by Z. Allora
Cutter whimpered, but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t want you hurting yourself. Will you turn over control of your pain to me?”
Cutter turned as he groaned. “Yes, I want that.” He exhaled and looked at his other two mates. “I’m sorry.”
Uli opened his mouth to say something, but Storm kissed him quiet.
“Undress, Cut. My anger and frustration have subsided. First, you’ll get your pain, but I’ll take you past your misery to a place where you can be free of it for a little while. Somewhere you can objectively put everything in perspective.”
“Yes, Sir.” With trembling hands, Cutter took off everything, folded each piece of clothing with precision, and set them on the chair.
“Very nice, Cutter.” Alex opened the cabinet which contained instruments of both pleasure and pain. He placed the razor in the red sharps disposal that sat alone on the bottom shelf.
“Thank you, Sir.” Cutter beamed with the praise.
“Over to the bench.” Alex directed him to a padded bench with a hole cut out.
“Alex?” Cutter asked as he pointed to the flat surface.
“Put your shaft through the opening.” Alex had gotten more comfortable using non-clinical words to describe male parts, but he still had to work on his terminology. This was not the time to practice or to be unsure. He guided Cutter over the bench so he straddled the leather. Cutter lay forward, pushed his cock through the hole, and straightened his legs.
Alex checked on his other mates. Uli and Storm were off to the side, watching the proceedings while holding each other’s hands.
“This will be sensation play meant to cause you pain. Not like the birthday spanking.” The event seemed so long ago, but barely a day had passed. “You’ll get far more than twenty-one smacks.”
“Yes, Sir.” Cutter relaxed the more he surrendered.
Alex meandered over to the cabinet. He ran his fingers over each implement in turn. The strength of all the others who’d used this room clung to the objects of pleasure/pain. After careful consideration, he chose a simple riding crop with a two-foot rod and a firm leather rectangle at the tip.
He strutted back over to the bench, allowing his training, study, and hard work to give him the confidence to begin replacing Cutter’s dependence on cutting with other coping mechanisms through therapy and support. Then they’d be free to explore BDSM without his self-injurious habit warping the experience into something less than positive.
Alex slapped the crop against his own leg, making Uli jump and Storm wince. Ah, but they’d learn.
“Your safeword is red,” Alex stated. “Tell me what your safeword is.”
“Red.”
“You’ll use that word if you want everything to stop. Ready, Cut?” Alex asked.
Cutter trembled. “Yes, Sir.”
Alex answered Cutter’s agreement with the first slap of leather.
“No!” Uli yelled, as if he were being struck.
Putting a hand on Cutter’s back, Alex counted to five. “I’m sorry for the disruption, Cutter.”
He strode over to where Uli was being held back by a resolute Storm. “Uli, honey.”
Ulrich whimpered and tears gathered in his eyes.
Alex stroked Uli’s soft cheek. “I must do this. Cut is desperate for me to tend to him. He wants a break from the monsters in his head. Let me give him that.”
Ulrich frowned.
Alex stated, “I need you to allow me to continue.”
Though Ulrich’s teeth were clenched, he gave a slight nod.
Alex regarded Storm for a moment, then directed him, “Storm, please distract Uli pleasantly so I may focus on Cut.”
He hurried back to Cutter and rested a hand on his shoulder.
Cut sighed and relaxed as Alex traced the reddening rectangle on his butt. Many more would be placed before they finished.
Uli groaned. Apparently, Storm was distracting him properly.
“We’ll begin again.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
“Yes, Alex.” The mumbled words wrapped in a moan were barely audible.
Alex raised the crop and brought the leather rectangle down again. Cutter hissed, but thrust his ass back.
At a distance, Alex heard buckles being unlatched and clothing hitting the floor. A pocketful of change jiggled and then pinged out to roll across the room. Moans, kisses, and grunts were all far away from Alex.
He concentrated on his bucking submissive and aimed to catch the unmarked flesh at the precise moment. His goal was to redden Cutter’s entire backside and then give him deep cuts of the crop.
