Chapter 110: Training the omega -2

Darius left Lucien kneeling for several long minutes. He moved around the room at an unhurried pace, selecting a few items from the low cabinet against the wall. Lucien stayed exactly as ordered - chest up, knees spread, cock standing rigid and marked, a thin thread of precome still connecting the tip to the mat. His breathing had steadied into a shallow, controlled rhythm, but every muscle in his thighs and abdomen remained tight with denied need.

Darius returned and stood in front of him again. In one hand he held a short length of soft black rope; in the other, a slender silicone plug already slick with lubricant.

"Look at what you have done to yourself." He nudged the underside of Lucien’s cock with the toe of his boot, making the shaft sway. "Still hard. Still dripping. You have not been given permission to soften."

He bent over and took the rope lying on the floor.

With practiced movements he tied it around the base of Lucien’s cock and balls, pulling the heavy sac forward and binding everything into a tight, restricted package. The pressure was immediate and intense. Lucien’s cock darkened further, the head swelling above the constriction. Darius finished the knot with a firm tug and checked the tension with two fingers.

"Breathe through it."

Lucien did. The rope held him painfully hard, the pulse visible along the underside vein.

Darius coated two fingers with more lubricant and reached between Lucien’s spread thighs. He pressed the slick fingertips against the tight ring of muscle and pushed in without preamble.

Lucien’s body clenched around the intrusion; Darius worked the fingers deeper, scissoring once, twice, then curling them to press firmly against the sensitive spot inside.

Lucien’s bound cock jerked hard against the rope, a fresh pulse of fluid spilling over the head.

"Stay open for me."

Darius withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the slick plug.

He seated it slowly, watching Lucien’s face as the widest part stretched him open and then settled into place.

The base of the plug rested flush against his body, the weight of it shifting with every small movement.

Darius gave the base a firm press, making Lucien’s hips twitch.

"Good. Now you will stay filled while I use your mouth again."

He stood, freed his cock once more, and stepped forward.

This time he offered no gradual entry. He pushed straight into Lucien’s open mouth until the head met resistance at the back of the throat, then held there.

Lucien’s eyes watered; his throat worked convulsively around the thick length. Darius kept one hand steady on the back of Lucien’s head and began a measured rhythm - deep, controlled thrusts that forced Lucien to take him fully on every stroke.

Saliva ran freely down Lucien’s chin and dripped onto his own bound cock below.

Between thrusts Darius spoke in a low, even voice.

"You will not come. You will not soften. You will keep that plug seated and that cock hard for me until I decide you have earned more."

He fucked Lucien’s mouth with deliberate precision, never rushing, never losing control.

Each time Lucien’s gag reflex tightened around him, Darius simply held deeper for a count of three before easing back just enough to let him breathe.

Lucien’s own cock remained painfully erect inside the rope, the head glistening and dark, the plug shifting inside him with every involuntary clench of his body.

After several minutes Darius pulled free. A thick strand of saliva and precome connected Lucien’s swollen lips to the head of Darius’s cock.

He wiped it across Lucien’s cheek with the side of his thumb, then stepped behind him again.

He gripped the base of the plug and began to work it in short, firm thrusts - pulling it nearly free, then seating it deep again.

At the same time his other hand closed around Lucien’s bound shaft and gave it three slow, tight strokes, exactly enough to make Lucien’s entire body shudder.

Then he stopped completely, leaving both the plug and the rope in place.

"Still waiting. Still mine."

Darius walked around once more and crouched so their faces were level. He took Lucien’s chin in one hand and forced his gaze up.

"You are going to stay exactly like this while I decide how I want to take you. Bound. Filled. Hard. Leaking. You will not move until I tell you to. Do you understand?"

Lucien’s voice was rough, thick with saliva and strain. "Yes, Sir."

Darius held his gaze for another long moment, then released him and stepped back. Lucien remained on his knees, the rope tight around his cock and balls, the plug seated deep inside him, his mouth wet and open, his body trembling with the sharp, unfinished need Darius had deliberately left unfinished.

Darius let the silence stretch until Lucien’s breathing had grown uneven again. Then he moved with quiet purpose. He unlocked the cuffs from Lucien’s wrists, only to guide his arms forward and re-cuff them in front of his body. The short chain between the cuffs kept his hands limited, unable to reach his own cock.

"On your feet. Slowly."

Lucien rose, legs stiff from kneeling. The plug shifted inside him with the change in posture; the rope around his cock and balls pulled tighter for a moment before settling. His shaft stood rigid, the head dark and wet above the binding.

Darius pointed to the low padded bench against the wall. "Bend over it. Chest down. Legs spread. Present yourself properly."

Lucien obeyed without hesitation. He draped himself over the bench, ass raised, the base of the plug visible between his cheeks. Darius stepped behind him and rested one hand on the small of his back, holding him in place. With the other he gripped the plug and began to work it in slow, deliberate thrusts—pulling it almost free so the widest part stretched the rim, then seating it deep again. Each movement made Lucien’s bound cock bounce and drip onto the floor.

After a full minute of this, Darius withdrew the plug completely and set it aside. Lucien’s hole remained open, slick and ready. Darius coated his own cock with fresh lubricant, the thick length already hard from the earlier use of Lucien’s mouth. He stepped in close, one hand spreading Lucien’s cheeks, and pressed the head against the stretched entrance.

"You will take every inch when I give it. You will not push back. You will not close around me until I allow it. Breathe."

He pushed forward in one steady, controlled motion. The head breached the ring of muscle; the shaft followed, thick and unyielding, until Darius was buried to the base. Lucien’s breath left him in a sharp, broken exhale. The rope around his cock and balls kept him painfully hard even as the fullness inside him forced a deep, involuntary clench.

Darius held still, fully seated, one hand firm on Lucien’s hip. "Feel that. You are open for me. You are filled. Your cock is still hard because I have not given you permission to do anything else."

He began to move slowly with deep strokes that dragged almost completely out before driving back in to the hilt.

Each thrust was measured and deliberate. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the quiet room.

Darius’s free hand reached under and closed around Lucien’s bound shaft, gripping it tightly without stroking. The pressure alone made Lucien shudder.

"You will stay hard while I fuck you. You will feel every inch and you will not come."

Lucien nodded.

The pace remained controlled. Darius fucked him with long, precise thrusts, adjusting the angle until he found the spot that made Lucien’s thighs tremble and his bound cock pulse hard in Darius’s grip. Precome ran freely from the tip, coating Darius’s fingers. He used that wetness to stroke once - firm, from base to head - then stopped again, leaving Lucien shaking.

"Still waiting. Still mine."

He increased the depth but not the speed, driving in hard enough that Lucien’s body rocked against the bench with every stroke. The rope kept Lucien’s cock restricted and dark, the head swollen and leaking.

Darius’s own breathing stayed even, his focus absolute. He fucked Lucien through the stretch and the fullness, through the sharp edge of denied orgasm, until Lucien’s voice broke into raw, helpless sounds against the padding.

Darius leaned over him, chest to back, and spoke against his ear while still buried deep.

"You will take this until I decide you have had enough. You will keep that cock hard for me. And when I finally let you come, it will be because I chose it - not because you needed it."

He resumed the slow, relentless rhythm, one hand still locked around Lucien’s bound shaft, the other braced on the bench beside Lucien’s head.

The room filled with the wet sound of the fucking, the soft creak of the bench, and Lucien’s strained breathing as he remained open, filled, and denied exactly as ordered.