Florentine

by Mazarin Stone

  “That was unbelievable,” he finally says and flops back against the curved head of the lounge. “I think my nipples are going to fall off, though,” he says and winces. They really are awfully puffy and sore, but the rest of him feels magnificent. He rolls his tongue around his mouth, chasing the taste of Mahiro from his lips, content, if a bit worn out.

  Mahiro climbs off him then, and puts a gentle hand on Alex’s cheek. “Stay here,” he says. “I need to get something ready, and I’ll be right back for you. Are you okay if I do that?”

  Alex nods. He’s not even sure he can move, but sure. He might just fall asleep here. Alex closes his eyes.

  He might have actually dozed for a moment, because when next he’s aware, Mahiro is helping him rise from the lounge and leading him toward the back of the playroom and into the bathroom he saw last week. When he steps inside, he’s shocked.

  A full modern bath, all white subway tiles, cork flooring, and chrome fixtures. There’s a very large whirlpool tub on one side, which is being filled with steaming water, and a glass-enclosed shower on the other with two large rainfall showerheads. He doesn’t see a toilet, but there’s another door that could be where it is, and a double sink with a large mirror where he can see himself, arm slung over Mahiro’s shoulder and slowly walking toward the bath.

  “Sit on the side. Don’t try to climb in,” Mahiro instructs, and Alex does, then turns around and slips into the warm, soothing water. When his nipples hit the heat he hisses discomfort. Mahiro pulls up a stool to sit down next to the tub and tilts Alex’s head back against the small bath pillow and examines his chest closely.

  “They’re sensitive and puffy, but you’ll be fine. We’ll put some Aquaphor on, and I’ll give you a couple of pads to put over them to keep the rubbing to a minimum.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How are you feeling?” Mahiro asks and passes a soft hand through Alex’s hair.

  “Worn out,” he says. “But good. Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. You did so well, Alex. Better than I could have expected. Did you like it?”

  Alex sinks farther into the water and washes the come off his chin. Mahiro watches him with bright eyes, face ever so slightly pink. His hair is starting to fall from its slicked-back style, and it softens his face considerably.

  “I loved it,” Alex says carefully. “I was a little worried about how I would be able to breathe when I was over your lap because I thought most of my weight would be on my chest, but once I got there, I realized that was why I was on my knees, right?”

  Mahiro nods and pulls down a clean washcloth and pours some bath gel on it. It smells soft and warm, like cedar. Alex tilts his chin up when Mahiro taps him, and Mahiro carefully cleans his face, his neck, his chest. It’s soothing and delicate, and Alex luxuriates in being taken care of like this.

  “I’ll never put you in a position I don’t think you can breathe in. It’s one of your hard limits, and I won’t cross that line. But if you ever panic or feel like you can’t breathe anyway, safeword and we’ll break the scene. Thank you for trusting me enough to do what I told you, and being honest with me.”

  “I just don’t want to disappoint you,” Alex says, as Mahiro washes his arms. “I want to do well at this. It’s the most incredible experience I’ve ever had.”

  Mahiro rinses Alex’s arms and shoulders and starts work on his feet. He’s smiling gently, focused on Alex’s body. The silence is comfortable, relaxing. Alex dozes.

  “It’s time to get out,” Mahiro croons in his ear. “You’re going to drown if I leave you there.”

  Alex groans. “Just leave me here to die. It’ll be worth it.”

  “Nope,” Mahiro says and reaches between Alex’s feet and pops the drain open. Alex pouts. He cracks his eyes open and sees Mahiro is in a pair of gym shorts now, hair damp and soft. How long had he been asleep? “When did that happen?” Alex says, tugging on Mahiro’s shorts.

  “I jumped in the shower while you were out. I could at least see you from in there. It only took me a few minutes.”

  Alex groans when he looks over at the large, very open, glass-enclosed shower. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

  “You snooze, you lose,” Mahiro chirps, and Alex groans again.

  “That was awful. Really and truly terrible. Possibly the worst English joke I’ve ever heard.”

  “Whatever, Russians probably don’t even know how to make jokes,” Mahiro says, and Alex puts a hand over his heart.

