The fabrics were solid colors in a variety of tans and navy, and while the furniture pieces had some ornate carvings, the lines weren’t all curvy. The sofas and chairs were comfortable and stylish, and the colors blended into the kitchen area, with the bar separating the spaces. The placement was cozy while the overall look was high fashion, but I wasn’t sure what made it seem like something out of a magazine instead of a normal living room.
“I like it. I’ll be looking for a place soon. I have some things in storage in Memphis, but I sold most of the large items and wouldn’t mind some help when I go shopping.”
When Micca left, Matty apologized for her outspokenness.
“Don’t apologize for your friend, boy. She’s looking out for you and had the best of intentions. Is she at all kinky?”
He shook his head. “She learned about it because she worries about me. I was really too young when I started, but I knew what I wanted.”
“What did you want?”
“A daddy.”
His gaze met mine and I saw the longing. The need.
“How many men have you called daddy?”
He shook his head. “Just my first, who was only with me a few months. Once I wasn’t a virgin kid anymore, he was finished with me. Master Steve didn’t want to be called Daddy. No one else has deserved the title.” He took a breath. “Why do they call you Razor?”
I pulled my knife from my pants and flipped it open. “It’s a straight razor worked into a knife handle. I made it so I can change the razor out as needed, and I keep it sharp enough for surgery.” I didn’t tell him I’d got the name as a prospect when I shaved the skin off a man who’d turned on us and was going to testify against the club in court. I took his face down to muscle in places, cut his lips off, and split his tongue in two, front to back. I’d been given my cut the next night.
A quick flick of my wrist and it closed. His eyes watched me slide it into my pocket, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. I couldn’t tell him everything about me, but I wasn’t going to sugarcoat who I am, either.
“Stainless steel handle,” he noted. “How many times has it been soaked in bleach?”
“Ask what you really want to know, boy.”
“Have you killed anyone with it?”
“No.”
“You’ve hurt people though.”
“I hurt the men who messed with you, but not with my razor. One has a broken arm and they both have a concussion. Neither are blaming the RTMC.”
“Then how do you know?”
“They’d used a card to start a tab. Not hard to check on them once we have a name and address. I was too rough with them, and I warned our resident geek and our attorney, so they could make sure it didn’t blow back on the club.”
And yeah, it was more than I should tell him before Brain vetted him, but if he was LEO he’d know most of this already. I was pretty sure he wasn’t, though. It’s possible he was being forced to work for them, with the threat of jail if he didn’t, but I couldn’t imagine he’d have done something bad enough for them to coerce him into that kind of thing.
I waited until we were eating, and I praised his cooking skills before I brought up negotiations.
“You tell me how you want to get started. We can keep it informal for a few dates and see if we want to take it to the next level, or I can email you something to print, and we can go over it and make notes of any changes, and sign it for a two-week trial period.”
“I believe I’d prefer the contract, Sir. I feel better when I know in black and white what’s expected of me.”
“My boilerplate contract has the basics. No sitting on furniture when I’m present without an invitation to do so. You’re always welcome on the floor by my feet, and I’d prefer you lean against my legs. Clean yourself out before any scheduled time with me. Keep yourself lubed. No orgasms without permission for the entire two weeks, not just when we’re together. You’ll have your phone with you at all times so I can reach you, though I understand you’ll have to reply between classes, or when you aren’t busy at work.”
“Honorifics?”
“Sir for now, and with every statement or question when we’re in formal mode, but only when you deem it necessary when we aren’t. If you should’ve said it and didn’t when we’re relaxed, I’ll let you know, for now. Eventually there’ll be consequences, but not until you understand my expectations.”
“Rituals, Sir?”
“We’ll figure those out as I get to know you. Where do you work out?”
“Mostly at the climbing gym, but I go to the Y a few days a week to lift. Micca and I take a Pilates class together Thursday morning early, before classes.”
