Page 44 of Forfeits

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he said, then brought his hand down on my ass three times, hard, in succession. The sound rang out in the large room.

I moaned, and Aiden laughed. Then he roughly parted my ass cheeks and swiped a finger over my clenching hole as I stuttered a gasp.

“Now I have you right where I want you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

My voice sounded strange, as if I were miles underwater. I saw myself strapped to this bizarre contraption for Aiden’s pleasure and felt like I was home.

He swatted me with his palm for several moments, until I squirmed and yelped.

Then he laughed. “I’ve barely started.”

He came around in front of me.

“Having fun, slut?” he asked with an absolutely joyful smile, right before he wrapped my cock in his hand and gave it a few strokes.

“Oh, fuck…fuck!” I cursed, feeling overwhelmed in the best of ways. I was teetering on the edge, and we’d only just begun.

“Answer me.”

Aiden swiped his fingers over the leaking tip of my cock and spread the fluid around as he teased me, jerking me and tickling the underside and my taint and balls. I panted and groaned and struggled.

God, it felt good to be managed! All the stress of being a single father with a deceased partner disappeared, and all I could think about was how Aiden was making me feel.

“Yes! Yes, please don’t stop.”

“Why would I stop?” Aidan asked. “I’m having fun, too,” he said, going behind me again and delving between my cheeks with wet fingers. “Oooh, yes, so soft and pretty here. Whoever could have known that I’d be fingering you in the Bordello at Maverick Molly’s on our first visit?”

As he spoke, he rubbed at my hole and teased it open, sinking a finger in deep as I choked on air.

“Oh, yeah. What an ass.”

He pumped me with his finger, then added another as I struggled, as my cock dripped and my submissive heart pounded in triumph.

“Yes,” I whispered.

He withdrew his fingers and slapped my ass, hard. “All right, now. Let’s get serious.”

Then he was right in front of me. But he didn’t grab my dick. He looked at me instead.

“Want the paddle or the whip? This might be the only time I ever give you a choice, so choose wisely.”

My brain swirled with memories and desires, and it took some concentration to form the word.

“Leather paddle. Please. Please, Aiden.”

“Hmm. How did you know that was my favorite?” he said, pinching my chin and smiling as if I’d just told him my preferred kind of cookie. “Hold still. Let me see what we have to work with.”

Aiden disappeared again, and I closed my eyes, listening to his soft muttering as he searched for his tool.

“This’ll do. You want to see it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

When he held up the narrow brown leather and showed me how flexible it was and even brought it down with a swack against his palm, I almost cried.

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