Kinked Up, page 21
Nav cursed under his breath as he noticed Sasha waiting for him on the couch, a scowl on his lips as he looked up from the blaring television. There were two beer cans sitting on the coffee table and two more on the ground. One had tipped over, a pool of beer leaking out of the can and onto the floor and probably seeping right through and into the underpadding.
“Where the fuck were you?” asked Sasha, thankfully turning the volume down. Nav caught sight of a few Formula One cars rounding a bend on the television, the whistling hum especially ear piercing after the calm of Trick’s apartment.
“Out. Why did you drink all my beer? You already had more than enough last night,” Nav shot right back at Sasha, leaning over to pick up the cans off the floor. The move made the fabric of his pants tighten over his ass, but he was still somewhat numb from the cream Trick had applied before he’d left. Something in his chest glowed as he thought of his Dom taking care of him.
“Don’t change the subject,” said Sasha. He looked Nav up and down, pausing on the track pants that Trick had given Nav. Nav imagined that they had probably belonged to Theo at one point because they fit him perfectly, but they were his now. “Those aren’t your pants.”
“No, they aren’t,” said Nav. “And I need you to get the fuck out so I can do some research. It’s gay research, so you wouldn’t be interested.” He slowly eased down onto the couch beside his friend before he pulled out his phone.
There had to be websites that listed common kinky limits for him, and he already knew a few that he would text to Trick.
“If it’s kinky gay research, then I’m sticking around,” said Sasha, leaning over to look down at Nav’s phone. “What the fuck is a violet wand?” His breath reeked of stale beer and nachos.
Do I even have nachos? Nav spied an empty chip and salsa container that had been tossed onto the ground. Not anymore.
“I have no idea,” said Nav. He clicked on the link, shrugging Sasha off before he could lean on him any harder. His ass could only handle so much extra weight. “Oh, interesting.”
“Tell me,” said Sasha, leaning right back in.
“Sasha, you are my best friend, but I will boot your ass out the door myself if you don’t fuck off,” said Nav, ignoring Sasha’s snort and eye roll. “I’m horny, and I need to focus on this. It’s important.”
“That sounds like too much work.” Sasha let out a sigh, flopping across the couch and squirming his feet into Nav’s lap. Sasha had definitely not had a shower. Good news for Nav’s loofa, but bad news for his health.
“Get out,” Nav hissed, pinching Sasha’s toe. Sometimes he wondered why he hung out with Sasha at all. He told himself that it was because looking at Sasha’s disaster of a life always made him feel better about himself. But then he remembered everything Sasha had done for him. Beneath his slob exterior, Sasha was a decent human being.
“Nah, I’m gonna watch this race. You do your thing and I’ll do mine, but I don’t want to see any dicks.” He cranked the volume back up, the sound of zooming car engines peaking. “By the way, you’re out of beer.”
“Fucking dick,” Nav hissed under his breath, bringing up the webpage again. There were a few kinks that he knew would be out right away, so he sent them off to Trick.
Doing research. Hard limits so far. Needles, bloodplay, bodily fluids and permanent scarring.
Nav sent the text, going back to the webpage again. There were a few he had to look up, but most were self-explanatory. Orgasm control—yes, please. Ball torture—thanks, but no thanks.
His heart raced as his phone pinged with a text from Trick.
I’m sorry that I violated one of your hard limits if that welt scars. Thank you for telling me, good boy.
Nav preened, a smile stretching over his lips and his chest warming instantly. He could almost hear Trick saying those words to him, his voice low and soft as he ran his fingers through Nav’s hair. Good boy. He loved being Trick’s slut, but being his good boy was even better. He sent a text back to Trick.
I don’t think I’d be into armpit worshipping because deodorant tastes terrible. I’ll call that one a soft limit. Age play, too, because I don’t know if I want to go there. Breath play makes me a bit nervous and inversion bondage sounds terrifying. Do people actually do that? I’d pass out.
A few seconds later Trick responded.
They do. We have a rope master at the club, and he’s probably one of the best in the country. If you ever wanted to try it, I would invite him to one of our scenes.
Nav’s heart pounded as he thought about doing another scene with Trick. Would it be the sensual terror of the alley, the beautiful torture that it had been with Derreck or the enveloping agony of Trick’s bedroom? As long as Trick was there for him after, the scene itself didn’t matter.
Some of this stuff sounds pretty interesting. Have you ever tried puppy play? It sounds fun and sweet.
Nav hit send, smiling as Trick responded right away.
Yes. It is sweet, and I would love the opportunity to be your owner. Are those all your limits, good boy?
Nav nodded to himself, reading the online list carefully again before he sent his reply.
Yes. If something comes up and I decide I don’t like it, can I change my mind?
Trick responded instantly.
Of course, that’s what your safewords are for. We will discuss our limits before each scene to make sure we are always on the same page. That is non-negotiable, along with condoms and lube from here on out. I’m not going to risk taking you dry again, baby.
