Page 4 of Bound By Her

Past Seth’s shoulder, Kaydon squared off, ready to give Seth his final punishment strokes.

Kaydon, the bulkier of the three, was Bryson’s Right Hand. Chosen for the assignment at a young age, Kaydon approached the job with an annoyingly serious attitude.

His broad frame flexed just prior to the swing, hazel eyes narrowing in on their target.

Thwack.

Seth jolted in Bryson’s arms.

“Count,” Bryson said mercilessly.

“One!” Seth breathed into the room, but the damage was done.

Kaydon clicked his tongue. “Tsk tsk, we don’t count the ones where we forget the rules, do we?”

Tears swam in Seth’s eyes. He could handle pain, but failing was a far greater challenge.

Bryson locked eyes with Kaydon, narrowing his gaze, having no difficulty conveying his displeasure.

Keep it up, Kaydon, and you’ll be on the floor next.

The years they spent together fostered a deep understanding, and Kaydon flushed under his stare.

Bryson met Kaydon in childhood, and the two quickly became best friends. They met Seth in their teens, doing jobs for Bryson’s father. Back then, they had been inseparable, and not much had changed as adults.

Thwack.

Seth tensed in his arms.

“One,” he shouted.

Bryson ran his fingers through Seth’s damp hair, calming him.

Thwack.

“Two!”

The noise continued for a few more administrations, but after five, Kaydon dropped the paddle, and Bryson flipped Seth over easily, his face stained with tears. Kaydon took Seth’s cock into his mouth and sucked greedily. Seth fluttered his heavy eyelids.

“You like that, don’t you, Killer?” Bryson asked.

Seth nodded lazily, red marks still around his neck from Bryson’s hand. Seeing the haze in his expression, Bryson fisted Seth’s hair. Pulling his head back, he watched as a little clarity came into Seth’s eyes.

“Let me hear how much you like it,” Bryson said.

Seth flushed, but a soft moan escaped his lips.

Bryson observed Kaydon working Seth. His head and lips moved up and down Seth’s erection with various tempos. Bryson tugged at Seth’s hair whenever he grew too quiet. He liked his brothers’ vocalizations with their pleasure and pain.

Kaydon had his own brand of torture. When Seth appeared on the edge, Kaydon would slow down to a snail’s pace and then, once Seth regained some composure, engulf him deeply in his throat, moving up and down as if it were his final feast.

Seth whimpered, his body trembling in Bryson’s arms, the tension in him reaching a breaking point.

Bryson looked down, taking in the flush of Seth’s cheeks, the glassy sheen in his eyes, the way he shook.

“You look adorable,” Bryson murmured.

Seth bristled, but didn’t argue. He couldn’t.

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