* * *
When Killian flicked the tip of his member, Nael’s eyelids flew open in surprise.
“Watch.”
“Hnn… ah, mm… ah….”
A rough palm smacked against Nael’s cock, tapping it with brisk, deliberate motions.
It seemed intent on reviving his softened length, unbothered by hesitation.
Nael gasped, his breath ragged as his hips jerked slightly.
The thin skin of his shaft wrinkled and smoothed against the firm curve of the hand wrapped around him.
Heat gradually built up, sending blood surging back into his cock.
Droplets of clear fluid formed at the flushed tip, flicking outward with each subtle stroke of the large palm.
A faint whimper escaped Nael as his restless hands found Killian’s waist, pulling him close in a desperate hold.
His legs trembled, too weak to support him properly, and he clung to Killian as if hanging on for balance.
Smack! A sharp slap landed on his ass.
“Hngh…”
Smack! Smack!
The rhythm of the firm strokes didn’t let up as Killian continued stroking him off, punctuating the motion with the occasional slap.
Nael had long since grown accustomed to this habit of Killian’s—he often enjoyed spanking him even during their usual lovemaking.
There was no resistance, no hesitation—only the concentrated heat pooling in Nael’s core.
The moment his lower abdomen tensed in the telltale signs of climax, Killian’s hand abruptly stopped.
“Why did you stop…?”
If he was touched just a little more, he could have climaxed, but his cock, deprived of stimulation, trembled in the air, silently begging to be handled.
He wanted to force Killian’s hand back onto his aching length, to demand it—tell him he wanted to cum.
But instead of voicing the words lingering on the tip of his tongue, he simply lifted his drooping eyes in a pitiful plea.
“You still have your punishment to finish.”
“Yes…”
Killian’s palm was slick, smeared with the sticky precum that had leaked from Nael’s cock.
With a smirk, he wiped his hand on Nael’s stomach.
Nael was always like this—compared to his size, he always made such a mess.
Once the dam was broken, every thrust would have him spurting uncontrollably.
And whenever Killian teased him about it, he’d flush with embarrassment, tears brimming in his eyes, yet his arousal would only heighten, making him leak even more.
A natural-born deviant—there was never a dull moment with him.
Nael’s stomach glistened, coated in the thick, sticky evidence of his desire.
“For something so small, you sure cum a lot.”
“Please, don’t say such shameful things…”
The lingering pleasure of being denied at the last moment had him rubbing his thighs together.
He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to reach down and touch himself.
He hadn’t forgotten—he was still being punished.
If he pushed any further, if he angered Killian enough to strike him or worse, to walk out of this room, he couldn’t bear it.
“Stand up straight.”
He stood before Killian with a resolute expression—or at least, he tried to.
His eyes were swollen red from crying for a long time, and his lips, bitten down in an attempt to suppress his emotions, were tinged with the color of blood.
His breath came in short, uneven gasps.
And yet, Killian’s arousal, standing firm like an arrow pointing unerringly at its master, left no room for hesitation.
“Relax.”
“Haa….”
Killian’s large hand flicked against the flushed, straining length, making a sharp sound.
“Ah…!” Nael gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily.
A sting spread from where he was struck, but mixed within it was a strange, tingling heat.
His body ached with an unbearable tightness, an urgent need.
The fleeting sensation of Killian’s touch, there and gone in an instant, left him aching for more.
A sharp, wet sound rang through the air.
Nael nearly collapsed, his legs momentarily giving out in shock at the unexpected lash.
He quickly steadied himself, adjusting his posture as his knee twisted slightly out of place.
He had said he would trust Killian, but the fear didn’t subside so easily.
Even knowing he wouldn’t be hurt beyond his limits, he couldn’t control his trembling heart.
Lowering his head, he looked down at his own body, exposed to punishment.
“Agh!”
With a single lash, the still air around them shifted in an instant.
The impact was stronger this time, and he instinctively rubbed his burning thigh with both hands.
His legs shook violently, as if struck by an earthquake.
Tears spilled over, welling up until the corners of his eyes turned red, looking on the verge of breaking into raw soreness.
“Hngh, it hurts…”
His tearful, scrunched-up face was beautiful, but Killian couldn’t afford to simply indulge in it forever.
Nael still had much to learn.
If he stopped here, it would only hinder his progress.
Without hesitation, Killian cut through his desperate attempt to plead for relief.
“If you lower your head again, the next strike will be on your face.”
“Yes… I-I’ll endure.”
Nael, desperate to stay in Killian’s favor, ignored the scorching heat spreading across his thigh and forced himself to hold his position.
“Ten strokes. Count them.”
“Yes.”
He could endure it.
No—he had to.
Even if Killian changed his mind and struck down harder, he couldn’t let it hit his face.
He lifted his wavering gaze and met Killian’s eyes.
A firm determination was etched onto Killian’s pale face as he curled his lips into a smile.
“You can do it, right?”
“Yes, Master.”
It was a desperate answer.
Even if the rope Killian had thrown him was nothing more than a rotten lifeline, Nael had to grab onto it.
His entire fate lay in Killian’s grasp.
Like a slave who had forgotten his own will, he forced himself to submit, convincing himself to endure the winter obediently.
The color slowly returned to his once pale, snow-white face.
“Ng! One… two… three… ngh.”
The whip struck his cock—lightly.
The force wasn’t strong, but each lash brushed against the skin with a vague pain.
It was an odd kind of sting, like being pinched, yet at the same time, the sight of the whip coiling around his shaft, the way Killian wielded it with precision, was strangely arousing.
“Four… five… hngh, Master.”
A peculiar heat and pain began creeping up his spine.
He rubbed his knees together and checked Killian’s expression.
“Six… hngh.”
The lashes continued without pause, even as his posture faltered.
Deep inside, his cock burned as if an ember had been buried within it.
His swollen lips trembled, his desire to touch himself nearly unbearable.
He clenched his hands tightly behind his back, interlocking his fingers until his knuckles turned white.
“Seven…”
Apart from the relief that he only had to endure three more strikes, Killian’s relentless whipping became fuel, fanning the embers inside him.
“Eight… nine…”
Nael anxiously stomped his feet.
He tightened his lower abdomen, repeating to himself that he just had to endure one more.
A part of him even held onto the hope that if he took the punishment well, he might be rewarded with a more lenient treatment.
But why was his body getting aroused from being punished?
He couldn’t find an answer, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off Killian.
* * *
