By lthr_jock
Without thinking, Clark stood up which made Greg curse angrily and use his crop on Clark’s leathered arse. Clark reflexively knelt down again and flushed bright red as Vickers laughed. Greg glared down at him and paused before looking back up at Vickers.
“Hold on, did you just call him Samuel?”
Vickers grinned an evil little smile and nodded. Greg let out a roar of laughter which made several people close by look up from their own conversations.
“You mean to tell me that the man I have been pestering you about for 2 months is right here kneeling at my feet.”
Vickers joined in the laugher. “Yes – and from the look of it Samuel has had quite the evening.”
Greg chuckled and stroked Clarks hair, ignoring the increasingly urgent grunts that were coming from the restrained man.
“Damn. I’ve wanted to get him into some of my gear for ages. See – I was right – it suits him.”
“I never doubted it would.”
“MPPPHHH!”
Greg didn’t look down, just rapped the tip of his crop against the faceplate of Clark’s muzzle. “Quiet, boi, your betters are talking.”
Clark ignored this and continued to grunt into the gag. Greg frowned at him and with one hand behind Clarks head, used the other one to pinch his nose shut. Clark then realised how secure he was trussed up as he struggled vainly within the straitjacket, his booted feet slipping on the floor. He could get some air in past the gag in his mouth, but his struggles increased his need for air and Gregs control over his nose meant that he couldn’t get it. He struggled harder and harder until Greg released his grip. He gasped air in through his nose, coughing and spluttering around the drool in his mouth. Greg knelt down so that he could hear him whisper.
