Anthology Toy Box Flogger

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Torquere Press

www.torquerepress.com

First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2008

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Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

CONTENTS

Double Dog Dare
Number One
Testing Leather
Contributors' Bios

* * * *

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Definition: A multi-tongue whipping implement specially

made to use for such fetish and/or erotic BDSM flogging,
usually of the cat o' nine tails-, scourge- or martinet-type,
and often so called, but often made more decorative (e.g.
colorful) and sometimes in less cruel materials than tough
leather, such as soft-fibred cord; a miniature version for male
genitorture is called ball whip.

Source: Wikipedia en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flogger
Etymology: 1676, slang, perhaps a schoolboy shortening

of L. flagellare "flagellate."

Source: Online Etymology Dictionary

www.etymonline.com/index.php?search=flog&searchmode=n
one

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Double Dog Dare

By Chris Owen
Rex was trying to decide if it was time to head home or if

he really wanted to grab another bag of chips and a beer. The
party had reached that odd turning point where it was going
to crash out or get cranked up, and Rex had to weigh his
options carefully. There were people all over the place, inside
and out, sprawling or dancing or just goofing off. The voices
were loud, the music was louder, and he was pretty sure
some of the girls were trying to psych each other up to get
into the hot tub naked.

If there were naked girls out back, he was going to stay

inside, thanks.

He spotted a bowl of chips on a table near the front door

and headed that way, but got pressed into the wall near the
kitchen for a minute by someone who was stumbling around.
By the time Rex had pushed the body away, feeling oddly like
the bumpers in a pinball machine, he'd lost sight of the chip
bowl.

Rex was standing there, hoping another one would appear,

when a voice laughed louder and sharper than the rest.
"Right, like you would. Don't bullshit me, man."

The living room filled with mock gasps of outrage and

horror, some guys laughing, some already reaching for their
wallets to make their bets. If there was one thing that
everyone other than the obviously clueless guest knew, it was
that Dog never turned down a dare. Ever.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Rex watched as a space formed around Dog, a ring of

grinning fools who held onto their drinks and gleefully called
out how much they were betting that Dog would or wouldn't
do the dare. There was so much joy at watching a fool doing
something stupid for their entertainment that it made Rex
shake his head and turn away. He really was getting too old
for these parties. But he thought better of skipping the whole
show and turned once more, an idea starting to take shape at
the back of his mind. Dog, after all, was worth looking at, and
he certainly didn't back down from an adventure.

Dog looked around, holding his place, king of the castle.

"No bullshit." He grinned, rocking back and forth on his heels
with the loose-limbed grace that only the very drunk can
attain. "Give it to me. This stuff is easy; eating gross shit is a
specialty of mine."

The hooting picked up and the most sober of the crowd

headed to another room, probably unwilling to watch the
demise of a poor goldfish. Not that Rex could blame them for
that part, but they didn't have to worry. "It's already dead!"
Dog called, as Jeff and Mark vanished into the kitchen.

"That's worse. God, man." Jeff lifted his beer bottle in a

salute and firmly turned his back. "Are you going to watch
that, Rex? Come on, Lucky has some pot out back, I heard."

Rex shook his head. "Not this time, but thanks. I'm going

to take off in a bit, I think, especially if Dog hurls." Even the
ghost of his idea wouldn't stand up to that.

The new guy, some friend of a friend of a friend, was

making with the fishface and had wide eyes by the time Dog
finally had the crowd worked up to shouting. "All right!" Dog

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

yelled over them all. "Here we go!" Then he grinned around
the room and swallowed the late Mr. Swim.

The crowd cheered their approval and money started

changing hands, but the newbie's eyes were huge and he kind
of shuddered all over. "Dude. That's disgusting."

"Nah. Disgusting is the next part. You don't think I'm going

to let a dead fish stay in me, do you?" Dog winked and
started to laugh as the room cleared, his eyes rolling in Rex's
direction.

There was an actual scramble as people tried to get out

the door in twos and threes. Rex had often noted that those
who could stay to watch things go in usually didn't stick
around to watch things come back out.

Dog shrugged and looked around the now deserted room,

then picked up an empty beer cup. "You might not want to
look, man."

Rex shrugged. "Whatever." He stayed where he was,

leaning on the wall by the kitchen door. "Turn around,
though. Maybe it's not so gross if I don't have to see it."

"And people say I'm weird..." Dog turned his back though

and made a wet noise, then spat. He did it again and turned
around, lifting the cup triumphantly. "Things I like about
these parties include big plastic beer cups that are empty and
thus I didn't have to waste a good drink by spitting Mr. Swim
back out into my beer. I did that once, you know. There
wasn't anywhere else."

Rex shook his head slowly. "You always seem so normal at

work, you know? I mean, I've known you for what, three
years now? I've watched you through four hair colors, two

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

relationships, three college majors, and one thesis proposal.
And here you are, still taking dares to swallow dead things."

Dog looked thoughtful for a moment and then beamed at

him. "Yep. It's what I do, man. Hey, gimme a couple minutes
to go find some toothpaste." He vanished down the short
hallway, taking his cup with him, thank God.

Five minutes later Dog and Rex were both back in the

kitchen, looking for a fresh drink. The music seemed louder,
like someone had heard a really good song and cranked it up,
but judging by what was playing now, it had been a while
ago.

"I hope to hell that Krissi doesn't get pissed that I flushed

her fish down the john." Dog looked faintly worried about it.
"I mean, I couldn't leave him in the cup. That's horrible."

Rex stared. "You swallowed her fish, then spit him back

up. I think flushing him is going to come in second."

"Yeah, maybe." Dog pulled the tab on his beer can and

drank deeply. "Do you think she'll be really upset? God, I hate
it when girls cry."

"I think you might want to find a few other people to party

with for a while, yeah." Rex drank his own beer and leaned on
the counter next to Dog. "Did you get any of the money that
was trading hands?"

Dog shook his head and pulled his feet back to keep from

tripping a chick with blue hair, who was precariously making
her way through the kitchen toward the bathroom. "Never do,
man. All I do is accept the dares."

"Why?" Rex had to admit to a rather large curiosity about

that part. Dog seemed totally normal in most other ways. He

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

worked his hours at the store, he studied enough to get good
grades, if not stellar ones, and he was bright and well
adjusted. But he did an awful lot of crazy-ass shit just
because people dared him to. It didn't make a lot of sense to
Rex. Why would a perfectly normal twenty-two-year-old grad
student do that stuff?

"It started out so innocently," Dog said expansively, one

arm swinging out as he stood taller. "I was a young boy of
seven and Timmy Bobby Whoever-It-Was in second grade
dared me to eat a worm. So I did, and a legend was born."

Rex watched him talk and grinned. "You're drunk, man."
"Hell, yes. So are you. Wanna get out of here?"
"Before they make you eat something else or jump off the

deck or something?" Rex grinned and finished his beer with
two long swallows.

"Before I pass out," Dog corrected. "I can't even fucking

dial the phone to get a cab. Get me home, Rex, and I'll tell
you all about my career of accepting dares over breakfast
tomorrow afternoon."

Rolling his eyes, Rex pointed to the back door. "Let's get

outside, man. I'll call a cab from the front yard where it's nice
and quiet."

Once outside and around the edge of the house, the call

made, Rex and Dog started walking back and forth on the
sidewalk. It just seemed like the thing to do, since when they
stood still the world kept moving anyway.

"Do you do everything you're dared to?" Rex asked, his

little idea coming to the forefront of his mind, once the music
was turned down a bit and his ears stopped ringing.

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by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Dog laughed. He had his hands jammed into his jeans

pockets and his hair was starting to droop and curl at the
ends, whatever styling product he'd used in it clearly long
past its working life. "I was once dared to jump off the
Saunders Street overpass," he said. "And I was probably high
at the time or something. But I don't turn down a dare, ever."

"You jumped off the overpass." Rex eyed him, now looking

for scars.

"I jumped off the overpass, but on my terms." Dog winked

at him, his eyes sparkling. "I said I'd do it, but I wanted to
pick the time. And seeing as how we were all old enough to
know that jumping to certain broken bones was stupider than
stupid, he said sure. I think he was looking for a way to back
out of it. He didn't want to be the idiot who made me take the
game too far, which is just ridiculous since it's me who would
be taking it too far, of course. But, you know, drunk. Kind of
like now. Anyway."

"You're babbling, you know."
"Yeah, like I said, drunk. You are, too." Dog gave him a

shrewd look. "You're pretty interested in my dares and shit
right now. What's up?"

Rex shrugged and looked at the sidewalk as they kept

going. "What happened when you jumped off the overpass?"

"I'd given myself a three month lead time and turned it

into my term project for mechanical engineering. Half the
freaking college turned out to see it. It was awesome: I got
an A, and I didn't get hurt. So, what's up?"

Rex laughed as he imagined the turnout to see Dog

complete his dare. But there was a question there at the end,

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

and really, he kind of had to answer it. It was a bit like his
own personal dare. He stopped walking and waited for Dog to
realize it, then come back and look at him. "Every dare?" he
asked softly.

"Every one. Yup. Unbroken record." Dog's happy, drunken

grin slid a bit and he raised an eyebrow. "You got something
good for me? 'Cause you know I'd totally do you without a
dare, right?"

