“Ah, there’s a beautiful sight.”
Michael’s breath hitched, but he kept his gaze trained on the carpeted floor. Javier laid his hand softly on Michael’s head.
“Very nicely done, boy. Now it’s time for your punishment.”
Michael exhaled on a long sigh. Too soon, Javier had removed his hand then made his way to the other side of the large suite out of Michael’s visual range. The creak of the door to the cabinet that held Javier’s implements of pain and pleasure caused Michael’s dick to throb and the ache in his balls to deepen. Michael knew what wondrous treasures the seemingly innocuous piece of furniture held.
“Crawl for me, Michael. Demonstrate to me that you’ve offered your complete submission, that you willingly give control of your body to me”—Javier took the slightest of pauses as he drew in air—“and to me alone. Hands and knees to the ottoman then drape yourself over it. Be quick.”
“Yes, Sir.” His voice was clear, definite. He did as Javier commanded, but the swing of his cock and the tightness of his sac slowed him. He winced. His need was so high that he feared he wouldn’t have the willpower to keep from spending before he’d received his Sir’s permission.
Michael shrieked, pitching forward the instant the switch hit his ass. The whoosh then sharp crack of the thin, flexible whip had barely registered before a fiery sting was left in its wake.
“Pick yourself up, boy.”
The whip snapped again, catching him on his upper thighs and causing another searing pain, this one with more burn to it. He scurried to his hands and knees, his ass more available for Javier’s onslaught. The next stripe landed between the first two, a portion of the impact vibrating to his hole. He gritted his teeth, hissing as tears squeezed from his eyes, yet his shaft remained rigid and his balls tightened again. The sharp strikes had only hardened him more.
“Don’t keep me waiting, move faster. You’ll only increase the stripes I lay on your body.”
Please. I want it. I want to see you imprinted on my flesh even when I’m not with you.
His face heated with shame. He was being punished for questioning Javier’s judgment when Javier had taught him everything. He shouldn’t be thinking of it as a treat. I’m here to please him. Make him happy.
Michael cried out as the branch snapped on his skin. He grasped for the edge of the leather ottoman then launched himself forward, ignoring the burn on his bare knees from the wool carpet. After positioning himself the way he knew Javier preferred—his head resting on his folded arms, but his ass pushed up high—he stilled. It wasn’t appropriate for him to wish for praise, yet whenever Javier gave it, he treasured the sentiment more than even his physical release with the dominant man.
“Good boy.”
His heart stuttered. He wouldn’t ruin the moment by losing his focus.
“Do you know why you’re being punished, Michael Eamonn Carlisle?”
“Yes, Sir. I do.” Michael was careful not to add to the answer. Javier had only asked him one thing. He’d learned the hard way that elaborating wasn’t how a good boy displayed true submission.
“Nicely done. And why is it that you’re being corrected?”
“Because I questioned your judgment, Sir.”
Michael hissed at the unexpected touch of Javier’s hand on the welts that he was sure had risen on his skin. The heat was like a furnace between his body and Javier’s palm. Javier rubbed slow circles across the fleshy part of Michael’s backside, his fingertips ghosting along Michael’s crack. Surely, he wouldn’t be allowed the pleasure of being filled after behaving as if he knew better than Javier? The touches disappeared and Michael awaited his fate.
“Count with me, boy. Five more then you get a reward.”
Michael worked hard to control his expression. He needed to remain accepting, compliant. No matter how surprised he was at Javier’s words, he couldn’t show it.
“One!” he yelled it out, the word ejected from him from the force of Javier’s first strike. The subsequent smack was harder than the first. “Two!” Michael took deep breaths, the sweat on his brow building, his body shivering as if he was freezing, yet he couldn’t imagine how that could be possible. “Three…oh God.”
“You get another for added words. Counting only.”
Javier’s voice had been monotone, had held no anger. However, disappointment in himself still filled Michael.
