Hammer 13 - Solitary by Sean Michael

Author:Sean Michael [Michael, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Ap led Greg down the hall to a door they hadn't been through before. Greg followed, because he simply couldn't think. All he could do was feel.

The room was large and bright, sun shining in through the many frosted windows. There was a bed, padded benches at several heights, and a huge armoire, door closed at the moment. It was warm, soothing, a huge contrast from Tim's stark, industrial dungeon.

"You like what you see?" Ap's voice was like that, too, surrounding him in warmth where so many Masters had been cold.

"It's warm. Comfortable." Could a place like this bring comfort?

Ap nodded. "Yes. Good. We'll start with you on the thigh high bench."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to lie on the bench on your stomach.

We're going to play. Hard." He stroked Greg's cheek --

Greg's smooth cheek.

He moaned, rubbed into the touch. "Yeah. Okay. I can do that."

"Yes, you can." The swat to his ass made him jump, move. "That was for the 'okay'. You know what a riding crop is, boy?"

"I do." He had felt one before.

Once he'd climbed on the table, Ap helped him lie on his stomach, hands warm on his skin.

"Did you like it?"

"It was a punishment for fucking up."

"This isn't going to be a punishment. This is to fly, to see if we can't find your subspace." Ap's hands moved over him, touching his back, his neck, his ass and legs, touching him everywhere.

His skin was incredibly sensitive, burning, tingling, and he fought the urge to move.

"You're stunning like this, boy."

He whimpered softly. "Thank you."

Solitary

89

A soft kiss landed on his ass, Ap's lips hot. He almost sobbed, that tiny touch so loving, so gentle.

Then Ap patted his other ass cheek and moved toward the wardrobe. "I'm just getting the crop. I'll be right back with you in a second."

It was so quiet. So still. He could hear every move Ap made. The man didn't leave him hanging there in the quiet, either.

"One of the reasons why I love the crop is because it's leather. I do love the way it smells." Ap's voice poured over him, helped him relax.

Then the man was back by the bench he lay on, body warm as Ap stood near him. Ap's fingers settled on the small of his back, hard, warm, solid.

"Take a few deep breaths. Relax and find your center."

"Okay. Yeah." He stopped, winced at himself. "I mean, yes, sir."

A soft smack hit his bottom, hardly enough to feel.

"Nice catch, boy."

"I'm trying. I want to be good." He wanted to be worthy.

"I know. And that makes me so proud."

The words made Greg's heart hurt, deep inside.

"Now breathe for me, boy. Calm and peaceful while you wait for the crop." Ap's hand began to move, up and down his back, guiding his breath. "That's right, boy. In and out, find a good place."

He wasn't sure he would be able to find a good place, but he did. The world got quiet and simple for a moment. He had no clue how long they stayed like that, Ap's hand along his spine, everything else just gone.

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