Title: Pierced, Prompt 64-Agony, Horatio Caine/Timothy Speedle, CS Miami, FRAO
Horatio couldn’t move.
But then that was the point.
Nostrils flared, he fought to breathe past the gag that had been forced into his mouth, his teeth biting hard into the broad leather phallus that touched the very back of his throat and threatened to choke him as the strap that held it in place cut cruelly around the nape of his neck.
The crack of a slender cane snapping down on bare flesh sounded loud and sharp in the room.
He flinched, the burning rush of raw, explosive heat slashing across his inner thighs.
He wanted to scream but could manage no more than a muffled groan as the pain worked its way upward through his body to explode behind his eyes.
He could remember waking up, still lying face down over the bed, smelling the musky scent of sex on the sheets and pillows. His tormentor had been sat in an armchair by the window, calmly reading a book in the afternoon sunlight.
When Christella appeared silently bearing a lunch tray, he’d been told he was free to eat his fill as reward for having said ‘please’ so very nicely, and yet when he’d struggled to move, Horatio found the shame of what he’d done seemed to cripple every muscle he possessed and any thought of hunger evaporated away with the humiliation that cramped at his stomach.
Still he remained naked, and still he was chained; a prisoner regardless of his captor’s gentle touch encouraging him to sit up, fluffing the pillows, making him comfortable. He’d taken the first forkful of pasta salad that Speed fed to him, sorely tempted to spit it back at the smiling face he knew so very well, but some instinctive reflex made him swallow before he could stop himself, and when a clear plastic straw was urged between his teeth he’d drunk an entire glass of orange juice so fast it made him cough.
He hadn’t wanted to take anything he was offered, yet he’d sucked on that slim little tube as though life itself depended on it.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?”
Again and again the cane whipped unremittingly at his flesh.
It was his punishment for saying no.
Though he tugged in futile desperation at the chain between his wrists, it had been drawn up tight, secured to the bed frame, stretching his arms above his head, pulling at his shoulders.
A long metal bar, clipped at each end to the cuffs on his ankles, kept his legs spread unnaturally wide, but what truly prevented him from squirming and wriggling away was that the bar had then been raised high enough to almost straighten his legs, and was slotted into the posts at the end of the bed. A pillow under his hips relieved something of the pressure on his spine, but while it didn’t eliminate it altogether it made any thought of resistance, impossible.
Horatio knew without having to be told, that he’d brought this upon himself; he’d just been too physically exhausted to try and stop it happening, although he’d fought harder against being gagged than he had the very first time it was done. While Speed just stood there watching, smiling down at him graciously from between his own rudely splayed legs as the initial panic subsided.
“You will learn to show me gratitude for taking such good care of you,” he’d said smugly, “and you’ll thank me each time I fill you with my cock, or permit you the privilege of climax.”
But what began as the tender touch of warm fingers fluttering over his thighs, had rapidly built to a searing white heat as he was thrashed without mercy.
Tears streamed helplessly down his cheeks as he was forced to endure it; his mind seeking refuge from the pain on a deserted golden beach where pure, clear blue water lapped against the shore in a soothing, timeless caress.
When the beating was finally over, he didn’t want to leave that distant shore, and it was in a strangely confused daze that he felt something cold press against his exposed anus, stretching him open.
Eyes wide with surprise and shock, he craned his neck, shaking his head in objection as the aching crater of his sphincter muscle suffered further rape, but it wasn’t a cock inside him, it was something else, something that seemed to expand, preventing him from bearing down to expel it, and he shuddered as the pressure on his bladder started to increase, with no apparent way to stop it.
Noting the confusion on his slave’s anguished face, Speed held up a small pump attached to a rubber hose like the balloon end of a blood pressure cuff. When he squeezed it, the device inside Horatio expanded a little further.
“I know how much you’d prefer the real thing, but a plug will have to suffice for now,” he explained. “It should give you something to enjoy while I go do a little business.”
And the redhead gave a despairing groan as he was left lying there chained, spread, plugged and gagged to await his master’s further pleasure.
But it was getting dark when next he opened his eyes.
He had no idea how the hell he could’ve fallen asleep, or even if he’d been asleep to begin with. It was impossible to tell.
“There you are,” Speed mocked, and Horatio shuddered as he felt the butt plug suddenly expand again inside him.
Fingers worked their way down his thighs, massaging in hard insistent circles, reigniting his already tender skin, but his legs felt stiff and heavy, immobile after being raised so abnormally high for so long. He tried to wriggle his toes and flex his ankles, not really feeling them, and not entirely sure if his body was able to respond any more to anything he might ask of it.
Instead, he closed his eyes, wanting only to dream again, to be anywhere but on that bed with his freedoms entirely denied.
“I have something for you.”
His captor sat down beside him and unfastened the gag, easing the leather phallus from between his lips before splashing a little cold water into his mouth from a bottle of chilled Evian.
