On Your Knees, Prospect (Kings of Hell MC 3)

There was only one way to find out.

Vars nipped on his lips and let go with a final squeeze to Jake’s cheeks. The shaving gel felt cold on Jake’s chest, the massage was taunting, and the gentle flicking of digits against his slickened nipples had Jake rising on his toes, overcome with a wave or arousal. The sensation of a blade pulling over skin was as well-known to Jake as it was to any other man, but with the setup so different, it became a threat, a prelude to sex, and a mark of ownership all at once.

The razor felt unfamiliar on his chest, and he looked down, watching it slowly scrub the foamy gel and hair off his skin. In Vars’s thick fingers, the tool looked ridiculously small, as if it hadn’t been made for hands so strong, and yet each movement was done with careful precision that was reflected in the stern look on Vars’s face.

When Vars got the tool down Jake’s stomach, he didn’t proceed to the pubes but kneeled and worked on Jake’s legs instead. The chest had still made some sense in Jake’s mind, but having hair removed from his calves was somehow more frightening, maybe even emasculating? But then again, who was he to contest what Vars wanted from his submissive? If Vars wanted him hairless, then that was what Vars would get.

Being there for Vars’s every need would now become Jake’s purpose, and his true north, so that wherever he found himself in life, he would never be lost. Vars would be there as guide and protector.

It was when the blade inevitably approached Jake’s balls that his arousal wavered and his heart rose to his throat. The metal rings attaching leather cuffs to the cross clattered when Jake’s body went into an uncontrollable tremble. He could barely breathe, overcome with fear of what could possibly happen. In his mind, he could already feel the pain in the most vulnerable spot on his body and see a stream of blood trickling down his thighs. In a soundproof room, with Jake at his mercy, Vars could even get rid of Jake’s balls altogether, and there would be absolutely nothing Jake could do to stop him.

For several moments, he didn’t dare open his eyes, even as Vars spread the slick gel all over, caressing Jake’s groin and balls, and yet, he didn’t tell Vars to stop, didn’t scream “red”. He clenched his teeth, standing with his shaved legs spread for Vars.

Jake whimpered when the blade slowly trailed over the skin of his sac, ridding him of fuzz. The movement was repeated time and time again, covering inch after inch and getting Jake into a state beyond anxiety.

There was no reason to fear something he couldn’t help. Not that he wanted Vars to stop. He wanted for Vars to do as he pleased. The conclusion was so obvious Jake didn’t even worry about it anymore.

By the time Vars had finished, the sensation of the blade gliding over skin while Jake’s balls were safely cradled in Vars’s hands became weirdly pleasurable. Jake simply let go, allowed Vars to take over and not only make decisions about Jake’s body but also touch it in ways Jake wouldn’t have ever entrusted to anyone else. There was freedom in being able to make that decision, and each shaved hair was like an offering made on Vars’s altar.

When Vars used a soft towel to wipe off the remaining gel, Jake was almost regretful that the process was over. His face must have looked silly, because Vars smirked at him when he looked up, slowly tugging on Jake’s cock, which in the meantime had grown completely hard again. The torment wouldn’t end, and Jake loved it.

“Good boy. Look how smooth you are now. You’ll be more sensitive like this.”

“Yes, sir,” was all Jake could utter, taking a glance down his own body, to the large hand gripping his dick. It was the first time in his life to have his pubes shaved, and even one of Vars’s knuckles brushing against the skin there made Jake’s cock twitch.

Vars leaned closer, and Jake shut his eyes, shocked that his bare skin was already more sensitive to heat. Vars nuzzled Jake’s shoulder, loudly smelling his body but keeping away his hands, as if he didn’t want to touch a work of art that was as yet unfinished. Without a word, he walked off to the wall of tools made for causing pain and fear.

Which one would he choose?

Jake stared without blinking as Vars’s fingers hovered over a flogger, then over a cane, over a paddle, then moved back to the flogger. Vars wasn’t undecided. He was toying with Jake, and it made the nerves inside of Jake all the more tangled.

In the end, Vars squeezed his hand around the flogger and took it off the hook in a decisive gesture before heading back to Jake’s helplessly bound body. He took his time, swinging the tool through the air until all Jake could hear was the swish of the many leather tails.