Chapter 32
thirty-two
cam
Iwas in the middle of getting air back into my lungs when Daddy got me on my feet. The height difference between us wasn’t the hugest, but it felt larger now, when my lips tasted of musk and the salt from his cum, and I had to be flushed all over.
“Color, Cam?”
I panted, swaying forward against him. Balance had never been my forte, but it wasn’t something I was self-conscious about, either. Like, I already had enough things that made me that way.
“Green, Daddy.”
Saúl hummed. He still had the flogger in his hold, the twisted leather that had seemed so shiny when I’d walked into the office full of energy, now looking more threatening. I had a tendency to bite off more than I could chew. It was how I’d built my tolerance.
It was also not something I started negotiations with. For some reason, Sadists didn’t love it.
I still wanted it, though. Threatening didn’t mean bad. It didn’t lodge my heart up my throat or leave me holding my breath or my heartbeat rising to worrying levels.
It just made it harder to keep my eyes off the toy. Funny thing how we referred to literal torture devices as toys in BDSM spaces, huh?
Focus, Cam.
Another thing to remember was that my brain didn’t stop wandering from one idea to another just because it had been promised the good kind of endorphins in return. Not a lot of fun, to be honest.
“Can you bend forward so you’re holding on to your ankles?”
I frowned. It was a combination of the request and the fact that processing words was harder when all I was focusing on was the twisted knots at the end of each strand of leather and how they’d feel once he started letting go.
Every Dom started slow, and I had a feeling Saúl would start even slower.
It had to be part of his deal as a Sadist, the one who needed to trust his masochist first.
The one who knew me.
This wasn’t the time to come to the realization that he was the first Dom I’d been with who actually did, was it?
It’s fine.
Just deep breaths.
It’s all good.
“No promises on keeping my balance.”
It wasn’t the sexiest, but no one could say I wasn’t honest.
The corners of Saúl’s lips twitched up. I’d be using the faint gesture against him for as long as I could realistically milk it.
He liked my honesty, but he didn’t go immediately into Daddy mode.
That was my experience with other Doms, and why Daddies had stayed as a fantasy that would never be realized.
Sadly, he went back to business two seconds later, eyes scanning the room.
It was rather bare, not going to lie. A run-of-the-mill office in an old house.
Nothing like Damian’s basement or the kind of secret playroom I’d fantasized about when he confessed the office was where he worked on his leather commissions.
There were a couple more discreet spanking benches tucked to the side, and a work station where a bookshelf used to be—based on the marks on the wall—but there was nothing kinky about the rest of the space. Other than, you know, the floggers and paddles resting on the desk.
“What if I move the bench, and you lean against it length-wise, then drape over? You can hold on to the feet to feel supported.”
Did I mention I was terrible at visualizing shit? If you needed someone to come up with a million fatalistic scenarios, I was your person. But visualizing the real-life, present-time shit?
Yeah, miss me with it.
Still, I guessed it could work.
“My ankles would be strapped in?”
I scrunched up my nose. I kind of wanted to ask why I couldn’t just be on the bench like a normal masochist, but it was probably too early for that kind of button pushing. I could have some restraint.
“I don’t think the straps reach that low.” Daddy moved to get the bench off the wall as he spoke. “You’re new to this type of flogger, so I’d rather take extra steps to make sure your lower back is protected.”
Oh.
Oooooh.
See? Not giving him sass paid off.
I was not going to get emotional over basic risk assessments and safety steps that should be the bare minimum, but I wasn’t made of stone, either.
“Okay. Yeah, that can work.”
It would make more sense when I got in position—or when he got me in the position he wanted, since I was still struggling to get it.
Huh.
It turned out that it wasn’t as difficult as I’d thought. My legs were taller than the height of the bench Saúl had picked, so when I bent over, the tip of my cock grazed the padded leather of the bench, and most of my lower back was inclined, out of the way of the flogger.
Having my head upside down was kind of disorienting, but I liked the rush of blood, another sensation that added up.
Besides, this was better than when I was tied up upside down to a cross. The blood rush was easier to reverse.
“Remember the rules, Cam?”
I nodded. “Color every five hits of the flogger.”
Saúl ran a hand down my back. I hadn’t noticed he’d gotten that close. I tended to lose a lot of spatial awareness when other things took precedence. “Good boy.”
