[just standard whipping. Backdated to July 14]
Mark nods in approval, setting the plates on the table and going back for the drinks. "You moving well. Doing okay?"
"Good as can be expected, I guess," he replies with a half smirk, "but, if it's a'right, I'd just as soon stand to eat." The idea of sitting down on anything even remotely hard, or soft for that matter, isn't something Chace really wants to try for.
Mark chuckles as he sits. "Yeah, that's understandable." He looks at the boy as he takes a bite and a drink. "Not a bad session, considering. Some boys won't leave the Houses. You definately moved up on my list." He smiles, "I'm kinda glad your last hire had shit for brains. Would have missed you otherwise."
Chace takes up a spot at the bar, leans against it and smiles to himself as he realizes that, while the other man has beer, he has a soda in front of him. Taking a drink, he sighs at the cold against his throat. "Not like they don't know where I'm at or who's got me, and..." he pauses for a moment then nods, "yeah, was good. Hurt the right way." The man definitely hadn't lost any skill. "Sadly, the ones like that are all too damn common for my tastes."
"Ain't that the truth." Mark gets up to grab some potato chips. He stops in front of the boy. "I don't share my beer with strangers. Next time, bring some on your own." He sits back down, shaking out the chips before holding the bag out to the boy. "So, what time do I have to get you back home?"
There's no way to hold back the soft laugh as he shakes his head. "I don't drink when I'm in a scene. Never know what's bound to happen and the last thing I need 's to get into somethin' and end up pukin'." Chace reaches out to take the bag, nodding a thanks as he dumps a few out on his plate. "Well, ya got me until tomorrow. I got a couple days off after just...well, just in case." And if this last little bit was any indication, Chace knows he'll need those days off.
"Okay. I was thinking - hold on." Mark grumbles as he goes to answer the phone. "Hello. Yeah. Yeah, it's still an offer. How long til they get here? Yeah, no that works. Gives me time to take care of things. They figure out how long they'll need it? Okay. Yeah, call me with all the details later. Better yet, email it. All right. Bye." He hangs up, shaking his head. "Well I'll be damned. I didn't think they would. Now I just have to get ready." Mark turns to the boy. "Lucky for us, we still got time."
Chace stands there eating, or rather nibbling, at his sandwich as he listens to the end of the conversation he can hear. Apparently someone or some 'thing' is coming and he's not really sure, from the sound of it, if he'll be there when this person or thing arrives. "If you've got plans I can always catch a plane back." Plane. Sorta forgot that part. Damn.
With just over half the sandwich gone, Chace pushes the plate back. "Time for what? And, I still 've no clue what to call you."
"Huh? Oh, letting someone rent my house. They got business in the area, didn't want to stay in a hotel. Too long and they got kids. Don't have much to do, just put some things away so I won't have to worry about something happening to them. Clean up a little." Mark smiles as he takes a bite of his sandwich. "Thought you Citadel boys used Sir as a default."
"Renting your place out?" Chace's cheeks turn deep crimson as he bites at his lip, "Well, from the two seconds I got a look at it outside, looks to be a pretty huge place. Nice from what I could tell, but huge for someone that's single." Then it hits him - maybe the man isn't single and he's just put his foot in his mouth. "If 'm told to, I will, but it's not a default," he says with a laugh, "ya don't, well, I don't, just default back like a clock on twelve."
Mark looks thoughtful as he eats. "You know, I never really gave much thought to what you boys do beyond the session." He waves it away. "Sir will do. And not single, married couple. Four or five kids. They'll run around this place, get worn out come nightfall. Not sure what to do with the dogs. Have to see how they take to the family." He laughs. "I'm going to have to warn them about the barn, make sure it's locked."
Shifting on his feet, Chace takes another bite of his sandwich - it's there after all - then turns toward Mark at the comment on the kids. "Busy couple, weren't they?" There's the slightest hint of a smile on Chace's lips; he'd been right. Mark definitely isn't the type to let a boy, in scene or not, call him by his name. "The barn, Sir? You have horses? Haven't ridden in a long time." He goes back to the comment about off-time and takes a step closer to the other man. "I can show ya what I've done before in my down time, if you'll let me."
