Adults Corner #21

This posting is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY.

It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.

These are parts of stories that are still being written. And therefore haven’t had a BETA read, let alone a editing from me.

Welcome to the underworld. Cause of death?

Ah… spear in the neck.

Ah, of course. Come in.

                                —the show the kids where watching.

 

Ah, so I guess I wrote this one just for yous…

Hope it works.

Hope ya like it.

Hope I got him right.

It’s M/m BDSM erotica

1,988 words. And I literally finished it a moment before it went live.

The leather bit into his wrists as my flesh nearly shattered off his skin when the first sting of a whip graced his back tonight. Bead loved these nights, when he was up on the cross, waiting for the next and the next to come up and work their magic. Showing off their own skill.

None of them had gotten anything out of Bead but a light tingle in his balls. Something that was easily dismissed to die a death not worth living.

Bead was the worst pain whore he had ever come across. There wasn’t anything Bead had come across that had made him cry out his safe word in pain. If anything the men and woman he had been with weren’t good enough. They kept on treating him like he deserved better.

Fucking idiots. Didn’t they know anything. It wasn’t about deserving something emotionally. No he was okay in that aspect. He had a few close friends, even a best friend, who he told everything to. Emotionally he was fine and dandy. The pain he needed to get off on had nothing to do with anything that he should be working out on a soft chair with a trained professional. He just liked the pain. Had since the beginning when his best mate dared him to clip up his balls to an electric shock. The orgasm that had ridden him with the pain that vaulted threw his entire body and seemed to hum in a ball at the back of his throat. It had been the best sexual experience of his life. And he had been chasing that high ever since.

Another sharp snap of the whip being whiled by a pro. The sharp slice of it slicing across his back with a slightly duller pain and more of a deep burn had Bead’s head falling back and his hips pressing forward, a sensual rub of his cock along the padded middle section of the cross.

That was heaven provided his millisecond of high before it all shattered away. he needed more. He needed so much more. More pain. Faster strokes. A person who didn’t care that he was human and only saw him as a canvas of flesh.  

But wasn’t really in the right club for that. Generally it was ‘cause he couldn’t deal with the humiliation that revolves around them and the fact that they wanted him to be something more than what he was. He didn’t like being pissed on, or locked in a cage.

The high had completely gone by the time the next person was up at the stand. Bead could only tell ‘cause of the chants of the crowd. The Whipping computation had been running for the last month, this was the finals. And the closest that Bead was going to get to being his canvas, though a reason he knew nothing was going to come out of it all.

They didn’t care about him getting off. They weren’t training little doms in the way of treating there subs with a whip. He hadn’t a partner. Not in lovers senses or collared sense as they had here. Though he had never truly understood someone’s need to be owned by another.

Yeah, this really wasn’t his crowd of people, but it was the only way he was going to get the needed pain slicing up his back. Later on, he’d go out find himself a fuck and have them weather rid him on something rough or have them run there nails down the tender flesh.

“Ah….” He cried out as spiked paddle smacked into the lower curve of his naked arse. He knew that thing by feel. He’d had a woman use one on him after the first time he came up on the cross for a demonstration. He had been riding a high like no other that night but had needed something more to add to the sex. A chick with a thing for pegging….

But none had felt as good as the stinging heat that was slightly moving threw his muscles.

“Pay attention, boy,” a deep voice said. It was so deep it seemed that Bead could feel the words more than hear them. Bead had never heard anything like it in his life. a tickle started at his nape, as blood ran a little thicker to his dick.

“Yes, sir,” Bead said automatically, it was what they drilled into him when he had started doing this little show for the club. He was a sub, they had said, and so he had to treat everyone like they were above him. Though why that meant he had to call them ‘sir’ Bead wasn’t sure, maybe he was too young to really get it. Maybe from the wrong country, town. Where they called everyone older than then ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’

The man chuckled making a shiver dance across Bead’s skin. His lips went dry. His balls pulled up tight. Man, he hadn’t been this hard in a long time, it was nearly becoming uncomfortable.

“How much can you handle, boy?”

“Anything,” he muttered back. He had never been this affected by anyone before. “Everything.”

The man chuckled again as sweat started building up on Bead’s forehead. Under his jaw. “We’ll see,” he said softly like he was saying it under his breath, which was followed by another smack of that studded paddle.

“Ah, fuck,” Bead managed to keep the most of his words smothered by biting his tongue. But the power behind that hit was still vibrating his flesh and heating his spin. The man had to have some serious workout resume to get that type movement behind such a simply small jester.

Fucking hell, Bead’s whole mind went into anticipation he may just have found his match. Shame he would never know the man’s name, or what he looked like. That wasn’t what he’s job was for the night. A job, mind you, that he was being paid nicely for.

