Naughty November

Chapter 3

THREE

ALEC

As I pulled up to Gene’s house, a moment of panic struck me. Not enough to make me turn around and abandon the whole idea of giving myself to him, but enough for me to take notice. I’d been living with regret long enough. I wasn’t about to squander my chance of being with the man I thought I’d lost forever.

I turned into the driveway of his mid-century ranch house in the quiet Lexington neighborhood. His career had afforded him the ability to live in the Manor section of town, and I’d been impressed the first time I went to his meticulously kept home. Something about how careful he was with his living space gave me a sense of security. I realized I could’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable with Gene all along.

He’d made it clear I was to park on the property, not the street. The thrill of that small act of protectiveness was as strong as it had been the first time he’d issued the command. I’d inherently known he would take care of me, that his identification as a Dom wasn’t only a title. He meant it in the best sense of the word.

Gene wouldn’t merely tell me I had his full attention and was concerned for my safety, my happiness, my wellbeing. He would follow through. What he said to me the night before gave voice to what I’d always known—even if I hadn’t been willing to admit it to myself until now.

I was Gene’s. I belonged to him, and he took care of what was his.

After parking and doing a quick assessment of my hair in the rearview mirror, I stepped from my sedan. Right as I was about to close the door, I eyed my overnight bag. Gene hadn’t invited me to stay the night. Not yet. I’d spent the night in his arms once, which precipitated my abandoning him. He knew it, and I knew it. I suspected he wasn’t interested in a repeat performance.

He was probably trying to move extra slowly, which pained me. I was ready to take off at high speed now that I’d been wallowing in my own self-pity and regret for so long, but he was the Master. If nothing else, I deserved the punishment of having to wait.

With a sigh, I shut the car door then made my way up the flagstone walkway to the house. I raised my hand to knock, but before I could, Gene opened the door. My jaw went slack at the sight of him. It was one thing to see him wearing a designer suit, elegant and sophisticated, the ultimate in refined elegance. And when he rocked the full leather gear at the club, he was magnificent. But this look was my new favorite.

Gene stood before me in a shiny, skin-tight spandex silver tank top tucked into a pair of slim, black jeans with the touch of a shimmer. Not that I wasn’t aware of how nicely built he was already. I’d lain in his arms, been held by him. But seeing him on display like this with nothing left to the imagination made my knees wobble a bit.

Gene smiled, opening the door wider before stepping aside and gesturing for me to enter. Awkwardness swept over me, making me hesitate. Was it too soon for a kiss? It must be. Why else was he waving me inside instead of gathering me in his arms?

I turned as Gene shut the door behind me, and our eyes met. Neither of us spoke, and my discomfort grew. We’d left things on a casual note after agreeing to meet, but Gene’s insistence that I go home to get some rest had brought a swift conclusion to our reunion.

Gene took a small step toward me, and before I had the chance to think it through, I reached for him, no longer afraid. His touch that I’d been aching for had to be fulfilled, the need more overpowering than my hesitation. Gene held me in silence as he rested his head on mine, and I pressed my face to his solid chest. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on as if he might float away.

“I’ve missed you,” I said, my voice muffled. “I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid.”

Gene squeezed me, then let go, but gathered my hands in his. “I think we need to take a moment and go through protocol and safewords again. Now that I know you haven’t been at the club since our last time together, I almost feel as if you’re starting over. Which means I won’t ding you for talking badly about yourself.” He winked. “I’m guessing you forgot that rule.”

A lump formed in my throat as the memory of our previous dynamic came rushing back. I had forgotten. I’d been so caught up in the misery of missing him I’d neglected to consider how much of a comfort the rules were and that I missed them, too.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak in case my voice cracked, or even worse, I said something ridiculous.

Gene wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Everything is fine. In case you forgot this as well, your safeword is always valid no matter when you use it.”

I nodded again, but some of the other rules jumped into my head, mainly the one about using my words.

“Thank you,” I managed to squeeze out. “You’re right. I think I need a minute to get grounded.”