Rex had known no such thing, but it did make the dare a

little less terrifying. "Sure, I know that," he said, looking away
so Dog wouldn't see the lie in his eyes. "But yeah, I got a
good one. Come to a party with me next Wednesday."

"That's it?" Dog looked profoundly disappointed in him.
"It's a very special party."
The cab pulled up and Rex got Dog into the back seat and

then leaned on the door. "I'll call you on Wednesday, to make
sure you don't forget."

"You're not coming with me?" Dog was sprawled on the

seat, his head lolling.

"Nah. It's more fun when you're awake." Rex closed the

cab door and sent Dog on his way home. He watched the
taillights until the car turned at the corner and then started
walking, headed home himself, hoping he wasn't so lame that
he'd back out of his own dare.

* * * *

On Wednesday evening, Rex called Dog's number and tried

not to feel nervous. It was stupid for him to be having the
butterflies—Rex knew what was going to happen.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Hello?" Dog, damn him, appeared to be utterly

unconcerned. There was music in the background that
sounded like a mambo, and Rex could imagine Dog dancing
around as he talked on the phone.

"Hey, it's Rex. Just calling to make sure you didn't forget

or something."

Dog laughed. "No, dude. I don't forget dares. What time

are we going to this shindig? Oh, and I have a seminar at ten
tomorrow, so I need to be tucked into my bed no later than
three, okay?"

"We'll be done long before then." Rex moved around his

tiny apartment as he talked, absently noting that he needed
to dust soon. "These parties tend to break up by eleven, since
everyone has to work in the morning. The weekend bashes go
a little longer, but I don't think you're up to that kind of ...
intensity."

There was a pause and the music on Dog's end of the line

faded away. "Okay, now I'm curious."

"Good." Rex smiled and picked up his car keys. "Wear

black, if you've got it, and no fashion statements. Just jeans
and a plain shirt are best."

"What?"
"Do not accessorize. I'll pick you up in ten minutes." Rex

hung up and grinned. So far, so good.

He drove to Dog's place, a huge rambling house that was

shared by a constantly changing bunch of students, and
banged on the front door until someone answered. The girl
didn't even look up from the book she was studying, just
nodded when he said he was there to see Dog, and let him in.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Rex headed up the stairs, but Dog was on his way down,

dressed in black leather jeans and a dark gray shirt. "This
okay?"

Rex stared and made himself blink when his eyes felt dry.

"Hell, yes." He thought maybe he was too emphatic, but Dog
looked pleased and preened visibly as they went out to the
car.

"Anything I should know about this setup before I walk

in?" Dog asked, as they got in the car.

"Well, they're my friends, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't

make a scene." Rex pulled out of the driveway and headed
uptown. "I mean, if it's really not your thing. I wouldn't have
dared you to come if I thought you'd be an utter ass to
people I like, obviously."

Dog snorted and leaned back, one hand on his thigh.

"Usually people dare me to do things so I'll get embarrassed
or scared. What's your motive?"

"You'll see." Rex shrugged. "But if it makes you feel better,

it's not to embarrass or scare you. I guess I'm more curious
than anything else."

Rex got a thoughtful look in return and then Dog turned

his attention to the window, not saying anything more until
they pulled up at the house, a little less than ten minutes
later.

Rex parked behind a Lincoln he recognized and led the way

to the front door. "If you want to bail at any time, let me
know. Be quiet and respectful. Just coming here fills the dare,
so if you want to go, just say."

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"You've got to be kidding me," Dog muttered under his

breath. "I'm totally all in, man. You're doing everything you
can to make me stay, you know that?"

Rex grinned. "Yeah." He pushed the bell and took Dog's

hand. "Ready?"

The door opened immediately, before Dog could say

anything at all, and Mistress Elizabeth beamed at them both.
"Rex, darling. You finally found one. Come in, sweetheart,
and let me see him." She was in full regalia, from her
perfectly made up face down to her five inch heeled boots.
Every scrap of clothing was black leather and there was no
doubt at all about what she was. Completely confident, totally
secure, Mistress Elizabeth was in her mid-forties and at the
height of her beauty.

Rex laughed and dragged the suddenly immobile Dog into

the wide foyer. "Mistress, this is my friend Greg. He goes by
Dog, since he never turns down a dare."

Mistress Elizabeth gave Dog a long look, up and down and

then back up again. "I see. And tell me, Greg, do you often
wind up with double dog dares that lead to rapture and
endorphin rushes?"

"All the time, ma'am." Dog gave her a broad smile. "But

never quite like this."

Mistress Elizabeth gave Rex an amused look. "Have fun,

my darling. Will you be playing or merely watching?"

Dog's fingers flexed in Rex's hand, squeezing a bit harder.
"You know me," Rex said calmly, ignoring Dog.
"I do. But I still have hope. You may use the loft, if you'd

like; Peter and Muriel can't make it tonight, so the upper floor

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

will be empty." She smiled at them both and turned away to
open the door for the next arrivals.

"This way," Rex said, tugging Dog along. They went

around a corner and up a flight of stairs, stopping only long
enough to get a glass of wine each from the buffet table.
"That's all the alcohol there is, one glass each, so enjoy it."

Dog nodded and followed close to him, his eyes wide. "Do

you know what she is?" he whispered. "I mean, during the
day."

"Of course I do." Rex gave him a hard look. "I've known

her for years. But she wouldn't let me in here for this until I
was legal."

"I shop at her store!"
"Everyone does." Rex grinned and took Dog around the

edge of a half wall to a loft space where a long couch was set
to face the railing instead of away from it. "Come on. We'll
watch from up here."

Dog nodded and they made themselves comfortable,

sipping their wine as they watched the setup below them.

A large open area that Rex knew was really a very formal

living room during most of the week was draped with a fine
rug of neutral color. On that was a simple wooden frame,
sturdy and built to last. And strapped to the frame was a
naked young man wearing a hood. He had his back to the
room, his arms held out from his sides and secured to the
frame by leather straps.

"How long has he been there?" Dog asked softly.
"Probably only about twenty minutes or so. He would have

been bound just as the first guests arrived or a few minutes

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by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

before that." Rex looked down and noted how still he was, not
even a reflexive twitch of muscle across his shoulders. "He's
calm."

Dog leaned forward a bit more. "Do you know all those

other people?"

"Some of them. Probably all of them, I didn't really look to

see who's here tonight." Rex watched Dog as he looked
around them and then back down at the scene again.
"They're going to start soon."

"Okay." Dog didn't look bothered at all. He looked, in fact,

like he was a tourist and happy to be so. "It's so quiet." He
was whispering, leaning forward to peer over the edge. "Oh,
wow."

Rex leaned as well and looked straight down to see the

tool table. "Oh. See anything you've used?"

Dog didn't say anything for a long moment, apparently

trying to see everything before he replied. "Nothing other
than a blindfold, man. Maybe a gag if everyone was home
and we were trying keep the noise down." He shrugged and
sat back, seemingly not at all uncomfortable with the
admission. "You?"

"Did you see anything you'd want to use?" Which was not,

Rex knew, an answer.

Dog's eyes narrowed. "Well, now."
A loud snap from below them drew their attention. Without

any sort of introduction or fanfare, one of Mistress Elizabeth's
guests had begun the show. Rex took a fast look to see who it
was and leaned way back on the couch so he could watch Dog
instead. "That's David. Which means that the man he's

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flogging is his partner, Liam. They don't share, but they like
to show off."

Wordlessly, Dog nodded. His jaw had fallen open, and his

eyes were getting wider.

"They do a lot of things, use a lot of tools," Rex whispered.

He watched Dog and kept his voice soft, his words measured
to fit in between the snap and slap of David's pace. "But they
like flogging best. Crops and cats, fine leather tools."

Dog nodded again, not taking his gaze off the scene. He

was lit by a lamp behind them and the light reflecting up from
the first floor. Rex could hear people moving around, the clink
of a wine glass against a plate, and he could hear
appreciative sounds from various places.

The next snap was louder and Liam moaned. Dog gasped

and licked his lower lip.

"Soft leather, rigid leather, sometimes a whip dragged

back and forth across his ass..." Rex leaned closer to Dog. "It
can go on for ages. And sometimes Liam's allowed to yell,
sometimes not. He can be marked and bruised when they're
done, or David can leave him merely pink. Sometimes, when
I sit closer, I can smell them."

Dog took Rex's hand and pulled it into his lap, just below

his balls. "Smell like leather?" he whispered back.

"Smells like sex."
The flogger snapped again and Rex looked. "Crop. If you

wait, they'll switch to a cat, I expect. David has this one
that's made of kangaroo, has ten inch tails. It makes a swish
that'll just eat at your gut until you have to touch it."

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by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Liam moaned again and his head tipped back. Below them,

the guests had fallen silent as they watched the thin, red lines
appear on Liam's ass and shoulders. David's erection was
clearly outlined in his jeans.

Rex looked back at Dog. "Watch," he whispered. "Just

watch." He slid his hand higher and rubbed over the hard
length of Dog's cock. "I'll take care of this."

Dog nodded once more, sharply, and his legs fell apart.

But he didn't look away from the scene. His breath caught
with each sound of the crop hitting Liam, his chest rising and
falling more and more rapidly.

