Yothin grabbed at the back of Maciste’s neck, pulled on it, nails digging in. His prisoner’s body had little give in it, so tightly stretched. The slight grunt said he had got the prisoner’s attention. Holding up another needle, a shared point of interest for the two of them.
Keeping his eyes on the glare from his tethered beast until the last moment, Yothin repeated the move. Three times already he’d dipped the tip of the needle into the proffered cup. Ostentatiously he swirled it round, coated it well with a thick threat of poisonous latex.
Playing on the prick’s growing fears, Yothin was holding it upright, seeing his prisoner’s gaze taut on the murderous tip. Already, deep under muscle, the fires were burning. Slowly he lowered the tip of the needle. This time he targeted the other nipple. Hard with the flames inside. Nerves solid with his fears.
Glancing up quickly Yothin satisfied himself that his prisoner was no longer taking this lightly. He relished how the prick’s gaze had followed the path of the needle. Now his prisoner was looking down .. studying the muscular lift of his chest .. intently concentrated on the tip hovering over his helpless nipple. The latex clung in thick drips to the steel. Anticipating more fires to be lit inside his man-proud flesh. Shamed .. pierced like some ox. Stuck like a pig.
Yothin waited. He’d judged the timing right. Already the prick was beginning to feel the heat inside him build. Taunting Yothin let the threat hover over the stretched brown skin. He tickled the nerve-firm nub with the needle. Coaxing stimulation out of threat with the sharp tip. Passing the needle back and forth .. seeing the resistance from a nub hard with fears. He was rewarded when his prisoner’s patience ran out. He’d been holding his breath. But he’d had to suck in air. Taut in his body for the next prick of poisonous torture into his skin. The prisoner looked up, they locked eyes. Yothin had him worried, he saw. This tough warrior, already he feared the next prick of the needle against his skin. He feared the burning from that tincture deep in his muscled chest. But exasperated too about the delay. Tired of Yothin’s little tricks.
A sudden stab. Taken unawares. Yothin’s trick had caught him off guard. Stabbed him right into the nub. The surprise made the chest twitch. Released a hiss of shock. His head flashed downwards, his gaze tore at the hand holding the needle into his nipple. His manhood shamed. Played with. Toyed with. All this muscular might in fear of a pin.
Waiting. Waiting for the effects. The prick was quivering to feel the burning begin in his flesh. But the needle was only just inside. Yothin had stopped it .. piercing the solid firmness of his nub. Sneering into his prisoner’s face. Reading the anxiety there .. as he waited for the burn. The prick’s impatience ran out.
Such curses were nothing. There’d be many more. And the fires would be deeper inside.
Yothin pushed. The fineness of the steel tip slid effortlessly inside. But still it had the prick hissing. Pressed further in, effortless smooth. Stopping when a finger’s length of needle had pierced its way deep under hard-muscled flesh.
Yothin waited. He could see his victim’s eyes on the wooden end of the needle. There would be much more needle-length to go inside. But both waited for the burn. Both trembling for that first moment .. the one man with dread, the other relishing that look of dread. Both tense for that first onset of raging pain that would ignite the nerves of the body deep under that muscle-solid mound.
But Yothin had other mind-games to play. Taunting he rattled his box of needles.
“I reckoned a tough motherfucker like you …… you can take lots of these ….”
Suddenly the back of his hand gave the upper arm hard slap. Already inflamed with a needle piercing the muscle from front to back. Pierced right through, inflamed, the poisons alive in his blood.
Yothin smirked. The prisoner gasped. His eyes opened with the shock. A sharp spark of pain exploded. The blasts shuddered the length of his arm. The hand burst open with the shock of pain. Fingers splayed wide with the blistering pain.
“Stubborn as an ox. Pig-headed. Who’s going to take a good deal of persuading …. Eh? Am I right? Or am I right?” He smirked.
The box rattled menacing. Dozens of needles clattered together.
“No point in doing half-a-job …”
His prisoner’s eyes spat venom. Yothin smiled to himself. Not as much venom as this fucker was going to get.