Horatio gulped it down, struggling not to choke at the urge to draw deep and unrestricted breaths. His jaw ached so badly it was all he could do to just swallow without whining in pain.
Speed cupped his slave’s face in both hands, drawing his thumbs over those elegantly freckled cheekbones.
“Look at me,” he purred, leaning over him closely. “Open those beautiful eyes.”
And against his better judgment the redhead did as he was told, finding himself the focus of a dark and devilish gaze so intense it cut straight through his heart.
“I’m going to pierce you.”
Horatio tried to shake his head but was being held too tightly.
“It’s going to hurt, but if you fight against me I can promise you it’ll be a whole lot worse.”
From a small white tray on the side table, he took a foil wrapped sachet and tore it open, pulling out a folded alcohol wipe that released a distinctively clean smell into the room when he unfurled it, triggering memories for Horatio of disinfecting his lab at CSI…
Speed knew his every move was being scrutinized and he wondered whether the curious nature of his slave’s former life might try to exert itself in compensation for the very obvious fear that already had him panting in anticipation of the needle. He could feel Horatio’s rapidly rising heart beat pounding through his chest as he carefully wiped the cold wet cloth over his skin, but the alcohol solution had a nasty sting on sensitive flesh and the redhead hissed as it quickly tightened his nipples into hard jutting points.
“Please don’t do this,” he whispered hoarsely, but his captor wasn’t listening.
He pinched the tip of Horatio’s left nipple between the prongs of a pair of tweezers, pulling it upward, stretching the darkly flushed tissue before setting the needle point at just the right spot.
“Stay still.”
“Please! Please don’t!” He didn’t want this, but even begging wouldn’t stop it.
With one sure move, Speed pushed the needle straight into his slave’s nipple, winning himself an unadulterated shriek of pure agony for his efforts as he quickly fastened the small gold hoop that was drawn through behind the initial piercing. Dabbing up the blood, he listened to Horatio’s sobbing breaths for a moment before scooting around the bed and repeating the process on his right nipple, as efficient as any doctor placing an intravenous cannula.
Another shout tore from the redhead’s already sorely abused throat, and he yanked at the cuffs that bound his wrists so securely, his violated body overloading on levels of pain he could no longer rationalize.
He had very little memory of what actually happened when he’d had a piercing put through his cock. He’d been quite blessedly drunk at the time, and not really appreciated the full impact of what he’d done until the next morning, when he’d had more than just a hangover to contend with for a while, much to the amusement of his classmates.
Speed gently wiped the tears from his face. “You look wonderful,” he said softly, almost sounding proud of him. “The blue stones on each hoop match the color of your eyes.”
Horatio managed to shift his neck and glanced down to see the jewelry for himself, wanting to believe that perhaps it wouldn’t have cost him such agony if it hadn’t been forced upon him.
“Do you expect me to say thank you?” he asked, hearing himself sound ridiculously timid.
Speed chuckled lightly as he got up to dispose of the contaminated sharps in a small sealed bag. “Do you think it would please me if you did?”
“Fuck you.”
Somewhere in the furthest regions of his pain fogged mind, Horatio was astonished to find he’d said that out loud, but he was too far gone on adrenaline and shock to actually give a damn for such defiance.
He was a Caine after all.
Such stubbornness was in his genes.
Speed allowed the butt plug to deflate, and then pulled it from his slave’s prone body with a vicious tug that made the redhead wince.
“I’ve never shrunk from a challenge,” he replied simply, dropping his pants with a casual gesture and kicking them aside. It only took a moment to bring himself to full hardness but he enjoyed knowing that Horatio was watching him do it. “I’ve been wanting to fuck YOU all afternoon,” he smirked, stepping between his slave’s legs, bending forward to keep from hitting his head and shoulders on the ankle bar. “Just knowing you were here like this, spread wide and waiting for my cock.” He sank balls deep into Horatio’s freshly stretched hole with a long sigh of pleasure, bracing his hands on either side of the redhead’s heaving chest as he pumped his hips hard and fast. “I don’t expect you to enjoy this,” he panted, his face flushed with arousal, his eyes dark with lust.
And it was true.
All Horatio could do was lie there beneath him as he was brutally fucked into the mattress, his body simply too shattered to respond to even the most knowing or most insidious of touches. This wasn’t about giving him pleasure. He knew that. There was no lesson here, no demand that he beg or plead.
If he did, it would simply have been a waste of breath.
This was about Speed’s pleasure; his focus fixed entirely on achieving in his own orgasm as he drove savagely in and out of his slave’s pliant body, before finally spilling his seed with a triumphant shout.
Catching his breath, he paused for a moment, his tongue flickering out to toy with the piercing in Horatio’s left nipple, pulling feeble whimpers from his weakly thrashing slave.
