Their Bounty (Four Mercenaries 1)

His face burned, the weight of Tank’s hand felt like impending doom, yet he deserved this and didn’t have the right to protest. Drake could have died today because of Clover’s petty need for a phone call. All things considered, his keepers were going easy on him.

Resting his cheek on the armrest, Clover shut his eyes when Tank widened his thighs in order to accommodate Clover’s cock and balls. The rough fabric of his jeans teased the sensitive skin, feeling oddly like a caress, even though Clover didn’t expect anything pleasant from what was to come.

This moment was a humiliating punishment by design. The guys didn’t want to hurt him physically, so they targeted his mind, and it was working, because the shame of being exposed like this, in front of four people, for no reasons beyond chastising, had him squirming already.

Tank hummed and rested his other hand between Clover’s shoulder blades before combing its fingers through his hair and uncovering his face for everyone to see.

Drake stood in the shadows, creating physical distance between himself and the decision they’d all come to, but Clover could still sense the heat of his gaze, despite not knowing what it meant.

The shock of the first slap made Clover scream. It was nothing like the playful slaps Tank had administered in bed. These might not cause permanent damage, but still burned as if the palm had spikes, and if that first hit was anything to go by, Clover would be unable to sit down tomorrow.

He briefly saw Drake’s face when the man lit himself a cigarette. He was farther away than the others, but his eyes glistened. He was watching.

Clover’s heart beat like mad when Tank rubbed his palm over the buttocks, as if to tenderize them in preparation for the next slap. “How many?” he choked out. He at least deserved to know that much.

“Twenty,” Tank said and delivered another slap that had Clover squirming and promising himself he would never lie to any of those men again.

Each time Tank’s hand landed on his skin, he continued with the infuriating rubbing, which made the burn even worse. But there was nowhere to run if he wanted a clean slate with his protectors, so Clover clenched his hands on the armrest and breathed in and out.

He should’ve been angry that Tank felt as if he had any right to discipline Clover, but the fact of the matter was that he was in a position of authority, and Clover himself craved to be a good boy for the man who’d shown him so much care.

The spanking took forever, each smack pushing Clover deeper into the abyss, where he desperately tried to grind his teeth and be a good boy. He’d thought they were about to be done when Tank announced he’d only spanked Clover ten times.

Half of the punishment the guys had decided on.

Clover sobbed in helplessness even before the broad palm hit his butt again.

He’d thought he’d been embarrassed before, but it was the tears spilling down his face for everyone to see that made his knees tremble. “It’s too much,” he whimpered, with his toes curled.

“No, it isn’t. You know what would have been too much? You lying dead on the asphalt because of your own stupidity,” Tank said sternly, and made the next smack so harsh Clover cried out again, thrashing in Tank’s lap, already far beyond his control.

His buttocks were on fire, as if Tank’s hand were made of lava, and while spanking didn’t seem like too harsh of a punishment in theory, it hurt like a motherfucker when delivered by such strong hands. So, Clover focused on the fabric rubbing against him and on the soft grunts Tank made each time his palm descended to deliver another blow. With the tears running down Clover’s face and his body out of control, his head became a swollen hot presence that offered no space for thinking or even counting.

When Tank lost his rhythm, Clover was so certain it was over that he looked back, only to see Pyro slam his hand down on his ass so hard Clover tried to pick himself up. But he wouldn’t get to. Both men held him down, and now that Pyro joined in, Clover was missing the steadiness of Tank’s blows.

Pyro’s were an unpredictable assault, yet more shocking when Pyro slipped his fingers between Clover’s buttocks. So far, the pain had numbed Clover to any sexual thoughts, but the moment Pyro touched his pucker, the need for tenderness became so great Clover moaned and turned slightly to curl into Tank. His whole brain throbbed in anticipation of the next slap.

“Stop it,” Boar grunted. “I’ll do the last three, and let’s get this over with.”

“Be my guest,” Tank said with a rumbly laugh.

Clover sniffed and braced himself, but in comparison with Pyro and Tank, the last three slaps were a mercy, and Clover would bet Boar butted in just to spare him.