Cambridge Men

Henry was enthralled by the captivity of the position. Held tightly in Enzo's grasp, he gave himself to the serenity of powerlessness that coursed through his veins. Enzo struck his thigh again, harder. The pain rent through him, swelling then subsiding. Crack! The cane came down over both his thighs. Crack! It cleaved into him again. Henry screamed involuntarily through closed lips, and he was glad that Enzo's hand was there to mute the sound. Crack! Crack! Crack! His thighs were on fire; his vision was hazy. He groaned through the pain, then gasped as the cane came down again.

Enzo removed his hand from Henry's mouth and ran it across Henry's body. He massaged Henry's legs, which felt hot and sore beneath his touch. "Do you like it?" Enzo asked.

Henry tried to take a mental step back and think beyond the immediacy of the sensations he was feeling. Did he like it? "I'm not sure," he admitted. "But I like that it's you doing it." In response, Enzo tilted Henry's head back by his hair, leaned down, and kissed him. His thin, dexterous lips curved around Henry's lips, as if to consume them. Henry lingered in the sensation, letting himself be swept up in Enzo's grasp. "Two more blows," Enzo told him, sitting up. "One on each thigh."

Henry closed his eyes and prepared himself for the impact, but instead, he found that Enzo had passed the cane to him. "I want you to do it yourself," Enzo instructed.

Incredulously, Henry took the cane. He tried to steel himself for the task, but the thought of inflicting the pain on himself was daunting. "Do it for me," Enzo murmured.

"Okay," Henry assented. For Enzo, he thought. He raised the cane, then brought it down with a sharp swish on his left thigh. He flinched as the impact of it sent a fresh burst of pain through his thigh.

Enzo reached down and traced a finger across the thin line of red that had appeared where Henry had hit his own thigh. "Very good," he encouraged. "Do the next one harder."

Henry's pulse raced as he brought the cane up again. Gritting his teeth, he brought it down, hard, and his right thigh. Immediately, he felt the searing blow send a wave of pain through his leg. He gasped and dropped the cane, grasping Enzo's legs. Enzo held Henry's body tightly in his arms. "Thank you," he said to Henry. He kissed Henry's neck. His hands traveled over Henry's body, grasping his bruised flesh. It was over.

The two sat in silence for several moments as Henry collected his thoughts. Enzo seemed to sense that Henry needed time to come back into himself after the experience.

Finally, Henry turned toward and Enzo and looked up into his eyes. "Thank you," he said.

Enzo gave Henry a quizzical look. "For what?"

Henry was not sure himself how to encapsulate in words what he was grateful to Enzo for. For dominating him? For giving him the opportunity to let the pressures of power fall to the wayside for a few tantalizing minutes? For accepting this impulse in Henry? For finding pleasure in it? "Just...thank you."

Enzo shrugged. Henry got the impression that he understood what Henry wanted to say, even if Henry himself had not yet found the words to say it. "You're welcome."