Such a Drag

I was doing this so that I wouldn't feel guilty anymore, to absolve myself, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, "Thank you for punishing me. I am truly sorry Sir."

I felt him move behind me, "You don't have to count boy, focus on breathing."

The first lash was across the tops of my shoulders, laid just above the bone where I had flesh to protect. Despite his precaution to make sure I wasn't injured, the first two lines were pure fire. It felt like a two knives had slid across my back, flaying my skin. Two long thin tails: he was using a quirt. I sucked air through my teeth, willing the pain to abate.

The first lash to my ass was slightly easier and slightly worse, there was more flesh but the fire was spreading. Masochism is a strange thing, I felt like I was being cut apart but I was harder than a rock. My cock stood proudly out from my hips. Though I tried to stay as still as possible with each lash my cock would bob as if trying to seek some friction ahead of me.

The first lash on my thighs had me jerk out of position. My legs instinctively buckled away from the pain, the agony was unlike anything I had ever experienced. My legs were seared and scalded and rent asunder. By the grace of God my palms stayed on the table and after a few moments of reclaiming my breathing I was able to push my legs back into place.

Two more lashes, four more lines of bright agony. I was done. My eyes were filled with unshed tears and every muscle ached from standing so still. I felt like I had after running my first half marathon, my legs were jelly filled and shook with lactic build up. My cock could have cut diamonds.

Sir was touching me, rubbing the welts with cool cream and whispering how proud he was of me. I smiled, I still hadn't moved my hands from the table. I wouldn't until he told me to. The cream stung as it touched abused flesh but then calmed the burn.

His hands were on my ass when I broke my silence, "Please Sir." He knew what I wanted and it wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to fuck me, he would never fuck me right after a punishment. I wouldn't be allowed to cum for a while. The denial was a part of the punishment but more than that, he would never reward my misbehavior with his body and his orgasms or with my orgasms.

His hands grasped my shoulders pulling me upright. I was floating on endorphins as he led my through the house by my hand; he never let go of me. He laid me down on our bed on my stomach the cool slight breeze from the fan blowing over the eighteen perfect welts. He laid next to me, letting me snuggle up to his side. I went to sleep feeling his fingers comb through my hair.

I woke up to Sir kissing me on the forehead and handing me a glass of water. Dutifully, I sipped for a moment before realizing I was incredibly thirsty and draining the glass. I gazed up to Sir, his light blond hair was slightly mussed and his beard was full along his jaw. I wondered how long it had been since he had a good night's sleep. He had been on call for back to back shifts because of another doctor's family emergency.

"I'm sorry Sir," I whispered.

He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, "You're forgiven sweetheart. What happened? It's been a long time since you've smoked."

I sighed wanting to roll onto my back to look up easier at him; that wasn't going to be comfortable at all for a few days. "I got stressed." He just looked at me. He wasn't about to ask me to continue knowing that I would when I knew how to frame it correctly, "We've been hearing that the merger is coming for months. But I heard someone else talking about what that could actually mean. I could be laid off or even worse I could be transferred to a different state. I was out on my lunch break and I just," I took a deep breath feeling more stressed by the moment, "I needed the relief. I bummed one of off some guy outside our office. I'm so sorry."

"I already told you pet, you're forgiven. There's no need to be worried, Chris. You know you don't have to work if you don't want to. You could stay here and be my little pet all the time. But that's not what you want; so if you get laid off you'll find another job and if you get relocated you can find another job or maybe I could move there. Any way that it happens will be okay. I promise." His promise was everything; if I didn't believe it we had nothing.

So I smiled and leaned up for a kiss, he obliged running his fingers down my face and throat to come behind my head and pull me toward him.

His other hand reached down to my hand and brought it up high above my head. I was wrapped up in him, the taste of his clean breath and the smell of his citrusy cologne that I didn't know I was being handcuffed until the lock clicked into place. He sprang into action as I squawked in surprise at the sudden bondage. Just as soon, both of my hands where cuffed to the headboard.

He smirked at me with lust filled eyes, "The thing is sub: you're mine. So even if we are separated you will still be mine and we will figure out a way to be together as soon as possible." He slid a pillow underneath my hips and then cuffed my ankles to the footboard.

"Too tight around your ankles?" He asked making sure that there was room enough for me to wiggle but not enough for me to hurt myself with. He was always contentious of my ankle when we played. I felt like an old man but I still felt a twinge sometimes.

"No, Sir." I whispered, my cock hardening just from the bondage.

He stepped off the bed and I could hear fabric rustling, desperately I tried to turn my head to have a better vantage on him undressing. Our bodies were as different as they could get: I was raven haired with brown eyes and a teenaged body. I got carded at R-rated movies despite being able to legally drink for five years. He was developed, a fitness nut but he never overdid it. He looked brawny and masculine. His chest was covered in pelt of blonde hair that ran down to a happy trail to his uncut cock.

Sir uncapped a bottle of lube and spurted some onto his cock and then onto my upturned ass which was still heated from my punishment. His fingers, which could save lives and perform the most delicate of procedures, circled my hole. I tried to arch my back to get his fingers in me and he chuckled at my insistence. "Little on edge are we?"

"Please Sir. Please fuck me." I was needy for sex, needy for him.

There was no more prep, his hands went around my waist as his cock rested momentarily against my hole and then shoved in all the way. I screamed my joy at being filled roughly. I need it. I needed the primal-ness. I needed him to show that he owned me and wouldn't let us be split up. He didn't allow me time to adjust to his invasion already pulling out and slamming back in.

Every time he filled me his hips slammed into my sore ass, the burn only fueled my fire and I began a litany of swearing and egging him on, "Fuck, yes. Fill me. Breed me. Make me your bitch, Sir. Fuck, it feels so good."

He changed angles and he was in full contact with my thighs and he was making direct contact on my prostate, my encouragement became nothing but a string of unintelligible grunts and gasps. My hands fisted in the bedsheet as I forced my ass harder onto his dick, loving the agony and the fullness coming together.

He knew me, knew what I needed just like always, "Cum for me," he commanded as he spanked me right across the welts on my ass. He shoved in my ass and I came so hard I saw stars. My ass milked his cock through his impressive orgasm.

For just a moment he rested on my body. It stung against the welts but I craved his touch and would have endured the pain forever to be near him. He pulled out of my ass and unclipped my hands and ankles rubbing gently on each to make sure they were fine. My eyes were already closing as he cleaned me up and got me to drink a little water.

"Go to sleep," he said, "I'll be here. I'll always be here."