Richard groaned as he opened his eyes and sat up. His shoulder ached where he'd rolled over in the night. Luckily, he'd only half rolled onto it, but the change in position had made it stiff and sore as he eased his arm against his chest. As if wired to pick up his distress, Hank's blue eyes fluttered opened, and he pushed himself up on one arm. Since they were both awake and Richard was already in pain, Hank sat up and took his hand and elbow to being his morning exercises. They were still painful, making him hiss and grit his teeth as Hank led his arm in small circles and bent and stretched the joint.

"How is it feeling? Do you need anything?" Richard knew what he meant. He was asking if he needed any pain relief. Shaking his head, Richard returned his arm to the sling and cradled it against his chest. He'd managed without more than a little ibuprofen so far, and the swelling wasn't that bad anymore. Hank left him to get breakfast ready, giving him time to stew over the night before. Despite telling him he owed him a forfeit, Hank hadn't collected. His eyes had suggested he might more than once throughout the evening, but after dinner and a short break for Hank to walk Connor and Sumo, he hadn't tried anything.

They'd passed a few hours reading books and watching television, showered with some difficulty, and gone to bed. Even in bed, Hank had made no move to force him into that ridiculous tail. Good! Maybe he'd actually respect his opinion this time. He did his best to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that reminded him how much he'd enjoyed it the last time Hank had suggested they try something new. Although he hadn't enjoyed being tied to the bed, unable to leave, wearing the plug had been a curious experience.

"Seems like a nice day," Hank said as he returned with a tray of tea and toast. Richard hummed in agreement as he looked out the window. Although there were clouds on the horizon, it was still pretty blue where they were. Hank watched as Richard took some toast and started nibbling at the marmite triangle with his usual ferrety bites. He seemed a little tired, hair still mussed from sleep, pyjamas crumpled from turning in his sleep. That was unusual, considering his injury. For the past week, he'd been stuck on his back, unable to turn. It seemed the pain was easing off a little if he could turn over without waking up. "A nice day to collect what I'm owed." Richard almost choked on his tea at that, dark eyes thinning as he waited.

"Collect what?" They both knew what. Hack chuckled softly as he joined him on the bed.

"You know." Richard glared at that. He did know, but he didn't think it was entirely fair. He also didn't have to go along with it. Hank gave him a softer look that assured him he knew both of these things, but he was still going to push him until he hit his limit. Richard looked away, trying to shake off the way Hank seemed to stare right inside his head. He seemed to understand things he didn't even acknowledge about himself. Dark eyes fluttered as a worn hand stroked through his hair with the pretence of tidying it. "Finish your breakfast while I pick out some clothes for you to wear."

Richard did as he was told, quietly enjoying the combination of the bitter spread and tea. He couldn't help being curious as his dark eyes followed Hank to the closet, surprised as he took out one of his plain white shirts. Are we going somewhere? He rarely wore those unless he had a business meeting or some sort of event. Hank turned the plain-looking shirt this way and that before holding it up for inspection.

"Are you...attached to this one?" Richard frowned and tilted his head. "I mean, is it expensive or important?" Richard shook his head. It was just a shirt. The more expensive ones were zipped in the suit bags with their accompanying suits. The shirt Hank had picked out was just a simple office shirt with buttoned cuffs. Hank seemed pleased as he set it on the bed and moved to rummage through the drawers. Richard raised an eyebrow as he triumphantly plucked out a set of shirt and sock garters.

"Are we...going somewhere?" Richard was utterly perplexed as Hank chuckled to himself and added a pair of socks into the mix. The response very much suggested they were going somewhere, but perhaps not a place that Richard might think of. Richard was deeply suspicious as Hank dropped a set of jeans on the bed. "You forgot boxers." Hank smirked. He did not forget. Richard felt his cheeks heat.

"Nu-uh-uh. Forfeit, remember?" If he'd had both arms, Richard would have folded them and pouted in protest. Instead, he took another sip of tea and pointedly looked anywhere but at Hank. Once he finished his breakfast, it was time to dress for the day. A task he was not looking forward to. He could hear the amusement in Hank's voice as he approached and asked for his feet. Richard held them out one at a time and pretended he wasn't paying attention as Hank gently slipped his socks on. His large fingers were surprisingly nimble as he clipped the sock garters around his calves and strapped his socks in place.

