Dylan was saved from having to reply by the fat gag filling his mouth, but he nodded anyway. He said something, though Ryker couldn’t make out what.
“What was that, Dylan?” he asked.
Steve reached forward and pulled the gag out of the boy’s mouth. Dylan swallowed, working his jaw, and said, “We’re testing what kind of impact play I like. It’s an experiment!”
“And you’re in the stocks because?”
“He kept squirming away,” Steve said, his rough voice making Dylan shudder.
“Not on purpose!” Dylan defended himself. He had that bratty tone of voice that let Ryker know that he was pretty deep into subspace.
“I know, you’re a good boy,” Ryker said, crouching down in front of him and petting his hair. He stroked his cheek, enjoying the blissful expression the simple touch elicited. “What’s your favorite so far?”
“The flogger,” Dylan answered, no hesitation. “It feelswarm.”
He said it like it was a revelation.
“What else?” Ryker asked, glancing up at Steve and catching him in a blush. He looked down and noticed that Steve was wearing his leather motorcycle gloves. Had Dylan requested those? If so, that was an interesting development.
“The crop, but I already knew that,” Dylan said. “And his hand. That’s pretty great.”
Ryker traced Dylan’s lips. “What was your least favorite?”
“The single tail whip,” Dylan said, glancing up at Steve with a mean look. “It hurt a lot, even when he said he was going to be gentle and let me get a feel for it first.”
“The single tail is meant to be painful,” Ryker said, not surprised that Dylan hadn’t liked it. “What else?”
“That one is okay,” Dylan said, nodding at the paddle in Steve’s hand. “But not the little plastic one with the holes in it.”
“What about just a regular belt?” Ryker asked.
“We haven’t tested that,” Dylan said. He bit his lips, his gaze going down to Ryker’s belt.
“Then let’s test it out now,” Ryker said, standing up. He removed his belt and pulled it off, folding it in half and snapping it together to make a slapping sound. Dylan jumped, making the locking mechanism holding the stocks closed rattle.
“Ready?” Ryker asked, wrapping the buckle end of the belt around his hand.
“I am, but you’re-”
Ryker didn’t get to hear the rest of what Dylan was going to say. He brought the belt down on Dylan’s ass, already red from the various implements Steve had tested, the leather hitting his skin with a vicious snap.
Dylan jerked, crying out in pain as he went down to his knees to escape another blow.
“See?” Steve said, nudging Dylan’s foot with his boot. “He keeps squirming.”
Dylan was breathing fast, but his cock was rock hard between his legs. It was harder now, in fact, than it had been before Ryker hit him.
“How was that?” he asked, crouching down and rubbing Dylan’s ass. The skin was warm, and he could feel welts from the crop and single tail whip marking the skin.
“Good,” Dylan said, breathing hard. Ryker reached between his legs and pumped his cock, making Dylan whimper in sheer pleasure. “But still not my favorite. It would be fun if we were doing a business daddy roleplay thing, though.”
Ryker froze, letting go of Dylan’s cock. Had he just said the wordsbusiness daddy roleplay?
He looked up at Steve, who looked delighted. At Ryker’s look he lifted his brows. “What? You’d be perfect for a business daddy roleplay.”
Ryker huffed. He’d never considered his profession as the grounds for roleplay, but apparently Dylan had. He’d have to explore that further, he decided, and see exactly what abusiness daddydid that required him to use his belt as a whip.
“My uniform belt is thicker,” Steve said, walking up to Dylan and standing so that his bulge was right in the boy’s face. He stroked a gloved finger through his hair. “It would hurt a lot more than Ryker’s.”
