"Do you want my cock in your mouth?" Marcus demanded, cognizant they were still standing center stage.
Thomas nodded. Marcus reached out, toyed with the numbered disk on his chest.
"When I ask you a question, Slave Sixty-Eight, you will respond, 'Yes, Master'. " Thomas' nostrils flared. "Yes, Master. "
Marcus let his fingers trail upward now, hook under the buckled collar, tugging so Thomas moved a step forward. "You want it enough to take it here, in front of all of them?"
Thomas inhaled sharply, but Marcus saw his eyes close, his cock jump another inch.
He didn't like it confined in the Latex, but he knew his slave would need it, though there were few things he liked as much as feeling Thomas' semen warming and wetting his skin, smelling the musk of it. "Yes, Master. Whatever pleases you. " There was a wave of appreciative response from those sitting nearby, a reaction to the chance to witness an unexpected floo
r show. The Dom who'd spoken to Marcus took a seat on a divan behind Thomas, not more than several feet away, where he'd get a good view of every flex and shift of Thomas' tight ass, still penetrated by the probe, the strap running between his buttocks.
Marcus exerted downward pressure on the collar. "On your knees, then. " As he stripped off his belt, he thought what it would be like to leave his marks on Thomas' flesh, hear the pleasurable grunts of pain. He could let the other Master do it while Thomas sucked him off, a suitable punishment for his flirtation earlier in the day, but Marcus wanted the pleasure of marking his skin. He wanted to hoard all the pleasure involving Thomas.
Marcus also thought about having Thomas clasp his hands behind his head, his only anchor Marcus' hand in his hair, pushing him into a bobbing rhythm on the cock he knew was long, thick and hard enough to gag most slaves. But Thomas knew how to take all of him, so good at relaxing his throat. He wanted to feel Thomas' hands.
Thomas' first touch caused a shudder to run through him. Marcus was usually good at masking such reactions, but apparently breaking Thomas into his first high-level BDSM arena was affecting him strangely. Though scared as hell, Thomas was trusting him. And the power of a submissive's trust could blow away anything a Master had to offer.
Thomas unfastened Marcus' slacks, took down the zipper and eased underwear and outer garment down just enough in front to release Marcus' cock to the gaze of the crowd a scant moment before he covered most of it with his mouth, not an easy feat. He took it deep into the back of his throat, just as Marcus liked it. It made him pulse and leak the first drops onto Thomas' tongue. When he felt Thomas swallow, he suppressed a growl of response.
Thomas' strong, firm fingers circled him, his thumb stroking the taut vein beneath as he slid down, up. Slow, letting the crowd see the glistening moisture his mouth left all along Marcus' shaft, polishing it up for them.
Like many submissives when being Dominated, Thomas' focus narrowed only to his Master, so Marcus knew it was likely his slave was no longer even aware he was performing in front of a group. Essentially given no choice, his only task was to please his Master. His tongue caressed Marcus, tasted, mouth pulling, increasing suction.
Marcus was overwhelmed by the picture of it, both before his eyes and in his mind.
Thomas on his knees before him, naked. Long, muscular lean body bare in all ways except for the cock harness straps, the probe up his ass, the collar on his throat telling everyone he belonged to someone. At least in here, Marcus didn't have to pretend it was true - or wonder how true it was.
Another couple had come in, another slave stripping, and the energy in the proportionally small area was hot, pounding, pulsing. All of them were sucked into this tableau in the center however, and many of the men had moved closer. There was a circle of aroused, tense males within five feet of them on all sides. Marcus knew it was Thomas who held them riveted.
A new, relatively inexperienced sub on his knees and working his Master's cock in his mouth, his own organ stiff and straight above his thighs like a sun dial, needing release, restrained by the collar cinched around it.
Trying to retain his sanity, Marcus slid a hand into his loose pocket, amazed that he didn't fumble. He removed the remote, held it up so others could see, and pressed it to highest setting, where he knew the probe would do a staccato dance against Thomas' prostate.
The reaction was instant, and gratifying. Thomas jerked, his buttocks squeezing together in a way that caused several groans from their audience. Even Marcus had to suppress a reaction as muscles rippled along Thomas' curved back, his broad shoulders bunching.
"You keep working me, pet. Don't you let go. "
Thomas made an inarticulate sound against his cock, part plea, part growl. His hand tightened on the base of Marcus' cock, the other dropping to grip his thigh through the trousers, fingers pushing into hard muscle. Marcus' hips were jerking, cock so stiff it barely moved, but Marcus knew it was ready to explode. Thomas' breath was a harsh rasp, hot friction against him, working him the way only a man knew to do.
Ruthless, relentless, fucking fantastic.
"Keep going," Marcus said sharply. Thomas clumsily obliged, trying to keep his mouth moving in a rhythm over him as the probe turned him mindless. Responding to his Master on instinct alone and filling Marcus with an even more ravenous desire to push him, to make him give it all.
Just when Thomas was sure he was going to come, cock harness or not, Marcus eased the vibration to a slow hum and forcibly pulled his head back, taking Thomas' mouth from his cock, leaving him staring at the broad head, licking his lips from the salty taste of what had come into his mouth, collected on the tip.
He was forced to sit back, despite wanting to feel it deep in his ass, even if it meant turning around and putting his hind end in the air like an eager hound. But Marcus rearranged his clothes over his enormous erection and brought him to his feet with his hand on his elbow. "Come with me. "
"That's where I thought we were headed," Thomas rasped. Marcus' fingers bit into his arm and he subsided, though he was pretty certain he saw his Master's lips curve before Thomas lowered his gaze back to his feet as he'd been ordered to do.
Marcus took him down a dimly lit hall strung with lights to show murals on the wall depicting explosions, red and orange streaks of fire. Long strips of cloth hung from the ceiling in a staggered pattern, some translucent, some solid, so the different textures brushed the skin and occluded vision. It was easy to brush against the bodies of those passing in the opposite direction, smell the scents of different men. Thomas kept his gaze glued on Marcus' feet with effort, his Master's grip on his arm firm.
They emerged into the dizzying lights and noise of the main club area. Though he'd been able to mostly forget about the watching crowd from the intensity of going down on Marcus, Thomas was relieved he was no longer the center of attention. Here the music was loud, throbbing. There was a crowded dance floor, darkness and strobe lights giving brief images of all the things going on.
Men in cages suspended over the dance floor. A couple of them dancing while a handler stood on the platform outside, ready with a hot stick or cattle prod if they didn't obey their Master's mandate to perform for the crowd. One of the men had tears on his cheeks, perhaps as new to this as Thomas, but like Thomas his cock was hard. He was dancing with a riveting fury, his hands in clenched fists against the struggle going on within him.
On another two raised platforms, men were bound spread eagle to spinning wheels.