Footsteps followed the praise. I held my breath, then glanced upward when I could glimpse the tip of his big toe. I’d never had a Dom get completely naked with me when fucking wasn’t going to happen right that minute.
It had me sinking more, falling just that tad deeper that would make others appropriately concerned for my sanity.
He squatted down, his fingers helping lift my head up until he could have his lips on me. He wasn’t the finest of kissers, but I loved the urgency within each touch, the aggression he was hardly keeping in check.
“What’s that for, Daddy?”
“An apology I can’t have you whimpering in my mouth while I use this on you.”
Fuck.
Wasn’t I just thinking I wouldn’t fall for basic treatment?
But this didn’t feel like basic Dom-treatment anymore.
I was in trouble.
“S-Saúl?”
He’d started to stand up, but he froze when I said his name. “Yeah?”
“Does this feel really intense for you, too?”
One heartbeat. Two.
I was wondering if I should prepare myself for the kind of answer that would be hard not to take personally.
“It does.”
Okay.
The air left my lungs. Strangely enough, the vulnerability in his voice, even when he was supposed to be the big, strong D-type, had me breathing easier. It had me feeling more confident, more prepared for whatever he’d unleash on both my body and soul.
We were together in whatever mess we were building.
I barely reacted to the first hit. As expected, it was softer, barely any power behind it. My ass clenched on reflex, but I couldn’t say I’d felt more than the different strands landing against my cheek. It went like that for the next two hits.
“Ready, darlin’?”
“Did that one even count?”
Okay. Look. I hadn’t planned on the bratty attitude. The brat just took over sometimes, and there was little to nothing I could do about it.
There had been a point to the question, though, even if it was only going to get me in trouble.
Oh, well.
“No.”
Oh.
Oops?
Something made me think that wouldn’t have been the answer if I’d kept my voice shut, or I’d asked all properly.
Damn.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Did that fix the damage?
My fingers tightened around the feet of the bench. The position wasn’t ideal, but the bench really felt sturdy, and I needed something to hold on to if I didn’t want to lose myself, running three steps ahead.
Well, he wasn’t bluffing. It was what ran through my head when the first actual lashes hit me. My inner monologue helped to cope with the air sucked out of my lungs and the way my entire body clenched, fighting the impulse to run away or scramble.
I didn’t want to run away. I wanted the lashes of the leather to add up and build up that heat and burn that would last for days on end.
Three hits of the flogger, and I was biting on the inside of my cheek. Screaming from the get-go was never a good look. I’d built a reputation, too, even if he wouldn’t know about it. Things didn’t have to be fully logical to make sense.
The fourth hit landed a bit lower, touching the sensitive skin where my thigh and butt cheek met. I grunted.
The fifth didn’t take long, mimicking the fourth one on the opposite cheek.
I clenched my jaw, gritting my teeth. “Green, Daddy.”
Saúl had said I didn’t have to keep track of the numbers this first time, but I was nothing if not an overachiever.
I wanted him to let loose, too. The best way to achieve that was to show I was the best rule follower around. I was, obviously. It didn’t hurt to bring more of a spotlight to the fact.
“Good boy.” Saúl stepped closer. He rested his hand on my ass.
It was nothing, but I gasped at the soothing touch.
I never quite knew what to do when Doms alternated between soft and hard strokes, between pain and comfort and pleasure.
It was the most Sadistic kind of mindfuck.
“Now are you going to do a better job of staying still?”
“I—” I sputtered. I’d been moving? Oops. “I’ll try, Daddy?”
For better or worse, losing spatial awareness when surrounded by kinky stimuli also meant losing awareness of my own location. Another part of my reputation back home had to do with needing to tie me up for anything and everything.
I’d lowkey forgotten the reason for it.
“You’re a sight, darlin’.” His thumb stroked up my taint, laying a claim to what I was really hoping would come soon. “Don’t worry. I’ll have you better positioned next time.”
Another day, I’d pepper him with questions. Right now, I did my best to ignore my cock perking up and the shiver up my spine the words induced.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Daddy gave me another soft stroke before taking a step back.
Part of me wanted to get a better glimpse of him.
I couldn’t hold my head upside down that long, though.
I definitely couldn’t when he applied more force to his next strike, and my body snapped up as much as it was physically possible while somehow keeping my hold on the feet of the bench.
I deserved all the rewards for this.