The Kings Personal Joker (boyxboy)

Chapter One Hundred and Three

[Belem's POV]

My torture went on deep into the night, I supposed, though I had little way of knowing just what time it was. My inner clock was screaming, my legs and arms trembling, the air felt stifling, yet I was still somehow aroused by the eventual end of my torment.

And after it all he never rewarded me with relief. I could have cried, and I did.

Instead of giving me the slightest bit of clemency, of mercy for a man who promised, even begged for relief, he shook his head. Despite what was unmistakably a wild fire brewing within, he was stubborn as an ox with no legs and gave me no leniency.

"Please..." I begged, a softer, sweeter version of myself spoke. "Be kind."

"I have no such ability." He said only.

I bit my lip, looking up at him. "I need relief."

Cigol smiled slightly. "It was a punishment, not a reward. Rewards can only be given sparingly."

My face was burning, for more than one reason, my jaw was slightly bruised, the feeling of it was terrible because it came along with a shame of knowing that it was evidence of doing something he deemed inappropriate. A thought that struck me as something corrupting, as though I was already lost to the wolves.

I hung my head. "But I have learned my lesson." I whispered.

He nodded. "Then we stop."

"No!" I growled obstinately.

Something flashed in his eyes and I pursed my lips, cringing as he turned, aware of just how vulnerable I was in front of him, if he chose to punish me he could and if I really angered him he might never give me any relief. 

"Anything, give me some pity a moment."

"This was a punishment. It shall remain one until you prove yourself worthy of a reward."

I swallowed, an odd nervous shiver inside me. I was still half erect even after he had gone and returned with some items. It felt as though I deserved relief after so much torture, I must have looked a state before him, but I was desperate.

"I will do anything."

Another something flashed, then immediately was cloaked, he looked away and then back again. "Submit and accept your fate tonight."

I swallowed back tears. "I need... I need relief... Please," I looked up at him, face warm as I spoke. "Master."

Yes, I saw the way that fire burned when I addressed him that way, it made my breath feel thin and awkward. I wanted to see that wild look when he was finally stroking me to completion, wanted to see it while he was whipping me again, hurting me, forcing me beneath him. It was both a submissive and demanding, desperate feeling.  It could not end here.

"You speak sweetly, but your words will get you nowhere." He kneeled in front of me and reached out, deft fingers beginning to untie me.

"Why?" I breathed out the question, desperately struggling against the ropes, not to free myself but to stop him from releasing me, fearing innately that it would act as a full stop to the conversation. "I did everything you asked!" I insisted.

He nodded, my hands freed, my arms hurt, especially my shoulders and wrists ached, blood flowing properly back into my hands caused my fingers to tingle. His look was intense as he drew my hands out in front of me.

"You did. Good boy." He said softly, moving seamlessly to massage my wrists with perfect pressure.

My heart felt overwhelmed for a moment. I watched him with wide eyes as I battled the flood of feelings threatening to drown me. Warmth, giddiness, humiliation, unalloyed joy.