The fire was warm, and the occasional crackle reminded Matty, as he drowsed on the sofa with a mug of hot water and bitters in his hand, of the sound of the ice breaking. He woke blearily to find Rob at the other end of the sofa, head resting on his fist, staring at the flames.
“Bill called. Kevin’s parents met them at the hospital. He’s going to be fine. Bill said when he left Kevin was still trying to convince him, with his parents listening and everything, that he would make a good third if Bill insisted on keeping Angus in his life. Bill said his parents blamed it on the hypothermia, but I’m fairly sure aggressive come-ons are just that kid’s get-laid plan.”
“Someone needs to teach him some subtlety,” Matty murmured into his cup before finishing his water.
“Not you.”
Matty laughed softly. “Seriously, though, when I’m not the least subtle person in the room, it’s time to reevaluate the possibility that the end times are coming.”
Rob took the empty mug. “You seem tired.”
“My shoulders are sore from pulling him out of the water.”
“Mine are sore from all those throws.”
Matty smiled, remembering the exhilaration of the height and speed. “Thank you for that. You made one of my dreams come true.”
“My pleasure, sweetheart.”
“Do you want a massage?”
Rob’s voice was warm with something more than just affection when he answered. “No, I was thinking you might want a massage. And maybe something more. Upstairs. In my room.”
Matty was tired and still a little sleepy, but the idea of Rob taking care of him, of possibly fucking his lingering uncomfortable thoughts away, was appealing. He reached up a hand and let Rob pull him to his feet. “Lead the way,” he said, dreamily.
Upon entering Rob’s bedroom, Matty saw that plans had been set into motion for the evening long before the skating incident. Apparently, Rob’s excuse to stay home earlier had been, at least in part, to have time to prepare for what he’d hoped the evening would be.
The room was darkened, and Rob struck a match to light candles. As the comforting scent of jasmine and vanilla lifted from the candles around him, Matty took in the dark sheets on the bed—the ones Rob liked because they showed Matty’s jizz better. A small table had been set up beside the bed, displaying lotion, lube, and rough-looking ropes Rob had never used on him before.
And there, on a carefully folded towel, lay two braided leather whips coiled beautifully.
Matty’s breath caught.
“Today didn’t go the way I planned,” Rob said. “If this isn’t what you want tonight—”
“Whips to ring in the New Year? I have a safeword,” Matty reminded him.
Rob nodded. “In that case, clothes off. Folded on the chair in the corner.”
Matty’s eyes didn’t stray from the whips as he pulled off Rob’s flannel shirt and tee and folded them as instructed. He glanced away long enough to get his tight skating leggings off and to straighten the pile of clothes, but then his eyes were back on the braided black and red leather.
One whip was a short–looking single-tail. The other was also short, but looked vicious, with three short laces dangling from the end, each with a sharp-pointed knot tied into it. He imagined those would bite. He shivered in the cool air of the bedroom and swallowed hard.
Rob crossed the room to him, still fully dressed in his sweater and blue jeans. He gripped Matty’s hair and jerked his head back, and Matty whimpered into Rob’s mouth as he took a rough kiss.
“I’ve been wanting this,” Rob muttered, “ever since you asked for it the first time. But it needed to be safe and it needed to be when I wasn’t angry with you, because I need you to understand very clearly why I’m doing it. It’s because you need it, because you need to feel something hard and unfair and disconnected from any pointless or petty frustration I have with you. Understand?”
Matty felt a rush of arousal at the promise of Rob’s words, followed by an urge to refute them, to rebel and claim he needed nothing of the sort. But the truth was there staring him in the face. He did need it and if he didn’t get it from Rob, he’d end up punishing himself with crummy performances and lazy training. What was he going to do when he left here? He needed this.
Rob grabbed Matty’s balls in a tight grip and squeezed. Matty felt himself flush red as he squealed in surprise and pain.
“Do you understand?” Rob asked again.
Sweat broke out all over Matty as he struggled not to beg for Rob to release his hold. “I understand.” His voice was breathless and high.
Rob nodded. “Come with me.” Leading Matty by the grip on his balls, he took him into the bathroom. “Get in the bathtub. On your hands and knees.”
Matty balls ached a little as he knelt down in the tub. He looked up at Rob, whose expression was calm and impassive. He smiled softly at Matty after a moment’s regard.
“Hands and knees.”
Matty leaned forward, the hard tub hurt knees and felt cold on his palms.
“Relax. I’m in charge.”
Matty took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then allowed his neck to relax so that his head hung down.
“Good boy,” Rob said warmly, as his hand trailed down Matty’s back. “Now I’ll turn on the water and insert the enema tube.”
