Free Angel and the Assassin by Fyn Alexander

always listen to a safe word. But use it very sparingly or I lose patience. Don‟t play games with me.”
    “Yes, Sir.” Angel couldn‟t think of one reason why he would want a safe word.
    He was so desperate for experience and to show Sir his worth.
    “Red means stop.” Sir looked into his eyes. “Yellow means slow down. Green means you are happy and to keep putting on the pressure. Understood?”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    Sir quickly walked around the frame, lifting Angel‟s feet up into the loops and securing them with buckled straps. He did the same with his hands until Angel lay spread-eagled, his cock standing at attention. He allowed the sling and the loops to support him completely, letting all the tension dissolve from his body into the leather. He lay bound and vulnerable.
    “Close your eyes and take long, slow breaths, boy.”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    Angel closed his eyes, completely content, utterly trusting. When he sensed Sir standing at his head, he opened his eyes to look up and saw a leather hood in Sir‟s hands. Panic and fear ripped through his body. He had seen hooded slaves in the magazines he had read and on the Net, but had always thought hoods looked claustrophobic and scary.
    His eyes widened in horror. “Sir, no!”
    “Calm down,” Sir ordered. “Don‟t you trust me?”
    “Yes, Sir, but I don‟t want a hood.”
    “I am in charge, not you, boy. You‟re going to wear a hood.”
    4“No, no, really, please. I can‟t. Red!” His words came out as a high-pitched keening. Frantically, Angel began to pull at the restraints holding his wrists and ankles, trying vainly to free himself, but the more he pulled, the tighter the restraints drew.
    “Stop it!” Sir said firmly but calmly. “You‟re going to hurt yourself.”
    Overtaken with fear and unable to focus on the words, Angel continued to drag at the restraints, wide-eyed, his heart thudding against his ribs. But there was no escape. Sir walked around the frame and stood beside him, watching him. Angel began to scream unrestrainedly until his face was scarlet. When he calmed down long enough to focus, he saw Sir kneeling beside him, one hand on his head, the other rubbing his belly soothingly. Slowly his panic subsided. He felt cradled in Sir‟s hands just as if Sir, and not the sling, held him.
    “Look at me, Angel.” His voice was so calm, Angel floated on a gentle wave of sound. He looked into the beautiful blue eyes and felt drawn into his soul.
    “Listen carefully. I want you to wear a hood, but it doesn‟t have to be this one.
    I‟ve got another one that won‟t cover your mouth and nose. Stay very still, and I‟ll get it.”
    A shuddering sob shook Angel‟s body, but he was considerably calmer. His erection had softened in his panic, and he was no longer aroused but merely thoroughly ashamed to have disappointed Sir.
    Sir returned, holding up a hood. “Look at this. Nice soft leather.” He rubbed it against Angel‟s cheeks. It felt like butter. “Smell it.” The scent alone was very arousing. “It pulls over the head and covers the eyes and ears, but has an opening for your mouth and nose. It‟s really more of a blindfold than a hood. It doesn‟t fasten at the neck like most hoods. It‟s easy to pull on and off.”
    Angel sniffed at the leather. “Yes, I see that, Sir.” It was much less frightening than the first hood. Sir held it up on his fist to demonstrate. Angel looked at it, his throat tight and sore.
    “While we are in my dungeon, you can call me Daddy,” Sir said softly.
    “Thank you, Daddy.” He felt instantly better and very grateful. Sir was formal, Master was scary, but Daddy? Daddy was strong and kind and protective.
    “Listen and I‟ll tell you why Daddy wants you to wear this.”
    “Yes, Daddy,” Angel said quietly.
    Angel looked up and saw nothing but kindness and gentleness in the handsome face. “This is all new to you.”
    “Yes, Daddy.”
    “So you‟re anxious and distracted. You‟re