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sat, looking miserable with his dick red and almost visibly throbbing against his stomach.
    “Be a big boy, or you don’t get to play.” Mitchell lifted the mess of straps up and looped one of the metal rings over a thick hook that hung unobtrusively from the ceiling. “Now, Sean…have you ever been in a swing?”

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    Jason’s mouth went dry at the sight of the swing. He looked at Sean, who looked like he would agree to anything to have an orgasm, and Jason almost laughed. Mitchell had promised that the new tiger would call them within two days, and he’d been right on the money. He’d also apparently been right when he’d said that during those intervening hours, Sean would be consumed with nothing but thoughts of what would happen if they did hook up.
    It had been the same for Jason. Ever since Mitchell had suggested it, and ever since they’d gone to see Sean, Jason had constructed a thousand fantasies about what it would be like if he and his lover fucked the younger tiger. Mitchell had given it thought, too, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone straight to the swing. A cold shiver of anticipation went up Jason’s back at the sight of it, and a twinge of jealousy. Jason loved to be in the swing, totally at Mitchell’s mercy. It would be difficult to watch someone else get all that pleasure instead.
    “How do you want me?” Sean asked, getting to his feet and walking toward Mitchell.
    That was a mistake. Jason had learned long ago that Mitchell took the game seriously, and independent thought didn’t get a person any closer to the sublime headspace of true submission.
    “I didn’t ask you to come over here.” Mitchell nodded toward the basket. “Jason, I think you should discipline him.”
    Though he rarely took a dominant role, the thought of wielding sexual power over Sean, keeping him tense with frustration, denying him release, almost made Jason shoot right then. He went to the basket and pulled out the soft, rubber flogger, with its thin, spaghetti-like tails.
    “Remember your word?” Mitchell asked calmly.
    Jason heard Sean’s laugh. “I’m not going to say it.”
    “Fine, so long as you remember it.”
    Jason took up a position behind Sean. “How many, Mitchell?”
    Mitchell considered. “Five. Not too heavy-handed.”
    Jason tested the flogger out on his own arm first, partially because he liked the feeling of the small tails biting at his skin, partially because he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t over do it and spoil the experience for Sean. And another, darker part of him really liked the way Sean jumped at the sound. The next time he heard that sound, it would be when Jason slapped the tails of the flogger against those taut buttocks, raising angry red welts on that tattooed skin. Mitchell stepped in to remove the restraints and refasten them around Sean’s wrists with his hands in front of his body, so they wouldn’t interfere with the whip.
    “Interesting tattoos,” Jason said aloud, swinging the flogger a little before letting it slap against Sean’s ass with a satisfying snap. “Tell me about them.”
    Sean hissed, the muscles in his ass jumping as he waited for the next blow. “Nothing to tell. They match my stripes when I’m shifted. I like having the reminder.”
    “You don’t think that maybe that’s part of your problem?” Jason whipped him again with the flogger, Sean’s skin turning red even as Jason watched. “Having that constant reminder that you’re…above everyone else?”
    “I’m not above everyone else.” There was a hint of pain his voice, the manifestation of the physical sensation he was experiencing. Jason knew it well. The cold sweat of endurance, trying to climb past the physical pain but craving it, because the moments between blows seemed oddly empty.
    “You’re right, you’re not,” Mitchell said, adjusting the straps of the swing. “How many more, Jason?”
    “Three.” At the sound of Sean’s indrawn