He brushed his lips over my temple, the moment so brief it was over before I could lean into the connection. Gene directed me to the cushy suede sofa in the spacious living area. The picture window at the far end offered a view overlooking an expansive lawn and manicured garden along the back fence. I idly wondered what it might be like to relax with him outside in the summer, lounging in the outdoor chairs, cold drinks in our hands as we discussed how our day went.

I pressed my lips together, mentally chastising myself at the errant thought. No promises had been made, and neither of us had expectations. But dammit, I was ready for them.

The plush fabric of the couch enveloped me as I sank into it. To my surprise, Gene didn’t join me. As he pulled his hand away, I grasped it tighter.

“Where are you going?”

I suddenly felt too needy, too clingy. Gene smiled down at me.

“Did you have breakfast before you came here like I instructed?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Then I don’t need to feed you before we begin. But I do want to grab a glass of orange juice for us both.”

“Okay.”

I released his hand, reminding myself again of the protocol. Stay hydrated, sugars up. Everything Gene asked me to do had a purpose.

When he returned with our drinks, he handed me one wordlessly before sitting beside me, maintaining a respectful distance. We remained in silence, the dynamic soothing rather than awkward. Gene had created a quiet space for me to find my footing. His gaze didn’t demand anything from me, only offered comfort. This was what I loved about him, how he was always in control but in the most nurturing way possible.

I swallowed hard. I’d never make it through the next five minutes—let alone the night—if I allowed myself to think of love.

When I finally found my voice again, the words tumbled out of me in a rush. “I need you to know how glad I am to be here. I’m not doubting our connection anymore. I’m ready, Sir. Not only for what we do in a scene, but everything.” I sucked in a deep breath before continuing, “The club, out in public—even with our families—I’m not going to hide. I won’t run again.”

Gene cupped my cheek. “You’re my brave boy. But I’m not pressuring you. Everything will happen in its own time, okay?”

I leaned into his palm, closing my eyes, focusing on the warmth where our skin touched. After a few moments passed, he gently pulled me into his embrace. Before I could lose myself in the rhythm of his heartbeat, he whispered, "Are you ready to review the rules, go over your limits?"

"Yes, Sir," I choked out, my nerves threatening to get the better of me again.

“Here,” he said as he handed me a glass. “Take sips of this while we talk.” He locked eyes with me. “I know you’re anxious, so I need you to focus. We stop if I decide this is too much for you right now.”

My stomach tightened. “Would I have to leave?”

Gene wrapped his fingers around my nape. “Not unless you wanted to. If all that happens today is us spending time together reconnecting, then I’ll be a happy man. Remember, no pressure.”

As if Gene’s words had broken the spell crippling me with anxiety, a wave of calm washed over me.

“Thanks. That helps.” I rubbed my palms on the tops of my jeans. “Even if I’m nervous, I’m excited about what we’re doing today. But more importantly, I’m glad to be here with you.” I let out a small laugh, my emotions all over the place. “Going to Marc’s reception last night is one of the smartest things I’ve done in a while.”

A grin spread across Gene’s face. “Same here.” He took a healthy swallow of his own juice then set the glass down on the coffee table. “Let’s begin.”

He started with my safewords first. I’ve always used the colors because it’s what I got used to. Then, one by one, he reviewed the rules and limits we’d originally negotiated for our contract, the memory of that evening filling every corner of my mind and gripping my heart. As he spoke, the world seemed to fade away until it was only his voice filling the silence, reminding me of everything we had once shared. Being back with Gene was as comforting and terrifying as it had ever been.

Gene set down our contract. “Do we need to change anything?”

“No. Sounds great.”

He chuckled. “You seem quite sure of yourself.”

I ducked my head. Even though barely ten years separated us in age, at times, I felt like a kid around him. However, he didn’t talk down to me. It was more that he had such a commanding presence. I don’t know how anyone could resist handing over all their control to him.

I lifted my eyes. “I know what I want.”

