Chapter Five
When he stood about a yard away, Franco held up his left hand, palm outward, and Rico stopped moving. Franco held a pair of long floggers in his right hand and began to circle around Rico as if inspecting him.
Rico’s entire body tingled with anticipation, warmed wherever he felt Franco’s gaze light. While he hadn’t expected this encounter, Rico couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have initiate him into BDSM than his friend.
A giggle escaped Rico’s lips.
Franco’s body stiffened. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, no disrespect, I assure you, Sir. I was just remembering something from my orientation.”
“I can see we are going to have to work on focus with you. But what did you find so humorous?”
“They’d been defining the responsibilities of the Top and bottom, but I was in a whole different headspace until they said sex wasn’t allowed in most of the club areas I’d be allowed in initially. So I asked and found out top and bottom mean something totally different to gay folk than to those who are into BDSM.”
Rico hazarded a peek from under his eyelashes and saw Franco biting the inside of his lower lip.
“Yes, I can remember the confusion when I first started reading about BDSM.”
The two hadn’t discussed having anal sex, so Rico had no clue if Franco preferred to be top, bottom, or vers. But Rico preferred to bottom exclusively and hoped that wouldn’t present problems if and when they had sex.
Franco stroked Rico’s shoulders, making his skin burn as if on fire. Rico wanted to lean back and let Franco touch him wherever he desired.
Bending closer to Rico’s ear, Franco growled, “Remove that ridiculous shirt, boi.”
Rico’s balls tightened as he took a deep breath.
Here we go!
Angie had told him about that feeling a submissive got when their stomach dropped into their groin at the moment a Dom gave a stare or command just before a scene was about to begin.
Damn, if I didn’t just have my first Ka-thunk!
Angie would die if she found out her big brother had been the one who’d given it to him.
“Don’t make me tell you twice, boi. Unless you’d like this to become a disciplinary session rather than an exploratory one. I’m happy to deliver either—or both.”
“Sorry, Franco. I mean, yes, Sir.”
Pulled out of his nervous musings, Rico removed his shirt in one smooth motion. Uncertain what to do with it, he held onto the skimpy thing and awaited further instruction. Franco’s intense stare made Rico’s nipples harden even more, if possible. Did Franco find his body hot too? Rico didn’t have time to go to gyms but did try to work out at home a few times a week.
Franco yanked the shirt from Rico’s hand, then slowly lifted it to his nose, and breathed deeply for a few moments, taking in Rico’s scent while his gaze remained locked with Rico’s.
Fuck, that was hot!
Suddenly, Rico remembered that staring at a Dom was the same as making eye contact with a predator animal. He lowered his gaze again, and Franco tossed his shirt on the bench behind him. Was that a bench used for spanking since fucking wasn’t allowed? Rico wondered which apparatus Franco planned to use—or use first—tonight. Because Rico was so new to this, he had no clue which he’d like best and had pretty much signed on for anything.
I’ll leave that up to Franco. Sir. Whatever.
Already beginning his mental surrender, Rico wanted to give Franco the respect he was due as his Dom for the evening. He couldn’t wait to begin, but Franco moved around behind him and stroked the top of his left shoulder with his free hand sending sparks flying through Rico’s chest. Occasionally, he squeezed the skin covering Rico’s shoulder blades as if preparing him for…something. Flogging, most likely, given what he held in his hand. Rico had indicated an interest in trying that, of course, but he’d filled out the interest form with some unknown Dom in mind.
Now he tried to remember all the things he’d wanted to try, but reimagined them with Franco as his Dom.
Holy fuck.
After a few minutes, Franco stepped back.
“What are your safewords, boi?”
“I haven’t really thought of any… Sir.” Would he ever remember to use the word smoothly when addressing his Dom?
“That’s okay. I’ll choose them for you tonight.”
Did that mean there might be another opportunity after tonight for him to choose his own?
Don’t read too much into Franco’s words.
“Did your instructor go over the traffic light system—red for stop, yellow for slow down and reassess, and green for good to go?”
“Yes, Sir.” But he didn’t intend to use red if he could help it. That would put a stop to what they were doing at the moment, but would it also end their entire scene? Rico didn’t want this once-in-a-lifetime experience with Franco to end before it got started.
Franco came around to stand in front of him again. “We’re going to begin slowly as I test your limits. Hold your wrists out for me, parallel to each other, palms down.”
Rico kept his gaze down and extended both arms toward Sir, realizing he’d unknowingly clenched them into fists. As he forced himself to open his hands, Franco grinned and turned around to set down the floggers before searching for something in the bag sitting on the bench.
When he faced Rico again, Franco buckled Rico’s left wrist into a black leather cuff and then fastened a matching cuff onto his right wrist. Each time, he held a finger against Rico’s pulse, whether to gauge his level of excitement or to keep from applying the cushioned wristbands too tightly, Rico wasn’t sure. Probably a bit of both.
“You indicated an interest in bondage. We’ll start with these, boi, and if you tolerate them well, we can work our way up the scale to other forms of restraints and bondage.”
The thought of being restrained, helpless, and at Franco’s beck and call thrilled him, even though the instructor had told him earlier tonight that the submissive held all the power in a safe, sane, and consensual encounter. Rico was ready to surrender all control.