Matty closed his eyes and took slow breaths. He’d used Rob’s shower system before to get clean, but Rob had never done it for him. It seemed intimate and raw. He felt himself drop into a quiet place in his head, open, waiting, and receptive. The enema nozzle pressed against him, warm from the heat of the water, and Matty moaned as Rob loosened the valve and the familiar, hot rush flooded him.
“That’s it, that’s good,” Rob said, rubbing his lower back and buttocks as the water filled Matty up. “There. That’s about all you can take.”
He pulled the head out of Matty’s ass, and Matty reflexively clenched his anal muscles to hold the water inside. Rob sat down beside the tub and pulled his phone out from his pocket. “Timer is set for ten minutes. Think you can manage it?”
Matty nodded, though he was already feeling the urge to release.
“Good.”
Rob looked at his phone some more, sent a few texts, and then put it aside. He turned his full attention back to Matty.
“Okay?”
Matty nodded and held his ass clenched tight.
Rob knelt beside the tub and pulled his sweater off to toss in the clothes hamper behind him. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, releasing his cock, and stroked it slowly.
“You are so hot,” he muttered. “Here on your hands and knees for me, taking what I give you. Your body is amazing.” He ran one hand down Matty’s back, fingering the skin over his ribs and spine. “The way you’re put together. Your muscles. Your bones.”
Matty wanted desperately to snark about his weight and Rob’s belief that he could put some on, but he found it difficult to speak. He’d already fallen so far into the quiet space in his head where there was only Rob’s voice, a vague cramping in his gut, and the concentration it took to keep from releasing before he should.
“Your ass,” Rob said, his voice deep and rough. “God, your ass.”
Matty made a soft noise as Rob lifted him up to a standing position and turned on the shower. The warm water pelted down, and he hadn’t realized he’d been so cold. He turned around so that he was facing Rob, the water sluicing down his back, over his buttocks and thighs. Standing made it more difficult to repress the urge to expel, but he managed it, taking a deep breath and controlling himself.
“How long has it been?” Matty asked softly.
Rob flicked a glance toward his phone. “Three minutes.”
Matty nodded. In some ways it seemed longer and in others shorter. He closed his eyes and let the water slide over him.
He heard Rob flick open a shampoo bottle and he bent his head to give Rob better access to his hair.
“Bend your knees.”
Matty did, and the shift made the pressure in his lower abdomen stronger.
“Good. Now hold that position until I tell you to move. Keep your eyes closed and breathe.”
Matty shifted his feet and then stood as still as possible. Rob took his time soaping his hair, pulling the extra down over his shoulders and back, washing the sparse hairs on his chest, and then dragging the shampoo down to his treasure trail, using all of the suds.
“Straighten and rinse.”
Matty rinsed off, and that was when the first strong cramp hit, the urge to push the enema water out of his ass nearly overwhelming. He took a long breath, bending over to grip his knees and breathe through it.
“That’s my good boy,” Rob said gently. “You can do this.”
Matty nodded, inhaling slow and long, until he could stand straight again and finish rinsing his hair.
Then Rob uncapped the conditioner. After Matty had rinsed it out, Rob turned off the water, took his hand and led him out of the shower. He turned to the light switches and flipped on the one for the heat lamp, which warmed the room quickly given that it was already steamy from the shower. Matty shifted between his feet, the pressure building inside him, taking up more of his concentration.
“Here,” Rob said, toweling him off gently before guiding him to the toilet. “You’ve got two minutes left. Sit here but keep it in.”
The toilet seat felt cool against Matty’s ass and slick from humidity. Rob crouched down in front of him and pushed the wet hair out of his face, studying him carefully.
Matty whispered, “You can leave now. I promise I’ll wait the two minutes.”
Rob smiled, a white flash that was kind and yet unrelenting. “Oh, I’m not leaving. You’re doing this for me, Matty. All of it. Don’t forget that.”
Heat flashed through Matty’s entire body, and sweat broke out all over him. Rob had seen him in so many states of vulnerability—even on the toilet before, but only in passing. He’d never had Rob sitting in front of him, holding his hands, and staring at his face as he held back the urge to let fouled enema water erupt from his ass. He’d never thought that Rob would want to see that, or that he’d be expected to share such a disgusting, private moment.
He wasn’t hard, and he could see from Rob’s exposed dick that he wasn’t hard either. This wasn’t about that, apparently. It was about something else.
“Why?” Matty asked, groaning and shifting on the toilet as he worked to hold back the rising pressure against his anus. His gut cramped again, and he gasped. By now, if he was alone, he’d have released. He’d never held it this long. He never really had to. With his diet, his colon was usually clean and easy to prepare, but that wasn’t what this was about, either.
