He grits his teeth. “Yes. I understand, Sir.”
Such a good boy. But even good boys need to be taught lessons.“You’re a quick study.”
I move to the wall, select another flogger, soft suede. I drag it across his chest, the ends trailing down his stomach. Then I step back and lay in, three quick strikes to his ass. He hisses, but keeps his body still.
“Count,” I say.
He’s silent.
I strike again, harder. “One,” he gasps.
Again. “Two.”
I keep going, slow, deliberate. At ten, his ass is streaked with pink, and his eyes are wet but not crying. I toss the flogger aside.
“Do you know what I like about you?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
I grip his jaw, force him to look at me. “You don’t break. You bend, but you don’t break. Most people would be giving up by now, begging. Not you.”
He holds my gaze. “Maybe you’re not hitting hard enough,” he spits, and the second he says it, he regrets it.
I slap him on the cheek, harder this time, then kiss the mark on his cheek. His cock twitches and he groans.Little masochist.“Careful what you wish for.”
I want to ruin him. I want to see what happens when he’s stripped of every defense, every clever line, every hope.
But not yet.
I stand and murmur, “You’re going to learn, Landon. You’re going to learn everything I want you to know.”
Reaching up, I release the cuffs, catch him as he sags, then push him down onto the breeding bench. His wrists snap into the restraints on either side, and I cuff his ankles to the bolts at the base. He’s on his knees, chest pressed to the leather, ass in the air.
I run a hand down his spine, slow. He shivers, tries to hide it. I squeeze his ass, then let my palm linger there, measuring the weight of him.
“You are going to see just how much pleasure I can bring you when you obey… or how much pain you’ll experience if you don’t.”
I grab a bottle of lube from the shelf, coat my fingers, and press one inside. He gasps, clamps down, but I push through. I want him to feel every inch.
I add another finger, scissoring him open. He bites down on the bench, but doesn’t make a sound. His cock hangs between his legs, hard again, leaking onto the leather.
Slowly, I stretch him, then pull out and pick a plug from the shelf—nothing massive, just enough to hurt. I lube it and press it to his hole, working it in inch by inch. He groans, body tensing, but he doesn’t beg for mercy. Not even close.
When it’s fully seated, I pat his cheek. “You’re doing so well.”
He doesn’t respond, just breathes, shallow and fast.
I circle to the front of the bench, kneel so my face is level with his. “Look at me.”
He does.
“This is just the beginning. Every time you disobey me, every time you poke where you shouldn’t, I’m going to remind you who owns you. Understand?”
He nods, eyes wide, pupils blown.
I smile, soft this time. “Good.”
I stand, leaving him bent and bound on the bench, plug buried in his ass. I take a moment to compose myself, to smooth my hair, to check that everything is in its place.
