Page 96 of Gambler's Conceit
I’d only just started to escape those thoughts.
Fuck.
Caleb approaches the bed and trails the ends of his flogger along my bare back. “So I shouldn’t punish you after all? You don’t want me to give you this?”
“I didn’t say that!” I say, the panic getting more intense. “I don’t… Don’t twist my words,Master. You want to punish me, you think I deserve it, so punish me.”
“I don’t think you deserve it,” Caleb answers softly. “I love giving you pain, pet, but it’s because I like seeing your reactions, not because I want to punish you.” He places his hand on the small of my back. “Pain is something I’m sharing with you, not forcing on you.”
“I don’t…” I shake my head, biting my bottom lip.
I don’t understand.
He’d been angry when we’d come back, hadn’t he? Or had it just been that Havoc and Vortex had been so pissed off that it had seemed like Caleb had been too?
“Please,” I say. I need something I can focus on, something I can understand, and the only things I know that thoroughly are sex and violence. “I need you to… to do that. To share pain with me. Or fuck me. Or… Or something. I don’t know. Just… please.”
My eyes blur with tears. I don’t know what I’ll do if Caleb denies me this.
“All right.” Caleb bends down and kisses the top of my head. “I’m going to give you fifteen lashes.”
I shake my head and desperately plead, “That’s not enough.”
It’s always been thirty lashes. Thirty is good. Thirty was when she’d get tired of whipping me, and she would stroke my back gently and say, “I hope you learned your lesson, baby.”
Anything less than thirty, and she wouldn’t touch me after.
“I’m giving you fifteen, and we’ll see how you feel after,” Caleb says, a bit harsher. “But I trust I can make you feel it.”
He backs away, and Havoc tightens his grip on my shoulders. “If you want to stop, you tell me,” Havoc says. “I’ll fucking get between you and the flogger and take it myself if I have to, okay?”
Something like annoyance edges in alongside the panic, and it makes it a little easier to breathe. “I can handle it.”
I can handle a lot, probably more than they think I ever could.
“I suppose there’s no point in starting with a warm-up stroke,” Caleb says. “Havoc, don’t jostle him around. I want to make him hurt, not cause damage. But I think you understand that sentiment, right?”
Havoc lets go of me long enough to flip Caleb off. “I’m not like you, you fuckwad.”
I open my mouth to whine, but that’s when the first lash hits me.
I cry out in pain, surprised at just how sharp it is.
Caleb really didn’t bother with a warm up at all—and I’m fucking grateful for it.
I take the lashes with greedy relish, the pain warming up my back and my ass as he gives me a proper flogging. He knows what he’s doing; that much is clear in each stroke.
If I have to try to fuck some random guy in the bar to get this again, I will.
About halfway through, I think I hear Vortex saying something. I ignore him, rubbing my face against Havoc’s thighand enjoying the feeling of the pleasure and pain as they coalesce inside of me.
It feels so fuckinggood.
The lashes keep coming, landing close to each other and stacking pain on pain on pain. I groan and grind my cock against the bed. My face heats up, the arousal blending with the agony of the next lash.
I could do this forever.
“Fourteen,” Havoc whispers, cutting into my hazy thoughts.