Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine and the first 500 words or so are a transcript (typed up by myself while watching the ep) from the episode in Season 5 where Greg passes his final proficiency.

Spoilers: Series 5.

 

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Celebration

 

Greg walked dejected into Grissom’s office, he was pretty sure he’d failed, it was obvious even to him that he’d messed up. He’d called it a suicide when it had been murder. The room was in subdued lighting. He looked across at the man who sat in the chair behind the desk, his back turned to the door.

 

“Grissom, you wanted to see me?” He stopped just in front of the desk.

 

The chair swung round to face him and in it sat the jello man Nick and Warwick had made, dressed as a CSI, round his neck a placard that declared in big letters “You Passed.” The lights came on and laughter erupted behind him as he creased slightly with a disbelieving grin on his face. He straightened and turned to face the applause and approval of his team mates. Sarah stepped up and planted a kiss on his cheek followed by Kathryn who told him well done and distracted him from noticing the proud smile that covered Gil’s face.

 

“Congratulations, Sanders. Good work.” Ecklie interrupted their congratulations, and everyone’s focus momentarily shifted to him.

 

“Thank you.” Greg gave an unassuming smile and dipped his head slightly in recognition. His smile slowly faded.

 

“Ok gang, there’s people to put in jail, lets get back to it shall we.” Ecklie’s voice was strained.

 

Gil’s smile also faded and almost annoyed, quietly agreed.

 

“Come on, come on now. Party’s over lets go.” Ecklie urged.

 

People nodded reluctantly and began to leave. Nick patted Greg on the back and told him good job and they all melted away leaving Greg and Gil alone in his office.

 

Gil raised an eyebrow with a slight upturn of one side of his mouth, as Greg started to move closer.

 

“I don’t get it.” Greg shook his head slightly, disbelieving still. “I got the wrong guy. Wrong manner of death.” He was in front of Gil now.

 

“I don’t expect you to be correct in all your interpretations all the time. You collected the evidence. You thought there was something missing. You went back and found it. Hey, that’s the job. Congratulations Greg.” Gil then shook Greg’s hand and was rewarded with a smile.

 

They were interrupted then by the rest of the team appearing in the doorway and waving a bottle of champagne and glasses in Greg’s direction. He gave Gil a slight apologetic smile and went off to join them. Gil turned and watched him join them, clinking glasses and laughing together. A smile grew on his face and his eyes sparkled.

 

Most of the others could have no idea just how proud he was of Greg, none of them knew what the goofy guy meant to him… sometimes he wasn’t even sure that Greg realised it.

 

When they got through celebration Greg headed out to his car, he noticed a note under his wiper blade and pulled it out to read, choosing to climb into the car and view it with the help of the interior light. The handwriting was familiar and he read the short sentence aloud. “Your presence is required.” The rush of adrenalin those words invoked caused his breath to hitch, heart to speed up and blood to rush to his groin. He took a moment to compose himself and rearrange his erection so it was less uncomfortable, then he put his jeep in drive and headed for his lover’s house. His mind was racing a mile a minute and his stomach felt like it was filled with a million butterflies as he drove carefully but as quick as he could to his destination.

 

There were the two familiar cars parked in the drive when he pulled up and he swallowed hard in anticipation. He knew what was expected of him and he climbed out of the car and went to the front door. ‘Go in the front door, strip off and kneel then wait,’ his mind told him. But when he turned the handle it wouldn’t open, Greg frowned; the door was always unlocked when he was “required”. He knocked tentatively and the door was opened after a short pause. He smiled nervously at the younger of his two lovers as he motioned him in and locked the door behind.

 

“Just the jacket and the shoes today Greggo.” The soft southern baritone informed him.

 

Things were very different to how they usually were and it had confused and mentally knocked him off his stride. He slipped his jacket off his shoulders and folded it onto the chair that was reserved for his things. Then he crouched and unfastened each sneaker in turn and pulled them and his socks off. He stood up straight and resisted the urge to crack a funny remark. It wasn’t something that usually worried him but his usual preparation and descent into submissive headspace had been interrupted.

 

“Ready?” Those dark eyes were appraising him even though he was still clothed and that helped him compose himself.

 

Greg closed his eyes, took a deep breath, centred himself then nodded as he opened them again. “Yes, Sir.”

