Losers: Part II

If love languages were a thing, then mine was a language centered around food. My mom had always been a passionate cook, so I attributed my appreciation of it to her. There was a lot of love in a home-cooked meal, and it really didn’t matter how simple or complex a recipe was. Even the simplest dish could be elevated if it was made with care.

The fact that Jess had cooked for all of us gave me a massive heap of fuzzy feelings. Since I always slept in so late, breakfast wasn’t usually on the menu for me. But the big plate of syrup-covered pancakes she set in front of me made me reconsider always skipping the first meal of the day.

Jason and Lucas cleaned up the dishes once we’d finished eating. From my comfortable spot on the couch, I could hear them arguing over the clatter of dishware, their voices rising with increasingly potent threats and taunts. It made me snicker, getting the attention of Manson and Jess as they snuggled on the other end of the couch.

“I think those two need to fuck it out,” Jess said, surprising us enough that Manson burst into laughter.

“I agree with you,” I said. “But when Jason wants a particular reaction, he’s going to keep pushing until he gets it.”

Manson shook his head. “These damn brats and their terrible communication methods.”

Jess looked like she was winding herself up to protest that assessment. Lucky for her, Jason came out of the kitchen just then, and spoke up before she could.

“That was a damn good morning, Jess,” he said, leaning over the back of the couch to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Are you down to go for a run with me? I’m going to fall into a food coma if I don’t get some blood flowing.”

“She’ll be staying with us,” I said. “After all, she still has duties to fulfil for her master.” Jess gave me a wide-eyed expression, and I grinned when she turned those beautiful eyes toward Manson.

“I’d hate to neglect my duties,” she said with such a sweetly demure look that I could barely resist snatching her off his lap for my own nefarious purposes.

But I’d made Manson a promise that I’d handle things today. Not that there was anything particularly serious to be in charge of; we were on vacation after all. It was symbolic power more than anything else. Manson needed a way to convince his brain to chill, and I’d do whatever I could to give him that.

We weren’t at our best when one of us was struggling, but we wouldn’t let each other struggle alone.

“Suit yourself,” Jason said. “I guess you’ll be hanging around today, huh?”

Lucas came out of the kitchen, wiping his damp hands on a towel that he twisted up and snapped toward Jason’s ass.

“How about you leave the terrible puns to Vincent,” he said, when Jason yelped and leapt back from the towel’s bite. “Stick to being our resident gym brat.”

Jason rolled his eyes as he rubbed his ass. “Pretty sure this gym brat can lift more than you can.”

“I don’t care what you can lift, buddy,” Lucas said. “I only care how fast you can run. Come on. You want to go for a jog, I’ll go with you.”

“All right, you’re on. Let me get my shoes.”

They were still taunting each other when the front door slammed behind them a few minutes later. Manson groaned contentedly, leaning his head back on the couch as he snuggled Jess closer. She trailed her fingers over his bare chest, tracing the tattoos he had inked there. She followed the lines of his collarbone, then went lower, her fingers lingering on the small patch of dark hair low on his belly.

Watching her gentle touches gave me shivers, especially when she started kissing her way down his chest.

“Enjoying yourself, baby?” I said, and she nodded her head. Manson’s eyes were still closed, his entire body relaxed — except for the tension straining in his sweatpants. His eyes opened briefly when I got up off the couch, and I said, “Keep making him feel good. I’ll be right back.”

My supplies were packed away in my bag, so I went to the bedroom to grab them. I was generally a pretty goofy guy, but when it came to bondage, I took it seriously. Obviously, I’d still do it all with a smile, and I couldn’t resist cracking a good joke. But some things were far too important to be lax about.

Being a rigger had, in many ways, forced me to mature. I’d developed an interest in rope early, and I’d been lucky enough as an adult to meet people with far more experience than I had, people who were willing to teach me and put me on the right path.

Typically, I cringed away from anything I had to take too seriously, but this was different. Bondage could be subversive, it could be healing. Playing with power dynamics and control could be the most freeing thing some people would ever do.