Mark raises an eyebrow and smiles. "Only horses I got are iron ones. I'll lock up my darlin', the husband rides some so let him use one of the older ones." He stands up, grabbing his beer and finishing off his sandwich. "Come on. I'll show it to you."
Mark walks out to the arcadia door and opens it. The two dogs run, sniffing around him and jumping up. "Nope, not of this is for you. Come on, back out." The dogs start back out, then catch sight of the boy. They stop, growling low as they step toward him. "Leave him! Outside." The dogs stop, sniffing the air before racing out. "Come on, boy."
"Bikes? You ride, Sir?" Very few things entice Chace like straddling a bike. "Guy I used to be with," he says as he falls in behind Mark, "he had a pair of Indian Chief Vintage bikes. Amazing things, beautiful." Grabbing another drink before he heads toward the door, Chace thinks on taking it with him then decides better of it and slides the cola back to the counter.
As it turns out, not holding onto the drink is the best idea he's had all day considering he nearly falls over himself as the dogs - mountain things that match their owner - face off with him in a low, challenging growl. "Sir, uhm...do they bite?" Pain is one thing, being bitten by a dog is a whole other story.
"They don't if I tell them not to. You'll be fine. Yeah, I got three bikes. A good buddy of mine bought me the one have to lock up." Mark leads the way to a large dark red barn. Opening a door at one end, he walks in and flicks on the light. Three motorcyles are lined up in a row, the tools needed to maintain them hanging on the wall behind.
"This is the one I was talking about." He lays his hand on a black/dark purple bike. "Actually, while we're here..." Taking a drink, he hands the beer to the boy and starts to push the bike toward a door leading into the barn. Kicking it open, he goes inside. "This is what I really have to lock up. Come on." Reaching behind him, Mark flicks on more lights. Bit by bit, a fully-stocked dungeon is revealed. Crosses, wooden horses, tables with shackles, cages. Some on the floor, some suspended. Rows of toys line the walls.
Chace follows though he keeps an eye on the animals. It's not that he don't trust the other man and his ability to control the dogs, but careful is always good. Walking in behind Mark, Chace's eyes go wide at the sight of the bikes. "Oh wow, Sir! They're amazing!" He's not been invited to touch or even get near them, so Chace admires the machines from a few steps back. "Work on 'em yourself?" He takes the beer and, following behind Mark, wonders just what else the barn holds.
His question is answered in the flick of a switch and the loss of his own breath as his chin hit the ground. If Citadel is kink heaven, Mark's barn is kink hell - the much harder and darker version of anything Chace has seen at the Houses so far. Kink on steroids!
He immediately begins to fidget. "Sir? You...ya use all this...stuff?" Training aside, there are things on the walls that Chace knows he'll be going to Google later just to find out what they are.
"I don't buy things for looks, boy. I buy them to use them." Mark parks the bike and looks at the boy. "I've used everything in this barn. Have a party once in a long while. Not many of you Citadel boys have seen the inside of this place. Mostly kept boys loaned out by their Masters, or being worked for show." He leans against the bike. "Go ahead and look around."
"Oh! Of course, Sir. Didn't mean anything, just...good god." Chace glances to the wall then nods back to Mark's words, his eyes still on the implements - and they are
implements, not toys - some of which Chace is certain were used by the Spanish Inquisition or maybe by Vlad the Impaler. "Thanks for trusting me in here then, Sir." Moving toward the wall, his eyes widen; hooks, chains, poles, cuffs, things that he has no idea what they are - and some he doesn't want to know - are all neatly in their place. An organized sadist?
"Not like you're here by yourself. No one comes in here without my being here." Mark points to the walls. "Doors on each side. Open them up during sessions, let the wind blow through. Smell the rain. The dogs know not to come in here, there's no one close enough to hear the screaming."
