Carrick watched as Hermes positioned himself, pleased at how gracefully the boy moved, and how willingly he presented himself for the lash.
With slow, deliberate movements, he stepped close behind his slave and reached around his waist to unfasten the light linen trousers, drawing them down over the pale, now entirely bare skin. He let his hands linger on the smooth curve of Hermes' ass for a moment, thinking how beautiful it would look when striped red.
"Good boy," he murmured, and stepped back. He brought his wrist forwards in a sharp movement that sent the strap snapping smartly against the slave's waiting skin.