Safe in His Arms (27 page)

restrain your arms and legs so you can relax more fully and accept what I give you

without struggling.‖

Hank nodded, adrenaline zipping through his blood. He lay face down on the bed,

relaxing into the mattress as Russell bound him spread-eagle with soft thick rope

looped around his ankles and wrists and secured to the iron bed posts. He rested his

cheek against the sheets and closed his eyes.

At first Russell gently massaged his ass cheeks and lower back with strong,

soothing hands. After a while he slipped his hand beneath Hank‘s body, reaching for

Hank‘s balls, which he stroked and gently squeezed. Hank squirmed, his cock aching

for Russell‘s touch.

As if reading his mind, Russell moved his hand along the mattress beneath Hank‘s

body. Hank obligingly lifted his hips, allowing Russell to stroke and squeeze his shaft.

Hank moaned, momentarily forgetting the cane.

Russell laughed softly, withdrawing his hand. ―Time for what you asked for. If

you‘re sure you still want it.‖

―Yes,‖ Hank whispered, butterflies starting up in his stomach as the image of the

marked man in the video again flashed into his mind. But in spite of his trepidation, he

did want it. His skin tingled with longing for the heightened sensation Russell could

give him. ―Yes, please.‖

―Okay, then,‖ Russell said. ―We‘ll start easy.‖

He began to tap Hank‘s ass in a light, steady motion, covering the flesh of both

cheeks and his upper thighs, warming the skin with the cane‘s light sting. After a while,

he began to strike a little harder, a rain of tiny, sharp taps that pulled Hank from the lull

he‘d sunk into.

―How‘re you doing?‖ Russell asked, stopping a moment to stroke Hank‘s ass. He

reached again beneath Hank, warm fingers circling the stiff shaft. ―Good, I see,‖ he

added, chuckling.

Russell moved to stand beside Hank‘s head, his large, thick cock just out of Hank‘s

reach. Hank lifted his head and opened his mouth, wishing at that moment he wasn‘t

restrained so he could suck that glorious cock.

―Getting distracted, huh?‖ Russell teased. But, to Hank‘s delight, he moved closer,

bending his knees until his cock was within reach. Straining in his bonds, Hank closed

his lips over the hard, perfect shaft. Russell moved forward, pushing his erection back

into Hank‘s throat.

―Milk it,‖ he ordered, his voice suddenly husky with lust. Hank did the best he

could from the difficult angle, his own cock pulsing beneath him. After a minute or two

Russell pulled back and Hank reluctantly let go. Russell moved back out of Hank‘s line

of vision.

Again he stroked Hank‘s ass with sure hands. ―Ready for more?‖

Hank nodded eagerly.

Russell started again with the light, steady tapping. This time he increased the

intensity more quickly. Hank could hear the swish of the cane slicing the air in the

fraction of a second before the rod met flesh. He drew in a sharp breath as his brain

processed the pain.

―Relax,‖ Russell soothed. ―Don‘t tense your body. You‘re doing great.‖

Hank let out a breath and took in another, slow and deep as Russell had taught

him. Yet when the next stroke came, he tensed again. ―Easy,‖ Russell said softly. ―Flow

with it. I‘m going to give you five strokes on each side. I‘m going to mark you. Okay?‖

―Yeah,‖ Hank affirmed. The butterflies were dancing, but he wanted this. He

needed it. He squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation and clenched his hands into fists.

―Hey.‖ Russell‘s voice was suddenly right there beside Hank‘s ear, his warm,

inviting scent in Hank‘s nostrils. He stroked Hank‘s hair. ―Relax, babe. Remember,

you‘re safe with me. I‘m not going to take you further than you can go. Did you forget

that?‖

Hank opened his eyes and smiled weakly. Russell kissed his lips lightly and

stepped back with a smile. ―That‘s better. You can do this, if it‘s what you really want.

And it‘s not too late to change your mind. It‘s never too late.‖

―No,‖ Hank said quickly. ―I want it. Please.‖

Russell nodded and moved back to gently tuck Hank‘s balls beneath him. ―Okay,‖

he said. ―Ten strokes. And remember, don‘t fight it. You know where you want to go.

