Honestly, this was a bit of a test.

Jack had been training Rhys’ stamina for quite a while now, but this party would be the ultimate means of determining whether all that had worked.

Rhys stood on all fours between one of the pairs of leather couches in a corner of the party away from the main traffic streaming in from the double doors. Jack stood nearby, ensuring his lover’s safety as well as watching Rhys for signs of weakness. He could see the slight tremble in his limbs from this close but Rhys still held firm, his wrists and ankles held at a steady distance apart by two elegant gold spreader bars.

A bottle of wine and a couple undisturbed glasses sat atop the panel strapped to Rhys’ back, held still by his straight, trained posture. Jack watched people walk by, glancing in disgust or morbid interest in Rhys’ direction but he cared little about their opinions. If they wanted to attend his parties, they’d have to play by his rules.

“Well, if no one’s gonna be brave enough to have a drink with me…might as well be the firs to crack this open.” Jack took a seat in one of the large chairs, leather squeaking underneath his weight as he reached for the wine and corkscrew sitting near the edge of the “table” sitting just above Rhys’ ass. He couldn’t resist a small stroke to his lower’s leather clad cheeks before popping the cork out of the bottle neck.

“You must be thirsty, huh Rhysie? Too bad, though,” Jack addressed his lover’s bowed head. No noise came from behind the gag covering his mouth, and the blindfold made it hard to read Rhys’ expression in any meaningful fashion. The trembling in his legs and arms continued but he still held steady.

“If you make it, though, you’ll be handsomely rewarded later. Get it?” Jack purred as he sloshed the dark red wine into the glass, gazing at Rhys over the rim. “I’ll be screwing you in all the ways you’ve craving right now, you sicko.”

He could see Rhys’ bulge hanging heavy in his leather shorts, a sure sign Rhys didn’t hate being on display and made to submit like an object. Jack smirked, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a sip of the lukewarm, syrupy liquid.

“Just another couple hours, pumpkin.” Jack nudged the toe of his dress shoe against Rhys bound wrist as he smacked his lips, feeling the alcohol join the amused feeling in his stomach.