Richard stiffened a little as Hank took his good arm and led him to his feet. He couldn't help the flush in his cheeks as he pushed his pyjama bottoms and boxers down. The light breeze from the window made his cock twitch, and it didn't help that those creeping hands slipped over his hips to caress his bare ass. Hank let out a satisfied hum at the feel of his soft skin. It was a shame he had to restrain himself. The risk of hurting Richard's arm was too high. He smirked as he unbuttoned the pyjama shirt, enjoying the little shivers that ran through him and how his nipples pebbled. It was almost a shame that he was putting a fresh shirt on, but it would be worth it once the garters were in place.

"What exactly is all this for?" Waiting patiently as Hank buttoned his shirt, Richard couldn't quite figure it out. Why dress him up in all this if he wasn't going to be wearing a suit? Hank took a little extra time fitting the shirt garters, pinging each strap to make sure they was good and tight. That was his excuse, anyway. In reality, he was enjoying the little gasps and whines that fled Richard's lips, and the way the sting made his cock twitch.

"You really don't know?" Richard stumbled a little as Hank hurried him over to the full-length mirror and stood him in front of it. He didn't see anything particularly special. It just looked like he was part way through getting dressed, with no pants. It seemed Hank followed his line of thought as a large hand reached around to cup and fondle him, dragging him back until his bare ass met denim. "Fuck, you're a treat for the eyes with all these straps." Richard moaned as Hank squeezed and turned his body so that his ass faced the mirror. "Especially here." A large hand patted his ass, warming the pale flesh and making it jiggle. Richard didn't know what to say to such an odd compliment, which made Hank chuckle and give his balls a parting squeeze. "As for the plan, you'll have to be a good boy and see."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret this?" Hank chuckled softly as he grabbed Richard's jeans and held them ready.

"You won't, and even if you do, at least you tried it out and had fun." Fun was very much a relative term. One that Richard didn't put much stock in. What exactly were they going to be trying? Another game like before? If that was the case, why were they going outside? He remained reluctant as he stepped into his jeans, which were less comfortable without pants. There was a reason he didn't go commando. Seeing his discomfort, Hank smirked. "Don't worry, I'll have you out of those soon enough." Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He might have said as much if Hank hadn't chosen that moment to usher him out of the bedroom.

"Where are we going?" Hank wouldn't give him a definitive answer as he walked him to the back door and set out a set of shoes. Smart shoes. Not his good pair. The lightly worn black pair he used for less important meetings. Raising an eyebrow, Richard paused and looked up at Hank.

"You'll need shoes." He'd need shoes, but the jeans were temporary? That was less than reassuring. Still, he was curious enough to go along with it for now. When they first stepped outside, he thought Hank might lead him to the fence and take him out to the fields, but to his surprise, he led him around the house to the stables instead. As they entered the yard, Hank continued on to the right, straight for the old barn. "Think you can climb?" What happened to yelling at him for being reckless? "I'll be right behind you, don't worry." Oh, well, that makes things much better...

"Why are we going up there?" As far as he knew, it was just an old storage space that Hank and Allen had been sorting out. Was that it? He needed help to decide what to do with the stuff up there? If that was the case, why had he dressed him up?

"You'll see. Come on now." Richard's stomach churned anxiously as he approached the ladder. "Attaboy." He remained suspicious as he climbed the first rung, and Hank's smirk didn't make him feel any better as he pressed up behind. It didn't seem entirely wise for him to be climbing a ladder with only one arm, but he felt safe and secure with Hank behind him. They were so close that he could feel Hank's belly against his back, his strong thighs ready to catch him if he fell. The climb was obviously a little slower than usual, and Hank's hand on his hip supported him each time he released the rung to climb higher. Getting on to the platform was actually the hardest part because he couldn't pull himself up anymore. He ended up crawling unceremoniously on his hand and knees, shuffling clear so Hank could climb up behind him. "Up we go." Hank's hand on his good arm hauled him upright and patted him on the shoulder, looking around with a certain amount of pride.

"What the fuck?" Richard had no other words as he looked around, jaw slack in a cross between horror and confusion. It looked like an odd cross between a farm and a torture chamber. There was a lot of wooden equipment, and some metal, all carefully packed away and fastened to the walls unless it was fixed in place, but he had no idea what it was all for. There were even two relatively small stalls, which would be no good for farm animals. How would farm animals even climb up to the loft anyway?

"What do you think?" Hank seemed somewhat anxious as he asked the question. Richard wasn't sure how to answer as he walked over to the stalls for a closer look. He could tell Hank and Allen had been hard at work. The straw on the floor was fresh, and the wood had recently been sanded and varnished. It was dry, but that freshly painted smell still lingered in the air.

