Advanced Flogging

[duke_of_illusions]

It's an early evening, back in the club. Barma has sent Al on his own, to make friends, to try something new.

Dodo is a breath away.

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[duke_of_illusions]

"Here. Arms up."

He'll show him on Al himself.

[al_truism]

Al flushes and follows orders instantly, without thought.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Good hit."

Light, swatting across the shoulders, with just the end of the flogger.

"Four inches deeper- bad hit."

The tails curl about him, lick the front of his ribs.

[al_truism]

It makes him shiver, and he has to stop himself from asking him to do it again.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Or there's the down one-"

Starting on his shoulders, sting dragging slowly down his back.

"Go brace up on the post, boy."

[al_truism]

"... sir."

He takes a deep breath and goes, pulling his hair over one shoulder and gripping the post.

[duke_of_illusions]

He starts, then- with slow, warming blows, letting the leather drag and shift over Al's skin like a buttery caress.

It doesn't even hurt, the way Gerard plays.

[al_truism]

He shivers and relaxes into it, tilting his head forward, breathing deeply. It's just enough to wake up his nerves, to make him feel it.

[duke_of_illusions]

It escalates, so slowly it almost isn't. Until suddenly he's really, really hitting him.

[al_truism]

The sting, the impact, the pain all seems to meld together in a blur of sensation.

He could swear the skin is gone. Al twists, keens softly.

[duke_of_illusions]

He stops. Steps in, and runs his hands over Al's burning back.

"You can't see me, but that was me hitting you as hard as I could, little thing."

[al_truism]

After the feeling, the touch of his hands is almost an overload. He's breathing hard, trembling like a fawn.

"... oh," is all he manages.

[duke_of_illusions]

He experiments for a few more minutes, rubbing, dragging his nails up and down.

"Good kid."

[al_truism]

The nails just feel like heat, like itching a terrible scratch. He groans out loud, all filter chipped away.

[duke_of_illusions]

The scratching turns into a deep grab, pinch, twist. Fuck.

[al_truism]

He cries out, loud and breathless and writhing. Sensory overload.

[duke_of_illusions]

He lets go, and then punches him, hard in the shoulder, timed on the exhale so he doesn't wind. A deep, vibrating fuck.

[al_truism]

The exhale turns into a small scream, and it shocks him enough to stagger him against the post. He obviously hadn't been expecting anything like that.

[duke_of_illusions]

He smiles and then helps him up, pulling him close for a big, protective bear-hug.

"Good boy."

[al_truism]

It takes him a few moments to breathe, but he melts into the hold, suddenly almost in tears.

Adrenaline.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Hey baby."

Snuggling him closer, moving to go sit down.

"You doing okay?"

[al_truism]

"Yes, yes, I just-"

He moves his hands, trying to articulate, ineffective.

"Needed that. Thank you."

[duke_of_illusions]

Al gets pulled into his warm lap, with a cuddle and purr.

[al_truism]

Al leans against his chest and manages to slowly calm down, remembering to breathe and focus, to remember.

"Am I very bruised?"

[duke_of_illusions]

"Can't tell yet. Depends how often he works your back."

Grinning.