As Chace glances around, he realizes that, yes it's true, the dogs haven't followed them inside. "You open the doors up during your play out here? There's a reason to let the wind blow in?" Chace isn't sure about the whole 'smell of the rain' thing, especially when it comes to a scene, but figures the man has his reasons. It's the idea, however, that there isn't anyone close enough to hear screaming that has both a jolt of pure fear and a rush of pure pleasure-filled adrenaline coursing through him.
Mark laughs. "Boy, you ever have someone work you over so much, that a breath on your skin makes you leap clear out of it? Imagine that all over your body at once." He shakes his head as he stands up. "They need to show you life outta Citadel once in a while."
"Well Sir, 's not really doors to leave open in the Citadel rooms - well, there are, but ya know, they just sorta go to the hallway." Chace isn't sure how much air one could get flowing through a room like that, and other than the ceiling fans, people there usually tend to rely on the air conditioning for coolness. "My first sir wasn't so much into the heavier things and, well...the man the got me into Citadel, he was harder, but still pretty reserved. Had a thing for clamps and sensation play though."
"Yeah, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you don't get it. Might have to change that someday. Best get back to the house, make a quick list of what needs to be done." Mark grabs his beer from the boy and walks out to where the motorcycles are, taking a keyring off a nail on the wall. "Lock this up now, won't have to worry about it later."
Leaving the barn, Mark walks back to the house. Grabbing some more chips, he sits at the table. A slow glance around sets the to-do list in his mind. "So I have you til tomorrow. What should I do to you next?"
Chace doesn't question out loud but, as Mark comments on the idea of a list, he can't help but wonder if the man means a list of what to do before whoever it is gets there or a list that compiles whatever tortures lurk in the dark corners of the man's mind; he half hopes it's the second.
He follows quietly for a moment, only speaking once they reach the house and his mind seems to find the ability to function fully again. "Well Sir, that's definitely up to you, 'nless you're offering up a list for me to choose from, that is." His mind goes back to the things in the barn and his cheeks color beet red. "I'd like to ask though...is Sir's skill with the singletail 's as good as the flogger."
"Maybe you should tell me. There's one in that room there." Mark drains his beer. "I've never had any complaints." Standing up, he walks over to the boy and tears away the towel. His eyes travel over the naked boy. "You'll mark up real well, won't you boy?" He kicks the boy's legs out from under him. "Now get into that room."
Chace's eyes dart toward the room a sheer moment before the towel is yanked from his body, the material scraping harshly against the damaged skin. "Ngh, fuck! Yes Sir, I will, I'll..." his words are cut short as his feet leave him and he lands hard on his ass. Tears immediately come to his eyes as he struggles for a moment to catch his breath as not only ass, but cock and balls hit with a force that adds pain all over again. "Yes Sir," he finally pants out then slowly begins to crawl.
"I said now!" Mark uses his boot to shove the boy in the ass, pushing him forward. A second later he grabs the boy by the hair and drags him into the room. Clipping the wrist cuffs together, he lowers the chain again and hooks it onto the cuffs. Pulling the boy up into the air, he sets the chain to keep him there. Without warning he spins around and strikes the boy, letting the singletail wrap around him.
Scrambling to keep up and keep his balance as Mark drags him, Chace wonders for a moment just how much more his scalp can stand before hairs begin to pull free. "Sir, please!" It's when they reach the room that he sees the reason for the cuffs being left on - ease of use for Mark - when he hoisted into the air by his wrists. "Sir, what..." The scream cuts through the silence of the room like a hot knife through butter, echoing back to his own ears as every muscle tightens and his body jerks against the chain that holds him.
"It's a shame I have to be some careful with you." Mark walks around the boy, striking him from another angle. "But then, that's what happens with the two stripes. Get you all pumped up." Another strike. "Then you have to pull back. But then again, as I remember." Strike. "You took it better than a lot did. You were dancing for it at the end. Wanting it. I'm a little surprised you're still a two stripe actually." A lower strike this time, the tip landing just above the boy's cock.
