Hellish, humiliating--it was exactly what was needed under the circumstances. Eliot had thought that he could keep fighting back despite the circumstances, but Sam knew there would be no success until he had established firm ground rules. Disobedience would result in pain, it was really just that simple.

Eliot got the pain, and he got the discomfort of being forced to hold his position despite the agony, and because Sam had already come once, his second orgasm seemed to take forever. He held Eliot up through every moment, despite the pressure and pain it would apply to his good shoulder to do so, and he kept moving steadily until he spilled over with an anticlimatic grunt.

He shoved Eliot away from him briskly, fighting back his own exhaustion and wobbling back up to his feet, putting enough distance between them to drop his back against the wall beside the door. He'd have to gather Eliot up to take him back to their room, to the crate he'd promised him as a bed, but he'd give Eliot time to nurse his wounds while he recovered from his own orgasm.