Smiling, Rex curled into him and got Dog's prick free of his

leather pants. He didn't need to smell David and Liam; the
loft was already pungent with the scent of warm leather and
sex. Dog's cock was hard, slightly curved in his hand, and Rex
could feel it flex as the crop fell silent.

Dog held his breath, but Rex could feel his thigh tremble

as David asked someone to pass him the kangaroo flogger.
When Liam sighed and said, "Thank you," Dog shuddered
slightly and his cock started to leak.

Rex smiled again and started stroking, smoothing fluid and

holding Dog firmly. He watched Dog's eyes, his mouth, and
the way his jaw jumped every time David struck Liam. He felt
Dog's cock flex and throb, and Rex could feel it when Dog
started to anticipate the blows.

When Liam was crying out with every strike, when Dog's

cock was wet and slippery, when Rex could feel not only
Dog's hips lifting to fuck through his fist but also Dog's fingers
gripping the couch ... when the smell of sex and the creak of

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by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

leather was getting to him, Rex licked at Dog's ear and
whispered, "I dare you to flog me."

Dog's head fell back as he came, cream shooting up onto

his belly and sliding over Rex's fingers. His eyes were closed
tight and he was biting his lip, cords in his neck standing out,
but he didn't make a sound. His legs were taut, hard and
unmovable, and Rex only had to rub against him for a
moment before he realized he was in danger of coming
himself.

Dog relaxed suddenly, his prick giving up one last shot.

With a lazy, satisfied grin he shook his head. "I never pass up
on a dare. But I'd really rather you did it to me, man." He
reached out and undid Rex's pants. "Double dog dare you." A
warm hand curled around Rex's erection.

"I knew I picked right," Rex whispered. He leaned over

Dog and kissed him hard, letting the sounds of the flogger
wash over him. He didn't pass up dares either. He was just
very careful who he let issue them in the first place.

He came a moment later, as Liam yelled and someone else

cried out, and knew that he'd won this one as much as Dog
had.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Number One

By Jay Lygon
The evening's music was a cello concerto. The melancholy

voice of the cello and vintage burgundy, Master Ophir
believed, were a perfect pairing, so I selected a bottle from
his cellar and let it breathe while I made his dinner.

My nerves were skittery, making my hands tremble as I

riced the potatoes with roasted garlic. I'd been serving my Sir
for six years, but tonight it felt different. Maybe it was guilt. I
knew I should go back to the quarters I shared with the other
slaves and let Number Three out of his cage, but time only
moved forward and there was no taking back what had been
done.

If only Three had left the house with Number Two when I

gave them the evening off. He had turned to his textbooks,
though, and wouldn't budge no matter what I said, so in
desperation, I had locked him in. The poor boy had just
stared at me with mute resignation. Guilt poked at my
conscious. I should have gone back, shoved money in his
hands and ordered him to go. Instead, I stirred my
hollandaise sauce.

If my Sir was surprised when I came into the dining room

to pour his wine, it didn't show. Normally, Two waited on him.
When I'd been Number Two, no one else wanted to cook, so I
got stuck with the job and Number One served our Sir, but
when One left at the end of his contract and I was promoted
to senior slave, I decided to stay in the kitchen because I got

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to where I liked it. Our Sir never questioned that. As long as
his routine wasn't upset, he didn't seem to care who did the
chores. Maybe that's why he didn't say anything when I came
out of the kitchen.

While I filled my Sir's wine glass, I glanced at him. To me,

he always seemed kind of exotic, but I couldn't figure out
what made him different. There were lots of gay men in Long
Beach with caramel skin, hazel eyes, and a close cropped
moustache and goatee. Maybe it was the aura around him,
like power bottled up and kept under tight control. Or maybe
it was his dry sense of humor that went right over most
people's heads. He sure didn't sound like an American when
he talked. He hadn't told me much about his past, but I'd
heard rumors that he was Egyptian, or Persian. Those
guesses were as good as mine.

Last May, photographers from LA Magazine came to shoot

his garden as part of a feature titled "The Hidden Oases of Los
Angeles." The article alongside the pictures of the cerulean
blue walls, tiled reflecting pool, and meticulously groomed
kumquat trees described the house and garden as Moorish in
one paragraph and Moroccan in another. Those were two
different things, something my Sir pointed out with an
exasperated sigh before he filed the thick magazine away, but
he never said which one was closer to the truth.

Thinking I'd gotten away with my little plan, I set down the

bottle and padded across the dining room to the kitchen. As
always, I wondered if he watched my bare ass when I walked
away from him. I spent hours in the gym making sure it was
worth looking at.

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Yes, Sir, I've got a hard-on, so you know what I'm thinking

about. For the first time in months, it's just the two of us in
the house, or at least it seems like it. What do you say after
dinner you loosen your belt and I'll loosen my façade of the
perfect slave boy and we spend some time exploring what's
underneath both of those?

For his salad course, my creation was a bed of baby

spinach leaves topped with a spiral of ripe pear slices,
crumbles of gorgonzola, and a sprinkle of spiced, toasted
pecans. The dressing was light, so it wouldn't compete with
the other flavors. I imagined him cutting into the juicy pear
and taking a bit of the pungent cheese together. Man, it
would be great to be his fork, with his tongue sliding over me,
a slight scrape of his teeth, his lips wrapping tight as he
pulled me out of his mouth.

I'd spent hours pouring over his gourmet magazines while

I planned his dinner tonight. Each dish was a tiny seduction,
even though right then I wasn't so sure I wanted him to
watch me closely, because he might notice that I was
flustered.

See me; don't look at me. Palms so moist I had to wipe

them on a dishrag every time I went into the kitchen, you'd
think we were on a first date.

To my relief, my Sir didn't say anything when I brought

the salad out, and he seemed to be concentrating on his wine
when I took the plate away. However, when I put his main
course in front of him and stepped back, hands clasped
behind my back, he cleared his throat.

"Where is Number Two?" Master Ophir asked.

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by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"I gave him the night off, Sir."
"That was generous of you, Number One."
Through long years of service, I knew it was better to shut

up than to talk more than I had to. My voice might have
given away how nervous I was.

Ophir leaned over the plate and inhaled the aromas.

"Hollandaise sauce?"

"It's allowed under Master's diet plan, since I adjusted for

it in your breakfast and lunch."

"Ah! The mystery is solved. When I saw my lunch, I was

concerned that you thought your Master was getting fat."

Shocked, I glanced up at him. Fat? My Sir's wiry body

didn't have an ounce of fat anywhere.

Ophir chuckled at my panic as he cut into his steak. It was

deep pink, almost red. He dabbed it in the creamy yellow
sauce and brought it to his mouth. His eyes closed as he
breathed in through his nose. "Excellent, Number One. You
outdid yourself this evening."

He could make my heart soar with praise like that. "Thank

you, Sir."

"But..."
And send me crashing back to earth with a single word.
"If Two has the night off, shouldn't Number Three be

serving me? It's time the boy started learning new duties."

It was a simple question, yet how to answer it? Had I

really thought he wouldn't ask where his other slaves were?
My hands slid from behind my back until my arms hung at my
sides. "Three is in his cage for the night, Sir." Heat flooded
my face.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Is Three ill?"
"No, Sir."
"Has he fallen behind in his studies?"
"No, Sir."
"Is he being punished?"
"Um..."
"Um? What kind of answer is that, Boy?"
It was the worst answer I could have given. The guilt I'd

tried to ignore welled up and spilled through my body so that
I cringed. Of course my Sir saw that.

"Go upstairs. Now!"
Even though that meant I was going to be punished, I was

relieved. Everything would come out. And then ... And then
I'd be put back in my proper place and the horrible tightness
in my gut would melt away.

* * * *

My Sir's dungeon was more like an operating theater than

the dark chambers in the sex clubs. It was scarier that way.
Through the two-sided mirror on the long wall, I'd watched
many guests stop short at the threshold and blink at the stark
brightness. Boys watched the stainless steel medical
examination table in the far side of the room out of the corner
of their eyes as if afraid it might move. Some shrank back
against their Masters and had to be prodded inside.

The focus of the room was a brushed steel St. John's

cross. Shackles were welded to the extremes of each branch.
Stronger slaves than I had tested those bindings and failed to
get loose. What I loved most about it was a hidden feature.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

The X could be tilted easily from vertical to horizontal, or any
angle between, and held there. For a Master with an
imagination, the possibilities were endless.

The cold tile floor hurt my knees when I knelt. My hands

clasped behind my neck, I waited patiently for my Sir to
follow me into his dungeon. We both knew that the setting
didn't matter. I was ready to confess. He didn't have to drag
anything out of me. Yet, because of who we were, we would
go through our rituals. He did it for my sake, really, because
confession without penance meant nothing.

When my Sir entered the dungeon, he wore his leathers.

Old school, every piece had a story. Sometimes, when he was
content and relaxed, he'd tell me how he'd earned them. At
first, I'd been shocked that he'd ever been someone's boy,
but he only served one master, and then transitioned to a
top. When he'd had a lot to drink, his voice moved into a
minor key, mellow and sad like a cello, as if he'd lost
something he regretted but knew he could never have again.
Then he'd pet and kiss me, his eyes soft, his touches tender,
and he'd tell me that I could sleep in his bed that night. The
next morning, he'd be his usual self. Knowing he never talked
about that kind of stuff with his other boys kept me happy for
days.