“Four!” He screwed his eyes shut against the pain, as if it would somehow be made more bearable because he couldn’t see anything. “Five!” One more. Take it for him. For Javier. “Six!” He’d grunted it out, his breath coming in fast pants, the sweat now dripping down his face in sluggish rivulets. He started at the sensation of Javier’s hand as it touched his shoulder.
“Shh, you’re all right. You’re safe here with me. You did a wonderful job, boy. I’m very proud of you.”
His lip trembled, tears building in his eyes. Proud? Javier is proud?
Javier stroked the top of his head, making shushing noises. It was then that Michael realized to his horror that the tears had fallen and were streaming down his face.
“Does my good boy want my cock for his reward?”
Oh God. He licked his lips, his words hitching as he struggled to regain his composure. “Yes, Sir.” He’d barely breathed it out. “May I please have your cock?”
Javier’s touch disappeared then Javier himself appeared in his line of vision, stopping right in front of him. “Lift your head and prop yourself up on your elbows. Let me see your eyes.”
Michael did as he was told, a sharp thrill coursing through him as their gazes met. Javier wore only his white silk robe, the thin, shiny fabric a striking contrast against his warm, brown skin. Javier cupped Michael’s chin, stroking it with his thumb. The moment lingered to the point where Michael thought he might see Javier smile, then it passed.
Javier let go then pulled the end of the sash around his robe. The tie fell away, the garment opening to reveal Javier’s impressive erect cock nestled in an abundance of black curls. His balls hung low and heavy. Javier gripped his shaft, presenting it to Michael so that the scarlet tip, beaded with pre-cum, was a mere two inches from Michael’s lips. A whimper tumbled out of his mouth before he could prevent it.
“Not until I give you permission, boy.”
Please.
Chapter Two
Javier gazed down at Michael, in love with him more than ever. A flush bloomed under the skin of Michael’s tear-streaked face, his pale green eyes wide and adoring. Javier knew that Michael probably loved him too, but he couldn’t allow them to deepen the relationship any more than they already had. As it was, Javier had crossed an unspoken line by allowing himself to become involved with a man who worked under him.
Saul would be greatly disappointed. Likely fire us both if he should discover what I’ve done.
Seeking out Michael had been very unprofessional of him. The owner of the Hampton Road Club had always stressed to Javier that in his capacity as head of staff, Javier needed to remain professional in order to manage everyone effectively. But Javier had recognized the ache in Michael’s eyes, the need in the way he held his body with so much tension. From the moment he’d spied the dark-haired, pale-skinned young man, Javier had been lost to him.
I can’t take the risk that Michael would pay because of my selfish desires.
Even if Javier was forced out, it would be nothing compared to the anguish he’d experience if Michael were to be let go. After Michael had shared the story of his life and all that he’d endured, Javier’s only wish from that moment forward had been to keep him safe and protected. He never wanted Michael to be without a nice roof over his head or decent food to eat. Javier would make certain that Michael never suffered from being cast aside again.
This has to be the last time. I’ve let this go on for much too long.
He would seek out Saul’s advice as to who he might recommend to help Michael with his ingrained need to submit to a domin
ant man. His gut clenched at the thought of another man’s touch on his boy, but he had to think of what was best for Michael’s future.
“Such a patient, submissive boy.” He swallowed down the emotion building in his throat. “You’d make any Master happy.”
Michael’s brow furrowed. “Thank you, Sir, you’re so kind to me. Forgive my impudence, but you’re the only Master I wish to make happy.”
“Quiet!” He hated himself for pushing Michael away, but he had no choice. “Did I give you permission to speak, boy?”
“N-no, Sir. You didn’t.”
“Then perhaps you need something to keep your mouth busy.”
Javier presented his softening cock to Michael, rubbed the beads of early spend across Michael’s full bottom lip that he’d already leaked when hard. He blocked the thoughts of losing Michael and focused his attention on where it needed to be at that moment. His boy.
