Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3 by Various Authors Read Free Book Online Page B

unusual room. Will had to wonder what thoughts were going through his mind about now. He brought Sinn down here by way of an intricate maze of pathways. There was a more direct route to the play area, but what was the fun in that? His finger hovered over one switch, then he flicked it sending the room into complete and utter darkness. He heard the guttural sounds emitting from Sinn. He could hear the sounds of his struggles, the rattle of the cuffs surrounding his wrists. He flipped on the infrared camera. Yes, he was fine, just a bit discomfited. Then Will walked away from the panel, slowing stripping, he entered the bathroom naked.
    He stepped beneath the shower spray, used the unscented soap and lathered his body up coating his hairless skin with the white foam, thinking about the man in the next room and what he had planned. It was all going just as he'd hoped. Truly, he'd never thought he'd get this far. But he'd planned, he'd trained, he'd researched. And now they were here.
    He soaped his cock, his balls, circled a hand over his groin. He couldn't help smiling to himself. He scrubbed his hair clean, then rinsed. They had both come a long way from Montana. Both had experiences that had forged their very different adult personalities.
    After a thorough cleansing, he stepped from the shower and toweled himself dry. Then he went to the closet. He pulled out the flowing white silk poet shirt, the tight black pants that left nothing to the imagination. He lifted a brand new pair of black leather gloves from a box on the shelf. He leaned down and picked up the tall English black leather riding boots, polished to a fine shine. He laid the outfit out upon the black satin coverlet on his bed, and set the boots next to the bed. Naked, he walked to the dresser, opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the new black riding crop and unwrapped it. He tested its resiliency. Exactly right. He stroked a hand over the fat dildoed grip. He glanced up at the monitor screen, heard the rustling sounds, the muffled cries.
    "Almost there, sweetheart. Almost there," he said. Then he carefully began to dress.
    ****
    Sinn managed to hold on to his control by a thread, right up until the light went out. Then he panicked. What the fuck had he gotten himself into? Had he let his cock lead him right into the worst situation imaginable. What did this guy have in mind to do to him? He'd never been in a room quite like this. Each piece of equipment, the black walls, the simple lines, some how seemed quite far more intimidating and fueled a full range of fantasies, especially when the light went out. At first he'd found it exciting and his curiosity got the better of him. But now after what seemed a lengthy stretch of time crouched here on the floor–now he just wanted out. Even his cock didn't seem the least bit interested in staying around.
    For a long time he tried to find a way free of the cuffs. He struggled and twisted. The position of his leather pants sure as hell wasn't any help with his bare ass waving in the air and the frigging gag sodden with his saliva. He was hogtied like he never had been before. Just as penned as those cows during branding season. Damn, but it had been a long time since he'd thought about those round-ups back in Montana. A real long time. Going in that direction brought up painful memories. Of he and his best friend, Bobby, working tandem, bringing those cows into line. Of he and Bobby, set up in Bobby's garage, fiddling with the guitars, playing around with lyrics that Sinn had thought up. Another flash and Bobby looking sad, handing Sinn a wad of cash.
    "You go. You do it for both of us. Mary Anne is pregnant--I-I'd only hold you back. You go and do it for both of us."
    No, God dammit, he was not going to think about that. He was not going to revisit what was dead and buried. He'd promised himself he wouldn't look back. He wouldn't regret. No matter what happened he had to move forward. He owed it to Bobby. But more, he