Kink: Flogging, Dom/sub, dirty talk
Ship: Male Reader/Patrick
Top: Patrick
Bottom: Reader
Words: 643

This will be continued. Only 27 Oneshots left :))))

Your hands fumble loosely with the handcuffs, eyes down and legs trembling in anticipation as he watches you like a hawk, flogger in hand and shoes clicking on the hardwood floor.

Your cock is already straining deliciously against the red lace panties white precum peeking out from the top as you wait in anticipation for him to do something.

Everything feels so small to you. You're a mouse. Small and defenseless while Patrick, the man circling you with the flogger and the tall posture, circles above. A hawk hunting and any moment, he could strike.

"How many, Master?" You ask, voice shaking just the slightest.

"How many do you think you can take, Slave?" Patrick asks, trailing the tassels down your back before smacking there sharply. You've taken at least twenty in the past, the flogger really isn't as bad as say a spanking, but there are still limits.

"Thirty, Sir." You reply, "The safeword is oceans."

"Good," Patrick says, "hand behind your back. Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then you better fucking beg for it, Bitch." Patrick growls, coming forward and tugging your hair back before spitting right in your mouth, the taste of mint and sugar joining your own taste of nicotine, "Swallow it."

You quickly comply, your problem becoming impossibly worse at that before Patrick steps back and slaps you with the flogger.

The initial shock is what's the worst, nothing and then bam. The pain itself isn't bad. It's all pretty dull but it's spread out and that makes it a little better.

When the second comes down, Patrick hits it hard, pulling back with one hand on the tassels and the other on the handle before letting the pressure and tension go and flicking his right wrist out so it hits right where he wants it to. It's like a sport, but the reaction is much more pleasures and pained than any normal activity.

"Start begging or I'm not fucking you tonight," Patrick warns, glaring at you before slapping your bare chest with the flogger and circling around to get your shoulder.

"Master, please. I want you to fuck my tight ass with your thick cock." You say, trying your best to come up with the best dirty talk you can.

Seven, eight, nine.

"Sir, I've been so good, I-I just wanna feel good, please, Sir. I want you to fill me up so much that I can't take anymore and I can barely think straight."

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

"Master, please just use me as your whore. I-I need your cock inside me so badly, Sir." You beg, your words becoming more and more desperate and whiny by the moment.

Sixteen, seventeen.

"I need you so fucking bad please. I need to be fucked so hard that I forget everything but your name."

Twenty-one, twenty-two.

"Shut up." Patrick growls, focusing instead on continuing to hit you. Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six.

You yelp out when he bends you over so you're on your hands and knees and begins to flog your ass roughly.

"Sir, oh god, Master." You squeak, back arching as he turns your ass from pale to pink to red, "Master, that feels so good."

"Does it, Slave?" (My little esclavo)

"Oh fuck, yes." Your hands are shaking so hard you don't know if you can hold yourself up much longer.

Thirty.

Patrick stops and drops the flogger, watching you shake on the ground and soon after pressing you even farther by his boot. It digs into the back of your neck but the feeling of complete submission makes up for the pain.

"Take off those panties and get on the bed, Slave."