The Wildness Within

Go Deeper 2

'Here,' Augus said, handing him the red flogger. 'Touch them. Get a sense of them. The black one is a heavier beast, certainly, but it's the red one you'll be getting to know first.'

Gwyn delicately touched the tails, felt the tail tips. He looked at the weaving on the handle. He lifted the leather to his nose and sniffed it. And Augus watched him while unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off and meeting Ash's eyes as he did so, checking in on him. Ash watched Augus now, curious but wary, his legs slightly apart, more tense than he tried to appear.

'How are you doing, brother?' Augus asked.

'Can I say the word if I need to as well?' Ash said, and though he tried to make it a joke, Augus could tell he was afraid.

'Absolutely,' Augus said, smiling at him. 'Don't fret, Ash. This will go slowly.'

'I'm not sure if that's a good thing,' Ash said.

'I am,' Augus said, feeling more confident, not less.

This was one of his favourite activities that he didn't often get to indulge with clients, because it was self-indulgent. It was – to him – about sensory feedback, about showing the body what it could take, what it could learn to love. Even people who weren't masochists could learn to adore a good flogging. It just had to be done well.

Augus liked any opportunity to show what he could do masterfully. When the timing was right.

Eventually he took both floggers from Gwyn's hands and laid them down carefully on the clean floor. Then he took Gwyn by the wrist and carefully guided him to stand between the two sturdy posts, raising one arm – Gwyn not fighting him – and using rope to bind him in place. First at the wrist – working rope through the D-ring of the cuff, which would brace him nicely – and then further down at his elbow, so that there wouldn't be too much strain on the joints. Like this, Gwyn's front faced Ash. And Augus attached his other arm and wondered if it would help Ash to see Gwyn's expressions, to know that Gwyn welcomed the pain.

Augus stroked Gwyn's back. Pressed his bare chest against it and felt their heartbeats thumping together. Gwyn's body temperature was so warm, radiated right through his skin, and Augus pressed his lips to Gwyn's shoulders and enjoyed it, rubbing his cheek against smooth skin, trailing his fingers across flexing muscle. Gwyn's head fell forward, his trust in the moment showing through. After some time, Gwyn's head moved back in a seeking motion, pressing the side of his head to Augus' forehead, curly hair catching in his damp mane.

'I like you like this,' Augus murmured against his skin.

Gwyn made a sound that could have been agreement, or could have been acknowledgement that he'd heard the words.

'So sweet for it,' Augus continued. 'Even when you don't know what's going to happen.'

'You're going to hit me,' Gwyn said, and there was amusement in his voice.

'Such a crude way of saying it,' Augus said, dragging blunt fingertips up over Gwyn's back. 'As though it would ever be that simple.'

He stepped back and kept his hands on Gwyn's flesh. He lightly stroked Gwyn's shoulders and flanks, watching the skin dip beneath his touch. He cupped Gwyn's ass cheeks, pulling the flesh up, digging his thumbs in.

Slowly his touches firmed. Not enough to be truly painful. Augus used the heels of his palms over Gwyn's back and watched blood flush to the surface. Watched how his pale skin was reddening already. This, he knew, was necessary if he wanted to minimise damage. More than that, it desensitised the nerve endings, made them receptive to what was coming.

Augus needed Gwyn receptive, not shocked. So he worked his back and buttocks and even his thighs with his hands, sometimes using his knuckles, sometimes his elbows, all the time listening to the cadence of Gwyn's breathing as it deepened and slowed. Gwyn surrendered to the bindings, standing on his feet but letting his arms go lax.