“you remember your safe word, boy,” the man asked from, what Bead presumed was the yellow line.

“Bead,” Bead said. The same was said about him, there were no names. He was just meant to be a body, and nothing lost the mood than you screaming out someone else’s name when things were getting good.

“Interesting chose,” the man said conversationally, like he was meeting Bead at the bar not strapped to the cross with him, hopefully, cradling a wicked whip. Anything else and he’d be disappointed with the man that thought he needed to be asked about the amount of pain inflicted. Floggers did nothing for him anymore. A soft tickle. But then the club owners new that and wouldn’t have let the man on stage with something as mundane as that, would they?

the sound of the whip being flicked had Bead’s heart jump in excitement. It didn’t hit him though, no, it had clipped along the side of the cross at his right hand, elbow high, so close to his face that he could see the quick blur of black and it came and pulled back.

He shivered. More blood pooled low. His hips flecked forward leaning heavily into the padding, but didn’t rub. He was already to close, and there was no way he was going to embarrass himself by coming from anticipation alone. He wasn’t a virgin at this shit. Hadn’t been well before he’d lost his virginity—both ways.

The man behind him chuckled. It was low and solid, and seemed to be the only thing in the whole place. Just him and Bead, which was impressive if he had the power to think anything at the moment, ‘cause these places weren’t known for silence, even more so when there was a show. And this crowd more than any had been quite rowdy.

The second crack was on his left side, the leather caressed his thigh, just above his knee, before cracking into the wooden board he was tide to. The sing was more an acknowledgement that it was meant to hurt than pain itself.  It had him humming. He wanted more. Hell, he needed more.

Then it started.

“holly fuck,” Bean’s mouth opened but he couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t see anything. Everything that he was was lining his back, his sides as, what he assumed, was two whips flicking alternative against his flesh. Making patterns. Making a masterpiece and leaving him in a whole lot of pleasure he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He wasn’t sure what he wasn’t. it was like he whole being was being caressed by a feather, heated by a fireplace, and treated just the way he wished it.

His blood boiled, the restraints pulled at his skin, adding to the assault on his body as he tried to get into a different angle, tried to get hit in a different place.

His upper back, lower back, thighs, arse, shoulders were all burning hot. His body vibrating as he was held there, his mouth opened in a wide smile, his head hanging back. Oh, fuck yeah, this was good. He would put money on the best he’s ever had, but then he wasn’t really in the right mind to make the bet.  So….good.

Fingers pulled at his balls, hard from behind, it was sudden, it was a surprise—he hadn’t realised the whipping had stopped.

The tug had him screaming silently, there was no air left for anything, his mind blinked stars as his orgasm was pulled out of him in spectacular style.

“Mmmm, you did good boy,” the man purred as Bean’s came down from his high. And for the first time in…hell he couldn’t remember, he wanted to turn around and ask for more. but his mind was all fucked out, and his body a wobbly noodle. His back…

Was being tended to, apparently. Bean blinked when he realised he wasn’t on the cross anymore. He was laying down on something padded, and he got the feeling it was high, a massage table perhaps. As strong fingers were rubbing a soothingly cool gel onto his beaten flesh. It felt wonderful.

“I’m impressed,” the man said, though Bean was yet to get enough strength back in his body to look at him. At the man who gave him such a killer orgasm. He really wanted a face to go with the voice.

“You are?” he managed to get out. Though it was thready and horribly embarrassing.

“Though if I thought you couldn’t take it I wouldn’t have bothered. But hell, boy, you lasted, didn’t ya?” he said and Bean felt pride swell up inside him. Even if he didn’t really deserve it.

“I don’t think I did.”

“Yeah, you relaxed into the swing of things, you glazed over, and you enjoyed the hell outta the whole thing. Most only go for a few straps and cry uncle. You….” he sighed, like he was having a mini orgasm himself, and it sounded hot to Bean. “You went until my arms cramped.” There was a long pause. “New you’d win me the bet.”

Something in Beat died with that, “Glad I could help.”

“Oh, ya did.” another pause. “Now, let’s get you dressed and I’ll take ya home.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. Paul was my lift.”

“Not tonight, I fucked you up, I get to nurse ya back,” the man said and there was something in his voice that made Beat’s stomach do cartwheels. Not in a bad way, there was no killer vibes, though he wasn’t sure it would matter. No, it was that nervousness of new beginnings kinda shit. And hell, if that wasn’t scarier.

“What’s your name?” Beat asked as he finally managed to shift his feet.

“Harley, yours?”

“Ben,” Beat introduced as he’s eyes blinked away the dizziness and looked up at the man with the voice that could make him blow his load.

End.