#beating
“You either sing, or you scream. Your choice.”
Martin raised the cane, tapping it against Lev’s cheek, running it along the underside of his chin.
“No, please,” said Lev. He raised his hands slightly, in gentle surrender, trying to placate the man. Attempting to broadcast the right amount of subservience, despite already being on the concrete, on his knees.
It was better when he faced him, talked to him, played along. The man seemed to revel in his nervous obedience. And Lev was happy to give it, if there was any chance of being spared a beating.
“I don’t know what, what, uh, which song. What do you want me to sing?”
The look of disappointment that fell across Martin’s face was strange, as if he couldn’t believe Lev would let him down like this.
“Come on, now. I can’t do all the work for you.”
Lev hated that he was like this. Twenty-five, a fully-fledged, bona-fide, tax paying adult— to whom the begging, the kowtowing, the prostration came embarrassingly easily. Flinching at a stern voice. Coming to heel at the first mention of a firm hand.
He didn’t want to give in to the other man. He didn’t. He just didn’t want to be hurt. That was it.
He closed his eyes, and searched for the right note. Going with the first song that came to mind, one deep within his psyche. A favourite.
His voice shook at first, before he schooled it into something sturdier. He got through the first chorus with barely a waver, and then Lev could only cower, and curl, and try to shield himself with his arms as the rattan cane was brought down on him again, and again, and again, and again.The whistle and crackof it hitting a shoulder blade. The heavier thud as it hit a meatier part.
And then he could only lie on the floor, and bleed, and bruise.
“You said, nhh… you said you wouldn’t…”
“Wouldn’t what?”
“Promised…”
Martin tutted. “I made no promises, darling. Besides,” he said, wiping the blood from the cane with a cloth. “How can you expect me to resist, when you sing so sweetly…”
He stooped, and Lev would have been afraid, if he had the energy. Martin pressed a kiss to Lev’s temple.
“…but your screams are like music to my ears?”
Ready to listen
Pronta ad ascoltare
Female heartbeat streaming, resting | 27/03/2019
Listen, do you like it?
Heartbeat and pleasure
Do you like listening to your heartbeat while masturbating?
Have you ever done it?
A well-deserved beating. I’m finally happy!
Cobra Kai 3x5
A henchman pulls the Whumpee up from the floor with a yank under one of their bound arms. The Whumpee wobbles but doesn’t lose their balance as they find their footing, but they’re quickly pulled forward towards a door where the Whumper stands. The Whumper’s hands are held behind their own back, though unlike the Whumpee they do so of their own free will. The Whumpee manages to stop and hiss at the Whumper, who doesn’t return their gaze but merely turns their head to look at the floor near the Whumpee. “Did I pass your little test?” the battered Whumpee says before they are shoved out of the room. The Whumper stays very still as the door to the room shuts slowly, pushed closed by the bloodied hand of the Whumper’s second in command. “Test,” the Whumper repeats aloud, their head slowly raising and meeting the eyes of their partner. “You’re telling me,” number two says. “Here I thought it was the real deal.” The Whumper’s face shifts as they rub a hand across the back of their neck and pace slowly. “The only test here was yours. And you failed. Miserably.” The number two lifts their shoulders in a small shrug before opening their mouth to speak, but the insolence of their gesture causes the Whumper to suddenly close the distance between them and push them back against the wall. The Whumper’s forearm pins them in place as they grab a fistful of their shirt, while the other grabs the second in command’s face roughly. “There will be no more talk of tests, or practice rounds, or dry runs,” the Whumper growls. “He will be broken, and he will be broken in half, and those halves will be broken again. Do you understand me?” The second in command manages to push the Whumper off of themselves, then adjusts their shirt back to where it was as they catch their breath. “Not a test, but somehow there’s fractions. Got it.” The Whumper smooths their own clothes and goes to leave, but pauses with a hand on their door before opening it. “Turn this into a test of my patience, and we’ll do the math on what happens then.” They open the door and slam it behind them, leaving their number two to think through their next steps to try and break the Whumpee’s will.