You can‘t get there by fighting.‖

The first blow caught Hank just where his ass met his thigh, on the right cheek. He

gasped from the cutting pain that arced with lightning speed through his nerve

endings. Russell struck the other cheek just as hard and again Hank gasped. He felt

sweat moistening at his underarms and along the back of his neck. He tugged at the

ropes that bound him.

Again the cane whooshed through the air and made contact. Pain sliced its way

along Hank‘s skin, the burn of its heat bursting into a smoldering flame of lust below

the surface.

Again the cane met its mark. Hank was breathing hard, his heart hammering in his

chest, his cock throbbing, balls tight. The strokes cut with a sharp, defined pain, so

different from the heavy, warm sensation of Russell‘s big, strong hands during a

spanking. The cane was less sensual, more demanding, more exacting, but every bit as

powerful.

Hank knew he was resisting, clenching, fighting. He knew this resistance prevented

him from fully experiencing the sensations, and kept him focused only on the pain,

instead of the fierce transcendent pleasure that could accompany it if only he could find

the courage to seize it. And yet he couldn‘t rise above the panic threatening to take him

over. ―I can‘t…‖ he cried, hating himself for his weakness even as the words left his

lips.

He felt Russell‘s hand on his face, its touch at once calming him. ―You‘re doing

great, Hank. I‘ll stop if you want, but I sense you can go further, if you want to.‖ He

bent down and kissed Hank‘s cheek.

Hank felt his courage and resolve returning. ―I do want it. I can do this.‖

―You can,‖ Russell reiterated, his words making Hank feel warm and strong. Hank

focused on opening himself to the pain, rather than trying to shut it out. He worked to

flow with each biting stroke of rattan against flesh. He did well for a time, but one

especially sharp cut jerked him out of balance and he became aware of his rasping

breath and thudding heart.

Just when he was about to tell Russell to stop, Russell bent forward, whispering in

his ear, ―You‘re amazing, Hank. For your first time, especially.‖ He kissed Hank‘s

shoulder, lightly nibbling the flesh and then drawing his tongue down Hank‘s back.

Hank shuddered with pleasure as Russell‘s tongue moved lower, licking along the cleft

of his ass.

Russell reached beneath Hank, fondling his shaft, which hardened at once to his

touch. ―You see now, don‘t you? The cane is an instrument, not of torture, but of

pleasure. It‘s a way to take you to that special place you love to go, the erotic pain

heightening every sensation.‖ He continued to stroke Hank‘s cock, his touch blending

with the burning sting which somehow only served to heighten the pleasure. Hank

hovered on the edge of orgasm, quite ready to topple over, but before he could come

the hand was withdrawn.

―I‘m going to take you the rest of the way now, lover,‖ Russell said. ―You‘ve earned

the right with your courage and your trust.‖

Hank nodded, all fear gone, ready for what his Sir could give him.

The sure stroke of the cane pulled a cry from Hank‘s lips, but he reveled in its

searing touch. There was no tenderness, no more buildup, but Hank required none. As

Russell worked his magic, everything but the sharp kiss of the cane fell away. Nothing

existed but the fiery, delicious, necessary pain, juxtaposed with a fierce, blinding

pleasure that emanated from deep in his loins.

The strokes became harder, almost too much to bear and despite himself, Hank felt

his body tensing, resisting. ―Let go…‖ Russell whispered. ―You can do it. I know you

can. Let go…‖

And…

…he did.

All at once a rushing warmth flowed through his limbs and he felt his breath

slowing, his grip easing, his toes uncurling. The cane continued to strike heated flesh,

each cut drawing a moan or sigh from Hank‘s lips, but the overlay of panic had

evaporated like mist when the sun finally rises.