Alex drank in Cutter’s response to the crop, to the rhythm, and to the Zen of lashing someone to the point of rapture.
Cut’s erection stretched well past the opening in the bench, and he thrust with every strike.
Alex couldn’t have that… yet. He rested the crop on Cutter’s back, trailed the leather to his shoulders, and stepped around until he was positioned next to Cutter’s head.
Cutter peeked up, eyes glazed and lips parted in blatant invitation.
Anyone would have trouble not responding to such an overture. Alex ran a finger over Cutter’s lips and he parted his lips instantly to suck his digit inside. Cutter’s mouth was hot, wet, and the suction absolutely superb. Alex’s erection pressed into his zipper, but he ignored his own desire in favor of tending to his sweet sub.
They were far from done. Cutter was still able to focus.
Cutter required a resting spot in his mind. The pain Alex provided would make one available. A BDSM scene couldn’t cure him, but it offered him a way to stop the noise of doubt, pressure, and stress that seemed to plague him, so he could access his own strength to battle the demons.
Alex used the rod of the crop to slash fire across Cutter’s flesh.
Cutter bucked and moaned.
As the lines of welts developed, memories of Alex’s abuse tried to eat into his brain. He forced himself not to falter and continued to paint streaks of red across Cutter’s ass. Instead of his mother’s voice calling him dirty and disgusting, Lafayette encouraged him to give Cut what was required. Alex had a new guide.
Cutter relaxed. When his expression morphed into a euphoric daze, Alex was reassured that what he did had beneficial, not harmful effects.
“Good, Cut. You’re doing well.” Alex kept his sigh of relief to himself. He lightened the strokes and alternated them between the leather tongue and the rod.
Cutter didn’t seem to notice. He lay still, absorbing the pain. His moans transformed into noises of tearful joy.
“Look at Storm and Uli.” Alex’s voice cracked. “Those are your mates.”
Storm leaned against the wall, his jeans carelessly around his ankles; he guided Ulrich’s head up and down on him.
Cutter moaned.
Opening his eyes, Storm locked his gaze onto Cutter and Alex. He thrust into Uli’s mouth with more urgency.
“I’m your mate. Storm and Uli are yours. You’re not alone.” Alex snapped the leather against Cutter’s skin. “Trust us to give you a place to rest.”
Cut tried to speak, but his words were lost on a grumbled groan.
“What do you want, Cutler?” Alex asked, emphasizing his full name, and lashed him again.
Cutter’s answer was to arch his back and wiggle his ass. He squirmed, fucked the opening in the table that would never give him the relief he craved, and gave Alex a dreamy but heated stare that begged for gratification.
“You want satisfaction?” The words were accompanied by a particularly cutting strike.
Silence.
When no answer came, Alex swung again. “Do you?”
Cutter squirmed. “Yessssss. Please, Alex.”
Alex kneeled, reached under the table, and wrapped his hand around Cutter’s rampant erection. He stroked and delivered another slash of the crop. “I’m going to tell you when I want your release. Be ready.”
No words, just a gru
nt of agreement. Cutter arched his back, tipping his ass into the perfect position.
Another slash of the crop’s pole across his ass and a firm tug made Cutter moan.
Whack! Stroke. Whack! Stroke.
Alex gave him crisp, fast strikes, wanting to send Cutter into the stratosphere. His sweet man cast a pleading look over his shoulder at Alex.
It didn’t take a genius to see Cutter riding the edge of ecstasy, and it was Alex’s complete control whether to make him wait or push him over the edge.
From a distance, Alex heard Storm grunting out his climax, followed by Ulrich’s cry of completion; physical confirmation of their mated status.
Cutter writhed and thrust back. He seemed to require the fire of a cutting lash before thrusting forward into Alex’s fist.
“Come.” Alex gave him a particularly harsh slash of the crop’s pole across both cheeks. “Give your orgasm to me.”
