Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Right away, Sir.” He sat up and righted his shirt. “May I have one too?”
“Absolutely.”
He didn’t have to ask about that, but he liked it, and it wasn’t as if I minded. It was actually sorta nice to be in a…what should I call it, an overseer position. Because it provided a better insight into what he did—and so, if something went wrong, I could more easily identify the problem.
While I waited for Lane’s return, I enjoyed the perfect view of Macklin and Walker. The whipping post in question was maybe ten, twelve feet away, close enough for me to see that Macklin was chilly when he, as per Walker’s order, stripped down to his boxers—never mind. They came off too.
Walker opened the shackles attached to the back of the post, and Macklin begrudgingly surrendered his wrists. Then he was effectively hugging the post.
I shook my head and chuckled. It’d be a cold day in hell before I let anybody restrain me.
“Try not to enjoy yourself too much, Sir,” Macklin told me.
I smirked. “Enjoyin’ things in life is kinda what I do, pet. And so will you, when Walker and I play with your bruised ass later.”
He bit his lip, unable to deny that.
He and Lane didn’t know the details of our plan for later. Not that Walker and I had written a list, but we’d double-checked some limits and so on. Covered safety and shared a fantasy or two. Always a good idea. In the meantime, the boys could guess and speculate. Drive up the anticipation a bit.
My attention shifted back to Lane when I saw him returning with two drinks and…a spray bottle?
“Colt said you might need this,” he said with a grin.
“I don’t know what it is. Thanks.” I accepted my drink, and he snickered and set the bottle on the floor.
“Disinfectant—in case you make a big mess on the couch. His words.”
I snorted and lifted my drink toward the bar as I found my buddy watching with a smirk.
Good looking out.
My boy removed his shoes before he cuddled up next to me with his own drink. “I don’t think he meant that as a compliment.”
I shrugged and took a swig of the gin. Fuck, that would never get old. “A helpful dick is still helpful. Now I know I can make a mess on the couch.”
It hadn’t even occurred to me that people might have sex in this area.
“A helpful dick is still helpful,” Lane echoed. “I’m gonna remember that. I mean, if you think about it, that’s a great philosophy. Most people would probably think more along the lines of, I don’t care you did something helpful—you’re still a dick.”
Exactly. My boy got me.
I rubbed my hand along his back and ducked down for a kiss.
He smiled into the kiss and scratched a finger against my scruff. “Who knew you’d be so smart, Daddy?”
I grinned lazily and nipped at his bottom lip.
Macklin interrupted our sweet moment with colorful words and shouts, so we wrapped up our kiss and settled in to watch Walker beat his boy for no reason. No, wait, Macklin had scowled. Twice. The audacity.
I brought my drink to my lips and gestured toward the other two. “Is that somethin’ you’re interested in.”
“What—getting a beating?”
I half shrugged, half nodded, and took a sip. “Receivin’ pain for the sake of it.”
Lane gathered his legs underneath him and watched the couple pensively. “No… I guess it should have a purpose, in a way. If Walker creates a flogger and you wanna try it on me, I wouldn’t mind that. It doesn’t have to be a big purpose, just…not for the sake of receiving pain, no.”
That made sense. I got it. I was with him. Pain was a tool, for the most part.
“To be fair, though, I don’t think Walker’s striking Macklin without a purpose now,” Lane added. “Macklin will suffer for his Owner—gladly—but he’s not that type of masochist. He gets off on sensual pain like most of us, but not this.”
I cocked my head and observed Macklin. “So what’s the purpose, do you reckon?”
Christ, Walker didn’t hold back. The long lashes of the flogger, with tiny knots at the ends, rained down on Macklin’s buttocks with force. They weren’t all knotted ends either. Walker had shown me his creation earlier. About a third of the leather strands had heavy metal beads instead.
The toy produced the type of scream that was sharp and cut off, like when all air was punched out of your lungs and you couldn’t suck more into your mouth. It got stuck in your throat.
“It’s what the pain does to him,” Lane murmured.
I glanced at him, and he watched his boyfriend.
“He’s explained it to me before,” he went on. “He’ll get clingy, super sensitive, and hornier than a…I don’t even know. The pain pushes him into a space where he just lives for the next orgasm.”