 

There was a nod of approval then his lover led him into the living room. Greg obediently dropped his gaze to the floor as his eyes caught a glimpse of his older lover. He had to fight hard to not run into his arms and be held, just as he had been fighting the urge all through the last couple of hours of his shift. They kept work and their relationship separate by agreement, but that didn’t mean there weren’t times when there was a look or a touch that made them “need” that slight contact more, and it had been a hard shift for him… an important one.

 

He was always worried that failure at work would disappoint his lover at home. He was suddenly afraid because he was still dressed, did that mean it was being ended, that they didn’t think it was worth him taking his clothes off only to have to put them back on again in 5 minutes time. He tried to keep his posture in light of his defeatist thoughts but his shoulders started to slump in the few seconds since he’d entered the room.

 

“Greg?” The enquiring tone of his lover asked as he spotted the trembling lip and sagging shoulders.

 

Greg wanted to throw himself to the floor at his Master’s feet and kiss them, begging them to let him try harder. He felt the well of tears in his eyes. He missed the look of worry that was exchanged between his two lovers.

 

“Pet?” The voice was softer this time and laced with concern.

 

Greg brought his watery eyes up to meet determined stormy blue ones. “Master.” His voice was quiet and plaintive.

 

His Master held a hand out to him, “Come now pet, don’t get yourself in a state.”

 

Greg rushed into them and felt the deceptively strong arms wrap around him. He let his tears and fear go and sobbed quietly into that sturdy shoulder that had practice in carrying so much responsibility. He felt his back stroked by one pair of hands and then he felt the other, bigger, hand stroking his hair softly, felt warm lips on his temple.

 

“Hush, pet. Its ok.” The words were murmured into his ear and he felt the familiar tickle of beard against his smooth skin.

 

They petted and soothed him until he calmed down, all the stress of the last few days melted away in its wake and he felt so much lighter, so much more ready to face the world. Gil felt the change in Greg instinctively and eased his arms from around him; using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the tears on Greg’s cheeks.

 

“Better?”

 

Greg nodded and lowered his eyes submissively, “Yes Master, I… I’m sorry.”

 

The soft hand caressed his cheek and Greg leaned into it slightly. “Nothing to be sorry about, pet.” Then the hand was gone and the command followed, “On your knees, Greg.”

 

Without taking time to think, Greg went to his knees and assumed the position he had long known to be required of him. He was back on familiar territory even though he was still dressed. He straightened his back and rested his ass on his heels, opening his thighs and pushing out the bulge in his pants that had never gone away even while he was crying. He held his hands behind his back, one hand wrapping round the other wrist to hold onto it, his chin was up but his eyes were down. A strong hand ran through his bleach dappled brown hair and gave it an affectionate tug.

 

“Isn’t that a beautiful sight, Nicky?” Gil said suddenly and caused the resurgence of the butterflies in Greg’s stomach.

 

“Sure is, I can never get tired of that sight.” The soft southern drawl agreed even as Greg could tell it was moving away from him across the room.

 

“I was very proud of you today, pet, we both were. We’ve discussed this a fair bit recently, and agree that today is the perfect moment. You’ve been serving us for a year now, not to the day… but close enough.” Greg could hear the smile in the voice and it helped relax him. “We decided that we would like to offer you our collar, pet.”

 

Greg’s heart started to beat so hard and fast that he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. His chest swelled and tears pricked at his eyes for a very different reason. His mind raced over all the implications.

 

“Do you need time to think about it?” Gil asked him softly.

 

“N…no Master.” Greg’s voice almost failed him but he forced it to work. “I mean, no I don’t need to think about it, the answers yes, Master… Oh god, yes.” He could barely contain his excitement.

 

“Look at me, pet.” Gil requested and Greg obeyed, raising his eyes.

 

Looking into Gil’s eyes he saw so much emotion, sincerity, pride and love. It almost made his heart stop and reset. Peripherally, he saw Nick had returned and was holding something. “You understand what it means?” His Master asked.

 

Greg nodded, “Yes, I remember we talked about it, a long time ago. I want this… I really do. Master, please…?”

 

He discovered the thing that Nick had been holding was a wooden box when it was past into his direct vision as Gil took hold of it. The older man was impressed when without prompting his boy changed his position, bringing his hands round to rest palm up on his thighs, the message clear ‘please let me serve you.’ Gil nodded and smiled, easing the wooden box open for Greg’s first glimpse of the collar.

