Angel and the Assassin (26 page)

“She‟s a clever woman; I doubt she believed you,” Kael said. “And don‟t think for a second I am finished with you for telling Angel that shite about his mother.” A thick silence followed while Kael waited. When you had made a point, it was always best to let it ferment.

“Go up to Scotland. You‟ll get instructions at Edinburgh Castle.”

“When?”

“You‟ll meet your contact at nine a.m. tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” He was furious.

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“You want to protect the boy from Andresen‟s Bosnian pals, don‟t you? We have an operation in the works to eliminate them; it keeps getting delayed, and now we have another problem. Another group is trying to get involved with the one Andresen was doing business with. They want a share of the ammunition. The brains behind it will be in Edinburgh tomorrow. He is your target.” He hung up.

“Excellent,” Kael said into the air.

Angel was loading the dishwasher when he walked into the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of the new underwear Kael had bought him, Ergowear bikinis in a zebra stripe. Kael had gone out shopping alone to buy clothes for Angel. He had eyeballed him for size, and everything fit perfectly.

“Do you want to sit in the living room, Sir, and I‟ll bring your whiskey?” But Angel no longer sat on the couch beside him or in his lap. He sat at his feet or alone in an armchair.

“No. Finish the dishes quickly. We‟re going to spend some time in the dungeon.”

Despite Angel‟s reticence over the last week, an excited smile lightened his face at the mention of the dungeon. “Yes, Sir.”

Kael had fucked him every day for the last week and given him a couple of good hard spankings that had had the desired effect, but there had been no emotional intimacy between them. This should sort everything out and at the same time keep Angel safe until he returned from Scotland. At least he didn‟t have to go outside of the UK this time.

But when he returned, he wanted his boy back.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Angel walked into the dungeon naked, pink, and warm from his shower. Sir was scrupulous about being clean before and after they played or had sex. Naked and standing with his hands on his hips, Sir waited for Angel to come and stand before him. Angel stood at attention, shoulders back, feet apart, hands behind his back.

“I‟m ready to serve you, Sir.”

“Good lad.” He pointed at the freestanding flogging post. “Every good sub should be flogged regularly by his master. It keeps his muscles supple, it tests his courage, and it gives him and his master pleasure. A spanking is fun, but you are not truly owned until you have been flogged, and I‟ve not yet flogged you.”

Angel sucked in a fast breath. He had looked at the flogging post every time he had been in the dungeon and wondered how it would feel to be bound to it. Now it was about to happen, he was nervous, desperate to show his worth. “Yes, Sir, I‟m ready.”

“Tell me what you want, boy, and what you don‟t want.”

All he truly wanted was to be valued and loved. “You‟re the master, Sir.”

13Sir looked down at him. “I didn‟t say I‟d comply with everything you want, but I‟m interested to know.”

Desperate to please but determined to be honest, Angel said, “I don‟t want another enema, Sir, unless it pleases you.”

Sir nodded gravely. “All right, no enema, at least not today. But I like giving enemas. It humbles a boy like nothing else. Makes him feel helpless and vulnerable.

Follow me.”

Sir strode across the room to the metal shelves along the wall and took down a rubber ball gag with a leather head strap. Angel licked his dry lips, both excited and nervous. There was no question that he liked to be restrained, bound, and helpless, but with each new experience he feared he might not be up to the challenge.

“Sir, the ball part looks like a baby‟s binky.”

“Binky? Like a baby‟s soother? Yes, I like this kind. The usual type of ball gag keeps the slave‟s mouth open, and they tend to drool, which I find very unappealing.

This one allows you to close your lips around the stem, but it also presses the tongue down so you can‟t speak very well. Open your mouth.”

Tilting his chin up, Angel opened his mouth, allowing Sir to insert the mouthpiece. He clamped his lips down over the stem and stood quietly getting used to the smooth feel and taste of the neoprene while Sir fastened the strap around the back of his head and buckled it tightly. Angel attempted to say, “Thank you, Sir,”

but it came out muffled and strange.

“Turn around,” Sir ordered.

