Yuletide Present
By Deirdre O’Dare
Published by JMS Books LLC
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Copyright 2020 Deirdre O’Dare
ISBN 9781646565368
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
Yuletide Present
By Deirdre O’Dare
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 1
Dellview, CO
Early fall
“I’d rather you just sit this one out, Robbie,” Daniel said. “It’s only a routine sabbat. I can conduct it without an assistant. Besides, you’ve fallen behind on your chores. Our altar is dusty, and look at the tarnish on the athame. You ought to be ashamed!”
Dropping to his knees, Rob cringed. For a few seconds he was back in that dark, dismal place, the one where he could do no right, where he knew he was unloved, worthless and would never be anything more. Almost reflexively, he shrank before he remembered. No, a blow would not follow. Daniel loves me and would never abuse me the way Aaron Cantwell did. Cruelty and brutality should have been his stepfather’s middle names. No, it was all right now. He just had to shape up and do better.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “It’s been—well, there never seems like enough time to do everything. I read all those books you selected, and I’m working on my notebook—I mean my personal book of days. I’m trying to learn, trying really hard. I guess I’m just slow and dull.”
Daniel ruffled his hair. “You’re progressing. Just keep giving it your best and try to remember everything I tell you. You know why you came here, why you became Wiccan. This is where you belong and, as my disciple, in time you will be made whole.”
With a swish of his flowing purple robe, the self-proclaimed Arch Mage stalked from the room. Rob rose from his crouched position and set to work cleaning the altar in the back parlor of the old Victorian house he shared with his mentor and lover. After every speck of dust was whisked away, he squared his shoulders, trying to fight off the weight of his unending errors and failings.
The athame was indeed dull. He found some silver polish and began to buff the slender blade. While he worked, he recited a prayerful invocation to the Goddess. After he finished the formal words, he added an unspoken plea of his own. Please, Lady, make me better, stronger, faster, worthy…
* * * *
Samhain was almost here. That date marked the middle of the growing hours of darkness, the start of the dreaded winter with its virtual Christmas tree laden with bitter, burning memories. Rob felt his seasonal depression closing around him. He’d joined a Wiccan coven a few months ago in hopes the pagan group wouldn’t mark the holiday season so he could lock those dismal times into a sealed box in the back of his mind. True, even though Christmas wasn’t a part of the Wiccan observances, much to his dismay, he discovered the midwinter solstice and Yule celebrations carried many of the same traditional trappings. How much the Christians had accepted!
Daniel allowed Rob to take a small part in the elaborate Samhain ceremony but his mind wandered for an instant, recalling Halloween in his old life. He made a mistake. Two words of the short passage he had memorized to recite became scrambled. He spoke them out of sequence, stumbled and went back to get them right.
Although Daniel didn’t interrupt the proceedings to chastise him, Rob knew what would come later. In a haze of dread and disappointment in himself, he staggered through the rest of the ritual.
As they drove home from the ceremony, Daniel didn’t say a word. Rob huddled in the passenger seat, closing his eyes like he used to. It was a game: if he couldn’t see anyone, they surely couldn’t see him. With his stepfather, it never had worked, though.
Once they were home, Daniel tossed his cape onto a chair and turned to Rob. “I think it’s time you met the dragon again, don’t you? Muffing that passage was such a stupid mistake. Who knows what the consequences may be? Surely the Deities, especially the Goddess, are offended, and they have every right to take revenge. If you surrender in sacrifice to the dragon, perhaps that will atone.”
Rob dropped to his knees even before Daniel finished speaking. “Aye, aye, master, I should meet the dragon.” He’d already shut his eyes again but he heard Daniel rustling around the room and began to wonder what he might suffer this time.
Meeting the dragon seemed to be a kind of code word or euphemism for punishment, for pain and degradation that he must suffer when he erred badly. Sometimes it ended in sex, which he both dreaded and anticipated.
The first thing he had to do was strip. He didn’t even wait for the order but stood just long enough to pull off his shirt and then unfasten his trousers, dropping and stepping out of them right after he toed off both shoes. Nude, he again sank to his knees.
Next he felt the silk scarf against his face as Daniel put the blindfold on him. It didn’t matter; he wasn’t going to open his eyes anyway but the blindfold was customary. Next Daniel grabbed both of Rob’s arms and jerked them back, tying them behind him, crossed at the wrists. At first it wasn’t painful but it would become so as time passed. The cord might be silk but it was strong. Daniel drew it tight and tied knots that never seemed to slip. Within a few seconds Rob could feel the strain in his shoulders, the first tingle before numbness began in his fingertips and slowly crept up his hands.
He heard the footsteps as Daniel stepped back, away from him. Rob didn’t have to see to know the other man retreated to a favorite chair and sat down in it.
