The
Lightest Touch
by Laura Bryannan
The bindings were
necessary because Mugen had no self-control and his word could not be
trusted. He would promise to submit but change his mind during,
retaliating far too effectively for Jin to fall for the ruse any
longer.
Jin found it perversely satisfying that the wooden
phallus he'd received as a gift was as thick as Mugen's own, and he'd
coated it liberally with clove oil before burying it some time ago.
Even though he hated the scent, preferring to use sandalwood to
sharpen his katana, he had to grant that the traditional oil had its
benefits. Mugen's hips were in constant motion just the way he liked,
evidence of the menthol burning deep inside.
Straddling
muscular thighs, Jin looked down in wonder at the magnificent
creature who lay prone beneath him, feeling blessed by the emotions
Mugen evoked in his psyche. He could understand how misers felt as
they beheld their riches, taking immense pleasure in fondling,
counting and hoarding their gold. Mugen was the greatest gift he had
ever received, precious and rare, deserving of reverent savoring like
fine sake or opium—even if Jin had to tie him up to accomplish
it.
The fact that the exotic, feral beast had wandered into
his life and hadn't yet left caused Jin's heart to burst with pride.
It reminded him of a time long ago when a stray cat took up residence
at the dojo for a few months. Even though other boys fed it, the
scraggly thing always sat in his lap and slept on his futon, making
him feel strangely special and chosen. Jin felt privileged to know
his extraordinary lover, amazed at his good fortune to be singled out
when he did not consider himself a lucky man.
Mugen was not
only submitting to his style of domestication, he seemed ready and
eager to be trained, panting after him with a barely-concealed lust
that Jin found incredulously flattering. It made no sense but the
attention was more necessary than air, water or food. Mugen made him
feel alive in a way he'd never felt before, and it wasn't just the
continual horniness he evoked, carrying him along in blissful reverie
every waking moment.
No, it wasn't just about the sex. Mugen
made him happy! He'd analyzed it in meditation after mediation and
couldn't find a better word to describe the feeling. Even though
their journey had been full of terror and hardship, Jin felt glad to
be alive for the first time in his life. Mugen buoyed his heart in
some magical way that gave him strength. No matter how worrisome the
future might be, his lover had gifted him with a vast library of
memories and fantasies to sustain him, and he was profoundly
grateful.
“What the fuck are you doing? I'm dying
here!”
Jin's gaze lingered fondly on the burnished torso
sheened with sweat, perfectly arched over bound arms, and tried to
sound firm. “Be quiet! I can't appreciate you when you're
blathering at me.”
“Appreciate me some other
way.”
“Patience.”
“Fuck
that!”
“I'm letting you steep.”
“C'mon,
Jin,” his victim complained. “My shoulders hurt, my balls
are aching and my ass...my ass....” He shuddered and Jin's
lower half lurched deliciously. “Do something, dammit!”
“You
always want forcefulness and excess. That's where your problem
lies.”
“What else is there?”
“This.”
Jin ran the backs of his nails over the throbbing member, insidiously
teasing as its owner moaned. The wooden phallus and its fiery coating
had done its work. Mugen's chest was heaving, head lolling from side
to side, looking so exquisitely alluring Jin didn't want to conclude
matters. But his lover had his limits and today was not about pushing
past them.
“Please, Jin,” came a raspy whisper.
“Don' tease me no more. I can't stand it, I gotta cum. Why do
you do this to me?”
Jin smiled. “You're beautiful
in distress, so it's necessary to torture you.”
The
blush was his reward, and he took pity. Finally taking the impatient
member in hand, he tugged gently until a barrage of wet missiles
sailed into the nearby shrubbery, startling a butterfly into flight,
while Mugen's cries silenced the local wildlife for a full minute.
Jin untied his half-conscious beloved and watched his face slacken
into innocence as he slept, delighting in the familiar tenderness it
evoked.
Later, as he was studiously memorizing every freckle
and scar on the perfectly formed body, it began to stir. “Hey!”
came a sleepy voice. “Quit looking at me like that.”
Jin
raised his eyes to meet the dear face. “Like how?” he
asked.
“Like you wanna eat me alive. Like you're not
done.”
Jin chuckled. The man could make him laugh.
Amazing! “No Mugen, I shall never be done with you.”
end