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Az smiles. “Start begging, Pup.”
“Please, please fuck me with the gun,” Lev whimpers.
Azadeh slowly inserts the tip of the metal into Lev’s ass. “I think you can do better than that, Lev. You said you wanted to tear me apart. Fuck me like an animal. I don’t see any of that now. Where did that bravado disappear to? Did you mean what you said, Lev? Did you want to watch me bleed? Did you want to mark me? Was that a fabrication, an illusion to hide what you wanted the whole time? For me to fuck you. To make you bleed, to break you until you finally cry those tears you’ve been holding locked in a cage your whole life.”
Azadeh’s words cut with empathetic brutality. They are honest and direct. Two things Lev needs. It makes sense that Lev is drawn to her because she sees him. She understands things about Lev that Cyrus and I never could.
Azadeh pushes the gun in further, the metal now in Lev’s ass to the hilt. “Answer me, Lev.”
“Yes. I want to be used. I want to be used by you. By all of you!” Lev screams. His words are drenched with emotion. Each word contains fragments of his struggle. “I want to bleed for you, all of you. I’ll be a floor for you to walk on. Take away my need for control. I’m tired of never experiencing the touch of love, and I’m confused about why that touch needs to be rooted in pain, humiliation, and servitude.”
Azadeh moves the gun in and out of him, increasing her speed. My cock aches as I witness her power. How she owns it and doesn’t care what anyone thinks. My hand moves to where her name is carved on my chest. Jagged lines which have come to mean the world to me. Scared letters symbolic of my bond with her.
As if reading my mind, Azadeh turns and locks her deep brown eyes with mine. Those eyes are so enchanting. I could drown in their depths.
She smiles. “Pass me my knife.”
I retrieve her sheath from her dresser and remove a sharp blade before handing it to her.
Azadeh steps away from Lev but leaves the gun in his ass. “Roll over, Lev.”
Lev cautiously moves until his back is on the mattress. His cock stands straight up, pointing to the ceiling.
“You mean it? You’re in this?” Azadeh asks, standing above him.
“Yes,” Lev whispers.
“Tie him up,” Cyrus says, pulling the rope from his kit and tossing it to me.
I don’t know when he sneaked in his fire kit. Guess I was too fascinated with his Persian lollipop antics to notice.
I grab the rope and pull Azadeh’s pistol from Lev’s ass, handing it to her. “Move up the bed, Lev.”
Pride blooms in me when Lev doesn’t hesitate at the command. We’ve come a long way from the boy who never wanted to be touched to the man willing to relinquish control.
“You okay with this?” I ask, holding up the rope.
“I think so,” Lev whispers.
“Remember, if you are uncomfortable, say your safe word, and it all stops. Everything.”
Lev's steely eyes search mine. “It’ll be okay.”
Cyrus approaches Lev, his green eyes igniting as he lights the fire stick—a metal rod with a Kevlar white tip.
Once Lev is secure, feet tied to the footboard and hands to the headboard, Cyrus dabs yellow liquid on Lev’s body with a pen.
“Why is it yellow?” I ask Cyrus.
“I wanted the three of you to know what I was writing. I used turmeric for food coloring.”
Three words.
Mine.
Ours.
Yours.
