I had a nice side-view of my boy when I hit the final landing on the steps, and every muscle in his body seemed tense. Good.
He trembled at my touch, and I spent at least five minutes exploring every muscle and tendon. Finally, I stepped back.
“Tell me what’s about to happen, and why.”
“Weekly maintenance, to help me mind my Daddy. To help me remember my place so I don’t have to be punished.” He swallowed. “I don’t like it when you punish me. I’m sorry I was bad.”
I stroked his back and kissed his cheek. “It’s in the past, Matty. You needed to know what would happen if you challenged my authority. I’m not mad. We’re good.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Daddy.”
I’d spray painted PVC pipe to look like steel, and drilled holes in the end. Chains and washers were permanently situated, so all I had to do was hang them from the chin up bar. I’d eyeballed the right height, but it didn’t take any time to get rid of two lengths of chain to pull my boy’s ass even higher.
When I finished situating him, he held the two door knockers at waist height, and his cuffs were attached so he couldn’t pull away. His hips were suspended over the swinging PVC pipe, and a spreader bar held his legs wide open. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“How many are you about to get, and why?”
“At least twenty, Sir, but there’s no upper number. Daddy knows what his boy needs.”
I’d explained to him he’d be crying and out of control before I stopped, but I hadn’t told him I’d need to see his face. I settled a mirror on the floor, propped against the wall. He didn’t have a safeword for maintenance or punishment. Eventually, I’d know him well enough to see the signs in his body language, but for now I wanted to see his face.
“If you get in trouble you can use your safeword or you can tell me the problem,” I reminded him. “Whether I stop, ease off, or keep going is up to me though.”
“I understand, Daddy.”
Some human submissives end up with what’s called leather-ass, and you can beat the hell out of them without causing damage. The veins and arteries develop stronger walls, the fat and muscle forms so it absorbs the strikes, and you don’t have to worry about serious, dangerous bruising. Matty wasn’t quite there, but I could still get rougher with him than I could most humans.
At forty strikes, he was hurting and close to tears, but the waterworks didn’t start until I hit fifty-two. I wasn’t counting out loud, and I wouldn’t share any numbers with Matty, but it was important I knew what my boy could handle from week to week.
I stopped at seventy-three because I saw signals of true distress. Maintenance spankings have dozens of positive uses, and one of them is creating more trust between Daddy and boy. Matty wouldn’t understand how I’d known, but the fact I’d sensed when he’d been in trouble would stick with him.
I caressed his ass and thighs, felt the welts, and finally rubbed his back. I needed to fuck him and I knew he needed to be fucked, but not here. I released him and carried my boy to bed so I could hold him and love him.
Chapter 10
Razor
* * *
The weather warmed, the trees sprouted baby green leaves, flowers bloomed, and my boy’s allergies kicked his ass. I take my good health for granted, and it was hard to watch him have to take pills so he could breathe through his nose. The pills worked, thank goodness, but I hated that he had to take them.
He put his notice in at both jobs, and went to work for the design firm. I was so proud of him for standing up for himself and successfully negotiating so they paid him his worth for his graphics skills.
Matty’s first race was in Daytona. Brain stayed home to run things, which meant Duke, Bash, Angelica, Ghost, Connie, Viper, and Bobcat came with us.
Angelica was officially a consultant on Matty’s team, which got her into the pits and then on the sidelines with his crew.
I’d had no idea the kind of training Matty was going to need heading into this, but I’d done my best to be supportive despite the long hours of practice.
Matty led part of the race, but crossed the finish line in second place, which was still phenomenal considering it was his first professional race in years, and his first MX-Cross race ever.
A representative from his sponsor had told me Matty was ultra-sensitive about them asking me to back off in public. Their PR people wanted him to appear single, and it was more about him being marketable for commercials than being gay. The guys with girlfriends were asked to appear single, too. The rep had asked me to help them out, since Matty wouldn’t even discuss asking me to back off. I’d talked to Matty about it, told him to get over it already, and I was sitting in the stands with my brothers.
I’d have loved to be down there, but if my boy was going to do this, he needed to do it right, and placating your sponsor is important.
But then someone got a shot of Angelica hugging him after the race, and things kind of snowballed online. I was worried Bash would get pissed, but he was good-natured about it, thank goodness. Matty was pissed at first, but the more he told people Angelica wasn’t his girlfriend, the less they believed him.
