Dominion

An eBook By Mychael Black and Shayne Carmichael.

"So full. Master…"

Jason tugged at the restraints, causing the heavy links of the chains to thump and slide over the polished wood. The St. Andrew's cross had been somewhat of a gift, presented to Jason just two months ago on his thirtieth birthday. Though Dominic had bought it for all of them, he was the only one to utilize it. He couldn't blame Grif, his lover, in the least for avoiding it. Hell, he would have, too, if he'd been in Grif's place. After Grif's blood brother, Tristan, had whipped him beyond endurance, it'd taken several months before Grif would even venture into the dungeon.

Turning back to his beautiful captive, Dominic just smiled. The rather large plug had been another gift, this one from Tage. It shot to the top of Jason's toy list the first time he'd taken the entire thing for longer than five minutes. It was the most he'd ever had. Dominic looked at the intercom, with its digital clock that Grif had installed the first time he'd been back down to the dungeon. Ten more minutes.

"You're doing excellent, Jason," he purred in Jason's ear.

He slid his fingers down Jason's spine, and when he reached the flared base of the plug, he gripped it tightly and gave it a good jiggle. Jason gasped and cried out, that sweet body surging, muscles going taut beneath sweat-slick skin.

Dominic saw Grif smile from where he stood in the doorway. Lately, except for when Tage begged him for a play session, it wasn't often that Grif ventured into the dungeon. Though it had been several months, he still avoided the small area where Tristan had chained him. Although Dominic knew the memories were distant enough not to readily feel, the scars lingered.

Grif smiled back at him, though it seemed to require some effort to appear so casual. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Grif leaned against the doorframe, wearing nothing but his usual loose white cotton pants.

Dominic could tell just by Grif's eyes that he still wasn't thoroughly comfortable being in the dungeon. It had given Dominic a great deal of satisfaction in killing Tristan, but it hadn't fully rid Grif of his fears.

"So sweet," Dominic murmured, returning his attention to Jason. He licked at the salty, smooth skin of his sub's neck as he pulled Jason's hair to the side.

Peppering Jason's neck with soft kisses and nips, he reached for the flogger on the table beside the cross. Then he stepped back and slid his fingers through the leather tails. It was a game they had been working on for several weeks, and as the first snap of the leather across bare flesh rang sharply in the room, Dominic knew—just knew—that this time would be different.

Jason's fingers curled around the leather cuffs holding his arms apart and his breath hitched, small shudders sliding through his body. Dominic changed his angle and snapped the flogger again. A trail of angry red lines crossed Jason's buttocks, just above the base of the plug.

Setting the flogger to the side, Dominic stepped up to Jason and whispered: "Come."

...

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