The sight of my Sir's knee-high Hessian boots when he

came into his dungeon made my cock swell again. How many
times had I polished those with my tongue? Too many to
remember, but I cherished each time. My rank as his senior
slave had advantages. Those boots were mine alone to
worship.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Prepare for punishment," Master Ophir said in the same

tone he'd order coffee. He never came into the dungeon
angry.

I went to the St John's cross. My hard-on bounced with

each step. Long years of serving in the nude made me numb
to embarrassment over things like that. It was like breathing,
just something my body did naturally.

I spread my legs and shackled them to the cross at my

ankles, then lifted my arms into place so that my Sir could
bind them. The cold steel made me suck in a breath. When
the heat of my body warmed it, I leaned into it and turned my
head so that I could watch my Sir.

Master Ophir eased onto the metal examination table

where he could be seen, one lean leg extended down to the
floor, the other crooked on the table. He held a riding crop
between his hands. That wasn't the way punishments usually
began. That made me worry.

Ophir frowned, his expression moving with his thoughts.

"You betrayed me, Number One."

My Sir had never spoken to me in that quiet, disappointed

voice before. Caught unaware, I had no defense against it. A
breath caught in my throat and lodged there, something I
couldn't swallow or cough out. The only way to let it go
seemed to be tears, but I was too shocked to cry.

"I gave you power over my other boys, because I thought

of you as an extension of myself. I expected you would
mentor Two and Three. Instead, you abused your position."

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

He stood. As if he couldn't look at me, he focused on his

crop. He moved slowly, deep in thought, until he was out of
my range of vision.

I twisted to my other side, hoping for a glimpse of him.

Without giving me another glance, he walked out of the
dungeon. My head bowed. I'd only caged Three a couple
hours early. It wasn't as if I'd hurt him. Obviously, my Sir
thought it was a much bigger deal than I did, so I started to
worry about angry he was. Punishment was a given, but why
had he left without whipping me? I didn't trust this new way
of doing things, because I didn't know if it would end the way
I expected it to.

Ophir left the dungeon door open when he went away.

Ignoring how my back muscles were already beginning to
burn, I hung on every little sound. When his boots trod on the
stairs, I tried to read things into the speed and clunk of his
steps.

Loves me; loves me not; hates me; hates me not. It was

useless.

"Number Three, perhaps you can tell me why One put you

in your cage at such an early hour," Ophir said.

My head jerked back. He'd brought Three with him?

Everything was shifting. My calves clenched as I fought for
my balance even though I couldn't have fallen if I'd wanted
to. Everything tonight was new and different and I no longer
knew where I stood. I craned around, hoping to find clues on
my Sir's face.

Number Three, a short, slim, boy-next-door blond stood

beside Ophir. Like me, Three was nude, and fit enough to look

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

good that way. His light pink nipples puckered in the chilly
air. His blue eyes drooped as if he'd been roused from sleep.
Chances were that he had been. There wasn't much else to
do in his tiny cage.

"No, Sir, I don't know why I got caged early." Three spoke

in a whisper. He'd only been in service four months, and was
in such deep awe of our Sir that he rarely spoke in front of
him.

"Have you broken any of my rules?"
Three blinked a few times. His eyes darted about the

dungeon. The poor boy looked terrified. He briefly glanced at
me, but lowered his gaze before he could see me shake my
head. "Yes, Sir."

"Ah. Now we're getting somewhere. Have you already

been punished for those errors?"

"Yes, Sir."
"Then you have no idea why One locked you in your cage

so early?"

"No, Sir."
Ophir paced to the examination table. "I'll admit. I'm

confused. Here, I have a boy who has done nothing wrong,
and yet he's been confined instead of being allowed to enjoy
the freedom he's—."

"I don't mind it, Sir," Three blurted out.
I winced for him.
Ophir spun on his heel. He strode over to Three and slid

the end of the crop under the boy's chin. As he pressed up,
the boy's head lifted. "You will not interrupt me. Turn around.
Bend over. Grasp you ankles."

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Three grunted as he adopted the uncomfortable position.

His knees bent, spreading his thighs and offering a glimpse of
his shaved balls.

"Straighten those knees," Ophir said.
With some difficulty, Three managed to hold onto his

ankles while straightening his legs. The boy huffed. His cute
little bubble butt tensed. How many times had I warned him
about interrupting our Sir?

The whap of Ophir's crop left a light pink mark on Three's

left ass cheek.

"I will not interrupt my Master," Three said.
The crop hit his other cheek.
"I will not interrupt my Master."
By the tenth stroke, Three was already yelping. By the last

stroke, he could barely speak.

Ophir patted Three's bottom. "That's enough. You may

stand."

Even though he was only twenty, Three moved like an old

man as he straightened. Ophir grasped his short cropped hair
and kissed him. His tongue forced into the boy's mouth, and
Three yielded, melting under the assault, submitting to the
brute force. My cock hardened, as did Three's. I embraced
cold steel; he was held in Ophir's unrelenting arms. Jealousy
and envy seared through me, emotions I didn't usually suffer
from even while watching my Sir fuck another boy, but they
weren't fucking. It was kissing, with touches so intimate I
almost had to turn away and give them their privacy.

"You may thank me," Ophir told Three.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Thank you for my lesson, Sir." Three's eyes were bright,

as if he'd glimpsed bliss beyond his pain.

"I have another lesson for you." Ophir touched the boy's

cheek and trailed it down his neck. "While you may be my
newest boy, and you still have a lot to learn." Ophir reached
around the boy to slap his ass, but then wrapped his arm
around Three's waist and pulled him close, "You deserve the
same respect and have the same rights as my other slaves.
So tell me. Has One been unkind to you?"

Three frowned. "Unkind? No, Sir. One's strict, and he

punishes hard, but it's not like my Dad slapping me around
when he got drunk or nothin'—or anything. One isn't mean
about it. He just paddles my ass until I've learned my lesson
and then tells me to try harder next time. He's caned me a
couple times, but I deserved it, and afterward, he gave me a
hand job and let me rest for a while."

Ophir nodded. "Has One ever punished you without

cause?"

Three cast a glance at me. "Um. Do you mean other than

caging me early tonight? No. This is the first time he's done
it."

"Did you ask him why he did it?"
The furrows between Three's eyebrows grew deeper. "No.

I mean, No, Sir. He told me to get into my cage, so I did. I
figured it was the same as obeying you."

Ophir caressed Three's ass. "In the future, remember that

you are always allowed to question punishment if it confuses
you. If One doesn't give you a satisfactory answer, you can
always come to me. Always. I will not allow my boys to be

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

abused. Not by my guests, and certainly not by my other
slaves." Ophir took Three's hand and raised it to his lips.
"Perhaps I should spend more time training you. We'll get to
know each other better that way."

That cut deeper than it should have. I remembered being

terrified the first couple times I was summoned to Ophir, and
how much I craved my next chance alone with him. I still
ached for those moments when it was just the two of us,
which was why I'd tried so hard to get Two and Three out of
the house. Just an evening alone, that was all I wanted, and
now I couldn't even have my Sir's undivided attention in the
dungeon.

Ophir let go of Three's hand. "One was wrong to punish

you without reason. He must learn his lesson. Thirty strokes.
And to make sure he feels it where it hurts the most, you will
be the one to correct him."

"Me, Sir?" Three gulped.
"Have you ever punished a man?" Ophir asked Three. "No?

A mistake with a whip or a cane can be serious. A paddle or a
crop is best for a beginner. Don't worry, I'll help you."

Three exhaled. "Thank you, Sir."
Ophir put his hands on Three's shoulders and prodded him

closer to the cross. He put his crop into the boy's hand. "This
is about the right distance. Now, spread your legs a bit." He
walked around Three and gently adjusted the boy's posture.
When the boy stood the right way, Ophir pressed his chest to
the boy's back and wrapped his hand around Three's arm
below the wrist. "You're going to raise your arm some. When
you bring it down, at the end of the movement, flick your

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

wrist." He helped the boy through practice movements, like a
tennis instructor teaching a student how to swing a racket.
"Show me. That's right. You can raise your arm a little
higher." While the boy practiced, Ophir's hand slid around the
boy's waist and down to a hardening cock. "Very good." Ophir
kissed the boy's neck.

Three's arm lowered as he leaned back against our Sir.
"Keep your concentration." Ophir stroked the boy's cock.

"After each stroke, give One time to repeat his lesson."
Ophir's kisses trailed across the boy's shoulder. "If you're
ready, step closer. Would you like for One to count off the
strokes for you?"

"I think it would be best, Sir," Three admitted as he

watched Ophir's hand slide over his cock.

Ophir chuckled. "You heard him, One. You are to count off

your punishment as well as repeating your lesson between
each stroke. You will not abuse your fellow slaves."

"You may begin his punishment, Three," Ophir told the

boy.

The first blow was so light that I almost questioned if it

counted, but I dutifully repeated, "I will not abuse my fellow
slaves. One."

Ophir poured lube on his palm and took hold of Three's

cock again. "Continue."

