I wake before he does and decide to do something I've only done to him once. Rolling him carefully onto his back so as to not wake him, I begin kissing my way down his chest, dipping my tongue into his belly button. By the time I'm licking at his dick, he's beginning to stir. Tiny little moans escape his throat and his hips thrust in little aborted movements. Wrapping my lips around the head, I slowly swallow him down.

"Mm, Master," he moans when I bury my nose in the hair at his groin. I hum in response, pleased he knows it's me and turn my attention to sucking his brains out through his dick. His hands come to rest on my head and his hips begin thrusting with more purpose. I relax my throat muscles and let him fuck my face and soon his breathing and hips stutter and then he's coming down my throat. I swallow all he has to give and hold his softening dick in my mouth until he pushes against my head.

I let him fall from my mouth and rest my chin on my hand on his lower belly. Looking up his body I can see a bit of blue peeking out from under his barely open lids. "Did you enjoy that?"

He grins sheepishly at me. "Why'd you do that?"

I shrug. "Why wouldn't I?" It's obvious he thinks he's not worthy of me giving him that kind of pleasure and it makes me want to bring that son of a bitch back to life just so I can kill him all over again, this time with my own two hands.

"Your pleasure, not mine."

I sigh. "How many times do I have to tell you that your pleasure fuels mine? And who's to say I didn't get pleasure out of that? And who are you to decide what I get pleasure from?"

"But-" he starts to protest but I talk over him.

"Ryan, I love you. Sucking your dick is just one way for me to show you that."

He turns his gaze to the ceiling. "You don't understand."

"Oh, but I do. I understand that that son of a bitch has you convinced that you're not worthy of anything and you're letting him override me." I rise up over him on my fists. "I am the only one you should be listening to and I say you are more than worthy." I lean down and suck on his tongue, knowing he can taste his lingering taste in my mouth but it's still not enough. It's still not exactly what I want. Maybe later today I'll be able to finally give him a proper taste. "God, you taste so fucking good," I murmur, nipping my way down his neck. "I want to fuck you again but I don't want to risk losing what's already in there." He blushes and looks away. It's obvious this is making him uncomfortable and so I let it go despite wanting to know why he's regressed.

I'm positive that if I lie here with him one moment longer, I'll give into temptation and fuck his pretty little ass. And while I do want to, I don't want to remove the plug and risk losing what I've already deposited inside. With a shove to his hip, I tell him, "Get up and get dressed."

I can see the questions in his eyes but he's a very good little submissive and keeps the words behind his teeth. He rolls from the bed and eyes me the whole time he's getting dressed in the clothes I had him wear the night before.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I beckon him forward, positioning him between my spread knees. Reaching up, I finger his left cheek, the one I slapped last night. "I am so sorry. I never want to hurt you like that. I never want to remind you of that bastard and how he treated you."

He takes my hand in his, cradling it against his cheek and kissing the palm. "You couldn't remind me of him if you tried, Master. You are the complete opposite of him."

"But I hit you. Just like you explained he used to hit you."

He shakes his head, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Not like he used to. He would hit me because he liked it. He liked hurting me but not the way you like hurting me. You hurt me to give me pleasure. He would hurt me to see me cry."

"But-" I have no idea how to convey to him how I'm feeling about that slap.

"It was one slap, Master. You were angry and reacted badly. I've seen you that angry before and you've never even once hinted that you might hit me. As far as I'm concerned, it never happened."

I cup my hand around the back of his head and pull him into a chaste kiss. "I'm even more convinced than ever now that I don't deserve you."

"Oh, but you do." He leans down and kisses me again. "Shall I assist you in getting dressed?"

The thought is highly arousing. "As much as I'd love that, if you do then we'll never leave this room." His face brightens at that. "And while that isn't a bad thing,-" I tap the end of his nose with one finger. "-I have plans for you and they don't include me bending you over ever flat surface in this room and fucking your brains out."

He pouts but I know it's mostly for show. "As you wish." He steps back and watches me get dressed in clothes similar to his, only not as tight.

Once fully dressed, I step closer to where he's standing still watching me hungrily. "You have got to stop looking at me like that."

He looks up at me from under his lashes and using his most seductive tone asks, "Like what, Master?"

"Little brat," I chastise with a chuckle. "You know exactly what you're doing. Who's in charge here?" He tilts his head and grins at me. "Don't answer that," I mutter and his grin widens into a smirk.

Reaching under my shirt collar, I pull the chain over my head and unlock the padlock on his collar. His breathing quickens and he stands taller, knowing exactly what I'm about to do. Pulling the collar tight, I relock it. He frowns at me when he realizes it's not as tight as it was before. "How many times am I going to have to tell you to stop doing something?" He lowers his gaze and chews on his lower lip. "I'm not making it as tight as before because your skin needs to heal and yet I find I need to have it locked tight." I lift his chin and place a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I don't like knowing I inadvertently hurt you."

When he makes eye contact I can see the slight fear that I'm thinking of pulling back on the Dominant/submissive aspect of our relationship. What he doesn't know is that I plan on taking it to the next level. He thinks we've been doing this as close to 24/7 as we can since we can't really at work, but we haven't. He's had a lot of freedom in our alone time but no more. Starting today everything he does has to be approved by me, first. Even when at work.

We don't talk the entire trip to the club and I can tell he's having difficulty not asking where we're going. When we pull up outside the club, I lean over and reward him with a kiss for his show of trust. "Do you have any idea how much you please me right now?"

