Free A Russian Bear by CB Conwy

before I started to count down last time?” Mischa knew it didn’t; the Dom just wanted to see how far Tom was prepared to go to preserve his honesty.
    A long way, it seemed. “No, sir, not as much. Please, give me more.” Mischa did, and Tom screamed, his hands flailing to find a grip on the sheets, his pillow, anything. Mischa kept pressing hard, knowing how much this hurt. He was willing to start counting now if the boy told him to.
    “Are you there yet?” Tom sobbed, whimpering. Then he shook his head. “Not... not yet, sir. A little...Ah! A little bit more.” Mischa couldn’t help feeling admiration for that level of honesty. Of course, it was going to make his boy scream. He tightened his hands until they were as tight as last time.
    Tom screamed and screamed, his shoulders leaving the bed and his hands scrambling, briefly closing around Mischa’s wrists and then letting go again. Mischa reveled in seeing him fighting the pain, desperately trying to cope.
    “I’ll start counting now.” The boy couldn’t be that far from his limit, obedience or not. “Ten, nine, eight...” Tom’s sounds were deep yells, each one dragged out of him by Mischa’s hands. “Seven, six, five...” There were tears in Tom’s eyes now, the boy so close to crying. Mischa closed his hands just a bit tighter; the tears would be good for Tom. “Four, three, two...” Tom stubbornly held on, keeping it together, refusing to give in. “One, zero.” He let go, and Tom made a hoarse sound, more animal than human.
    Mischa lay down, scooping the boy up in his arms, willing Tom to let go. Tom was tense, protesting the embrace. He was gasping, almost sobbing, but stubbornly refusing to cry. He still had one hand clutching the sheet, and he was sniffing almost angrily to keep the tears away. Mischa only held on, rocking him and gently stroking his back.
    After a while, Tom got calmer, and Mischa lowered him on the pillow. He gently stroked his sub’s hair, caressing the soft skin. Tom persistently refused to meet Mischa’s eyes. Then Mischa gently grabbed Tom’s hair and jaw, turning his boy’s face so Tom was forced to look into Mischa’s eyes.
    “Do you need another countdown?” Mischa spoke softly, kindly. Tom’s eyes widened, and the boy was about to protest when Mischa stopped him. “No, think about it. Do you need another countdown?” If the boy answered no, Mischa wouldn’t push. But he hoped that Tom would say yes.
    Tom was staring and didn’t try to talk when Mischa moved his hand. Then Tom swallowed around a sob.
    “Yes, sir. Please do it again.”
    Mischa immediately bent down, rewarding Tom’s insight with a kiss, comforting and soothing. Then he leaned back up, smiling. He stroked Tom’s cheek. “Well done. I won’t make you ask again.” He moved down between Tom’s legs, gently caressing his sub’s prone body on his way. “I won’t increase the pressure gradually this time; the pain will be there from the start, and then I’ll count down from fifteen.” Tom’s eyes got nervous at the higher number. Mischa wasn’t worried; it would hurt more, but it would be a pure pain, free of the fear and anxiety of the ever-increasing pressure. And Tom needed it.
    Mischa waited until Tom nodded, then grabbed his ball sac tightly, immediately giving him the full pain. Tom roared, and Mischa started the countdown. At twelve, Tom was still shouting. At ten, he went quiet, and Mischa knew that he had gotten to the point where he couldn’t understand the pain anymore, couldn’t work around it. At seven, he finally started to cry, and down to zero his sobs were long and hoarse and hardly human.
    Mischa let go, and this time, Tom came easily into his arms, the sobs wracking his boy’s body. Mischa hugged him, stroking and petting him and letting him weep. Tom cried for a long time, and the Dom let him, rubbing Tom’s back until the boy had cried himself out. Mischa grabbed a blanket and pulled it over them. Then