"Good." He shoved Mike's head forward, but it was just to forcefully let go of the junkie's hair rather than push him back against the sheets. He almost wished for Mike to screw up, to give him an excuse. Even in the warehouse, they never delved too deep into the extremes. Mike never needed anything worse than that spider gag and spreader bar. Nothing exotic. Even now, he doubted Mike would ever go far enough for Liam to have an excuse for what he had in mind. He only ever got to pull out those toys if he made the excuse himself.

His fingers dragged down Mike's neck and over his back. "To prove you understand, you're going to count. Each strike you're going to say 'one , sir. two, sir.' until I say you're done. And if you stop..." He let out a dark chuckle. "Well, you don't really want to find out."

He stepped back, standing straight. He didn't ask if Mike understood. Didn't give him a chance to answer. Instead, he just brought the crop down, harder than the first blow now that he had the right angle. Hard enough to raise a welt, but not enough to draw blood. He paused. Waiting. Listening.