《Call me kitten (boyxboy love) ✓》41. The art of counting (NSFW)

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This chapter contains some knife play, some blood play, impact play

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Ash grabbed the handle to the door, and I braced myself for what I would see. But as I looked inside, I was perplexed. No people, no music, just a small room with a girl sitting behind a counter and another door next to her. Was this some kind of security check? I glanced at Ash for some form of answer, but he just paid an entry fee and was handed a key by the girl.

"What's the key for?" I whispered as he walked towards the other door.

"Locker room locker," he grinned and held up the door for me.

"What?" I said in confusion, but then I saw the other room.

It was a downright locker room, similar to the ones in high school. There was no chance that Ash would change into some other clothes, so I guessed the one doing it would have to be me. A nightmarish thought of Ash pulling out a pink tutu from his bag came before me. How undressed was I supposed to be? Ash was fully dressed. Or was I supposed to be completely naked? I had told him that I didn't want to do anything in front of complete strangers in public. The question was if this counted as public or not. I felt like a complete fool as I stood beside him next to the locker that apparently was ours.

Ash had opened his bag and handed me a small piece of fabric. Embarrassed I looked at it, a pair of tight black boxers in what appeared to be silk. My cheeks stung. Was this it?

"Want me to help you?" Ash offered and looked questionably at me as he continued rummaging through his bag.

I eyed the tiny piece of clothing in my hand, took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I would just do it. Just put them on and see where this evening led me. Slowly I removed my t-shirt and jeans and answered him confidently that I could manage to dress myself.

"Are you sure you don't want my help?"

"Christ, I can dress–"

The words caught in my mouth as I looked up at him. He had fastened the riding crop and the paddle to his belt, the blindfold was tucked in his breast pocket and on his hands were thin leather gloves. His eyes had a scorching glow, and he cocked his head. The twinge rushing through me was so intense that I had to gulp for air. Fuck, he was so sexy that I wanted to lick him whole. My mind just warped as I stood there in my tight underwear, being watched by him. He held my chin with his leather clad fingers.

"Only one thing left," he said calmly. "Stay still."

Out of his bag he pulled something that looked like leather straps. His touch when he methodically started to wrap the straps around my torso made my breath quicken, the feeling of his fingertips, the cool sensation of the leather against my skin. It was possessive, domineering and I enjoyed every single pull he made as he adjusted the harness. It went over my back in a cross on my chest, ending with a large metal ring in the middle. Wearing it did something to me, I didn't know what, but it made my cock twitch under the silken fabric of the boxers. Ash grabbed hold of the ring and pulled me close, letting a finger glide along my throat.

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"Does my kitten like his harness?" he purred.

"Mmh..." I breathed, not quite able to articulate.

"Good, then we're ready."

He moved his grip to the straps on my back and gently pushed me towards the door on the opposite side of the locker room. My mind swayed as we finally entered what was the real club. The music was low and suggestive, there were maybe ten people in the large room and probably more behind the doors that were labeled 'private session'. Sounds of whippings and moaning came at regular intervals and my pulse started racing. This was the real thing.

It wasn't at all as it had been at Florian's house, there it had felt like performances for an audience. Here everyone was in their own private worlds just focusing on their partners and only a few people watched. My gaze was immediately drawn to a woman on a cross. Her body was riddled with thin red lines made by a knife that a masked man held in his hand. My skin tingled by the mere sight of the blade. Ash placed his hand on the small of my back.

"Wanna watch some?" he whispered in my ear, and I nodded. "Then I want you on your knees in front of me."

I woke up a little and eyed him in surprise, but he just pointed to the floor at his feet. I sank down at once, with my back to him and he stood just behind me and placed his hand on top of my head, softly digging his fingers through my hair. The act was so simple, but the meaning of it made my insides shake with desire. I was his. I belonged to him and him alone.

The man with the mask whispered something to the woman and the long blade of the knife gleamed in the light as he slid it across her collarbone. Hypnotized I watched the red trail form on her skin, almost lured to the surface by the knife until it stopped at the breastbone. The blade pushed down harder against the skin until a small drop of blood appeared, and I drew in a slow breath.

My body buzzed. The man lifted the edge of the knife and pressed the tip down an inch from the first wound and another tiny droplet formed. After a while the woman had a ring of red drops at the center of her chest, and I was transfixed. Unable to look away.

Ash gently pressed my head backwards somewhat and I could feel his hardening cock rub against the back of my head. Desire shot through me like fire, and I had a hard time sitting still, a low moan escaping my lips. I was torn. I wanted to stay seated and watch the scene in front of me. But I also wanted to just turn around and rip his pants off with my teeth. He chose for me by pulling me up to my feet by my harness.

"Enough looking for you, I think," he smiled and steered me towards one of the open doors. "I hope you remember that I'm gonna teach you a lesson?"

I had completely forgotten about that. The scene with the knife had effectively shut my brain off and suddenly I was wide awake again. Did he want to punish me for real? I couldn't read his smooth voice, but just the knowledge that he had both the crop and the paddle made my skin prickle in terrified anticipation.