Three smacked my other butt cheek with the crop.
"I will not abuse my fellow slaves. Two," I said.
"You're being far too gentle. When One punishes you, does

it hurt?" Ophir asked Three.

"It sure does, Sir."

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Raise your arm a little higher and snap your wrist. There!

See that pink mark you left that time? That's what I want to
see."

"I will not abuse my fellow slaves. Three."
The other men didn't seem to hear me. Three's head

tipped back against Ophir's shoulder while Ophir's hand
worked over his hard-on.

"Again. We mustn't neglect One," Ophir said. Three

nodded. That time, the crop really stung. "Very good," Ophir
told him. "See how his buttocks clenched?"

They smiled at each other. I turned my face to the cross

and tried to ignore the moans and kisses behind me. The time
between strokes of the crop seemed to last longer. At that
rate, thirty strokes would take an hour. It wasn't the crop
that stung the most though. It was watching them build a
bond together that cut me out, as if I didn't exist, as if I'd
been dismissed.

What I wanted, but could never have, was to go back to

that first year of service. Even if it meant sleeping in the
cage, even if it meant being used by the other slaves late at
night, even if it meant the almost daily punishments as I
learned my place. At least back then, my Sir noticed me. He
criticized every mistake, but he also praised any little thing I
did right. Now, no one cared. I could have simply thrown the
pears into my Sir's salad tonight instead of meticulously
layering them into a perfect spiral, and not a word of
complaint would have been uttered, because it was simply
expected that I'd go above and beyond, and only I noticed
when I fell short.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Another blow brought me out of my thoughts. "I will not

abuse my fellow slaves. Twelve."

"No, One. That was eleven," Ophir chided me.
It wasn't a deliberate mistake. My mind had wandered,

and I had lost track. Apparently, my Sir had not.

"We will start again. Quickly bring him up to the count,

Three. Then we will continue."

Three struck in quick succession, giving me only enough

time to recite my lesson and call out the count before the
next blow. As he grew bolder, Three put some real snap into
each hit, until it began to feel like a real punishment.

Ophir's hand ran over my ass. "You're doing a good job,

Boy."

I knew he didn't mean me. Those words were hardly ever

spoken to me anymore. I hung my head. The scent of my
sweat filled my nose.

No matter how deeply the men behind me breathed, or

how long their kisses lasted, I wouldn't watch them any more.
The soft grunts and the sound of a fist sliding up and down a
hard cock were torture. Anger, sudden and unexpected,
surged through my veins. I balled my hand into a fist, let it
go, did it again, as if I were only flexing to bring the
circulation back into my numbing fingers, because I didn't
want my Sir to see how pissed off I was.

* * * *

"I will not abuse my fellow slaves. Thirty." I tried to keep

the irritation out of my voice.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Ophir ran his hand over my sore bottom. "Feel how warm

he is. Go ahead. Touch him."

Tentative hands, hot and sticky, touched my ass. Three

panted as he tried to pull back from the edge of orgasm. I
could sympathize, but didn't feel like it. How like our Sir to
use the session to teach us both different lessons. Maybe it
was the same lesson, though, one about self-control.

I heard the toy cabinet open. Three's hands pulled away

from me.

"Sir, may I ask a question?" Three asked.
"If you're asking why I've taken my flogger out, let me

explain. One has been punished for how he treated you, but
he hasn't been punished for betraying my trust. Stand back,
and watch. If you are ever tempted to put your petty
squabbles and personal vendettas before service to me,
remember this."

That was the only warning I had. I could tell from the

thump and sting that my Sir had chosen his favorite suede
flogger. Truthfully, I'd never seen him use the horsetail or the
braided cat with the metal tips on any slave. If the breech of
his rules were really bad, he'd kick a boy out rather than go
to the dungeon.

As my Sir flogged me, I didn't recite my lesson, nor did I

count the strokes. He didn't give me time.

Suede felt soft when slowly pulled across the skin, but in a

flogger, the texture quickly sensitized my skin. Each tail was
heavy enough to feel the strike down to my muscles. He
worked across my shoulders in quick, light strokes. There was

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

no reason to hit hard. It was the accumulation of pain layered
on pain that made my grit my teeth.

For a moment, the blows stopped. More was to come. I

prepared myself. He struck my buttocks. Again, he began
with lighter strokes and worked up to harder ones, but never
put his full power behind a stroke. Even without glancing
behind me to check my reflection in the mirror, I knew that
my shoulders and butt were deep pink.

Every man had a weak spot. Mine were my thighs. My Sir

knew it, too. He came to the cross, unlocked the pivot
mechanism, and slowly lowered the top of the X until it was
at a forty-five degree angle to the ground. He locked the table
in place.

I gripped the top of the X so that I wouldn't hang by my

wrists. My feet grappled along the smooth surface until I
found the hidden toe holds.

"Lift," Ophir ordered.
I struggled to push my butt up. He reached under me,

grasped my balls and cock, and pulled them up toward my
belly. I expected him to talk about how hard I was, but,
"Down," was all he said.

He knew I hated that position. Clinging onto the cross took

a lot of concentration and fatigued my muscles faster than
standing. Three had moved into my sight. He was another
distraction I didn't need just then. My legs were spread wide
for my Sir, and even though he'd made sure that my cock and
balls were tucked safely under my body, it left me too
exposed for comfort.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Sir, I'm sorry," I cried out, hoping he wouldn't flick the

flogger at my thighs.

Mercifully, he hit my soles first. Unable to hop, I lifted on

my toes and sucked air through clenched teeth. Just as I got
under control, he went for the tender flesh between my legs.

I yelped and twisted. He rained blow after blow on the

backs of my thighs and between them. Thump, thump, thunk.
It was a relief to scream. It tore from my chest in a great
whoosh.

Three backed against the wall, as if protecting his bottom.
"Sir! Please!"
Ophir worked my thighs longer than he'd spent on my butt

or shoulders. The pain mingled with the throb of my heart. It
was too much. I was at my breaking point. My scream turned
into a long groan. My shoulders drooped, my heels lowered.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whispered.
The world beneath me tilted again until my feet touched

the ground. I let go of the top of the cross. Sweat slicked the
cross under my body.

My Sir's flogger made contact with my back again, but this

time with the lightest little brushes, like fingertips fluttering
over me. My super sensitive skin seared under the touch. The
heat grew until it felt like flame dancing over my skin. I
moaned. My lips were dry. My throat was raw. Purified by fire,
I stopped fighting and accepted my Sir's judgment.

For the briefest moment, I was floating away from it. My

Sir forced my head to turn to his. His tongue shoved between
my teeth. I opened up and drank him in, tasting earth, musk,
and leather. He pulled back and looked into my eyes like he

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

was trying to tell me something. He kissed me again, with his
hand to the back of my head as if he thought I'd try to
escape. Never. Never.

His forehead pressed to mine as his hand slid to the nape

of my neck. He breathed against my lips so that only I could
hear him. "Chris." Scolded and forgiven by one word. We
stumbled then, kissing awkwardly like teenage lovers.

Three cleared his throat.
My Sir scowled. I shrugged slightly. He caressed my arm

while his gaze lingered and then moved away.

"Release his hands from the cross, and then his feet. He

may be unsteady, so be ready to support him," Ophir told
Three.

Knowing that I'd be free in a moment, and would have to

face Three, I took calming breaths. If he saw that I was mad,
he'd think I held the punishment against him, when it was his
little cough that had me frustrated. Couldn't he have given us
a few more seconds?

When I was free, I went to my Sir and knelt at his feet. My

subtle hand gesture brought Three to his knees beside me.
Even after he'd punished me, he trusted me to guide him.
Guilt, pushed aside by my fears for myself, returned with a
hard punch between my pecs. Locking him up wasn't the
worst thing I'd ever done to another person, but it felt pretty
small right then.

Ophir tapped his crop on his open palm. "Whenever you

boys get into your petty squabbles, my peace is interrupted,
and I'm telling you both right now that I won't have it. So
whatever little problem you two have, solve it now."

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

It wasn't fair to make Three scramble for explanations

when he had no idea what was going on, so I bowed until my
forehead touched my Sir's Hessian boots.

"One?"
"I caged Three as a last resort. I tried to talk him into

taking the night off, but he wouldn't leave the house, Sir."

"You couldn't have simply confined him to quarters?"
If I would have glanced up, I was sure I would have seen a

grave expression on my Sir's face, but I heard the dry humor
in his voice. Poor Three was probably deaf to it. It took years
for me to learn the little tells of our Sir's mood.

"I realized that, Sir, but it was too late. I'd already done it,

and I didn't want to have to go back and admit that I was
trying to hog you to myself, Sir. It would have been
embarrassing." I returned to my kneeling position.

Three looked at me with a carefully blank expression. Did

he think I was above pulling a stunt like that? Was he sorry
now he hadn't made me scream?

"And you, Number Three, why didn't you take advantage

of a rare night off?" Ophir asked.

Three shrugged. "Got no one to hang with. Family kicked

me out. My old friends are tweakers, or just gone away, or
going nowhere. This is the only place I got."

How could I have forgotten? Six years before, when Master

Ophir plucked me from the streets and brought me into
service, it was a while before I wanted to deal with everything
I'd left behind. Even now, unless I was doing chores for my
Sir or going to my classes, life out there was too chaotic for

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

me, so I spent my free time inside Master Ophir's house. If
Three was going through that, too, I felt like a real jerk.