As his body jerks against the pain, the chain allows him to turn and things suddenly take on a very surreal feeling as Mark's voice, the slow spin of the chain and the acute and shocking sting of the whip all seem to melt together somewhere in his center. "Wanna be...a three, Sir!" He also remembers just how much this man likes giving pain and how his own body reacted to it before. The next hit lands then and both legs come upward to pull into his stomach.
"Aghhfuck! Yes! It hurts Sir!" It's that pain that has his cock standing out at full length.
"Hell yeah it hurts, boy!" Mark grabs the boy's chin, making him look at him. "That's why you said yes. That's why you're here. Cause you want the pain." He gives a slap to the boy's hard cock. "You need it. Now I don't want any more words, just your screaming."
The hits come at random, both in location and the time between them. But Mark keeps careful track of them. He does have to return this boy after all. But it doesn't stop him from attaching his ankle cuffs together and tying a rope to them. Bringing over a small weight, he ties the boy's legs down, leaving him some play but not enough to protect himself.
As much as Chace hates to admit it, there was no way for him to even think about not coming when the man offered this trip, and, as blue eyes stare into Mark's face, he nods. "Yes, Sir. I do. Ngh! Fuck! Fuck!" The hit to his cock drives it downward and his feet come up again as the tears begin, the knot forming in his belly at the pain and pressure to his body.
"No words..." There's no hope that words could come as the hits begin again and Chace's body spins and jerks, his screams slowly becoming moans and cries of emotion as pain meets pleasure and the line between the two begins to blur. Tears stream from his eyes, a trickle of blood tinged saliva runs down his chin - the result of a bitten lip - and he's only vaguely aware of the sudden added weight to his body, the stretch to his skin and muscle bringing bursts of fresh pain.
Mark smiles as he hears the change in the boy's screaming. He pauses long enough to lick at his tears, hand moving down his body to feel the developing welts. "You wanna be a three, huh? That's very good. Let's see how it goes." The hits are more measured, more regular. He watches the boy's face and body, judging his reactions. "That's it, boy. Show me how you need this. Why you're here." His voice is low, wrapping itself around the boy.
He feels the strain on his shoulders, the weight that pulls him down to hold his body taught against the sting of the whip, but it's Mark's voice that reaches him - sinks into his thoughts - and wraps around him as surely as the tip of the whip does. Blue eyes, half-lidded, stare outward as his body jumps and spasms against each strike and, at Mark's coaxing, Chace begins to speak, his voice soft and low, barely audible. "More please, Sir. Want to give you more screams please..." Chace arches, as much as the weight will allow, toward Mark and the whip he knows waits to land again.
"You will. You'll give me so much more." The hits become more focused, landing directly on the boy's nipples and his cock. Mark has to shift his stance, his body reacting to the boy's pain. Blindly reaching behind him, he grabs the first whip his hand touches. His smile grows as he sees it's the chain flogger. The flogger darts now and then, between the strikes of the singletail.
Somewhere inside, Chace knows where the whip lands, but he wouldn't stop it even if he could. The pain drives down his hard-on then, just as surely, pulls it back again, his cock throbbing and pulsing with every hit from the whip's tip. With his head against his upstretched arm, Chace's eyes have the dazed look of pure, painful bliss as small grunts and moans leave him; that all changes as the chain flogger finds his skin. "Ahhhhaaee!" Eyes widen in pain and nostrils flare with panted breaths before his head drops back and he sinks back into the pain, softly mumbled words leaving his lips.
"That's it, boy. Just fall back into it. Let it pull you down." Mark lets a half dozen hits of each toy land before dropping them. He brings the boy's head up, looking into his eyes. "Very good." He gives him a rough kiss, a hand roaming over the boy's body. "Better than I remembered. You need to be pushed more." He chuckles. "Want to be the first to mark you when you hit three stripes."
"Thank you," he murmurs as the hits finally cease and he hears Mark's voice praising him. He thinks the words are spoken aloud, but perhaps not, maybe they're only something his mind plays in his head as he feels the kiss claiming his mouth as a hand finds damaged flesh. Blue eyes do their best to focus on the man's face and Chace nods to Mark's words. "First, yes Sir. I'll r'member."
