Page 75 of Out of Control

“You’re gonna sing for me, Spence. You’re gonna beg, and you’re gonna shout, and you’re gonna cry before I’m done with you.”

A shiver passed down his spine. Drago was not a man who made empty promises—or empty threats. And he wasn’t doing either now.

Drago slammed his mouth down on Spencer’s penis, raking his teeth down its sensitive length until Spencer winced, then withdrew slowly, slurping and licking sensuously back up the shaft until Spencer groaned with pleasure. Again and again, Drago alternated between pain and pleasure until his cock was so sensitive that even Drago’s hot breath upon it was enough to make him moan.

“Don’t move,” Drago ordered. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Spencer sprawled on the bed, leaning back against the cold concrete wall, naked from the waist down, his erection flushed, wet and wanting, pulsing of its own volition, unable to be still as it jerked in eager anticipation of what came next. He heard Drago fishing around in the plastic grocery bags.

Drago stood up with a handful of stuff Spencer couldn’t make out. “Do you trust me?” he growled.

“In my mind. Maybe not in my body,” Spencer answered, rather more anxiously than he wanted to.

“Give me a safeword,” Drago ordered.

“Am I going to need one?”

“You are today.”

“Uhh, Mandolib.”

“Done. You’re mine, Spencer. You’re going to do whatever I want, or I’m going to handcuff you and do what I want to you anyway. Got it?”

A ripple of pleasure spasmed all the way down his spine, terminating in his balls, which tightened and threatened to explode at the mere thought of being at Drago’s mercy.

He nodded.

“Say ‘yes, sir.’ Out loud.”

“Yes, sir,” he blurted.

Drago’s eyes were black upon black. Spencer had never seen them so intense. Drago pulled something out of the jumble in his fist and stepped forward. Quickly he rolled some sort of ring made of rubber tubing all the way down to the base of Spencer’s cock. It was tight. Very tight. Not quite painful, but Spencer suddenly suspected it was going to get a whole lot more uncomfortable soon.

“That will restrict the blood flow to your cock, which will slow down your orgasm. You won’t come until I say you can. Understood?”

Oh Christ. “Uhh-huh.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir,” he gasped. He had never been this turned-on in his entire life. He’d never been this vulnerable, this controlled by another man, either.

Drago leaned down and gave his dick a long, leisurely suck, and the true torture of that little cock ring became obvious. The beginnings of an orgasm started to clench in his balls, but the ring tightened against the swelling, surging sensation until the discomfort was just sharp enough to stop his body from exploding.

He groaned at the welling pleasure and groaned again at the cessation of it.

“Exactly,” Drago murmured, watching Spencer’s dick jump and jerk. “Take off the rest of your clothes,” he said calmly.

An urge to fight, to refuse, came over Spencer, to test what Drago would do to him.

“Don’t even think about it,” Drago warned.

Damn. The guy knew him too well. Spencer leaned forward awkwardly over his monstrous erection and stripped his polo shirt over his head.

“Stand up.” Drago led him by the dick over to the table and then ordered, “Face down.”

It was a sturdy old table, and Spencer’s torso stretched all the way across it, his face planted on its smooth, cool surface. He was never going to smell lemon furniture oil again without thinking of this moment. His rectal muscles tightened and released spasmodically as the vulnerability of his position registered on his body and mind.

Drago stroked his asscheek lightly. “God, I’ve missed this ass. But I’m going to make up for time today.”

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