For
the last Saturday Spanking before Christmas, I have another bit from
Tomorrow’s Gifts. This is an intense scene between Michael
and Thorne Wilder – the ghost of Christmas future. It might be at
the hands of a stranger, but Michael is finally getting want he has
craved for so long: submission.
The
stranger had removed his jacket. I let my eyes wander hungrily over
his bare chest and linger on his prominent nipples, deep maroon
contrasting with his tanned, golden skin. He was more slender than
Neil but clearly strong. His shoulders, especially, showed
well-defined muscle that rippled ominously when he reached for the
crop.
“Good
boy,” he murmured, and I felt absurdly pleased. The shaft
whistled through the air. The leather tip of the crop snapped loudly
against the sofa. My heart jumped into my throat. “Lucky for you,
I know just how to use this.” He gestured toward the armchair in
the corner, where Neil normally sat to read the paper. “Bend over.
You know what I want, Michael.”
It
was the first time that he’d used my name in a while. That calmed
me, a bit, taking the edge off my terror without diminishing my lust.
I did know what he wanted, as if I could read his mind – or he
could read mine.
I
placed my hands on the padded arms, leaning over so that my back was
nearly horizontal. My naked ass was presented to his view, at a most
convenient height. I spread my thighs, knowing without being told
that this was appropriate. My balls dangled in the gap, easily
accessible. Vulnerable. On the Web, I’d occasionally watched
videos of testicle torture, horrified but unable to stop myself. I
didn’t want that, I’d told myself, trying to ignore the throbbing
in my cock. If this dream-man tried something like that, would I
stop him? Could I?
My
mind whirled, full of filthy images and unspeakable desires. For a
long while, though, my so-called master did nothing. I could tell
that he was behind me; I felt the air move when he stepped into
position. But he didn’t touch me. Gradually my chaotic emotions
subsided, leaving nothing but the ache of lust. I tried to relax, to
ready myself for what I knew was coming. The longer I waited, the
more I craved the blond man’s attention, even if it hurt.
His
hand hovered above my bare buttocks. I felt the heat emanating from
his palm. He didn’t touch me, but I felt a ghostly caress as he
trailed his fingers millimetres from my bare skin. Touch me,
I wanted to beg. Somehow I knew that I was not supposed to speak.
The spectral hand moved away, leaving my flesh crying for contact.
A
whoosh. A snap. A line of fire laced across my butt and burned into
my soul. I screamed, then choked back my cry, as another stroke
seared the opposite cheek. A third blow sliced crosswise across both
sides, triggering a howl of pain that I couldn’t suppress. God,
what if Neil heard? What if he woke and saw me, bent over like a
slut, offering my ass to this stranger?
“Don’t
worry, he can’t hear you.” The blows paused. I gasped, feeling
the fiery tracks across my flesh dying down to a pleasurable heat.
“We’re in a different time locus. You can scream all you want.
He’ll never know.” He lashed out again. The crop danced across
my skin, striking sparks wherever it landed. I yelled as each blow
landed, free at last.
I
was high on the fantasy. Finally, I was being beaten, by a gorgeous
man who knew exactly what I needed. The abstract wonder fled quickly,
however, replaced by the physical realities – intense pain and
equally overwhelming pleasure. I dreaded each stroke, yet as soon as
it arrived, even before the agony faded, I craved another. My new
master had apparently inexhaustible energy. Again and again he
slashed at my ass, until my whole backside was raw. He laid new
welts on top of the old ones. My flesh screamed, sensitised to the
point where the gentlest touch would wake painful echoes. And he was
far from gentle.
I
was beyond screaming. All I could do now was whimper, tears leaking
out from under my closed eyelids, fluid dripping from my rock-hard
cock. Yet I didn’t want him to stop. I was floating on a cloud of
sensation, borne up by the knowledge that I pleased him.
If
you like intense MM erotic romance, get yourself a copy of Tomorrow’s
Gifts – only 99 cents for a limited time.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Let me know your thoughts! (And if you're having trouble commenting, try enabling third-party cookies in your browser...)