I’ve hardly written anything in weeks, but here’s a bit of something I’m working on.  Picspiration can be found here.

9 months ago.

Chris is panting against the table, muscles in his back flexing with each gasp as he tries desperately to hold his spread legs still and not squirm against his bindings.  Zach has him kneeling on two dining table chairs, one leg bound to each so they can be be spread as far as Zach likes.  He is bent over the table, arms crossed behind his back and secured to opposite table legs.  It isn’t tight — he has plenty of room to squirm — but he can’t change positions.  He’s pinned just as surely as if Zach had used twice as much rope.

Zach wants him still, but is doing what he can to make Chris writhe: one hand slowly stroking his dripping cock and the other fucking him with a single finger.  Not enough to get him off — no where near — but enough to send him into subspace.  Enough to make him blink several times and grunt wordlessly as Zach’s voice penetrates the fog with, “Tell me a fantasy.”