  “I’m wounded. How dare you insult the country of my birth? Besides, in Russia, jokes make you.”

  Mahiro stares at him, mouth open. “No. No they don’t. That was even worse than mine, and I didn’t know that was possible.”

  Alex laughs, delighted, then pulls up short. “I know my accent is still pretty heavy, but how did you know I was from Russia? I could be Ukrainian, or Lithuanian.”

  Mahiro blushes and hands him a towel. “Ah. Well. You’re not as anonymous as you think you might be,” he says carefully, as Alex dries himself. “You’re an Olympian, a multiple gold medalist. I’ve seen you before, on TV. And in some magazines.”

  Alex smiles. “I know. I just wondered if you did.”

  “Well, I do, so tone your ego down, mister gold medalist.” Mahiro snatches the towel from his hands and flicks him on the rear with it. “I’m in charge here.”

  Alex yelps and rubs his butt. “Hey! Playtime is over!”

  Mahiro sobers immediately. “So it is.” He looks very serious, and Alex can’t help himself. He feels light and buoyant and happy. He dives forward and grabs Mahiro around the waist and hefts him over his shoulder. Mahiro yelps and laughs and tries to wiggle his way free. “Nope,” Alex says, clamps his arm around Mahiro’s legs, and carries him back into the playroom and over to the stool where his clothes are.

  “Okay, okay, I get it,” Mahiro says and smacks Alex on the butt again. Alex just laughs and puts him down. “You’re a big strong man who can carry me around if you want. But just wait. I’ll have the last laugh when you’re suspended from the ceiling in here.”

  “Oooh, promise?” Alex says, and Mahiro rolls his eyes and helps Alex into his underwear and pants.

  He slips Alex’s shirt on and buttons it, then straightens his hair before cupping his cheek softly, thumb on Alex’s bottom lip. Alex can feel the warmth of his touch all the way to his toes.

  “I guarantee it,” he says.

  Chapter 5

  MAHIRO STANDS in front of the full-length cheval mirror in his room and slowly peels his gym shorts down his hips. His knuckles bump the dark purple, angry-looking bruise that still spills across his skin, a mottled and ugly testament to the triple lutz he utterly failed on Wednesday, and he winces.

  He’d made the triple axel, though.

  Meeting Alex, being with him in person, has given Mahiro the sort of joy and verve in skating he hasn’t felt in years, even though he kept up with it, kept himself in shape and sharp as a knife because he couldn’t not, after all the hours and blood and sweat he’d poured into it.

  But that bruise, though. It’s a waving red flag to anyone who had any experience in skating, advertising what it was from, and Alex certainly wouldn’t have missed it, especially since the bruises on his feet belied his own practice. Fortunately Mahiro had avoided most of that sort of damage, but he pulled on his tightest leather pants as an excuse to keep himself dressed during his session with Alex, and swore to himself nothing more complicated than a double toe loop from here on out, if that.

  Mahiro carefully rubs arnica along the bruise with gentle fingers and climbs into bed. He tries to focus on Instagram, trying to catch up with people’s lives, when his mind drifts back to Alex.

  He was sweet and obedient, sexy and inquisitive. Mahiro shudders internally at the phantom sensation of Alex’s ass under his fingertips, the silky soft skin of his cock, the memory of his face with Mahiro’s come shining on his lips.

  Fuck. He’s starting to get hard
again.

  But afterward, in the bath. He was so funny and so playful. He’d been asking questions about Mahiro’s life, wanting to know about him. Like he actually likes Mahiro, not just as a Dom or as a teacher, but as a person. Is that even possible?

  Is it important? He’s not known other people who’ve subbed for him that well before.

  You know it is, he thinks as he jerks off to the echo of Alex’s “Oooh, promise?” purred in his ear.

  ADAM CATCHES up to him next while he’s on the sofa, shoveling down his allowed Saturday bowl of cocoa puffs and watching a recorded episode of BattleBots. He drops next to Mahiro on the sofa and falls over onto his side with a groan.

  “Get your feet away from my cereal,” Mahiro mumbles around a bite. “I don’t care you’re hungover. That’s your own fault.”

  “Bleah. I’m never drinking with Amy and Jamie ever, ever again,” he says. “I hate myself.”