Nav let out a sigh of relief. Getting fucked dry hurt like a bitch and it could be really dangerous. Getting a tear was just asking for an infection, and he did not want to have to explain that to a doctor. He glanced down at his phone as another text came through.
You got all your limits to me in fifty-eight minutes, good boy. You can have a reward now for good behavior. I want you to make yourself come. You aren’t allowed to use your hands or any toys, so you’ll have to hump something like the slut you are.
Nav swallowed, his mouth going dry. He’d had a semi since he’d grabbed his phone but instantly he was aching and leaking. Trick had kept him on the edge all day, and he knew it wouldn’t take him much to come.
Sasha’s still here.
Nav sent the text, looking up at his friend whose mouth was open wide as he stared at the screen. Nav doubted he would even notice a fly if it buzzed in there.
Go to your bedroom and close the door. You’ll have to stay quiet, slut.
Nav stood from the couch, making a quick excuse to Sasha, who didn’t even look up. He raced to the bedroom door, slowly closing it behind him before looking back at his phone.
Okay, I’m in the bedroom. Should I get on the bed?
He looked at the expanse of his messy sheets where Sasha had definitely slept the night before. Is that another bag of chips? He would have to sterilize the sheets before he touched them again. Sighing, he read Trick’s text.
Don’t be so vanilla, slut. You have a tall dresser—the one with the white knobs. Rub your cock against it like you’re a bitch in heat.
Nav flushed as he looked at the dresser. The wood was light and delicately carved with deep shadows that could never be replicated with anything but age. He’d had the dresser since he was young—one of the only things he’d managed to smuggle out of his parents’ house.
He pushed his parents from his mind. They were the last people he wanted to think about when he was trying to get off.
Lining himself up with the corner of the dresser, he braced his arms on either side to hold it and himself steady. The corner pressed a line across his cock, already uncomfortable. He gave an experimental thrust, wincing as he dragged his cock over the seam of the corner.
It hurts.
Nav sent the text off, his hands shaking as he kept moving his hips. Heat was building in his gut despite the uncomfortable edge. He had been too close for so long that it didn’t seem to matter.
Good thing you’re a pain slut.
He shuddered when he read Trick’s reply. He didn’t like pain—not really. He’d once cried over a papercut, although it had been from cardstock. He didn’t like stubbing his toe and even plucking his eyebrows made him curse.
But it was different with Trick.
Can I come?
He sent the message, begging through the phone while biting back his whimpers. The television was loud, but who knew what Sasha was up to.
No. Pull yourself off the dresser now.
Nav whined, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound as he pulled back. His cock throbbed from being denied again, his balls so heavy that he wasn’t sure that they’d ever been so full.
His phone stayed achingly silent for two long minutes before it finally buzzed again. Nav let out his breath in a rush, his skin thrumming.
Did you come?
Nav shook as he replied.
No, but I was so close. Please let me come. You promised, and I’ve been so good.
His phone was silent for another minute and Nav sank to his knees, the twinge of his ass pushing another drop of pre-cum from his cock. His borrowed pants were ruined and effectively claimed.
Good boy. Get your cock out and rub yourself against the rug.
Nav whimpered as he freed himself without touching his cock, dropping his pants to the floor. Trick had told him no hands, and Nav would follow that to the letter. Crawling to the rug he had at the side of the bed, he rested his cheek against it before slowly lying down. The rug was comfortable on his feet when he got up on a cold morning, but it was scratchy against the rest of him.
He gasped as he slowly hitched his hips, the dry carpet dragging against his cock and threatening to burn. At the slow rate, he wouldn’t be able to come, but any faster and he’d end up with rug burn on his cock.
It’s not enough.
Nav sent the text on the verge of tears. He was throbbing so badly, but he couldn’t get there—not like this. And any stain in the fibers would be there for life. There was no getting cum out of shag.
You can come whenever you want, slut, but only from grinding on that carpet. I want to see the stain the next time I’m in your bedroom, so I know how helpless and needy you are. You’ll fuck anything, just to get off.
Heat exploded at the base of his cock as he read Trick’s words, surging upward as his balls drew tight. He shuddered and went still as his orgasm washed over him, his sore cock jerking and painting the purple shag. He smothered his face into the carpet as he cried out, tangling his fingers in the fibers.
Did you come?
Trick had left the message at some point while Nav unraveled on the floor, humping his cum deeper into the carpet as he recovered and spreading the wet stain for Trick to find. Would Trick get hard just from seeing it? Would he force Nav to his knees in front of it and call him a slut as he plowed into him from behind? God, he hoped so.
Yes. Thank you, Trick.
His hands shook as he typed the reply before he grabbed the track pants, wiped the remnants of cum from his groin and tossed them into the laundry. Grabbing a fresh pair from his drawer, he pulled them over his aching ass.
Perfect boy. Go back to Sasha now. I’ll see you tonight.
Nav waited until his heart calmed before he stepped out of the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him. Sasha was staring at him from the couch with one raised eyebrow. Sniffing himself, Nav smirked. He reeked of sex, but it was better than Sasha’s beer and feet combo.