He was cocooned in a warm, safe place, while at the same time his spirit soared,

tethered to the earth only by the sound of Russell‘s voice, which was filled with barely

restrained excitement. ―That‘s it. You‘re there. You did it. We did it.‖

Hank was dimly aware that Russell had turned off the light. He felt Russell slide

into bed beside him, his hard cock rubbing up against Hank‘s thigh. ―Now come for

me,‖ Russell murmured in a throaty voice. ―Withhold nothing. Give me it all.‖

Russell reached beneath Hank‘s spread legs, finding and stroking his cock as he

rubbed sensuously against his thigh. Hank rocked against Russell‘s hand. They moved

together, panting and sighing. Hank came in a mind blowing rush, thrusting hard,

grunting with each spasm.

When he could speak, Hank offered, ―That was fucking
amazing
.‖

As he came down, Hank drifted for a while, vaguely aware when Russell released

the slip knots from his wrists and ankles. He shivered with pleasure as he felt Russell‘s

soft tongue moving lightly over the welts on his ass.

Hank rolled to his side, reaching for Russell, who moved back up to lie on his back

beside him. Hank reached for Russell‘s cock, still hard and no doubt in serious need of

attention. He began to stroke and massage him, using both hands. As he touched his

lover, he struggled with what he wanted to say—what he needed to say.

This vocabulary of love was new for him, a man who, until he‘d met Russell, had

doubted its very existence. ―You…‖ He faltered, for the moment unable to articulate his

nearly overwhelming feelings.

―Me?‖ Russell asked, and then groaned as Hank continued to stroke and fondle his

cock and balls.

―You,‖ Hank repeated. Russell leaned closer, touching Hank‘s lips with his, and the

gates to his feelings opened. ―You are the most amazing man I‘ve ever been with. I had

no idea I could be taken to such an incredible place. I‘ve never experienced anything

like it. I mean, the spankings and bondage are seriously hot but this was…well, at the

risk of sounding ridiculous, it was sublime. I don‘t know how else to say it.‖

―I‘m glad…‖ Russell panted, as Hank continued to focus on his cock, ―…you liked

it.‖

―No, no. I mean, yes, but that‘s not all I mean.‖ Hank leaned down, teasing and

licking the head of Russell‘s cock as he struggled to gather his thoughts. He pulled back,

cupping Russell‘s balls, his mind clearing some. ―I think the thing of it is this, Russell.

Why I said
you
. You are the one who has been there for me. The one who taught me

about respect and love, and how they go hand in hand. You taught me about giving—

not for what you can get, but because you want to.‖

He stroked Russell‘s cock, increasing the friction on the sensitive gland just below

the head. ―I want to give to you, my wonderful man. Not because I owe you, not

because you asked me, but just because I want to. For you. For us.‖

Hank reached for the tube they kept beside the bed. He kept his eyes on Russell‘s

face as he squeezed a dollop of the lubricant onto his fingers, and then continued to

stroke Russell‘s erection.

He shifted, straddling Russell‘s hips as he reached back to daub a bit more of the

lube between his ass cheeks. ―I belong to you,‖ he whispered. Russell nodded, his eyes

boring into Hank‘s.

Gripping the base of Russell‘s cock, Hank lowered himself carefully onto it,

savoring the hard press as Russell filled him, and the sting as his welted ass met

Russell‘s groin.

Russell reached for Hank‘s hips, guiding him downward until Hank was impaled

on his lover‘s shaft. They began to move together, the timeless dance of lovers in perfect

sync.

They stared into each other‘s eyes as they moved and Hank imagined he could

actually see a fire blazing behind Russell‘s. Russell‘s pupils were dilated, a black ocean

circled in brilliant blue. He began to breathe rapidly, his fingers digging hard into

Hank‘s hips as he lifted and lowered Hank onto his satiny steel shaft.

―Come for me,‖ Hank whispered, and this time it was Russell who obeyed.

~*~

It must have been near dawn when Hank awoke. He had fallen asleep in his

favorite position, his head resting against the soft ginger curls that covered Russell‘s

massive chest, his leg slung over Russell‘s hips.

He lay quietly awhile, watching the sky change through the eastern windows from

predawn gray to lavender edged with gold. He reached back, gingerly touching his ass,