Catch the Thunder

A Paddle For Two

Audio drama: http://chirb.it/JxN3tO

Introducing, the Punishing Bench:  https://www.extremerestraints.com/dungeon-furniture_18/the-punishing-bench_2091.html

***

Freed knew he was on the stage. He knew there was an audience out there somewhere. He heard conversations scattered around. He was naked in front of all of them, yet he could do nothing. Blindfolded, gagged, collared, his cock caged up, he was utterly dependent on Laxus, totally at his mercy.

He honestly was not sure how much mercy the Thunder God would show him.

"Most of you know me," Laxus began, sounding a bit bored.

Freed heard his voice being amplified. Of course, he was giving no normal demonstration to the small crowd of a kink club. This was an exhibition, and the audience was massive. He needed the microphone.

"However, you don't know these two."

Wait ... two? Two? What the hell did he mean by two? Who else?

"This is a volunteer. Get up here, bitch."

"Yes, master."

Freed let out a muted cry of protest, wishing he could scream around the ball gag, but Laxus scolded her right away.

"Don't call me master."

He felt glad that Laxus warned her. Laxus often said he wanted and needed only one slave, and Freed was rather proud of being that person. He did not want to share the exclusivity of being Laxus' slave. He turned his head in the direction of the voice. It was familiar. He had just heard that voice tonight.

"She's a pain whore," he said. "But this?"

Freed was yanked forward, almost stumbled, and suddenly felt Laxus' arms around him, hugging him from behind.

"This is mine," Laxus said, his arms tight around Freed.

His! Freed felt himself blush at heard Laxus claim him, and in front of everyone.

"He's an angel," Laxus said in amusement, caressing the feathery wings attached to the harness. "He's delicate."

Freed wanted to protest. Sure, he might not like extreme BDSM, but he was anything but delicate. However, the gag in his mouth made his "Hey!" come out in a comical garble.

"Yes, this one..."

A hand was on him. Large, hot, rough. Laxus was stroking him, straight down his body, down to the imprisoned cock, brushing over the gilded cage. Freed stiffened at the caress to that area.

"He's sensitive."

Shit, it felt good! And in front of everyone! He was being fondled in front of hundreds! Freed felt himself shivering at the humility. That shame aroused him, his whole body went rigid, yet his erection was smashed down by the gold cage. He could not rise like he naturally wanted to do, and that hurt.

Just as he was about to snap a protest, Laxus stepped away from him, and Freed felt like he had been left to stand on the edge of a pirate's ship blank with sharks down below. He was facing the audience, naked, blind, mute, and Laxus was not there to hold him. He was afraid if he took a single step, he might fall off the stage. He did not know how close he was to the edge, but he felt he must be very close to the gathered audience.

And naked! Everyone could see him! He even heard someone whisper, "I like his cock cage. So elegant." Shit! They were all staring at him. Naked! On display!