“Because I want it. That’s all that matters right now. What I want. Not what you want or what you understand. What matters on the ice? What your coach wants. What the judges want. No one cares what Matty Marcus wants. Not on the ice and not right now. You’re not in charge here, Matty. I am.”
“Unless I use my safeword.”
Rob nodded.
Matty closed his eyes and worked hard to hold the water inside. He thought about his safeword, rolled it around in his head, and suddenly he wondered what his safeword was for the ice. Did he have one? If his boyfriend Figure Skating was going to beat the hell out of him, didn’t he have the right to a safeword? If he did, what would it be?
Rob.
“One minute,” Rob said.
Matty whimpered, gripped Rob’s hands, and bent over so his face was hidden.
“Uh-uh. Look up. Open your eyes. Look at me.”
Matty didn’t know if he could do that. He couldn’t look at Rob while shit and water poured out of his ass into the toilet. It was too much—too humiliating. He swallowed hard and considered the whips on the bed, and how much he wanted them. He wondered if he’d get to use them if he safeworded out of this part of the night.
Matty lifted his chin and looked into Rob’s green eyes, and took slow, long breaths, but he felt his face crumpling as he fought to hold on the last little bit.
“Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen…” Rob counted softly.
As soon as “one” left Rob’s mouth, Matty released. He stared at Rob’s face, a flood of hot embarrassment rolling through him as the water purged from his bowels. He felt a flicker of anger deep down wanting to roar into a flame, a rage and a rebelliousness that wanted to tear up into the moment, spit in Rob’s face, and tell him to fuck off.
But Matty held it down, tamped it back, and concentrated on showing Rob whatever he wanted to see. If that was this moment, right now, vulnerable and gross on the toilet, then he’d let Rob have that, dammit. Fine. Fuck him. And just as soon as he surrendered the anger, he felt something inside himself break and heal.
Matty didn’t know how much of his struggle showed on his own face. He was always an open book, so he knew it was probably most of it, but Rob’s face remained steady, warm, and calm. There was little to no reaction from him, aside from a smile as Matty collapsed, sweaty and still cramping a little, against his shoulder, tucking his face against Rob’s neck and shuddering on the toilet.
“You did a great job. I’m proud of you,” Rob whispered.
He reached behind Matty and flushed the toilet, and let Matty rest against him for a few moments. “Now wipe and get back into the shower.”
The shower this time was, for the most part, perfunctory. Rob handed him a washcloth and soap and watched intently as Matty washed everywhere. Only near the end did Rob reach into the shower, take the soap and washcloth away, and tell Matty to put his hands against the wall. Carefully, with a great deal of care, Rob washed Matty’s buttocks, crack, and asshole, and then told him to turn around. The same amount of gentleness was applied to Matty’s dick.
“Nice work,” Rob murmured as he carefully dried Matty off after the shower. “Ready for that massage?”
Matty let Rob hold him close and kiss his neck and cheek before he nodded and followed Rob into the bedroom again.
***
After the massage, Matty was loose and warm. He lay on top of the sheets on his stomach, languidly rubbing his now definitely hard dick against the soft material beneath him. Rob hadn’t told him he couldn’t, so he took what he could get.
Every once in a while, as Rob had worked on his muscles, he’d been hit by a wave of excruciating embarrassment that Rob had watched him on the toilet as the enema had exploded out of him. It occurred to him that the humiliation and accompanying rage was like being in the Kiss and Cry, waiting for the scores he knew were going to be lower than he needed. Waiting for the proof that he really wasn’t good enough. Was a disaster. A mess.
But Rob had been there for him in the bathroom. Matty had let him see those things because he’d demanded it, and Rob had somehow adored him through the ugliness of it all. Why couldn’t it be like that with skating too? Why was it only here, in Rob’s care, that he could feel safe enough to move past those feelings of shame into exquisite vulnerability? He could never trust his audience or his judges enough to give them that. Could he?
“On your back.”
Matty rolled over, his eyes slitted dreamily. He watched Rob, who was now in just his boxer-briefs, lift up the lengths of rope he’d noted earlier. It wasn’t soft rope, but rough, the kind of rope that Rob used in the barns. It wasn’t thick, but it would rub against his wrists and hurt if he pulled.
Rob ran his fingers over it, a considering expression on his face. “This isn’t going to be an easy night for you.”
Matty’s heart, which had settled into a slow thump-thump during the massage, now lurched. He felt a shot of heat rise up from his groin through his chest to burn in his cheeks. His cock took up the beat of his heart, thudding against his belly.
