“The orders make him brave. They give him enough focus to get past his embarrassment.”
Luke nodded. “I’ll have him stay with us while we eat. Kneeling will give him some protection.”
Carey grinned but didn’t say anything.
“What?”
“He’s imprinting on you. You’re his safe place now.”
Luke shook his head. “You planned this all along, didn’t you?”
“I’m admitting to nothing.”
Smug suited Carey, much to Luke’s annoyance. He found himself scanning the restaurant, eager for Skye’s return. It was a few minutes before he emerged from the kitchen, a large plate of appetizers in his hands. When he bent to place them on the low table in front of Luke’s seat, there were several sharp intakes of breath from diners at the surrounding tables. Luke glared at their occupants.
“You may put your kilt back on, Skye.”
Not bothering to hide his relief, Skye buckled the garment around his hips. “Thank you, Sir.” He resumed his position kneeling next to Luke’s chair.
Grinning, Carey took a breaded prawn from the appetizer platter. “Eat something, Luke. I can’t manage all this food on my own. We’ll move to a proper dining table when the main course is ready.”
“Do you have any allergies, Skye?” Luke asked. Confusion shadowed Skye’s pretty face. “It’s an easy enough question,” Luke reprimanded. “I expect an answer.”
“No, Sir. I’m not allergic to anything.”
“Any strong dislikes? I’m talking about food here.”
“Nothing too spicy, Sir.”
Luke hid a smile. He selected a miniature blini, topped with a slither of smoked salmon and some cream cheese, from the plate then held it to Skye’s plump lips. Skye opened for him, accepting the treat. Luke fed him a few more appetizers before taking anything for himself. Skye’s quiet moans of satisfaction were enough to make Luke hard, something he didn’t try to hide. Every now and again he caught Carey giving him a knowing glance. Luke’s boss was enjoying every moment of the scene he had engineered.
“Find us a table for the main course, please, Skye.” Luke ordered. “I’d like a glass of white wine to go with the risotto, something light. You may ask the barman for advice on a suitable choice. Carey, would you like another drink with lunch?”
“I’ll have the same.”
“Two glasses then, please. Then you may check on progress in the kitchen. Take the wine straight to the table.”
Once Skye had risen and moved away to complete his tasks, Luke turned to Carey. “What exactly do you have planned, Carey?”
“Skye needs a Master, and you need someone to train. A Dom without a sub is an empty shell.”
“Very philosophical. And do you not think I’m capable of finding the right man myself?”
“Frankly, my friend, no.” Carey chuckled. “Ninety-nine percent of the time, you’re stuck down in Hampshire, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by men with their own partners. I don’t think Rayne or the houseboys are your type, and Tor keeps his kitchen assistants firmly chained to the stove. You have little opportunity to hunt down a good sub. You’re an excellent manager and I don’t want to lose you. Skye will keep you well occupied.”
“I never pegged you as a matchmaker, Carey. I’m appalled.”
“No, you’re not. You’re intrigued. You’re already feeling protective. Where’s the harm? Take him back to Hampshire with you tomorrow, put him to work and see where things go. Train him. He probably won’t even realize you’re doing it.”
“He’s very young.”
“He is. This is his first job after graduating. He got his other experience working part-time while he was a student. It’s all the more reason that he should find his way under the guidance of someone experienced. The Underground is a safe space, but sooner or later his curiosity is going to get him into the sort of trouble he won’t be able to handle.”
The thought of Skye venturing into the world of Dominance and submission without protection sent a cold shiver down Luke’s spine. “Perhaps it is time,” he murmured. “Fine. I’ll take him back to The Retreat. But don’t think you’ve heard the last of this, Carey. Wait till I tell Alistair about your meddling.”
“Who do you think is really behind this?” Carey chuckled. “Alistair will be delighted that his plan has worked. Be warned, the sub mafia is a powerful organization with a long reach.”
Luke sighed. “Someone needs to put that in the BDSM manual in big red letters. There are a lot of unsuspecting, innocent Doms out there ready to get hooked.”