If things worked out with the boy and I bought a house and moved him in with me, I’d need to consider building a mother-in-law apartment for her.
“Okay. I’ll go with you to the climbing gym once, and the Y once. I’ll get an idea of your normal routine so I can craft a workout I’ll oversee once a week. You’ll also learn self-defense and fighting skills from me. Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
“Yes, Sir. I have a concealed carry license. So does Micca.”
“You’ll come to the range and show me. Micca’s welcome as well. I’ll get you both passes, and I expect you in there at least once a month while we’re an item. I’d like Micca in there as often, but I can’t make her practice.”
He met my gaze. “Consequences, Sir?”
I instinctively knew that if I didn’t give this boy what he needed, he’d brat to get it. Punishments for him were going to have to make him miserable, or I’d end up with a problem child on my hands. “Whatever I feel fits. We’ll agree to hard limits. You’ll have a safeword during our trial, but it’ll go away for punishments if we agree to extend the contract — but you should trust me enough by then to know how to hurt you without harming you.” What kind of punishment would work for Matty? Writing essays? Orgasm denial? Exercise? Only time would tell.
I took a drink of wine and observed him. He wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure if he should.
“You asked about rituals. What do you crave?”
“Taking your boots off. Washing you. Trimming your nails. Welcoming you through the door with a beer, and a blowjob or my ass if you want it. Having to lube myself when you text me you’re on your way, so I’ll be ready for you, not knowing if you’ll want me or not. Weekly maintenance spankings, the kind designed to keep me from needing an actual punishment — more pain than a fun one, but without the disappointment and angst of a true punishment.” He shrugged. “I was required to wear my wrist and ankles cuffs at home when Steve wasn’t deployed. I walked in the door and put them on, and didn’t take them off unless I showered, washed dishes, or was about to leave the house. I miss it.”
“This apartment building is well constructed, but I won’t be able to properly spank you or discipline you here. I’ll be looking for a house soon, but until I have one, I’ll rent a cabin in the woods when we want to play hard.”
I don’t need as much food as the wolves, but I eat a good bit more than a human my size, so I’d had a steak before I came. I stopped at two large pieces of his most excellent lasagna, and sat back to look him over again. I couldn’t see his dick, but all the signs of arousal were in his eyes and face.
“Do we print the contract and go over it now, or do we fool around tonight and handle it tomorrow evening?”
“Now please, Sir.”
I reached for my phone and emailed it to him. “I assume you have a printer here. I just sent the pdf to you.”
While he was in the back of the apartment, I found a lid for the lasagna pan and put it in the refrigerator. I placed the silicon stopper in the wine and settled the dirty dishes in the sink. I wasn’t sure what to do with the fancy placemats, so I moved them to the bar before I wiped the table.
“Oh.” He stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded the corner. “I’m supposed to take care of cleanup, Sir.”
&n
bsp; “I handled it, in the interest of time. Grab a blue pen — or any color besides black — so our changes will be obvious.”
I rolled my eyes at the pen with purple ink, but didn’t comment.
He was supposed to list his hard limits on a separate sheet of paper to be attached to the contract, but he only came up with a few of the ones Micca had specified, plus scat play, and a note I must wear a condom. I told him to come up with five more or I wouldn’t sign the contract, and he wrote no corporal punishment to his hands or fingers, no total sensory deprivation, no mindfucks designed to hurt him emotionally, no photos or videos of him in any compromising position, no gun play, and no cutting his hair. I’d demanded five and he gave me six.
“Any more?”
“No, Sir. The straight razor turned me on and terrified me. Knives will come off the list eventually, but not yet. Micca would kill me if I didn’t list it to start.”
I chuckled. “I like your friend, and she’s right. There’s no reason for you to trust me enough to use a knife on you yet. Define total sensory dep for me, please?” I’ve had boys think it just meant headphones and a blindfold, so I always made sure.