Angel obeyed at once, expecting Sir to restrain his hands, but instead Sir took his wrists, crossed them behind his back and held them there, his superior strength making it impossible for Angel to move them. He wrapped his other arm around Angel‟s waist and, with one foot, knocked Angel‟s feet from under him. He lost his balance and fell forward. Sir held him with his arm and lowered him very quickly and none too gently to the floor.

Instinct and adrenaline took over, and Angel began to struggle. He managed to free his hands and used them to push himself up from the floor, but Sir body-slammed him back onto the hardwood and restrained his wrists again. His erect cock pressed between Angel‟s buttocks.

This was going to hurt; there was no lubrication. Spurred on by excitement and arousal, Angel continued to struggle, though he knew he did not stand a chance of getting free and did not want to. His cock rose the moment Sir dropped him to the ground, and when he felt Sir‟s erect cock against his ass and the cold smooth floor against his own hard cock, he knew his orgasm would explode very quickly.

Refusing to give up the struggle and becoming more aroused by the second, Angel felt Sir‟s cock stab at his anus, attempting to gain entry. He kicked his feet and managed to dislodge Sir from his back.

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“Keep still!” Sir, holding Angel‟s wrists securely behind his back, moved to one side and spanked his buttocks repeatedly. The spanks together with being restrained brought on his orgasm.

Pleasure flooded through his groin, rippling down his thighs. He released a strangled cry around the ball gag and stretched out his long limbs. His head rose up off the floor, his neck arching.

“You little bugger, you weren‟t supposed to come yet. That‟ll teach me. You need a cock ring to make you behave.” To punctuate his words, Sir let fly with his heavy hand and spanked Angel several more hard ones.

All the tension in Angel‟s body drained out of him. All the emotion and anger and resentment that had been building over the last week welled up in his chest. He dropped his head to the floor and let his tears flow.

You told Freddie you didn’t love me. You said I was temporary.

Busy behind him, Sir did not notice his tears. He spread Angel‟s buttocks with his hand and fell onto his back. There was enough precum to lubricate his anus, and the entry was smoother than Angel had expected. He no longer fought, so Sir did not bother to restrain his hands but rose up behind him and fucked him hard. The length of Sir‟s cock and its thickness filled his rectum, and it was comforting.

The sense of being covered and possessed by his master‟s body was immensely satisfying, and he felt both safe and encompassed. He wanted to live forever in that moment of being overcome and owned, absorbed into the body of his master.

Above him Sir cried out his climax and fell hard on Angel‟s back. His tears had stopped, and his only emotion at that moment was peace. He was completely at peace with Sir‟s decision to make a man of him and turn him out into the world, probably sooner rather than later. He was at peace with his disappointment and the anger that had accompanied it for the last week. He was not Daddy‟s boy as he wanted to be. Sir had never wanted that anyway, but had only indulged him. He would be a perfect slave, and Sir would remember him well.

Slowly, Sir climbed off and lifted him to his feet. “Go and stand at the whipping post, boy. I‟m ready to nudge you along the path to manhood.”

Angel tried to say yes, Sir, but gave up in favor of a bow from the waist. Sir smiled at him, and he found himself grateful. He no longer expected anything, which left him free to accept all the favors bestowed on him as just that, favors, gifts. Each moment in Master‟s service was a gift.

Sir went to the shelves and took down several implements, carrying them to where Angel waited.

“I want to hear your safe words,” Sir said. He took Angel‟s face in one hand.

“Let me hear it.”

“Red, yellow, green,” came out sounding strange but recognizable.

“Again,” Sir said. Angel repeated the words, and Sir nodded. “Make sure you say your word if you need to, and make it loud. Remember, the moment I hear red, 13playtime is over.” Angel bowed his head to say yes, but he had no intention of using his safe word.

Sir placed his equipment on the floor. “Put your wrists together, boy, in front.”

Angel obeyed, offering his wrists, watching while Sir locked heavy leather padded handcuffs onto his wrists. He performed the task quickly and efficiently, without speaking or looking at Angel, wholly engrossed in his work. Angel looked up into the handsome face, so overcome with love for his master that he felt tears fill his eyes again but fought them back.

