“No, Sir. Would you like some water for the scene?”
“Yes, please. Bring a few just in case, you won’t be able to get more later.” That was followed by a low laugh as Saul headed toward the staircase.
He shook his head and chuckled. Funny funny. Still, he grabbed four water bottles and took them upstairs, didn’t he?
“We both need a second to digest, why don’t you go wash up? Take your time, boy. Come back ready to work.” Saul headed for the duffel he’d brought up earlier.
Troy wandered to the bathroom and took a quick spit bath, then he spent a good few minutes stretching, finding his center, his strength.
He found Saul sitting on the bed when he returned, next to several lengths of neatly coiled rope. Next to those were four instruments: a flogger, a crop, a paddle and a tawse. Saul stood as he got closer.
“Ready? I remember your safe words as yellow and red. Yes?”
“Yes, Sir.” Not super imaginative, but easy to remember.
Saul nodded and moved out of his way. “I’m playing things by ear tonight, but I want to know if any of my impact toys are off limits tonight or in the near future. Have a look and let me know, please. Be honest. If you don’t know, that’s fine.”
“I’ve only ever felt a paddle and a crop.” In fact, he remembered a desperate night where Arnie had used the crop on his hole until he’d screamed.
“Oh, good to know. Thank you boy. Kneel right here.” Saul pointed to a specific spot on the floor facing the bed and then scooped up all the tools and put them into the toolbox, which sat open next to the dresser. “Ever tied bondage knots?”
“I’ve tied a lot of knots, Sir, for everything from livestock to Doms when they needed an extra pair of hands.”
“Okay.” Saul picked up a length of narrow, white nylon rope with a loop in one end. “Can you tie a locking cuff like this?”
“Yes, Sir.” Troy took the rope and wound it around his fingers four times before pulling through his cuffs and tightening the center.
“Nice work. I was thinking it would make great homework, but it looks like maybe you could teach me a thing or two as well. So.” Saul gestured toward the bed. “Up you go, lie flat on your stomach for now.” Saul set the thin rope aside and traded it for a thick black cotton bundle instead. “So you can do some of my prep for me next time, I love that.”
“Yes, Sir. You just let me know what all you need.” He did that for Master David quite a bit, when Dave and Trav were working long shifts and needed help.
He crawled up the center of the bed and settled onto his belly, the comforter soft and familiar.
“You’ve helped out other Doms? Where, at Carter’s place? Did you enjoy that?” Saul slipped a loop over his wrist, slid it up to the center of his bicep and tightened the loop until it was just snug against his skin.
“Yes, sometimes, and mostly. Everyone knows I was a roper and that I’m… that I was unattached, so they use me for set up every now and again.”
“That you were unattached, boy.” Saul’s voice seemed to drop a full octave and his Master’s tone was stern. “Whose sub are you now?”
“Yours, Master.” His answer was immediate, and he couldn’t have stopped his smile for love or money. It wasn’t funny, but God, it was amazing. Wondrous. A blessing.
“Mine.” The word was weighty and meaningful. Saul’s fingers worked slowly, purposefully, wrapping the rope around his bicep about five or six inches wide and adding another loop to secure it before beginning to do the same on the other side.
“Yes, Sir.” He breathed into the ropes like he breathed into his tension, accepting them, letting them hold him.
“How do the ropes feel? Good? Too tight? It should just feel solid not pinching.” Saul tied off his right bicep as well, leaving the end of both ropes loose alongside his body.
“They’re firm, but not tight-tight.” He stretched up taller, rolling his hips.
“Arms down by your sides, boy.” Saul climbed up over his back and sat squarely on his ass, then reached out and tugged on his shoulders, making him arch. “Hold that position. When you feel you can’t any longer, let me know.”
Saul reached for the ends of the ropes on either side and tugged his arms toward his spine, then began weaving.
He closed his eyes and inhaled, the pose familiar enough that he could hold it for a little while. In. Out. In. Out. In. “Master…” he warned.
“Good boy. I want another thirty seconds. Try for me.” He could feel Saul’s fingers moving faster.
He blew out a long breath, then sucked in another, beginning to count. His abs were trembling, and he fought the need to flop down.
He felt a sharp tug and then Saul shifted quickly around in front of him, hands tucking under him to support his chest. “Good boy, let go. I’ve got you.”
His Master held him in place when his muscles gave out, and lowered him slowly until the knots pulled taut and took his weight. His body wanted to fight, to struggle, but his mind was already fuzzy around the edges, the idea of releasing control amazing.
“Good boy. You’ll tell me right away if something hurts, or if something goes numb. Not a little tingly, actually numb.” Saul moved again, this time sitting to one side and taking hold of his hips. “Walk your knees up under you.”
“Y-yes, Sir.” He rocked back and forth between his shoulders, working his legs up where his Master wanted them.
“Oh, that’s lovely.” The sound of the smack startled him, but the strength and the sting to his upturned ass was what really got his attention.
He stiffened, his surprised gasp loud in his ears. As soon as he processed, he braced himself, in case his Master wanted to give him more.
Saul moved away though, sliding off the bed and returning with more rope and hardware, all of which were laid out where he could see them. Black rope, a pair of thick cuffs with two maybe three rings on each, and a spreader that looked about two feet wide. The cuffs went on first, and quickly.
“What does it mean to be mine, boy?” Saul reached for the spreader and encouraged him to open his knees wide.
The urge to try to figure out the right answer was huge, so he forced himself to answer immediately, honestly. “It means my pleasure and pain is yours. It means my focus is yours. My intentions. Submission. Needs.”
“Good boy. That’s all true.” Saul’s fingers slid up the inside of his thigh and tugged gently on his sac. “Your body is mine to restrain, to restrict, to make helpless, yes?” The cuffs were tight as Saul put them on his ankles, but they were loosened quickly so they felt more comfortable.
“Yes, Master. Yours.” His thighs trembled as they searched for a place to settle.
“Go ahead and move. Get comfortable. I’m going to rope your thighs next and tie you in place. Hopefully you can handle it for a short while.” Saul unwrapped the bundle of rope.
He would do his damnedest. He drew his knees up higher, stretching, and bent his head forward to open up his lower back.
“I like it.” His Master worked efficiently, wrapping one thigh much like his biceps, running the rope through the rings on his cuffs and then wrapping the other thigh. “Boy. You’re beautiful, exposed for me like this. At my mercy. Would you like to see?” Saul pulled a square mirror with a long handle from the toolbox and held it for him, angling it this way and that. The ropes bisected him, the black stripes shocking against his skin. He’d never seen himself like this—bound and held.