I gripped his jaw because I’d noticed how he responded to me when I did. The man wasn’t in this to see how much pain he could handle. He knew how much he needed, that was clear. And he was desperate to receive it.
I would be the man to give him that.
“You will take ten,” I told him, holding his gaze, those bright green eyes glassy. “You will take all ten graciously and without complaint. If you do, you will go home with me and be wearing my collar by the end of the night.”
“Yes, Zeke.” His chest rose and fell, his body succumbing to the constant sensation beating on him. Between the plug in his ass and the weights stretching his balls, those tiny steel spikes biting into sensitive flesh, I would be surprised if he made it to five before he was flying.
Still gripping his jaw, I leaned in closer. “I do not expect you to come if you fly, pretty boy. However, should you not hit subspace, you may come after ten. Understand?”
I could see the plea in his eyes. He wanted subspace more than he wanted to come. It didn’t surprise me.
Releasing his face, I took a step back. I raked my gaze over his entire form, confirming he was where he should be. The cuffs weren’t cutting off the circulation and his balls weren’t discolored from the leather binding them. Content that he wasn’t suffering unnecessarily, I walked behind him.
While I had only given the cowboy five, I’d known the pretty boy would need more. He was far more experienced with this, far more in tune with his own needs. I appreciated that. It made my job easier. I didn’t have to worry that he would take this only to please me. He needed this as much as I did.
Once I was behind him and no one was in danger of getting the ends of my tails, I pulled the whip back and snapped it forward, ensuring the ends did not touch his skin. As I expected, the pretty boy didn’t move, his body primed and ready for the blow.
The next time I pulled back, I let go, following through and allowing the nine knotted ends to snap over his back.
The pretty boy moaned, but he didn’t move.
I continued, delivering blow after blow, taking several seconds between, sometimes a little longer, prolonging the torture. It wasn’t until the seventh that his knees buckled. My eyes shot up to his hands. He wasn’t holding on to the chains, merely dangling from the cuffs. He couldn’t remain there for long or he’d cut the circulation off in his hands.
I delivered the last three in rapid succession, the pretty boy’s deep bellows confirming my suspicion. He was flying high, his mind wrapped up tightly as the pain consumed him and the endorphins offered the escape he sought. It was the relief he wanted, the high he chased, and I’d given that to him.
I tossed the whip to the side and moved forward. I caught Trent’s attention and he stepped forward instantly, Ransom moving in beside him. There was no one else nearby capable of bearing the pretty boy’s weight, which explained why the two Masters were there to assist.
I turned to face the pretty boy, leaning in close but not touching him. “You did good. I look forward to seeing you wear my collar.”
“Thank you, Zeke,” he mumbled, his words slurred.
Mistress D stepped forward almost instantly, releasing the parachute from the pretty boy’s balls, dragging a long, ragged moan from him. She gave me a nod—her confirmation that she was taking responsibility for him—before turning and leading the way to another aftercare room.
“Master Zeke, may I clean up for you now?” a soft female voice sounded from behind me.
I turned to see one of the submissives who volunteered here at the club. She had asked prior to my scene if she could assist and I’d granted her permission. I appreciated the fact she had asked. “You may.”
Without hesitation, she hurried to get the toys from the floor and the cuffs still connected to the chains, bringing them over to me before she grabbed the cleaner and towels. I shoved the used toys into ziplock bags and stowed them in my bag to clean later.
As I tucked them inside, I smiled to myself. I wouldn’t have to clean them later. I had two fuck toys who would handle that for me.
The thought made me chuckle even as a foreign sense of anticipation shot through me.
*
Two hours later—just after one in the morning—I was walking into my house while the cowboy and the pretty boy were pulling into the driveway. It had taken some time for them to come down from the scene. While I had checked in on them both a couple of times, I’d left their care to the others and by the time I told them I was ready to leave, the two masochists were in good spirits, if not exhausted.
