Page 105 of A Brat's Tale
He keeps a particular cadence for this strapping, one I can’t track, making it difficult to anticipate. Without knowing the outcome it’s best to simply let go. The intensity builds and burns, when the nextthwackcomes, my flesh feels the pain before I’m struck, it’s a struggle to stay put. My fingers claw the sheets.
The next stripes have me bucking and crying out. I forget to breathe, Corrik reminds me. It’s a new kind of strapping, one where I’m releasing—as I’ve done before—but I’m also giving. This is for Corrik. I give him my pain, my cries, I give him the tender parts of me. The end of it doesn’t even cross my mind. He can have as much of me as he needs.
I flinch when he touches my throbbing backside thinking it’s going to be the strap again. The combination of his gentle touch and the sting tickles. I giggle and curl into the sheets, still floating. “That was divine, Tristan. I’m … wow. I’m experiencing a spanker’s high.”
“I’m glad, sir.”
He helps me up, I buzz all over. “I’d like you to kneel for me. You’re going to suck my cock all pretty like this.”
“Yes, sir.”
He places the velvet purple pillow on the floor for me—purple must be his thing, like his eyes—and I kneel feeling like maybe I was as graceful as Tom. I plant my toepads, pressing them into the pillow and hiss when my sore arse comes into contact with my heels. It burns, endorphins race through my veins, my heart beats an excited rhythm. I secure my hands behind my back and look up to him.
Corrik’s still dressed, a bulge the size of a melon at his crotch. He pulls his pants down just enough and his giant Elven cock springs out. “Suck.”
He shoves his cock into my mouth and I taste the sweet Elven pre-come. I don’t know what other come tastes like, I’ve only ever been with Elves, but it’s sweet and sometimes salty after practice on the fields. I open enough to accommodate his width and gag as he shoves in, tears prick my eyes, my cock wakes up ready to party at the humiliation of it.
I hum around his cock and suck as Corrik fucks my mouth. I admire the way his jaw tenses, his mouth open and his thick thighs squeezing. When he comes, his hair waves like a gust of wind’s come up and he moans loudly, pushing his cock toward the back of my throat as I work to swallow as much as I can. He pulls out and come drips down my chin. I keep my wrists clasped behind my back, resisting the urge to wipe the come away.
He’s not done with me.
He yanks me to standing. “Keep your wrists together,” he says and with a bit of Elven magic, they stay that way. When he applies a cuff that wraps around both wrists, I complain that it’s unnecessary. “This is not just about binding you. You need decorations.”
Of course.
More cuffs are attached, one wrapped onto each ankle and then he leads me to the bed again, only this time I’m told to kneel onto the mattress. “Lean onto your shoulders, bring your hands through toward your feet.”
Using a length of chain, he secures the singular wrist cuff to both of the ankle ones and now I’m bound with my arse in the air. I don’t get to see him undress; I know he’s naked when he’s hot skin is against mine. For a creature who lives in a frozen kingdom, he’s hot a lot of the time.
I’m aching with need. My cock has been in and out of hardness all day and this position has me exposed and vulnerable—a deadly combination for my arousal. “Sir, please. Please fuck me.” My voice is whiny but I can’t help it. I’m worked up and worked over at this point. I need him filling me, pounding into me.
“Oh? You think you deserve my cock, do you?”
“I do, sir. I’ve been a good boy.” I have, for me. It’s all relative.
He slips a finger inside me. “You were a little naughty but not you-don’t-get-my-cock naughty.”
Thankfully he can’t see my self-satisfied grin.
“That doesn’t mean you get to come.” Dammit. “But I’m in a good mood, I could be persuaded, if you beg prettily enough.”
“I can beg, sir. I’ll beg as much as you want.” My usual Tristan pride is gone. I want to come and I’ll pay any price. My cock leaks onto the bed, Corrik whispers the words of the self-lubing spell and slides two fingers into my arse, twisting them in and out.
They only just reach my prostate though, barely enough to massage it. Fucking tease. “Please. Please sir.”
Cool air from the window breathes across my skin, chilling the sweat dripping down my freshly strapped thighs. The reminder of what Corrik’s looking at makes my cock ache more—I wish he’d fucking touch it. I can’t. My hands trapped as they are, it’s even too difficult to buck my hips. “Please.”
“You need my cock badly don’t you, Tahsen?”
Arsehole. I’d think that was apparent by now. “Yes, sir.”
He swipes his wet fingers across my balls and along my cock, fulfilling my silent wish for it to be touched but it’s only more torturous. How I must look, trying to follow his fingers with my cock, desperate and needy. “Sir, I’ll do anything. Anything at all, please fuck me.”
“Anything? You should be careful who you promise anything to, especially if that someone is a sadist. All right, I’ll bless you with my cock,” cocky bastard, “but you’re going to hold your orgasm for me.”
I groan into the sheets.
He laughs. “Still interested?”