“Bound, gagged, earplugs, and a full-face hood so I can’t see or smell anything through the hood. I need to be able to either see or hear, for now. I kind of lose it when it’s everything at once.”
“I’m disappointed you didn’t list that up front.”
“I don’t like calling the shots, Sir.”
“There’s a difference in calling the shots and informing your Master of things he might do that take you to a bad place.”
“You’re right, Sir. It still seems wrong for me to be able to make demands.”
We went over the rules one by one and discussed them. His body language practically screamed his need for me to demand a daily ritual, so I wrote in that he’d masturbate in the shower, every time, but just take himself to the edge and stop.
“Why is this a rule?” I asked.
“To help me remember I’m your boy even when you aren’t here. Thank you, Sir.”
I’d dummied up test results on a thin sheet of yellow paper to show I’m clean. I pulled the envelope saying it was from the lab in Memphis from the pocket of my jacket, hanging over a chair in the living room. “It’s five months old,” I told him. “We’ll use condoms tonight until I can get a new one done. What about you?” I can’t catch diseases, but I couldn’t tell him I shift into a bird and that magically keeps me from getting sick.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been tested, but I always insist on condoms. No one’s barebacked me since Steve.”
“Okay.” I signed, turned the page towards him, and handed him the pen.
“We’ll negotiate for longer if it works for both of us, right?” he asked. “This isn’t two weeks and goodbye?”
My heart sang with the hope of whatever we were starting lasting a lot longer than two weeks, but I don’t make promises I can’t keep. “I don’t intend for it to be two weeks and goodbye. I have it in there that if I get a call for club business, I may need to untie you and leave with no aftercare until I can return. I won’t leave you tied, and I’ll be back when I can, but it may not be that night. I won’t start anything big if I think I may be called away, but a call may come occasionally when I don’t expect it.”
“I understand, Sir.” He signed the page and sat back, unsure of what to do next. I took a picture of each page and pocketed my phone. “Original copy’s yours. Put it away and strip for me. Have fun with it.”
Chapter 5
Razor
* * *
Matty quickly found his inner flirt, and spun around the room in an erotic dance, shedding clothes as he went. My already-hard dick throbbed in my jeans.
The Marine’s training was apparent when the dance was over, because Matty picked his things up when he finished and neatly folded them in a perfect stack on the kitchen island.
“I love this side of you, boy. The flirt who has fun with life. There’s a time and place for everything, but I hope you find ways to let him shine through when it’s appropriate. Come, stand before me and let’s go over a few poses I’ll want you to know.”
The boy followed instructions well, and we quickly made it through the inspection pose — legs spread wide, hands laced at the back of his head, shoulders back, dick hard.
I pushed my foot forward, heel down and toe up a little. “Kneel with your legs wide and your balls resting on my boot. Hands laced behind your head. It won’t be comfortable. This pose is known as interrogation. It’s a ritual. It’ll happen daily if we ever live together. For now, it’ll happen daily if possible, but at least every third day unless one of us is out of town. Even if I have to stop by for thirty minutes and this is all we have time for.”
He arranged himself and it was easy to see he had a hard time holding the position, but that was part of the point.
“To show you I can tell whether you’re being honest or dishonest, I’ll ask a number of questions and I want you to give me two answers. I’ll tell you which is true. What is your father’s first name?”
“Dave. John.”
I lifted a brow. “Dave is the more correct of the two, but neither are the truth. I’ll guess it’s actually David?”
He looked surprised, then suspicious. He wondered if I’d looked it up and already knew. That was okay.
“Tell me something personal there’s no way I could have looked up.”
Shock again, but he said, “I want to call you Master. I want to call you Daddy.”
“The second, and I’m touched. We’ll discuss it at the end of two weeks. I’d love for you to, but not until it’s time.” I took a breath. The boy had knocked me off my game a little with that one. “What’s your current GPA?”
“Three point nine. Three point seven.”
