Catamite Pt. 11

He looked down to undo the buttons on his vest, and loosen his tie, before buttons on his shirt. If he didn’t look anywhere but his hands, it made it less humiliating, though every woman in the room was watching as he revealed more of his naked skin. He followed Annette’s usual preference and folded the silk vest after he’d taken it off, and then the starched linen shirt, leaving the silver cufflinks atop the pile. Maria stopped her pulling, leaving Vitaly a moment’s respite.

Clamps bit into the little bumps of his nipples and everywhere on his chest that she pinched and clipped off, choosing a more random distribution than the neat stripes of pain Maria had inflicted on her fiancé.

Phillip looked at Annette’s hands as she worked, accepting the discomfort but trying to keep his vocalizations to a minimum. He was quickly decorated with as many clamps as Vitaly, and then Annette made a spider’s web with more ribbon, starting on his belly and looping everything together.

Annette stroked his face. “Good boy, Adam, I was sure we’d have to restrain you.”

“Thank you,” Phillip knew what was coming next.

She started by tugging just on the individual toothed mouths, giving little shots of pain as the stretched and bit into his skin, and then pulling more than one pinch, using the ribbons. When they’d been on his skin for a while, she grabbed the skin next to the clamp and released it for a second, fluttering on the spot so it gnawed.

Hissing and grunting became yelping. Annette was in front of him, biting her lip and breathing slowly. “Were it not for propriety, I could kiss you now,” she whispered. “You’re so handsome in this little bit of pain. Oh Adam, are you going to scream? ”

“Thank you,” Phillip repeated, tightening the muscles in his core and kneeling straight upright like a pillar. “No, I think I can bear it.”

“Oh please,” Maria’s wheedle broke in. “Let me do something?”

“What is it, dear?” Annette put her hand on Maria’s arm, swallowing back some of her lust. “Don’t neglect Mr. Yardley.”

“Let’s have a tug of war! Until one cries off!”

He and Vitaly faced off, each little metal spot of pain tied to a corresponding clamp on the other male. Maria was behind her fiancé, hands on his shoulders and looking across at him, while he could feel Annette’s hands on his forehead and throat, tilting his head back.

“So, what do you think, Adam, do you want to win this?” Annette whispered in his ear. “Mr. Yardley is going to have to pay some sort of forfeit if he loses and I know you are tougher and outweigh him.”

“Win this, Vitya, or there’s going to be more time on the bench!” Maria’s unrestrained zeal made her shout in her fiancé’s ear, “though maybe a slut like you would see that as a reward. More time stretching?”

“What do you want?” The metal teeth were starting to tear his skin. “My Lady?”
“Your comfort, darling. Maria doesn’t care as long as she sees someone humiliated, though personally I see you as private property. But it wouldn’t bother me to see you lose; I just wondered if you wanted the responsibility for Vitaly getting gang raped.”

“Nhhhh…”

“Come on, Miss Maria, be fair. Let your fiancé be a man!” Patricia spoke from her comfortable chair. “Make him pull!”

Annette’s hands relaxed, stroking his shoulders. “This is not a mind game, this is pain.”

Phillip felt the lack of Annette’s presence as she stood up and joined Maria off to the side. Without the two women tugging on them, the two men locked eyes. Vitaly was scared, his makeup smeared past recognition and his hands clenched into fists.

“Mr. Yardley, pull” Phillip said quietly.

“I am!” Vitaly said through clenched teeth, so quietly that it was almost inaudible.

Phillip knew he was putting on a good show. They both leaned backwards, edging away to the limits their flesh would let them. Further trickles of blood came from the stretching bite of the pin sharp metal teeth. The women were leaning in, as was Patricia’s Pitor.

The first clip pulled off his flesh, opening up a channel in the skin where the heavy sprung jaws dragged through. Phillip screamed, but not before Vitaly, both men putting red droplets on the emerald green rug.

Annette was panting. She could take or leave Vitaly, but her man was gorgeous, arms swung behind his back for better balance and pain writ in large font, from his spare muscular chest and belly, to the hard cords of his neck. The alligator mouths were fastened all about, pulling and tearing and putting little amounts of fresh red blood on his pale skin and amongst the feather light, dark hair on his body.

In the end, after they’d both lost several clips and Phillip guessed Vitaly was near his tolerance, Phillip asked for mercy.

“My Lady!”

She was behind him again in a whirl of heavy skirts, arms on his and chin on his left shoulder. “I believe your Mr. Yardley is the winner!”

Maria squealed in competitive triumph, taking scissors from Patricia and cutting the ribbons to separate the two men. Annette was deftly and gently taking the clips off him, not minding the small amounts of blood she got on her sleeves. Phillip let himself slump against her.

“Lucky I broke with my usual habit and wore red,” she whispered. “You are coming to bed with me tonight.”

Agatha seemed unperturbed at the state of her rug. “Well, then, that was delightful!”

“Awww, but you lost! Vitya, maybe you should give him your panties.”

Phillip looked at the filmy piece of fabric being proffered. “You are too kind,” he said, from the vicinity of Annette’s lap. “My lady?”

“No Maria, I have a different forfeit in mind. I think Adam would be rewarded, not punished with those.”

“Like Puppy? What a pervert!”

Riding the next morning made the perfect excuse to retire early. Without even retrieving his shirt, Annette steered him in the direction of the guest rooms, and a brief conference with a servant was the only pause before she shoved him through the door and backwards onto the guest bed and straddled him.

“Mine!” She grabbed his jaw and forced a kiss on him. “I want you, now.”

Phillip recoiled back into the bed, feeling her nails dig into his neck. Arousal might be driving Annette but he was tired, tense and stinging from about a dozen and a half little bites. She was struggling with the button on his pants when the knock on the door interrupted them.

A servant bought a bottle of alcohol and a folded cloth. “Ah, right.”

It woke up all the pain again when she lightly dabbed his best and belly with the disinfectant, but she was gentle and careful and cleaned him up. “Adam…”

“Yes, my Lady?”

“I love your flesh,” her second kiss had more gentleness, but she didn’t lose her urgency when she undressed him, and very quickly the last of his clothes were on the floor and he was on his back on the bed, head cradled by the pillows. “I am going to hurt you some more, shall I tie you down?”

“No, my Lady.”

 

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