Sex in C Major
Chapter 43

Silencing him.

"Let's hope so."

His master's jacket rustled. Something cold touched the edge of his nipple-then bit down.

Fire and pain shot through Stefan's chest and he shouted against the hand before he could stop. Then sobbed, helpless, as the same icy bite savaged the other. His nipples were pinched. Every breath jarred them. Clamps. Oh God, clamps. Too tight and too hard-they'd tear him, they'd tear, they'd tear...

His master tweaked one of them, and Stefan cried at the shudder of pain and pleasure, wound together inseparably, that seared through his flesh.

Then his jacket was zipped up.

The pull and press of leather was unbearable and then he was shoved against the bricks, his master's chest crashing into his own, and his mouth swallowed in a kiss.

And his master began to grind.

Stefan clung and cried, blind and dizzy. His master was the only anchor, a hot wall of pain at his front. His legs scrabbled on the bricks to try and slow the thrusts as he was ground against, rutted like he could be fucked through their clothes- and the loose jacket ripped and rasped over the nipple clamps, tearing them over skin.

He fought, and wrenched his head away gasping.

He could cry. Could safeword. Could scream.

But his master's arms came around his back. The thrusts got faster. The pain and pleasure got worse and better.

So Stefan shook apart, whimpering, as he felt his master's dick press between his thighs. As he felt the clamps torture him by the nipples. As he felt teeth sink into his neck, and hot breath sear his cold skin.

He squeezed his thighs around the cock between them, and began to blindly thrust back.

He would please his master.

He would.

****

By the time they reached the hotel, it was midnight. Stefan was cold, shaking apart from the cuff on his thigh and the clamps on his tits, and yet grinding back on the hand in his pocket as they travelled to the third floor in the slowest lift he'd

ever seen.

"I'd relax if I were you," his master said casually as they were spat out onto the third floor. "I told you, it's going to be a long night."

Relax? He had to be kidding. Everything between Stefan's scalp and the soles of his feet was vibrating with tension. He needed to be fucked. And he needed it now.

"I-I want you, Sir."

"Really?"

"Yes, Sir."

"It's just as well," Daz said as he unlocked the room and shoved Stefan inside. He ignored Stefan as he locked it behind them, and opened the wardrobe. Inside was a small safe, and Stefan watched his phone, wallet, and train ticket disappear inside. "Strip."

Stefan stripped. The jacket hit the floor. The jeans had to be wriggled out of. Even his socks and shoes were claimed-and then were shoved into the safe, and Stefan pushed towards the bed.

Behind him, he heard the beep of the safe locking, and felt a chill travel down his spine.

"If I'm not pleased by check-out tomorrow morning," his master said, dragging Stefan up the bed by a hand around his throat, "then I will check out and leave you here for the maids to replace. With no money, no phone, no clothes, and no way home. Are we clear?"

Stefan swallowed. "Y-yes, Sir."

"Safeword?"

"Checkmate. Sir."

A hand was run through his hair and he was arranged on the bed. The clamps on his nipples stuck straight out from his body, and the cuff around his thigh gleamed brightly.

"I have a friend who works here," his master said casually as he tweaked the clamps.

Stefan bit his lip, and whimpered.

"One of the night receptionists. He'd like you, you know."

Stefan swallowed.

"When you're properly trained, we'll come back, and I'll let him use you. I owe him one for letting me book this room at half price."

A kiss was placed to Stefan's sternum, and two hot hands began to massage his breasts. The grip was hard and bruising.

"Or perhaps if you get too demanding, I'll let him come up here tonight."

A stranger. Oh, God, to be fucked by his master's friend? The very idea went straight to Stefan's already swollen cock, and he whimpered.

"You like that idea?"

"Y-Yes, Sir."

"You want that?"

"Ye "

The slap stung. Stefan swallowed, and raked in a deep breath.

"I'll behave, Sir. Whatever you want."

"Good."

Stefan was turned onto his front. The clamps caught on the sheets, and he whimpered, clutching at the cotton and beginning to shake. "Let's play a game."

A cold, dry finger breached his arse, and Stefan gasped. He felt dizzy. Blind. He felt out of his depth, chillingly lost, and yet so utterly safe all at once.