No. No, they don't need something different, unless it's Liam's hand on his dick--he opens his mouth to protest, actually only lets himself say half a syllable before he cuts himself off and bows his head and readies himself for what ever Liam is dong.

He can't stand this, waiting. Anticipating--bracing himself for things that may not even come. He wants Liam, either his mouth on his cock or fucking him, but he wants Liam, not Liam's demented version of punishment.

He shakes his head, however briefly, as the other hopes he hasn't lost count. Maybe if they had gotten further, maybe if he was higher than he was now instead of slowly coming down, yes, but he knows. It's one. It's only one.

His entire body jerks as Liam brings the bamboo cane down, hard, and it leaves him with a stinging sensation so difficult to pinpoint his toes curl, and it's not from pleasure. Nor is the strangled sound he gives, supposed to be a moan but changes sharply into a yell. It's a legitimate yell, not a whimper or a yelp--his ass clenches, his fingers move into fists, and he jerks his arms in response to the pain. They go nowhere, closed and it makes his entire straight jacket extremely uncomfortable.

"Two," He speaks, and it's a growl as he tries to catch his breath. His teeth are gritted. "Sir."