I’m going to be brave.

With the cuffs comfortably restraining his wrists, Sir turned him to face the flogging post and lifted his hands, hooking the connecting chain over the sturdy wooden hook that jutted out of the post above his head. Sir did not fasten the cuffs to the hook; there was no need. The hook was high, forcing Angel up onto his toes.

To remove himself from the hook, he would have to jump, and that would be nearly impossible with no leverage. His feet were supple from dancing, and he stood up on the balls of his feet with no difficulty.

Sir took a metal cock ring and held it up. “This is a special kind of cock ring.

This part”—he ran his finger around the circle—“will slide up over your cock, but not your balls. And this part”—he ran his finger along a three-inch curving prong with a small ball on the end—“will press between your balls, against your perineum, and the ball will go inside your arsehole.”

The words alone aroused Angel, but when Sir grabbed his cock, shudders of pleasure rippled through his stretched, taut body. He moaned and bit down on the gag, afraid he would ejaculate again and disappoint Sir.

The look in his eyes must have been enough to tell Sir of his fears because he gripped Angel‟s cock hard and pulled it through the cold metal ring quickly, making it impossible for him to come. “There, boy, that‟s it.” His tone was so kind and comforting that Angel gave up all vestiges of control, even his determination to be the best slave in the world, and simply allowed himself to be directed, manipulated, and owned.

The snugness and the stretching were highly arousing. He liked the sensation of his cock being held securely in the cock ring, almost as if Sir‟s hand cradled it.

The long metal prong pressed against his perineum, separating his balls yet cradling them also, and the cool metal ball was pushed into his anus, creating a comforting fullness. When the instrument was securely in place, Angel released the breath he had been holding without realizing it. The cock ring was now part of his body, just like the handcuffs and the gag. It grew and flowered like a vine, growing into and out of his flesh, wrapping about him, as if it had always been there, as if he had been waiting all his life for the moment when it would blossom.

Sir lowered the lights until Angel‟s eyes felt very comfortable, and then walked around the flogging post to face him. “How are you doing, boy?” He looked directly into Angel‟s eyes. Sir‟s eyes were so blue, so beautiful, his jaw strong, his nose straight. Angel‟s heart flooded with love.

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Why can’t you love me? Why can’t you be my daddy?

He nodded.

“Are you ready to be flogged?” Again he nodded.

Angel allowed his chin to drop onto his chest. With his arms stretched high overhead, it was impossible to see over his shoulder.

Angel stopped thinking and stopped trying to predict what would happen next.

He gave himself up to Sir and to the whip. What was about to play out could not be stopped. He wanted the whip. He wanted the pain. He wanted to experience the wonders he had read about and imagined for so long. He was in the moment with his master—the still, dark, comforting moment of communion.

When the first light stroke fell across his shoulders, he felt almost nothing.

Quickly he realized that a flogging would be like a spanking. A slow buildup of pain and pleasure.

It began.

“Breathe deeply and slowly, boy. Let your shoulders drop.”

Angel obeyed. Sir could see everything. He knew Angel had taken in a breath at the first stroke and failed to release it. Sir knew Angel needed support and encouragement.

The next stroke fell, and the next, and they stung. His body tensed momentarily, then let go. Again he tensed until the regular rhythm of the whip left him no need to tense. He knew precisely when the next stroke would come with its deliberate and perfect timing. Instead of being afraid, he could depend upon it, look forward to it, and absorb the weight and the strength of the perfectly balanced leather tail.

“That‟s my boy; that‟s a good boy.” Sir‟s words wrapped about him, as comforting as his blanket, as comforting as the whip caressing his shoulders.

The pain increased incrementally. The strokes of the whip fell across his shoulder blades, wrapping about his sides. Master landed each lash perfectly, slightly below the last until he was midway down Angel‟s back where, without pause, he worked his way up again. Angel began to moan softly as the pain increased. He bit down hard on the stem of the ball gag, pressing his tongue down.