"I see," Ophir said quietly, as if he were thinking about

something else. "So, Three, are you satisfied with One's
punishment?"

Three shrugged. "Sure."
Master Ophir cupped Three's jaw in his hand and forced

him to look up. "What?"

"Yes, Sir, I meant."
"Remember your place always, Number Three." Ophir let

go of him. "And how does Number One feel about this? Is the
matter settled?"

"No, Sir." The guilt was back, but it didn't feel bad like

before. Now it was a dull ache. "I think I owe Number Three
some..." I wasn't sure how to say it without sounding stupid,
but I felt I owed Three a special kind of apology.

"Sex," Ophir said.
Was that a question, or was he finishing the sentence I'd

left hanging? I shook my head. "Not just sex." Why couldn't I
figure out how to say that I wanted to hold Three and make
him feel wanted? When I was in his place, that's what I lived
for. Sex I could get anywhere, but comfort was hard to come
by.

I looked up into my Sir's eyes, hoping he could help me

out. For a moment, he only stared back, but then the
slightest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he gave
me a barely perceptible nod of his head.

Master Ophir clapped his hands together. Three flinched as

the sharp sound rang off the tiled walls of the dungeon.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Enough of this. The matter is settled. Now, last boy to my
bed gets a smack on the bottom."

Three seemed dazed, but when he saw me smiling and

scrambling to my feet, he quickly jumped up. We raced down
the hall to our Sir's bedroom.

The bedroom barely had any furniture in it. There was the

bed, on top of a black platform, one black leather wing-back
chair in front of the fireplace, and a table next to the chair.
Unlike the rest of the house, it had more of a Japanese feel to
it, maybe because of the jade walls and the artwork.

Inside our Sir's bedroom, I wrapped my arm around

Three's waist and pulled him back from the bed. He grappled
with me, shouting, "No fair!" Neither of us really wanted to
win the race, so we wrestled our way across the wood floor.
We fell onto Ophir's large platform bed in a tangle of arms
and legs.

"No fair!" Three kept complaining, but he was laughing.
I had to kiss him just because his eyes were bright and his

smile was goofy.

Ophir took his time following us into his bedroom. "Who

was last?"

"I was," Three said.
"No, he wasn't," I said.
Ophir tsk-tsked and shook his head. "One of you is a liar,

and the other—. I don't have all night to figure this out. Come
undress me."

I sat up. "Come on, I'll show you how to undress our Sir,"

I told Number Three.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

It took much longer than it would have if I were working

alone. Besides showing Three how to do everything, we
paused to admire our Sir's shoulders, chest, and legs as we
bared them. Admiration lead to touching, touching lead to
kisses, and somehow we ended back on the bed with Three
between my Sir and I.

Used to be, as soon as I got hard, I wanted to come. My

Sir didn't allow me to. It was either maturity or training, but
right then I wanted to draw the whole evening out. I
wondered if Three had ever had his whole body worshipped
before. Master Ophir kind of hung back and watched me, like
he was letting me take the lead. So I made out with the boy
until it was turning me on a little bit too much, and then I set
to work nuzzling his neck and sucking his nipples.

Typical twenty-year old, Three grabbed his cock and

started pumping away. Our Sir would have caned my ass for
that, so I shoved his hand away and shook my head. To teach
him a lesson, I moved even slower as I kissed my way
between his pecs. My tongue slid over each bump of the tight
little six-pack that was his stomach. He humped my chest,
urging me to follow the come gutters of his Adonis belt to his
cock, but I liked the heat of his belly button against my lips.

Our Sir grabbed Three and pulled him on top. While they

made out, I got between their legs and licked their balls.
Master Ophir grasped Three's ass checks and parted them so
I could get in there and rim the boy.

Three gasped and wriggled on the end of my tongue: such

a sensitive little pucker. When I had him ready, I rolled a
condom over our Sir's cock and guided it into Three.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

When things got too hot, we cooled it down to caresses for

a while, and then one of us would give in to the hunger for
cock, and the only sounds were harsh deep breaths and quiet
moans. Skin slid over skin. Our mingled scents were on my
face, driving me crazy. Three's come pooled on our Sir's skin,
translucent white on caramel. I sucked it off him, and then
shared it with both men, pushing it between our mouths as
we kissed.

Three curled against our Sir. He was too pretty to cover

with the sheet, but I tucked it around his waist anyway. He
drew it up to his shoulders, sighing slightly. He took all the
energy in the room with him into his sleep.

Master Ophir propped up on his elbow. His lips pressed to

the sore muscles between my shoulder blades. He worked his
hands between my thighs and kneaded them until the pain
flared again.

I glanced over at Three. He'd rolled on his back and lifted

his arm above his head. A sweet smile lingered on his lips. I
would have grinned like that too if every inch of my body and
been fondled, stroked, and kissed.

I rose off the bed. Master Ophir reached for my hand and

rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. There was a message
in his eyes, but I couldn't read it. It didn't match with the sad
smile on his lips and the slight shake of his head. I wished
he'd say something. Instead, he let go of my hand.

* * * *

Most of the pain of the flogging had faded, but back in the

slave quarters, I sprawled on my stomach on the bed while I

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

tried to figure out what my Sir had been trying to tell me.
Was it something he expected me to know? The longer I lay
there in the dark, the burn ebbing away with each beat of my
pulse, the more confusing it got.

I was almost asleep when Two slid into the room. The

lights were out, but cello music was playing on our MP3
player. It used to be that I didn't like classical music, but like
a lot of things, my Sir taught me to appreciate it. Right then,
the lonely voice of the cello seemed to match how I felt. I
wondered if that's what my Sir heard when he listened. He
couldn't be lonely, could he? Not with a house full of slaves.

"One, are you still awake?" Two whispered.
"Yeah."
From the crack of light at the door, I could see his folded

clothes balanced on his hand. He set them down somewhere
and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Did you have a good time?" I asked.
He turned off the music. "It was good. Saw some friends,

went dancing. But all night long, I was wondering when it
would get fun, you know? They were fighting over a guy they
hadn't even talked to, and acting stupid and posing instead of
just getting out on the floor and dancing. I'm so over the
clubs. Anyway, I'm glad to be home." He moved around the
room without bumping into anything, so he wasn't drunk.

"Where's Three?" Two asked.
"Sleeping with Master Ophir."
Two yawned. "That lucky little shit. It's been over a month

since I've had a night alone with Master Ophir. Guess I'll just
have to ask."

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Ask?"
"Dude, maybe you don't have to ask for time alone with

our Sir, but if it's been too long, I drop hints. I figure he
doesn't mind hearing that I want to be with him, you know?
At least, he's never gone off on me for saying something."

A light finally went off in my head, and I chuckled.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing. I'm just an idiot, that's all," I said. Maybe

that's what my Sir had been trying to tell me.

"Hey, since the brat isn't here, can I sleep in your bed with

you?" Two asked. "My cot is uncomfortable. You're lucky you
rate a real bed. Rank has its privileges, right?"

"Come on." I scooted over to make room for him and lifted

the covers. He climbed in and spooned close. The smell of
cigarettes, beer and sweat clung to his skin, but I didn't mind.
He was warm and his hard body felt good.

He wriggled closer. "I guess it was about time Master

Ophir summoned Three to his room for the night, but now I
have to compete with the new boy and the favorite for bed
time. My life sucks. I'm like the ugly middle child."

"You know you're a real cutie, and I'd hardly call myself

the favorite."

"Oh please. Master Ophir is fond of me, we get along, and

the sex is great, but when my contract ends, he'll show me
the door like he does everyone else. Everyone except you,
'cause you're his favorite. Must be nice."

Maybe my Sir was trying to tell me that, too, earlier. I

wished I knew for sure.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

After a while, Two's breath came deep and even, I slipped

my hand between my thighs to feel my tender skin. "Chris,"
he'd said, and given me the same look he'd given me back in
his bedroom. The pain brought back memory of Master Ophir
whispering my name, like it was a secret code between us.
Maybe I'd hurt him, and the flogger between my thighs was
his way of telling me that I shouldn't have ever doubted that I
was, and always would be, his Number One.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Testing Leather

By Sean Michael
Peter pulled up to into the driveway of normal-looking

suburban home.

The lawn, like its neighbors, was trimmed within an inch of

its life, and perfectly manicured. There wasn't a weed to be
seen. The flowers were bright and colorful, but orderly. The
two-story home looked, more or less, like any other one of
the houses on the block.

He wondered how many of the people living on this street

would be shocked to learn that a premiere leatherworker
created whips and floggers and all manner of wonderful
leather goods in his studio, there.

Peter smiled at Samuel, admiring the short curls and the

black-button eyes, the slender body. His lover was fine. And
that pale skin was going to mark beautifully. It had been too
long since Samuel wore his marks; they'd both been busy.

"This is my friend Marcus' house. Do you know the name?"

Marcus was fairly well-known in BDSM circles.

"Marcus Goodfellow? The big bald man? I saw him once,

working at a rubber ball."

"That's him. He makes whips and stuff here at home.