Cutter froze, then frantically thrust into Alex’s fist. He screamed with his release as he rode Alex’s firm grip to satisfaction.
Alex continued to tap Cut’s butt with the leather rectangle and stroked him through his release.
When Cutter finished, his essence added to the near irresistible scent surrounding Alex. He should restrain himself from licking the come from his fist. The doctor had been vague about what might happen if not all mates accepted each other. But Uli had already swallowed for Cutter and Storm, so Ulrich’s fate hung in the balance of their acceptance, as did Alex’s. He stared at the cream rolling down his fist.
“Thank you, Alex. Thank you,” Cutter mumbled, then dropped off to sleep.
“I got him.” Storm appeared and carried Cutter across the room to the large padded platform.
Alex wanted to stop him. He should provide aftercare, but Storm would protect their somewhat soul-damaged mate.
Storm tucked Cutter in with care and surrounded him with his body like he was warding off all the demons of hell for him.
So enthralled by the care Storm gave to Cutter, Alex hadn’t noticed Uli at his feet.
Without a word, Uli unzipped Alex and sucked him to the base. Alex inhaled and slowly licked his fist. The burst of favor sent him right into an orgasm.
Ulrich swallowed.
When his shivers of completion ended, he helped Uli off his knees and kissed him, picking out the traces of Storm’s unique taste. He should say something, but it was all he could do to stumble after Uli to the pile of men whom he desperately hoped would accept the mate bond.
16
Co-dependency is a Lifestyle Choice
Tonight was the one-month anniversary of Alex and Uli confessing to being zombies. Thirty days of waiting and wondering. Alex didn’t want to push Storm and Cutter, so he and Uli focused on having fun when their mates came to the club. When Storm could escape his family, they hung out all day, but other times it was only a couple of hours in the evening.
Storm and Cutter both eagerly shared their essence. At times, they seemed compelled to do so, but neither had committed to the blood exchange. Taking the final step to become a zombie, for someone who wasn’t born that way, wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly. This was forever.
“What if we never see them again?” Uli obsessed for the hundredth time in the past hour. He paced back from checking the hallway for Storm and Cutter.
Alex shared the terror when he contemplated rejection by their mates. But he didn’t give voice to the yearning that demanded he secure them by any means necessary. Regardless of his secondary change, he’d never force the issue. Storm and Cut had to accept the bond of their free will.
“They had car trouble. They’ll be here.” Alex rubbed Uli’s shoulders. Storm and Cutter had never been late, and car trouble didn’t quite ring true. He glanced around room 28. Over the past few weeks, they had decorated it with pillows and blankets. Fresh roses were in the vase on the table for Cutter, and they’d made sure to stockpile Storm’s favorite root beer.
“I don’t see why they didn’t want us to come rescue them.” Uli rolled his head back, letting out a soft groan as his tense muscles loosened.
“Shhh, they have a car service to deal with the problem.” The slow massage finally calmed Alex’s whirling lover. Changing the subject to something positive, he reminded Uli, “Cut is doing much better with the therapist he’s seeing now.”
“Yeah, he said she’s helping him find new coping mechanisms that actually work for him. He’s finally dealing with the loss of his mom.”
“I’m glad.” He, Uli, and Storm also went for several sessions to discuss their own issues and learn how to support Cutter.
Uli smiled at Alex. “He adores you, you know that, right? He’d accept us for no other reason than you. He wants to be collared by you.”
True. Alex sensed no jealousy in Uli’s statement but wanted to remind him of the affection Cutter had for him. “And you know, Cut’s in love with you and has been since he met you.”
Cutter still seemed baffled by his need for all of them, though his confusion hadn’t stopped him from exploring various sexual acts. He hadn’t been at all perplexed during last night’s antics involving what Storm called a suck circle.
Uli crossed his arms. “I don’t understand why Storm is hesitant. I want them now! I don’t get what is delaying them.”
“It’s a big decision. To become a zombie is leaving everything he knows, everyone he knows… his brother, Erick.”