“Indeed. How about we contemplate our vulnerability over some good food and wine?”
Deciding alcohol might be a good idea as he didn’t have to drive anywhere, Luke followed Carey to the table Skye had selected for them. He needed a distraction from silver hair and big violet eyes before he did something he might regret.
Chapter Two
Skye cast surreptitious glances at the handsome, stern man behind the wheel. Luke Redding’s Lexus was the nicest car Skye had ever ridden in. The tantalizing smell of leather tickled his nostrils as he tried to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible. The thought of being responsible for such a luxurious vehicle gave Skye palpitations. He was much more at home driving his grandfather’s beaten-up, thirty-year-old Land Rover around the farm. It smelled of sheep, dogs and manure.
“Something you’re thinking about made you smile,” Luke said. “Want to tell me about it?”
He didn’t take his eyes off the road, but there was an air of expectancy about his silence. Skye nibbled his lower lip, wondering if he should lie and make up something glamorous. “I was thinking about the smell of wet sheep, Sir.” He blurted the words before he could stop himself.
“I’m intrigued.” Luke checked his mirrors before joining the steady flow of motorway traffic.
“I grew up on a farm, Sir. Private land so I was driving all kinds of stuff by the time I was fourteen, but I usually drove in wellies. In your car, I feel like I should take my shoes off.” He lifted his feet, checking he hadn’t left any traces of dirt on the pristine carpets.
“I have a cousin who keeps a herd of Aberdeen Angus beef cattle in the Highlands,” Luke said. “It’s a tough life, but very rewarding.”
“My grandad keeps sheep in Somerset, some of them rare breeds, on the edge of Exmoor.”
“And your parents? Where are they?”
“My mum died when I was very young, Sir. A hereditary condition that made her susceptible to infection. I grew up on my grandparents’ farm.” Skye didn’t remember his mother at all. It had always been him and his dad, Batman and Robin, supported by his hardworking grandparents.
“And your father?”
“Gone, Sir.” The inexorable creep of sadness enveloped Skye. Talking about his dad was still a raw, open wound.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Luke frowned. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
Skye stared out of the window, not sure whether to explain. Luke tapped one finger on the leather-wrapped steering wheel.
“You know, you don’t have to call me Sir, Skye. Unless you want to. Mr. Redding is fine.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll stick with Sir. It feels right.” That was one of the few things Skye was sure about. It hadn’t occurred to him to call Luke anything else. He was grateful that Luke had changed the subject—a deliberate kindness he suspected.
“Then that’s fine. Tell me, Skye, what do you hope to get out of working at The Retreat?”
“I’m very grateful for the opportunity, Sir.”
“That isn’t what I asked you, though, is it?” Luke’s demeanor didn’t change. He didn’t seem angry.
“Sorry.” All Skye’s bravery crumbled. He chewed on a fingernail.
“Stop that,” Luke ordered. “No more biting nails or gnawing on your lip. I expect an answer to the question, Skye.”
Tears wel
led in Skye’s eyes at the thought that he had already managed to disappoint Luke. He fought them back. He couldn’t imagine Luke had an ounce of patience for a blubbering, emotional sub.
“I want to find out what kind of submissive I am, Sir.”
“And you haven’t had the chance to explore that yet, have you?”
“No,” Skye whispered. “I watched…at The Underground. Tried to understand, but it was all so confusing.”
“Well, The Retreat is a good place to start. You’ll see submission in all its forms amongst our guests, from full-time slaves to men who just like the occasional foray into bondage. There are as many kinds of submission as there are submissives.”
“And Dominants, Sir?” A small grain of Skye’s courage returned.
“Yes, Dominants too. The lifestyle isn’t a one-size-fits-all kind of thing.”
“Alistair said you’d help me, look after me. He said you were patient. I’ll try my best, I promise.”
“And I won’t ask for anything more. While you’re under my care, I’ll do what I can to guide you. But you have to understand that decisions about what you want in the future will have to come from you, Skye. I’ll give you the structure you need to make them in your own time, but I won’t be able to make them for you.”
