NOVEL NEXT C7 - S, M
“Hmm.”
“It’s something I’d never normally say.”
“Alright. Let’s go with that.”
Yan thought it might be considered childish, but Procion nodded readily. He then took the contract from Yan and wrote down everything they had just discussed.
“There, I’ve signed it. Now it’s your turn.”
“Okay.”
When Procion held out the pen, Yan reached out his hand without thinking. But the moment Yan tried to grasp the pen, Procion pulled his hand back.
“…?”
“Yan, does a slave use his hands without the master’s permission?”
“…Oh.”
Is this starting now? So this is how the play begins. Yan hesitated with these thoughts. He understood he shouldn’t use his hands, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to sign.
“Let’s start by learning the proper posture. Yan, kneel.”
The bright blue eyes looking up at him were shining. Despite Procion being at a lower eye level, Yan felt an inexplicable sense of pressure. After hesitating, he knelt down.
“Don’t dawdle.”
“Y-yeah.”
Slap.
His response was met with a light slap. It didn’t hurt, but the humiliation of being slapped in the face sparked feelings of rebellion. However, Yan couldn’t show weakness so soon, so he deliberately calmed his defiant feelings.
“When I tell you not to dawdle, how should you respond?”
“…I should say ‘Yes.'”
“Don’t mumble. Again.”
“I should say ‘Yes.'”
Procion frowned as if still displeased with Yan’s answer. However, this time he didn’t say anything more and simply tossed the contract.
Yan expected the light paper to fly anywhere, but whether by chance or not, it landed precisely in front of him. The word ‘Contract,’ which he had read without much thought earlier, now seemed frighteningly prominent.
“Sign it.”
“…”
“I’ll allow you to use your mouth.”
Procion kindly lifted Yan’s chin himself and placed the pen in his mouth. Yan wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for this kindness or not. Thinking he should be grateful since he was now a slave, he mumbled, “Thank you.” Procion patted Yan’s cheek approvingly.
“…Ugh.”
Trying to sign with this unfamiliar method, the letters came out hopelessly crooked. Saliva running down the pen shaft was humiliating. After somehow managing to complete the signature, the thought suddenly occurred to him: ‘Weren’t you not supposed to sign contracts so easily?’ Of course, it was already too late.
“Good. Push that over here.”
“Yes.”
Yan pushed the contract over as Procion instructed. The sentence “Yan Circuits becomes Procion’s faithful slave during play” caught his eye again.
What would happen next? Both frightened and curious, Yan slightly raised his head.
He heard rattling sounds, as if Procion was doing something on the table. What was on the table? Yan tried to recall. A half-eaten dinner, a wine bottle, glasses, and a flower vase. None seemed particularly relevant to the current situation.
“You’re fortunate, Yan.”
“…?”
“Your master has personally prepared flowers for you.”
Saying this, Procion lowered his hand. In his hand was a rose.
But not just any rose—a rose with its thorns removed. The stem was so smoothly groomed that it almost looked like a straw.
“Open your mouth.”
When Yan obediently opened his mouth, Procion placed the rose stem between his lips. Yan felt like he was wearing a bit, like a horse.
“From now on, for each petal that falls, I’ll add one more stroke. Whether you struggle or scream, I don’t care, but if all the petals fall, you’ll be in trouble, Yan.”
In reality, the rose’s function seemed no different from a gag. Yan nodded slightly to indicate he understood.
“Stand up and grab the bed sheet.”
Having been warned earlier, Yan moved quickly this time. He jumped up and gripped the edge of the bed. This naturally placed him in a position with his waist bent and his buttocks pushed back.
Procion seemed to be looking for something behind Yan. Not being able to see what was happening made him unnecessarily anxious. Yan flinched nervously.
Whoosh!
That’s when he heard something like the sound of wind. Whoosh, whoosh—threatening sounds rang out one after another. Though he didn’t know what it was, he knew it wasn’t good for him. Yan tensed up even more.
“Let’s just take thirty strokes.”
“…!”
Even ten strokes had been painful last time, so thirty sounded daunting. Of course, Procion didn’t care about Yan’s concerns.
He ran his fingertips along a long, flexible cane. Satisfied with the cool sensation in his hand, Procion smiled. Above all, what satisfied him was the young man before him. Though his buttocks were hidden under jeans, the firmly raised curves were clearly visible.
Thwack!
“…Huh!”
Procion brought the cane down on those buttocks without warning. Yan inhaled sharply. As the second and third strokes fell on his buttocks, he felt like he might scream. However, the rose prevented that from happening easily.
“Hoo, hah! Hmph.”
All Yan could do was exhale forceful breaths. Each spot where the cane fell stung. Just as the pain would start to fade, the next stroke would fall, turning the stinging into a burning sensation.
“Gasp!”
When a particularly painful stroke fell, Yan reflexively arched his back. The moment his posture broke, a rose petal fluttered down.
This was bad. Yan froze in that position, turning pale.
“Maintaining the correct posture is important. If you get hit in the wrong place, you’re likely to get hurt.”
Procion said this while rubbing Yan’s buttocks. His grip was so strong that the pain seemed to fade each time he squeezed the flesh. Yan returned to his original posture.
“It would be better if you stick your butt out properly. If you get hit on the waist, it will hurt even more.”
That may be true, but having his buttocks poked with the tip of the cane was extremely humiliating. Yan tightened his grip on the sheet. Nevertheless, he had no choice but to stick his buttocks out properly. As Procion said, getting hit on the waist would be worse.
“Hic…!”
As soon as he confirmed that Yan had corrected his posture, Procion swung the cane. Whoosh—pain accompanied the threatening sound. Despite his earlier resolution to maintain proper posture, Yan twisted his shoulders.
Flutter—the rose petals fell cruelly. This time, it was even two petals.
“You need to learn how to maintain proper posture first. Lower. Your. Waist.”
Procion pressed down on Yan’s curved back with the cane. Yan lowered his waist as commanded. Thwack—the cane fell again and his buttocks burned again, but Yan couldn’t move his body freely. The veins on the back of Yan’s hand, which was gripping the sheet, became increasingly prominent.
“Hngh!”
“That’s the sixth petal already.”
Procion said teasingly. Yan glared at the red petals scattered on the sheet. Despite his desperate efforts not to break posture, he resented how the petals fell honestly with each flinch.
“The last five strokes, let’s see if you can endure them.”
“Gasp!”
Yan immediately understood why Procion said that. The strokes fell with an intensity incomparable to before. And they came in succession. Each time the thud, thud sound was heard, his buttocks throbbed crazily.
“Hng, hic, ugh.”
After the final stroke, having taken thirty in total, Yan collapsed onto the sheet. No matter how hard he tried, could he ever transform this into pleasure? For the first time, Yan had doubts about becoming a masochist.
“If you collapse like this as soon as we finish next time too, it won’t be fun.”
Procion grabbed Yan’s hair and lifted his head. Struggling to put strength into his trembling arms, Yan mumbled, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”
“That’s six strokes in total.”
“…”
“Answer me.”
“Yes…”
“Take off your pants.”
The voice, tinged with amusement, commanded. Though it sounded playful, it was an order that couldn’t be ignored. Yan removed his pants with slow movements.
“Take off everything you’re wearing below the waist.”
“…Yes.”
Would he have to take the remaining six strokes on bare skin? Yan was more afraid of being hit than having to expose his lower body in front of Procion.
Procion looked at Yan’s buttocks. He felt quite pleased. There were red horizontal lines on the white buttocks. The reddened buttocks bearing the marks of punishment excited Procion.