Page 52 of Their Ruthless Sadist

His eyes shot to the bell. Once he got a good look at it, I tucked it into his right hand. It was small, but loud enough to be effective.

“Should you need to stop the scene, ring it. But it better be because you’re bleeding or about to lose a limb.” I shot him a malevolent grin. “If I hear that bell for any other reason, you will be punished. So I suggest you don’t drop it.”

His eyes were already glazing over, his desire evident. “Yes, Zeke.”

I’d noticed the pretty boy had been quiet for most of the morning. While he had engaged with my sister, he hadn’t spoken directly to me. I couldn’t quite read his body language yet, but I didn’t peg him for the strong, silent type. Which meant he was likely adjusting to his new surroundings, attempting to figure out what I had in store for him.

I left him cuffed to the wall while I retrieved the other items I needed for him.

“Since the day I met you, I’ve thought about this,” I told him as I held up the thick, stainless-steel ring. “Do you know what it is?”

“A cock ring,” the pretty boy said, his breaths coming in a little faster.

“It’s called a crown of thorns,” I explained, holding it there so he could admire. “Each of these little screws has a point on it. Once it’s in place, I’ll show you what it feels like.”

A minute later, I was working the steel ring over the head of his cock. It took a minute to get it in place because he was already semi-hard. This was a particularly fun toy to play with. The steel circle had six holes drilled through, where tiny, pointed screws were threaded, the sharp ends providing a similar sensation to the parachute harness I’d used last night. Only this was applied directly to his cock, just beneath the head. The pinpricks would stimulate the nerves in his dick, enhancing his torture.

“Relax,” I instructed. “Think about algebra because I need you soft for a minute.”

“Not sure I can do that, Zeke,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re touching my dick and … well, that kinda does it for me.”

I chuckled at his honesty. Even in a situation like this, the pretty boy kept his wits. He would be fun to play with.

Knowing I wouldn’t have much time before he was rock hard, I worked the ring in place with lube, ensuring it was secure. The metal thorns were currently retracted, so he wouldn’t feel them yet; however, the weight of the ring would be enough to keep his attention.

When I stood to my full height, I held up the small hex key that was used to tighten the screws. “Hold this for a minute.” I placed it between his teeth. “Don’t drop it.”

I headed back into the closet to get the last item I would use to torture the pretty boy with. I was coming out when I heard footsteps on the stairs. The cowboy appeared, his hair still wet from his shower. His eyes went wide when he noticed the pretty boy already chained to the wall.

“Strip and then come here,” I commanded as I made my way back to the pretty boy.

A minute later, the cowboy was by my side, both of us admiring my handiwork.

“He does make quite the art piece, huh?” I said casually.

“That he does,” the cowboy confirmed.

Admittedly, the pretty boy was damn nice to look at. Thick and muscular, his body was meant to be on display. The way his biceps bunched as he shifted his arms, his thick thighs flexed when he attempted to shift his weight. I could probably stand there and look at him all damn day. From the alluring lines of his body to his sinfully beautiful cock.

“Tease his nipples until they’re hard,” I instructed the cowboy. “With your fingers, then your mouth.”

“Yes, Zeke,” the cowboy said obediently.

I stepped back and watched as the cowboy moved closer. Their eyes met, and I could see the desire they ignited in one another. I was curious as to how two masochists had ended up together, but when I looked at them, it seemed rather obvious. They had a distinct physical attraction to one another, but there was something more. A connection.

The cowboy’s fingers plucked the pretty boy’s nipples as they stared back at one another. I found I liked that they had a connection. It meant scenes such as this one would have more of an impact on both of them. BDSM was as much mental as it was physical. Being that they cared about one another, they would likely have issues with the other being taken by a man like me. The concern for the other’s well-being would be pivotal in the outcome.

The cowboy touched with the care of someone who knew what his partner enjoyed. He didn’t hesitate to apply the necessary pain to get the pretty boy groaning in earnest. He wasn’t rough, and he didn’t tweak the pretty boy’s nipples the way I would have, but he was getting the job done.

When he leaned forward and bit the pretty boy’s nipple, my cock hardened. Strangely, I enjoyed watching one give the other pain. It was an aphrodisiac. Not quite as rewarding as doing it myself, but I could get used to this.

I gave them a minute before I stepped in.

With the precision of a man who was familiar with his own toys, I hooked the nipple clamps to the pretty boy, ensuring they were secured. These weren’t the cheap little tweezer clamps that would fall off. These were stainless-steel nipple vises. Exactly what the pretty boy needed.

I watched his face as I checked the grips, his protruding nipple clamped securely between the small vise, paying close attention to his responses.

“Does it hurt?”