 

His eyes misted as he looked at the finely crafted leather, it was about an inch and half wide, dark blue and an engraved Celtic chain ran the length of it in gold. At the centre point on the collar he recognised the trinity symbol that also represented protection surrounding the O-ring attachment. It was stunning. He looked from the collar to Gil to Nick then back again.

 

He nodded eyes and voice begging, “please…”

 

Gil smiled broadly and took the collar gently from the box and fastened the cool leather around Greg’s neck. He knew better than to raise a hand to touch it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.

 

“Looks perfect.” Nick’s Texan drawl melted through his mind and soul like molasses and he couldn’t keep the goofy grin off his face.

 

“It stays on all the time you’re home, pet… unless he have visitors where it’s… not appropriate.” Gil reminded him and he nodded. His only regret was that he wouldn’t be able to wear it at work. “Nick has something else for you.”

 

Greg shifted his gaze to Nick who was removing something from a similar wooden box. “Give me your right hand.” Nick commanded in the way only he could and Greg obeyed without protest.

 

His sleeve was pushed up and a leather cuff was fastened around his wrist. It was wider than the collar but the pattern matched. Nick raised the wrist to his lips and kissed the cuff right where the centre symbol sat before he tugged the sleeve back down to cover it. “The only time that ever comes off is if you have to do something that might damage it.”

 

“Thank you, Sir…. Thank you Master.” Greg’s eyes were misty again as he looked from Nick to Gil. Nick knew he didn’t have to clarify what kind of damaging situations he meant; Greg would understand the things they sometimes had to do on the job.

 

Gil held his hand out to Greg and he placed his in it. As the older man started to help him stand Nick’s hand came out to request the other hand, which was also slipped into it. Together they helped the younger man to his feet. Greg felt almost giddy as kisses were showered over his lips and cheeks.

 

“I think we should take this celebration to the playroom.” Gil declared and knew neither of the other two would disagree with him.

 

Greg’s clothing was stripped off by two sets of nimble hands as he stood and let them, occasionally he would follow their direction and move to allow them to remove something more easily. Eventually, he stood naked and his clothes were neatly folded in a little pile by the door.

 

The playroom was the largest room in the house, specially equipped with everything Gil and Nick needed. To Greg his two lovers were equals, even though one was Master and the other Sir that was simply their preferences as titles went, and it made things less confusing, as they always knew which one he was addressing. Gil was slightly more alpha in some situations and Nick would take the lead in others. He knew that occasionally Nick would submit to Gil in play, it was a way for him to release the frustration he built up on the job; sometimes he just needed to let go and at those times Gil would happily facilitate that release for him. But their dynamic was only occasional and when the need arose, otherwise they were very closely matched.

 

Greg had often wondered how they’d managed before he’d joined their relationship, it must have been a constant battle for dominance, Nick had once given him a lopsided grin and told him that was why he was there now… because their relationship wasn’t surviving the battle of wills. Greg had been surprised at that, they seemed so tight, so close and in love… and Nick was telling him that it was because of him that they were. He was the pin that held Nick and Gil’s relationship together. He’d carried a goofy grin around for days after that conversation and everyone else thought he was crazy.

 

“Quit analysing.” The deep Texan voice sliced into his mind ramblings and Greg had the decency to blush. It amazed him how well these two could read him and know what was going on inside his head. It amazed him more that they accepted him, goofiness included.

 

“Sorry, Sir.” He brought himself out of his daze and looked up into those handsome features, it had struck him many times how much Nick looked like the unlikeliest of gentle men. He looked like a jock, one that belonged playing football and utilising none of the dozen brain cells you would expect him to have. But he wasn’t just good looking and muscular, he was intelligent, gentle and deep in ways that many people couldn’t even begin to imagine. And he was nibbling at Greg’s ear in the way he knew turned his boy to jello.

 

Strong hands found Greg’s nipples and rolled them lightly at first, then slightly harder. Nick pinched, tugged and twisted them until the pain caused Greg to arch his back and cry out. He rewarded the sound with a deep wet kiss, Nick’s tongue pushed its way into his boy’s mouth, demanding and forcing entrance. Greg stroked his tongue along the invading muscle as it probed and explored, he felt the lips hard against his and the tongue pulled back before his lower lip was sucked into Nick’s mouth and nibbled on until it was swollen and tingling. Breath catching in his lungs, Greg looked up at him eyes full of his desire and need. He saw those lips quirk into a smirk and then they were lowered and brushed against his ear.