Mark undoes the rope attached to the boy's ankles, then moves to lower the chain. He goes slow, letting the boy rest on the ground for a second as he unhooks the wrist cuffs. Then he picks him up and carries him over to the cot along one wall. Mark checks the welts as he puts on the ointment. He smiles as he wipes his hands on a small towel and stands. "Rest. I'll check on you in a little while."
Chace gives a soft whimper as the weight on his feet leaves and his body suddenly comes in contact with the ground. His eyes go to the cuffs but, as Mark had said previously, the cuffs remain even as they're unhooked from the chain. "Thank you, Sir," he whispers as he's placed on the cot, the material rough and scratchy against his skin but at least he's being allowed to rest. Blue eyes glance upward to the man as he stands and he nods, thankful already for the ointment on the wounds. "Of course, Sir." The words are barely mumbled out before Chace's eyes close.
Mark checks on the boy now and then as he gets the house ready for the renters. He curses as his back starts to ache, ignoring it to finish before heading outside. It's another hour before he comes back in, more places hurting now. "Fuck." He grabs a beer before falling onto the couch.
He has no clue as he comes from the dead-to-the-world sleep where he is for a moment but as the pain in his flesh hits him, it all comes back and he basically rolls off the cot to his hands and knees. In desperate need of a bathroom and a drink of water, he glances around the room and makes his way to the door he hopes is a bathroom. "Nngh, fuck!" he groans out as he pushes up, splashes water on his face and relieves himself. Washing his hands, he slowly makes his way to the living room. "Sir? May I join you?"
"You finally awake, huh?" Mark leans his head back on the couch, groaning a little. "Everything all right? Anything I need to check?" He raises his head just a little to watch the boy as he sits down, then lets it fall back down. "Need some more ointment?"
"Awful sore, Sir, but...I think I'm okay." Chace thinks that until he sits and some of the marks on his back and ass tell him otherwise. "Ointment, Sir. Yes please, that'd be nice. Some of the marks seem a bit more sore than I thought." Watching the other man for a moment, Chace's eyes narrow, not understanding how the man in front of him seems so sore when he's the one that took the beating. "Are you a'right, Sir?"
"Did the work around the house while you were out." Mark sets down his beer, another groan as he stands. "Been in the business this long, things hurt sooner than when you were younger." He heads down to the room and returns with the ointment. "Where you hurting?"
Chace watches as the man leaves then returns then, moving slowly himself, rolls to his side. "Ass and nipples, Sir." His cock throbs with the welts from the beating, but the idea of anything touching it at the moment isn't something Chace wants to deal with. He knows, however, that it does need tending to. "...and my cock, Sir," he whispers out into the couch cushion. "I can help your soreness, Sir."
"You can, huh? And how is that?" Mark moves his hand lightly over the boy's body, seeing where more of the ointment is needed. "Roll a little more on your back. There, did I get everywhere?" He stands to get a paper towel from the kitchen, twisting his body to loosen up the muscles as he walks. "You need something to drink?"
Readily complying if it means that the sting in his skin will ease, Chace winces as the ointment's applied then nods. "Yes Sir, thank you." Relaxing on the couch for a moment as Mark leaves then returns, he nods up to the other man. "Yes Sir, water 'd be good, and yeah, I can help. My arms 're a bit sore, so might not be good as usual, but I'm a trained masseuse, Sir. Can show ya if you wanna get on the floor, or...maybe the bed."
"A masseuse? Never had one from a Citadel boy, just our trainers at the arenas. Did your bio mention service work?" Mark takes a water bottle out of the fridge and brings it over to the boy. He sits back down, taking a drink of his beer as he looks at the boy. "Rest up a little more. I can wait. No use getting a massage if you're going to fade out on me."
"Thank you," he sighs, taking the bottle. "I was a masseuse before I came to Citadel," he says, thinking for a moment as he takes a long drink. "I believe it does. The man that got me into the club? I was with him for a bit before, not as his really, just..." Chace shrugs up a shoulder as he looks up. "He liked massage so he paid for my training. Older man with lots of money," he says with a chuckle then nods. "Yes Sir, just let me know when."