"You say that a lot." He ducks his head and I can see a faint blush stain his cheek pink.

"Because it's true." I lean over and nibble on his ear lobe. "Continue being the good boy I know you are and you'll be greatly rewarded."

A shiver skates down his spine but before he can respond a valet opens my door. I get out and hand over the keys on my way into the club, knowing Baby Boy will follow.

The inside of this club isn't much different from Club Despot. The only real differences are in what the customers and employees wear. The customers are allowed to wear whatever they feel most comfortable in and the employees wear short skirts with a man's button down shirt unbuttoned and tied in a sailor's knot under their breasts for the women and low slung jeans and a bare-chest for the men.

Submissives are not usually leashed because all Dominants are expected to have their submissives extremely well trained so that a leash isn't necessary. Of course there are still some who prefer that obvious sign of ownership. Submissives are easily identifiable by the collars around their necks and the fact that they sit at the Dominant's feet.

Any submissive I bring here is required to hold onto either one of my belt loops or hook a finger or two into one of my back pockets. Baby Boy takes it a step further and shoves all four fingers into my right back pocket; palm side against the muscle. Without pausing, I reach back and turn his hand around so that the back of his fingers are brushing against my ass as I walk.

He makes a small noise of protest low in his throat and tugs just the tiniest bit to let me know his opinion of me turning his hand around. I smirk and begin plotting his punishment for thinking he has a say about this.

The past few days has brought home the fact that I've allowed him to become way too complacent as well as allowed him to think he can get away with these tiny rebellions.

While Club Despot was all about the Dominant's pleasure, Club Devine is all about the submissive's obedience. His training begins anew tonight.

I present our IDs to the beautiful young man behind the hostess desk. After getting our hands stamped just like the previous night, we're shown into the club proper.

The main room is spacious with a bar running the length of the left wall, a rather large dance floor in the middle of the room and several tables and booths sprinkled throughout the rest of the space. Upstairs in one corner is a Saint Andrew's Cross that is currently in use judging by the crowd I can see in that corner. In another upstairs corner is a lounge area that appears to be mostly empty which isn't unexpected if there's a submissive being whipped or flogged on the Cross. In yet another corner is an area where sex acts can be performed either with your submissive or your submissive and another Dominant or submissive. The fourth corner is for the owner's office.

I don't know the owner of this club like I do the owner of the one from last night so I head to one of the empty tables surrounding the dance floor. We haven't had anything to eat since sometime yesterday and I find I'm starving.

There are monitors scattered around the room that show the two main corners from upstairs. At the moment there's a very pretty Asian girl being whipped by her Mistress on the Cross. The submissive is crying and begging and by all appearances loving every single fucking second. The other corner is empty at the moment but then it is still rather early in the day.

"Good day, Master." A young woman who is not most people's idea of beautiful approaches our table. I happen to find her extremely attractive, but then I don't think I've ever met anyone I'd ever call ugly or even average looking.

"Good day," I return her greeting. "What's your name?"

"Julie," she tells the floor near where my Boy's kneeling.

"Julie." She nods. "Am I on the floor?"

"No, Master!" Her head snaps up but she still refuses to make eye contact.

"Have you been ordered to not look the Dominants in the eye?" She shakes her head. "Do you find me unattractive?"

"Of course not, Master!" In her shock at my suggestion she forgets herself and makes eye contact.

"Much better," I murmur, admiring the pretty amber color of her eyes. "I'd like a Coke and a glass of water and a double order of chili cheese nachos."

"Anything else?"

I shake my head. "Not at this time, no." She actually bobs a curtsey before turning and heading back toward the bar area.

Baby Boy has his head leaning against my leg and I can tell his eyes are glued to one of the monitors and the submissive being put through her paces. I thread my fingers in his hair and force him into an upright position. I sense more than see his confusion and I know I've made the correct decision about being tougher with him. When we're home alone he can be as familiar with me as I want him to be but in public he is not to take any kind of liberties without permission.

He snaps twice, his signal that he needs to say something or ask a question. "Do you need to pee?" He starts to shake his head 'no' but then changes his mind and nods 'yes'. "Alright. C'mon." I stand and begin making my way toward the single stall bathrooms located near the bar.

Once inside one with the door locked behind us, I push him face first against the wall, taking care to not make him think I'm angry because I'm not. I'm just disappointed.

"I've come to realize something over the past twenty-four hours. You have been given way too much leeway. You seem to think this is a game."

"No, Master, I don't!" he interrupts me.

"Did I give you permission to talk?" He shakes his head as best he can, considering I have my arm pressed against the back of his neck so that his cheek is squashed against the tiled wall. "No, I didn't. I also didn't give you leave to rest your head against my leg. Starting tonight I control everything about your life. I see now that I should have done that when I collared you but better late than never, I suppose." Stepping back, I let him go and when he turns the look in his eyes plainly says, 'What did I do wrong?' I reach out with one hand intent on stroking his cheek, then realize that I've been undermining myself by comforting him after a punishment. I drop my arm and turn away to take a piss.

Once done, I step aside and turn toward him. "Pee. Now." He just stares at me. "I'm serious, Baby Boy. From this moment on you're not allowed to even piss without my permission. Even when we're at work." His mouth drops open and I know he's wondering how that'll work when I'm in surgery or one or the other of us is off on a procurement. "I do believe I gave an order." I plant my feet and cross my arms over my chest. He takes a deep breath but does as ordered, stepping up to the toilet and emptying his bladder. "Good boy," I praise, reaching out to tug him closer so I can wash both our hands together.