“You remember your safeword.”
It wasn’t really a question. Rob was simply reminding him that he could end the night at any point. Matty nodded. “I remember it.”
“Good. Then we’ll begin.”
Rob bent Matty’s left leg up to his chest and used his shoulder to hold it there as he tied Matty’s left wrist to his ankle. The rope was itchy and dug into his skin. Rob shifted his bent leg out, and then used another rope behind Matty’s knee to bind it to the headboard. Once Rob repeated these bindings on the right side, Matty was spread helplessly on the bed with his hard cock, balls, and ass open to whatever Rob wanted to do with them.
Rob ran his hand over Matty’s legs, dragging the hairs backward—a small discomfort in comparison to the rough rope on this wrists and ankles. Matty’s pulse beat fast with the rush of excitement and dread at being so vulnerably exposed.
“Pull on the ropes.”
Matty did, and they dug into him but gave him almost no leeway with his body. He could hunch up a little or use his stomach muscles to lift his ass up a bit, but he was otherwise held in place.
“Good.” Rob smiled as he ran his hand over Matty’s body, lingering to rub the pads of his thumbs over Matty’s nipples. Then he moved back to the small table he’d set up by the bed. He lifted the blindfold.
“I want you to be loud,” Rob said as he placed it. “Don’t hold back your noises. I want to hear them all.”
Matty nodded. The darkness behind the blindfold was complete and Matty sank into it. He breathed in and out through his nose and waited for something to happen. In the quiet, he could hear Rob stroking his own cock. Matty could imagine how he looked to Rob, tied and naked, hard for him, blindfolded and completely at Rob’s mercy. Matty remembered the tight coil of the whips on the table. Would they be next? Would he be able to deal with them?
Rob trailed his fingers over Matty’s cock and then gripped his balls again. Matty went very still as Rob increased the pressure, and whimpers stole out of his throat. Then Rob slid thin, rough rope over Matty’s balls. Matty’s pulse throbbed in his ears as Rob circled it around his sac, separated his balls, and pulled the rope tight enough that Matty gasped. Then he crisscrossed the rope up Matty’s aching cock, the almost straw-like texture rubbing and pricking into him.
He tied it off underneath the head of Matty’s cock. Then a sharp pain rocked through Matty from the tip of his dick, shuddering through his abdomen and up to his throat. He yelled. It took him a moment to realize that Rob had flicked his cockhead with his finger—hard.
A shock of fear touched him. The flick was so unexpected, so unfair that it hurt him emotionally and he felt unsafe. Rob’s hand gripping his restrained balls didn’t take that fear away, especially not when Rob let go and flicked his balls, one after the other. Matty cried out, his muscles going taut and his asshole tightening up.
“Shh,” Rob said near his ear. “You can handle it. I know you can.”
Matty shivered, and when Rob kissed his mouth, licking gently at his lip and soothing him, his fingers tracing Matty’s jawline and the slight stubble on this chin that had grown in since that morning, he wished he could wrap his arms around Rob and hold him tight until the pain went away. Instead, he tried to relax into his restraints, to show Rob he was right.
He could handle this.
Rob pulled away and came back with a slick hand on Matty’s cock. He rubbed lotion up and down over the rope. Matty squirmed, the sensation weird and uncomfortable. The rope hurt as his cock expanded under Rob’s ministrations, and the sharp threads dug into his tender skin. His balls drew tight and ached where they were restrained. Then Rob began to vigorously work a place right under his cockhead that felt amazing. Matty groaned, tossed his head, and squeezed his eyes shut hard under the blindfold.
The sensation built and built, riding through him until he was sure he was going to come. He shouted a warning to Rob, who kept on rubbing him until Matty was so close to the edge he wasn’t going to be able to stop from going over it. He tensed and held on tight, ready for the bright, goodness of orgasm, when suddenly Rob let go of his cock and flicked his balls again.
Matty screamed. Rob grabbed a fistful of his hair and kissed him through it, swallowing all the noise Matty let loose. Taking in the pain, the disappointment, the relief—all of it. When Matty could breathe again, he felt Rob’s fingers toying with his asshole and he pushed against them, wanting them inside. Rob laughed softly and pulled them away, but he kissed Matty’s nose, cheekbones, and ears, and then kissed his lips again.
“That was the easy part,” Rob said.
Matty swallowed and tried to laugh, but it came out all messy and tainted with fear. He heard a sound that could only be leather sliding on leather, and then he felt the cool braid against his stomach. Rob slid it over him slowly, giving him a chance to feel it and anticipate how it was going to hurt.