I grabbed my duffel bag from the bedroom and returned to find Jess and Manson had moved to the floor. He was lying on his stomach, his arms folded beneath his head as Jess scratched her nails soothingly along his back. He looked like he could fall asleep at any moment, which was perfect. I wouldn’t be doing a damned thing unless he felt calm enough.

Jess lifted her head curiously as I unpacked my supplies. I had several long coils of well-used hemp rope, as well as a few shorter lengths. I also had a pair of EMT sheers, a backup cutter that I left in my bag, and a first-aid kit.

When I looked up, Manson had opened his eyes and Jess looked excited. “Am I getting tied up today?” she said.

“I am,” Manson said, and she looked down at him in surprise.

“The rope is for you?” she said. “But your list said restraints on yourself were a limit.”

He nodded, pushing himself up to a sitting position. “They’re a soft limit.”

“Perhaps more of a medium firm limit,” I said, and he grinned. “Manson doesn’t get off on being restrained like you do, Jess. It’s a platonic interest.” I stood, uncoiling the rope. “Why don’t you undress him, baby?”

She didn’t have to be told twice. He didn’t have much on to begin with, but she pulled his sweatpants off him, kissing and caressing him as she did. She paused before taking off his briefs, a question in her expression.

“You can leave the underwear on,” he said. “Vince doesn’t need my giant dick swinging in his face.”

“That’s exactly the kind of environment I thrive in,” I said. “Or have you forgotten who I’m usually tying up?”

“Fair point.” Manson inhaled deeply, holding it for a moment. His shoulders were tight with tension and I grasped one of them.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” I said. “Nothing happens until you say.”

He still had control; I needed to remind him of that. It wouldn’t help for me to suggest he stay calm, or relax, or any other advice regarding his feelings. How he felt was personal; it wasn’t up to me to decide that. I could only provide him with the environment to explore it safely.

He needed the opportunity to feel however he needed to, without worrying about how it would affect other people. It wasn’t about me, or Jess, or anyone else. It was about him, and for a man who liked to be called a God, he wasn’t nearly selfish enough.

Jess spoke to him softly. “Are you scared?”

“Not scared. Not exactly.” He took a long look at the rope, as if it was an unwanted companion he was trying to be polite with. But slowly, after several deep breaths, the tension on his face melted away.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”

Art couldn’t be rushed, and rope was no different. I had to know the body I was working with. I had to know pressure points, nerves, arteries. I had to know my supplies too, the strength of my rope, the density, the pressure. Every knot was made with purpose.

Kneeling behind Manson, I took my time as I pulled the ropes taut around his chest. Jess sat in front of him, cross-legged, her hands on his legs. He kept his eyes closed, at first; taking slow breaths in a timed cadence. I bound his arms behind his back, arranging the ropes around his chest like a harness.

Every loop around his chest was like a hug, slowly crushing all that anxiety and tension out of his body. At least, that was the way I preferred to think of it. If I wasn’t so focused, I would have been more talkative, but that was why I needed Jess there. While I was tying him, she kept Manson engaged in conversation.

“Have you let him tie you up before?” she said. She kept touching him, and I wasn’t sure if she realized how much it was grounding him. I noticed, but I’d also been around Manson enough that I could pick out his little tells: the way his breath got a bit shorter and faster, how the tightness in his muscles relaxed.

“A few times,” he said. “I let him practice on me when he was learning.”

“Did it scare you then, too?”

Manson made a soft sound, something between a scoff and a growl. “I never said I was scared, angel.”

“I know,” she said. “You didn’t have to say so.”

He shifted a bit, and I paused. “Too tight?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. You’re good. Jess keeps giving me goosebumps with her nails and I’m hard as a fucking rock, so…gotta adjust a bit.”

I snickered. “She’s going to have to do something about that soon.” I peered at Jess over his shoulder. “Why don’t you go rummage around in my bag? See if you find anything in there you’d like.”

She gave Manson a slow, ridiculously sexy kiss before she leapt to her feet and dashed over to the bag.

“Holy shit, you brought so many toys!” she said when she saw all the goodies I had packed away. “How did I have no idea you brought all this?”

“I tend to come overprepared,” I said. “I may not end up using 90% of the shit I packed, but I still want to have it just in case. It’s the worst when you go on vacation and realize halfway through that you forgot your favorite paddle, or didn’t pack enough butt plugs.”