"When we get home, we'll discuss how this'll work at work." I may be in complete control of his life but that doesn't mean I have to leave him totally in the dark. He nods to show he understands and follows me back to our table.

Once back at our table, I resume my seat and push him down to his knees. Unlike other clubs this one doesn't have padded flooring and I know his knees will not be thanking me later so I lean over to say in his ear, "You are allowed to sit however is most comfortable for you" knowing he'll know I mean when his knees start to hurt he can sit on his butt. He nods his head once in reply.

I sit back in my chair and stare down at his bowed head. It's almost like he's pouting and I can't for the life of me figure out why. I mean, I just told him that I'll be taking a more controlling interest in his life and he's acting like I said we're only going to play at this three times a week.

Feeling enough time has passed between when I scolded him and now that I can comfort him without undermining myself, I reach out one hand to run the fingers through his hair. A pleased smile crosses my face when he leans into my touch.

Julie has obviously been trained in how to move about without drawing attention to herself because my order appears on the table without my being completely aware of it. When I finally notice the dishes on the table, I'm pleased to note there's a straw in the glass of water.

Picking up the glass, I hold it out for him to take a sip. He seems surprised at the sight of the straw but recovers quickly and takes a sip. I take a sip of my beer and a bite of nachos before finding a chip with very little cheese and chili on it and offering it to him.

He takes the bite, being sure his lips don't touch my fingers. I lick the remaining cheese off my fingers before eating several more bites myself. I finish my beer and give him another sip of his water followed by another chip.

I wrinkle my nose while licking the cheese off this time, then make a decision. Picking the plate up off the table I set it before him. "I'm tired of licking the cheese and chili off my fingers so you can finish feeding yourself." He shoots me a startled look before settling on his ass with his legs crossed and wolfing down the remaining chips.

I watch fondly as he runs one finger around the edge of the plate, trying to collect the remaining chili and cheese on his finger and then suck it off. The sight of his lips wrapped around his finger has my blood heading straight to my dick and I want nothing more than to have him ride me, right here, right now. Since that's not allowed, I grab his shoulder and pull him up behind me, then head up the stairs, following the sound of animal hide striking human flesh.

There's a small crowd surrounding the Cross, watching appreciatively as the Domme works over her very pretty submissive. It's not the same couple as earlier and it's obvious they just got started so I begin asking to see if there's a list or something and find out there's no list but there is one couple waiting for the current couple to finish.

Realizing it'll be a bit yet before I can put Baby Boy through his paces, I find an empty chair and sit down, tugging him to his knees beside me.

The chair I'm sitting in is on the edge of the crowd but there's a monitor situated across from us showing the action going on in the center of the circle. I find my attention caught by my Boy's profile and so I can see his reaction to the girl getting flogged. His cheeks are flushed and his tongue peeks out to moist his bottom lip every so often and his breathing quickens as his arousal increases.

And as often happens, his arousal fuels mine and I find myself wanting to bury my erection in his mouth. I also find myself unable to stop touching him and run my fingers down his cheek and up over his ear. He shivers at the barely there touches and clenches his fists at his side. A smug grin crosses my face at the fact that my touch has this kind of effect on him.

Opening my pants with one hand, I grasp the back of his neck and pull him around to kneel in front of me, saying, "Take care of this for me" while pushing him down on my dick. He, of course, goes very willingly. Sometimes I wonder if he lives to suck my cock or if he just enjoys giving me this pleasure.

When his nose touches my lower abdomen I hold him there for a slow count of ten then release him. He doesn't pull up right away, instead just swallows around me for another few seconds. "Make it good, but not too good. I don't want to come down your fucking throat. Not yet anyway." It's an order I've given him a few times in the past and I know he knows I'm giving him free rein to suck me however he wants. I also know that he can spend hours teasing the shit outta me and while that's not what I'm going for here, I do want him to make it last at least until it's our turn.

And of course Baby Boy doesn't disappoint me. He sucks my dick like it's a lollipop before pulling off to lick up the length, swirling his tongue around the head before dipping the tip into the piss slit. I slouch a bit more in the chair, spreading my legs wider to give him more room and prop my head on one hand, the other clutching the arm of my chair so that I don't give in and force him to just suck it.

My gaze is snagged by his and I can't help but smile at the arrogance in his at the fact that he can actually bring me to my knees with that sweet mouth of his. Times like this I don't mind if he's a tad bit conceited because it's always well-deserved.

He holds my gaze until he runs the flat of his tongue down my dick to my balls. Sucking first one, then the other into his mouth, his eyes flutter shut with a moan of pleasure. The sound has my cock twitching and my breathing speeding up.

Being careful to not touch my skin, he tucks my boxers under my balls so he can have better access to them and then sucks and licks them like they're candy. He even manages to get his tongue behind them, somewhat, so he can lick at my perineum. My head falls back with a groan, my eyes slide close and the sound of a whip striking flesh has me thinking back to when I flogged Baby Boy for the first and, currently, only time.

It was a couple of weeks after I first took him. I'd had a very good day and couldn't keep my hands off him when he followed me into my hotel room.