As he swiped the spongy head of his dick around Michael’s mouth, his length filled again, hardening completely. Nothing was more beautiful than Michael’s lips wrapped around Javier’s steeled flesh.
“Take it, boy.” Javier surged his hips forward, sliding into the wet, heated cavern of Michael’s mouth, his balls aching so good from the rasp of his boy’s tongue on the underside of his shaft right before it teased his glans. He fisted a handful of Michael’s hair again, held him fast as he fucked Michael’s face. He’d trained Michael to swallow and suck and he was damn good at it.
“That’s it. Take it all the way in. Show me how much you love my cock going down your throat.”
Javier picked up the pace of his fucking, Michael opening up to him with each thrust. Michael worked harder to take in air through his nose, but he didn’t choke. He didn’t grab Javier or hold on to keep his balance. He just accepted Javier’s dick as it was shoved past Michael’s gag reflex.
Javier’s climax ripped through him and he froze, grabbing Michael’s head between his hands and holding him still as he pumped his seed down Michael’s throat. As he softened, he let his sated member fall from Michael’s lips, allowed him to lap up the remaining cum that dribbled out of his slit.
Gazing down at Michael, Javier drank in the sight of the beautiful young man as he nuzzled his crotch. The evidence of tears remained, but Michael’s expression contained nothing but joy as he rubbed his face into Javier’s groin and against his limp shaft. Before he’d realized he’d been doing it, he found himself stroking Michael’s head, carding his fingers through his lush hair. His stomach sank at his own weakness. How could he let Michael go?
* * * *
Javier knocked on the door to Saul’s study. He hated bothering him, particularly for his own selfish desires, because the older man worked so very hard. Javier’s job was to make his boss’ life easier, not more complicated.
“Come in!”
As he opened the door then peeked inside, he noted that Saul was seated at his desk, bent over a pile of papers, an almost empty snifter next to him. The club owner peered over his reading glasses at one of the items, but didn’t lift his head to acknowledge Javier’s presence. Javier waited patiently until Saul was finished. With a sigh, Saul removed his glasses, tossed them on the pile of papers then leaned back in his chair.
“What can I do for you this evening, Javier? Is it about the preparations for the annual orgy next week?”
Javier coughed into his fist. It was his least favorite event to plan and execute, but it was one of the most popular nights of the year for the members, so he did his best to create a splendid atmosphere for their distinguished guests. However, more than once their bouncers, Bruce and George, had needed to break up a fight when jealousy had reared its ugly head. Javier did not approve of the lack of control among so many purportedly respectable dominants and gentlemen. He secretly believed that Saul felt the same way.
“No, sir. Not at all. I actually wish to discuss…” He cleared his throat, uncertainty filling him. “I’d like to discuss Michael.”
Saul arched his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Yes, sir. If I won’t be taking up too much of your time, that is.”
Saul regarded him with puzzlement, a frown marring his brow. Javier could only imagine what his boss must be thinking. He was a bit startled by his hesitant tone himself.
“Please.” Saul indicated to the wing chair right behind him as he angled his body to face Javier. “Sit down.”
Javier ducked his head before taking a seat, his stomach clenching and heart thudding with a sickening beat at what he was about to do. “Thank you, sir.” He lifted his eyes and was met with Saul’s concerned expression.
“Is Michael all right? Because I had the impression that…well, that he was quite content under your…direction.” Saul offered him a tight smile.
He can’t know. Can he?
“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, sir. He’s doing a magnificent job, he was born to cater to people’s needs, his desire is only to please and he always makes sure to keep track of small details in regards to the members, makes sure they always feel at home.”
“Yet, you have some concerns regarding his welfare.”
Javier held in a sigh, his own frustration threatening to make itself known. “You see, because he responds so beautifully when given direction and goes out of his way to do more than what’s required of him in an effort to please, I was thinking…” Javier had no spit left in his mouth, could barely swallow as he took a pause. “I was thinking that he would flourish under the strict hand of a reputable Master.”
