Hello, my lovelies. Here is an Ed & Marchant free read as one of my Advent treats.
Ed never thought he'd end his year being flogged by the light of twinkling dicks.
Ed never thought he'd end his year being flogged by the light of twinkling dicks.
What is your favourite Christmas decoration?
Leave the answer below to enter the giveaway for prize of Frankie & Al and Ed & Marchant.
Ed Winters despises his job and hates everyone he works with—especially out and proud, happily in love Frankie Mason. He spends his days wishing he could dance, rather than work.
Late to go shopping one day, Ed ends up soaked in Marchant Belarus’s spilled Coke. Ed’s humiliation increases when Marchant, the owner of a BDSM club, realizes Ed is a sub, albeit a very closeted one. Marchant’s attempts to draw Ed out of his shell release years of pent-up anger and hurt over the abuse Ed’s mother and grandmother heaped on him.
Marchant is patient, but nothing he does seems to help until he discovers Ed’s secret love of dancing—a forbidden passion that might be the key to unlocking the confident, secure man Ed could be.
Multi-coloured lights sparkled around the door of Marchant’s club. They looked quite normal to the innocent eye but as the person who strung them over the porch, Ed knew they were anything but. Each dick and balls twinkled brightly as Ed approached the door. He was taking his courage – and his own balls – in both hands, to visit the club while Marchant was working. He’d been there rarely during club hours, still finding the intense atmosphere more than he could handle. Ed’s progression into BDSM had been glacial slow even if Ed felt his whole world was like an out-of-control rollercoaster and the only stable thing was Marchant. Which didn’t make sense, if Ed thought about it logically, because Marchant was the one who’d sent it out of control. Ed really needed to stop thinking.
Two men stood by the door, both of them staring at him as if he’d suddenly grown antlers. Ed resisted the urge to check his head just to make sure.
Marchant’s assistant manager Tony grinned at him as Ed approached them. “The boss didn’t tell us you were coming.”
“He doesn’t know,” Ed said. “I wanted to surprise him.” Both men were at least eight inches taller than him. Ed must have been off dancing the paso doble when God had given out the height gene. He frowned at Tony. “What are you doing out here? Don’t tell me he’s making you work the bar and the door.”
“He’s supposed to be going home but he’s hanging around annoying me because he hopes a certain trainee Dom will make an appearance.” The doorman shot Tony a knowing look before he smiled at Ed. “It’s a quiet night. The boss’ll be pleased to see you.”
“I hope so,” Ed muttered and stepped through the door. The club looked like a glittering explosion in a kink factory and the bar was no exception, although maybe a lot more tinsel and a little less kink.
Tony followed him in. “Do you want a drink? We stocked up on your favourite.” Marchant had made it very clear that Ed’s preferred brand of sparkling water was always to be available in case Ed made an appearance.
Ed shook his head. “I’ll go and find Marchant before I lose my nerve.”
“The crowd is light. He’ll be in the office at this time of night.” Tony looked over Ed’s shoulder. “Correction. He’s standing behind you.”
“Ed?” Marchant looked stunned.
“Hi,” Ed said, smiling as confidently as he could.
“Joseph told me you were here. I thought he was joking.”
Ed should have known the doorman would snitch on him. “Do you mind?”
“Mind? God no, I don’t mind, but why didn’t you tell me?” Marchant held out his hand and Ed let himself be tugged into the one place that felt like home, Marchant’s arms.
“This was something I needed to do by myself,” Ed admitted. “I wasn’t even sure before a few minutes ago.”
“How long did you sit outside?”
“Over an hour.” Ed knew Marchant was teasing him but he still flushed.
Marchant kissed him tenderly. “I’m proud of you,” he said softly and suddenly he was worth the embarrassment.
“Who are you hiding from us, Marchant?”
Ed turned to see a tall, thin man, a Dom from his manner, staring at Ed like he was a succulent piece of rump steak. He thought he’d met most of the Doms by now, but this one was new to him.
Marchant drew Ed close to him. “He’s mine.” The hands off was clear in his tone.
The Dom grinned. “Understood. Pleased to meet the man who’s landed Marchant. It’s been too long since he’s had a play partner.”
“Ed is more than a play partner,” Marchant said and the possessive growl made Ed tingle from head to toe.
The Dom seemed surprised but the smile he gave Ed was genuine. “Really pleased to meet you, Ed.”
Ed relaxed enough to give him a tentative smile but when he opened his mouth to respond but Marchant interrupted. “I’m going to use one of the back rooms. Follow me, Ed.”
He looked at Ed expectantly, and Ed stared at him unsure how to respond, but he murmured, “Yes, sir,” and Marchant nodded, his intense eyes on him.
Marchant led Ed through a large room where several scenes were in play. Ed was relieved to see he wasn’t the oldest man in the room. He tried not to watch a flogging that made Ed’s stomach churn. Marchant had been careful to keep all whipping implements off the table so far.
He was aware of people staring at him as he followed Marchant but he kept his eyes lowered, focusing his attention on Marchant’s leather-clad arse.
Marchant paused at a door. “I want to do a scene.”
Ed had expected it but the tone in Marchant’s voice made him take note. “What kind of scene?”
“We’ll negotiate it before we start. I’m not going to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable this time.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Ed asked drily as they went into the room. It would have been plainly decorated, almost boring, if it hadn’t been for the red and black Christmas tree in the corner decorated with mini-floggers and bottles of lube. Marchant had insisted on practical as well as decorative.