Before the door even closed, I had stripped him of his clothes and had him pinned to the wall next to the door. I sucked a hickey to his right nipple, knowing how much it makes him squirm. By the time the bruise was to my liking, he was beginning to sweat and was panting hard and his pupils were blown wide with desire. I was so tempted to fuck him right there but I wanted to reward myself for a good day so I reluctantly pulled back.

He had pouted but I'd put a stop to that right quick and pulled him along behind me into the bedroom. I knew he had next to no experience with what I wanted but he is always willing to let me show him things, knowing if he doesn't get the same pleasure out of it that I do, we won't ever do it again.

Only thing I hate about living at the hotel is I don't have all of my equipment and I can't attach hooks to the ceiling. But I'm very resourceful and make do with what I've got.

I positioned him the way I wanted against the wall: standing up straight with his feet shoulder width apart and his arms stretched out at shoulder height with his elbows slightly bent and his palms braced flat against the wall.

After getting his assurances that he wouldn't move until I told him, I picked up the flogger I'd had made special several years ago. I trailed the tails over the smooth skin of his back and made him recite the rules and his safeword, then I let fly with the first stroke.

In deference of his non-experience, I kept that first strike light. He gasped and flinched just a bit, more like his left elbow giving way and his shoulder slamming into the wall, but he recovered quickly and was standing in the position I'd requested before I could really register that he'd moved. And it pleased me, his desire to do as I required and hold himself still while I flogged him.

After that first one, I slowly increased the strength, knowing he wouldn't be able to take one at full-force, yet, but needing to test his limit. What I discovered was amazing. He took everything I gave and demanded more. I had to force myself to stop after thirty and not because I wanted to, but because blood could be seen on the last couple of welts because I got carried away and wasn't aiming as well as I should have and so too many landed in the same spot.

I have never made a submissive bleed while flogging for pleasure and I wasn't about to start now. He whimpered when I stopped but hushed when told to. The sex afterward was the best we'd ever had, until last night when I Claimed his ass.

A sharp pain in my groin brings me back to the present and the boy sucking my dick like his life depends on it. His eyes are open and with a look of apology in them so I determine the pain was unintentional. He sometimes gets so carried away that he forgets and scrapes his teeth or bites down at the wrong time. I smile to show I'm not angry and reach out to run one thumb along his eyebrow.

A quick look at the monitor shows a huge white man strapped to the Cross and being worked over by his much smaller black Dominant. Judging by the welts on the man's back and the faint sheen of sweat on both men, I'd say it's almost our turn so I push Baby Boy off and stand, doing up my fly while walking over to the club employee overseeing the proceedings.

"Excuse me?" I call, gaining her attention.

The look she turns on me would have a submissive, and some Dominants, on their knees but then she seems to realize that I'm not a threat and she smiles thinly at me. "You are the Dom who wants next go." The woman has an impressive memory seeing as it's been several minutes since I first inquired about that and I never actually spoke to her about it.

"Yes, I am." She raises her brows to encourage me to get on with the reason I interrupted her viewing pleasure of the two currently using the Cross. "I prefer to have my submissive hanging when I flog him." She points at the ceiling where two cuffs are attached to a chain. "Sorry. I always forget to look up."

She chuckles. "No worries. Not many of our Dominants use it; they seem to prefer the Cross for some reason. When it is your turn the chain will be lowered for you to tie up your submissive then raised to your preferred height."

I nod and motion Baby Boy to my side while the pair at the Cross end their scene. "Is that your submissive?" she asks. I can only grin with pride and nod my head. "He is exquisite. How much?"

I turn and frown at her. I've never had anyone offer to buy a submissive off me before. "He's not for sale. Nor is he for rent. He belongs to me and me alone."

She pouts and huffs. "Shame. He would look so very pretty fucking my submissive. She has never been with a man."

"Yes, well, I find I am extremely possessive of this one."

I can't help but undress him with my eyes the whole time he's walking toward us. When he gets close enough I can see the slight flush on his cheeks which I chose to attribute to his arousal. Stopping in front of where I'm standing, he slides smoothly to his knees and kisses one foot before doing the same of the woman I'm standing next to. "So very well trained," she murmurs. "Are you sure you won't loan him to me for just one night?"

He tenses where he's still kneeling with his head on my foot. "Very. I do not share. Ever." Reaching down, I assist him in standing. "Remove your shirt and socks and shoes."

He quickly complies, toeing off his shoes and socks first and then tugging his shirt up over his head. The crowd murmurs appreciatively at the sight of his toned and tanned body. A fierce hiss of "Mine" echoes through my head at every eye that's trained on him.

The chain lowers between us and I begin buckling him into the cuffs, keeping my eyes locked with his. "Are you sure about this?" It's a question I ask every time I flog a submissive. Not everyone can stand to be flogged and I want to make sure the consensual part of safe, sane and consensual is being met.

He nods. "Good," I murmur, then motion for the chain to be raised until he's balanced on the balls of his feet. Then I mentally smack my forehead: I left my flogger in the hotel room. "Do you provide equipment?" I turn back to the Domme in charge.

"Of course." She waves to her left and a table covered with floggers and whips of all shapes and sizes still in their protective wrapping.

"Nice that you have new ones available."

"For sale, actually. It will be added to your tab for the evening."