“This,” he said firmly, pushing into him just a fraction more, “would be the right time for you to thank me."
But then that was the point.
Nostrils flared, he fought to breathe past the gag that had been forced into his mouth, his teeth biting hard into the broad leather phallus that touched the very back of his throat and threatened to choke him as the strap that held it in place cut cruelly around the nape of his neck.
The crack of a slender cane snapping down on bare flesh sounded loud and sharp in the room.
He flinched, the burning rush of raw, explosive heat slashing across his inner thighs.
He wanted to scream but could manage no more than a muffled groan as the pain worked its way upward through his body to explode behind his eyes.
He could remember waking up, still lying face down over the bed, smelling the musky scent of sex on the sheets and pillows. His tormentor had been sat in an armchair by the window, calmly reading a book in the afternoon sunlight.
When Christella appeared silently bearing a lunch tray, he’d been told he was free to eat his fill as reward for having said ‘please’ so very nicely, and yet when he’d struggled to move, Horatio found the shame of what he’d done seemed to cripple every muscle he possessed and any thought of hunger evaporated away with the humiliation that cramped at his stomach.
Still he remained naked, and still he was chained; a prisoner regardless of his captor’s gentle touch encouraging him to sit up, fluffing the pillows, making him comfortable. He’d taken the first forkful of pasta salad that Speed fed to him, sorely tempted to spit it back at the smiling face he knew so very well, but some instinctive reflex made him swallow before he could stop himself, and when a clear plastic straw was urged between his teeth he’d drunk an entire glass of orange juice so fast it made him cough.
He hadn’t wanted to take anything he was offered, yet he’d sucked on that slim little tube as though life itself depended on it.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?”
Again and again the cane whipped unremittingly at his flesh.
It was his punishment for saying no.
Though he tugged in futile desperation at the chain between his wrists, it had been drawn up tight, secured to the bed frame, stretching his arms above his head, pulling at his shoulders.
A long metal bar, clipped at each end to the cuffs on his ankles, kept his legs spread unnaturally wide, but what truly prevented him from squirming and wriggling away was that the bar had then been raised high enough to almost straighten his legs, and was slotted into the posts at the end of the bed. A pillow under his hips relieved something of the pressure on his spine, but while it didn’t eliminate it altogether it made any thought of resistance, impossible.
Horatio knew without having to be told, that he’d brought this upon himself; he’d just been too physically exhausted to try and stop it happening, although he’d fought harder against being gagged than he had the very first time it was done. While Speed just stood there watching, smiling down at him graciously from between his own rudely splayed legs as the initial panic subsided.
“You will learn to show me gratitude for taking such good care of you,” he’d said smugly, “and you’ll thank me each time I fill you with my cock, or permit you the privilege of climax.”
But what began as the tender touch of warm fingers fluttering over his thighs, had rapidly built to a searing white heat as he was thrashed without mercy.
Tears streamed helplessly down his cheeks as he was forced to endure it; his mind seeking refuge from the pain on a deserted golden beach where pure, clear blue water lapped against the shore in a soothing, timeless caress.
When the beating was finally over, he didn’t want to leave that distant shore, and it was in a strangely confused daze that he felt something cold press against his exposed anus, stretching him open.
Eyes wide with surprise and shock, he craned his neck, shaking his head in objection as the aching crater of his sphincter muscle suffered further rape, but it wasn’t a cock inside him, it was something else, something that seemed to expand, preventing him from bearing down to expel it, and he shuddered as the pressure on his bladder started to increase, with no apparent way to stop it.
Noting the confusion on his slave’s anguished face, Speed held up a small pump attached to a rubber hose like the balloon end of a blood pressure cuff. When he squeezed it, the device inside Horatio expanded a little further.
“I know how much you’d prefer the real thing, but a plug will have to suffice for now,” he explained. “It should give you something to enjoy while I go do a little business.”
And the redhead gave a despairing groan as he was left lying there chained, spread, plugged and gagged to await his master’s further pleasure.
But it was getting dark when next he opened his eyes.
He had no idea how the hell he could’ve fallen asleep, or even if he’d been asleep to begin with. It was impossible to tell.
“There you are,” Speed mocked, and Horatio shuddered as he felt the butt plug suddenly expand again inside him.
Fingers worked their way down his thighs, massaging in hard insistent circles, reigniting his already tender skin, but his legs felt stiff and heavy, immobile after being raised so abnormally high for so long. He tried to wriggle his toes and flex his ankles, not really feeling them, and not entirely sure if his body was able to respond any more to anything he might ask of it.
Instead, he closed his eyes, wanting only to dream again, to be anywhere but on that bed with his freedoms entirely denied.
“I have something for you.”
His captor sat down beside him and unfastened the gag, easing the leather phallus from between his lips before splashing a little cold water into his mouth from a bottle of chilled Evian.