“This is a quirt. Back in the old days some men used it to train horses, but it was most commonly used to drive cattle. It’s designed for thick skinned animals. It’s got three long lashes at the end that sting, and there are knots at the end of those that bite. It’ll mark your skin. It will hurt. You will scream and probably beg for me to stop. You remember your safeword?”
Matty was so deep into the darkness behind the mask, so inside himself in a place of terrified and thrilled expectation that he couldn’t speak or move. It wasn’t until Rob touched his face and asked again that he was able to summon his breath to say, “Yes. I remember.”
“And you will use it if you need it.”
“Yes.”
“That’s an order.”
“Yes.”
Matty didn’t know how long he could stand the anticipation. He wanted to feel the whip against his skin, but not knowing where it would bite into him, not knowing where it would fall or how much it would hurt or when was agony. He shifted against the sheets, tugged lightly on the rough restraints, and whispered, “Please do it.”
Rob lifted the quirt from Matty’s stomach and placed a hand on Matty’s outstretched left knee. “Hold very still. Don’t move.”
The first lash was hard. Fire raced over his ass where it had landed along the line of his buttocks and thigh, just under his balls, close enough that the pain seemed to ricochet into them and rage up his entire body. Matty didn’t know why he had thought Rob would build up to the pain, but the realization that Rob was going to actually hurt him with the whips rocked him down to his bones. He put up a struggle in earnest, pulling at the ropes, trying to kick with his feet, screaming his head off in an urgent need to fight his way out of the moment.
Rob let him struggle. There were no words of comfort, no soothing touches, just silence as Matty bucked and fought, his skin rubbing raw on the ropes.
Matty shuddered and heaved and finally collapsed. The ropes had won, and he surrendered to the panic and fear that flooded him. Rob touched his arm then, sliding down to secure the ropes a little tighter. Then there was the terrifying sound of wind and whip and the three biting knots tore across the back of Matty’s right thigh, then his left, then across his ass again. Matty shook and fought the ropes, he cursed and yelled and screamed, and he had the safeword right there on his tongue but he swallowed it back.
Rob counted out the lashes, but Matty could barely hear the words over the sound of his own begging, sobs, and whimpers. His pulse rushed in his ears, his heart was loud and beating wildly, heat seared through his skin all over, and his ass burned like he’d never felt before. The most his father had ever given him was one fast whack with a belt on two occasions, and this was so far beyond that, so far beyond what Matty had expected that he didn’t quite know what to do. He wanted to safeword, but he didn’t. It felt like he had fallen so deep inside himself that that he didn’t know if he ever wanted Rob to stop hitting him. It was awful, but it somehow felt right.
“Okay?” Rob’s voice was breathless.
Matty whimpered and tried to nod his head. He thought he’d managed it, but then Rob touched his cheek.
“Okay, Matty?”
“Yes.” He sounded drunk, the word was slurred and he laughed, deliriously adding, “Offisher,” and then, “Yesh, offisher, I’m okay.”
Rob rubbed a hand through his hair, which Matty realized was no longer wet from the shower, but wet with sweat. He felt Rob rub a tissue under his nose, wiping away snot from where he’d been crying.
“Good to hear it,” Rob whispered. “You’re so good at this. You’re doing a great job.”
Matty hiccupped on a small sob. “Am I?”
“Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea.”
“Tell me.”
“You are so beautiful and strong. You’re doing a wonderful job.”
Matty whispered, “Thank you.”
“Now a little break, and then you’ll take some more.”
Matty trembled at the thought of more. He had never felt the kind of pain that the quirt had inflicted—so raw, nasty, and biting, and the sting had been overwhelming. He didn’t think he could handle it.
Matty felt the bed dip and Rob settle below him. Rob’s hands soothed over Matty’s ass cheeks and he blew gently on Matty’s hole. Shivering, Matty moaned at Rob’s tongue dancing over his asshole, licking and tickling, shoving in and fucking into his ass. He squirmed on it and pushed to try to get Rob’s tongue in deeper. But Rob pulled away and then he was pushing his cockhead into Matty in a sudden, surprising move.
Matty bore down to take him in, the sting of Rob’s thick cock hard to take with just a little spit as lube. Rob pulled out and rubbed Matty’s asshole with the pad of his thumb. Then the mattress shifted.
“Okay.” Rob sounded excited and a little strained. “This is a short single tail. It’s easy to control and lays a stingy thud. It’s not as biting because it isn’t knotted, but it’s sharp. Especially on tender places like this.”
Matty arched, cock pulsing against the harsh rope as Rob snapped the end of the single tail against Matty’s anus. It was shocking and so painful that Matty couldn’t breathe. Another snap landed across his hole, jerking him against the ropes.
