Scorched Edges by L.M. Somerton Read Free Book Online

sat straighter, clearly fascinated by what he was hearing.
    “The bullwhip has a short, rigid handle and a flexible thong which can come in various lengths. The longer the whip, the less accurate it will be. Until you are an expert, protect your eyes. You only get one set, so it’s better to cover up than lose one of them. Goggles or even a hat with a brim can work. Before you start swinging, make sure there is no one behind you and nothing loose on the ground because if you strike just right, you can send an object flying like a bullet.”
    Rotating his wrist, Lash began to spin the whip in a circle around himself like a propeller. He created a disc of movement above his head, keeping his body at the center. “If you need to release the whip’s energy, crack it into the ground.” He snapped the whip down and a sharp sound split the air, bringing a gasp from the crowd.
    “I’m going to demonstrate three basic shots—the overhand throw, the circus crack and the reverse snap.”
    Lash proceeded to do just that. His commentary gave a detailed description of each movement and position. On every stroke his accuracy was astounding. The tip of the whip grazed Kato’s flesh, raising a reddened line, nothing more. The audience remained respectfully silent as they watched a master at work.
    Once the show was over, the lights on the stage dimmed to give Lash some privacy with his sub. The volume of the music increased and a steady flow of men hit the dance floor. Beau stroked Marty’s bare arm and rotated him until Marty straddled his thighs, facing him.
    “You’re trembling. How are you doing?”
    Marty frowned. “I’m…good. I think. I’m not sure why I enjoyed that so much…” His voice trailed off.
    Beau slipped his hand beneath Marty’s T-shirt and rubbed small circles over his back. His skin was smooth and very warm.
    “Do you… Do you whip your subs, Beau?”
    That’s what’s worrying him. He thinks I’ll want to take a bullwhip to his back. “Does that bother you?”
    “I think it does.” Marty’s nose wrinkled for a moment, lifting his spectacles. “I mean, I understand the dynamic that was going on up on stage. The sub was just as into it as the man with the whip. He enjoyed the pain… He was turned on by it. I know all about endorphins and the rush that pain can bring, but I don’t think I’d want that. For me, I mean.”
    “It’s not something that appeals to me either, Marty. I’m a totally different kind of sadist. I fully admit that I would enjoy making you suffer, but not in that way.” Beau kept rubbing.
    Marty leaned back into his touch, inviting more. “In what way then?” Marty spoke so quietly Beau could hardly hear him over the thudding beat of the music.
    “How do you think it feels to be held on the edge of orgasm for hours? Or to be denied the option to come completely?”
    Marty’s eyes widened but he didn’t reply.
    “Do you know what predicament bondage is?” Beau asked.
    “I could make an educated guess,” Marty replied, blushing.
    “Well, I enjoy all those things. I’d like to see your skin pink under my flogger or paddle, spank you with my bare hand, keep you in chastity and control your pleasure…put you in chains and fuck you until you scream.” Beau’s cock hardened. The thought of all the delicious things he would like to do to the young man in his lap was intoxicating. “But not tonight.”
    “No?”
    Beau was fairly certain that he detected disappointment in Marty’s voice.
    “No. Tonight I’m going to take you home, walk you to your door and, if you allow it, kiss you goodnight.”
    Marty gifted him with a shy smile.
    “Tomorrow, when we have our second date, we’ll see.”
    “We’re having a second date? You want to see me again?” Marty sounded astonished and delighted at the same time.
    “We are and I do. I’m keeping you out late, so I’ll let you lie in tomorrow then I’m going to pick you up for brunch. If the weather holds,