Of course it will. I look over the options available and spy one that is extremely close to the one I have at home. I pick it up and remove it from its packaging. Swinging it a couple of times in a circle, I test the weight and then smack it against my leg. Baby Boy's panting hard enough that I'm afraid he's going to hyperventilate. "Easy," I sooth, rubbing one hand low on his belly above the waist band of his jeans. "What are the rules?"

He swallows and licks his lips, flicking tiny glances down at the flogger in my hand. "One, I'm to call you 'Master'. Two, no talking without permission. Three, no touching without permission. Four, obey all commands immediately or suffer punishment. Five, my safeword is 'SpongeBob'."

I grin to let him know how pleased I am that he was able to recite the rules without hesitation in front of strangers. "Very good, Baby Boy." Stepping behind him, I trail the ends of the flogger over the beautiful expanse of his back. "We're going to be pushing your limits tonight, Boy. Remember, you can stop this any time you want."

He nods and adjusts his position so that he's gripping the chains linking the cuffs to the main chain in his hands and then a shudder passes through his body as he takes one more step down into his headspace. And that's my cue to let fly and I don't hesitate. I stop after the first strike, just like last time. Only this time it's to see just where he is.

I step closer and press two fingers against the angry welt that has appeared on his skin. "How does that feel?"

His breath hitches in his chest and for a moment I think he might not be capable of speech but then he answers with, "Fucking incredible, Master."

"How so?"

"I don't understand the question."

"Explain your answer."

He shakes his head. "I can't."

I press harder on the welt pulling a wince from him. "Can't or won't?" I snarl in his ear.

"C-can't, M-master." Well, this is an interesting development. I have never made a submissive stutter after just one strike of the flogger, before.

"Why not?"

He shakes his head again, harder as if trying to clear it. "Just can't. If you've never been flogged it's not something that can be explained."

And damn if he isn't right. Flogging is something that has to be experienced to understand. "So very glad you like it," I purr in his ear causing him to shiver in response. "Keep being the good boy I know you are and you'll be greatly rewarded later."

He nods his head and murmurs, "Yes, Master." His tone makes me think he just might be getting tired of hearing me promise a great reward for his obedience especially when he obeys me already.

More determined than ever to break him apart, I step back and let fly with my second strike. By the time I've landed a total of ten strikes, he's jerking in his restraints and beginning to sweat. Stepping close, again, I press against the strike I just landed, smirking at the hiss that escapes. "What's your safeword?"

"S-spongeB-bob." I can tell he has his teeth clenches and that just won't do.

"Do you need to stop?" Being flogged while standing and leaning against the wall is totally different from being flogged while being suspended by your wrists. He shakes his head. "What do you need?"

"W-water." And just like that, there's a glass of ice water in my hand. I think we'll be coming back to this club.

I help him take a sip of water, after taking one myself, then fish out an ice cube and feed it to him. He has his head resting on his right bicep and his eyes are heavy-lidded as he rolls the ice around in his mouth, wetting his tongue and throat.

The need to touch him returns and I find myself running one finger along one of his eyebrows, our audience totally forgotten in the face of the trust this beautiful young man has placed in me. A trust I'm still not so sure I deserve but that I plan on spending the rest of my life treating like the great gift it is. "Ready to continue?" He nods and smiles at me and I just have to press my lips to his for a second or two before stepping back around behind him.

By the time I reach twenty strikes, I've removed my own shirt. This time when I pause to gauge where he is, I inspect the welts and notice that I've landed too many in the same spot. Making a mental note to aim for a different spot, I ask the same questions as before.

"What's your safeword?" He doesn't answer right away and then clears his throat and answers, "SpongeBob" his voice is rough like he's been trying to not scream. And that's when I remember I want him to scream. I want him to scream as loud as he can, something that he can't do at home.

"Have you been holding back your screams?" He nods. "Don't." I turn and look at the Domme watching over us. "Screaming's allowed, right?" She rolls her eyes and nods. "As loud as you want, Baby Boy," I whisper in his ear before offering him some water.

The next ten are harder on me than him, I think, because I've never made him scream like this before. The scream that leaves his throat on the first strike of this set has me afraid I've seriously hurt him and so I stop, frantically demanding to know if he's hurt. He reassures me he's fine and reminds me I demanded he scream as loud as he wants. I chuckle at myself and resume putting him through his paces, feeling myself settle into my own headspace even more with each swing of my arm and every pleasured scream from his throat.

This time when I pause to gauge where he is, I press my sweat slicked chest against his welt covered back, he gasps and tries to flinch away but I hold him fast with my left hand splayed wide on his lower abdomen.

After going through the usual questions, I assist him in drinking most of a glass of ice water, then fish a cube out to feed to him and another to run over the welts on his back. He whimpers at the feel of the cold ice on his heated and abused flesh. "Still with me?"

"Always, Master," he breathes.

I can tell he's getting tired. When we first started, he was holding himself up on his toes, taking the pressure off his shoulders and wrists but now, he's slumped in his bonds and I know I'm going to have to tend to not only his back but his wrists tomorrow. I'm now very glad that Sophia was willing to give us two days in a row off because he's going to need the rest of today and all of tomorrow to be able to move without crying out in pain.

Once the ice cube in my hand is completely melted I take up the flogger for the final set of ten. I trail the ends over the welts I've already placed on him and then over the nearly untouched skin just above his kidneys. I'd never hit him directly over them, too delicate, but the area just above that could stand to have ten bright red welts

My decision made, I draw back my arm and land the first exactly where I want. The following nine land in almost the exact same spot, with only minute adjustments to prevent skin breakage, and then I'm done. I've flogged my beautiful Baby Boy forty times and watched him fall apart a bit more with each strike of the flogger against his skin and now it's time to take him home and put him back together again.

