Chapter 113: BDSM Play -2

Varek stood behind Soren and ran the tails of the flogger slowly down the length of his spine, over the raised welts on his ass, and between his spread thighs. Soren’s fist kept moving on his cock in the slow rhythm he had been ordered to keep. The head of it brushed the wooden surface of the bench with every upward stroke, leaving small wet marks.

"Stop stroking."

Soren’s hand froze instantly. His cock twitched hard in the sudden absence of friction, the skin tight and shiny, the tip still leaking. Varek watched the bead of precome stretch and fall.

"Hands behind your back. Fingers laced."

Soren locked his hands at the small of his back. The position forced his chest flatter against the bench and pushed his ass higher. His cock hung free now, heavy and dark, the marks from the earlier flogging still visible along the shaft.

Varek set the flogger aside and picked up a short leather crop from the nearby table. He tapped the flat end once against the underside of Soren’s balls.

"You’re going to stay exactly like this while I remind you what you are. No touching. No humping the bench. If that cock softens, I start over on it until it stands again. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sir. I understand."

Varek brought the crop down in a sharp snap across the left ass cheek. Then the right. He worked in steady, measured strikes, covering the already-pink skin until the welts darkened. Between blows he spoke in the same calm, contemptuous tone.

"You’re a free-use toy. I could walk out of this room right now and leave you here on display, cock hard, ass striped, and you’d still be waiting when I came back. You’d still be dripping for me. That’s how pathetic you are."

He shifted the crop lower and landed three precise strikes across the sensitive skin just above Soren’s hole. Soren’s hips jerked forward, but he caught himself before his cock touched the bench again. A broken sound slipped out of his throat.

Varek stepped to the side so he could see Soren’s face. He rested the tip of the crop under Soren’s chin and forced his head up.

"Look at me while I talk to you. You’re not a man in this room. You’re property. My personal hole. My marked-up cumrag. The only reason that dick is still hard is because I allow it. The only reason you’re breathing this air is because I haven’t finished using you yet."

He moved the crop down and flicked it once against the head of Soren’s cock. The sound was wet and sharp. Soren’s whole body tensed, but his hands stayed locked behind his back.

"You’re going to thank me for every strike from now on. And you’re going to use the words I give you."

The next blow landed across the shaft. Soren’s voice came out rough.

"Thank you for marking your property."

Another strike, harder, across the head.

"Thank you for treating me like the hole I am."

Varek kept going—short, stinging blows spaced just far enough apart that the burn had time to sink in. He mixed targets: the cock, the balls, the inner thighs, the already-abused ass. Each time Soren spoke the required words without hesitation.

When the cock was a deeper red and visibly throbbing, Varek set the crop down. He stepped in close behind Soren, still fully dressed except for the open trousers that left his own cock free. He did not push forward. He simply rested the heavy length of it along the cleft of Soren’s ass, letting the heat and weight of it sit there.

"Feel that. That’s what you exist for. Not for your own pleasure. Not for some soft little fantasy. You exist so I can put this wherever I want, whenever I want. Tonight I’m still deciding how much you’re allowed to have. Right now you get nothing but the weight of it and the knowledge that you’re mine."

He ground forward once, slow and deliberate, dragging the shaft between Soren’s cheeks without entering. Then he pulled back.

"Stay in position. I’m going to walk around you and inspect what’s mine. If that cock drops even a little, you will tell me immediately so I can correct it."

Varek circled the bench. He ran a hand over the welts on Soren’s ass, pressed a thumb against one especially dark mark, and watched the muscle jump. He reached underneath and wrapped his fingers around Soren’s cock—not stroking, just holding it in a firm, claiming grip.

"Still hard. Good. You’re learning. A desperate little bitchboy who stays ready even when it hurts. That’s all you are in this room. Say it for me one more time while I hold what’s mine."

Soren’s voice was hoarse but clear.

"I’m a desperate little bitchboy who stays ready even when it hurts. I’m your property. Your hole. Your toy."

Varek gave the cock one slow, tight squeeze and released it. He picked up the flogger again.

"We’re still not finished breaking you down. Keep those hands locked. Keep that ass up. I’m going to work you until you can’t think of anything except the next order I give you."

He raised the flogger and let the tails fall across Soren’s thighs in a heavy, deliberate stroke. The sound filled the room. Soren stayed exactly where he had been placed, cock still standing, body open and waiting.