His pupils widened, and I noted the slight elevation in his breathing. “Good. Let’s get started.”

He rose, offering me his hand. I fought to keep myself from falling into the never-ending trap of regret. I made a vow to myself that I would treat everything for the rest of the night as if it were happening for the first time. Our first scene. First contract. First kiss. And, of course, the first time he would be using the sounds on me.

We made our way to the playroom, holding hands with our fingers entwined. Gene had finished off his basement so it could be used as a dungeon, and the access was off the laundry room next to the kitchen. After we reached the bottom of the steps, Gene let go of my hand to retrieve a key from his pocket.

He glanced at me sideways. “I have a cleaner who comes in twice a week.”

I chuckled, nodding. “Good call.”

Once he unlocked the door, he entered the room and flipped a switch on the wall. Several small, recessed lights positioned throughout the room came on, casting a warm glow. I squinted my eyes as I became adjusted to the lower light. Nothing had changed from what I could tell. The spanking bench to the right, the cross in the center on a cushioned floor pad, chains hanging overhead. A cabinet behind the apparatus that I knew contained all of Gene’s implements and toys.

I turned to the left and froze. It seemed as if something was different after all. Although I should’ve been expecting it since I’d watched the sounding demonstration, and they’d used a chair like the one in Gene’s dungeon, I didn’t remember seeing it the one time we’d used his dungeon instead of going to the club.

Gene gestured to the medical chair. “Before I ask you to strip, I’d like you to come closer and take a look. Examine it if you’d like, climb in, adjust the footrests and stirrups. Whatever you like.”

I took him up on his offer, approaching the chair as if it might bite me. I reminded myself that I was the one who’d asked for this. Careful what you wish for… I ran my hands over the black vinyl-covered padding. Being in a doctor’s office had never felt sexy to me. I’d never fantasized about the hot doctor having his way with me in the office, and sitting on crinkly paper didn’t do a thing for me either.

But my naked ass against the cool plastic fabric, my body heat eventually warming up the covering until sweat pooled where skin and vinyl met, my feet in the stirrups, knees forced apart, Gene penetrating a part of me I never imagined I’d ask to be violated…

I swiped the back of my hand over my mouth, the sound of my throat clearing like a shout in the large, open room. Next to the chair was a steel tray on a rolling stand with several items already laid out on the towel covering the surface. I noted some sterile lube packets, a pair of latex gloves, alcohol wipes, and a long rectangular red case. Under other circumstances, I would’ve guessed it was meant to contain a small musical instrument, perhaps a piccolo. But I knew better.

“Are we still green?”

I covered his hand with my own. “Yes, Sir. I want this.”

He pressed his lips to my knuckles then stepped away.

“Strip. Do it slowly—show me how much you ache to please me.”

My lips parted, and I inhaled a deep breath as I stepped closer to the precipice. In my mind, the kink was on one side, being intimate with a man on the other. If I took the leap, then maybe those two things could be one. I no longer wanted any separation to exist between us, no second guessing whether I was ready for a complete relationship with him.

Knowing we'd be at his home, I’d chosen something simple to wear. A forest green button-down shirt tucked into dark jeans, black boxer briefs, and a tank. I toed off my Vans, then before I could freak myself out by obsessing over whether I’d made the correct wardrobe choice, I took the easy path and began my show by undoing the cuffs.

Gene stood before me with his hands folded in front of him, a slight smile tugging at his lips as if he knew my hidden agenda. It couldn’t be helped, though. I’d never been an extrovert, the life of the party, the guy who shined at a dance club with my killer moves on the floor. I imagined I looked like a cardboard cutout man that had miraculously developed the ability to move.

My hands trembled, so I focused on keeping the pace languid as I reached for the first button at the top of my shirt. Master Gene's gaze traveled the length of my frame, and I imagined him taking in every twitch of muscle, exhaled breath, and every new inch of exposed skin. With each button I undid, a sense of liberation washed over me. Pleasing my Sir was all that mattered.