  Mahiro snorts and takes another bite. He waits. It’ll happen, any time now. May as well get it over with.

  “Soooooo,” Adam starts.

  “He was really great,” Mahiro says. “Perfect. Again.”

  Adam tilts his head. “Perfect? Like, not a single mistake? That’s unusual. You guys must be really on the same wavelength.”

  Mahiro puts his bowl down, the cereal sitting heavy on his stomach. “Well, yeah. I think so. He’s into nipple clamps, so far. Spanking. He’s got good stamina and likes a challenge. I’ve not pushed any really hard stuff.”

  “Is it on his list?”

  Mahiro thinks. “Yeah, to a point. He’s got floggers on his yes list. Caning is a soft limit. I think he could really like impact play. I’m not fond of really taking a paddle to him quite yet. I’m not ready to push him to that extent. Even if he screws up, it’ll be light.”

  Adam nods quickly. “Of course. Maybe he’d be ready for flogging. I mean, don’t just give him all your faves because they’re yours, you know. Don’t forget figuring out what he likes.”

  “I’m not!” Mahiro flips around on the sofa so he can look Adam in the face. “I mean, I’m not trying to, anyway. I got out the clamps because he touched himself first. I’m trying to watch him.” Mahiro feels a sick panic in his stomach. He’s doing what he thinks Alex would like, isn’t he? He’s tailoring their play to keep Alex interested and happy while he’s learning.

  But you’ve taken your own pleasure too, his mind whispers. Well, of course he has. It’s a give-and-take relationship. He does this for his own satisfaction. It’s not totally altruistic.

  “Look, Mahiro, I’m not trying to freak you out. I just worry about you getting in too deep with him. But I also know how good you are at this. I’m sorry I brought it up.” Adam rubs his hand over his neck and looks really guilty. “I mean, I’ve seen you do things for people I couldn’t imagine. I know you’ll be good to Alex too. Just try a few things out on him and see what he thinks.”

  Mahiro nods and turns back to the TV, thoughts in a whirl. He’s ready to ramp it up a bit, but is Alex?

  9:36 A.M.

  Monday, June 16

  Hi, Mahiro! It’s Alex. Is it okay if we text?

  Mahiro looks at his phone. He’s never really communicated outside of a scene with anyone quite like this, save email and messages on FetLife. But he did tell Alex to let him know if he had any questions, so….

  9:40 a.m.

  Sure. What’s up?

  9:41 a.m.—Alex

  I’m wondering, what would draw a person into some of the heavier stuff? Like, whips or knives? Or those suits where they can’t really breathe?

  9:43 a.m.

  It depends on the person. Some people like the sensation. Bearing pain can help them focus, and dive deeper into subspace. Like, if you’re hurt while you’re doing something, sometimes you zone out because you’re so focused. The pain retreats.

  9:44 a.m.

  As for not breathing, there can be many reasons, but the thrill of giving that power—it feels like life and death, and requires immense trust. I don’t do it very often because frankly I don’t feel comfortable holding that type of power. But I have done it.

  9:45 a.m.—Alex

  Wow. What did you do?

  9:50 a.m.

  The last time was erotic asphyxiation. You cover the mouth and nose to restrict airflow during sex. Then release at about the moment of orgasm. The rush is intense. Or so I’m told.

  9:51 a.m.—Alex

  I don’t know what sounds hotter, the sex or you standing over someone holding them like that.

  9:58 a.m.—Alex

  Mahiro?

  10:02 a.m.

  Sorry, got called away. It’s a different sort of thing for me, but I’ve had partners who like it, so I’ve tried it a few times. It feels too dangerous for me to do, really.

  10:03 a.m.

  Would you be interested? You said no breathplay.

  10:04 a.m.—Alex

  No, not that, but.

  I want to be totally helpless for you.

  Mahiro swallows hard and pushes away from his desk. There’s no way he can focus on testing this app right now, not when Alex is asking him for exactly what Mahiro’s been longing for: total control without hesitation.

  10:06 a.m.

  If you don’t have a plug, get one. Wear it Friday. Be ready, nude, at 7:05. You can touch yourself this week, but don’t come until I give you permission. Do you understand?