"Older man with lots of money, huh? Why'd you leave? That's a prize a lot of those boys at Citadel are looking for." Mark shifts on the couch to better look at the boy. His eyes study him without being obvious. "Not his really? How were you with him?"
Chace twists his body just enough to be able to meet the eyes of the other man. "Well, first Sir, 'm not most Citadel boys," he says with an obvious smirk. "He was the first one to show me what pain - real pain - could do, how it could make me feel." Chace's voice softens as he recalls the period in his life. "He had a life, a family. I knew going in. I was his boy, without fail, while we were in a scene, but I wasn't bound to him, not by my heart or my mind."
"So who ended it, you or him? Or his family, should I say? Or was that just his regular practice, take a boy out for a spin, then move to the next one?"
He chuckles softly, a sound that's shortly followed by a wince as muscle in his back move against the couch. "It was mutual, Sir. And his partner knew about me, even met me a time or two." Chace thought about Mark's words for a moment. "I don't know if I was one in a list, but I know he seemed to care enough to help me discover what I wanted."
"So he taught you about pain. Have to compliment him for that job. And you've been at Citadel since then?" Mark takes another drink.
Chace reaches for his own drink, takes a swallow then nods. "Yeah, he sponsored me in then got me into training. Been working there right at a year and a half now I guess." He grins sheepishly at Mark, "And if I ever see him, I'll make sure he knows you send your compliments."
"Half a year til your time is up. You going to stay on afterwards? Would think you'd be a three stripe by then." Mark doesn't know why he's asking all these questions. It's the longest he's held a conversation with any boy. Part of him wonders why he is while he waits for the boy to answer.
His lashes lower just the slightest at the question and he shrugs as much as he can in his position. "Most likely, yes Sir. I really would like to go on to a three-stripe at some point." He's not sure any man that's rented his time there has ever been this curious, but while it's different, it's rather nice too. "It's not perfect, but it works, ya know?"
"Nothing wrong with it. There are far worse ways. Sure as hell know about that. Was a long time before I could afford to hear about Citadel." Mark shakes his head as he drinks. "Talking about beggers not being choosers. There's a reason they call them ring rats."
"Ring rats? You mean those little tarts that hang around hoping for a bang from a wrestler?" He suddenly realizes that Mark misunderstood what his words had meant. "No, no. I like what I do, it's the going home that's not the great thing."
"There's tarts, and then there's those." He frowns. "I did think you were talking about selection. But yeah, there is something to be said for another voice once in a while. I"m pretty okay with quiet. You been solo the whole time you've been at Citadel? No steady casual fucks on the side?"
Chuckling as he shakes his head, Chace takes another long drink, throat still scratchy. "It's not the random quiet so much as..." he pauses for a moment, "at work, I see what it could be, then I go home and know it isn't." He turns his eyes to Mark with a grin and a shake of his head. "Not many. Most guys don't like the idea of sharing even a casual fling with who knows how many others."
"What could it be, but isn't?"
Chace's eyes darken some as he contemplates the results of a generic 'nothing' answer and wonders just what Mark's punishments are for a non-answer answer. "Belonging to someone," he finally says after a much too long silence. "I'd thought I had it with my first lover, but he couldn't get to where I knew I needed even then." Pushing up just a bit, he groans then faces Mark. "I don't mean belonging for the hour or the night that they pay for at the club, I mean...really belonging."
"You mean owned."
He's heard of the men that are few on words and it seems Mark has become one. Yet, Chace wonders to himself just how such few words can cause him to fidget and grow as nervous as he is. Then again, it's not a topic he usually talks about. "Yes Sir," he says with a short nod. "Owned, not just...rented."
"Have you thought about what that means, being owned?. A lot of ways that can go." Mark looks down at his glass, but keeps his attention on the boy. "A lot of ways it means. You'd have to be sure you and him had the same idea. Can you even verbalize what you want?"
