For the next few hours, he wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. All he would have to do was let Cypress take control, and he could be a good boy.
It was so simple.
No Junior harassing him, no angry screaming in his head, no blood, no death…
Only him and Cypress.
He stepped slowly back into the living room, his hair still damp, and his nerves on edge. He didn’t worry about the curve of his belly or how thick his thighs were, focused only on Cypress.
Cypress—having put Mister Doodles on the floor, the dog now fast asleep—leaned forward on the couch and looked over Tom hungrily. “Wow.”
Blushing, Tom began to step closer, saying, “I didn’t think to put anything on. You know, considering what, uh, what we’re going to do.”
“You’re perfect,” Cypress said, sitting back and patting his thigh. “Come here.”
Knees turning to jelly, Tom eagerly surged forward and climbed into Cypress’s lap. He ran his hands up his broad chest, trying to ignore how hard he was already, pressing close as he leaned in for a kiss.
Cypress held him as they kissed, palming his ass and squeezing lightly. He brushed their noses together, asking quietly, “Safe word?”
“Calvarium clamp,” Tom replied dutifully.
“Good boy. Are you ready to begin?”
“Yes, please,” Tom said urgently. He couldn’t explain why, but there was a sudden chasm opening up inside of him, and he was quickly overwhelmed with need. “I want you. I want you to make it all go away. Please.” Tom didn’t even know what he was saying. It just kept tumbling out. “I need it to hurt. I need to feel it. I need to make it stop. I want it all to stop.”
“Hey, hey,” Cypress soothed, his hands gliding up Tom’s back. “Easy… Tom? Look at me.”
Tom hadn’t even realized his eyes were filling with tears until he met Cypress’s gaze. He had to blink them away to see clearly. He felt completely undone, and they hadn’t even started. He was ashamed, and yet he only found a deep understanding when he looked in Cypress’s eyes.
“You’ve been carrying too much for far too long,” Cypress said quietly. “I thought about not punishing you, but maybe I should.”
“For what?”
“For not taking care of yourself,” Cypress said. “From now on, I want you to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. Not just what you did at work today, but how it made you feel.”
“I don’t… I don’t know how,” Tom whispered.
“You’ll learn,” Cypress promised, offering a cheeky little smile. “It seems I have more to teach you than I thought.”
Tom managed to smile back, sagging against Cypress’s chest as they kissed again. The uneasy feeling was slipping away, sucked into Cypress’s hot mouth and the smooth touch of his hands moving all over his body.
The first crack of Cypress’s hand on his ass startled him, making his hips jerk forward.
“You can’t keep all of these feelings inside,” Cypress said sternly. “It’ll eat you up. I can’t begin to understand the terrible things you see, but you have to find a way to cope other than burying it all.”
Tom nodded, his hands digging into Cypress’s sweater. This new demand warred against everything Tom had ever been taught, but he wanted it so badly. He wanted to let it all out—all the pain, the anxiety, the suffering, everything he’d been bottling up for the last ten years.
Cypress spanked him again, harder, hard enough to make Tom cry out.
The pain was fleeting, leaving a lovely zing in its wake that made Tom arch his back. “I’ll learn. I promise. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good.”
“I know you will be,” Cypress said, rubbing his palm over the cheek he’d just struck. “I’m going to help you, Tom.”
“Yes, please.” Tom moaned when Cypress struck him again, rocking back and forth as he tried to escape the burning sensation. He could feel adrenaline coursing all through his body and making his cock ache.
In every strike of Cypress’s hand, there was white-hot pleasure burning within the quick slap of pain. All of Tom’s nerves were raw and exposed, and Cypress’s strong hand delivered blow after blow of intense sensation.
He deserved this, yes. He hadn’t been taking care of himself, not in years. He knew he was going to snap if he didn’t. He had to be better, he had to be good. He had to be a good boy.