“The first. What kinky activity do you wish didn’t exist?”
“Kneeling in a corner. Ball torture.”
Both came off exactly the same, so I waited a few seconds. He was pleased. He’d tricked me.
“You hate both equally. Really? Ball torture is as bad as corner time?” I’d need to invest in a cage for punishments.
“How are you doing this, Sir?”
I shook my head. “How isn’t important. I merely need you to understand that I’ll ask you daily if you edged yourself in the shower, and if you truly took yourself as far as you dared. I’ll ask if you’ve played with yourself any other time. If you’ve had an orgasm. If you’ve followed other instructions I’ve given, and whether you’ve broken any rules. I might ask if you should be doing homework instead of serving me. If you’re happy with our relationship. If there’s something you want to tell me but haven’t. Interrogation lets me see how you’re doing, lets me inside your head where you may not want me. Do you understand?”
His cock grew harder and pulsed in time to his heart, while his face showed concern and a little fear. He liked the idea he wouldn’t be able to hide anything from me, though there was obviously some trepidation, too.
“Straight answers now. No need to give me two. Are you looking for something long term or are you playing around?”
“I’ve been playing around, but you’re different, Sir. You could give me a reason to stop playing.”
Total truth, so I gave him the same. “I wasn’t looking for someone when you walked into the bar, but you could give me a reason to settle down.” I lifted my toe and watched his balls move on my boot. “Most intense fantasy. One that might not be safe to live out, but it’s in your mind.”
He closed his eyes. “Please don’t ask that, Sir.”
“Too late, I already asked. Open your eyes and answer.”
“I have a daddy who takes care of me. My money goes to him and I either get an allowance or have to ask for what I want. I get to be a little sometimes, curled in his lap, bedtime. Other times I’m there for his pleasure and have to take what he dishes out. Most of the time it’s at his whim, b
ut he’ll know what I need after a really hard day. I get to take care of him, too. Cooking, shopping, clean sheets on the bed, outfit choices.” His eyes grew big and he added, “Not to dress him like me, but to help him find clothes to express who he is! I could buy you t-shirts you’d like and wouldn’t hate, and biker-dude jeans to frame your ass just right.”
I shook my head. “You’re getting off track. Focus, boy. What about this might not be safe to live out?”
“Total dependence. Totally owned. I crave it, and yet I need to be my own person. You’d never let me have a Kawasaki. You’d trade it in for a Harley, and I like my bike and my choices. I want to help people decorate their homes and offices — I want a career. That doesn’t work with being so totally owned that nothing exists in my world except my daddy.”
And I wanted a boy who also had his own life, because being someone’s moon and stars is too much, too demanding. I wanted to be someone’s moon, but he needed to find his own stars.
I dropped my foot and held my hands out to him. He practically fell into them, and I pulled him into my lap. “If we make it that far, we’ll figure out something in between.” I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. His head rested in the crook of my left arm, and grew heavier as his neck relaxed. His eyes floated closed. I took my time stroking to the tip, and played with the precum when I got there, rubbing it around until it was gone.
Despite that fact my cock was so hard it hurt, my entire body relaxed. My heart slowed. Holding Matty felt right. No one had fit into my arms like this in years. Possibly ever.
“You ever been fisted?” I’m pretty big, and boys who’ve been fisted can usually take me okay.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Like it? Hate it?”
“Yes to both, Sir. I love how close it makes me to the other person, but the act itself can be really hard to handle.”
“You ever been put in chastity? A device?” It isn’t on my temporary boilerplate contract, but it would be on a longer term one, if we got there.
He nodded. “I hated it. It isn’t a hard limit, but it’s…” He shrugged. “I broke up with the two men who insisted. It was their kink, and it isn’t mine. It wouldn’t have worked. Steve used it as a punishment, but it was never on more than a week, and I knew I deserved it when he locked it on.”
Razor: Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, Book 11 Page 4