“Here we go,” Rob said. “This is the real thing.”
Matty had no idea what that could mean when he was already lost in a world of hurt, and then the count began. He had never felt pain like that before. Sharp, burning, tearing into him until he was shaking and yet his cock was pulsing, his balls were aching, and his asshole trembled.
Sound filled the air: Rob’s harsh breaths, Matty’s screams, the whip hitting skin, and the keening howls of Lila from downstairs, reacting to Matty’s cries of pain. The whole room was alive with the intensity and power between them. Matty felt the ropes cutting into his arms and legs, and only then understood that he was still struggling, trying to get away from the whip.
Rob took hold of his leg, and then a short, fast, tight strike landed against his bound balls. Matty felt sweat break over him followed by pure, roaring agony, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but try not to black out.
Then Rob was near his ear whispering, “Okay? Are you doing all right, sweetheart?”
Matty sobbed and shook his head no. He wasn’t. He couldn’t do this.
“Safeword?”
Matty gritted his teeth together, sweat stinging his eyes and running down his face. He shook his head.
Rob gently rubbed his hands over Matty’s legs, down his arms, and then he lifted the blindfold off. Matty kept his eyes closed, his body shaking and his cock pounding painfully against the restraint of the rope. He hurt all over. He could barely find his own thoughts as far down as he was in his own body, aching and hurting, burning and stinging, and underneath it all a deep, welling urgent need for something to release—something to break.
Rob touched his cheek. “Look at me.”
Matty’s breath hitched and small sobs trembled through him as he fluttered his eyes open. His lashes stuck together with wetness. Rob dabbed his eyes with a soft tissue and wiped his nose again.
Rob’s face was calm and deeply affectionate. “You’ve been amazing, sweetheart. You deserve a reward now.”
Matty didn’t understand, but some part of him was disappointed. It couldn’t be over yet. He wasn’t quite there. He could feel it, deep inside him, the place he needed to have cracked open, forced to the surface, and defeated under the whip. He needed it.
“No,” he whispered. “More. Please, more.”
Rob bent low and kissed him. He was gentle and loving, his tongue moving sweetly along Matty’s lip and against his teeth. He kissed Matty’s sweat-soaked neck and then down to his nipples, before kneeling on the bed at Matty’s side and untying the ropes around his cock and balls.
Matty tensed and hissed, the release of his bound genitals hurting even more than the binding. His dick felt scraped and raw from the rope, and when Rob took it into his cool, lube-slick hand, Matty whimpered. It was pleasure mixed with pain, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted Rob to let go or keep touching him.
It wasn’t his choice anyway. Rob moved his hand, stroking and releasing, teasing the tip and smearing the pre-come that leaked from Matty’s cock.
“Watch me,” Rob said when Matty let his eyes drift shut. “Look at my face.”
It was hard to keep his eyes on Rob when his ass and the backs of his thighs burned and ached, when his hamstrings were stretched and angry, when his balls were still thudding, and his asshole was hot with pain.
“Are you hurting, Matty?” Rob asked, his lashes shading his eyes.
“Yes,” Matty whispered.
“Is it really bad?”
Matty choked on a small sob and nodded. He stared at Rob’s face, the curve of his jaw, the flush in his cheeks. Matty’s cock responded to the touch of Rob’s fingers and hands, and he started to feel the needful rush of pleasure piggybacking on the pain.
“Have you ever hurt like this before?”
Matty shook his head, sweat sliding down his forehead and tickling his cheek.
“What about the Olympics? Did you hurt like this when you fucked it all up?”
Matty remembered the rage that had risen in him when he realized he wasn’t going to win. How he’d purposely let himself fall rather than lose for anything less than a royal fuck-up. Because it would’ve hurt too much otherwise.
“No,” Rob said. “You didn’t let yourself hurt like this did you?”
Matty shook his head.
Rob let go of Matty’s cock, the sweetness of pleasure ebbing as Rob sat calmly by Matty’s ass, looking down at him and taking him in. Matty felt far away and close at the same time. He could see himself in his mind’s eye, spread out, exposed, his balls and cock tight and straining, his ass and the backs of his thighs red from being struck, and his face a mess of tears and snot. He was helpless there, vulnerable, and so close, but so far, from what he needed.
Rob reached for lube, slicked his own cock, and then pressed into Matty’s asshole. Groaning, Matty bit his lip and bore down to take him in all the way to the hilt. Rob’s thighs and hips felt cool against the heat of Matty’s whipped ass. Matty wished he could touch Rob—feel his chest or back under his palms—and he struggled against the ropes a little, feeling the dig of them into his skin, but almost oblivious now to the way it hurt.