“Come.” The one word sounded harsh and cold. Rob knew better than to try to get up and he couldn’t crawl with his arms behind him so he inched along on his knees, the faded carpet rough and scratchy against his skin.
“That’s enough. Bend down now and kiss your master’s feet.”
Rob sat back on his heels, trying to keep his balance as he bent forward. He couldn’t see, only feel and blindly guess. He encountered only dusty carpet at first but finally found Daniel’s bare feet. He pressed his lips to first the right one and then the left.
“I kiss the feet of the dragon, my master.”
“Now come closer, barely closer…”
Rocking back as he straightened, Rob inched ahead, left and then right. He sensed himself between Daniel’s knees now and hesitated. Was he close enough?
A strong hand grasped his head, fingers digging into his scalp. It didn’t quite hurt, or at least he told himself so. The hand guided him to bend forward again though not so far this time. He felt the heat from aroused flesh as he scented the musky
odor of Daniel’s ballocks, scarcely a breath away. He licked his lips in expectation. This was a good part, one that he relished.
Just as he leaned perhaps an inch farther forward, the hand released his head and settled to his chest, giving him a sharp shove backwards. Caught off guard, Rob fell. Although he twisted to the side and managed not to land squarely on his bound arms, it still hurt.
“What? Why?” He blurted the questions before he could restrain himself.
“The dragon is not pleased yet. You need more reminders.” Daniel caught him by the left arm, which was topmost, and jerked him upright. Then he rummaged, perhaps in a pocket. The next thing Rob knew, he felt the bite of metallic teeth on his nipples. That hurt, and not a good hurt. He sucked in a breath, then bit his lip against a startled yell.
This was new, painful and distressing. Moments later, he felt the slither of a cord on his skin. A fine little noose settled around his balls and cock, drew tight, and lifted.
Daniel passed the line over his left shoulder and tied the end to the binding at his wrists. He had to lift his arms as much as he could to ease the pressure.
He thought suddenly of something he had once read in a book. With most couples in these kinds of games, the sub had to have a safe word, a short syllable or two you could shout when the pain got too severe, when fear shot past arousal and you began to feel desperate. Daniel had never asked him for a safe word. Before this, he had never quite felt the need. Things had never reached the point he felt he couldn’t bear it.
This time he neared that brink. But no safe word…no way out.
Daniel’s hand settled on Rob’s head again, not quite as savagely this time. He directed Rob’s motion and brought his mouth directly to the waiting prick. Still not sure what to expect, Rob gave a tentative lick across the slit and scooped away the drop of pre-cum. He heard Daniel’s sharp intake of breath and then the harshly spoken words.
“Yes. Suck me.”
Trying to ignore the pain that still gnawed at the edges of his senses, Rob complied. He gave it his best effort. His tongue flicked around the groove beneath the head, feeling the tiny nerve buds harden under the touch. He widened his jaws as far as he could, relaxed his tongue and throat and plunged down the length as far as he could, then drew his lips firmly against the moisture-slick flesh, lubricated with saliva. He slowly drew back, keeping the suction steady and tight. Again, and a third time. After that Daniel took over and drove into Rob’s mouth, over and over again, harder, deeper each time until the final explosion came, flooding Rob’s mouth with thick, salty fluid.
He swallowed, knowing better than to try to pull away before the other man let him.
Would the dragon now be satisfied?
He hunched his shoulders, trying to shorten the length from his pinched genitals to his bound wrists and take the pressure off both places while he held his oral grip. At last Daniel pulled free and drew back, taking his hand off Rob’s head. Now he could slump a bit more. His feet were going to sleep but that discomfort was the least among those he endured. In the silence, broken only by Daniel’s panting breaths, he waited.
Finally Daniel caught one of Rob’s arms again and pulled him up. He could barely stand, feet gone totally numb, but he staggered and wobbled as Daniel urged him on, out of the parlor and down the hall, then right into a bedroom. A push sent him forward, and he fetched up with his shins against the foot of the bed, covered with a fuzzy chenille spread. He knew that room, that bed and that spread, well. It was his room, as much as any place in this house could be his. He thought he knew what came next.
Another push sent him sprawling face down onto the bed. The constricting cord tightened, and the weight of his body drove the nipple clips even harder into his flesh.
An involuntary gasp and half-whimper burst out before he could silence it.
Behind him, he sensed Daniel pause, hesitate. “Can you bear it no longer then?
Do you surrender your soul to the dragon?”
Rob, face half buried in the cover and the fluffy featherbed beneath it, could barely breathe, much less speak. He turned his head a few degrees. “I surrender.” He half gasped the words. They emerged in a squeaky whisper of sound.
“Very well.” Daniel untied the cord from his wrists and let it slip. Rob wriggled enough to give himself a bit of slack. Now the clips hurt more but at least the worst pain was eased.
