Without a Net by Lyn Gala Read Free Book Online

into his skin, but there was little he could do. The crowd was unnaturally silent. Buck touched Ollie’s lower lip and ran his finger gently along it before he stood.
    “I’ll be put in the upper pillory,” Buck said. Gears moved, and the part of the bench right above Ollie’s head started lowering. It had an oval opening so Ollie could see a small piece of ceiling. “The front part is adjusted so our faces are close together. Normally lovers are punished like this. That way the one feels the pain and the other is forced to see every expression and every second while being unable to help.”
    Buck was silent for a time, and other gears clicked and whirred. Something brushed the tops of Ollie’s toes, and he pointed them down to get them out of the way. A light on the underside of the top plank flickered and then cast a soft glow over Ollie’s face. He didn’t understand why until Buck’s face appeared in the oval. Their noses were centimeters apart, and Buck looked scared…terrified, even. Ollie fisted his hands. Not only was he helpless, but Buck had put himself into this position intentionally. Ollie had played enough control games to recognize that.
    Buck’s Dom had given him a rule, and he’d broken it to get attention, but this was clearly above and beyond any reasonable punishment or control game. Someone shoved the microphone in so it lay on Ollie’s chest.
    Buck cleared this throat and then continued. “They’re strapping my head in so I can’t pull away. My arms will be pulled up and over my head and locked into place so they don’t get in the way of my whipping or protect my sensitive sides. My Master wants my pain.”
    Buck yelped, and his warm breath spilled across Ollie’s skin. “My Master has put a very large dildo in me. Thank you, Master,” Buck said, but his face was twisted up in a way that made it very clear he was unhappy.
    “Now they’re strapping down my legs and knees. The upper pillory is angled so I’m bent with my ass up. People can kneel on the board that’s above your legs and fuck me. I’m here for any masters to use because that’s what I deserve. I deserve to be used because I disobeyed my Master.”
    It was amazing how Buck could sound calm while his face revealed his horror. Ollie imagined this would be very effective for lovers. Effective, traumatizing, and utterly unethical. It only got worse when the whipping began.
    Ollie tried to tune out as Buck counted off whip strikes and explained how each made him feel—the sharp pain, the deep ache, the guilt at disobeying his Master, the fear that the whip was cutting into his skin. Finally after a long time, Buck started begging. He begged to be released. He begged to go free. He offered to leave the club and never be seen again. He cried, and every hot tear hit Ollie. He screamed, and the spittle landed on Ollie’s face.
    After a time, Buck went quiet. He stopped begging for anything, and he moaned pitifully. His eyes fell shut, and Ollie could almost believe that Buck had found a way to escape the pain.
    Ollie squirmed. He didn’t know Buck well, and honestly the guy’s dynamic scared the shit out of him, but it was human nature to empathize, and Ollie struggled with his inability to offer any sort of comfort. There were footsteps all around the pillory, but on his low shelf, Ollie couldn’t see anything.
    When the contraption dropped lower centimeter by centimeter, Buck’s eyes popped open.
    “Oh, fuck,” he said. The crowd erupted in laughter. Mean laughter.
    Ollie frowned in confusion.
    “They’re lowering the bench so men can reach my asshole more easily. Anyone who wants to fuck me can, men, or women using a pegging harness. My Master thinks the fact that I’m a switch means that I need to be taken down harder,” Buck said. “I don’t know why my Master put you in here with me.”
    The grinding of gears stopped.
    Someone reached in to grab the microphone. “That is an interesting question,”