A slight curl tugged at the corner of Saul’s mouth, his demeanor immediately lightening. “I see. And who do you suppose might be a good choice to take on the responsibility of our dear Michael?”
Javier stared at Saul as his brain tried to comprehend what Saul meant. After all, he’d come to Saul for help in determining that very thing.
“Well, sir, that was actually why I came to see you. There isn’t anyone I’ve observed here who I feel would be worthy—” His face flushed hot. The last thing he’d intended to do was insult any of Saul’s friends or club members. “What I mean is that there hasn’t been anyone who seemed to be a proper fit for him.”
He gripped the chair arms, his fingers digging in as he attempted to maintain control. Instead of responding, Saul merely stared at him. Javier couldn’t interpret what might be going through Saul’s mind, his expression impassive as he seemed to study him. Javier couldn’t stand it any longer. “Sir?”
“Hmm. Yes. I’ll have to give this very careful consideration. But let me ask you a few questions first.” Saul rose and shuffled over to the humidor positioned on a side table next to the bar cart that held his decanter of brandy. “Do you mind if I ready a cigar for myself?”
“Of course not, sir. I appreciate you taking the time to help in this matter.”
“Why, of course, Javier. I wouldn’t dream of leaving any of my staff in a state of distress.” Saul cut the cigar, flicking the loose bits of tobacco into the crystal ash tray. “It’s very important that everyone has their, shall we say, inherent urges met.” Saul lit the cigar with a large crystal lighter that matched the tray, then took a strong pull until the end glowed brightly. Saul considered him. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Absolutely, sir. Couldn’t agree more.”
“Excellent. Then let’s have a chat about dear Michael.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m very grateful for your thoughts as to how to proceed.”
Javier realized he sounded a bit too giddy, but he was so relieved that Saul was anxious to help. If the older dominant man could find someone for Michael, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much to let him go. It would still be its own agony, but it wouldn’t be the same as him being the one to give away the man he loved.
“Would you like something to drink while we discuss Michael’s future?”
He would’ve loved a brandy under the circumstances, but he wasn’t allowed to imbibe—nor would he—while on duty. T
he members would be arriving soon, so it was imperative that he remain sharp. Saul seemed to sense what was behind his hesitation.
“I have a pitcher of water as well as some bottled seltzer that our very own Michael brought up earlier.”
His chest tightened at Saul’s words. Michael isn’t mine and he never will be. “I can get that, sir.” He was aghast at the ways his fingers trembled as he went to push himself up from the chair.
Saul extended his hand, palm out in a stopping motion. “No, no, no. Stay where you are. I’ll get it for you.” Saul set the cigar in the crystal dish. “Plain or seltzer?”
It was so odd to have Saul waiting on him that he could barely push his words out. “Uh, plain would be fine, sir. Thank you.”
Once Saul had handed him the glass and had settled himself in the wing chair opposite from Javier, he realized that it would be too obvious how shaky he was if he took a sip of his drink. He held it with both hands instead, his fingers curled around it securely, determined to remain calm and not give Saul any reason to worry about him as well as Michael.
“Let me see.” Saul crossed one leg, taking another puff of his stogie then blowing out a few smoke rings. “You say Michael enjoys a firm hand?”
Javier almost choked. He’d picked the wrong moment to hazard a drink. I can’t let Saul suspect how well-acquainted I am with Michael’s specific needs.
“I suspect he would, yes.” Javier swallowed hard. “Because of how well he responds when given a strict set of orders.”
“Mmm. I see. And obviously, you are the one who gives him these orders?”
“Well, yes, I mean, after all…” Javier set the glass on the petite round table next to him with one hand and attempted to loosen his collar with the other. He didn’t think he could be trusted any longer with glass objects and he could barely breathe. “I am the head of staff, his boss. So, yes. I give him the orders.” He stopped himself from swiping the back of his hand across his upper lip. The damn sweat would just have to stay there.
A Master For Michael Page 2