And that was the difference. That's why they could have this now when they couldn't before, when neither of them could tell if it was because it was what they wanted or because it was what they needed. And it made now all the more precious.
"That's good," he breathed, soft, almost inaudible, but Isaac could still hear it. "That's so good, Isaac." He rewarded his slave with more hits from the whip, new red marks appearing where the old had healed, but never hard enough to break the skin. He wanted Isaac's skin red, aroused, stimulated, but not hurting. Not really.