Chapter 5

Salvatore

Ryan stood before my desk, an attempt at defiance mixed with the weight of resignation in his eyes. I could see the toll this ordeal was taking on him, and I relished in it.

I have wanted this from the start. Talking Ryan into accepting a line of credit from my casino and watching him lose it had been entertaining and, surely, I was in for a thrill to see how far I could push my new toy to submit but discovering his brother…. Well, that had been an unexpected game changer. Not only was he the perfect pawn to keep Ryan in check, but also a much bigger incentive to me than the money.

I hadn't expected, though, this infuriating and thrilling attraction toward Michael…. An unsettling mix of annoyance and excitement that gnawed at my control.

The stakes were higher now, and the game infinitely more interesting.

"Your first task is straightforward," I began, my voice calm and measured. "You will deliver a package to one of my contacts in the industrial district. The contents are none of your concern. Ensure it arrives without any complications. Am I clear?"

Ryan nodded, his face a mask of determination. I could see the fear beneath the surface, the uncertainty. Good. Fear was a powerful motivator.

"I don't speak nods, Ryan. From now on, you are my employee, and you will respond with a ‘Yes, Sir' or a ‘No, Sir', although I highly recommend the first of the two."

"Yes, Sir ." He corrected himself with a subtle sigh.

"You may go now. Carlo will give you all you need on your way out." I dismissed Ryan with a wave, watching him leave with a certain hesitance.

"Sir…." He finally dared ask before he reached the door. "About what you said last night…. The punishment …."

Seeing his struggle, I decided to make it easier for him. "The ten straps to your brother?"

Ryan took a breath, trying to control himself. "Yes. You didn't really mean that…, right?"

Jesus, this was priceless. All those concealed emotions brewing inside the boy's pretty head….

"I always mean every word I say, Ryan." I assured him calmly, watching both rage and fear in his blue eyes.

"If you even touch my brother-"

"Oh, I will touch your brother," I cut him off sharply before I softened my voice. "But not today. Today, I will beat him."

I could almost smell the bile rising in his mouth…. "I recommend you leave now Ryan. We wouldn't want to add another ten to his punishment, now, would we?"

Ryan looked at me as if he could gouge my eyes out, yet he remained motionless. That's it, boy…. Bite your tongue. "Go now."

As he left, holding in his tears of frustration, I leaned back in my chair, a small smile playing at my lips. The first task I had assigned to him was merely a test, a way to measure his capabilities and willingness to follow orders. The real challenges were yet to come.

For Michael, however, the challenge was about to take place.

When I walked into his room, I found him asleep. His breathing was shallow, and his expression was not one of peace. He'd probably been crying.

I looked at his fragile, thin frame curled under the blanket, and instinctively reached my hand out, feeling the burning need to do things to that sweet body. My first impression was that of doing good things to it, but the foreign feeling made me uncomfortable, and I decided a beating would satisfy me just the same.

I unstrapped the leather crop from my belt, feeling at ease once more. Oh, yeah, this is more like it…. My cock agreed with a small twitch.

"Wake up, Michael." I sat on the bed as he flinched, opening his gorgeous blue eyes with that adorable look of sleepy disorientation. The second his brain caught up with his body, he sprang up in fear.

"Relax, Michael. It's just me." I almost laugh at the little comfort my statement might have brought. Just me was probably the last person Michael wanted to see.

I offered him some water. His eyes lit up as he began to down it. "Easy, boy…. I don't want you getting sick."

"Thank you," he breathed with relief, granting me a shy smile. I wished he wouldn't; I could deal with tears, but smiles threw me off. They almost made me feel guilty for what was to come.

"I will get you some breakfast later and something to wear as well but, right now, I'm afraid I need you like this."

"Like this ?" He seemed confused.

"I need you naked so I can whip you and, preferably, on an empty stomach." By the way his eyes widened, and the color drained from his face, I realized I've said that sentence out-loud.

Hmm, I should work a bit on my tact...

"Please, Mr. Salvatore-"

"Vincent." I reminded him.

"I haven't done anything!" He pleaded.

"No, you haven't, but I told your brother I'd punish you for his actions." I got up and helped him do the same. He was so shaky and scared, he barely resisted. "Bend over the bed, Michael."

"Vincent…., please…," he tried persuading me with tears rolling down his pale cheeks. "He won't know."

"But I would and so would you. Now, do as I say before I double your punishment." I tried sounding harsh, as he looked at me, seeming so helpless and lost that my heart shrank in my chest and my dick swelled in my pants. Damn, I'm a sick bastard.

The boy moved slowly, as if he was walking straight to the slaughterhouse, bending over the bed with that sweet ass just begging to be fucked. Get a hold of yourself, Vincent. I rolled up my sleeves, getting a good grip on the crop. Today is business.

"Take a deep breath, Michael, and count the strikes. Can you do that?"

The boy did as told, shaking uncontrollably and closing his eyes in anticipation.

As I landed the first blow, he cried out in pain, panting heavily, more scared than hurt. His soft, delicate skin marked so beautifully I just wanted to get down and kiss it. Instead, I slapped it hard with my hand. Michael jumped, startled. "Did you forget something?"

"One…. I'm sorry." He struggled.

The second blow struck harder, followed by a third and a fourth. "Two…., Three…, Four….!" Michael whimpered, holding on to the covers. Good boy…. You're doing so well….

When I landed the fifth over an already sore area, his skin broke slightly, bringing tears to his eyes. "Five!"

Number six came harder than the one before, and so did the following two strikes.

His reddened bottom took a shade of blue as thick welts spread from his lower back to his thighs. By the ninth blow, Michael was silently crying, and my cock was as swollen as his arse.

"Ten…." he trembled, slipping to the ground.

Dropping the crop, I scooped him up from the floor and onto the bed. I knew he could perfectly do it himself, but I craved touching him, kissing his damped forehead….

I expected him to reject me but, instead, he laid his head on my chest and…., what the fuck? Did he just wrap his arm around me? My boner disappeared instantly and, in its place, I felt the urge to comfort him.