 

“Gonna make ya scream and beg, Greggo, gonna mark you up so good you won’t be able to move for days without the memory hitting you again and again.” The deep voice tickled and teased his mind, sending shivers down his spine and causing his cock to pulse and throb. Nick new what he liked and could always give him the pain he craved so much easier than Gil seemed able to.

 

He swallowed hard against the invading words, “please… Sir?” His begging voice was little more than a whisper.

 

He only slightly wondered where Gil was, it wasn’t unusual that one of the two would sit back and watch while the other led the scene, occasionally the voyeur would join in when things became really heated, but quite often they would be content to enjoy the action from the side lines, sometimes offering little suggestions from a different perspective. //I can see white flesh still… you missed a bit// a phantom voice whispered a past line from one of these scenes.

 

Nick’s fingers were back twisting his nipples and Greg didn’t hold back his cries of pleasure-pain. He’d learned quite quickly at the beginning of the relationship that it pleased them to hear him and he was rewarded for letting go. His nipples had hardened under the attention and his tender flesh burned harder when Nick fastened heavy clover clamps on each nipple. He moaned as each one was placed on… and cried out unreservedly when Nick tugged on the chain that joined them causing them to tighten further. Nothing secured him in place where he stood but they had trained him well enough that he knew not to move until they commanded it.

 

Nick still had hold of the chain, it was pulled taut and he took a step towards the frame that dominated the middle of the room. “Follow, pet.”

 

The frame was his Master’s pride and joy, it enabled them to strap him in and do almost anything with him. His wrists were cuffed into place upward and outwards and his ankles similarly downward. Then the straps were wound around his waist and secured to the vertical sides and the same around his chest that just managed to keep his clamped nipples clear. Extra cuffs were fastened around his calves and thighs and attached to the frame, and the same with his forearms. Straps around his head secured that also. The Rectangular inner frame was attached to two ultra sturdy uprights and it allowed the frame to be rotated vertically through 360o and locked in any angle through that - access all areas.

 

As he was strapped in, he caught sight of Gil, reclined on the satin pillow pile in the corner of the room, he was watching intently, already stripped out of his clothes and idly caressing his own body. Greg couldn’t help but find that one of the most erotic images he’d ever seen. He didn’t get to see it for long though before a blindfold was fastened over his eyes. He felt the frame start to tilt, Nick moved it slowly to ensure the bonds held him securely enough and finally the tilting levelled off. Being blindfolded it was disorientating and Greg was held too securely for gravity to give him much of a clue. He heard movement and suddenly there was a buzzing sound that made him frown.

 

“Hold really still, pet.”

 

He almost jumped as gentle hands moved over his groin and he realised what the sound was as Nick started to work, it was clippers… Nick was using clippers to remove his pubic hair. A rush of heat coloured Greg’s cheeks, a mixture of arousal and humiliation at the action. He wondered how far Nick would go. No other noise was made as the clippers worked and he felt and heard the hair being cut way. Finally, the clippers were shut off and the room was filled with silence as gentle hands appraised his crotch.

 

There was a sound of affirmation from Nick. “Now for stage 2.”

 

‘Stage 2?’ Greg’s mind cried out…there was a stage 2… was he going to shave him bare?

 

An odd warm sticky sensation caressed his skin down there and horror dawned, not shave… but wax. He felt hands press then pull, he screamed as the strip was pulled away. “Please… oh god…Sir… please…” But his begging went unheeded.

 

He had no way of gauging how much or how little of the area Nick had covered, each time he felt the sticky followed by the press he tried to prepare himself for the ripping away of his pubic hair, but each time he cried out. This wasn’t what he’d had in mind when Nick had told him he was going to make him scream, but Greg would be lying if he tried to deny the effect his was having on him. He was spiralling deeper into his headspace and his cock was hard and pulsing as if it were being stroked and petted. The waxing of his genitals seemed to last hours in his partially sensory deprived state. There was a delicate scent followed by a cooling sensation caressing the heated abused skin, he moaned with relief assuming it to be over.

 

“Such a good boy, there… that wasn’t so bad now was it…” Nick cooed into his ear and tickled the flesh with the tip of his tongue. “We’ll leave doing your legs ‘til later.”