Varek let the flogger rest against Soren’s thigh for a long moment after the last stroke. The skin there was already striped and hot. Soren’s cock remained hard, the head flushed almost purple, a thin string of precome still connecting it to the bench below.

"On the floor. Knees. Now."

Soren pushed himself off the bench and dropped to the concrete. His hands stayed laced behind his back until Varek gave a short nod. Only then did he place them on his thighs, palms up, the way he had been trained.

Varek stepped in front of him and freed his cock fully from his trousers. It was thick, heavy, and already leaking at the tip. He did not offer it. He simply held it in one hand and looked down.

"You’re going to earn the right to touch it with your mouth. Until then you stay exactly where you are. Eyes on it. No looking away."

Soren’s gaze locked on the shaft in front of him. Varek stroked himself once, slow, and watched Soren’s throat work as he swallowed.

"You’re a service toy first. A hole second. Right now you’re neither. You’re just a marked-up piece of property waiting for permission. Open your mouth."

Soren opened. Varek leaned forward and spat directly onto his tongue again. He waited until Soren had swallowed, then spat a second time.

"Keep it on your tongue this time. Don’t swallow until I say."

Soren held still, mouth open, the spit pooling. Varek tapped the head of his cock against Soren’s lower lip, smearing the wetness there, but still did not push inside.

"You’re going to stay hard while I use your face as a wipe. If that cock softens even a little, I put the flogger back on it until it’s standing again. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

Varek dragged the head of his cock across Soren’s cheek, leaving a shiny trail. He wiped it over Soren’s mouth, his chin, the bridge of his nose. Each pass left more precome and spit behind. He spoke while he did it.

"This is what you’re for. Cleaning me. Taking whatever I leave on you. Looking wrecked and grateful for it. You’re not a partner. You’re not an equal. You’re the thing I dirty and then order to stay dirty until I’m ready for more."

He pulled back and looked at the mess he had made of Soren’s face. Soren’s cock was still rigid between his knees, the earlier marks from the flogger standing out clearly.

Varek crouched, one hand still wrapped around his own cock, the other reaching down to grip Soren’s shaft in a tight, unmoving hold. He did not stroke. He simply squeezed.

"Still hard. Good. You’re learning your place faster tonight. A desperate little bitchboy who stays ready even when his face is covered in someone else’s mess. That’s all you are."

He released Soren’s cock and stood again. He pointed at the floor between his boots.

"Crawl closer. Chest to the floor. Ass up. Hands behind your head."

Soren moved immediately. He stretched forward until his cheek pressed to the concrete, arms folded behind his head, knees spread wide so his cock and balls hung exposed. The position left every mark on full display.

Varek walked a slow circle around him. He dragged the toe of his boot lightly along the underside of Soren’s cock, then pressed the sole down—not hard enough to crush, just enough to pin the shaft to the floor.

"Don’t move. Don’t thrust. You’re going to stay pinned like this while I decide the next thing you get to feel."

He kept his boot in place and picked up the crop again. The first strike landed across the backs of Soren’s thighs. The second caught the curve of his ass. The third snapped directly onto the exposed hole, a sharp, stinging reminder.

Soren’s body twitched, but he did not try to pull away from the boot. His cock stayed trapped and hard underneath it.

Varek’s voice stayed low and absolute.

"You’re my free-use property. I can leave you on the floor like this for an hour and you’d still be hard when I came back. I can wipe my cock on your face and make you hold the spit and you’d still thank me. That’s how deep this sits in you. You’re not going to fight it. You’re going to lean into it."

He lifted his boot, then immediately replaced it with the other one, still pinning Soren’s cock to the concrete. Another three strikes landed across the ass and thighs.

"Tell me what you are while I keep you here."

Soren’s voice was rough against the floor.

"I’m your free-use property. Your marked-up toy. Your hole. Your cumrag. I stay hard because you allow it. I take whatever you give me because that’s what I exist for."

Varek removed his boot and crouched again. He wrapped one hand around Soren’s cock and gave it three slow, tight strokes—just enough to make the shaft jump and leak more—then let go completely.

"Back on your knees. Mouth open. Tongue out. You’re going to hold position while I decide whether you’ve earned anything more than the taste of my spit."

Soren pushed himself up, knelt, and opened his mouth exactly as ordered. His face was still shiny with the mess Varek had left on it. His cock stood rigid and neglected between his thighs.

Varek stood over him, cock in hand, and looked down without offering it.

"We’re still nowhere near the part where I use you the way you want. Right now you’re going to stay right there, dirty and hard and waiting, until I say otherwise."