The only outward sign that the crop had the desired effect was the way the pretty boy’s eyes drooped shut, his throat working as he swallowed.
I could feel all the eyes on us, curiosity mixed with concern. Some of them understood who I was, what I was, and what I was capable of. They’d been at my hands before. Doms had worn my stripes during training exercises, getting familiar with the tools of the trade. Submissives had felt my wrath, most of the time as a way to assuage their curiosity. Not so much to sate their inner masochist, more because they believed me incapable of being as demanding as my reputation proclaimed I was. I always ensured they understood they were wrong. I was that demanding.
Not once had anyone in this place received aftercare from me. That was a line I drew and I wouldn’t cross it. There was only one man in existence who had ever seen my softer side. I learned a little too late that that wasn’t a side of me he was open to seeing. So, I had tucked it away, refusing to let it out to play.
Which was why the human toys I played with were someone else’s responsibility when I was finished. I ensured they were in good hands before passing them off and putting them out of my mind. The experiences were what stayed with me. The feelings I got from watching a submissive take the pain I willingly delivered. The faces had all morphed together over time, some not having faces at all.
As I turned, I skimmed the crowd, mentally tallying the number and wondering how many would be left when I was finished.
Because they hadn’t seen anything yet.
*
Case
(The pretty boy)
I HAD TO GIVE IT TO him, Zeke had a way of keeping me focused on him and only him. Not once had I gotten lost in my own head. I didn’t have time to worry about anything outside of the walls of this club. Or anyone, for that matter.
Every muscle in my body was hard, my blood pumping fast through my veins, every nerve ending on alert, the endorphins steadily flowing. I couldn’t even focus on Brax because Zeke had wrapped an invisible hand around my throat and he kept me inching closer to the promise of release with every breath.
When he had smacked my cock with that crop, I imagined that was what it felt like for a drug user when they got their fix. Pure, raw bliss had shot through my bloodstream. I needed more, but I wouldn’t ask for it.
Zeke made his way over to his bag, but I couldn’t see what he picked up. When he turned back around, I didn’t see anything except for the crop still in his hand. The beast of a man strutted back over, his body blocking my view of everyone and everything. I watched him, eager, anxious. Desperate.
“Do you wish to be my fuck toy, pretty boy?”
The sound of Zeke’s voice was fuel to the fire he’d ignited inside me. The more I heard it, the higher I got. “Yes, Zeke.”
He moved, bending at the waist in front of me, and I felt the parachute tighten over my balls. He’d added a weight. It caused the spikes to pinch a little more.
“Do you know what it means to be my fuck toy, cowboy?”
“No, Zeke.” There was an edge of tension to Brax’s tone.
“Yet you want to be my fuck toy, too?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
Zeke bent in front of Brax and I assumed he added a weight to him, too.
He slowly stood and turned his attention to me. “And why is that? What is it you think I’ll give you, pretty boy?”
“Pleasure, Zeke. In the form of pain.”
“Is that what you need, pretty boy?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
He bent and added another weight, the pain blooming in brilliant Technicolor. It wasn’t quite enough.
“And you’re willing to do anything to get it?”
“Yes, Zeke.” I’d never felt so strongly about anything in my life, except perhaps my feelings for Brax.
Another weight was added and I swallowed hard, the spikes digging into my balls. They weren’t sharp enough to puncture, I could tell by the feel. But they were a constant sensation, that delicious bite of pain I craved.
“As my fuck toys, you will cook for me, clean for me, do any depraved thing I want. Outside the confines of this club, you will have no safe word, no limits. You will belong to me.” Zeke stepped up in front of me, his voice lowering. “If I choose to make you sleep in a cage, you will. If I want you to jack off ten times a day, you will. If I tell you to bend over so I can shove my dick in your ass, you will. You’re a fuck toy for me to use and abuse, nothing more. Is that what you want?”
