the high excitement of my cock. Somewhere, someone groaned in delight, and I thought it was probably me.
When he finished, I was dripping almost as fast as Johnny could lick me clean, but ready for whatever Mark could lay upon me. God, I hoped I didn't have long to wait.
"Last session, Liam," he whispered, his breath achingly hot against my neck. "You're so nearly there. Hold on."
Before I could think to prepare myself, the spanking began again. If it were possible, I'd have said the strokes were even harsher, with Mark surely putting his whole strength behind his punishment. I found myself yelling and crying and gasping, as each stinging blow made my cock just a little bit harder and just a little bit harder again.
"No!" I roared. "I won't come, I won't! You can't make me."
But the best-laid plans of mice and men, especially naked men clinging to a metal cage whilst being alternately spanked and sucked off, were doomed to failure tonight. Mark's last blow landed full square on my arse. The next second I heard the sound of something dropping onto the carpet, then a slicked finger was plunged right inside my hole, making me shout as it breached my muscle. I lost any semblance of control and shot my load over and over again, spunk pumping out over the duvet.
At the same time, Johnny manhandled me sideways and took my still spouting cock deep in his mouth, sucking me down and swallowing the rest of my load until I couldn't tell where he ended and I began. It was true of Mark, too, his fingers--two of them now--plunging inside my arsehole, taking me over the edge and fully into the deep, even as the pain began to kick back. I mumbled something about being sorry I'd not done what he'd asked me to, but didn't know if my shattered words made sense or not. It didn't matter.
"Oh, but I can change my mind about whether you come or not anytime I like," Mark whispered. "And I can make you come any time I like, too, whether you want to or not."
"Yes, sir. Yes you can, absolutely. Master. You can do anything."
With that, he removed his finger and kissed me to ease the sense of loss. When Johnny had finished suckling at my wilting cock, he wiped his mouth, leaned over and pushed at something at the bottom of the bed. Silently, the metal cage lifted, folding itself up and disappearing into its home in the ceiling as if it had never been there at all. If it was even half as wiped out and blissed out as I was, it would be doing pretty well for itself, all in all.
Heck, I hoped I hadn't seen the last of it.
After the bed was clear of anything potentially damaging, Johnny pushed me gently facedown across the covers. He and Mark joined me, one twin at my left side and the other at my right.
I wondered briefly if, in the light of our latest encounter, they might have forgotten all about the fact I used to paint and--far worse--had lied to them about it. I thought wrong.
Because as the three of us lay spread-eagled across the bed, Mark turned to me and took my face in his hands as Johnny snuggled closer into my other side. "You've handled your punishment so well, you'll have no problems when we have dinner at your parents' house tomorrow. And if the conversation happens to turn to ideas about art in general, and your art in particular, as my brother tells me it will, then you'll have no issue with taking to heart what people have to say about it. And you won't ever lie to us again, will you?"
I gulped. Johnny whispered something soft against my ear, but I couldn't quite make out the words. When I closed my eyes, Mark shook me, softly but with an intent I couldn't ignore.
"Look at me, Liam. I didn't tell you not to. And answer my question."
"Best do it, love," Johnny's whisper and, more than anything, his unexpected endearment gave me the push I needed.
I opened my eyes. Mark was gazing at me as if he wanted to drink me in, as if he was waiting for something only I could give him, but was unsure if he could trust me enough to do
When he finished, I was dripping almost as fast as Johnny could lick me clean, but ready for whatever Mark could lay upon me. God, I hoped I didn't have long to wait.
"Last session, Liam," he whispered, his breath achingly hot against my neck. "You're so nearly there. Hold on."
Before I could think to prepare myself, the spanking began again. If it were possible, I'd have said the strokes were even harsher, with Mark surely putting his whole strength behind his punishment. I found myself yelling and crying and gasping, as each stinging blow made my cock just a little bit harder and just a little bit harder again.
"No!" I roared. "I won't come, I won't! You can't make me."
But the best-laid plans of mice and men, especially naked men clinging to a metal cage whilst being alternately spanked and sucked off, were doomed to failure tonight. Mark's last blow landed full square on my arse. The next second I heard the sound of something dropping onto the carpet, then a slicked finger was plunged right inside my hole, making me shout as it breached my muscle. I lost any semblance of control and shot my load over and over again, spunk pumping out over the duvet.
At the same time, Johnny manhandled me sideways and took my still spouting cock deep in his mouth, sucking me down and swallowing the rest of my load until I couldn't tell where he ended and I began. It was true of Mark, too, his fingers--two of them now--plunging inside my arsehole, taking me over the edge and fully into the deep, even as the pain began to kick back. I mumbled something about being sorry I'd not done what he'd asked me to, but didn't know if my shattered words made sense or not. It didn't matter.
"Oh, but I can change my mind about whether you come or not anytime I like," Mark whispered. "And I can make you come any time I like, too, whether you want to or not."
"Yes, sir. Yes you can, absolutely. Master. You can do anything."
With that, he removed his finger and kissed me to ease the sense of loss. When Johnny had finished suckling at my wilting cock, he wiped his mouth, leaned over and pushed at something at the bottom of the bed. Silently, the metal cage lifted, folding itself up and disappearing into its home in the ceiling as if it had never been there at all. If it was even half as wiped out and blissed out as I was, it would be doing pretty well for itself, all in all.
Heck, I hoped I hadn't seen the last of it.
After the bed was clear of anything potentially damaging, Johnny pushed me gently facedown across the covers. He and Mark joined me, one twin at my left side and the other at my right.
I wondered briefly if, in the light of our latest encounter, they might have forgotten all about the fact I used to paint and--far worse--had lied to them about it. I thought wrong.
Because as the three of us lay spread-eagled across the bed, Mark turned to me and took my face in his hands as Johnny snuggled closer into my other side. "You've handled your punishment so well, you'll have no problems when we have dinner at your parents' house tomorrow. And if the conversation happens to turn to ideas about art in general, and your art in particular, as my brother tells me it will, then you'll have no issue with taking to heart what people have to say about it. And you won't ever lie to us again, will you?"
I gulped. Johnny whispered something soft against my ear, but I couldn't quite make out the words. When I closed my eyes, Mark shook me, softly but with an intent I couldn't ignore.
"Look at me, Liam. I didn't tell you not to. And answer my question."
"Best do it, love," Johnny's whisper and, more than anything, his unexpected endearment gave me the push I needed.
I opened my eyes. Mark was gazing at me as if he wanted to drink me in, as if he was waiting for something only I could give him, but was unsure if he could trust me enough to do
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