Read Scorched Edges for Free Online Page B

professional wrestler. His bald head gleamed almost as brightly as the gold rings in his nipples. Bare-chested, he wore black leather trousers with a red stripe down the outside seams. They were tucked into highly polished combat boots. In one hand he held a coiled whip, in the other he gripped the wrist of his tiny, Japanese sub.
    “Oh my God, he’s huge!” Marty said to no one in particular.
    The group around the table all laughed. Marty twisted around and stared at Beau. “Are you sure this is safe? The little guy…he’s so…well, little!”
    “Kato is an experienced sub, Marty. He’s been with Lash for years and they do these demonstrations regularly. Lash is the best I’ve ever seen with a whip.”
    “Appropriate name.” Marty paid attention to the stage, where Lash was positioning Kato against the cross. He bound Kato’s wrists and ankles in place, whispering to him constantly. Other than a tiny yellow thong, Kato was completely bare. His slight body was lightly muscled and firm.
    “I can’t see any scars,” Marty whispered.
    “Of course not. I told you, Lash is an expert,” Beau replied.
    Lash faced the audience. “It’s not the toys that are dangerous, it’s the men that wield them.” He uncoiled the whip and let it trail across the stage. “Lesson one—clearance. Use a four-foot whip and you need a minimum eight feet of clearance.” He flicked his wrist and the whip rippled. “I’ve been throwing single tails for more than ten years. I still practice about four times a week.” He glared sternly around the room. “Lesson two—if you intend to start using a single tail, buy a quality whip, even at first. The better whips are accurate and can last a lifetime. If anyone’s interested, come and examine mine after the demo.” He walked over to the cross and stroked Kato’s back. “Safe, sane and consensual applies to all whip play. I would never recommend trying this without expert guidance and a hell of a lot of practice on items that don’t bleed. Soft toys make great target practice. Lesson three—never ever crack a whip toward anyone’s face.” Lash stroked Kato’s hair. “And finally, there’s no place for ego when you have a whip in your hand. Your actions should only be directed by this head”—he tapped his skull—“not this one.” He grabbed his crotch. “Use your brain, fully engaged and under the influence of nothing but common sense.”
    Lash stroked the firm curve of his sub’s ass. Marty fidgeted in Beau’s lap.
    “Anticipation is the best part of BDSM play. I’d bet you a week’s salary that Kato’s hard as a rock by now,” Beau said quietly.
    “Did you know that the crack of a whip is a miniature sonic boom?” Marty said. “The cracker at the end of the lash breaks the sound barrier. The whip acts like a magnifying glass, taking the motion, momentum and energy you place into the whip’s handle and focusing that energy into the whip’s tip.”
    Beau grinned then planted a soft kiss on Marty’s neck. “I’ll bear that in mind when he starts to make some noise with it.”
    Marty fidgeted. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I see science and maths in everything and it just kind of spills out.”
    Beau hugged him close and took a calculated gamble. “I have a few, very effective, gags to use on you when I want you quiet, don’t worry.”
    Marty’s little gasp was followed by a low, sexy moan. He turned his head away, and Beau guessed that Marty was blushing to the roots of his hair. The fact that he didn’t leap from Beau’s lap and make a run for the exit was very promising.
    Still with his hand palming Kato’s ass cheek, Lash addressed them again.
    “One interesting thing about the bullwhip is that the wielder does not need to be a big guy like me. Some of the best whip crackers I’ve seen have been small women. A gentle stroke made with grace carries more power than an uncontrolled, strong swing.” Lash held his whip for them all to see, and Marty