The Shepherd (The Game 6)

Over and over, I struck his back before I moved south to the fleshy parts of his thighs. And he screamed and sobbed and thrashed in my buddy’s hold.

Surrender, little one.

“Please!” He wailed and let out the most heart-wrenching cry. “Hurts—it hurts so much, Sir! Please!”

“You know what to say, Corey. Or you can safewo—”

“Sadists always know best!” he screamed. Poor thing couldn’t stand still. Last time I saw someone move like that, it was Jamie doing the pee-pee dance.

I blew out a breath of relief and withdrew the whip, circling the leather around my arm. “I’mma need more than that, boy.” Come on, you can do it. I tossed the whip into one of the toy bags strewn about and approached him slowly.

He hiccupped around a sob. “Sadists are the best in the w-world. They make me cry when I can’t cry on my own.”

Fuck. Those words went straight to my ticker, along with a kick in the head. Exchanging a quick glance with the spotter, I stole Corey from him and picked him up in my arms. His legs went around my hips, and then I had him crying in my ear as I headed toward the water’s edge.

On the way, I snatched up an aftercare kit, a towelette, and a bottle of water.

“That’s a good boy.” I kissed the side of his head. “You did fuckin’ amazin’ today, you know that? Just let it all out, sweetheart.”

I found a wide rock and sat down on it, glad to be at least thirty or so feet away from the other Sadists and screaming brats. It was darker here too, offering a sliver of privacy. Hopefully, Marcus couldn’t even see us.

“Do you need more pain, Corey?” I murmured.

“I—not more, just…” He whimpered and wiped fruitlessly at his cheeks. “I don’t want it to be over yet, Sir.”

I understood him. Gathering him closer to me, I told him to rest his face on my shoulder while I cleaned his back. It would definitely prolong his suffering.

After soaking the little towel in water, I gently dabbed it along his spine, and I knew that was enough to cause the pain to flare up all over again.

“I wanna call you D-Dominus, please, Sir,” he sobbed.

I smiled and winced in sympathy—despite that the last thing he needed was sympathy. This was the emotional release he craved. Still. The uncontrollable crying got to me. I couldn’t help it.

“Of course you can call me that.” I pressed a kiss to his hair and rubbed the towel over his shoulders. “Did you have fun tonight?”

He sniffled and nodded. “So much. Daddy told me to go nuts.” He giggled through a fresh round of tears.

“Oh yeah?”

That didn’t sound like the Marcus I’d observed.

“Yeah,” he croaked, “since we’re leaving tomorrow for our vacation.”

Their what?

“You’re going away?” I glanced toward the others, or past them, up the beach, to where our audience was gathered.

“Yes, cuz Daddy’s got a job interview in Denver.”

Fuck. I didn’t know what bothered me more, that Marcus might flee the scene and take Corey with him, or that Corey was regressing in my arms right this moment. I felt him shift on my lap, getting more cuddly, and I heard it in his speech.

“We’re gonna spend two whole weeks there,” he announced.

I cleared my throat and opened the toiletry bag that held the aftercare items. “Would, uh…would you move with him if he got the job?” I grabbed the small bottle of aloe so I could apply it to his back.

“I think so. I mean, yeah. Daddy’s got to have me with him. He needs me.”

Motherfucker. How the hell could we get Corey away from Marcus if they moved halfway across the country?

I had to talk to River and Reese before they left tomorrow.

“I’m sleepy, Dominus.” Corey’s words came out sweet, drowsy, and thick with emotion. It was a wonder he wasn’t shivering from the cold. Then again, adrenaline, excitement, an evening of pushing limits and roughhousing, and now getting the release he’d needed… His mind had to be thoroughly fucked.

“Close your eyes and rest for a moment.” I pressed a kiss to his damp hair. “I’m just gonna put some lotion on your back and thighs, and then we need to get you warm.”

“I feel warm,” he whispered. Yet, his nose was cold when it touched my neck. “I like the way you do aftercare.”

That brought me comfort. But anger too. What kind of aftercare was he used to? Christ. I didn’t like this at all. Even less when I knew our time was running out. I estimated we had another twenty minutes, maybe, and then Marcus would take over.

I sighed and refocused. “I hope you don’t leave, little one,” I murmured.

“Mmm…” He shivered, half asleep. “Ouch,” he whimpered softly. “When are my tears gonna stop?”