

When he opened his eyes again, he pictured the grain of the wood again, each grain, the dark, the light, and he thought of what they meant.

Years. Growth.

Like humans, trees change each year. They grow taller and wider, the roots dig deeper, and the leaves come in the spring and fall in the autumn.

Connecting to that, Rowan smiled up at the wood, realizing he was more like a tree than he ever thought. He worked in jobs most would see as immoral and lewd, but they were jobs. Like Sig had told him repeatedly, he did what he had to do. Those jobs had given him a home, and more than that. They’d brought him to Carrillo Ranch, where he’d found the love of his life.

The sounding rod was moving into his dick, but it didn’t hurt. It was more of an annoyance, and it made him feel as if he had to piss. He was floating above the room, running his fingertips along the grains of the beams on the ceiling. The smooth wood soothed him, took him inside of it, and he knew that he belonged there.

What happened to his body while his mind floated was incredible. It was as if he could look down and watch it happen. Carefully, with his brow drawn hard, Sig was fucking the rod in and out of his cock, like he usually fucked his ass. Though…not as hard.

The dildo was kept in place by Sig’s leg, and when his leg moved even a little, the fist would rub aggressively against his prostate. As the sounding rod moved deeper into his cock, Sig’s leg moved purposely.

The guy knew exactly what he was doing.

Floating, starting to fly, the apparition of Rowan was feeling what his body felt. Prostate being milked, cock being fucked, it was almost too much. His mind was breaking, and he held onto the sight of those wood grains, flowing with them over the beams, moving further from his body and yet feeling more of his body than ever.

Things he’d have never noticed were with him. His heaving breaths, the tickle of the sweat rolling from his face into his hair. The heat of his boots, the rub of the leather tops on his calves.

Like when he was blindfolded, he heard things he’d never have noticed. The scraping of chairs on the wood floors, the breathing and murmuring of the audience. He heard the wet sound of kissing, the rub of hands over denim and leather.

The rod was dropped into his cock, and he felt like his entire body was caught in some strange fist that was crushing him. He could barely breathe, his lungs unable to take in the air, and he held onto the ceiling beams with his mind and felt his fingernails cutting into the wood.

He heard a whining moan getting louder and louder. Then the dildo began to be fucked into his ass, and he knew he’d lose whatever mind he had left.

Being fucked in his ass and cock at the same time was too much. It was too much! He couldn’t grasp a thought for more than a millisecond; he couldn’t fill his lungs, and they were quickly emptying.

Then, as the dildo was shoved deep within him, the rod was taken out of his cock, and his body was squeezed tighter, but at the same time, it felt free. He stiffened, his mind caught in the squeezing, and all his thoughts were pushed away.

When he came back to earth, landing back on the table after releasing the ceiling, he heard thunderous applause, like he’d gotten before, when he danced. He wondered if he was dancing, where he was, how he’d gotten there, and then…

Sig was there. “Baby? Are you okay?”

“Sig? What happened?”

Jace called out from the audience, “You came so hard, you passed out! Scared your man half to death!”

Sig smiled and agreed, “Scared ten full years off me.”

He was unbound, as he reached his heavy arms up to wrap around Sig’s neck. “That…that was incredible!”

“You were incredible. Damn, baby. Let’s get you to aftercare.”

“Yes. Let’s.”