"What is all this?" Walking into one of the stalls, Richard frowned. There was a wooden gate that would swing shut behind and enough space to walk five paces before meeting a padded leather beam that reached his hips so precisely that it might have been made for him. Beyond that was a curious wooden board with two small holes and one large, which seemed to open on a hinge. The larger hole was lined with the same padding as the beam, which made Richard curious as he rested his hand on the soft leather.

"I didn't know either when I first saw it. I needed Allen to clue me in." The news that Allen was involved set off alarm bells. If Allen knew what it was, then it likely had some nefarious purpose. "Here, I'll show you." Ducking under the beam, Hank opened the hinged plank and waved him closer. "Bend over with your head here, and your good arm here." Despite the compromising position that would leave him in, Richard trusted Hank to not take advantage as he did as asked. The fit was perfect. There was exactly the right space for him to rest his hips comfortably on the leather beam and put his neck on the leather rest. His heart sped up as the wood snapped shut over his head with a dull clack, trapping him in place. He frowned a little as his forehead came to rest on another soft leather cushion, effectively holding his head up for him. It was strangely comfortable.

"It's for...people?" Richard frowned, unable to see Hank over the wooden beam as he turned his head.

"You sound confused." He was confused. Why would there be a stall like this in the loft? The use dawned on him as a large hand trailed down his back and patted his ass. A grunt slipped out as he tried to lift his head, but the stockade had now been locked in place. There was a playful chuckle as Hank ducked to the other side and pressed up behind, gripping his hips and nudging his ass. "You get it now?" Richard licked his lips nervously as he tried to free his hand. "Someone had quite the little setup in here..."

"For...sex?" He was more than a little relieved as the stockade clicked open and Hank lifted it off. Richard pushed himself up quickly, trying not to seem too nervous as he looked around.

"Yeah...Have to say, that old man was the last person I'd expect to have a setup like this. Makes me wonder if some of those farmhands got a little too comfortable around here." Richard shrugged. He didn't know much about the previous owner besides that he was old, retired, and moved into assisted living. Selling the farm had gone to pay for that. "Come on, there's more to see." Hank certainly seemed keen as he led the way out of the first stall. There were chains and straps across the walls at various heights for various suspensions and positions, and it looked like they could be unhooked and moved around as needed.

"What's this?" Richard asked as they reached the first bulky item. It was a lot like the thing in the stalls, only freestanding with cuffs for ankles at the bottom. Hank unlatched and opened it to show him, but didn't make him get in this time.

"A stockade. Basically, the same as the one in the stall, but without the cosy bar. Makes me think the stall was used mostly for sleeping." Sleeping? They left people in there to sleep on their feet like animals? "Hey, some people like it," Hank excused with a shrug as they continued. Richard couldn't say he understood it, but remembering the soft padded leather made him think that perhaps it wasn't too uncomfortable. The cushion would even save their neck and stop the blood from rushing to their head.

"And this?" It was a huge wooden board with slots that could be moved up and down. The top half looked like the other stockages, but there were two more large holes lower down.

"Allen called it a suspension stockade...You sit in it with your legs through these holes." Richard nodded, unsure why he was asking. It was surreal this was happening at all. Everything up here seemed strange and outlandish to him. Along the wall was a large cross that was clearly set up to cuff someone in an X shape. Hank called it a St Andrew's Cross. There was something that Richard thought looked a lot like the horse boxes he used to see in gym class, which made Hank laugh and say he wasn't far off. The difference was that this horse box had padded knee rests on either side, which would bring you to the right height to be ploughed into next week. Moving on, there was another stockade on the floor, forcing one to kneel with their legs spread and wrists locked between. It looked quite uncomfortable. Beside that was a tall chair with cuffed leg rests, spread wide for the seated party to be held open and fucked.

"What the fuck is this?" Richard was getting more and more worried as they moved on to the metal contraptions. These had slightly less padding, and some were electrical. He didn't even think the barn was wired for electricity. There was a metal frame where one would kneel, locked in place, and an attachment of choice could be fitted to the electric arm at the back, which was clearly meant to fuck the victim. He also found a freestanding version of this sex machine that could be used in tandem with the other stockades. The last was a curious black box containing a long suction cup that led into an empty jar. "Isn't this that a milking thing for cows?"

"Similar, but this is for people...Men specifically. The one for women has two and they're smaller." Richard didn't dare ask what it was for. His cock twitched at the mere sight of the thing. Turning away, Richard moved to the wall instead, thinking it might be safer there. He almost wished he hadn't as he met a row of whips and riding crops. It certainly wasn't his thing. Well, maybe the riding crop. He'd felt that before. There was also a bunch of leather harnesses that almost looked like reins, only a different shape than the ones he fitted to the horses. "Don't worry, they're all new...Allen got a little carried away." Richard balked as Hank took down a head harness and tossed it over. "Here, I think this would suit you."