Pulling the shirt slowly open, I slipped one side off my shoulder then the other, finally revealing my chest. The air touching my now bare skin tightened the nipples on my chest into tight buds. My body wasn’t sculpted by gym hours or the natural gift of genetics. However, it was mine, and Gene’s wide smile radiating back at me boosted my confidence.

"Continue," he encouraged, his voice resonating deep in his chest.

I unbuckled the belt with shaky hands that seemed to have forgotten their basic function. The leather slipped out of the loops easily with a soft swishing sound, adding to the growing tension in the room. I dropped the belt next to my shirt, knowing I couldn’t put off the rest any longer. No matter how slowly Gene wanted me to strip, he wouldn’t wait forever. After unzipping my jeans, I started pushing them down, but Gene held up his hand, palm out.

“Wait. Turn around.”

I sucked in a sharp breath but immediately obeyed. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess why he’d made such a request.

“Very good,” he said softly. “Hook your thumbs in the loops, then as you slide your pants down, move as slowly as you can. Keep your legs straight.”

A shiver ran through me at his command. Obedience was its own form of arousal, and no one knew that better than Master Gene. I glanced over my shoulder, catching his eye for a moment before continuing. I slid my jeans over the curve of my ass then down my thighs.

I reached the point where I had no choice but to bend over, the knit fabric of my briefs stretching across my backside. I wasn’t as exposed as I could be, though. I wasn’t naked, but I was hard. Once I turned around, the clingy underwear would reveal all my secrets.

“Don’t move,” Gene whispered.

I froze, wondering how graceful I could possibly be struggling out of the bootcut jeans, when Gene’s steadying hand landed on my lower back, his other clasping my shoulder.

“Let me help you straighten up. ”

Gene helped me rise, and a rush of blood whooshed to my head.

“Steady,” he said. “Stay still for a moment while you get your balance.”

It wasn’t as if I’d never bent over then risen on my own before. However, between my nerves and remaining with my head down for a while—it definitely made me dizzy. I chuckled to myself, but it was quickly replaced with a stab to my heart.

Once again, I was irrationally jealous that Gene had catered to other men, had kept them safe and sound, his every thought tuned in to their comfort. Gene’s sexual history didn’t phase me. But this? I could only hope he might someday feel that possessive of me.

The warmth of Gene’s hand on my chest brought me back to the present. He placed a soft kiss on my cheek, and my heart skittered.

Gene smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I enjoyed that quite a bit, sweetheart. Thank you.”

I almost opened my mouth to ask why he wasn’t calling me ‘boy’ like before, but I didn’t want him to stop using the endearment. I decided his word choice boded well for our future.

“I’ve never done anything like that, so I was a bit nervous.”

“You did wonderfully.” He tapped the back of my thigh. “Come on, let’s get the jeans off.”

I did as I was told, curious as to why he hadn’t made me strip all the way. He kept an arm around my waist while I stepped out of the pants. All that remained was my underwear and socks.

Gene ran his hands in slow circles over my chest. “Before I lead you to the chair, I want to reiterate that you can use your safeword for anything—not only the sounds or the mask.”

I drew my eyebrows together. “Of course. Are you worried I might run again?”

Okay, I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but I was glad I did. Despite my reassurances I wouldn’t abandon him again, that was while we were sitting down and having a mature conversation. Not when I was half-naked and hard in his dungeon.

Gene waited for a beat before answering. “If I’m being completely honest, I have to say yes. But it didn’t cross my mind until I noticed how aroused you are.” He let out a small sigh. “My only concern regarding us is how much physical intimacy you’re ready for. It’s fine if you don’t want to do any more than we did before, or if you want to wait on all sexual contact for now.”

All we’d ever shared physically was him jacking me off after a scene when I’d been a good boy or ordering me to suck his cock. That particular act had only happened once, but it was what changed something inside me. Once I craved a repeat performance to the point where I couldn’t stop thinking about his hot, hard flesh in my mouth, was when I told him I wanted more.

