Dirty Laundry: A Tucker Springs Novel #3

he started to shout, so loudly that he faltered, and it wasn’t until he fell out of the space that he realized he’d been in a kind of pain-haze, a beautiful zone where it was okay to yell.
    Denver yanked him right back into it.
    “Shouting is okay, baby. My neighbors have heard it all. In fact they’ve probably been wondering why it’s been so damn quiet.” He tweaked Adam’s shoulder. “Say the count again, and no more worrying about anything but what number you’re on and whether or not you’ve thanked me for beating the shit out of your ass.”
    Adam did as he was told. He did yell, a lot, and when he got to seventeen he began to shake. It hurt so bad . He was so weak that Denver had to brace him under his belly with his knee, keeping him from collapsing so he could take the beating. He wanted to make it stop, wanted to say red and make this end, except he didn’t need to make it stop, and really he wasn’t sure he truly wanted it to, not really , so he didn’t say the word. He breathed hard and whined and yelped and swore and shouted and whimpered, and he counted and said, “Thank you, Sir,” until he’d said it for the twentieth time.
    Denver smoothed a hand over Adam’s back, let it travel up to his head. “Good boy. It’s done.”
    That was when Adam finally cried.
    It started as a sniffle, a burble of emotion that caught in his chest, and then it came out: soft, bone-weary sobs that made him collapse. Denver didn’t embrace him, only kept stroking his back, easing his knee out and letting Adam down onto the carpet.
    The carpet that was probably dirty. But it didn’t matter, because the only thing that mattered was it’s done . The words kept ringing in his head. It’s done. It’s done . Why the hell they made him feel so good, he couldn’t say, but they were more freeing than any order Denver had ever given him, any of the bossing around, any sex, anything.
    It’s done . And it was, it really was. Even Adam’s OCD was weeping in relief.
    He felt something cool and soothing on his ass, which he became aware was burning as if it’d been set on fire. Denver was rubbing something on his skin with a tenderness that made him ache all over again.
    “That feels good,” Adam said when he was able to speak again. “Sir.”
    “This is called aftercare,” Denver told him. He slipped Adam’s glasses back carefully onto his face. “If you ever play with anybody and they don’t do this, never play with them again.”
    Adam shut his eyes, surrendering to the wonderful feel of lotion or whatever it was against his skin. “I don’t want to play with anyone else.”
    Denver’s hand paused, and he reached up with his other hand to squeeze Adam’s shoulder. “Me either.”
    They didn’t say anything else through the rest of the aftercare, not until a flash of light startled Adam. He didn’t realize what it was until Denver came around to his front, grinning as he held up his cell phone. On its screen was a picture of Adam’s ass. His fire-engine-red ass.
    “Holy shit,” Adam whispered.
    Denver’s grin went wider. “Beautiful, isn’t it? You’re going to hurt for days whenever you sit. And every time you do, you’ll think how you’re not a bad boyfriend, not anymore.”
    Adam thought he was going to cry again. Emotion choked his throat, and he kissed the closest bit of Denver he could reach while still half collapsed on the floor, which meant he kissed Denver’s elbow.
    Denver bent and kissed him back on the mouth. “Now for your reward. What I originally had in mind isn’t going to work because of your ass, so what would you like, baby?”
    “I don’t know,” Adam said, except he did. He just had to work up the courage to ask.
    Denver kissed him again, beaming. “I’m so proud of you, Adam. Do you realize how long you’ve been here? And how hard you let me whip you? You’re so strong, baby. You’re a perfect boyfriend right now, you know that? Not a hair out of place on you, you good boy.”
    That was it, Adam couldn’t stop himself now. “I want you to fuck my mouth again,” he whispered, letting his naked longing show on his face. When Denver’s eyes darkened, Adam let the rest out. “I keep wishing you’d do it again, and you asked what I’d like. I want that. I want to feel like I can’t breathe because your big cock is in my mouth.”
    Denver all but licked his lips. “Oh yeah, you can have that, baby. Good boys like you can get throat-fucked whenever