Once again it's time for some smexy lines for #MySexySaturday. As of late I've been teasing you all with my FemDom stories, but this week I figured I'd do something a little bit different and bring you some yummy m/m snippet from my current WIP in progress. For those of you who are familiar with my Doms of Chicago series, these characters aren't strangers. Master Rai and his sub, Bryan made their first appearance in the Nisey's Awakening and then later in the series, we're introduced to a silent but deadly Native American switch, Hark. So for those of you familiar with the Doms of Chicago, pull up a chair and enjoy a sneak peek of what happens when the past collides with the present - with unexpected results. Because remember whether it's seven words, seven sentences or even seven paragraphs, it's all about the heat. It can be sweet or it can be down right naughty - everyone has their own opinion of what is sexy.
Anyway enjoy my sexy seven and be sure to stop by the other peeps blogs. Gotta keep hopping!
“Please, Master!”
The desperate plea echoed through the main room drew Hark out of
his thoughts. From his position he could see the blond man manacled to the
pillory. His strong back, bare and glistening had several red stripes already
as the man twisted sensually against his bonds. Instead of trying to get away,
the man was trying to get closer to the kiss of the whip. In his pants, his
cock stirred at the sight. He couldn’t decide if it was the because he wanted
to be the one administering the lashing the man was begging for or the fact
it'd been over two years since he'd felt the lash against his own skin. His
reprieve from his lusts was over. His body once again craved the illusive
pleasure he experienced in the past. He hadn’t felt anything remotely
resembling desire since the Rotthaus’s deaths.
Shifting a bit, he stepped further back into the shadows,
blending into them as if second nature. His leather pants wouldn't hide his
semi-erect cock and the last thing he wanted was for one of the un-collared
subs to see it and offer themselves to him as several had when he'd first come
into the club. He’d promised Zhenya he’d try, but found himself unable to
accept what they offered. Instead he found himself taking baby steps to see if
he was ready to move on. The woman who’d offered herself had been tempting but
it took more than lust to stir him into engaging in a scene. He needed more
than physical desire - he needed the connection he'd found with only two men
and one woman in his entire lifetime. Now with two of them dead, and third unable
to handle his needs he found himself once again looking for the trust, the
acceptance he struggled to live without.
Watching as the man’s Dom, dressed in all black drew his arm
back, Hark’s sixth sense tingled. The man with his shoulder length hair
gathered into a tight braid, reminded him of a ghost from his past. The hair
rose on the back of his neck. The fluid motions of the man's body seemed almost
dream-like as he effortless flicked the single-tail, dancing it along the skin
of his submissive. His weary soul recognized the man without even seeing his
face. It can't be. Not now after all I've
gone through. Mother Earth wouldn't be that cruel.
Then need to confirm or deny the possibility of it being his
former Master, he kept to the shadows and skirted the edge of the gathering
crowd, not that anyone was paying attention to the nearly six and half feet of
Native American when such a scene was going on. All eyes were focused on the
man being whipped and if it was who he thought it was, his former Master had
only grown in his prowess with the single-tail since they parted ways. Finally
in a position to get a glimpse of the man without being seen, he sucked in a
deep breath as both pain and euphoria hit him simultaneously.
It was him. Danchi Rai.
The man who un-collared him over ten years ago.
His cock which had been semi-hard just watching the whipping turned to stone in his pants. His body swayed forward, the familiar draw of his first master potent as it had been the first time he'd spotted the slim Asian man across a smoky bar outside of Tucson.
©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.