Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

A low, needy moan rose up to his ears.

Max grinned. “So greedy. You can’t get enough.”

“Ungh… My God… Feels so—ungh—so fucking good…”

Not as good as it’s gonna feel. After all, Max had only just begun. He curled his two fingers and started on Sean’s G. Immediately, Sean’s ass cheeks re-clenched. Max spanked the right one with his free hand and chuckled. “You squeeze, you get spanked.”

Sean laughed. “Oh, fuck.”

Max smirked and kept going. Sean’s hips squirmed wildly. But before too long he succumbed and clenched again.

Max’s cock thrummed. Shit yeah, he loved that sensation, of Sean’s ring squeezing furiously around his fingers. Such pure, untainted kink. So fucking beautiful. And yet, well, rules were rules…

SMACK!

“Ah!”

“No clenching.”

And so things went for the next couple minutes—until Max’s hooded gaze settled on that feather duster. Again, his mind churned with pervy intent. Suddenly, the thing looked less like a duster and a whole lot more like a tail. A big, fluffy black one, to match Sean’s cuffs and collar. Max’s dick straight-up reeled as he reached for the thing. God, he fucking loved getting freaky with his cat.

Pulling out his oily fingers, he lubed the wooden handle. “Got a treat for you, caitín. A brand new tail for us to play with.”

Sean glanced over his shoulder, absently lifting his head. “A tail?” He frowned.

He looked so confused.

Max tamped his amusement and showed Sean the duster, then pushed his sub’s head right back down. “Yes. A tail. For my favorite little cat.”

“Oh, God,” Sean laughed, resting his brow back on the floor.

Max grinned and thumbed Sean’s entrance. “More pressure, a stór. Take what I give you and say thank you.”

Sean stilled, as if bracing. Max eased the tip through, then sank the thing deeper… and deeper. Sean moaned, hips canting against the invasion. Max kneaded Sean’s cheek, eyes rapt on that handle. Fuck yeah, all that smooth wood disappearing into Sean’s channel. Soon, all eight inches were gone from sight.

Sean exhaled in a rush. “Thank you, Maximus.”

Max smiled, “You’re welcome,” then leaned back in his chair and playfully swatted at the feathers. Sean laughed softly. Max smirked wolfishly, gripping the feathers’ base to give a jiggle.

“Ungh!” Sean’s body instinctively lurched forward.

Max smacked his ass. “No, slut. Get back here.”

Sean jerked but quickly straightened. Max gripped the base a second time. But instead of wiggling it, he pulled it up, then swiftly sank it all right back in again.

Sean grunted. “Uh—fuck.”

“Want more, cat?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Max repeated the action, then angled it to rub against Sean’s prostate. In—out—in—out. Sean’s moans came louder, until soon he was back to sliding forward.

Again, Max reprimanded his ass with a smack, shoving that handle to the hilt and out of the way. “You having problems, caitín? Can’t stay put like I asked?”

“Sorry, Maximus,” Sean panted. “That was just… so intense.”

“Mmhmm.” Max thoughtfully looked him over. His eyes settled shrewdly on Sean’s cuffs. Yup, right there. The answer to their dilemma. Pulling open a desk drawer, Max swiped up two clip hooks, then regarded Sean’s current position. Ass still up nicely, head still on the floor. “Alright, cat. I want your arms down between your knees with both hands gripping your heels.” Sean complied without question, seeming happy for the reprieve. Max clipped each wrist cuff to its ankle-cuff twin, then sat back up and smiled. “Problem solved.”

Because it really truly was. With Sean’s hands connected to his feet, his body couldn’t straighten, which meant no more leaning forward. Pet contained.

Mmm, yeah. Bondage. Gotta love that shit.

Max gripped Sean’s ass cheeks and gave them a squeeze, pulled them deliciously apart, then squashed them close together. Sean moaned, no doubt because his sensitized prostate just got crammed up against that nice, thick handle.

One more smack, one more startled gasp. Max rubbed Sean’s red flesh, then got back to playing. And man, did that duster glide smoothly in and out. Like a warm knife through even warmer butter. Didn’t matter that Sean’s sphincter was clenching like mad, or that his ass cheeks were doing the same. That fabulous olive oil had neutralized all resistance, with Sean’s cuffs keeping his squirming body in place. And boy, was he squirming. And shuddering. And gasping.

Max gazed at Sean’s face, loving this new position, how Sean’s cheek was now pressed against the floor. It allowed Max to see every expression, every wince. When Sean’s mouth shot open, overwhelmed by sensation. When he clenched his jaw. Every grimace of pure ecstasy.

Max pumped his makeshift toy—faster, then slower—watching Sean’s eyes roll rapturously into his head. Watching them squeeze shut when Max pistoned Sean harder, then peel back open when Max finally eased up. And fuck, that drugged-out gaze when Sean’s dark blues were open. Like Sean wasn’t really seeing as his eyes stared forward. Like his awareness was locked solely on his ass. Where Max was fucking him with that naughty wooden handle, working Sean’s prostate into a frenzy.