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The room was small, with just a form of steel frame and a couch and when he shut the door, he turned to me smiling. I watched him carefully, trying to decipher him.

"I just forgot," I blurted out.

He seized my wrist hard and led me to the steel frame.

"Yeah, you told me," he said calmly and fastened my wrist in one of the cuffs that were welded onto the frame. "And what did I say to that?"

"That I wouldn't forget next time," I mumbled, and anxiety nagged in my stomach as he imprisoned my other wrist and walked behind my back.

"Exactly. Spread your legs."

I peeked behind me and caught a glimpse of a steel pipe in his hand. What the hell was he doing? Now worry gripped me for real and frantically I tried to look behind my back.

"Ash, what are you up to?"

He was in front of me in one second and the slap unexpectedly stung my cheek.

"Do as you're told."

Startled, I obeyed in an instant and stared down to see what he did. The pipe had cuffs as well and he secured them around my ankles, with the steel pipe between my legs, forcing me to spread my legs apart. I was completely immobilized. He came up in front of me again and caressed my burning cheek and watched me with calm eyes.

"The safewords are still in play," he said gently. "Remember that."

But no matter how much my worry flew around in my body I didn't want to stop. I was exposed, humiliated by the slap but I wanted to go on. Because paradoxically I also felt so completely safe.

"I know," I said and met his eyes with a steady gaze.

Something odd glinted in his eyes and I couldn't understand what it was. But it went straight into my heart. He took something out of his pocket and the click of the stiletto made me wince.

"I was planning of using this tonight," he said and put the tip of his index finger on the edge of the blade. "But we'll see. It depends on how well you take your punishment."

To my big disappointment he folded the knife again and put it back in his pocket. Instead, he loosened the paddle from his belt and grinned wickedly.

"How many blows from this do you think you can handle?"

I hadn't the faintest idea. By the feeling in my palm before I could take quite a few, but he had said that the palm wasn't the same thing.

"Ten?" I said, unsure.

"Ten? Do you call that a punishment?"

"Twenty."

He laughed and went behind my back, pulling down my boxers.

"I find it interesting that you actually believe that I would let you choose how many blows you'll get. I want you to count them."

He caressed the paddle lightly across my butt cheeks and I breathed out hard through my nose and braced myself. When the blow came, all air was pushed out of my lungs. The scorching pain spread across my whole ass, sharp at first and then throbbing and hot. Ash had been right, my palm was fucking child's play compared to this.

"One..." I grunted.

I heard the whoosh through the air before the next blow hit, just as brutally hard as the first one and I panted.

"Two..."

"Bear in mind that you were the one who wanted to buy this."

Ash's voice was amused, and I clenched my teeth as the paddle hit me again.

"T-three..."

It was like my ass was on fire and the blows just kept coming. Desperately I tried to keep count but eventually everything just went blank in my head, the only thing still in existence was pain and that feeling of floating away in my mind. Tears trickled down my cheeks, dripping down on my chest and I just groaned a random number.

"Wrong," I heard Ash say and I squeezed my eyes shut. "Shall we take it from the top again?"

"N-no, no, please..." I whimpered and tried instinctively to turn around.

But the paddle whizzed through the air again.

"Start counting," he ordered, his voice stern.

I stifled a sob that came out of nowhere.

"One... please, no more."

Whack!

Jesus, make it stop.

"T-two... I-I can't..."

Whack!

"Three, f-fuck, I'm begging you..."

"Mm... hearing you plead like that just makes me wanna continue, kitten," he cooed. "But I wanna see your face now, so 27 blows will have to be enough."

27 blows? Had I actually managed that many? I slumped in my cuffs as he faced me, lifting my head up to him. His gaze was purely carnal as he watched me and suddenly I could feel his other hand glide along my cock, and I shuddered. Had I been hard this whole time? He smiled.

"You look fucking delicious, with your pretty tears and your hard cock just begging for my touch. I bet I could make you cum just by using the knife right now."

"Oh god, yes..." I moaned and rolled my hips towards him, not caring about my achingly sore ass anymore.

I could already imagine the feel of the blade, the tip tracing my stomach, my back, all over my body and my need for him just shot through the roof.

"Did you get off on watching the guy in the mask handling the knife?"

I paused in my wild fantasies. That question was weirdly put. What did he mean? That I liked watching the guy? Or the knife? Or both? How should I answer? If I was completely honest with myself it had been both, but that had nothing to do with the guy really. It was the pure vision of him. But how could I explain that?

"I'm... not sure I understand?" I answered, hesitantly.

He leaned in closer and I could feel his lips grazing my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck.

"I'm asking you if you get turned on by the unknown," he whispered and there was intensity in his voice. "To be exposed. Not knowing what's about to happen. Like that guy in a mask, unknown to you. You bought a blindfold, remember? Being blindfolded makes you vulnerable and the unknown becomes very real."

"I wanted... to know how that felt, yeah..." I confessed and could feel the heat on my cheeks.

"No, don't blush now," he smiled and pulled the blindfold out of his breast pocket. "Remember that I want to be there with you as you explore. I wanna know what you find pleasure in, understand? Do you trust me?"

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