“If I hurt you at all, it’s because I know that pain will make you feel good. Maybe not physically, but in some way.”
“I do like pain,” he blurted. “I took a shower and held my arm under the hot water, and it hurt, but it made me really hard.”
“Did it?” It was difficult to swallow, to stay focused.
“I had to masturbate over it.”
“And?”
“I liked it.”
“So when you saw that throuple tonight at Rapture, saw how those clamps dug into his nipples and the way the hook stretched and tugged her asshole…”
“I liked it,” he said. “But it was the rest too.”
“The cane? The flogger?” I asked.
We were in the doorway to my bedroom, the window black for how dark it was outside, the only light in the space a small bedside lamp on Ev’s side of the bed that I never turned off.
“I think I would like to be spanked.”
“Is that one of your choices for the night?”
“Can it be?” he rasped.
“You can have anything you want, baby,” I promised. “You just have to tell me what it is.”
Smith nodded, slow at first, and then more certain.
“Yes,” he told me. “I want to be spanked.”
“Do you want to come?”
“Yes.”
“Do you…” I paused, knowing I had to pick my words carefully, trying to remember as much of the scene from Rapture as I could, as much of Smith as I could. “You want to be restrained, don’t you? You aren’t afraid of the struggle.”
“My whole life has been a struggle.”
“Well, not here,” I promised. “Not tonight. Take your clothes off, Smith. I need to get some things out of my closet.”
More than that, I needed a minute to compose myself. With my back to the room, I did everything possible to ignore the sound of Smith’s clothing dragging across his skin, landing on my floor in a discarded pile. I reached into the back of my closet and grabbed a pair of leather cuffs before thinking better of it. That tattoo I’d just given him was far too fresh for bondage, and while I had no doubt the pain of leather against the raw skin would be exactly the sort of hurt Smith was looking for, I wasn’t the kind of man who deliberately ruined my work—or my toys.
Though it had been so long since I’d had a toy.
In the end, I picked a length of black rope and a thin bamboo cane, though I wasn’t certain I would use the last one. Spanking was one of those things people were certain of in theory, but not always in practice. The pain of it, when you were an adult being spanked by another adult, was sometimes far more psychological than physical. I’d keep it with me to be safe, just to see how the night would go. I dug out a bottle of lube from the bottom of the bag, and when I turned around, I almost dropped dead on the spot.
Smith stood at the foot of my bed…naked. Save the fresh tattoo that covered his entire forearm, his skin was unblemished, pale but golden, like it was an undertone not a tan. He was stocky, muscular but not overdone, and his chest held a spattering of curls that matched the soft brown of the curls on his head. There was no denying the attractiveness of this man, nor how perfectly the thick cock jutting up from between his legs fit the rest of him.
One day, he would make a better man very happy.
“What do you say to end this?” I asked him.
“Red.” His dick bobbed in agreement.
“And if you say stop?”
“You don’t stop.”