 

Greg’s face must have looked as panic stricken as he felt and he could almost hear the smirk from Nick.

 

“We want you to look pretty for us all the time, pet.” And hands found the chain attached to the clamps and pulled before they were released simultaneously. He cried out at each move, even louder when the blood flowed back into his tortured nipples and burned the flesh.

 

Greg heard movement and the frame started to tilt; he could feel the rush of blood to his head and guessed he was being tipped upside down. The first few times they had done this he had panicked and called his safe word, but eventually he had come to trust Nick and Gil’s ability enough to be able to get through it without panicking. He went through the inverted vertical and carried on upwards, even more disorientated now he felt the frame stop and it was locked into place.

 

Strong hands stroked over his back lightly then he felt nails dig in and drag across the flesh exposed between the straps, over shoulders, over the backs of his ribs and then his lower back. He cried out and tried to arch with each deep assault but it was futile when he was secured so tightly. There was a stinging crack of a hand contacting a butt cheek and he yelped in surprise and the wash of pain that turned quickly to pleasure.

 

A finger probed his entrance, massaging and testing but not quite entering. He moaned his pleasure and desire, trying to convey his need for more through that small sound. Another crack stung his other butt cheek and he cried out again, tapering off into a whimper. Then he was left to hang there for a while with only his hearing telling him what it thought might be happening.

 

He heard movement and the rustle of clothing, footsteps, a soft moan, the sound of flesh on flesh and his imagination filled in the blanks.

 

If he had been able to see then Greg would have seen Nick approach Gil and sink down onto the pillows with him, pulling him into a warm embrace with a sigh and pressing their lips together. Tongues entwined and hands caressed, touched…explored. Each moaning occasionally in pleasure and delight as an erotic spot was located and exploited. Finally, Nick moved their position and kissed his way down Gil’s body to his hard weeping cock. He’d gotten so aroused watching Nick waxing their boy and the implication of it; he was closer than he really should be just from that. Nick took the hard flesh in his mouth and rubbed his tongue determinedly against the underside. Then pulled back up the shaft sucking as he went, pulling all the way off he held Gil’s cock steady while he licked at the slit and nibbled on the foreskin in the way he knew drove his lover crazy.

 

Their moans and whimpers of pleasure filled the air and filtered across to the boy who laid waiting in the frame. His own cock was painfully hard from the sounds and his own imagination but Greg had no relief from that. He tried instead to focus on the stinging of the scratches on his back and from the waxing of his genitals… his nipples too still pulsed and burned.

 

Nick rolled Gil’s balls in his large hand and sucked down on his cock again, swallowing around it, urging him to give himself over to the pleasure that flooded him. With a grunt and a growl the older man arched his back and shot hard into the waiting eager mouth. The Texan eagerly swallowed it all down then licked his lover’s cock clean before kissing his way up the heaving, gasping body to claim Gil’s lips and share the taste of his own seed with him.

 

Greg felt like he would go crazy at the sounds of pleasure that reached him. It was more torturous then any waxing or beating could ever be and he groaned in frustration as his cock leaked long streams of clear fluid to the floor.

 

Things were quiet for a long while after that, and he wondered what was happening, had the other two fallen asleep? Had he missed them leaving? In actual fact Gil and Nick were curled up, cuddling… occasionally caressing each other and watching their frustrated pet with amused and affectionate looks. After only 20 minutes, but what seemed like hours to Greg, Nick kissed Gil and rose from the cushions. He moved silently with a stealth that remained from his days in the navy seals. With any luck his boy was so far in his own head that he wouldn’t hear the snap of the whip until it struck.

 

Nick picked up the single-tailed leather whip and took his position. The tail whipped through the air and struck precisely where he’d aimed for on Greg’s ass cheek, cutting a bright red stripe across it that had the boy screaming in agony and shaking in his bonds. He’d been right, Greg hadn’t heard it coming. He brought down the tail a few more times, snapping it to bite it into the fleshy butt cheeks until they were striped red.

 

The boy screamed on every strike and whimpered in between them. His head was spinning, they didn’t usually go straight to the single tail, they would normally warm up to it, and he wondered if he was being punished or if Nick was just stepping things up in their play. He mentally pushed the former thought away; if he were being punished then they would have told him. No… this was a celebration so Nick was giving him what he knew he liked the most. He relaxed into it and let himself be carried away on the crashing searing waves of pain that exploded from each strike of the leather.