“Or the time you and Jason went camping and you forgot the poppers,” Manson added. His eyes were still closed, but he smiled as he reminded me.

“My point exactly,” I said. “Never be caught unprepared. Always pack your poppers.”

As Jess continued to hunt for toys, I completed my last knot. It wasn’t as restrictive or as extensive as the ties I usually liked to do. But the point wasn’t to construct an elaborate predicament of bondage. I gripped my hand around the nape of his neck, and he leaned into me, stretching his back and rolling his shoulders.

“How does that feel?” I said.

“Good,” he said quietly. “It feels good. It’s tight.” He took another deep breath, and I rubbed my hands across his shoulders, stimulating the circulation in his back and arms. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” I said. “I enjoy this too, you know. It’s like meditation.”

Tying someone up didn’t have to be a purely sexual experience, or even an arousing one. Sometimes, it was simply intimate. It was another way I could connect with the people I was close to, a way that didn’t require words. The process of creation, of making something out of essentially nothing, was such a vulnerable act. Rarely did the recipient of that creation, the observer, have the opportunity to be vulnerable as well.

But with rope, every participant had that opportunity, whether they were tying, being tied, or observing.

I stood Manson up, walking him over to one of the two square wooden columns supporting the vaulted ceiling. Pushing him back against the column, I said, “Stand there, and don’t move. Keep your head up.”

His gaze was as hard as steel when he met my eyes. Defiant, as if he wanted to be sure I knew he was only doing it because he wanted to, not because I’d told him. Which was fine with me; this was by no means a power trip.

“Find anything you like?” I said, glancing back at Jess as I used another length of rope to bind Manson to the column. I secured his ankles, tightly, slightly spread, enough to maintain that feeling of vulnerability in his position.

“Yes, sir,” she said, and I paused to have a look at what she’d chosen. She was holding a vibrator and a string of anal beads. The beads swung from her hand as she came closer.

Now that Manson was fully restrained, I stood up and drew Jess close to me, examining the toys she selected. Manson watched us, his hard-on rather comically obvious.

“Not too bad a predicament for a voyeur,” I said, unable to resist giving him a sardonic grin. “I’m going to make our fucktoy worship you, as she should. You won’t be able to touch her, of course.” I pulled her forward, so she was in front of me and close enough to touch his chest. Being the little tease that she was, of course she leaned against him, running her fingers along the ropes keeping him in place.

“My, my, how the tables have turned.” She giggled. I wrapped my hand around her throat, carefully pulling her head back toward me.

“Be careful,” I warned. “Manson left me in charge while he’s restrained. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’ll be lax.” I kissed her cheek, gently, before giving her ass a sharp smack. “Get your clothes off. Make him wish he could touch you.”

Putting on a show came naturally to her. She stripped as I stepped back to observe. Every inch of skin she revealed was stunning; it really didn’t matter how often I saw her naked, or how much we fucked. She took my breath away every time.

Once she was naked, she sank to her knees, leaning her head down to kiss his feet.

“Stay just like that, Jess,” I said. Picking up the vibrator, I flicked the switch to ON and knelt behind her, teasing the toy between her legs. She twitched when I ran it over her clit. “You’re already so wet, baby. Which part turned you on? Was it sucking off Lucas and Jason this morning, or watching your Master get tied up?”

“Both,” she said, her little giggle dissolving into a moan when I held the vibrator against her again. She lifted her head, just enough to look up at Manson as he gazed at her. She trailed her fingers up his legs, his hips, over his abdomen. He shivered as she did it, his eyes widening as she brought her mouth even with his cock. She kissed the head through the fabric of his underwear, with a question in her gaze. “May I use my mouth on you? Please?”

“Fuck…of course you can, angel.” Manson sucked in his breath as she pulled down his briefs and stroked her tongue over his head. Putting the vibrator aside for a moment, I picked up the anal beads and the bottle of lube.

“Focus on your Master,” I told her as I circled a lubricated finger around her back entrance. She groaned as I pressed inside, thrusting past that tight ring of muscle. I could only imagine how sore she was by now. It was day three and we’d barely stopped fucking since we got here.