Horatio gulped it down, struggling not to choke at the urge to draw deep and unrestricted breaths. His jaw ached so badly it was all he could do to just swallow without whining in pain.
Speed cupped his slave’s face in both hands, drawing his thumbs over those elegantly freckled cheekbones.
“Look at me,” he purred, leaning over him closely. “Open those beautiful eyes.”
And against his better judgment the redhead did as he was told, finding himself the focus of a dark and devilish gaze so intense it cut straight through his heart.
“I’m going to pierce you.”
Horatio tried to shake his head but was being held too tightly.
“It’s going to hurt, but if you fight against me I can promise you it’ll be a whole lot worse.”
From a small white tray on the side table, he took a foil wrapped sachet and tore it open, pulling out a folded alcohol wipe that released a distinctively clean smell into the room when he unfurled it, triggering memories for Horatio of disinfecting his lab at CSI…
Speed knew his every move was being scrutinized and he wondered whether the curious nature of his slave’s former life might try to exert itself in compensation for the very obvious fear that already had him panting in anticipation of the needle. He could feel Horatio’s rapidly rising heart beat pounding through his chest as he carefully wiped the cold wet cloth over his skin, but the alcohol solution had a nasty sting on sensitive flesh and the redhead hissed as it quickly tightened his nipples into hard jutting points.
“Please don’t do this,” he whispered hoarsely, but his captor wasn’t listening.
He pinched the tip of Horatio’s left nipple between the prongs of a pair of tweezers, pulling it upward, stretching the darkly flushed tissue before setting the needle point at just the right spot.
“Stay still.”
“Please! Please don’t!” He didn’t want this, but even begging wouldn’t stop it.
With one sure move, Speed pushed the needle straight into his slave’s nipple, winning himself an unadulterated shriek of pure agony for his efforts as he quickly fastened the small gold hoop that was drawn through behind the initial piercing. Dabbing up the blood, he listened to Horatio’s sobbing breaths for a moment before scooting around the bed and repeating the process on his right nipple, as efficient as any doctor placing an intravenous cannula.
Another shout tore from the redhead’s already sorely abused throat, and he yanked at the cuffs that bound his wrists so securely, his violated body overloading on levels of pain he could no longer rationalize.
He had very little memory of what actually happened when he’d had a piercing put through his cock. He’d been quite blessedly drunk at the time, and not really appreciated the full impact of what he’d done until the next morning, when he’d had more than just a hangover to contend with for a while, much to the amusement of his classmates.
Speed gently wiped the tears from his face. “You look wonderful,” he said softly, almost sounding proud of him. “The blue stones on each hoop match the color of your eyes.”
Horatio managed to shift his neck and glanced down to see the jewelry for himself, wanting to believe that perhaps it wouldn’t have cost him such agony if it hadn’t been forced upon him.
“Do you expect me to say thank you?” he asked, hearing himself sound ridiculously timid.
Speed chuckled lightly as he got up to dispose of the contaminated sharps in a small sealed bag. “Do you think it would please me if you did?”
“Fuck you.”
Somewhere in the furthest regions of his pain fogged mind, Horatio was astonished to find he’d said that out loud, but he was too far gone on adrenaline and shock to actually give a damn for such defiance.
He was a Caine after all.
Such stubbornness was in his genes.
Speed allowed the butt plug to deflate, and then pulled it from his slave’s prone body with a vicious tug that made the redhead wince.
“I’ve never shrunk from a challenge,” he replied simply, dropping his pants with a casual gesture and kicking them aside. It only took a moment to bring himself to full hardness but he enjoyed knowing that Horatio was watching him do it. “I’ve been wanting to fuck YOU all afternoon,” he smirked, stepping between his slave’s legs, bending forward to keep from hitting his head and shoulders on the ankle bar. “Just knowing you were here like this, spread wide and waiting for my cock.” He sank balls deep into Horatio’s freshly stretched hole with a long sigh of pleasure, bracing his hands on either side of the redhead’s heaving chest as he pumped his hips hard and fast. “I don’t expect you to enjoy this,” he panted, his face flushed with arousal, his eyes dark with lust.
And it was true.
All Horatio could do was lie there beneath him as he was brutally fucked into the mattress, his body simply too shattered to respond to even the most knowing or most insidious of touches. This wasn’t about giving him pleasure. He knew that. There was no lesson here, no demand that he beg or plead.
If he did, it would simply have been a waste of breath.
This was about Speed’s pleasure; his focus fixed entirely on achieving in his own orgasm as he drove savagely in and out of his slave’s pliant body, before finally spilling his seed with a triumphant shout.
Catching his breath, he paused for a moment, his tongue flickering out to toy with the piercing in Horatio’s left nipple, pulling feeble whimpers from his weakly thrashing slave.
“This,” he said firmly, pushing into him just a fraction more, “would be the right time for you to thank me."