We're going to choose a flogger or two for you." He hadn't
told Samuel; he'd wanted it to be a surprise.

"We are? Are you friends? Is he nice?" Samuel started

fluttering, making Peter smile.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Yes, yes, and yes." He put his hand on Samuel's thigh.

"And he has a private room where we can test out any item
we want before purchasing it."

"If you'd told me we were meeting a friend, I would have

made muffins or something."

"I wanted it to be a surprise." He leaned over and gave

Samuel a kiss. "And you've been busy enough the last few
days without adding baking."

Samuel's lips clung to his, tongue flicking out to taste him.
"Mmm..." He slid his hand up along Samuel's jaw to cup

his cheek and then slowly ended the kiss. "Ready?"

"Am ... Is this like a scene, lover?"
"It will be. But it will be private. Marcus will show us his

wares, we'll choose what we'd like to try, and then we'll go to
his private room and test things out." He would not spring a
public scene on Samuel. He knew the men in Samuel's past
had, but he did not operate that way.

"Okay." Samuel nodded, squeezing his fingers. "Let's go."
"That's my Samuel." He put his arm around Samuel's waist

as they went up the walkway.

Marcus had the door open for them by the time they got

there. The man was huge, with a wide, happy smile. "Come
in, come in." Marcus was the most joyful man he'd ever met,
totally in love with life, with their lifestyle, with Jim. Pretty,
bookish Jim with the heavy ink and piercings, the long auburn
hair and bright green eyes.

He escorted Samuel in, grinning back—it was impossible

not to. "Marcus, this is my lover Samuel. Samuel, my friend
Marcus, the best leatherworker I know."

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

One huge hand was held out to Samuel and Samuel took

it, smiling. "Nice to meet you."

"Good to meet the man who finally caught Peter's

attention. We've been worried about him being lonely."

"Marcus..." Peter rolled his eyes.
"I'm doing my best to take care of him now." Samuel was

so sweet. It was no wonder Peter loved him.

Jim wandered in, wearing nothing but old jeans, book in

hand. "Oh, you got the door, sir. Good deal. I'll be in the
office..."

"Come meet Peter's man, first." Marcus held out an arm,

Jim fitting perfectly tucked in against him. "This is Samuel."

Jim nodded his hello and then turned, the bright, shocking

colors of the ink surprising, amazing. Peter chuckled softly,
watching the man wander off. Jim had always been too smart
for his own good, in constant trouble, before Marcus found
him and gave that energy a direction.

"So you're looking for a flogger, Peter?"
"Or two or three. Different weights, different strengths ...

Samuel will help me pick the ones we want."

Samuel squeezed his fingers, held on, vibrating a bit.
"Come back to the basement; I had Jim take out the

floggers earlier. And, of course, if you don't find anything you
like, I would be happy to make something to your
specifications." Marcus led them to a room in the basement.
His leatherworking tools were neatly arranged, and on the
large table in the middle of the room were a dozen floggers,
most done in black leather.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

The scent of leather immediately filled his nose. "Oh, look

at these, Samuel."

"So beautiful." Samuel's fingers reached out, sliding on the

table, right beside.

"Go ahead," Marcus boomed. "Touch them. Hold them."
Peter nodded. "Yes, Samuel. Feel them up." He gave his

lover a wink.

"Peter!" Samuel's laughter rang out, joined by Marcus'

heavy chuckle.

Peter chuckled, walking around the table. There were

different lengths of tails, different amounts. Some would thud
hard, others would sting. The softer ones would do no more
than bring a blush of color to Samuel's back. They were all
beautiful, hand-crafted with love.

After a few minutes, he turned to Samuel. "Well?"
Samuel stroked one with tan strips, the handle heavy

wood. Marcus nodded, smiled. "That's elk hide, it will have a
nice firm thud, very little sting. The handle can be used for
insertion."

Peter took it from Samuel and examined it, fingers sliding

along the handle, caressing it as he would Samuel's cock.

"It will leave marks. This one will not—it will just make him

glow. It's safe for a cock, possibly the balls, depending on
how much he can take."

"Oh, my." Peter felt a jolt go through him at the thought.

He took a breath to control himself. "Samuel? Are there any
others you like?"

"They're all beautiful, Peter." Samuel avoided the stiffer

floggers and the ones with knots on the tips.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

He picked one of them up, hefting it.
"What about this one?" He loved pushing Samuel,

expanding his boundaries.

Samuel winced, stepped closer. "It would cut me, Peter. I

can't work if I'm bleeding."

He could accept that; it was the only line Samuel had ever

drawn, one he knew others had crossed without a single
thought to Samuel's mental or physical well-being.

"Then choose one that scares you that will not make you

bleed."

Samuel looked up at Marcus, "Can you tell me which ones

those would be, please?"

"Only the ones with knots will cut you. They're here,"

Marcus pointed to a group with wide and thin tails mixed
together. "These will sting. Some quite badly. But the thicker
tails will thud, so it's a mix."

"Okay. The blue one is pretty, Peter."
Peter's lips twitched and one of his eyebrows went up.

"Pretty..."

Marcus laughed. "Oh, Peter. This one is a keeper."
Samuel's cheeks went red hot, his hands beginning to

flutter. "I ... I didn't ... but it is..."

Peter brought Samuel to him and took a soft kiss. "Shh. It

is pretty. And in a moment we'll find out what it can do."

"You want to try these three, then?" Marcus had the cock

and ball flogger, the heavy-handled one, and the blue one in
his hands.

"We do." Peter nodded.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"I had Jim clean the room this afternoon. It's all yours for

as long as long as you need it."

"That's very nice of you, thank you." Samuel was

shivering, needing him, needing his attention.

"It's soundproof." Marcus gave Samuel a wink and patted

him on the shoulder, leaving them to find their way to the
little room with the red door.

"This is ... this is a little weird, huh? A little unnerving,

being in somebody else's house?" As always, as Samuel
spoke to him, the tension began to ease.

"Once we're through that door, though, it will be just you

and me, and I intend to make you soar. Then it won't matter
where we are, hmm?" Peter stroked Samuel's back and led
him through the red door.

The room inside was simple: a padded bench with cuffs

and rings on the floor, soft lighting.

"Oh. It's nice. Not scary at all."
"No, it's warm, familiar. And we'll both strip." So that

Samuel didn't have to be naked alone in a strange place.

"Okay. Okay. I need a kiss, please."
"Very good, Samuel." They had worked very hard on

Samuel letting Peter know what he needed. Peter drew
Samuel in close, pressed their lips together. Gentle at first,
Peter deepened and hardened the kiss as it went on. Samuel
responded to him, opening, begging for him, loving him and
needing him.

He began to undress Samuel, undoing buttons and tugging

off his shirt.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Love you." Samuel arched, rubbing up against him, cock

hard as stone.

"Good. Very good." He undid Samuel's belt, opened the

top button and carefully worked Samuel's zipper down.

His Samuel was hard for him, wet-tipped and leaking,

throbbing in his hand.

"Mmm..." He wrapped his fingers around that heat,

stroked. "Can you imagine how it's going to feel as that little
flogger hits your cock and balls?"

"I. No. No, Peter. That..." Samuel gave him a little grin.
Peter chuckled. "Yes. Yes. It's going to be brilliant."
"Have you done that before?" Peter knew what that

translated into. That meant: do you know how hard to hit?

"Trust me, Samuel."
"I do." Samuel's hands were offered over, sweet as

anything.

Peter kissed them and then led Samuel over to the bench,

helping him to lie on his back and cuffing those lovely hands
up over Samuel's head. It stretched Samuel out for him, gave
him all that skin to look at, to touch.

"Love you," Samuel said again. Samuel's cock throbbed,

bobbing for him, catching his attention.

"Yes. And I love you."
He picked up the little flogger and trailed it up from

Samuel's foot. Those long toes curled, Samuel chuckling.
Grinning, he gave the bottom of Samuel's foot a slap with the
flogger. He could see Samuel stop, consider the sting, then
relax, humming a bit.

Excellent.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

He continued to glide the flogger tails up along Samuel's

legs, teasing the sensitive flesh on the inside of Samuel's
thighs. The skin there pinked up, the lean muscles shifting
and rippling. He teased Samuel's balls, his cock, and kept
moving up.

"Is it ... is it good for you?"
He could smell Samuel's need.
"It's wonderful for me, Samuel. To have you stretched out

for me, trusting me."

"You love me." The words were said as if they explained

everything.

"I do." It was as simple as that. And as complicated.
Peter brushed the flogger over Samuel's nipples, and then

let the flogger fly, the tails thudding softly. He loved that, the
way Samuel's body arched, bucked for him. He hit again,
making sure to hit Samuel's nipple. The skin went pale for a
second, and then the blood rushed to it, making it a sweet,
deep rose.

"Oh, Samuel. Stunning ... simply stunning..." He moved

lower, hitting Samuel's belly.

"Sir. Peter. Love!"
Peter hit again and again, little welts rising up. He gentled

the touch, letting the flogger hit Samuel's prick. His lover
went perfectly still, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Balls now." As the words ended, he flicked the flogger

across Samuel's tight, sensitive balls.

Samuel's legs drew up, a soft cry sounding. Peter took

advantage of the tilt of Samuel's hips to flick the flogger

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

across the base of Samuel's ass, just right where it met the
tops of his thighs.

