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on Darrek’s nipples—a simple press against them, tilting the wooden pegs upward or downward elicits delicious whimpers and small pleading sounds from Darrek. He can see how red and inflamed his nipples have gotten, can understand almost perfectly Darrek’s mumbled words, from his years of practice at this. He hears, “Please, don’t. Don’t. It hurts. Shit...” and on and on. But Darrek hasn’t used the safeword, so Gabriel keeps going. He twists one of the pins, and Darrek screams, leaning into the touch, trying to follow the motion to make it stop, but Gabriel keeps twisting and then pulls the pin off.
    Gabriel strokes over the abused nipple, exposed now, and listens to Darrek begin to cry, sees his tears dampen the blindfold.
    His touch is gentle at first, only brushing his palms over the sore, red nub, but even
that
jolts Darrek. Gabriel pulls off the other pin and brushes over that side as well.
    Trace is down to two pins. He pulls one of them off, and Darrek bucks his hips, shouting a strangled, “No! No! Fuck!”
    “Good boy,” Gabriel purrs. “You’re doing
so good.
Does it hurt?”
    “Yes! Fuck! Yes, it fucking hurts!” Darrek growls viciously around the gag.
    Gabriel smiles and tweaks Darrek’s nipples, pinching them hard and twisting them. It gets quite a reaction from him and he thrashes wildly. Leaning down, Gabriel licks over the left one and then sucks on it, feeling the heat of the blood that’s rushed to the skin. Darrek gasps and turns into the touch, letting it soothe him a little, but then Gabriel yanks the other nipple with his hand and Darrek starts to cry again.
    “Pull the last one. He’s had enough,” Gabriel says to Trace.
    Darrek relaxes visibly at the words, but when the last pin is removed, it makes him growl with pain again. He yanks his arms against the bonds and shuts his legs as much as possible. The clothespins are gone, but he can still feel them anyway like they remain, his flesh tender and on fire.
    “Shorts off,” Gabriel says, nodding to Trace.
    Darrek stills on the table, going quiet and freezing as he tries to process what’s happening. The restraints holding his ankles are released and he actually
lifts his hips
, unasked, to help Trace get the shorts off of him. It brings a pleased smile to Gabriel’s lips, a clear sign of Darrek’s submission and desire.
    Even Darrek doesn’t really understand why he does it, why he obeys. Why he wants this so badly.
    After Trace sets the shorts aside, he starts to attach the leg spreader. Gabriel asks Darrek, leaning down and speaking quietly near his ear, “If I take the gag off, do you promise to behave? I can replace it with a cloth that you can spit out if you need to say something to me.”
    Darrek thinks for a second then nods vigorously. As the ball gag is unfastened and taken out of his mouth, Trace asks Gabriel, “Legs down or up?”
    “Down to start. Then up.”
    Darrek feels something being strapped to his thighs, just above his knees. When it’s attached to both of his legs, he finds that he can’t move them at all, that there seems to be a bar stretched between them, keeping them widely open. He feels unspeakably exposed. His genitals are bare now, completely unprotected, even by something as trivial as a pair of jeans. His cock is thick and swollen, lying against his belly. As a blush spreads over Darrek’s skin with embarrassment, Trace lifts his ankles to a higher slot than before, so that his legs are bent more sharply than they had been, in order to accommodate the spreader bar.
    Knowing that he hasn’t been given permission to speak, that he may get punished for talking, Darrek still can’t help asking, “What are you going to do to me?”
    “Anything I want,” Gabriel growls. He pushes the first two fingers of his left hand between Darrek’s lips, into his mouth. Reaching far back, he strokes over Darrek’s tongue and back into his throat. When Darrek gags on them, Gabriel says, “Relax.