"Help me turn him over," Marcus instructed, his voice slicing through the quiet evening air of the terrace.
Boris quickly stepped forward, grabbing the thick black ropes strapped across Gabe's back. Together, they rolled the unconscious man over, laying him flat on his back across the striped cushions. The sight was breathtaking. Gabe’s body was a landscape of rugged, hyper-masculine perfection. A thick, dark mat of chest hair peaked under the intricate constraints of the Shibari harness, tapering down a deep v-line toward a sharp scorpion tattoo inked into his lower right abdomen. Between his thick thighs rested his heavy, broad cock—thick even in its flaccid state, resting heavily against his skin, glistening faintly with the day's sweat.
Marcus shifted his weight, sliding his arm under Gabe’s broad, unresponsive shoulders and cradling the unconscious man against his own chest. He looked down into Gabe's face, gently grasping his chin. Suddenly, Marcus's expression darkened.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded, his voice rising sharply as he took in the severe swelling around Gabe’s right eye and the angry, dark bruising marring his cheek and split lip.
"Sorry, boss, I didn't have a choice," Boris stammered, holding his hands up defensively. "He nearly killed Silas... and the other guy is knocked out cold downstairs." He pointed at Silas's own bruised face as proof.
Marcus let out a breath of pure frustration. "There were three of you, and he was one man trapped beneath a solid stone statue..." he hissed. "What am I supposed to do with him now?"
"Give it a day or two and the swelling will go down," Boris replied, lowering his gaze to the stone floor. "I don't think I broke anything..."
Marcus traced his thumb just below the bruised eye, his irritation slowly dissolving into an appreciative purr. "He's incredibly lucky he looks so magnificent... even bruised like this," Marcus relented. His dark aviators drifted downward, scanning the length of Gabe’s sprawled, rope-bound torso before settling on his groin. A deeply satisfied smile broke through his neat beard. "What a beautiful cock... a masterpiece on its own."
Marcus withdrew his arm, letting Gabe’s shoulders drop. The unconscious coach's head lolled limply back against the cushion, his bruised face pointing blindly toward the darkening sky.
Marcus leaned in closer. With one hand, he lifted the heavy, thick meat of Gabe’s resting cock, feeling its dense weight. With the index finger of his other hand, he slowly, deliberately traced the prominent, bulging veins that snaked along the broad shaft. "I can already imagine these details in hard stone," Marcus whispered, captivated. "He will be spectacular." In the background, the silent, golden-etched arm of Alistair stood frozen, a testament to that very promise.
Boris watched his boss's meticulous examination with undeniable admiration. Silas, however, kept his bruised face turned away, his eyes locked on the floor as if pitying the helpless, battered man bound before them.
Marcus caught the shift in energy. He paused, turning his aviators toward the young worker. "What's wrong, kid? Something bothering you?"
Silas swallowed hard, avoiding the boss's gaze. "No... nothing... I'm fine..." he mumbled, shooting a desperate, pleading look at Boris for help.
Boris stepped in quickly. "Boss, the kid here just hasn't ever seen your process up close... he's just not used to it."
"Come here," Marcus commanded Silas, his tone leaving no room for refusal. He gestured back to Gabe's lap. "Do you see these veins right here? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to achieve this level of organic detail in standard sculpting? Come here. Touch it."
Silas froze. "No... I..." he hesitated, his voice trembling.
Marcus didn't say a word. He simply leveled a cold, piercing glare at Boris.
Understanding immediately, Boris gave Silas a hard shove between the shoulder blades. "Get over there."
Stumbling forward, Silas nervously reached out. His trembling fingers made contact with Gabe's thick shaft, tracing the heavy flesh that was, inevitably, beginning to swell and harden under the friction, despite Gabe’s deep, unconscious state.
"What do you think?" Marcus pressed, watching the worker's flushed face.
"It's... um... a really impressive cock..." Silas blurted out, quickly pulling his hand back.
Marcus burst into genuine, booming laughter, the sound echoing across the terrace. After a nervous second, Boris joined in with a cautious chuckle.
"This kid, Boris..." Marcus laughed, shaking his head. "I really don't know where you find them."
"Yes, boss..." Boris laughed nervously.
Dismissing the workers, Marcus shifted his attention back to Gabe’s broad torso. His hands roamed possessively over the dark, sweaty mat of chest hair, his fingers finding the hard nubs hidden within. "Beautiful nipples..." he murmured, lightly pinching and rolling the erect peaks between his fingertips. He moved his hands lower, pressing his fingers deeply into the carved, muscular grooves of Gabe’s abdominal muscles, feeling the hard ridges of the six-pack just above the scorpion tattoo.
"Perfect," Marcus whispered to the unconscious man, his hands gripping the thick muscle. "Simply perfect."