 

Nick moved and began to lay a criss-crossing pattern of stripes across the backs of Greg’s thighs, the pattern only being interrupted by the straps that secured him. His boy cried out delirious with pleasure and pain that had merged so closely they were fast becoming indistinguishable. He tossed out a random strike that bit into his butt cheek and caused him to tense and cum hard. He cried out in release but as it subsided he whimpered. His mind was blown, floating away on fluffy clouds of pleasure. A voice somewhere in the back of his mind said something about not having permission, but he couldn’t work out what it meant.

 

Greg relaxed in the bonds and Nick set the whip aside, not disappointed in the slightest that his boy had cum from being whipped. Gentle cooling hands slid over burning hot flesh, inspecting and soothing. He pressed gentle kisses occasionally over the marks that would likely take days to fade. He wasn’t finished yet.

 

In something of a mind buzzing stupor, Greg became aware of something slick pressing at his butt, it wasn’t a cock, he was sure of that. It was pushed insistently in and he cried out as it stretched him wider and wider, until it popped through the ring of muscle and was seated deep inside. He felt the base against his ass and recognised it as a plug, although it felt wider than usual and there’d been no preparation first. He whimpered as his ass fluttered and protested at the invasion, and his cock responded even though he’d only just cum. Nick tapped the base of the plug and the action was rewarded with a loud deeply felt moan that evaporated into a whimper. Greg’s response in turn was rewarded with sharp stinging slaps over the already abused ass cheeks, one for each.

 

Gil had nipped from the room and returned with a bowl of ice. Nick kissed him deeply and grinned as he looked at the ice, he could just make out the knife they’d bought peeking out. It was a specially dulled knife, designed to give the impression that you were being cut but without the actual wounding. Greg had expressed an interest in knife play and they wanted to see how he would react to the psychology of it before actually doing it.

 

Leaving the knife in the ice Nick picked out a piece of the ice and trailed it across Greg’s abused ass. The boy didn’t know whether to yelp in pain or moan in pleasure, the mixed noises where music to Nick’s ears and he leaned down and lapped at the cooled and wet cheek. He selected a thick leather paddle from the wall and started to bring it down over that damp ass, the wet making the sting so much sweeter with such a thuddy paddle. He covered the whole of his ass, moving repeatedly to ensure an even reddening of flesh and then down over the backs of his thighs.

 

Greg pleaded and begged as he gasped for air and expletives mingled with his needy diatribe. Nick knew that the begging was all a part of it, he knew that in order to achieve maximum pleasure that Greg needed to plead for it to stop, he also knew that if his boy really did want it to stop then he would use their predetermined word that was designed for just that purpose. The first couple of times Nick had been reluctant to continue when his pet had sobbed and begged for it to stop, he had felt like consent had been removed, but afterwards Greg had told him that it was all part of the phases he went through and to just go through it. The younger of his two Master’s had agreed and they hadn’t looked back since then.

 

Greg was caught in a swirling mass of pain that was morphed and remodelled until it became pleasure and registered in his hard cock. Every time the paddle landed it jerked the plug in his ass and it rubbed his inner walls, he cried out, moaned and whimpered, begging until he was hoarse… words that mostly made little sense and went ignored. He was aware of the soft baritone voice telling him how good he was and how proud they were of him, how beautiful he looked bound and wearing their collar with his backside glowing and burning. And how much he wanted to fuck him raw.

 

He paddled him until the flesh burned red, and the whip marks were almost indistinguishable. Sure enough the begging turned to pleas for more and Nick obliged him for a few more strikes that landed harder than the previous ones. He set the paddle aside and picked more ice from to bowl, sliding it over burning flesh that would most likely bruise from the punishing blows. Greg shivered and tried to twist in his bonds, his cries were becoming more animalistic, Nick knew where his boy was headed and was only too happy to help him on his journey.

 

He brought the frame slowly upright, stopping it in the vertical position. He lapped at Greg’s nipples then bit at each one. Moving back and forth randomly he lathed them with pleasurable licks, kisses, sucks and intermittently bit down on them causing his boy to jerk and cry out in a voice that now sounded raw from all the screaming. Nick stood in front of him and unfastened the blindfold. He kissed first the boy’s cheeks and then lips; his tongue flickered out and tasted the salty tang of tears. He sucked at Greg’s lip until it was swollen and his boy was moaning.