“Yeah, but he’d get us.” Uli was in many ways younger than his nineteen years.
Alex pulled Uli into his arms. “He’ll come around.” He prayed to any God that would listen for Storm to choose them, for all of their sakes. Or he’d be dooming all of them to an existence of never quite being fulfilled, of always being part empty. Without all of them together and mated, life would be a living hell.
“I guess I can be patient. At least we know who our mates are. Poor Corey and Jackson have no clue, and they’ve been waiting for decades, so I’ll shut up.” Ulrich melted into Alex’s embrace.
Storm inhaled the scent of the pine and excitement. He kissed Cutter’s cheek, and then asked, “Are you sure?”
Studying his beautiful black Camry tipped over on its now-smashed-in roof hurt just a little. Shit, he’d worked like a demon and saved his money to get that car. He wanted to have something his father couldn’t take away from him. Hugging Cutter tighter reminded him the car’s destruction was a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.
“I’m very sure. How about you? What about your brother?” Cutter asked him.
His parents would probably view his death as a relief. They wouldn’t be burdened with all the potential scandals their eldest might stir up. His younger brother, Erick, had been the only reason Storm hesitated.
Guilt about leaving his brother ate at him, but there wasn’t a choice. Erick followed the McGrath party line and every bizarre rule his father conjured up. The kid would probably be better off without Storm.
“Erick will be fine. Besides, Lafayette and Beau promised to watch out for him.” They had hinted Storm could visit him, though he shouldn’t visit anyone else. He didn’t want to contemplate what that meant.
He stood with Cut, watching the lit match tumble into the line of gas leading to the saturated car. The fire roared to life as Storm pulled Cutter into the trees that would cover them when the car burst into flames.
The sequence of events happened much quicker than Storm had anticipated. He hurried to make the anonymous 911 calls with the cheap prepaid phone, and then tossed all of their phones into the fire.
Cut giggled when the phones exploded. “Hey, the article on explosions was right. Nothing flew out.”
Viewing his car flame out of existence, and his entire life with it, made Storm ponder. Were they doing the right thing?
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Cut handed Storm a brand-new phone.
Overanalyzing and worrying were two things Storm never found useful, but in this cas
e, he couldn’t help but ask, “Do you think Uli and Alex actually want us, or is it just ’cause we’re their mates?”
Cut chuckled while he stared at the flaming wreck. “I sure the fuck hope they want us.”
So did Storm. They were watching their old lives burn.
“But I still don’t get why we couldn’t tell them the doctor organized this to happen.” Cut frowned at him.
“Dr. M said the fewer people who knew about this, the better.” The zombie network was impressive, if a little scary. The doctor had arranged for a zombie in the coroner’s office to identify animal bones as Cutter and Storm. It was good to have people in power on your side.
“But why not tell Alex and Uli?” Cutter protruded his lower lip into a pout.
Damn. Storm didn’t know how to respond, so he kissed the hell out of him. “You know I love you, right?”
Maybe not the best time to play True Confessions, but what the fuck.
Rolling his eyes, Cut cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know… as in, friends.”
Argh! How had he fooled the person who knew him the best? Had he been that good of an actor? “As in, I love you like a man loves another man.”
Cut’s expression hadn’t changed from the original gape, though he tilted his head.
Storm pressed forward. “As in, you’re mine. I love you.”
Avoiding eye contact, Cut shrugged, trying to convince everyone nothing mattered to him. “Yeah, well, we’ll be mates, so you kind of have to love me.”
Storm only had himself to blame, but it was frustrating as fuck! “For the record, I’ve always loved you.”
Sirens rang out in the distance.
Cut’s smile brightened his face. “Your timing sucks. But I love you too, you asshole.”
“I’m not an asshole. I just play one for the audience.” Storm gestured to the trees in front of them.
Cut snorted. “Yeah, but do you have to be so good at it?”
Smirking, Storm ignored Cut’s smart-ass jab. “Come on, we have zombies to mate.”