“Get your arse up, then. You owe the dragon that much and more for his patience and lenience.” Rob shoved with his stinging feet to get his legs partly under him, lifting his hips from the bed and putting his ass high. This he could stand; he could almost enjoy it despite the punishing parts. Still, Daniel used no lube and gave Rob little time to prepare or adjust. He thrust into him at once. It was hard, fast, and rough.
With his arms still bound behind him, Rob couldn’t brace his body or do anything but give in to the fucking. He told himself he deserved to be treated harshly; it was done because he was unworthy and inferior. He should be grateful that such a man as Daniel would befriend and mentor and take care of him.
He almost believed it. Part of him actually did, but in a small hidden place inside, the little boy wept and longed for the gentle love he had enjoyed only briefly from his mother when he was very small. Is this warped parody all he would ever know again?
That little boy didn’t believe in Santa Claus, fairy godmothers, or even guardian angels. He knew no divine entity to ask but in a silent, barely-there prayer, a hardly formed wish, he asked for love, real love, just one time.
Chapter 2
Sean Davis didn’t know why the words caught his eye. Was he looking for something without quite realizing it? He certainly hadn’t known there was a coven in the area. After a traffic accident took his parents and younger sister from him several years ago, he hadn’t felt like observing the rituals he had grown up with. If the deities could be that cruel and capricious, why should he honor them?
His parents had always been very faithful in their observances, and he’d grown up immersed in the pagan practices they followed. He knew their spiritual path set him apart from many of his schoolmates and later the young adults he knew but he didn’t mind. He’d never considered moving away from those beliefs. Until the accident. Since then he had drifted, growing more cynical, more solitary and recently letting his new job become his life because he really had no other.
Not long after the final services for his family, he had joined the military, trained as a medic and gone to war. The horrors he saw tempered the pain of his personal loss once he recognized in a most graphic way no one was exempt from pain, loss and death. Still, he was left adrift without the faith he had known as a youth and no desire to seek a new one, especially not among the members of other religious paths.
Leaving the military, he had become a nurse and now gained some satisfaction from assisting in healing work but there was still a huge vacuum in his life. He dated a few times but found no one who seemed to be anything but shallow, self-seeking and out for temporary pleasure instead of a long-term partnership. Was he destined to be alone for the rest of his life? The bleak prospect loomed, casting a growing shadow over him.
The notice in the local paper, tucked in an obscure corner in the second section, should not have even caught his eye. Somehow, though, it did.
Local Wiccan coven opens its circle to new members. Are you seeking a closer bond with nature? A way to honor your ancestors or an alternative to restrictive, bigoted dogma that too often passes for faith and worship? Come join us at the Universal Unitarian social hall every Saturday from six to ten P.M. We will make you welcome while you decide if our fellowship meets your needs.
This was Friday evening. On the spur of the moment, he decided he’d go. He was off the next day and even as he went about his small personal chores, he felt a building excitement. Maybe it would be good to be among people who shared at least some of his background, who spoke and acted in ways familiar and once well-loved.
&nbs
p; Maybe he would even find some real friends among the group. Hope seemed an alien emotion but it felt good, all the same.
The next evening, Sean made sure he arrived early. Only a few people were there when he entered the room. One couple came over to greet him and then two guys who seemed to be alone as he was approached to introduce themselves. Good start so far.
Right after he met Mike and Sam, everyone turned toward the doorway. A tall man with iron gray hair down to his shoulders swept in, trailing a heavy purple cape.
Clearly used to attention and perhaps even servility, he nodded to everyone but didn’t smile.
“Hey, Daniel, good to see you.” That was Mike.
The man frowned slightly at the casual address. “Hello Michael. I see you decided to join us again.”
The female half of the couple smiled as she said, “Well met, Arch Mage. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better after missing our last gathering.”
At that point, Sean’s attention wandered as another man appeared, almost as if he had stepped out of Daniel’s shadow. Slender and fair, he held himself with a kind of diffidence as he carried in his arms a bundle of furnishings for the ceremonial part of their gathering. With exaggerated care, he approached the table that clearly served as the altar and juggled the armload as he tried to extract the cloth from around the bundle and spread it out.
Sean hurried over. “Here, let me help you. You’d need five hands to do this all by yourself. I’ve set up altars before, maybe a little differently than you do it here, but I can at least help hold things so nothing falls on the floor.”
The fair man looked up, a flare of gratitude in his pale blue eyes. “Oh, thank you.
That’s so very kind. It would be terrible to drop something.” His gaze cut quickly to the caped man but the Arch Mage seemed to be occupied, greeting other arrivals. “I—I’m sure it will be all right even if you are a visitor. Just so we do everything to Daniel’s exacting specifications…”
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