 

Blinking still at the light after being blindfolded so long he wished he could lean in and take more of those kisses but all he could do was receive what Nick decided to give him. He moaned in frustration, his cock almost painfully hard again after the paddling. His whole body seemed to be on fire from the sweet torture that he’d endured.

 

Nick was kissing along the edge of his collar and it felt so right, so perfect, that he never wanted it to stop. But stop it did. Nick stepped back and looked at him with a twinkle in his eye. His hand reached up and caressed Greg’s cheek, “So, beautiful… so perfect, so well behaved. I have a treat for you my pet.”

 

Greg’s cheeks grew pinker and pinker with each compliment and his eyes glistened with emotion. Then the hand was gone, and when he saw what Nick had picked up his eyes widened and his heart rate sped up again. Breath caught in his lungs, he didn’t know whether to protest or ride it out, he had told them it was one of the things he wanted to try but from their reactions at the time he never thought they would.

 

Nick showed him the knife and turned it so the light glinted off it and made it look menacing and dangerous. “Are you ready to bleed for us, pet? Ready to wear scars for us?”

 

Greg swallowed the lump in his throat. “Y…yes, Sir.” His stomach twisted in anticipation and nervousness, as he tried to imagine how long and how many times Nick would cut him.

 

“How many do you think Gil?” Nick asked his lover without taking his eyes of Greg.

 

“Five.” Came the reply. “Horizontally, in a row, down his left side.”

 

Nick nodded, “Sound good to you, pet?”

 

Greg’s eyes were still wide and he stammered as he replied in little more than a whisper, “Y…yes, Sir.”

 

Nick gave that lopsided smile of his and moved the blade towards Greg’s left side. It was ice cold but his boy didn’t know that and when it touched the skin it would burn as if he was really being cut. He pressed the metal to the flesh and slowly dragged it back over it, digging it in slightly. He carried out each fake cut as deliberately as if they were real and Greg reacted to them as if his skin really was being sliced, he cried out with each pass of the blade, tears came to his eyes and ran down his cheeks and he sobbed at the what he thought was being done to him.

 

Nick set the knife aside without letting him see that there was a distinct lack of blood and then he leaned in and licked at the five parallel red lines, as if he were licking up spilled blood. Sobs of soul deep pain wracked his bound boy and Nick embraced him, stroking his hair and kissing away his tears. Noting that his erection hadn’t eased during any of it.

 

“My beautiful boy.” He whispered in Greg’s ear and nipped at the lobe.

 

He decided Greg had had enough and reached to pull the plug from his butt, his hand being as careful as possible with the burning flesh. Nick crouched to unfasten the straps that held his boy so tightly. Gil appeared at the other side and together they took the weakened boy down and Nick carefully lifted him into his arms to prevent him collapsing in a heap on the ground. He carried him to the pillows where he stroked Greg’s hair and they held him, one on each side, whispering endearments and kissing him over his face, neck and shoulders. Hands soothed his sore parts as he lay on his side. He felt a cooling lotion applied to his backside and was surprised that they weren’t fussing over the cuts that had just been inflicted. He groaned softly and let his eyes close under the affectionate words and touches, his mind still floating somewhere in the stratosphere.

 

Greg awoke hours later in bed, he whimpered as he tried to move and found the deep bruising was already setting in, it hurt so good. He moved gingerly and curled up to the warm body in front of him. He lifted his arm to look at the cuts and was confused when he found no sign of them. But he’d felt them being made?

 

His neck was nuzzled from behind and an amused voice spoke softly, “Quite the mind screw that, wasn’t it? That knife couldn’t cut jello.”

 

Greg blinked and looked at his side again, “I thought…”

 

He felt the nuzzling head nod and Greg started to chuckle before the nuzzling reminded him that he had passed out while still hard. His erection had only faded a little and was just waiting for the right stimuli to reaffirm its presence. He moaned softly and felt a hand slide around his waist to stroke him. He remembered the waxing and moved to try and look at the effect.

 

“Looks sexy, pet.” Nick gave it a caress for emphasis.

 

“It feels it… You were joking about the legs…right, Sir?”

 

Nick chuckled, “No pet, I wasn’t.”