"Are you serious?" There were ears on it! Leather ears! And blinkers! It certainly looked small enough to fit over his head. Hearing a chuckle, Richard turned his head, stopping dead as a swish sounded and the end of a riding crop teased his chin. He raised his head as Hank nudged, meeting his heated gaze with flushed cheeks.

"What's the matter, Richie? Don't think you'd be a good pony?" Richard hated that Hank's gravelled tone actually sent a jolt to his cock as he swatted the crop away. Hank guffawed, putting the crop aside and continuing his own explorations. There was a sturdy beam fitted overhead with leather attachments for swings or suspension ropes to be tied on. The idea of sitting Richard in one of those leather swings and pounding him in midair was pretty damned erotic. He could just imagine what those little squeals would sound like as they echoed around the barn.

"As if I'd be the pony!" Richard grumbled, though he sounded less than convincing as he stood eyeing the leather reins.

"How could you not? You've worked with them for so long, I'm pretty sure you'd be convincing." Richard wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not as he returned the reins to the wall and took in the other attachments. There was another head harness that looked like a torture device meant to hold the mouth open with metal prongs, which Hank called a spider gag. Another harness had a ball attached, and there was an array of bits for the reins. There was also a tray of strange silicone rings, which Hank explained went over your cock and balls. Some of them even vibrated. In a small box was a set of thin metal rods that made Richard wince as Hank explained where they went. Absolutely fucking not! "I wasn't sure what to do with this place when I first found it. I expected Allen to help dismantle and toss everything, but he seemed to think we might find a better use for it..." Richard didn't like where this was going.

"Don't even think about it!" His cheeks turned red at the very thought of it. Hank smirked as he stepped closer and took his chin, staring into his eyes. Richard wavered at the heat he found there, looking away evasively.

"Unfortunately for you, you owe me a forfeit." A choked sound stuck in Richard's throat at that, dark eyes darting about warily, wondering which of these outlandish devices he was going to be forced into. An arm hooked around him, and a hand stroked down his back before squeezing his ass. "And I intend to make the most of it..." What the fuck did that mean? Richard pushed back a little, frowning up at him warily. "Trust me." Trust was hard earned, though he had to admit, Hank had earned a fair bit. Large hands settled on his hips, stroking gentle circles but going no further. Richard licked his lips nervously, heart fluttering anxiously. He'd never been one for things like this. This was Allen's area of expertise.

Testing the waters, Hank leaned closer, chasing his lips. Richard let out a steady breath and gripped Hank's shoulder with his good hand, slowly pulling him closer. Taking that as permission, Hank snaked his arms around him and tangled a hand in his hair, enjoying the little hums that fled his lips between kisses. Richard didn't even notice he was being backed up until his ass met the wooden edge of the horse box. Breaking away from his lips, Hank kissed his way down Richard's neck to nip and tease his throat.

"You ready to be good for me, honey?" Still unsure, Richard tensed as Hank's hands found the button of his jeans. "Don't worry, just something small to start with." That was less than reassuring, considering all the outlandish objects that surrounded them. Whiskers brushed his neck again, prompting Richard to tip his head back with a small whine. It tickled, but in a good way. Tingles spread across his sensitive skin, prompting him to tighten his grip pull Hank closer. Taking that as a positive sign, Hank popped the button on Richard's jeans and pushed them down. They both moaned as Hank's rough hands stroked and squeezed his ass, barely drawing back enough for Hank to guide him out of his shoes.

Once his feet were free, Hank left him only long enough to retrieve his shoes. Richard licked his lips nervously as he slipped his feet back into them, very conscious of the fact that his ass and cock were now on full display for anyone who came up to the loft. Not that he had much to worry about in that regard. He was pretty sure Allen hadn't arrived yet, and only he and Hank lived in the area. Hank soon returned to his lips, encouraging his good hand back to his shoulder and guiding him with a hand on his hip. Richard didn't know where they were going as Hank backed him up across the room, not until they passed through a familiar doorway.

"It's alright, honey...You can just rest here while I'm out in the fields." Richard would have refused, but he did owe Hank a forfeit, unfair as that was. "Come on now, Richie. Turn around." Richard grudgingly followed the hand on his hip as Hank turned his body to face the waist high leather beam, which really did fit perfectly against his hips. A guiding hand on his back encouraged him down until his head rested on the leather cushion and his free hand was resting inside the loop. "Attaboy." Richard swallowed as the wooden beam came down over his head, locking him in place. The slide of a bolt told him Hank had locked it.

