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heartache.
He could still feel his master's eyes on him, though, and
he knew that Master Serius would not miss a single
movement, the tiniest breath. It took a few movements,
then he was going, soaring, moving beyond the room he
was in. It almost felt as if he brought his master with
him.
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By the final movements, he was sheened with sweat,
entire body awake and aware.
"That was lovely, my dragon." Serius held a towel out to
him.
"Thank you." He wiped his face, willed his breath to
slow.
Serius disappeared, returning a moment later with a
bottle of water and another cloth, this one damp. Giving
him the water, his master began to rub him down. He
drank deeply, his skin alive and tingling from the
attention in a way it never had been before.
"There. Five minutes to make sure you're in the right
head space, and then my Beauty and I will make your
skin sing."
"Yes, Sir." He would do his best.
Serius left him, but returned five minutes later and asked
him to bend over, his hands on his knees. He leaned,
mind going back to that empty, silent, safe space.
"If you need to make noise, I would like to hear your
cries."
He shivered, nodded. "Yes, Sir." He could not cry out
and keep his center. He could not.
"Ready?"
"Yes, Sir."
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"Very good." The crop hit his ass, the snap sharp.
He sucked in a quick breath, hands clenching on his
knees.
Serius didn't just indiscriminately lay down the crop, the
hits came slowly, carefully. Each one was placed exactly
where his master wanted it.
Quiet. Silent. Centered. Controlled. Please.
The back of his neck. His shoulders. His lower back. His
ass cheeks. The backs of his thighs, knees and calves.
He couldn't make out the pattern, but felt there was one.
Then Serius stopped, spread the comforter from the bed
onto the floor. "Lie down on your back."
His stomach clenched, and he had to force himself to
move, to shift. So hard. So difficult. Serius' hand was
there to guide him, though, and when his back touched
the comforter, it seemed shockingly cold. His breath left
him, the muscles in his chest tight.
"Breathe, Leung."
His eyes were open, staring up into Serius'. They were
warm and full of confidence -- his master believed he
could do this. His muscles relaxed, and he took a deep,
deep breath.
"Yes, my dragon. Very good."
Serius let his crop fly, again each hit placed very
Velvet Dragon - 89
deliberately. Several criss-crossed over his chest, one
touching his nipple and making it burn. His belly
tightened, his breath pushing out of him. Two hits
landed on his stomach after his breath left him, then
once on each thigh and across both shins.
He closed his eyes, fighting desperately for his center.
Then Serius laid down two blows to the soles of his feet.
They were quick and short and sharper than anything so
far. Leung bit out a curse, his entire body shuddering as
he fought not to strike out.
"Well done, Leung." Serius bowed briefly and then held
out a hand to him.
He was panting, sweating, and he desperately needed a
moment alone to center, but he took his master's hand.
Serius pulled him up onto his feet, the welts left by the
crop indeed feeling like pins in his soles.
"Light pants and no top or shoes. We'll break our fast
downstairs where everyone can see and admire my
beautiful dragon."
No. No, he needed a breath. "Yes, Sir."
"I'll meet you by the door in five minutes."
"Yes, Sir." He waited until the door closed, then he went
to the bathing room and poured water over his face and
head.
Each of the welts from his master's crop stung; it would
have been easier if there had been more, if they'd all
blended into one pain. He cleansed himself in icy water,
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the shock easing the sting, enough to relax him. By the
time he'd done that, his five minutes were nearly up.
He slipped on a pair of loose pants and bound his queue,
clipped on a bracelet.
When he came out, his master was already waiting by
the door. "Ah, there you are."
"Yes, Sir." His mind was whirling inside his skull,
spinning.
Serius smiled and put a hand on his lower back, right in
a patch of skin that had no welts. They went out
together, the lift stopping almost immediately at their
floor. He focused on settling himself, on his breathing.
How difficult this new world was. How interesting.
Serius escorted him into the lift and down to the public
dining room. The place was about half-full. Many of the
members at the club stayed up until late. Master Katashi
and his submissive were there, though, and they waved
Serius over.
"Master Serius. Bright morning. Leung."
He bowed to Master Katashi, bending deeply.
"Good morning, Katashi, Glous. May we join you to
break our fast?" his Master asked.
"Of course. It is a lovely day. The dawn was spectacular
this morning." Master Katashi had perfect control, an
unshakable center.
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Master Serius seated him, the crop marks dark against
his skin under the morning lights. "We enjoyed our
morning as well," Serius noted with a smile for him.
"I can see that. He marks beautifully."
Leung ducked his head, confused, unsure of his
response.
"He does. He endures it beautifully as well. I've never
known anyone so stoic."
"Years of training. Release is often more a challenge
than control."
"Yes, I believe you're right in your assessment." Serius
nodded to a waiter who was hovering. "We'll have the
fruit plate and grains in milk for two."
Leung focused on the beat of his heart, on the feel of the
lights shining warmly down on him. Serius' hand slid
down along his back, the touch on the welts making the
pain of them sharp. His skin shivered, and he didn't
know what to do.
"I want you to feel it, my dragon."
"Yes, Sir."
Master Katashi's man tsked softly. "So difficult, at that
stage. Everything is so different."
Serious tilted his head. "Did you have trouble adjusting,
Glous?"
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"Of course, Sir. You must find the balance between
control and release. The emotions that I felt battered at
me, but I needed to feel them to find my center."
"It's lovely to see how well the two of you fit together
now. Is it not, Leung?"
"Yes, Master." He met Master Katashi's eyes, briefly,
needing something to tell him he was walking the right
path.
Katashi gave him the barest smile, head dipping almost
imperceptibly. Leung dropped his eyes again, slowing
his breath, focusing on his toes, on the arches of his feet.
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