Angel and the Assassin 3: Sins of the Father

reservations about being hooded. It wasn’t the lack of sight
    but the thought of his air being cut off that frightened him.
    “The open one, please, Sir.”
    “As you wish, boy.” Angel’s eyes never left Daddy as he fetched the hood, one of
    several Daddy owned, from the wooden heads on the shelf that kept the hoods in
    perfect shape. Angel always felt a moment of panic when the hood slid over his head,
    fitting closely and perfectly, clinging to his head and smoothing over his face. His
    breathing always slowed again when he knew his mouth and nose were free. “Good
    boy, Angel,” Daddy said gently. Daddy knew the hood was the one thing that set off
    Angel’s fear response. They had discussed it before.
    Bound and sightless, his perfect hearing dulled slightly by the leather pressing
    over his ears, Angel waited, unable now even to guess what Daddy would do next.
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    Aroused by his helplessness, Angel’s cock rose, stiff and blood-filled again. He waited
    for Daddy to put a cock ring on him, but Daddy didn’t.
    A great cry of fear erupted from Angel’s throat against his will. His feet were off
    the ground, and he was being turned upside down. Everything in him rebelled against
    his sudden disequilibrium.
    “Stay calm, boy.” Daddy’s voice filtered through the sound of blood rushing in his
    ears and the distraction of adrenaline coursing through his muscles.
    Daddy was holding him upside down, with his body pressed close to Daddy’s
    chest. Then Daddy’s solid presence was gone and Angel was swinging gently. He knew
    the spreader bar was securely attached to the two hooks overhead. His head must be a
    couple of feet above the floor.
    The strangest mixture of freedom and restriction engulfed him.
    Daddy walked silently even in shoes. In bare feet, he walked like a ghost. Angel
    had no idea where Daddy was. Calming himself, he tried to focus his senses. Then a
    very subtle warmth shimmered behind him. Daddy was there. Angel could feel his
    body heat.
    Two strong hands pried Angel buttocks apart, and he pondered for a moment the
    strange pleasure of being fucked upside down. Something cold and strange slid into
    Angel’s anus, aided only by its own slippery surface. It was small and annoying rather
    than big and warm, filling his ass the way he loved it to be filled. It felt as if it was
    notched in such a way that it stuck partway in and partway out. He almost said Daddy,
    what is that before quickly clamping his lips shut. Whatever it was, Daddy wanted it
    there, and that was all that mattered. With one hand, Daddy gently pushed Angel, and
    he began to swing, not high, just a foot or so and back again. The rhythm was gentle
    and comforting, back and forth.
    A burning sensation began slowly in Angel’s anus. At first he thought it was the
    coldness of the tiny dildo or whatever it was. But it was no longer cold. It was hot and
    quickly becoming unbearable. Between his clamped lips, Angel began to moan. He
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    didn’t want to disobey Daddy, but the sudden intense desire to get the object out of his
    anus made him push. It didn’t budge.
    A deep, warm chuckle told him Daddy was close by and watching. The only way
    to keep from crying out was to pant. Daddy pushed him gently again to keep him
    swinging. The burning became a powerful irritation that made Angel squirm, wiggling
    his hips and pushing outward to try to rid himself of the object. This was no longer
    about pleasing Daddy. It was about relief.
    Then it came, an agonizing pain, just one blow across his buttocks. Unable to
    control his reaction, Angel screamed. He had felt so peaceful, bound, hanging upside
    down like a bat, swinging lightly. He wanted to return to the tranquility of those first
    moments of utter peace. The hot, evil, burning irritation in his anus made it impossible
    to drift into subspace. It kept him present whether he wanted it or not. The pain
    stopped, but the burning in his anus was relentless.
    “How much pain can you take without going into subspace?” It was the question
    Daddy had started their session with.
    “I can’t go anywhere with my ass itching and burning like this. I feel like I’m on
    fire inside.” Silence greeted his words, and then he remembered his manners. “Sir,” he
    added quietly.
    “Good boy.” The comforting feel of Daddy’s big hand on his thighs brought tears
    to his eyes.
    “How do you feel, boy? And