“I know.” I nodded. “I get it. And I’ll use my safeword if I need to stop anything we’re doing.” I bit my bottom lip, not sure how far I could push him. But sometimes actions spoke louder than words, as they say. I grasped his wrist, then placed his hand over my erection. “When I said I want everything with you, I meant everything .”

I let out a gasp as Gene grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. He crushed our lips together, shoving his tongue into my mouth, kissing me with an aggression I’d never experienced, each swipe deepening the connection. God, how I’d longed for this. I’d fantasized that once I gave him the okay, his kisses would be like a brand, an explicit claim I belonged only to him.

He broke the kiss, and I sucked in a gulp of air. His fingers that were still tangled in my hair loosened, and he gently brushed his lips back and forth over my swollen ones. I sighed, relaxing into his hold. A part of me wished he would skip the sounding and go straight to the fucking.

Gene considered me, staring into my eyes as if contemplating his next move. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was.

“Come on.” He patted my ass. “Get the rest of your clothes off then climb on the chair.”

My woody quickly diminished. This was it. Showtime.

I shucked off my briefs and yanked off my socks, adding the items to my pile of strip tease clothes. I made my way to the imposing chair with thick straps hanging off the side. I swallowed with no spit. I suppose it made sense that he’d want to keep me still. I cleared my throat as I climbed onto the cool vinyl, wiggling my butt to get comfortable on the semi-reclined piece of furniture. I tried very hard to remember every moment of the demo I’d seen, but my brain had gone fuzzy.

I closed my eyes as I settled on the smooth surface. But that was what having a Master dominate me was all about. I didn’t have to remember. I didn’t have to do a damn thing other than let him take control.

The clatter of the metal cart rolling met my ears, and my eyes flew open. Gene gazed down at me with a smile then placed a reassuring hand on my abdomen. He had an air of authority about him and could be stern, but in many ways, he was a big softie. His demeanor was what originally inspired me to stop seeing my Dommes. Through him, I realized I needed more care and less severity.

Gene placed a padded, black satin mask edged in tiny silver studs over my eyes. “Since this is our first scene together in a while, and because both kinks are completely new to you, I’ll be talking you through everything.”

“Good plan.”

My voice cracked on the last word, which only reinforced why his decision was a wise one.

He brushed back some stray hairs from my forehead. “Before I strap you in and put on the mask, I want to show you the sounds. Specifically, the one I’ll be using on you.” He clicked open the lid of the red case, lifting the lid to reveal an array of metal rods in various thicknesses and lengths. Each one was topped with a silver ball. At the end of the graduating row in the bottom of the box, were compartments for what I recognized as penis plugs. At this point, my brain had shorted out, and I couldn’t respond. I hoped like hell he wouldn’t ask my opinion about the scary medical instruments.

I tensed when he pointed to the third rod from the smallest in the case. I tried not to dwell on the fact that they all seemed rather long, too. I reminded myself that Gene knew what he was doing, and he’d promised to talk me through everything.

“I’m going to start with this one. It measures six millimeters. Most male urethras are between six and eight millimeters in diameter, so it should be fine. But I’ll be going slow.”

My mouth was like a desert, and I held onto the chair arms with a death grip. Gene leaned over me to grab the strap on the other side of the chair. He secured it at my waist, then proceeded to position me the way he wanted. He continued to restrain me, buckling more straps across my shoulders, chest, and limbs. He lifted my feet by my ankles and fitted them in the stirrups before opening them wider.

Being exposed and at Gene’s mercy like this was bringing my flagging erection back to life. One important piece of info I did remember from the sounding demo was that being fully hard might make it difficult for Gene to get the sound inside me. Something about my tip being too sensitive or the opening being too tight. I doubted I could make my dick behave itself, so that would be another quandary to let Gene handle.

I snorted to myself. I had no problem with Gene handling anything of mine he wished.

Once he finished restraining me, Gene fitted the mask over my eyes. He fussed with the elastic at the back of my head, positioning the covering to his seeming satisfaction.