 

The hand that had been petting his groin moved and he felt a finger probe his still slick hole. Nick drove two fingers into him and Greg bit down on his lip to stop from shouting out and waking Gil up. The fingers moved purposefully, stretching his anus, a third finger was added and thrust in and out of his channel. He whimpered and gasped with need and pleasure.

 

“Please…?” His voice was thick with lust.

 

“Please what, pet?” Nick’s slightly amused voice prompted.

 

“Fuck me… please, Sir… god… please…fuck me stupid. I want to feel you cum inside me.” Greg pleaded, breathily.

 

“Straddle me, my little slut.” Nick smirked as he pulled his fingers out with a soft wet sound.

 

Greg groaned softly in arousal at the use of the name and moved slowly, wincing as he did so, to straddle Nick’s waist. He reached back and guided the huge cock to his hole and pressed down on it. Hands came up to stroke his chest and play with his nipples, pinching and twisting them painfully as Greg tried to relax enough to take that monster in. He felt the head stretching him painfully and closed his eyes and pressed down determinedly. He wanted that cock so badly. He felt the head pop in and he slid part way down with a gasp and a cry of pleasure pain. A look of bliss showed on Nick’s face as his cock was slowly wrapped in a velvet fist and squeezed. He tugged and twisted at them nipples wanting them sore and urging his boy down on his erection.

 

Greg’s descent would have been slow if Nick hadn’t lost patience and pulled his hips down hard and held him there as he cried out and bucked on top of him. He groaned as his boy’s flailing stimulated him, his muscles clamping down and fluttering against his Master’s hard cock. The groan turned to a growl, “Ride me, boy.” He commanded through gritted teeth.

 

Gil had woken up when Greg cried out and lay watching their boy rocking back and forth on that magnificent piece of man flesh. His own cock responded at the erotic sight as they writhed together in pleasure, desperate to climb that peak to orgasmic release.

 

Nick hadn’t cum the whole time they’d been playing even though it had aroused him immensely; he grew close to the edge quickly and felt the need to drive. He flipped his boy onto his back and pushed his knees up to his shoulders and started slamming hard into that sore little hole, fucking him for all he was worth. Gil watched as Nick’s hips pistoned in and out, setting a punishing pace and depth, he slammed in over and over into that bruised ass. He drove in and out mercilessly; calling forth grunts, groans and whimpers of delicious pleasure-pain from the writhing boy under him. He gripped the base of Greg’s cock and growled in his ear, “Don’t cum.”

 

Nick’s body tensed and all the muscles popped out impressively as he exploded deep inside his boy, he howled his release, still driving to milk the last of his spunk from his cock. He kissed Greg briefly and didn’t give him chance to respond before pulling out and rolling to the side, Winking as Gil took up his position and ordered Greg onto his hands and knees. Sore as he was, he was still obedient and the boy complied, moving onto shaky hands and knees and barely getting steady before his other Master’s cock rammed into him. He wasn’t as thick as Nick but he was a couple of inches longer, so he slid in easily and hit deeper.

 

Greg cried out from the deep stimulation and it was Nick’s turn to watch his boy being ravished. One hand wrapped around his boy’s cock for anchorage, the other raked fingernails down his back making him arch and buck back to meet each thrust; Gil rode him almost as hard as Nick had with a deeper penetration. Spurred on by the cacophony of noise falling from Greg’s lips, Gil slowed the pace and thrust harder, making sure to rake over the boy’s prostate every time. Each time he did it caused Greg to squirm and push back harder. Gil was enveloped in pleasure. He started to jerk the cock in his hand while he thrust. “Cum, boy… cum for me… show me how much you love having our cocks in your ass.” The normally eloquent man called as his hips drove deep and hard, grinding his hips against the bruised and abused ass.

 

Greg let himself go when he heard those words and howled as his back arched, his head thrown back and he shot all over the bed underneath them. The clamping of muscles around Gil’s cock mixed with the heady sent of spunk tripped his switch and he thrust in one last time and unloaded deep inside his boy. He collapsed sated onto Greg’s back and licked at his skin, before pulling him down, still buried inside him. Nick scooted up to them and wrapped himself around them.

 

“I think we should do this at least twice a day.” Nick chuckled as he nuzzled Greg’s ear, “Think we should keep him sore, dripping and well used.”

 

Gil agreed and nipped at his boy’s shoulder before leaning across to kiss Nick passionately.

 

 

~Fin~

 

[ readers]