“Thank you, Sir.” Franco’s caring and concern for his comfort and safety came through in little ways as he helped Rico relax somewhat.
Sir took him by his right wrist and spun him around slowly to face a St. Andrew’s cross. He propelled him closer and lifted Rico’s arms one at a time to clip each of the cuffs into D-hooks. Rico tested the bonds but couldn’t extricate himself.
Trust him.
“If you feel any tingling in your arms or hands, let me know immediately.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Sir stood behind him, out of sight, but his body heat gave Rico comfort in knowing he remained nearby—until he took a step away, leaving Rico wanting. Did he like the way Rico’s ass looked in the G-string? Franco didn’t say anything but raked his nails across Rico’s biceps to his shoulders and down his sides until he skimmed them along the space between his thigh and ass. Gooseflesh rose on his skin in the wake of Franco’s fingernails.
Franco leaned in again until his furry chest pressed against Rico’s shoulder. His teeth bit down on Rico’s earlobe as he slid his rough hand down Rico’s back, slipped it under the G-string, and grazed Rico’s supersensitive hole.
“Nice,” Franco whispered then smacked him on the ass.
Unsure whether he was supposed to acknowledge the compliment, Rico chose to keep his mouth shut until asked a direct question.
Franco squeezed where he’d smacked him. Rico’s balls tightened and his sphincter twitched. “This ass is mine tonight.”
All Rico could think about was having Franco’s finger—or better yet, cock—inside him right now.
“I’m bringing the blood to the surface,” Franco explained. His Dom for the evening had Rico’s blood boiling at this point. “It’ll make the flogging more intense.”
Oh. And here I thought you were trying to get better access.
Rico drew a deep breath, trying to relax into the sensations Franco stirred up. When Sir stepped back, Rico felt the absence of his touch again. Then he heard the swishing noise he’d heard when he first opened the door to this theme room.
At first, he only felt the breeze the tails made as they spun in the air, until they reached Rico’s back. The tips started to make contact on his shoulders, exactly where Franco had aroused the nerve endings a few moments ago. He focused the lashes in that area. The tension that had been building since he’d arrived in Denver last night began to dissipate. Maybe Angie was right.
After a few minutes of focused attention to his torso, he moved the flogger down to just above the curve of his ass and began to light a fire from the inside out. Rico fisted his hands, overwhelmed at the intense sensations. Then Sir stopped.
“What color are you, boi?”
Color? Oh! The safeword system. “Green as a leprechaun’s hat, Sir.”
Sir chuckled, which made Rico smile. He wanted to please him in so many ways. The flogger brought him back to the present, and Rico focused his entire being on the sensation of the stinging tips striking his skin.
Something shifted in the way he was being flogged, and instead of stinging, the tails hit him with a thud, over and over again. He liked that too, although perhaps not as much as the stinging sensation earlier. Rico surrendered into the cross, letting the flogging ease more tension from him.
He couldn’t do much to help Michelle other than make her as comfortable as possible and to console and take care of her and her daughter. In the wee hours of the morning, as he’d held Michelle after a particularly bad bout of vomiting, she’d made him promise he would take care of Gina if anything happened to her. Rico shushed her from that line of thinking but had promised to do so. Otherwise, she never would have gone back to sl—
Intense pain bloomed in his ass when the flogger struck him with more force than Franco—Sir—had used before. He slapped the lashes against him even harder.
“Do I have your complete attention now, boi?”
How did he know Rico’s mind had wandered? Was he psychic or something?
“Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me which sensation you enjoyed most—stinging or thudding.”
“Stinging, Sir.”
“How about those last two blows?”
Rico had to think a moment. “They surprised me, Sir. I…didn’t like the first one as much as the second.”
“Good to know. Thank you, boi.”
Unfortunately, Franco didn’t strike him with the flogger again. Rico heard him rummaging through the bag of toys he’d brought. Without preparation, he began rapidly smacking Rico’s ass with what felt like a paddle. He hadn’t been paddled at any point in his life, not even as a kid, but these light taps didn’t hurt so badly. His butt grew warm, but then Franco landed a hard whack on his left cheek followed quickly by one on the right.
“Damn!” Rico hadn’t expected that and wasn’t prepared.
“How do you address me?”
“Damn, Sir!”
“Color?” Franco could hear the mirth in his voice, so his insubordination might go unpunished.
Was he still green or had he moved into yellow? What color?
“Chartreuse, Sir?”
The Dom struck him even harder in the same areas. “Don’t get cute with me, boi. You know the color system we agreed to.”
“Sorry, Sir.” Those last two swats weren’t so bad in retrospect. He kind of enjoyed the burn afterward. “Green, Sir.” He could always change his mind if the blows became unbearable, but he wanted to find out what his limits were, and Franco—Sir—said he was willing to test them during this session.
The next few blows landed on the upper curve of his ass again, but the two that followed struck lower, where his butt and thighs met.
“Yellow!” Mary, Mother of God, that hurt!
“How do you address me?”
Oh, fuck, I forgot again.
“Sir, Sir.” He rolled his eyes at how stupid that sounded, but his mind remained distracted by the stinging. He wasn’t sure if he liked this anymore, but he didn’t totally dislike it, either. Yeah, yellow seemed appropriate.
Tonight would be an interesting exploration, that’s for sure.