The crowd stands in stunned silence when I finally drop my arm and begin examining the welts to make sure there's no permanent damage. Satisfied there is none, I step around in front of him.

He's hanging loosely in his bonds, his hands fisted white-knuckle on the chains with his head resting on his right arm and his chest is heaving as he gulps in huge lungfuls of air. But his eyes his eyes catch and hold my attention because they're extremely heavy-lidded and there's a soul-deep satisfaction in them that I've never seen in anyone's before. I only recognize it because it calls out to my own. It calls out to the satisfied Dominant inside me and has him howling his pleasure at being able to bring his Boy this deep; at knowing that our souls have communed together here today and that we will always have this moment; this bond that runs soul deep.

"Gonna release you now. Can you stand on your own?" He nods and shifts until he's taken most of the pressure off his cuffed writs and I motion for the chain to be slowly lowered. "We're gonna go slow. Tell me if there's any pain." One eyebrow quirks toward his sweat soaked hair and I chuckle. "Any pain in relation to lowering your arms. It has been nearly forty minutes."

He blinks and I take that as his affirmative response. The instant the chain is lowered enough for him to stand flat-footed again, he stumbles a bit and I wrap my arms around his waist to help him regain his balance. He sags in my arms for a moment, soaking up the full-body contact before recalling our audience and standing upright again. When the chain has lowered enough for him to start lowering his arms, I begin massaging his shoulders, hoping to stave off any pain. He winces at the first touch of my fingers to his flesh. My gaze snaps to his and I keep one eye on his response while helping him lower his arms so I can undo the cuffs.

After removing the cuffs, I lightly kiss the abused skin of his wrists. He releases a soft breath so I look up and find my gaze snagged by the love shinning in his. Stepping closer, I tuck one hand in one of his back pockets. "Say it," I order gently.

His whole face softens and he whispers, "I love you, Master" so sweetly I give in to the urge to claim that mouth and sweep the warm wet depths with my tongue, leaving no one in attendance in any doubt as to who this gorgeous young man belongs to.

As usual, he responds so readily to me that I know if we were alone I'd be fucking his pretty ass right now. "Let's go home so I can reward you properly," I say against his lips. His breath hitches at the thought of what that could mean and I give him my most evil smile.

After getting him back in his shirt and socks and shoes, I approach the Domme in charge and hand her my credit card. "Just the flogger?"

"No, I also had a beer and a double order of chili cheese nachos."

She taps some keys on a tablet computer on the table next to her. "Who was your server?"

"Julie. I'd like to give her a ten percent tip."

She smiles up at me. "Of course." She swipes my card, tears off the receipt that prints and hands me my card back. I swiftly sign my name and push the paper across the table. "We thank you,-" She glances at the name on the receipt. "-Master Yablonski."

"The pleasure was all mine." I bob my head in acknowledgement.

"Oh, I think we-" She twirls her hand in a circle. "-got some pleasure out of that performance."

I smile my thanks and lead Baby Boy back down the stairs and out of the club. While waiting for the valet to bring my car around, I find I can't keep my hands to myself, despite the very public street we're standing on, and so tuck two fingers into one of his front pockets so I can tug him closer and nuzzle my way under his chin where I suck a bruise in a spot that'll be mostly hidden.

The drive home is just as quiet as the drive to the club earlier in the evening had been. Still not able to stop touching him, I reach over and take one of his hands in one of mine and pull it into my lap where I curl his fingers around the bulge in my jeans. "That's what seeing you fall apart does to me." I squeeze myself with his hand. "It was so beautiful, the way you just stood there and took it, slowly coming apart at my command."

He tries to tug his hand from my grasp and I tighten my hold, turning to frown at where he's staring at his hand in my lap. He raises anguished eyes to mine and pleads, "Please, Master."

"I want you to touch me, Baby Boy. Why does this distress you?"

"Not-" He swallows, then opens his mouth but closes it when nothing comes out and shakes his head. "Please," he begs again and that's when I realize he's trying to undo my pants.

I laugh out loud. "Oh, Baby Boy," I murmur, assisting him in undoing the fly on my jeans so he can tug my dick out. The sigh he gives when his hand comes into contact with my skin has me twitching in his grip. He then begins to fumble with his seatbelt. "Oh, no, you don't," I warn, ignoring his whimper. "It's not safe. Jack me instead, if you must."

I've never let him masturbate me. In fact, I've never really let him touch my cock before. I've never asked if Sir ever did, and, frankly, I don't care. I need some relief right now and since he can't suck me or ride me, I'll have to let him jack me.

It quickly becomes obvious that he's paid attention to how I stroke myself the few times I've jacked off over his body because he has me coming apart at the first red light we stop at. I turn my head and watch him lick my come off his fingers, a self-satisfied smirk firmly in place and I don't even attempt to stop the loud guffaws that bubble up my throat at the mental image I now have of him as the cat that ate the canary.

Once back home and in our room, I take his chin in my hand and place a gentle kiss to his lips. "Still flying high?" He nods and the drowsy look in his eyes supports it. "Get undressed, then lie down on the bed on your stomach, I need to treat your back."