Can he verbalize it? That's a bit like asking a priest if he can recite a passage in the bible. "I've had years to think on it," he says bluntly. "It means giving everything you are, or will be, over to another that you trust implicitly to take care of your needs. To let them take you and guide you into an area where you can please them and tend to them. If they love you down the line, then it's a bonus."
Mark nods to himself, then drains his beer. "That is a very definate and clear plan. I wish you luck. Hope you find him." He stretches again, cursing at the loud pop his back gives. "Might have to wait til tomorrow for that massage. Get it before I drive you to the airport."
Chace winces as he hears the loud crack from the other's back, scolding himself for not seeing to it sooner. "Thank you, I hope so too. Are you sure though on the massage, Sir? It's not a problem, really."
"I saw that wince of yours when you moved on the couch. You're still hurting too. How good of a massage can you give like that?"
He pauses for a moment then lifts his arms over his head and back. "My arms 're fine, Sir. Just the skin on my back's a little tight, muscles 're sore, but I think I'm good if you don't mind me sitting straddle your hips."
Mark thinks for a second, then nods. "If you think you can." He stands up, setting his beer down on the table. "There's a spare bedroom halfway down the hall. You set up while I take a shower. There should be something you can use in the bathroom. Think Steph gave me something last Christmas." He walks to his room, strips then gets in the shower. He lets the water run hot over him before reaching for the shampoo.
"Yes Sir, I'll be ready." He stares after Mark for a moment, trying to get a bead on the man and the questions then finally stands and makes his way to the bedroom. It takes a bit to find the oil and, after sniffing it, goes to hunting for another bottle. "Maybe the scent changed over time," he mumbles to himself as he finds a large towel, a couple of hand towels and... "Ah ha!" Another bottle of oil literally falls out of the cabinet at him - musky but not too bad. "Actually smells nice, sorta fits him." In no time, he's set up and kneeling on the bed to wait.
Mark takes the shower a little quicker than usual. Killing the water, he dries himself off before wrapping the towel around his waist and walking to the bedroom. "Okay, how do you want me? I mean, I know on my stomach but half the time I'm too tired to much notice how I'm laid out beyond that."
Chace has moved the pillows out of the way and is kneeling to the side as Mark comes in. "However you're comfy, Sir. Hands to the side of your head or arms folded under, either way." He tries not to stare - he honestly does - but there's just something about the man that almost commands that you look at him. The fact that he's naked only heightens that. "Once you're down, I'll put the pillow under your legs."
Nodding, Mark lays on the bed. He tries his hands by his head, then settles for them under it. He straigthens out the towel as best he can reach, then nods. "Okay. I"m good."
With Mark settled, Chace lifts his feet and slides a pillow under them. "Keeps your back and knees more relaxed," he says as he moves up then slowly straddles Mark's hips, making sure to keep his weight well away from the man's lower back. "Just relax and keep breathing," he says, voice dropping a level to a tone he learned while in training. Squeezing out a bit of the oil into his hands and rubbing them together, he then presses his palms to the other man's back and begins to work.
Mark has never been able to keep from tensing up when he first gets a massage. It's become a joke with the company trainers. This time the feel of the weight on him adds to it. Forcing a deep breath, he closes his eyes and relaxes himself. Soon he's groaning as he feels his muscles responding to the massage. Another deep breath as another part responds as well.
Chace feels Mark tense but continues to work, his own breathing slowing as he finds himself getting lost in the act of working at every little knot and tense spot he can find. When he feels Mark shift under him, he pauses for a split second then continues. "You're okay, Sir?" he asks as the heels of his hands find Mark's shoulders. "Not too hard?"
"Define too hard." Chuckling, he looks up at the boy. "You? No, you're fine. Me is another matter. Keep going." Lowering his head, he brings his arms to his sides and closes his eyes again. He blanks out his mind, letting himself just feel each movement.