“What were you doing in there?” asked Sasha, lowering the volume on the television again.
“Fucking myself on the rug while I texted my Dom,” said Nav, refusing to be ashamed. He laughed at the blush that bloomed over Sasha’s face. Prude. “You still want to get into kink?”
“I think I’ll pass.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Trick
Trick looked away from his phone, his hand sticky with cum and his cock still throbbing. Nav’s face was fresh in his mind, his imagination filling in the gaps as he thought of Nav writhing on the floor of his bedroom, struggling to get release with his ass aching and his cock grinding against the rough carpet.
“Fuck.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t lasted an hour before he had Nav back on his knees again, and it was perfect.
Trick was rarely able to express himself outside of the club, and never in the way that he really needed.
Theo had tolerated it to an extent, letting Trick dote on him and even hand feed him sometimes. He had understood that Trick had needed it, not just in one place but as part of his entire life. But those occasions had been rare and saved for special dates.
His life had never been an extension of the club, the scene stretching and filling the missing gaps in his life until he was whole.
But Nav had gone willingly to his knees without question, taking food from his hand as if Trick had been feeding him chocolate and not little pieces of bacon. He hadn’t complained, hadn’t resisted and had been completely at peace, just as Trick had been.
It wasn’t something he could just turn off with Nav, but he owed Clint his honesty. He grabbed his phone from where he’d set it on the still-sticky table, clicking onto Clint’s contact and hitting the call button. He waited until the line connected before he began speaking.
“No toys and no impact play without supervision. I’m still going to put him on his knees as I see fit. You can’t stop me from doing that.” Trick paused, waiting for a response.
“Good afternoon to you as well, brat. The conversation went well, I presume,” said Clint, letting out a sigh and a groan.
“No. He didn’t want to talk limits, so I put him on his knees and made him listen instead,” said Trick, his spent cock twitching as he remember exactly what they had done.
Clint snorted. “Can’t imagine how you managed that. As long as it worked and he’s not hurt or bleeding.”
“I’m not a shitty Dom.” Trick swallowed. Maybe he was. Maybe that was the reason he had lost control. Maybe that was why Theo had left him.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” said Clint. “This boy has you on edge in a way I’ve never seen. He’s throwing himself into your path and giving you the reins. I need to know you can control yourself before you try to control him.”
“I’m in control.” Trick nodded to himself. He’d never felt more in control of himself. He would never hurt Nav again. He couldn’t bear the thought of it. “I’m coming to the club tonight with him so he can thank you properly for your help. If you’ll have us, of course.”
Clint grunted. “I’m getting too old for this shit. My kind of thank you or your kind?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, old man. He’s not sucking your cock. That mouth belongs to me,” said Trick, forcing down the growl that threatened to rise in his throat. He had shared Theo with other Doms, but not Nav—maybe for a non-sexual scene, but not for a fuck or a blow job. Now that Nav was his, he would never let him fuck another man unless Nav begged him prettily for something Trick couldn’t give him.
“Fine, brat, I agree to your terms. But remember, as soon as his ass is healed, I’ll be there to oversee your scenes. Don’t think I won’t enjoy myself.” Clint let out a breath.
“I was counting on it. I’ve always loved a good audience.” Trick smiled. He couldn’t wait for Nav to heal. He had so much to show him—and so many ways to take him apart.
He would be there to pick up the pieces next time. He was determined to be there for Nav, no matter what.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nav
A few weeks later
Nav grumbled as the bed shifted, pulling him from precious sleep. Thrusting out one arm, he searched for Trick’s heat between the covers. He’d fallen asleep alone and was unreasonably chilly with the air-conditioning humming away in the window.
Nav’s lips curled up as he struck Trick’s biceps, coiling his palm around it and squeezing. Trick—no. his boyfriend—spent less time at the gym than Nav had expected, and instead spent hours during the week configuring himself into yoga poses that made Nav instantly hard.
He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes open another moment to wait for Trick, though, not when his hours had doubled over the last few weeks, even though the gala had come and gone. Business had never been better, especially since a certain canvas had made its way back to the studio and people had flocked to it like buzzing flies to a carcass.
When he’d seen it displayed on the other side of his desk as he’d walked into the building, he had blanched. His new boyfriend and his boyfriend’s ex had stared at him from within their entwined fuckery, like they were guarding the entrance to a red room. He had glared at it, hatred seeping through his pores until the most embarrassing moment of his life had occurred.
A small girl had stepped into the studio a few minutes after he’d arrived, clutching her mother’s hand fiercely with her tiny fingers. In her other hand she’d held a lollipop that had looked like it was covered in a mixture of carpet fuzz and cat hair.
Nav had taken the mother’s name, sorting through a stack of invoices and pointedly keeping his gaze on the desk, before a tiny voice had called out.
“Is that you?” the little girl asked as she stared between the painting and him. Her candy had fallen to the floor as her tiny, curious eyes had gone wide.