“I’m a good server, Sir. I enjoy the routine of it, but it’s not what I want to be forever. I have a degree in history. I’d like to be a researcher someday.”
“I have an interest in military history,” Luke said. “Something I studied at Dartmouth.”
“You were in the navy, Sir?” Skye wasn’t surprised. Luke had the posture and manner of an officer.
“For fifteen years. I resigned my commission to take care of my father. After Dad died, Mr. Hoffman offered me the management role at The Retreat. I already knew him through The Underground. It turned out to be a good move. I love the peace and quiet of the New Forest.”
“I think I’ll like it too. It will be more like home. London is noisy,” Skye said. “It scares me. Everyone at The Underground was kind to me, but I felt out of place, like I didn’t quite fit.”
“How did you find the job at the club in the first place?”
“I had a friend at university who told me about it. He had a boyfriend who fancied himself as a Dom who was a member.”
“Fancied himself?”
“He wasn’t the real thing, Sir.”
“You can tell?”
“True Dominants have this aura of certainty about them, Sir. Like they’re in control of everything around them and aren’t afraid of anything. They don’t have to shout or show off. It’s in their eyes, their mannerisms and expressions. It’s not one thing—it’s a special combination. Not many men have it. A lot just play at it.” Skye gulped, shocked at his runaway tongue. “I shouldn’t assume to know anything about it…”
“Why not? Who better to recognize a true Dominant than a true submissive? The same thing applies in reverse, you know—there’s something unique about a true, natural submissive. It’s a very special thing to place your trust in another man. Submission is a gift and you shouldn’t give yours carelessly.”
It was advice, not a reprimand. Skye thought handing control to Luke wouldn’t be difficult at all—it would be a relief. Responsibility for big decisions made him anxious whereas Luke wouldn’t blink twice. He wondered what kind of body Luke hid beneath his shirt and tie. He had broad shoulders and narrow hips. Slender fingers gripped the steering wheel. He had a young face—Skye guessed he was around his mid-thirties but couldn’t be sure. He was certain that Luke’s handsome, if stern features appealed to him. A lot. He’d dreamt about him the previous night for the few hours he had managed to sleep. Luke had stayed over with Mr. Hoffmann and Alistair then picked Skye up just after lunch. It had been easy enough for Skye to pack his few things as he’d been staying with two of the other subs from the club while he saved some money. They had cried and hugged him but wished him the very best of luck, promising him the tiny box room again if he ever needed it.
Luke flexed his fingers on the wheel and Skye’s thoughts reverted to the present. He couldn’t help but wonder what those fingers would feel like wrapped around his wrist, or, better still, his dick. He shifted in his seat, thankful that the hoodie he wore hid his misbehaving cock.
“While you are under my control, Skye, you won’t be allowed to come without my permission.”
Skye glimpsed a brief smile, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. “I’m twenty-two, Sir.” Skye thought that should be enough to explain why Luke was asking the impossible.
“Which is why, when we get back to The Retreat, I’ll be fitting you with a chastity device. I don’t expect miracles.”
“A ch…ch…”
“Chastity is the word you’re looking for, Skye.”
Skye took a few deep breaths. Hyperventilation was a distinct possibility. He recognized the irony that just the idea of a cock cage made him want to come even more. “Oh God…”
“It’s nothing to be afraid of, Skye.”
“No, Sir. It’s not that. I just wish you’d waited a while to tell me.” Skye pressed both hands over his groin. This time Luke did smile. A low chuckle followed.
“Like that idea, huh? You see—we’re already uncovering your kinks. I think further discussion should wait until later, though, don’t you?”
“Yes! I mean, yes please, Sir.” The rest of the journey was going to be excruciating enough.
* * * *
Luke did his familiar tour of The Retreat on automatic pilot, more concerned about Skye’s reaction than about describing every detail. His new charge was quiet, his eyes getting wider at every new revelation. He seemed most excited by the dungeon, but Luke made this assumption based only on the way Skye’s glance flickered from one piece of equipment to another, because he didn’t speak unless Luke asked him a direct question. By the time they returned to Luke’s office, Skye was unable to keep still. He fidgeted, moving his weight from foot to foot.