Rob took Matty’s mouth in a kiss and began thrusting. It hurt where his hips smacked against Matty’s wounds, and Matty cried out into Rob’s mouth with each thrust. Rob didn’t slow. He fucked Matty hard and fast, grunting and pulling away enough to brush sweaty hair from Matty’s forehead. Then he kissed him again. Matty whimpered and took Rob’s cock, the pressure on his prostate sending up flares of pleasure mixed with the slap of pain as Rob rocked into him.
Rob whispered in his ear, “I love you, Matty. You are so strong and beautiful. You take my breath away.” He groaned.
Matty felt the ratcheting up of tension in Rob’s tight thrusts, in the way he dug into Matty, and then Rob’s cock pulsed and thudded in him as Rob cried out his pleasure against Matty’s cheek.
Rob kissed him again. “You’re doing great. So proud of you. You’re taking this so well.”
Matty felt an odd sense of dissatisfaction, like he wanted to disagree with Rob. He wanted to tell him that he hadn’t been good enough yet, that he hadn’t broken through to where he needed to go. There was still pain and fear he needed to truly touch. It was there, like water under ice. It was cold and teeming and full of death, and Matty needed a hole cracked through to it. But Rob thought he’d done so well. He couldn’t beg for more. He couldn’t let Rob down.
If this was all he was going to get, then it was all he deserved.
Rob pulled out, and Matty gasped as his tender asshole stung and twitched. Rob kissed his inner thigh and cock, and then he took hold of it and met his eyes again.
“This is it. You’re going to come now.”
Matty nodded, keeping his eyes on Rob’s face. Rob’s hand worked him until he was straining up for more. His body ached distractingly, and he had to focus his mind again and again on the pleasure brought by Rob’s fingers pressing into his ass, rubbing against his prostate, and on the up and down, slippery lubed slide of Rob’s hand.
He tossed his head back, arching up, reaching for the beautiful oblivion of orgasm. He was suddenly urgently aware that he wanted to be untied, that he wanted to be in Rob’s arms, comforted and loved, and to get there he needed to come.
“I love you,” he whispered, staring up at Rob. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Rob kissed the side of his knee and worked harder with his hands.
“Oh God, I’m almost…please, Rob, that’s…yes, please!”
Rob’s flushed face remained gentle and calm as he said, “Should I ruin it?”
Matty didn’t understand for a moment, but then he felt Rob’s fingers leave his ass, and Rob’s grip on his cock go loose. His heart kicked hard. He’d hurt so much and Rob had said this was his reward. He deserved it, didn’t he?
No.
But he wanted it. He wanted it now that he could feel the coil of pleasure in his gut and the thud of his need in every cell of his body.
Even if he didn’t deserve it, he wanted it.
“I’ve been good!” Matty cried, tears stinging his eyes and the words surprising him. He sounded so young and desperate. He sounded terrified.
After all the pain he’d endured, what if Rob didn’t let him come?
“Please, Rob, I’ve been so good.”
“You have been good,” Rob said. “You’ve been amazing.”
“Thank you,” Matty gasped, moving his hips desperately with Rob’s tightening hand. “Thank you.”
“But amazing isn’t always enough.”
With Rob’s hand moving relentlessly on his freed cock, Matty spiraled into the beautiful, tense, aching place where there was no coming back. He strained for the orgasm, reached for it and cried out.
“And you don’t get to decide.” Rob slid his hand up—and let go.
Matty bellowed and twisted against the ropes, his orgasm sweeping over him. Then pain ripped through the pleasure as Rob slashed his ass with the quirt again and again, each throb of his cock punctuated with agony that took his breath away and choked him with tears—the pleasure stolen and the pain taking it all.
***
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he was untied in Rob’s arms, safe and strong. He was still crying and shaking, and saying, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” over and over though he didn’t know exactly why.
He only knew that at the very end, Rob had done it. He’d broken through the ice, and the feelings under it were too strong for Matty to handle on his own. There was so much fear, so much guilt, sorrow, and humiliation. So much self-loathing, and a desperate, consuming need for forgiveness.
“It’s okay, Matty, I’ve got you,” Rob whispered, rubbing his back and kissing his temple.
Matty curled into Rob’s arms and clung to him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again. “I’m sorry.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.”
Matty felt his heart break as another wave of emotion sloshed up, a swell of something small and needy, almost childlike in its bottomless fear.
As time passed in a haze, more swells of ugly feeling rose in him, breaking again and again, shuddering through his body and shivering across his skin. He cried like he had never cried before, and Rob held him, soothed him and whispered that he was okay. That nothing Matty ever did or didn’t do would make him anything less than okay—anything less than amazing. That he was strong, brave, and beautiful.