Head cocking to the side in confusion at the words, Chace grins though as Mark chuckles and he decides he likes the sound. "Long as it feels good, Sir." His thumbs find the area just to each side of Mark's spine and he slides down to push back up toward the man's neck, using his own weight to sink into the movement. He's a trained massage therapist, he's not supposed to get aroused when giving a massage; the only problem being that he's not usually straddle the person he's working on.
Mark groans as the boy works up his spine. He can feel his back loosening up and everything relaxing. Well, almost relaxing. Pretending to adjust the towel, his hips thrust up against the boy and he hides his smile at finding him hard as well. "Just a second. Didn't make you lose your place, did I?"
The thrust upward from Mark's hips sends a jolt of pure pleasure through Chace at the pressure in his balls and cock. "Mmm, no Sir, you di'nt, still have my place." Chace sits back a bit, however, his eyes on Mark's form, admiring the build of the man. "Is there some place that needs special attention, Sir?"
"My chest feels a little tight. Legs too." He turns his head to look at the boy. "Should I turn over now?" He brings his arms over his head and stretches, arching his ass up just a little. Another groan as his back pops.
As hard as he is, Chace has no doubt that coming on this man's skin would likely be one of the biggest mistakes he could make in his entire life; he likes his cock attached, thanks. "Yes Sir, that'll work," he says as he pushes up and to the side to allow Mark to roll onto his back, using the chance to add more oil to his hands.
Mark shifts til he's on his back. He lets the towel come undone as he moves and is just covered by it when he's settled. Bringing his hands behind his head, his eyes half close but not before looking at the boy's cock. "Chest first, then legs."
"Of course, Sir," he says as his voice goes just a bit deeper. There's absolutely no denying that the man has an amazing body - there's also no denying that Mark could break him in half if the mind came to. Straddling Mark once more, Chace settles down then leans forward and, as his hands move over Mark's chest, his ass moves over the barely-covered cock under him.
Slowly, Mark moves his legs, forcing the boy's legs apart and more of his weight to settle on him. "My neck needs a little work. But keep where you are." He tilts his head back, arms moving to his sides again. He waits til the boy reaches for his neck then opens his legs more.
Chace can feel the spread of his legs as Mark's legs force his own wider and he fights the moan that threatens to leave his throat. "Your neck. Yes Sir, stay...stay..." Chace's arms stretch outward as he keeps his hips steady, groaning lewdly as he feels the head of Mark's cock push against him. "Ohh Sir, yess."
One hand comes up behind the boy to grab him by the hair and force him into a hard kiss. The other reaches to the nightstand drawer for clips for the cuffs. Sitting up, Mark takes the boy's hands and locks them to his ankle cuffs. Pushing the towel away, he grabs a condom and lube from the drawer. Catching the boy in another kiss, he grabs him by the waist and slowly lowers him onto his cock. Mark waits for a moment then begins to pound into the boy, his nails leaving red trails over the boy's skin.
He doesn't fight, but Chace's eyes widen as he realizes the position Mark's putting him in - there's no way to brace himself or slow the fucking he knows is coming. The kiss all but takes his breath and what it leaves, the push into him steals away. "Aghhgod, yess Sir!" Chace's cock throbs as Mark thrusts up into him, his body opening to accommodate as he struggles to keep his balance, impaled on Mark's cock.
"I want to thank you, boy. A very good massage. I thought I would have to wait to do more to you. Now, I have new ideas for you. One more day, huh?" Chuckling, Mark yanks the boy's head back as he leans to whisper in his ear. "You will need all that time off to recover. I promise you." His teeth graze over the boy's shoulder as the other hand grabs his balls. "If you beg well enough, you might get to come. You can start after I do."
"Your welcome, Sir, ohhhgod, wel..." Chace's entire body and mind seems to freeze at the whisper from Mark and he knows, without fail, that Mark means what he says. The groan that leaves his lips from the hand in his hair stops short, turning into a squeaked-out yelp as his balls are squeezed tight. "Yes Sir," Chace chokes out as he tries to garner a breath between the vice around his sack and the cock in his ass, "thank you."
"You can thank me afterward. If you can still talk."