“Comfortable?”

“Yeah. It’s nice, actually.”

“Tell me about it.” Gene petted my head, gentle touches that eased me.

“I wasn’t expecting the padding. It’s…like a cloud. Soft and soothing.” I laughed shakily. “That probably seems ridiculous. I’m not sure I’m explaining it very well.”

“You’re doing an excellent job.”

Now that I’d seen the sound meant for me and the mask was on, I was more convinced than ever I’d made the right call. Nothing about a metal rod going into my dick was something I wished to see.

I tensed at the sound of shuffling noises from the tray. Wait. Wasn’t he supposed to do something to get me ready before he started sticking a foreign object into me? Maybe the mask was a bad idea after all. I heard a small tear, and the powerful scent of alcohol made me wrinkle my nose. Gene placed the cold pad on the end of my dick, and I jerked in my restraints. The issue of me getting too hard was instantly solved.

“I’ve sterilized the rods already, and everything else I’m using is in sterile packaging. Should you ever break the rules by touching yourself for pleasure, be damn sure you’re being safe.”

He had to be joking. “No worries, Sir. There’s not a chance I’ll be doing this to myself.”

Gene chuckled. “Never say never. A lot of men find this extremely pleasurable.”

“The guy in the demonstration seemed to be having a good time.”

I’d never heard anyone yell so loud.

More tearing noises could be heard, and I pictured Gene grinning as he prepared to torment me some more. He wrapped his gloved fingers around my now soft dick, stroking my cock in long, leisurely pulls. His hand was slippery, and the lack of a pungent odor told me he‘d moved on to the lube packets. After every few tugs, he’d brush his thumb over my slit, almost as if he was getting me used to the idea of my opening being stimulated.

Gene stopped stroking me before I got fully hard, and the damn mask left me to my imagination. This had to be it, the moment I’d fully thought I was waiting for. I licked my lips, my breathing picking up a more rapid pace. Red. Red. Red . The word echoed in my mind. Or yellow. Yellow would work.

I sighed with a gasp as the tip of my cock was pinched lightly, followed by the odd sensation of something being worked into my slit.

“I’m getting your opening ready to take the sound. Nothing will be forced. If your urethra is able to accept the rod, gravity should ease the process along.”

His words gave me pause. Even if I’d had the concept of sounding explained to me several times, done my good old internet research, and grasped the concept in general—I still hadn’t banished the fear that something was being forcibly shoved inside me.

I hissed as Gene continued to work my slit, manipulating the opening and adding more cool lube that warmed almost immediately on contact. A slight burn built, but nothing horribly unpleasant. If that was as intense as it got, I’d be fine.

I gasped again, my whole body going rigid as the blunt end of the steel rod breached my slit. I could barely move because of the restrictive straps, I was surrounded by darkness, and the sensation my dick was being ripped open made me want to scream. Instead, I gritted my teeth and thrashed my head from side to side.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Are we still green?”

Was I? Fuck. I’d gone this far. Why not push past the crappy part and get to the good stuff?

“Green.”

Gene pressed his lips to my forehead, his warm breath wafting over my skin. “I’m very proud of you, Alec. Your cock is taking the sound easily, so I think you’re going to really enjoy what comes next.”

As long as there was plenty of coming, I was on board.

But my attention was one hundred percent captivated by the way Gene was using the rod on me. With every glide of the sound, it probed deeper into my dick, the burning intensifying with each gentle move. I curled my toes and gripped the chair arm until I thought my joints would crack.

Before I had a chance to ask if I should be concerned, the sound slid all the way inside of me. It had to be as far as it could go because I felt the ball at the top of the rod bumping against my cockhead. And the sensation in my dick was huge. Gigantic.

“Is it…?” I cleared my throat and reminded myself to breathe. “Completely in?”

“You took it well.” Gene lightly tapped the top of the rod, a slight vibration skittering through me. The darkness surrounding me was doing its job. The anticipation of his next move, my attention held captive by whatever he chose to do to me, gave me a thrill I’d never known existed. “Are you ready to come harder than you ever had?”