Luke took the seat behind his desk. He steepled his fingers, debating how to begin. It was nothing more than a feeling, but he thought Skye would respond best to strict rules and discipline. He didn’t want to coddle him, but he was also cognizant of Skye’s inexperience and his innocence. He decided to go with his gut.
“Take your clothes off, Skye. Fold them and put them on the desk.” He made sure his tone was firm. He wanted it to sound like an order, not a request.
Skye took a shuddering breath but did as he was asked. Shoes and socks first, then his jeans and shirt. He wore plain black boxer briefs, tented by an eager erection. Luke was happy to see such a positive reaction to a simple command and, though Skye hesitated before rolling his underwear down, his compliance didn’t take long.
“Hands behind your back, legs apart. Next time, I expect no hesitation.” Luke gave his trainee sub a critical examination. There were no tattoos or scars to mark Skye’s skin and no piercings. A few freckles decorated his collarbone. Neatly trimmed dark hair bedded his cock, which stood proud and straight from his body. His balls were hairless and plump. Luke resisted the urge to lick his lips as he admired the sculpted muscle of youth. Skye was slender, still to fill out his frame, but stunning.
“You have a beautiful body.” Skye’s cheeks, already tinged with pink, darkened. “I want you to jack off for me.”
“Sir?”
“Is there something you don’t understand, Skye? I thought the order was clear.”
“No, Sir. I understood. I was just…nothing. I’m sorry.” Skye took his shaft in trembling fingers.
“Look at me. Maintain eye contact.” Luke barely blinked, pinning Skye with his gaze. “Do you have a safe word?”
“No… No, Sir,” Skye stuttered.
“You need to choose one. If you’re uncomfortable with anything I ask you to do, you can use it and everything stops. For now, just use the word ‘red’ if you need to.” Skye whimpered, but didn’t respond. “This is the
last time you’ll come for a while. I suggest you enjoy it.”
Skye gave his rigid cock two quick tugs. Gasping, he shot into his hand and the scent of his release filled the air. Watching him reach the moment of completion took Luke’s breath away. He busied himself finding a packet of wipes in his desk drawer. He handed them over before standing and opening a glass-fronted bookcase. On a shelf inside were several unopened packages containing samples of bespoke chastity devices provided by a company interested in some joint promotional work with The Retreat. They were handcrafted and of the highest quality. Luke couldn’t wait to see how the burnished steel would look encasing Skye’s cock. He selected the model he preferred—an adjustable cage rather than a solid tube.
“You can wear this in the shower and it won’t stop you going to the toilet. There are lighter versions, but I want you to know you’re wearing it.” He fitted the cage, relieved that his hands were steady. “It has an integral locking mechanism controlled by this Allen key.” The ring encircling the base of Skye’s balls closed as Luke twisted the octagonal key. “There. Perfect.”
Skye gave his imprisoned cock a woeful look. “If you say so, Sir.”
Luke chuckled. “Have a think about that safe word. You can dress now and take some time to unpack. The rest of the staff will be back shortly to make the final preparations for the party arriving tomorrow. You’ll meet them at supper, which will be at seven in the staff dining room. Do you remember where that is?”
“I’ll find it, Sir.” Skye scrambled into his clothes.
“Skye.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Welcome to The Retreat.”
Skye’s shy smile held no doubt. “I think I’m going to like it here.”
“I hope so. You’ve made a promising start.” Skye blushed at the tiny bit of praise. He lowered his eyes. “Off you go.”
Once Skye had left the office, closing the door behind him, Luke returned to his seat. A pile of paperwork awaited him, but his cock ached. He flipped open his trousers with a resigned sigh. Skye’s bee-stung lips would be far preferable to his own hand, but he was training Skye, not using him for personal gratification. However tempting it might be, sex was off the menu. The Retreat had rules and Luke wasn’t above them. He had to be an example to the rest of the team.
Trusting Him Page 2