Chapter 161: Bound and Used as the Toll -2

He gave a slow nod to what the Tollkeeper said and the other two muttered in agreement.

Their eyes kept returning to Kael anyway. He felt every glance like a physical weight. His breathing had gone shallow again. Goosebumps rose along his arms despite the residual heat in his skin.

The knowledge that he was being assessed as he was hard, naked, marked and kneeling, sent a fresh pulse of shame and unwanted heat low in his gut.

The Tollkeeper walked back to him without hurry. He stopped close enough that Kael had to tip his head back to meet his eyes.

For a moment the man simply looked at him, reading the flush in his face, the tightness of his jaw, the way his cock still stood flushed and leaking against his stomach.

Then he reached down and wrapped his hand around it again.

Kael’s whole body jerked. A raw sound escaped before he could lock it down.

The travelers went quiet. The Tollkeeper’s grip was steady, almost thoughtful, stroking once from base to head with deliberate pressure.

Kael’s thighs trembled. His hips wanted to push forward. He forced them still, pulse hammering so hard he could feel it in his throat against the collar.

The Tollkeeper spoke without looking away from him, voice pitched for the men to hear.

"He arrived with nothing. No fuel. No meds. Only this." Another slow stroke. Kael’s breath hitched.

"So he pays in flesh. He stays hard. He doesn’t come. He takes what I give him."

He released Kael’s cock and stepped behind him instead. The flogger whispered through the air again.

The first stroke landed across the already-tender skin of Kael’s upper back. The second followed after a pause long enough for the travelers to see the way Kael’s muscles jumped, the way his cock twitched hard in open air.

It was more like he was displaying for them to be willing enough to pay and participate personally in the demonstration.

Kael’s head dropped forward. Sweat slid down the side of his neck. Every nerve felt scraped raw.

The awareness of being watched layered over the physical burn until the two became the same thing - heat, exposure, the slow erosion of any place to hide.

His cock ached with every heartbeat. Precome beaded at the tip and dripped onto the dirt between his knees.

When the Tollkeeper finally stopped, he fisted a hand in Kael’s hair and pulled his head up so the travelers could see his face.

Kael’s eyes were glassy. His mouth was open. A flush rode high on his cheekbones. He looked wrecked and he knew it.

One of the men shifted his weight. Another’s hand tightened on the strap of his pack. No one spoke.

The Tollkeeper’s free hand slid down Kael’s chest, over his stomach, and closed around his cock once more.

Three slow, tight strokes and Kael’s breath shattered.

His hips jerked helplessly this time. He was right there - right at the edge, body straining, vision tunneling....

Then the hand disappeared.

Kael made a broken, desperate sound. The denial hit harder than the flogger.

His cock throbbed in the open air, untouched, glistening. His thighs shook with the effort of not thrusting into nothing.

The Tollkeeper held him there by the hair, letting the travelers look their fill at the picture he made: kneeling, marked, dripping, denied.

The Tollkeeper released Kael’s hair. He crouched in front of him again, close, studying the fine tremor in Kael’s muscles, the wetness at the tip of his cock, the way his chest still rose and fell too fast.

"Still hard," he observed. Almost mild.

"Still aching." His gloved thumb brushed once across the head, collecting the wetness there, and Kael’s whole body flinched at the light contact.

"Good. Open your mouth for."

Kael opened.

"Wider"

He did as instructed.

Then the Tollkeeper slowly shoved the thumb, now coated with cum, into his mouth.

"Lick it."

And Kael licked it thoroughly, as though that was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

The Tollkeeper stood and spoke.

"We’re not finished."

The three men had gone quiet while the Tollkeeper worked Kael over.

They had already handed over the fuel and the meds. The basic toll was paid. They were free to leave. Instead they stayed where they were, eyes fixed on the man kneeling in the dirt - collar chained short to the post, wrists locked behind his back, knees forced wide, cock flushed and dripping from the denial. Every small sound Kael made seemed to pull them tighter.

One of them, the tallest, cleared his throat. His voice came out rougher than before.

"What does it cost to touch?"

The Tollkeeper didn’t answer immediately. He finished the last slow stroke of the flogger across Kael’s thighs, then let the falls hang loose at his side.

He looked at the three men the same way he had looked at Kael earlier, like he was measuring them.

"Depends on what you want to do with him."

The tall one glanced at the others. They both nodded once, quick and hungry. He turned back.

"We want everything. Whatever you’ll allow."

The Tollkeeper considered it. His gaze dropped to Kael again, lingering on the tremor in his thighs, the wet shine at the tip of his cock, the way his chest still rose too fast.

Kael felt that look like another layer of heat. His pulse hammered against the collar. He couldn’t close his legs. He couldn’t turn away. The chain from his throat to the post kept him exactly where he was.

"Extra fuel," the Tollkeeper said at last.

"And the rest of the meds in that kit. All of it. Then you get hands and mouths only. Nothing inside him. Nothing that marks him further without my say. You stop when I tell you to stop. Clear?"

The three men didn’t hesitate. The med kit was opened and emptied. Another dented can of fuel was set in the dirt. The Tollkeeper checked both without comment, then gave a short nod.

"He’s yours to use. Within the rules."

They moved in.