“Do you like how that feels?” Manson said, and Jess whimpered as she nodded. After giving her a few moments to adjust to my finger, I inserted the beads instead. They started small, barely an effort to fit inside. But each bead was bigger than the last.

She gasped as I pressed the last bead inside. Her cheek rested against Manson’s thigh as she stroked his cock with her hand.

“Mm, that’s better. Fucktoys should always have their holes stuffed full, shouldn’t they?” I said softly.

“Yes, sir.” She gasped with pleasure, and I wrapped her hair around my hand, giving myself control of her head.

“Now, you’re going to serve Manson with your mouth. You’re going to do everything you can to focus on his pleasure. Is that understood?”

Manson’s breathing had quickened, his cock leaking precum that Jess eagerly lapped up.

“There you go, baby,” I said, easing her head down on his cock. “Keep your eyes on him, you’re doing so good.”

She gagged softly as he hit the back of her throat. But she quickly adjusted. The muscles in her neck tightened as she bobbed up and down on him, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked.

“Goddamn, look at you,” I said. I released her hair, allowing her to set the pace. Manson’s legs were soon trembling, his every breath slow and deep. I had no doubt he could control himself to make this last, but I did enjoy seeing him struggle.

“Good girl, Jess,” he said, tensing against the ropes as if he was instinctually reaching for her. He clenched his teeth, pressing his head back against the column. “Your mouth is fucking sinful. You feel so damn good.”

Jess was so aroused that she’d dripped on the floor. Picking up the vibrator again, I wrapped my arm around her front to hold it against her clit. At the same time, I squeezed two fingers into her pussy.

She moaned, grinding herself down on my fingers. I pumped them into her as she squeezed around me, her walls throbbing

“Please your Master first, Jess,” I said. “Then you can come, baby.”

She lifted her head, continuing to stroke him with her hand. “I understand, sir. All I want is Master’s cum.” She looked up at him, her expression so sweet and pleading. With a face like that, she could have anything she wanted.

She buried her mouth at the base of his cock, lapping her tongue over his balls. Manson’s entire body strained against the ropes; muscles clenching, his breath shuddering, limbs trembling.

“Fuck, Jess…” His teeth were clenched, but a strangled moan of ecstasy slipped out anyway. “That’s going to make me come, angel.”

“Please,” she said. “Come on my face.”

Manson came with a guttural cry, ribbons of cum streaking across her face. She smiled widely, mouth open, tongue extended. She swallowed every drop that landed on her tongue, she licked him from her lips. When he stilled, she kissed the head of his cock and whispered, “Thank you, Master.”

It was fucking impossible to resist her any longer.

Roughly, I shoved her down onto her back. She was still trying to catch her breath, legs shaking, her clit swollen. Cum was smeared across her face, her cheeks were pink, her skin so hot.

She was perfect. Beautiful beyond words.

“Don’t move,” I said. I stood over her, and she lay trembling as I stripped off my clothes. Manson looked dazed, as if he hadn’t fully come back to earth after that orgasm. I grabbed his face, giving it enough of a shake to bring some clarity back into his eyes. “Hey, hey, don’t go floating off in your head. You’re going to want to watch this.”

Sinking down over Jess, I pinned her to the floor with one hand around her throat. Her toes curled as I guided my cock into her. The beads were still inside her too, and I couldn’t wait to feel her break apart on my cock when she came.

Fully inside her, I picked up the vibrator again and clicked it to life. The moment I pressed the toy against her and thrust into her, her wide eyes rolled back.

“Oh my fucking God…” She gripped my arm, nails digging in. She growled the words like an animal, her body torn between pain and pleasure as I fucked her hard.

“You look gorgeous, Jess,” I said, curling over her, pushing her leg up for a deeper angle inside her. “Wet, needy, and covered in cum. Just how I like you. Filthy little thing.”

Her pussy convulsed around my cock, and she cried my name as she came. The sound of her sweet voice breaking tipped me over the edge. I came inside her, my vision blurring for a few perfect seconds as my body was gripped with ecstasy.