Was that a serious question? “Yes, Sir. More ready than you know.”

He began slowly, barely moving the piece of steel in my cock. I’d always been aware of Gene’s cautious handling of me. My assumption had always been it was due to my questioning, vanilla ass. But now, there seemed to be more to his actions than my inexperience. He treated me with such care because I mattered to him.

Tears stung my eyes. All of me. I would give all of myself to this man who’d stolen my heart.

“Talk to me, Alec. Are we still green?”

My lips parted to speak, but all I could manage was a low moan. What the hell was that? The burn was fading to the background as an ache built in my core. This wasn’t bad, not even close. The smooth slide, the decadence of the act, the parts of me being stimulated that had never been explored—yeah. I’d be asking for this again.

Gene stilled, and I wanted to yell at him to keep going. “Alec. You haven’t answered my question.”

“Yes,” I choked out. “I mean, green. Definitely green.”

“Then get ready for more.”

I curled my toes again. ‘More’ sounded amazing.

He picked up the pace of fucking my cock. In and out, in and out . He never pushed the rod further down—I’m sure that wasn’t a good idea from a safety standpoint. But sometimes, he’d twirl it inside me, not by much, but when he did, the sensation was like being stretched.

Gene paused, and I held my breath. He wasn’t stopping, was he? Not when I was riding a gradually swelling wave, building to an explosive orgasm like I’d seen the guy at the demo experience.

But he wasn’t done with me yet. Gene quested between my cheeks with slick fingers, reaching my hole, a part of me he’d never touched. I tried to scoot down but could barely move.

“Patience, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want.”

He circled what felt like his thumb over my rim, bringing my nerves to life. While increasing the pressure on my tight hole, he began fucking me with the rod again. The dual sensations were going to drive me mad. Not being able to move, to participate in bringing me closer to the precipice was almost more than I could handle.

Gene’s thumb popped into my ass. After circling it inside me a few times, he removed it before replacing the digit with his finger. I’d been pegged by one of the Dommes before, so the feeling wasn’t entirely new, although it had been a while. But with both my cock and ass being fucked at the same time, I’d never felt so completely used in the most incredible of ways.

“Oh, fuck .”

Gene’s finger skated over my gland, and a jolt of pleasure shot through me. My balls tightened as the wave grew, my climax right on the horizon. But right as I reached the peak, the feeling ebbed. I gritted my teeth in frustration as I realized the sound was preventing me from ejaculating.

The need to come didn’t pass. Instead, it became a cement wall I couldn’t break through, agonizing, unrelenting pressure.

“Please…” I whispered.

“I know, baby,” Gene whispered back. “Hold on a minute longer.”

A minute? I wouldn’t survive—it wasn’t possible. The pressure increased, the need so excruciating that tears leaked from my eyes.

Gene pulled out the rod right as he pressed on my gland, and my body jerked within the restraints. I yelled curses over and over as I came so hard I was dizzy with it. What was typically a moment of euphoria and a few pulses of cum became an explosion of ecstasy. As ridiculous as I knew it was, it felt as if I might never stop coming.

It wasn’t until I’d collapsed against the sweat-slickened chair, gasping for air as more sweat trailed down my body, that I realized Gene had completely removed his finger and the rod. All that remained was a slight burn in my cock, and an emptiness in my ass. This wasn’t it, was it? I still needed him inside me.

The mask was removed, and I blinked several times. After he'd covered my eyes, I’d been vaguely aware of a bright light being turned on. The exam lamp shining a spotlight on me was shoved to the side and replaced with Gene’s smiling face hovering over me.

“God, you were so beautiful. How do you feel?”

I doubted I could find the right words for what a spectacular experience he’d given me, but I also wanted to reassure him that I was glad we’d done it.

“Bliss. Like I could float away.”

When he captured my lips in a deep kiss, swiping his tongue through my mouth with languid caresses—I knew he understood. Gene understood everything.