“Thanks,” Colton said, apparently fighting the urge to drag Rom there from the way he kept edging toward the doorway.
Rom grinned. “I think I have an eager boy in need of some marks.”
“Have fun, gentlemen,” Kent said.
Rom wasn’t sure, but that was probably the fastest Colton had ever stripped before. Rom put his cuffs and collar on him and didn’t waste time having him kneel on the floor. He knew what Colton wanted, and after spreading out a towel on the kneeling bench, he had Colton climb into position there. Colton didn’t just want this—he needed it.
Hell, it was what Rom needed, too. They both needed this mental reset. Colton had asked to cry tonight, so Rom knew he’d be going hard and heavy on him.
Problem was, he’d have to be careful about where he left marks on Colton now. He couldn’t put them just anywhere, because it’d be too easy for Clay to spot them if Colton wasn’t thinking and walked around without a shirt, or with the wrong pair of shorts that showed too much thigh above his knees.
Rom stripped and stroked his hands up and down Colton’s back. “Going to restrain you for tonight, baby. Okay?”
Colton’s eyes were already closed, and he nodded. “Yes, Master.”
Rom used snap clips on Colton’s wrist and ankle cuffs to secure him to the bench. The blindfold and ball gag went on next.
With his boy secured, Rom started by slowly massaging Colton’s whole body, knowing it’d both relax him as well as drive his need through the roof. Meanwhile, his own hard-on throbbed and ached, and Rom had to give himself a squeeze to calm it the fuck down.
Patience, boy.
* * * *
Once the blindfold and gag were on, the man let go of Colton and let his Master’s boy take over the helm. No thinking was required now.
With Rom’s hands working him over, Colton focused on breathing, on absorbing every touch. Around him, he could feel the air shift and move with Rom, the way sounds reflected off his body, the feel of warmth even if Rom wasn’t touching him.
He held nothing but faith and trust in his Master. Rom was careful and thorough and would never go too far.
That meant the boy could let go and just be. Something he desperately needed. Thank god he’d had Rom through the past couple of weeks, his strong and steady guidance and control. He would have been a wreck by now trying to do everything himself.
If not in jail from confronting their parents.
Shut.
Brain.
Off.
Rom didn’t spend too much time with his hands before picking up the first implement, a heavy mop flogger Rom liked to use for warmup and stepping down through stages of play. Thuddy, it was a good way to ease him into a deeper level of subspace without pain. Every impact rocked him and helped him slow and deepen his breathing.
After a few minutes of that, Rom moved to a strap, slappy and loud, but not really painful compared to what Colton knew lay ahead.
He’d asked Rom for tears tonight, and Rom would take his time building him up to that cathartic release.
Cobwebs clouded his mind, old and new garbage collected there. This was the one sure way to sweep everything out so he could think again.
Paddles that were a little stingy, and used over his ass and thighs, but he could tell Rom was trying to not mark him any more than necessary. Which meant some creative logistics juggling on Rom’s part, which would, no doubt, end up meaning canes at the end.
Another flogger, this one stiffer leather and a little stingy, but wouldn’t mark him. Colton gritted his teeth into the ball gag and held on. The ride was entering part two, and would only get hairier from here on out.
Then to a different paddle, this one a metal one that stung like fuck. Colton sucked in a sharp breath and wrapped his fingers around the bench’s frame to hold on. Rom spaced these impacts out, harder, but sweeping his hand over every mark to help soothe it, just to do it again.
Time disappeared, the way it always did when his brain went down the rabbit hole. Colton’s entire existence centered around Rom and the implements, his hands, his mouth, where he bit his ass cheeks and high inside his thighs, even teasing Colton’s sac with his teeth.
The soft rattle of canes in the plastic tube, and Colton knew they were at the big finish.
Rom laid one of them against his ass, right along the sit seam, and held it there. “You know what this is?”
Colton nodded and mumbled around his ball gag. “Yes, Master.”
“Here we go.” Rom’s left hand settled in the small of Colton’s back and he took the first stroke. A stripe of fire settled in its wake, rounding Colton’s back and making him howl around the ball gag.
“I know, baby. I know.” Rom kissed the mark, tracing it with his tongue.
And then he did it again.
And again.
Colton didn’t keep track of the number. He’d slipped into that dark, comfortable lair where his thinking brain had completely disengaged and finally allowed the dam to break and release the pain, the ache, the old wounds as he sobbed.
And Rom didn’t stop.
Colton didn’t want him to, either.
Along his ass and just the very upper parts of his thighs, Rom switched canes a couple of times, but every impact was hard, searing, and soooo damned welcomed. Colton screamed and cried and begged for more, afraid more that Rom might stop too soon instead of going too far.
Only when Colton lay there between every stroke with hoarse, ragged sobs burbling from him did Rom finally wind up their scene. He took a series of quick, hard strokes, no breaks between them, rapid-fire blows along his ass that wrenched him up against his restraints and made his fists clench as he tried to hold on.
When it stopped, he sobbed again, sucking in deep breaths. Rom reached between his legs and leaned in. “Now.” His fist closed around Colton’s cock and it only took two pumps before he exploded, another strain against the restraints but this time with pleasure so exquisitely aching it bordered on pain.
And more tears, of relief and joy this time.
Rom unfastened his wrists and ankles and removed the blindfold and gag so he could kiss him, lick up his tears and whisper all the loving, sweet, tender things that made him desperately love this sadist so fucking much.
Finally, once Colton felt steady enough he could stand, Rom moved him from the bench to the bed and then cleaned everything up. He joined Colton in bed, cuddling him, playing with his hair, nuzzling his head.
Tomorrow would be fun sitting, but for tonight the silent bliss inside his noggin made it worth it. “What about you, Master?” he asked.
Rom kissed him again. “Your choice, baby. Whenever. No rush.”
But Colton was already sitting up, turning, wincing when he felt his sore ass and then happily moaning as he stretched out next to Rom and sucked down his cock.
Rom’s hand settled on his head. “That’s it, baby. You’re perfect.”
It didn’t take him long to suck it from Rom, either. He knew if he didn’t do it now, there was a very real possibility he might fall asleep on Rom, and he didn’t want to do that either.
As he tasted Rom’s cum, he felt satisfied, triumphant, even.
This belonged only to him.
The man who thought he was perfect.
The man who’d written several new chapters in Colton’s life, and who would keep helping him write new chapters.
Only after Rom’s cock lay soft and spent in his mouth did Colton let Rom coax him back up the bed again to snuggle.
A happy sigh escaped Rom. “Nap time, baby. Love you.”
Colton pressed his face against Rom’s chest, feeling his warm flesh against his cheek and hearing his heart beat in his ear. “Love you, too, Master.”
Yeah, he could spend the rest of his life like this. Easily. They could make time for them and still raise Clay.
And none of them ended up in a Georgia jail over assholes who weren’t worth the dirt on their shoes.
H
e closed his eyes and let sleep take him, knowing Rom had his back, had his life, had his heart.
Even more important—Rom had his trust.
THE END
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