Free Powerless by Stella Notecor Page B

control.” David gave him another
hard swat on the left side. “Two—for fondling yourself.” A third impact landed
in the middle of his ass. “Three—for fondling yourself a second time.”
    So David had noticed his misbehavior earlier. His ass
burning, Mark wanted to regret it, but he couldn’t, not when it meant having
David’s attention focused solely on him.
    He rested his weight on his elbows, pulling his face out of
the bedspread. Would he be smacked again?
    The bed creaked and shifted. “Get up here.”
    Mark nodded and scrambled up onto the bed. He knelt, hands
resting at his sides, and waited.
    In the silence that ensued, every noise seemed twice as loud
as it should. David’s breath was harsh and heavy. The slightest movement by
either of them made the bed squeak madly. The quiet of the room convinced him
they were alone, as he heard nothing but their breathing and the bed. He
relaxed a little, letting his muscles unwind.
    Mark’s legs ached after a few minutes in the same position. He
tried to shift subtly, but the bedsprings gave his movement away.
    “Be still,” David snapped.
    He froze in place. While gaining David’s attention was
always good, displeasing him was a very bad idea. He had been forced to sleep
on the couch often enough to know what the impatient tone in his voice meant.
David never punished him without reason, but Mark hated having to be punished
at all.
    Forcing himself to remain still, Mark focused on what he
could hear. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. David’s breathing was a soft
echo compared to the loud hiss of his own. Each breath he took made his heart
race a little faster. His cock was still sore, but it was valiantly rising to
the occasion again.
    Whoosh! Mark twisted towards the noise and rush of air that
accompanied the air conditioner kicking on. The sudden movement left him off
balance, and he toppled onto his side.
    David laughed. Mark cringed and curled into a ball. God, he
was such a wimp. He squeezed his boob-ball. He should have expected the air to
kick on—he’d noticed the heat of the apartment before.
    David’s laughter trailed off, but Mark contemplated releasing
the boob. He didn’t enjoy being humiliated.
    A soft caress trailed down his exposed spine. “Sorry,” David
murmured. “I didn’t mean to laugh.” The bed creaked. A line of kisses traced
the path his hand had taken. “It startled me too.”
    Uncurling himself, Mark waited as the kisses moved from his
back to his arm. David mouthed apologies as he moved up his body until finally
he pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead.
    Humiliation was not part of their games. It never had been,
and it never would be. Years of being taunted by school bullies had destroyed
any chance of that. But David hadn’t minded when Mark nixed that aspect of
power-play.
    Mark let David roll him over onto his stomach. He could
touch the headboard with his fingertips, and as he shifted, his hand bumped
into one of their restraints. He grabbed it, eager to get on with the game and
move past his embarrassment.
    “Are you sure?”
    He nodded, and David shifted next to him, tugging the
restraint from his grasp. The rip of Velcro echoed in the room. David slid the
cuff around his wrist and tightened it. When he didn’t continue to the other
arm, Mark held up his boob-ball and squeezed it.
    “Alright, alright.”
    David strapped him down, making sure his arms and legs were
tightly secured. Then he climbed off the bed. Mark heard a creak he thought
belonged to a chair.
    Then David returned to the bed. “I bought you a present.”
Something brushed against his neck. “Drop your ball if it’s too much.” He slid
something over Mark’s head and covered his ears. Just like that, all the soft
sounds he had been able to hear before disappeared. His world narrowed down to
two senses: touch and smell.
    His hearing gone, Mark had to interpret the movements of the
bed to figure out what David was doing. The way the bed sunk