This week we're supposed to be showcasing that special first moment between a couple or other milestone that highlights one person's decision to step out on the romantic limb for another. In my current WIP, I just recently wrote a scene between Hark and Bryan where we see the turning point as Hark as coaxed back into the lifestyle he once loved. This little snippet is from what they call 'aftercare' in the lifestyle. Enjoy and don't forget to stop at the rest of the contributors.
Hark cradled the silently sobbing man in his arms. After removing not only the gag but the silk tie as well, he’d pulled Bryan’s pants up enough to cover his hot ass – not bothering with the fastener and sank into the large plush executive chair. Using concentric circles as he rubbed Bryan’s back, he hummed an old Native American chant his mother had used to sing to him as a child. While he waited for Bryan to come back down from the height he’d flown, Hark ignored each fresh wave of tears that wet the planes of his chest. The emotional release the spanking had offered had done more than give Bryan needed relief, it also soothed the wounded part left deep within Hark – buried memories surrounding the loss of his family.
Rocking back and forth as the tears slowly dried up, Hark idly wished for a bottle of water or even a warm blanket to comfort Bryan. His little one was coming back to him. He kept up the humming, knowing from personal experience how rough it could be. The little comforts a Dom could offer went a long way to making a sub feel safe.
The croaked sound of the honorific had the song dying in his throat.
“Hmmm?” He continued to rub Bryan’s back.
The fingers resting against his abs seemed to clench. “I…” Bryan’s head lifted, exposing his moist blue eyes. The calm acceptance in their depths hadn’t been there earlier. “Thank you, Sir.” Then his head dropped back down.
“You’re welcome.” Hark rested his chin on the top of Bryan’s tousled curls and savored the intimacy – despite the ache in his cock that came from having a man he desired sitting on his lap. He wasn’t ready to give it up quite yet.
©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.