I have to stop him when he goes to pull his shirt off like normal. "Easy. I may not have put salve on the welts so your shirt will be easy to remove, but you did bleed a little and those will have started to clot."

He turns so I can gently peel the cotton of his shirt away from the few spots of blood that can be seen on the white material before slowly lifting it over his head and off his arms. "Put stain remover on that before you toss it in the hamper." I drop the thin shirt into his hands and remind him I gave him an order already with a sharp slap to his ass.

With a yelp and a jump out of reach, he heads toward the bathroom to do what I told him to. Knowing it'll take him a bit longer than usual due to the bruising on his back as well as having to put stain remover on his shirt, I set about making sure the room is secure and turning off lights before joining him.

Kicking my shoes off near the door next to his, I turn and enter the bedroom, pausing to gaze at the sight of him lounging on my bed naked as the day he was born, his head pillowed on his arms and his face tucked into one elbow. The gentle rise and fall of his back tells me he's already dozing. It has been an emotionally trying couple of days so I decide to let him nap a bit longer while I get the supplies ready.

On a towel on the bed next to his right hip, I place a tube of triple antibiotic ointment, some betadine wash, gauze and tape. A bowl with lukewarm water is place on the bedside table to avoid it spilling. Slipping my hands into a pair of gloves, I climb onto the bed and straddle his hips, then lean down and nuzzle him awake.

"Mm," he groans, shrugging his right shoulder in an attempt to forestall my actions. "'M sleeping," he mumbles, tucking his head further into his elbow.

"And now you're not," I reply, biting his earlobe. He huffs out a sigh but removes his head from his elbow and opens his eyes, looking at me from the corner of one. "Hi." I smile at him. He closes his eyes and smiles back. "Nuh-uh." I poke him in the shoulder. "I need you awake." He blinks his eyes open and yawns. I can tell he's trying to keep his eyes open but they refuse to open past half-mast and I decide that's good enough. Not like I actually need him to do anything too terribly complicated right now. "I do apologize but this is gonna hurt." He nods his understanding and settles deeper into the mattress.

With a kiss to the knot of bone at the top of his spine, I pick up a gauze pad and lean up to dip the gauze in the water before sitting back on my heels and picking up the betadine. I squeeze some on to the small square and rub it to get a lather going then begin to, as gently as possible, wash his back.

When he hisses at the first touch of the betadine solution, I have to keep reminding myself that I need to do this. As his Dominant it's my job to provide the aftercare he needs after a scene, especially when I break the skin. By the time I'm done, he's whimpering softly, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"I'm sorry, Baby Boy. I know it hurts but we don't want it to get infected, do we?" I lean down to kiss his cheek and silently curse myself at the tear tracks I can see.

The antibiotic has a slight pain reliever in it which is why I use it. Applying it is, luckily, not as painful as cleaning his back but even so, he's still whimpering low in his throat by the time I'm done.

"Almost finished, Baby Boy." I place another kiss to the back of his neck, adding a hint of teeth this time. "You're doing so good. Just a bit more. Okay?" He nods and makes a noise of agreement in his throat, his bottom lip caught tight in his teeth.

I quickly put strips of gauze over his ointment covered back and lightly tape them down. I don't expect him to lie on his back tonight but incase he rolls over I don't want the sheets to get messed up by the ointment.

I then repeat the process on his wrists. Luckily they're not as bad as his back but still bad enough that he's going to have to be very careful his sleeves don't ride up too much for the next several days until the bruising goes away.

Done treating his wounds, I clean up and carry all the supplies into the bathroom where I empty my bladder before opening the medicine cabinet and removing the bottle of acetaminophen. I shake a couple into my hand and fill a glass with water and then carry it all back into the bedroom where I find him dozing again.

"Seriously? What's it gonna take for you to stay awake until I allow you to sleep?"

He cracks one eye open and peers up at me. "Sorry?" His tone implies he is anything but and, really, after all I've put him through in the last twenty-four hours I can't say I blame him.

"Hm," I hum, motioning for him to sit up. "Take these." I hand him the tablets and the glass of water. I can see the smart remark about 'take two and call me in the morning' hovering on his lips but he just grins at me and does as told before laying back down.

"I'm not even close to being done with you, yet, Boy," I lean down and growl into his ear. His eyes pop open at that and I know he's remembering the plug I put in him after finally Claiming his ass. "Spread 'em." I tap the inside of his right thigh and he complies instantly. "Hold yourself open for me." I move his hands to show him exactly what I want him to do.

I then stand there and just look at him. Just look at how gorgeous he is lying there on my bed holding his ass open so I can see the plug buried deep inside. Looking at him like that I decide I need some more pictures and so pick up the camera and snap a few of his plugged hole and up to his gauze covered back. I have a moment's regret that I didn't get some pictures of his back before I covered it in ointment and gauze. Of course it'll be at its prettiest tomorrow when it starts to bruise so I make a mental note to take some pictures then.

Having decided I've taken enough pictures, I put the camera down and reach out and begin to tease him with the plug; twisting it and fucking him a bit. Even pulling it out a little and letting his sphincter pull it back in. I tease him for several minutes, until he begins raising his hips to meet each thrust of the plug, then pull it out. He gasps and his anus spasms as it tries to close after several hours of being held open.

I want to be buried in that ass and he deserves a huge reward for how perfectly he came apart for me. "Sit up." I undo the fly of my jeans and pull my half-hard dick out. Then I sit down on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "Okay, your reward." I motion to my lap.

