About SWAK: Flogging
Author: Sean Michael
Word Count: 14500
Page Count (pdf): 66
Series: Sealed With a Kink
Genre: Contemporary BDSM
Date Published: July 28, 2020
Heat Rating: 4
File Types available: epub mobi pdf
this title has been moved to Kindle Unlimited
Can a good flogging from the right man help a driven artist exorcise his demons?
Damien is a painter with demons. He spends most of his life working those demons out on his canvases, only leaving his studio when one friend or another shows up to drag him out for an hour or two. He’s tried everything to help him sleep through the night, and find some peace, but he knows he’s more than a little crazy and nothing has ever worked.
Trace has been dropping hints to Damien for a while that he’d like to be more than just friends, but Damien doesn’t ever seem to pick up on them. Believing he can give this beautiful man exactly what he needs, Trace takes the bull by the horns one evening when they’re both at the same bar and directly asks Damien to come home with him.
Is Trace right? Does he know exactly what Damien needs to give him some peace, and will Damien trust him enough to try, or is Damien doomed to be forever chased by them? Find out in this latest Sealed With a Kink book.
Jesus, I’m bored.
I’ve been in the house for months, working, creating, and if Nels hadn’t thrown a temper tantrum and dragged me out to the bar, I’d still be doing it—throwing paint on the canvas and working out my demons.
But I’m here. I’m here with my beer, watching Nels dance with some little twink, and I’m waiting for it to turn nine o’clock so I can grab a car home.
I agreed to an hour. Nine makes an hour.
Someone sits next to me. I can feel that he’s a big guy even without looking. He feels solid, like suddenly there’s a brick wall right there.
I’m not looking. I’m not interested. I’m just waiting for nine.
The bartender comes over. “What’ll it be?”
“Coke, lots of ice, please.” His voice is like velvet dragging over gravel and it hits me in my balls.
Oh, damn. I need to pay my tab and go. Instead, I grin up at him. “Lots of ice?” My eyes go wide. “Trace? Hey.”
I’d forgotten just how sexy his voice is, how warm his smile.
“I haven’t seen you in a while.” I haven’t seen anyone in a while. I’ve been hiding.
“No, you haven’t been around. I was pleased when I walked in and saw you sitting here. Knew I had to come say hello.”
He’s making me hard just by talking.
Obviously I’ve been alone a while. I’ve known Trace forever. There’s never been a spark. “I’ve been working hard.”
“Too hard. You’ve got dark bags under your eyes.” He reaches out and gently touches me, right under my eyes, and it’s like he’s touching an electric wire to me.
“She’s a demanding mistress.” I am not gasping. I’m not. Nope.
“I know a thing or two about being demanding,” Trace notes. Have his eyes always been so very green? And intensely hot. That has to be new, right?
“Do you?” I take another swig of beer, trying to cool down.
“Yeah, I do. And I think you know exactly what I mean.” That timbre in his voice, that’s new too. So is the way he licks the moisture from his upper lip, tongue sliding slowly.
“H-how’s your Coke?” Stop it. You are not a virgin.
“Nice and cold. Exactly how I like it. How’s your beer?”
“Piss warm and nasty,” I admit. “I’ve been nursing it.”
“If you didn’t want it, why not order something else? A glass of water with ice would take a lot longer to get warm.”
“I was going to leave at nine.” A glass of iced water sounds amazing, though.
Trace nods at the barback, who comes right over. “Ice water, please.” Then he turns back to me, and I feel really seen. “You shouldn’t have to sip at warm beer for another ten minutes.”
“Thank you.” That’s—that’s kind. It feels like a balm, a little. Or maybe a lot.
“It’s the painting, right? Have you got something in particular riding your ass so hard?” The words conjure up a naughty image involving Trace and my ass.
“It is. I got demons, nothing big.” Just…being a worthless shit.
He touches my arm, and that zap from earlier is back like whoa. “Are you okay, Damien? I mean really.”
I go for casual and blithe, because no, no I’m not. I’m lonely, and I’m worn, and I’m more than a little broken.
He’s still staring at me, touching me, and I realize I haven’t actually said anything yet.
My cheeks heat, and I hide my face in the water. “I’ll be fine, honey. Thanks for asking.”
“I don’t think you are. And I want to help.” His tone is gentle, but there’s also a strength there.
“What? Why?” Why on earth would Trace care?
A wry smile quirks up one side of Trace’s mouth. “Because I’ve been interested in you since I first saw you and you’re getting deeper and deeper into your demons.”
“Oh, honey. I—I’m bad news. You have to know that, right?” I reach out and put my hand on his arm, and he’s so warm.
“You’re just… driven and probably a lot lost in what you call your demons. You need a master to take care of you. To help you… focus.”
“I wish.” But I’ve tried that. I’ve tried sex. I’ve tried pain. I’ve tried drugs. The only thing that works is, well, work.
“You could always think of me as your genie—granting you that wish,” Trace suggests.
He has no idea how tempting that is.
“I actually like you. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Damien, do you really have so low an opinion of yourself?” He touches my arm again, and it lights me up, warms me to the bone.
“I just know me. I’m a train wreck.” Sad but true.
“Like I said, you need a master.” He’s still touching me, fingers stroking my arm now, leaving tingles behind.
“I tried the lifestyle. I wasn’t good at it. Ask Carlson.” Oh. Probably Trace had. Carlson and I never even fucked—I let him tie me up, spank me. All I could do was wait for it to be over.
“Okay, let me rephrase. You need the right master.” Trace smiled. “I can even refine that. You need me.”