Marchant didn’t laugh as he’d expected. “I know how hard it was for you to walk through the room. You saw things you didn’t like.”
“Yes. You know it’s not the same, don’t you?”
Ed clenched his fists and relaxed them, trying to breathe normally. “You keep telling me that but it’s hard for me to process, you know?” He still wore the marks from years of abuse by his mother and grandmother. He slammed shut the words in his head that always followed when he thought of his childhood. They had no place here, not with his Dom.
Marchant cupped Ed’s jaw with his large hands and looked into his eyes, sympathy and love in his expression. “Let me show you.”
Ed swallowed nervously. “What if I fail, sir?”
“I will never let you fail.”
Marchant had promised that from the beginning. He would never let Ed fail as he had done all his life. He was there to support Ed, to help him succeed and Ed believed him.
“What do you want me to do, sir?”
“My boy.” Never good boy. Just his. “What are your safe words?”
“Red and yellow.”
“And you will use them?”
Ed nodded. He had in the past and Marchant had stopped the scene. “When I need to.”
“Strip off and kneel.”
Ed knelt at Marchant’s feet, his wrists crossed behind his back. He was naked, and very conscious of the fact as Marchant was still fully clothed, down to his highly polished black boots. Ed stared at the boots, hoping he wasn’t going to be the one to maintain their high sheen.
“Thank you, Ed.” Marchant touched the top of his head. He thanked Ed every time. Not for submitting, but for trusting Marchant with his gift of submission.
Marchant took his time, leading Ed through his positions, the routine calming Ed until he was just listening to the sound of Marchant’s voice. Marchant praised him constantly, his hands on Ed, never a moment when Ed wasn’t aware of him.
Eventually Marchant said, “I’m going to use a flogger on you now, my boy. You can use your safewords at any time.”
Tension flooded Ed’s muscles but he let Marchant lead him to something that looked like the horse they’d vaulted over at school. Marchant encouraged him to lean over and hold onto the rings.
“I’m not going to restrain you in anyway. I know you can stay where you are.”
Marchant had spent many hours teaching him to stay still while he teased him to climax stroking ice cubes over his body. Ice cubes had a special significance in their relationship as they had met when Marchant had tripped and thrown ice cubes and Coke over Ed. He still remembered the feel of the ice slipping over his chest and the look of recognition on Marchant’s face as he saw Ed for what he really was. The first person Ed had been unable to hide from.
“Yes, sir.” Ed settled himself, trying to relax.
Marchant stroked down Ed’s back, calming strokes as if he was a flighty horse. The analogy wasn’t far wrong.
“I’m going to use a multi tailed flogger on you. This isn’t like being beaten with the belt or stick. This isn’t about pain, Ed, it’s about sensation.”
Ed closed his eyes to quell the panic rising and focused on Marchant’s voice and Marchant’s hands as if they were separate entities. He jumped as he felt the tails of the flogger caressing his shoulders, traveling down his back in sweeping figures of eight, to whisper against the sensitive skin of his balls.
“Feel the leather loving you, Ed.” Marchant’s voice had the same hypnotic quality as the caress of the flogger.
Almost against his will, Ed found himself getting aroused, his cock filling as the leather strands made love to him.
“You look so beautiful,” Marchant said. “I’m going to flog you now.”
The first hit across his shoulders came before Ed processed Marchant’s statement. There was no pain, just sensation where every strand landed. Ed focused on each lash. Marchant didn’t give him a chance to think too much before the next.
Ed tried to keep quiet as the leather thudded into him, remembering how his mother had hit him harder when he made a sound.
The leather stroked him again and Ed groaned, unable to keep to hold back the sound.
“Talk to me, Ed,” Marchant said encouragingly. “Let me hear what your noises.”
“Must keep quiet.” He gasped as Marchant hit him and groaned with the failure.
“No. I want to hear you, Ed.”
“You’ll hit me harder.” Noise equalled failure. Failure equalled pain.
Marchant cupped Ed’s hip with his large warm hand. “I’m not them. Never them. Shout, moan, cry. I want to hear it.”
Ed opened his eyes and looked at the Christmas tree, seeing his reflection in a silver ball, watching the lash just before it sent sensation to all corners of his body. He could make noises because Marchant permitted it. He yelled out as Marchant flogged him again.
“That’s it. You can do this. My boy. Mine.”
“Always yours.” Ed shouted again, then he shook, shocked by an orgasm he hadn’t been focused on. He slumped over the vault, incapable of doing anything except the tears rolling down his face.
Then there was sudden silence in the room. No more whoosh of the flogger or Marchant’s grunts. Marchant helped Ed to stand and held him in his arms, not bothered by Ed’s raggedy sobs and the tears soaking in Marchant’s shirt.
In the room now only lit by the red sparkling lights of the tree, Ed leaned on Marchant’s shoulder, closed his eyes and let Marchant put another piece of him together.
Dumped by his boyfriend, Frankie Mason goes out with the girls, gets totally trashed, and ends his night by falling in front of a taxi. He’s rescued by a man with beautiful green eyes who takes care of him until he’s put into an ambulance. Frankie curses himself as he realizes he doesn’t have the man’s phone number. Still in pain a few days later, he is dragged out to a club only to be saved by Green Eyes once more. This time, he isn’t letting the man go.
Unfortunately Frankie has to attend a team-building exercise, nicknamed Womb Weekend, organized by his company. Al is working so he doesn't mind, until he discovers who the team leader is. Al has a lot of explaining to do!
Make sure you read the other stories on the Christmas Tour.