Page 66 of Knox's Boy

Crack.

"Three. We are partners. We share the burdens."

It hurt as fuck. I yelped, my mouth open but soundless for a moment, the air rushing straight out of my lungs. The pain was exquisite, a line of flame that overlapped the others and made my whole body jerk against the desk. I tasted salt, realized I was already crying. I tried to breathe through it, to keep still, but the anticipation was worse than the belt itself. The next swish in the air made me flinch before it even landed.

Crack.

"Four."

"Oh God," I moaned, shifting my hips, trying to escape the heat, but knowing I had to stay put.

Knox's hand settled on my back, warm and steadying. "Stay still, little one," he murmured, his thumb brushing a gentle arc against my skin. "Just breathe through it."

Crack.

"Five."

Tears began to leak from my eyes, dripping onto the polished wood. I bit down hard on my lower lip, desperate not to bawl outright.

Crack.

"Six." Knox said, the belt landing with a snap that made me cry out loud, a jagged sob ripping from my throat. It hurt so fucking much, it heated my whole body.

My cock was so fucking hard.

Crack.

"Seven. This is for the risk you took driving it with the mirror like that."

"I'm sorry," I sobbed, my forehead resting against the cool wood. "I'm so sorry, Daddy."

"I know, sweetheart," Knox said. “You're doing very well.”

Crack.

"Eight."

The pain was a white-hot haze now, blurring the edges of the room. I floated in it. I didn't realize how much I was holding my breath until it escaped in a single, shuddering gasp. The heat radiated across the skin, each blow stacking on the last until I didn't know where one stripe ended and the next began. My knees wobbled, barely keeping me upright.

"Nnnnhhh," I groaned, unable to form words. My eyes burned, my face wet. I knew he'd only stop if I safeworded. And I wouldn't do that. Part of me, a crazy, irrational part, didn't want it to ever stop, no matter how bad it got.

Crack.

"Nine."

"Please, Daddy," I whimpered, not asking him to stop, just begging for... something. For him. For the end. For him to continue. I didn't know.

I felt his hand rest gently on my back. "Last one, sweet boy," he whispered, his voice suddenly tender. "Then we're done."

The final stroke was the hardest to take, not because he hit harder than before, just because it felt like too much, a searing line that crossed the others.

"Done," Knox said. The belt hit the desk with a heavy thud. He soothed me with his heavy hand caressing my back. “Shh, it's okay. You did so, so well.”

I stayed bent over, gasping for air, snot and tears mingling on my face. My backside throbbed in time with my heartbeat, a pulsating heat.

"Up," Knox coaxed gently. His hands were on my waist, helping me straighten.

I turned, stumbling, and fell into him. He caught me easily, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me tight against his chest. I buried my face in his sweater, the soft fabric instantly dampening with my tears. I sobbed, ugly and loud.