A Taste of Love

Hutch was tied to the leather embroidered cross in their playroom. He was naked and Starsky had already lightly spanked him, giving his ass cheeks a fetching reddish pink color. He looked amazing, and Starsky felt his heart swell with love and affection. He was going to give Hutch everything he deserved while showing him at the same time how wrong he was in his way of thinking.

He circled the cross, once, twice. Hutch was shivering with anticipation. Every now and then a tiny whimpering sound would escape his parted lips. Starsky stood behind him, close enough for Hutch to feel his body heat but not enough for their bodies to touch. Hutch couldn’t see him, which was how Starsky wanted it. He leaned in and whispered in Hutch’s ear.

“You see, Hutch… the problem with you is, you have the notion that something’s gotta taste rotten in order for it to make you feel good.”

Hutch drew a breath in. Starsky kissed the lobe of his ear. Hutch let out an almost inaudible moan.

“You think you have to suffer, and even worse, you think you deserve to suffer in order to be allowed to feel good. Well, sugar boy, I’m here to show you otherwise. I’m here to make you see the errors in your way of thinking. I’m here to teach you how incredible things that taste like honey can make you feel.”

Starsky allowed his fingertips to trace Hutch’s ass. He caressed the whole surface of the cheeks with a light, butterfly touch. He run his fingers all the way up to the small of Hutch’s back, over his hips, back down to his thighs, and up again along the cleft of his ass. Never pressing, never demanding.

“There’s nothing rotten between us, baby, and never will be. The only rotten thing is the way you’ve been taught to think, and I’m going to help you rip it out of your head and replace it with all the best stuff you’ve always deserved. Do you understand me, sweet boy?”

Hutch moaned, a long, deep sound, and nodded his head.

“I need your verbal acknowledgment. You know that, my beautiful boy. Use your words. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Hutch was breathing in a labored way.

“Good boy. Thank you.” Starsky kissed Hutch’s shoulder with tenderness. He kissed his head, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.

“Now let me take care of you. Let me show you the true taste of love. Let me show you Heaven.”