Max gestured to Sean. “Down on all fours in front of me, facing sideways.” Sean did as he was told. Max rested his boot on Sean’s back. “In these kinds of dynamics, a sub thrives on servitude, on anything really, that makes his Dom happy. Could be doing chores. Rubbing his feet. Bringing him a beer. Or maybe greeting his Dom collared and naked when he comes home from work.
“Some subs like wearing slave bells, find the chimes soothing. Some Dom require their subs to request joining them on the furniture. Or make them crawl to bed every night. And nearly all Doms have their subs display themselves whenever possible.” Max paused. “Do you know what I mean by display themselves?”
Sean shook his head. “Not really, but I’m betting you’ll tell me.”
Max smirked a little and set his boot down. “No matter where a Dom is or what he’s doing, his sub offers him an unobstructed view of his body—in a position his Dominant has chosen. Many Doms, for example, like their subs ass up-head down, while holding their cheeks spread for viewing enjoyment.” Max’s tiny smirk widened. He motioned for Sean to turn away. “Try it out, a stór. Let’s see what you think.”
“Uh, okay,” Sean chuckled. “Yes, Sir.” He assumed position and gave Max an eyeful.
Max’s lids dipped low. What a lip-smacking sight. Sean’s little star all quietly beckoning. If Sean was his twenty-four-seven boy, Max would be showing that sweet hole some love right now. With his fingers. With his tongue. Then with every single inch of his dick. His eyes hooded lower. “You like that? Think you could do it on demand?”
Cheek pressed to the floor, Sean thought, then smiled. “Sure. Why not. It’d be hot.”
Fuck yeah, it would. Hell, Max was sporting wood right now. Although, he hadn’t expected Sean to answer so quickly. And so positively. Damn it. He was perfect. So fucking perfect.
“Up,” Max muttered. “Come sit by my leg.” When Sean did, Max continued while petting his head. “Doms love to interrupt their subs whenever they want to use them in dirty, kinky ways. Subs like this, too, because it makes them feel owned. Owned and intensely desired.”
Sean exhaled quietly and nuzzled Max’s hand.
Max’s cool façade wavered. He paused his petting. “Some Doms ink their subs or pierce them,” he went on, voice gruff. “Some have been known to even brand them.”
Sean stiffened. “Holy fuck.”
“All consensual, of course.” Max stood up and procured a leash. Then returned and hooked it to Sean’s collar. “Come,” he commanded, walking Sean over to the cage. Sean eyed it apprehensively as he crawled on hands and knees, but this time he didn’t have to worry. Max wasn’t putting him in it. He had other plans. “Turn and sit on your haunches, with your back against the cage door.”
Sean obeyed, looking a little perplexed but totally game. Which didn’t exactly surprise Max anymore. That was just how Sean rolled, rarely ever daunted by surprises. Hell, in most cases, the unknown seemed to thrill him. If the end wasn’t so near, Max would’ve smiled in amusement.
He sank down in front of Sean, on his haunches, too. “Offer me your wrist.”
Sean gazed at him. “Just one?”
“Yup. Your left.”
Sean handed it over.
Max clipped its cuff to one of the cage’s horizontal bars, up by Sean’s shoulder, out of the way. Next, he fed the leash behind Sean and back out again, then palmed the tops of Sean’s knees. “Spread these wide.”
Sean’s lips curved. “Yes, Maximus.”
He parted them generously, but Max eased them even further, binding each to the bars with said leash. There. All limbs but one exquisitely immobilized. Max eased back and openly appreciated the view. His cat, spread eagle, hard as a rock, his ocean-deep blues straight-up smoldering. With anticipation, and lust, with need and excitement. But also with riled up affection.
Max’s chest tightened. His walls shook.
Ah, God. This was hard.
Frowning, he cleared his throat. “Your Dom could do this anytime. Tie you to whatever, whenever he wanted. You could be reading, doing homework, baking chocolate chip cookies, when outta nowhere, bam, he’d be marching you toward his playroom.”
Sean smiled a playful smile. “But the cookies would burn.”
“Cookies would be the last thing on your mind.”
Sean’s eyes hooded. “Until the fire alarm went off.”
Max smirked and sat down, resting his forearms on bended knees. “Lick your palm, Sean, and stroke yourself.”
Sean stilled, his smile ebbing. “Yes, Maximus,” he murmured, lifting his hand, opening his mouth.
Max watched with hungry eyes as Sean grabbed his cock and pumped. Up and down his shaft, nice and slow. “Faster,” he commanded.
Sean promptly obeyed.
“Good. Don’t stop.” Max squeezed his own fly, then tried with all his might to refocus. “Back to full-time subs. Some Doms make them workout, have them adhere to strict diets. Some implement very structured schedules.”