  10:08 a.m.—Alex

  Yes, sir. ;)

  Mahiro throws himself out of his chair and onto his bed in a full-body wriggle of excitement. Then he realizes it’s only Monday.

  This is going to be the longest week ever.

  MAHIRO TAKES a deep breath to calm his nerves. He’s pacing now, back and forth in front of the door to the playroom, the wood floor smooth and cool against his bare feet. He’s as ready for tonight as he’ll ever be, he knows that: his hair is slicked back away from his face, he’s wearing his favorite dark wash distressed jeans. He even carefully outlined his eyes and added a dab of glitter to the outside edge. He’s decided to forego a shirt as he’s positive Alex likes his piercings. The playroom is set and ready, everything is clean and organized, and….

  He still can’t open the door.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” he hisses to himself. “He wants more, so give it to him already.”

  Mahiro throws open the door with a bit more force than he intends. Alex, to his credit, doesn’t even move, just stays kneeling with the same calm, cool poise he’s known for on the ice. Mahiro’s mouth goes dry at the sight of him, and when he walks over to trace his fingertips from Alex’s nape to his tailbone, his heart thuds at the sight of the base of a clear glass plug peeking out from between his cheeks.

  “You’re so good for me, Alex,” he purrs into Alex’s ear, compliance with this simple request giving him confidence and helping him find his center. “Did you have a good week?”

  Alex shivers a bit as Mahiro slides the backs of his fingers down his cheek. “Yes, sir. It was very… long, though,” he adds wryly, and Mahiro laughs.

  “Did you have a difficult time complying with my instructions?”

  “Yes. I was close a number of times, but I didn’t come.” Alex says this with a lift of his chin, and Mahiro believes him. He is proud; he’s happy to do well. That convinces him, then, to go ahead and move forward with the plan for the evening.

  “I’m so, so proud of you, beautiful.” Mahiro steps in front of him and rewards him with a kiss on the forehead. “Are you ready for things to get a bit more intense tonight? Do you still want that?”

  “Yes.” Alex’s eyes are closed, his face the picture of bliss.

  At the sight of him, so beautifully open and trusting, Mahiro struggles to hold on to his traitorous heart, ready to float away and land right in Alex’s hands. He could crush it with the tiniest flick of his fingers, damage it beyond repair, and as Mahiro watches those big blue eyes blink up at him with affection and expectation, he
resolves to be everything Alex needs him to be and nothing else.

  “Go lay down across that bench, then, on your stomach. Let your body lie along the length of it, legs on each side.” Mahiro points to the long wooden bench that will hold all of Alex’s weight off his knees yet leave him still open, ass in the air. Alex rises, walks over to the bench, and smirks just slightly as he slowly lifts a leg over to straddle the bench, the glass base of his plug plainly visible.

  “Naughty,” Mahiro says and smacks him on the ass on his way to the cabinet. Alex yelps surprise, then giggles. “Do you like how it feels?”

  “Yes, sir,” Alex says. “It’s not as big as some I’ve had, but….” He settles himself along the bench, chin resting on his folded hands. “I do like to work for it a little bit.”

  Mahiro swallows quickly, pulls the suede flogger from the rack, and runs his fingers through the tails. “Is that right?” he says and hopes Alex didn’t see the slight shudder that ran down his spine. He admires Alex’s body along the bench as he walks back over, the weight of the flogger in his hands making him itchy to swing it. But before that can happen, he crouches down, level with Alex’s eyes.

  “This is my favorite, Alex,” he says carefully and relishes Alex’s smile. “It’s not intended to be very painful, but it is very intense. It will make you feel exactly how I want you to feel. Would you like me to use it?”

  Alex breathes out, one long, shuddering exhale. “Yes, please. Sir.”

  “Good.” Mahiro straightens and stands behind him, and flips the flogger in a figure eight, a quick warm-up for his wrists. The weight feels balanced and light, so he gathers the fall in his opposite hand and, with a quick prayer of gratitude to the stars that aligned to let him be here in this moment, lets it drop right onto the fleshy, pert right cheek of Alex Breschi’s ass.