“You’re strong enough to let yourself hurt, Matty. That’s the strongest person there is.” He kissed him again. “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”
It was a long time before Matty calmed enough to drink some water, and even longer before Rob could smear thick aloe over Matty’s ass and the back of his thighs. He brought food, and Matty didn’t say a word about calories as he gobbled it up. He was too exhausted. He felt scrubbed raw, inside and out—like everything dirty about him had been flayed under Rob’s whips and washed away in his own tears.
When Rob helped him to the shower to wash away the sweat, Matty almost didn’t recognize himself in the mirror. His face was puffy from crying, his eyes red-rimmed, and when he turned for a glimpse of his ass, he gasped at how red it was. But he was shocked that there were no welts. The pain had been so intense, he was certain he’d have welts or broken skin. Yet there were only sharp, red lines and some darkening bruises.
“You’ll still have some bruises tomorrow,” Rob murmured. “But they’ll fade away completely in a few days.”
Matty wanted to ask how Rob knew that. Had he used the whips on someone before? Had someone used them on him when he was experimenting with dominance and submission after his parents’ death? Why did that bother Matty? Rob needed to be practiced at these things to be safe, and yet the idea that anyone else might have been as vulnerable with Rob as Matty had just let himself be was somehow terrifying. Matty wanted to be the only one Rob had ever taken that far.
After the shower, Rob applied more aloe and went downstairs to make dinner. Matty distantly heard the sound of the back door opening and then the thump-thump-thump of Lila’s feet on the stairs. She bounded up onto the bed and then approached him cautiously.
“Hey girl,” Matty whispered. His voice sounded scratchy and worn. “Come here.”
She scooted across to him and rolled on her back next to his leg, exposing her brown and white stomach. Matty rubbed the soft fur on her chest. Her eyes closed, and Matty shut his own. The sounds of Rob in the kitchen drifted up, all light clatters and the opening and closing of cupboards, and Matty felt warm and tired. His body ached and his soul felt worn, but he was filled with a sense of hard-won peace.
Eventually the scent of Rob’s mother’s Southwestern Chili Burger and Bean Soup drifted up to him, and he fell asleep next to Lila with a smile on his face and the memory of Rob watching him eat at the Pages’ house on that cold day in October filling his mind.
***
Training at the rink in Whitefish the next day, Matty rubbed his fingers over his chafed wrists and remembered Rob waking him that morning with kisses, soft words of praise, and a hot, slow, delicious blow job that left Matty feeling relaxed.
“Remember what we did last night,” Rob had said as he sent Matty on his way to care for the horses. “Remember that you’re brave enough to hurt. Don’t let yourself give less than you’re capable of giving.”
Matty took several turns on the ice, getting accustomed to the way his bruised ass and thighs pulled and ached as he moved. Breathing through the discomfort, he executed several doubles and triples without much trouble. Then he went up for a quad.
The ice smacked his bruised ass hard and tears stung his eyes.
Amazing isn’t good enough.
Quads had become the mark of champions in the time Matty had been away. He stood up, stuck his chin in the air, and tried again. This time in his mind he was competing against Alex and Vance at Nationals. He could imagine the crowd, the expectant hush and restrained applause, and when he fell again, he could almost hear the gasp of disappointment. He slapped his thigh as he stood up, recalling the pain of the whip.
His heart hammered as he circled the rink, went up, and fell again.
“Dammit,” he cursed.
Why was he even doing this? He could just go home to Rob and eat soup until he got fat as a hog and roll around in Rob’s love and affection. He could call out the safeword on this skating bullshit, walk out of the rink, and never come back. He could do that.
But he wouldn’t.
You can’t skate if you don’t fall, he remembered telling Rob.
Memories of the night before flooded him and he ducked his head to hide his flushed cheeks. He’d put it all on the line for Rob, and even though he’d had his pleasure stripped from him at the last second, he wouldn’t change what they’d done. Rob’s arms around him, the struggle to express the wells of emotion the whips had opened up in him—all of it had been worth feeling, worth doing. Even the pain. Especially the pain.
He pushed around the ice, gaining momentum. “You can’t win if you’re not willing to lose, Matty,” he whispered to himself.
It was all there somehow, tied up inside him—pain and reward, winning and losing, rage and joy, self-loathing and satisfaction. He had found them all the night before, teeming below the surface. He held the lessons close now, a strange set of new, inspiring friends, and he whispered, “Don’t safeword, Matty. You can do this.”
He tried again.