Sex in C Major
Chapter 47

"So how are you teaching it not to masturbate?"

"Teaching it that it can't."

"How?"

Fingers were probing around his cunt, and Stefan whimpered.

"Playing porn. Fucking it regularly. Touching it until it's rutting the table. Can't come, though."

"Mm."

"Needs to learn it doesn't deserve to get off every time its master does."

"True, I suppose."

"Why don't you fuck it?"

Stefan blinked behind the blindfold.

"Me?"

"Yeah. Feels good around you. Nice and tight. Surprisingly."

"Very, given how you like to break your toys in. I'll pass. Fuck it for me."

A head began to push inside. The stretch no longer burned, but it was the third time, and it hurt and ached. Stefan tried to relax, but the lube on the toy that kept being used was drying, and it caught. It hurt.

"It's noisy."

"It's always noisy."

Stefan whimpered breathlessly as the fake cock began to fuck him. Single fingers were the only skin-to-skin contact he'd had since being locked down, and he wanted more.

"I think it wants your real dick."

"It has to earn that."

"You haven't done it yet?"

"No."

"Then how do you know it feels good around your cock?"

"Logically, it must. Feels good around my fingers."

Someone laughed. Stefan sagged in the chains and closed his eyes again, feeling his body jerking with the rhythm of the fuck. He was exhausted. His dick burned-he twitched violently and writhed when a finger stroked up the underside of it and then disappeared again but he was never allowed release.

"How long are you going to punish it?"

"Until I need to sleep. Unless you want to take over?"

There was a pause.

A dizzying, terrifying, awful pause. A pause in which Stefan's heart hammered against the rug and coffee table below him. For Yannis to take over? For this torture to be prolonged? For-

"No."

Stefan breathed.

Then the finger returned, and he writhed.

****

The ball gag was ripped out without warning.

Stefan coughed, then flinched when the blindfold was torn away, too.

"Up."

It-it wasn't his master. It was Yannis.

"What?"

"Up!"

The spreader was jerked free from his knees. The padlock at his back was snapped open. The chains crumpled and slithered down his skin. He was slick with sweat, and a little blood from where the metal had cut into him.

"Now!"

His hair was pulled, and Stefan stumbled blindly. He fell. His legs erupted in pain. Pins and needles danced around his feet, and he staggered drunkenly into the sofa.

Only for another pair of hands to seize him by the hips, and turn him.

He was shoved over the arm of the sofa, his master's grip heavy and familiar. Stefan clung to the leather, dizzy and blinded by disorientation. He'd never heard them coming. And he had been so still for so long-

He whimpered as the plug was twisted into his arse, like a screw into a wall. He buried his face into the sofa and sobbed when the second was near-massaged into his aching cunt. And then metal slithered around his belly, cold and cruel.

"Please Master, please..."

"I found it specially for you."

The belt was thin around his stomach. A cold wire snaked down between his arse-cheeks, and something clicked under his dick.

Then tightened.

Stefan moaned as the metal guard pressed into his cock, covering it like a cup. He gulped in a desperate lungful of air as his master's fingers traced the wire back, and realised the horror of it. His dick was trapped. Untouchable. Unreachable.

But his arse and cunt could be reached simply by shifting the wire to one side. He was accessible, but only for use. Only to service. There would be no reward until-unless-the belt was removed.

"Oh God, please..."

"If you can't touch yourself," his master said flatly, "then you'll get out of the habit of doing so."

"Please"

"Please what?"

"I need I need-"

"You need to learn your lesson. You have rules now. And if you break them, you get punished."

Stefan sobbed, fisting his hands into the leather as he felt a hard, hot dick beginning to rub along the thin chain spreading his cheeks. As he felt something slick and warm beginning to be smeared into his skin.

As his master began to fuck him, without fucking him.

And then he wrenched in a lungful of air, and submitted.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I need to be punished."

"That's more like it."

"I'm yours, Sir. And and I should only have the pleasure you give me, Sir."

Hands gripped his arse. Squeezing. Bruising. It sent spikes of hot arousal to his cock, but Stefan fought to ignore it. The cup rubbed where it lay, but couldn't touch him. Wouldn't touch him.