"Mmm." Samuel bucked, moaning happily.
His lover liked that sting.
Peter did it again and then dragged the leather back up to

hit Samuel's cock. He'd get to that sweet ass. After Samuel
had come and they moved to one of the stronger floggers.
Soft little sounds filled the air, Samuel starting to move under
the blows. Peter kept it mixed up, hitting Samuel's cock and
balls, between his legs, his belly and nipples, shoulders.

Samuel's lovely skin was soon a beautiful, deep rose.
"Peter. Peter, love..." Samuel's hips were bucking, rolling,

punching the air.

"You need to come, don't you, love?" Peter hit Samuel's

cock and balls again with a single flick. "You may."

"Yes!"
It took three more blows, his lover's need always caught

up, needing help. When it happened, Samuel screamed, heat
pouring.

The scent of him made Peter moan, his own cock hard, full

of need. But he could wait.

He rubbed Samuel's come into the rose-colored skin, the

heat of it warming his fingers. Samuel groaned for him,
relaxing, shivering a little. Bending, he offered Samuel a kiss,
tongue sweeping through Samuel's hot little mouth. Samuel
tugged against the cuffs, pushing into the kiss, his hunger
obvious.

"We need to test the stinging flogger now, Samuel. On

your stomach. I won't leave you empty and wanting, though."

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Smiling, Peter ran his hands over Samuel's skin,

encouraging and helping Samuel to turn on the bench. There
was enough give in the cuffs that his wrists weren't hurt.

"I love you, Sir. Peter." Samuel's ass was perfect—

rounded, pale, his.

He kissed one ass cheek. "Love you."
Peter found the lube on a small shelf near the door and

slicked up the wooden handle of the tan flogger and his
fingers. Sliding two along Samuel's crack, Peter hummed at
the heat of his lover's body. Samuel moved easily, begging
for his touch, begging to be filled. Peter slid both fingers into
that sweet little hole, pushing deep and twisting, searching
for the spot that would make Samuel howl. He found it,
pegging the flat gland, rubbing it over and over as he drove
his baby insane.

"No one takes to sensation the way you do, Samuel. No

one." Pain, pleasure, the simple glide of a hand on hot skin,
Samuel loved it all.

"I want you. More than anything."
"I know." It was a heady feeling. "You'll take the handle

first, love. So I can use this other flogger on you."

"I ... That means you'll have to buy it, for sure."
"It was the first one you chose; of course I'm buying it."

He added another finger in, stretching Samuel.

"Oh ... Okay. Good. I liked it. I liked the feel of it."
He let the tails swish over Samuel's back. Samuel's hips

bucked, back muscles rippling. "Mmm..." Oh, it was going to
be magnificent when he used the heavier flogger. For now, he
teased the end of the handle against Samuel's ass.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Smooth." That little hole pushed back, almost kissing the

tip of the handle.

Groaning softly, Peter pressed a little harder, letting

Samuel have the first inch or two. Samuel's moan rang out
through the room, little wrinkled hole spreading for him.

"That's it, love." He kept pushing, his own cock getting

harder as the handle went deeper.

"I want you."
Yes, but Peter could see how much Samuel wanted this,

too.

He pulled the handle almost all the way out, and then

pushed it back in, almost to the hilt. The dark curls bobbed as
Samuel threw his head back, throat working. Peter continued
to thrust the handle in and out until Samuel began to writhe
from it. The tails stroked Samuel's thighs with every motion,
and he knew it must be driving Samuel mad.

Finally, he sat it deep inside Samuel's body, his fingers

stroking along the sweet, pale buttocks. They would not be
pale for long.

"Need. Need you." That little hole squeezed the handle.
He kissed one ass cheek, and then the other, fiddling with

the handle, just a little, just enough to make Samuel crazy.
"And now the flogger that thuds and stings."

"Y ... yes. Yes, love."
His brave love. Peter stroked Samuel's spine, and then let

the blue flogger fly, the large tails making a satisfying
thudding noise, the thinner ones no doubt stinging harshly.

Samuel cried out, jerked. "Peter!"

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Yes, love. Let me hear you." He loved what a beating did

to Samuel.

"It burns."
"I'm sure it does." He let the flogger hit again.
"I. I can't. Please." Samuel jerked away, legs kicking.
"You can." He let the flogger fly again, the sound as it hit

rather wonderful.

"No!" The scream was panicked, magnificent, but the

tension in Samuel's lean body eased.

Peter didn't bother to argue anymore with words. Instead,

he kept whipping Samuel with the flogger, moving it down
along Samuel's back, over his buttocks and across the back of
his thighs. Samuel arched and pulled, screamed and writhed,
the sight driving Peter mad with need. The thin, stinging tails
left welts behind them, the wider ones leaving a deep red, the
blood drawn to the surface.

Peter hit Samuel a few more times, the noise of the flogger

as it hit Samuel's ass making the coil of heat in his belly
tighten. He heard the soft sob, the signal that Samuel was
close to the edge.

"One more, love. One more and then I'll have you, take

you to the sky."

"One. For you."
"No, for you." He laid the stripe down, the solid thump

echoed by Samuel's scream.

Peter straddled the bench and slowly worked out the

handle. Samuel shuddered, shook, sobbing softly as the
heavy wood was removed.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"You're beautiful, Samuel. Stunning." He ran his hands

over Samuel's back, fingers pressing against the welts.

"Just yours."
"Yes. Mine." He grabbed hold of Samuel's hips and pressed

his need against the hot little hole.

Samuel bucked, riding him, taking him in deep. Oh,

demanding baby. Peter worked the rest of the way in, his hips
pressing hard against the heat of Samuel's ass. Groaning, he
ran his hands up his baby's spine. Swollen and heated, that
tight skin fascinated his hands.

Peter started moving, pushing into Samuel as he traced

one welt after another. Samuel rocked back onto him,
motions a little slower, a little tentative.

He leaned over, bit at Samuel's earlobe. "Take what you

need, Samuel."

"Uncuff me? I can't ... I can't push back and it's slick."
"Good boy," he murmured, praising Samuel for telling

what he needed, as he reached up to undo the cuffs as
requested.

"Thank you. Thank you, sir." Samuel pressed back against

him with a happy moan, rocking slowly.

"Mmm..." He rubbed his cheek against Samuel's back, the

heat amazing. His hips pushed, meeting Samuel's
movements, letting his baby set the pace.

This wasn't insane or furious; he could feel Samuel with

him, making love with him. They slowly started rocking
faster, increasing the pace together. It felt so good. It always
did.

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"Love." Samuel's body squeezed him tight, rippling around

him.

"Yes. Yes." Peter thrust harder, thumbs digging into

Samuel's ass.

His lover gave him everything—body, heart, mind and

soul, even as their skin slapped together. Peter pulled Samuel
up hard against his hips, pushing his hand beneath Samuel's
body and grabbing his prick. Hard, wet-tipped, hot as fire—
that cock rubbed against his palm.

"Together." He squeezed, his fingers finding Samuel's slit,

pressing into it.

"Yes..." The word was whispered, heat pouring over his

hand.

Samuel's body squeezed tight around Peter's cock, milking

his orgasm right out of him. They dropped together on the
bench with a plop, their skin slapping together. Peter panted,
breathing Samuel in, hand sliding on Samuel's hip.

"So good, love."
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Mmm ... thank you." He kissed Samuel's neck and pulled

out slowly.

Samuel hissed, moaned a bit. "Are we getting all three?"
"You enjoyed all three, right?"
"I..." Those dark eyes stared at him. "I think so? I ... I

loved the first two and the last one ... It was..."

"Intense. It pushed you to your boundaries." He gave

Samuel a soft kiss. "It expanded our trust."

"Yeah. Yeah. Can ... can we go home? To our shower? Our

bed? Please, Peter."

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

"We can." He smiled. "I am so proud of you."
"Me? I. Why?"
"Because you came to a strange place and trusted me to

do a scene with you here. You trusted me to use the flogger
on your cock and balls."

"I'm yours." Samuel moved slowly, carefully. "Take me

home."

"Always, Samuel. Always."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

Contributors' Bios

Jay Lygon
Jay Lygon has published over thirty erotic short stories

under various names. They can be found in print in the
anthologies Hot Cops and Inside Him, on Clean Sheets and
the Erotica Readers and Writers Association websites, and
now at Torquere! Chaos Magic is Jay's first novel. Look for its
sequel Love Runes released in May 08 from Torquere.

Sean Michael
Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of

Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean
Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his
immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day
retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by
horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay
pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours
between dropping the f-bomb and perusing the kama sutra by
channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing
along with the soundtrack to "Chicago." Check out Sean's
webpage at www.seanmichaelwrites.com/

Chris Owen
A lover of putting words together since the early days of

using crayons, Chris Owen has passed that stage and now
uses a computer, which is far less messy. Thankfully, the
words go together a little better now as well. The author of
several books, Chris Owen writes mainly about gay characters
in many different genres ranging from modern day tales to

Toy Box: Flogger

by Sean Michael, Chris Owen, Jay Lygon

historical romance. How one defines one's family is a common
theme in Chris' work, and often the answer is that blood is
not as thick as water.