The Great Rabbit Hunt by A. C. Ellas

Author:A. C. Ellas [Ellas, A. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, fantasy, erotic, gay, adult, m/m
Amazon: B00A45ZM2W
Publisher: eXtasy Books
Published: 2012-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven: The Luthier

Rak slipped into the Sunny Boy taproom and cleared the doorway before he paused, his gaze sweeping the room. He was hopeful that Yonaph would be there. If not, he would have to find someone to relieve him despite the risk. Perhaps the innkeeper would help in that respect.

He spotted Yonaph sitting alone at his usual table, drinking quietly. He had a workman’s leather-over-wood-framed tool case with him, tucked under the table out of the way of the serving wenches. He raised his tankard and the dark priest nodded, walked across the room, and took the seat opposite the man. “Night’s blessing on you, Yonaph.”

Yonaph raised one finger of his opposite hand and a serving wench swiftly deposited another tankard. Rak inclined his head and flipped the girl a coin. He sipped from the tankard and smiled a little. “Not a bad brew.”

“Perhaps you want a lute?” Yonaph indicated his case. “I’ve just come back from a noble’s house.”

Rak’s eyebrows shot up. “You are a minstrel?”

“I am a luthier,” Yonaph said. “I enjoy the playing but dislike the traveling, and I like the crafting best of al.”

“Interesting. Perhaps some night you wil show me your work.” Rak took another swalow of ale. “But tonight…I know it is early, but the stress…I need, and badly.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Ai,” said Rak shortly. He drained his tankard.

Yonaph stood and puled Rak to the bar. “The usual room,” he told the innkeeper.

“Room three is open,” said the innkeeper. He set the training colar and leash on the counter.

Rak hesitated at the colar, remembering Hasaviz. “Must I?”

Yonaph shot Rak a warning look as the innkeeper shook his head.

There were men staring at them. Rak looked at the colar, then at Yonaph, then at the customers. He closed his eyes and nodded agreement. Yonaph locked the colar on his neck. He clipped the leash and yanked hard. Rak stumbled, and the men muttered in satisfaction.

“Whip the insolent cur!” suggested one.

The innkeeper handed Yonaph a whip and Rak received a sharp crack across his thigh. Rak flinched at the blow and whispered, “Post, master?”

He was so quiet that Yonaph, standing beside him, had to strain his ears.

“To the post!” Yonaph snarled and gave Rak another blow as if he had thought of it. He was certain that nobody else had heard Rak’s question.

It made sense to publicaly punish him for his defiance over the training colar.

Rak immediately went to the whipping post in the corner of the taproom.

“Strip him so he realy feels it,” the onlookers advised.

“Strip!” Yonaph folowed with another crack of the whip.

Rak removed his clothing obediently, setting it aside before he raised his wrists to be bound to the top of the post. He had stripped to the skin, leaving nothing, not even his wrap. The customers whistled in appreciation and teased Yonaph for his luck in owning such a slave.

Yonaph squeezed Rak’s ass for al to see. He whirled the whip over his head and smacked him from buttocks to thighs and down to his ankles.

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