His brows lower over his nose for a few seconds and he looks from my face to my lap and back. I can practically see the light bulb go off in his brain when he figures out that I want him to ride me. The grin I get just before he scrambles over to straddle my lap is blinding.

With one hand to his hip and the other around me, I help him take me in until he's nestled in my lap. "Ride me," I whisper, pressing a light kiss to his lips. "However you want. You may come when you want and you can touch me."

He doesn't waste any time, instantly slipping his hands under my shirt and flattening his palms on my abdomen before slowly trailing them up my torso, my shirt bunching on his wrists. When he reaches my armpits, he flips his hands over and tugs my shirt over my head, tossing it behind him.

He manages to surprise me by not immediately beginning to fuck himself, instead seemingly enthralled by the expanse of skin on display before him. Leaning down, he places gentle kisses down my throat, across my clavicle and down my chest. He seems fascinated by the hair peppering my upper body, running his fingers through it, twirling some around a finger, parting it in the search for a nipple.

When he uncovers my right nipple he spends a couple of seconds thumbing it, intently watching its reaction to his touch. His curiosity satisfied, he leans down and blows warm air on it, again watching its reaction. He looks up and meets my eyes and I know what he's doing. He's seeing if my reactions are similar to his since he's only ever been on the receiving end. I nod my encouragement to get him back to what he was doing.

Baby Boy is one hell of a quick study, as I soon find out when he leans down and first licks, then suckles my nipple. I fist my hands in the sheets instead of around his hips so as to not scare him off. I want him to explore to his little heart's content since I'm the only person he's ever going to have sex with ever again and he won't get this chance very often.

My hips jerk with he gently bites my nipple, causing him to bite harder and pulling a moan from deep in my throat. He sits back and stares at me for half a minute, a thoughtful look on his face and then goes back to slowly torturing me with his lips, tongue and teeth.

Having discovered I love having my nipples bitten, he experiments to see which I like best: soft or hard or somewhere in-between and finds out that it's all good, but the harder the better.

After what feels like a year, but is most likely just ten minutes, he decides my right nipple has had enough attention and turns to my left; and proceeds to treat it to the exact same thing.

Sitting here and letting him play with my body reminds me of when I was learning how to be a Dominant. The Domme who trained me believes that the best Dominants have been a submissive for a least a short time. After all, how can you know how to gauge someone's limits if you don't know where yours are? I was her submissive for almost two years before I found an older woman who called to the Dominant in me and she let me go. I had forgotten just how difficult it is to sit still and let someone else control when you get to the fucking. I also forgot how great this kind of exploratory foreplay is.

That being said, by the time he's done playing with my nipples, I'm really close to grabbing his hips and slamming up into him until I see stars. The fact that this is his reward is the only thing staying my hand.

He places both hands on my shoulders and leans forward to press his lips to mine. I can't resist the temptation and open my mouth, sliding my tongue along his bottom lip. He instantly parts his lips and we engage in a lazy bout of tongue dueling for several minutes.

When he finally begins to move, I take hold of his hips to help him with his balance. After the way he explored my chest, I fully expect him to take his time fucking himself on my dick and he does. First he grinds down against the cradle of my hips, moaning at how deep he can take me. Then he swivels his hips, slowly, clockwise and then just as slowly counter-clockwise. And then in a figure eight from my left to my right and then a figure eight from my right to my left, then he alternates it all, leaving me gasping for air and wondering which way is up.

The head of his dick rubs against my stomach with each of his moves, leaving a trail of precome behind. When he begins to bounce in my lap, it catches on my navel and it has him panting, "Oh, oh, oh" each time it does.

Slowly his bounces get faster and harder and eventually he's practically standing up on his knees on the upward bounce and I'm in real danger of falling out. Only my hands on his hips is keeping him from getting too carried away.

By the time our hair is plastered to our skulls with sweat, he's begging, "Please, oh, please." I'm not positive what he's begging for, since I gave him free rein, but I take him in hand and the wail that escapes his throat tells me that was the right thing to do.

I don't have the energy to stroke him so I just make a fist and let him fuck it, occasionally rubbing my thumb against the head when it pops through the top. He has his head thrown back and he's fucking himself frantically and I can tell it's just not enough so I walk the fingers of my left hand slowly up his back to his neck and urge him to lift his head.

When he does, the look in his eyes has my orgasm rolling over me like a tidal wave but I spare half a brain cell to pull his head to me so I can tug on his bottom lip with my teeth. Releasing it, I say against his lips, "Now, Ryan. Come now."

His head snaps back so hard, I feel a sympathetic twinge in my neck and he begins to spurt all over my abdomen and fist before collapsing forward on my chest, panting hot breaths on my sweat slicked skin.

I lean my head back and pant up at the ceiling, fighting the heaviness that always attacks after a great fuck session because we have to get cleaned up before we can go to sleep. But I figure it won't hurt to wait until I can move without feeling like I'm under water and so I cuddle him closer, tucking his head under my chin. I'm so attuned to him that I know the instant he falls asleep. I can't keep the fond smile off my face when he goes completely boneless much like a small child would.

Moving slowly so as not to wake him, I stand from the bed and lay him down on his stomach, then pad into the bathroom to take a quick shower, then wet a washcloth to use on him before tucking him under the covers.

When I join him a few minutes later, I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. It feels good to stop fighting it and just let sleep take me.