Out of the Dungeon Read Online Free Page A

hits with the
punishment brush would leave him bloody and scarred. Roman wouldn't
do that, would he? No, Dare was sure he wouldn't. So what was the
right answer? What would Jeff say? And as soon as he thought that,
he knew.
    "Whichever pleases you, sir."
    Roman chuckled. "Good answer, my pet. Two
strikes for each day."
    Dare held his breath.
    "Two on each cheek, and you're going to feel
them at least until Tuesday."
    The first blow almost shocked him out of his
skin. The pain was indescribable, and not in a good way like pain
can sometimes be.
    Dare had met the dreaded brush before, but
never when his nerve endings were this raw.
    The second strike made him let out a short
shriek, and he even struggled a little bit, as if he hadn't put
himself into position purely by his own will.
    He was breathing heavy, and the heat from his
buttocks traveled in a wave through his whole body. Sweat ran down
his face and back.
    He took a deep breath and held it, preparing
for the next one.
    "Breathe," Roman said. "You know how to do
this."
    Yes, Dare knew how to do this. Roman had
taught him well.
    He exhaled long and slow, and inhaled deeply.
Exhaled again.
    The slam of the brush came and he cried out,
and Roman's warm hands brushed over the soreness. And then it came
one more time.
    Dare let out little panting sobs, relieved
that the worst was over. He was punished, and he was absolved.
    Roman stroked him gently, then patted the
cool, smooth backside of the brush against Dare's skin. "You do
this well, you know," Roman said. "Almost makes me wonder if you
disobey on purpose, wondering how long it will take me to notice,
and how harsh a punishment I'm willing to give you. But it's never
more than you can handle, is it?"
    "No," Dare said, calm enough to find his
voice. "But that party tonight…" he shuddered. "I hate feeling
silly like that."
    "Our attendance was an obligation. And Jeff
likes the costuming and the games. He is very serious in his role
on a daily basis. It's only fair to give him playtime now and
again. It takes a certain balance to keep everyone happy, and we'll
find it."
    "Will we?"
    "Of course."
    The pats from the back of the brush were
getting firmer as Roman spoke. Dare had a momentary worry that his
skin couldn't take it. But the pulse of his rigid cock reminded him
to stop worrying and trust Roman.
    The sound of Roman's ringing cell phone
snapped Dare out of his reverie. Who would be calling Roman at this
time of the morning?

Chapter 4
     
    R oman's phone rang.
It was early in the day for anyone to be calling about business,
and when he picked it up and looked at the screen he didn't
recognize the number, so he ignored it. Whoever it was could leave
a voicemail.
    Five minutes later Roman heard Dare's phone
in the bedroom ringing. Dare was still in bed. Roman went to the
doorway and watched Dare look at the phone. Then Dare looked at
Roman, shrugged, and answered.
    "Hello? What? Yeah, I know him. Yeah. What?
Fuck." Roman watched all the color drain out of Dare's face. "Let
me give you to Roman," Dare said. To Roman, he said, "It's St.
Anne's Medical Center. Jeff's been in an accident," and passed the
phone over.
    Roman's brain went on freeze. He took the
phone from Dare. "This is Roman," he said, and then he listened,
hardly able to believe what he was hearing. The voice was talking,
verifying that Roman was Jeff's emergency contact, and Roman
realized that he was nodding, but not speaking.
    He cleared his throat. "Yes, yes. I'm his
partner."
    He listened more. Jeff was in critical
condition in the ICU. Roman heard 'broken neck,' and then nothing
else as he tried to absorb the implications. It felt surreal. This
couldn't be happening. Not to Jeff, who ran their lives with such
careful attention to every detail.
    Roman agreed to come to the hospital as soon
as he could get there. Handed the phone to Dare, and, unimaginably,
felt his eyes water. "We have to go," he managed to say.
    Dare asked, "What is it? What's wrong