"H-hey! What are you doing?" A hand landed on his ass and pried his cheeks apart, making room for Hank's fingers to circle his right ring. Hank chuckled softly as he teased the tight hole, rubbing circles with his thumb as Richard squirmed. Fuck, he looked good. It's a shame he didn't know how good. The shirt was taut all the way down to his curved ass, and the way all those straps hugged his thighs and calves was sinful. He couldn't resist it as he pinged one of the straps, enjoying the surprised yelp that fled Richard's lips. "Henry!" Hank chuckled at the disgruntled tone as he circled the offended area.

"Relax! I'm just getting you ready." Richard stiffened at that. What did he mean by getting him ready? Ready for what? The sound of a popping cap reached his ear, followed by the wet sound of a tube being squeezed. "You didn't think I'd just leave you up here like this with nothing to do?" Wasn't that what he was doing? Richard squirmed as Hank's hand returned to pry him open, only this time a cold, wet finger teased his ring and quickly sank in to the knuckle. The feeling made his cock twitch, a slow breath slipping out as his forehead rested on the padded cushion. "Fuck, that's it. Good boy." The finger plunged in again, encouraging Richard to buck his hips to meet it.

"H-Henry..." This didn't seem fair. With his neck and arm restrained, he couldn't rock back as far as he'd like, and he was pretty sure Hank wasn't going to finish whatever he was starting. Not for a few hours, anyway. He outright moaned as the second finger pushed in. Tingles ran down his spine as a rough hand patted his ass.

"Good boy, Richie. Open your legs a bit more. That's it." Richard did as he was told, lifting his ass as high as he could. Hank's fingers brought the same full feeling as usual, the stretch that made him feel like it was too much and not enough all at once. His cock jerked with each thrust, and it only got worse as Hank's clothed body pressed up behind. The rough denim rubbing his thighs made his hair stand on end. Hank could feel him relaxing into it. The ring of muscle was getting looser around his fingers, the perfect width to push it in. "Attaboy." Hank smirked as he withdrew his fingers and held the lubed plug ready.

He timed it perfectly. A clean change over. Richard barely noticed as the tip of the plug stretched his rim, but he did notice as it sank in place. His hole closed around it, gripping it in place. Smaller, harder, and less filling than Hank's fingers. It also didn't take him long to feel the soft tickle of synthetic hair on his thighs as he closed his legs. Hank smirked, biting his lip as he pulled out his phone to enjoy the show as Richard stepped from foot to foot, shaking his ass as if trying to get loose. It was a tantalising sight, which Hank enjoyed until he heard a pained hiss. His hand was there in an instant, holding Richard's hip steady to stop him from moving.

"Easy there, easy." With a click of his tongue, Richard kicked back and caught Hank's shin with a hint of satisfaction. He'd give him easy! A sharp tap on his ass made him yelp and a firm hand caught his calf, rough fingers circling. "Stop it, you'll hurt yourself." Richard trembled as Hank nudged the plug in his ass, teasing it in circles to calm him.

"I'm not a fucking animal!"

"Well, thank fuck for that! I wouldn't fuck you if you were." Richard growled, turning his head this way and that in a futile effort to see Hank. Unfortunately, the wooden stockade was too high and wide to see around. All he could see was the wood of the stall and the straw on the floor. He balked at the sound of Hank's phone snapping pictures and gritted his teeth indignantly at the series of rough pats on his ass. The type he used when patting Connor's flank. "Just give it a chance. I'm pretty sure you'll like it by the end of the day." Richard would have bitten out a retort at that point, only a sudden vibration rumble in his passage, making him squirm. He'd ramped it up to level five, and, unlike the other plug, this one hit right on the spot.

"A-ah-fuck, you-fucking-" He broke off with a grunt as Hank lowered the sensitivity to level one and gave his ass a parting pat.

"Attaboy." Dull steps signalled his departure, and Richard remained helplessly trapped in place, the plug still buzzing, as Hank climbed down the ladder. Richard licked his lips and squirmed, jaw tightening as the silken strands brushed his thighs again. He tried not to think about how he must look from behind with that glossy tail hanging from his ass, swishing back and forth, curls bobbing and bouncing. It was fucking demeaning! Another strong buzz had him biting his lip, cock twitching in spite of himself. Oh-fuck! The setting changed again. A low, gentle rumble that slowly climbed in intensity until that little knot of pleasure tightened before dropping off to nothing. Richard gasped and squirmed, feeling the tail brush his thighs softly. No way am I enjoying this! No fucking way! He remained resolute even after the heavy barn doors swung shut.