"I asked, who told you?" Marcus repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerously soft whisper.
"No... I... can't..." Gabe mumbled, his resistance a pale, melting shadow of the man he had been just an hour ago.
"You can, my dear... come, let me show you how wonderful it feels when you finally surrender." Marcus shifted his hand, wrapping his long fingers around Gabe’s semi-erect, rope-bound cock. He began a slow, agonizingly deliberate stroke up and down the thick shaft.
"Ohhh.... ahhh..." Gabe gasped, his broad chest arching into the tight Shibari ropes as if he were experiencing physical touch for the very first time in his life.
"Yes... feel that... tell me you love it. You do, don't you?" Marcus murmured, his aviators reflecting Gabe's flushed, bruised face.
Gabe groaned louder, his heavy body straining against the intricate knots as his arousal skyrocketed. Under the expert friction, his cock hardened rapidly to a thick, throbbing rigidity he had never felt before.
"Yes... yes..." he breathed, blindly chasing the sensation as Marcus maintained the agonizingly perfect rhythm.
Suddenly, Marcus stopped all movement, his hand clamping down hard around the base of Gabe’s pulsing shaft.
"Ahhhhh.... more... please, more..." Gabe whined, his bruised face twisting in a beautiful, pathetic mix of pleasure and desperation.
"Do you want more, kid?"
"Yes... more... please...."
"Then tell me. Who told you Trent was here with me?"
"More... please...."
Marcus squeezed the base just a fraction tighter. "Tell me!"
Gabe let out a strangled cry of mingled pain and absolute ecstasy. Unable to fight the overwhelming chemical fog and the crushing physical need, his glazed eyes rolled sideways, landing directly on Silas.
Silas froze, staring back at the bound man in sheer, unadulterated terror.
Marcus tracked the exchange perfectly. He didn't say a word, merely shooting a swift, lethal glance over his shoulder at his foreman.
"Fucking idiot!" Boris hissed. In a flash of motion, Boris drew a compact taser from his belt and drove the prongs deep into the side of Silas's neck.
A harsh electric crackle split the air, and Silas crumpled to the stone patio like a felled tree, instantly unconscious.
"I don't know what to say, boss! I had nothing to do with this," Boris scrambled to explain, panic bleeding into his rough voice.
"Where do you keep finding these imbeciles? This is the third one this year!" Marcus said, his voice carrying a freezing, absolute calm as he stared down at Silas’s limp body.
Boris fell utterly silent. He quickly pulled a handful of heavy-duty zip-ties from his pocket and began binding Silas’s wrists and ankles.
"You were very good, my dear..." Marcus whispered, returning his full attention to Gabe. He resumed the slow, maddening friction of his hand against the rock-hard flesh.
"Ahhh.... fuck...." Gabe sobbed, his eyes rolling back as the pleasure spiked dangerously high.
"Just a drop!" Marcus commanded sharply.
Gabe’s massive body gave a violent, involuntary buck. From the broad, flushed slit of his cock, a single, thick, pearlescent drop of white semen pulsed out.
"Stop!" Marcus ordered.
Gabe froze instantly, his body locking into a rigid, quivering state of a ruined, permanently suspended orgasm. The single drop was so thick and viscous that it didn't even run down the shaft; it simply stood there, perched proudly and perfectly on the very tip of his engorged head.
Marcus slid his arm up, lifting Gabe’s bruised head from the cushion so they could look down at the prize together. Gabe stared at the single drop of pleasure Marcus had allowed him, his eyes shining with a dazed, euphoric reverence. A wide, breathtaking smile plastered across his face.
"Enjoy it, kid," Marcus said softly, finally releasing his hold and standing up from the lounger.
He adjusted Gabe’s heavy, bound form, propping him up against the elevated backrest. Gabe's thick ankles remained bound tightly together with heavy rope, and Alistair—the golden-etched obsidian giant—stood in the immediate background, a silent sentry to Gabe's total humiliation. Gabe remained exactly where Marcus left him, his glazed eyes physically incapable of looking away from the gleaming bead of cum on his own cock.
"Boss, I really don't know what to say..." Boris started again, still kneeling by the zip-tied Silas.
"Shhh... not now. Right now, I need you to take that downstairs," Marcus interrupted, gesturing dismissively at Silas.
"And what about him?" Boris asked, both men looking over at the mesmerizing, motionless display of Gabe on the lounger.
"Leave him here for another hour. Let him enjoy this state," Marcus decided.
"And then?" Boris asked.
"And then take him down for processing. I want him shaved completely smooth from the neck down. And give him a haircut—keep it short."
Boris nodded obediently, hoisting Silas’s dead weight off the stone floor.
"And Boris..." Marcus called out, his tall, shirtless frame towering in the fading twilight.
"Boss?" Boris looked up, shifting the unconscious worker on his shoulder.
"The next fuck-up..." Marcus said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, arctic chill. "...I'm putting you in the freezer. Deep in the back."
Boris didn't dare respond. He simply lowered his eyes, swallowed hard, and hauled Silas toward the service elevator.