Bringing Nicky Home by Sean Michael

Author:Sean Michael [Michael, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotic Romance Fiction
Publisher: Pride Publishing
Published: 2016-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

His ass burned, all the way to the bone.

He could hear his Master wandering around the playroom, opening cabinet doors, pulling things out. God, this was amazing. He’d never dreamed it could be this good. Okay, maybe he’d fantasized once or twice about something like this, but that wasn’t real.

This was magic.

Kinky, delicious, sexual magic.

Whip came back and touched his ass, just lightly, but it lit him up. His toes curled and he gasped, his head lifting off the table.

“Very nice and sensitive. Shall we see what else is sensitive?”

Oh, that sounded amazing and a little awful. Whip laid the crop across his back, sharp and quick. He jerked, but mostly from the sound, not any real pain.

“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Whip asked, hitting him with it again.

“I— Yes!” When Whip caught the edge of his leg, his breath huffed out of him.

“Was that the truth, pup, or what you think I wanted to hear?” Whip asked.

“Both. I’m still trying to understand what I’m feeling.”

“Okay. I always want the truth, not what you think I want to hear. Because maybe what you think I want to hear isn’t at all what I want to hear.”

He wasn’t sure what Whip meant, but he could fake it until he did. “Yes, Master.”

“Good pup.” Whip patted his ass again, and he could feel each and every finger.

“Thank you,” he moaned, imagining light following the touch.

“You’re welcome, my beautiful pup.” Whip rubbed his ass again, then the crop returned, whistling through the air before hitting his shoulders. This time, the sting was forefront and he hissed.

Whip continued to lay down stripes across his back, alternating where the crop hit. It was difficult for him to find Whip’s rhythm, to understand when the next blow was going to land.

“Stop anticipating it, pup. Just let them happen.”

How did Whip know? “I’m trying!”

“Try harder.” Whip laid the next line down across his shoulders.

“I don’t know how.” He whimpered softly, muscles jerking.

Whip’s hand settled in the small of his back, solid and warm. “Okay, pup. Breathe for me. One breath at a time.”

That he could do. That he understood. He sucked in one deep breath after another.

“There you are. Now focus on each breath.”

In and out, in and out. Slowly, he began to relax, to sink into his subspace.

“Good job. Now I’m going to use the crop again.”

He tensed and Whip’s hand landed gently on his waist.

“No, pup. Breathe. No tension. In and out.”

Whip waited until he had it, that hand solid and sure, giving him a center to build on. Then the crop fell again, but this time he was focused almost totally on his breath.

“That’s it, Nicky. Keep it right there.” The crop fell another time, then once more.

Right there. Right there. Yes. The sting found him, but he took it, added it to the increasing burn.

The crop continued to fall, but even though Whip was back to hitting seemingly randomly, he was able to ride it now, to stay in sync with his master.

“So pretty.

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