is.”
“That's the power-exchange I told you about. You gave me power over your person and I used it to give us both what we needed to be fulfilled.”
“You make it sound so reasonable, so simple.”
“It bothers you.”
“Yeah, it does.”
James put his fork down. “How many times have you given up what you want so someone else can have what they want? Think about it. Your mother, Tony, your boss, the shopper who wanted the same zucchini you did?”
“Zucchini?” Carl grinned. “Freud would have a field day with that one.”
“Focus, Carl.” James was not going to let him joke his way out of the conversation.
“I get the point; selfless acts. Not quite the same thing here, James. This was subjugation for sex.”
James’ voice became soft. “Sex is, by definition, selfish. We all reach for our own elusive orgasm. How beautiful then, that you wanted mine more.”
Carl decided James was romanticizing what happened and then it hit him— of course he was. James told him in that first interview he believed in romantic domination. He saw the Dom/sub relationship as a caring partnership of give and take.
Lost in thought again, he helped clean up the kitchen and followed James to the playroom.
“Tonight we will repeat last Friday, just the flogger.”
Wait a minute. “No whip?”
“Do you want to chance your mother seeing marks?” James raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah. No, she would kick both our butts.” Carl threw the hospital green scrubs over the chair and strode naked to stand under the chain. His skin tingled in anticipation of the flogger as James put the cuffs on his wrists.
“Your safeword?”
“Red, sir.” Carl watched James pull a thong up his legs before placing his ankles in the spreader bar. “The flogger didn't hurt me last time, sir.”
“No, but I have plans for this pretty cock.”
Too bad he didn't have plans for it now. By the time James had adjusted his dick into the cloth sack and the string into the crack of his ass, Carl was fully erect.
James snapped the flogger twice then hit Carl's buttocks on the third swing. Carl jumped.
Several hits later, his skin warmed and he was surprised how quickly pleasure replaced the pain. It had taken much longer last week. Carl let his head fall back and time became meaningless.
He did not lose his grip on reality the way he had earlier, but it felt amazing to absorb the shockwaves of dozens of little strips of leather slapping against his flesh. His heart, racing when they began, slowed to mimic the pace of the flogger. He loved it.
James was taking the spreader off when Carl came out of his fog to realize it was over. He did a better job of standing on his own while James lowered his arms and removed the cuffs. Together, they left the playroom and went to James’ bedroom.
“Good God!”
“Do you like the fur?”
He sat with James’ help and lay back on the softest thing he had ever felt. “Yes sir, I like the fur a lot.”
“I thought you might.” James pulled the thong off and maneuvered Carl to the center of the rabbit fur blanket covering the bed. “Do not move.”
“Yes sir.” He groaned when James swirled a feather duster over his body. The tickle and the urge to squirm drove him to madness. His armpits and groin received special attention, forcing him to clench his hands on the wrought iron headboard. Close to screaming, he endured James’ idea of fun until every inch of pink, abused skin twitched in protest.
He sighed heartily as the tickle torture ended and James traded the duster for a bottle of lube. At last! Carl raised his knees and yelped at the sharp slap that landed on his thigh.
“Do not move.” The Dom repeated.
Unbelieving, he watched as James poured the lube into his hand and wrapped it around Carl's dick. Oorah!
The torture truly reached critical mass as Carl tried valiantly to keep his hips still. James was also an expert on hand jobs and he proved that fact for many long minutes—
“That's the power-exchange I told you about. You gave me power over your person and I used it to give us both what we needed to be fulfilled.”
“You make it sound so reasonable, so simple.”
“It bothers you.”
“Yeah, it does.”
James put his fork down. “How many times have you given up what you want so someone else can have what they want? Think about it. Your mother, Tony, your boss, the shopper who wanted the same zucchini you did?”
“Zucchini?” Carl grinned. “Freud would have a field day with that one.”
“Focus, Carl.” James was not going to let him joke his way out of the conversation.
“I get the point; selfless acts. Not quite the same thing here, James. This was subjugation for sex.”
James’ voice became soft. “Sex is, by definition, selfish. We all reach for our own elusive orgasm. How beautiful then, that you wanted mine more.”
Carl decided James was romanticizing what happened and then it hit him— of course he was. James told him in that first interview he believed in romantic domination. He saw the Dom/sub relationship as a caring partnership of give and take.
Lost in thought again, he helped clean up the kitchen and followed James to the playroom.
“Tonight we will repeat last Friday, just the flogger.”
Wait a minute. “No whip?”
“Do you want to chance your mother seeing marks?” James raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, yeah. No, she would kick both our butts.” Carl threw the hospital green scrubs over the chair and strode naked to stand under the chain. His skin tingled in anticipation of the flogger as James put the cuffs on his wrists.
“Your safeword?”
“Red, sir.” Carl watched James pull a thong up his legs before placing his ankles in the spreader bar. “The flogger didn't hurt me last time, sir.”
“No, but I have plans for this pretty cock.”
Too bad he didn't have plans for it now. By the time James had adjusted his dick into the cloth sack and the string into the crack of his ass, Carl was fully erect.
James snapped the flogger twice then hit Carl's buttocks on the third swing. Carl jumped.
Several hits later, his skin warmed and he was surprised how quickly pleasure replaced the pain. It had taken much longer last week. Carl let his head fall back and time became meaningless.
He did not lose his grip on reality the way he had earlier, but it felt amazing to absorb the shockwaves of dozens of little strips of leather slapping against his flesh. His heart, racing when they began, slowed to mimic the pace of the flogger. He loved it.
James was taking the spreader off when Carl came out of his fog to realize it was over. He did a better job of standing on his own while James lowered his arms and removed the cuffs. Together, they left the playroom and went to James’ bedroom.
“Good God!”
“Do you like the fur?”
He sat with James’ help and lay back on the softest thing he had ever felt. “Yes sir, I like the fur a lot.”
“I thought you might.” James pulled the thong off and maneuvered Carl to the center of the rabbit fur blanket covering the bed. “Do not move.”
“Yes sir.” He groaned when James swirled a feather duster over his body. The tickle and the urge to squirm drove him to madness. His armpits and groin received special attention, forcing him to clench his hands on the wrought iron headboard. Close to screaming, he endured James’ idea of fun until every inch of pink, abused skin twitched in protest.
He sighed heartily as the tickle torture ended and James traded the duster for a bottle of lube. At last! Carl raised his knees and yelped at the sharp slap that landed on his thigh.
“Do not move.” The Dom repeated.
Unbelieving, he watched as James poured the lube into his hand and wrapped it around Carl's dick. Oorah!
The torture truly reached critical mass as Carl tried valiantly to keep his hips still. James was also an expert on hand jobs and he proved that fact for many long minutes—
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