“Don’t confirm or deny anything,” I told him when I saw him later. “Tell them your personal life is personal. Be a mystery.”
“Don’t want to be a mystery. Want to be your boy.”
I put my mouth to his ear. “If you doubt you are, I can take you to the hotel room and remind you.”
He was ready for me to do just that, but I turned him around and nudged him towards the next reporter. “You just took second place, and some of these people seem to think you came out of nowhere. Talk to them, get yourself out there.”
By that evening, Matty’s name was trending on Twitter, a sexy, shirtless image of him drinking an energy drink was on the homepage of his energy-drink sponsor, and his name and image were all over the racing boards. Someone had gotten a beautiful shot of him mid-air, and the pic seemed to be everywhere.
Matty had told me they’d done some photo shoots during his practice runs in Ringgold, but I had no idea it’d been sexy shots. I didn’t mind, but I wanted to see the other pics, because damn the picture on his sponsor’s home page made me want to drag him off to our room and ravage him. From the way the women around him reacted, it apparently worked for them, too.
Micca came to the next race, two weeks later, and Matty got her a pit pass. There were pictures of him with his arm around Micca and Angelica at the same time, and you can imagine the rumors around that.
Meanwhile, things at home were good. Matty loved his job, and Micca stayed at our house a few nights a week. She didn’t get all weirded out about our relationship, and seemed to get a kick out of me dialing Matty down when he needed it.
Before long, it was time for the next race, and my brothers were great about offering to fill in for me so I could get away from my responsibilities to be there for my boy. Still, it worked out so Matty had to leave a few days before me, which meant I was alone on the plane when I flew to him. I thought about him the entire flight, and went straight to the track when I arrived in town.
Matty
* * *
I’m a flirt. I can’t help it.
Daddy knows it’s just part of who I am, and he’s never had a problem with it, thank goodness. And my sponsor’s people seemed to eat it up. They wanted me to be out there, and liked it when I made people feel good.
I was more relaxed for the second race, but still on edge. I’d left a few days before Daddy, and I missed him. I wasn’t used to sleeping alone. Or waking up alone.
My sponsor had arranged a photo shoot after the morning’s practice, and they made me available to sign shit for people as part of the photo shoot. I was assigned security about an hour before, and one of the security guys was smokin’ hot. I recognized him as gay, and a Top, right off the bat. He saw me for what I am, too, and electricity flew between us.
Thankfully, he was in the background while I flirted wi
th the people wanting me to sign photos and posters. My sponsor had two people in this race. The other guy was retiring and this was his last year. They brought me in for three races this season, so I could hit the ground running next year. I felt bad, because more people wanted my signature than the other guy, and we were side by side, supposed to be getting along like teammates, which was bullshit because it’s every man for yourself out on the track.
And Mister Smokin’ Hot Security Guy hovered. Close.
Not to mention, I was trying hard to focus on the people around me and not watch for Daddy. His plane was supposed to have arrived, but my phone hadn’t vibrated a single time. I’d set it so it would only vibrate if it was the PR people or Daddy. Everyone else could wait.
We finished the signing, and Mister Smokin’ Hot Security Guy put an arm around me to walk me away from the crowd and into a break room. I don’t actually like energy drinks, so this was my chance to down a half-gallon of water to rehydrate. I’d just got my water and was about to sit down when the door flew open. Daddy stormed in, grabbed the security guy by the throat, lifted him in the air, held him to the wall, and said, “He’s mine.”
I ran to Daddy and grabbed his arm. “Nothing happened!” He was still looking at the other man, and I said, “I don’t even know his name!”
Daddy still wasn’t acknowledging me, and I said, “Look at me. See the truth in my words, dammit!”
He looked at me, and I said, “I met him a few hours ago, right before the photo shoot started. We’ve been in public the whole time, until we just came in here. We flirted, and yeah, he’s hot, but that’s it! I’m yours! I don’t want him.”
I wouldn’t have said the last sentence if I hadn’t meant it down to my bones. I wanted Daddy, and no one else.
Daddy let him down, and the security guy leaned over and gagged. His color seemed to be coming back so I turned to Daddy.
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I do. He’s a…” He shook his head. “He can’t be trusted.”
“But I can!”
He looked at the door, and my gaze followed his. A dozen people were jockeying for position, their cellphones out and aimed at us. The door was in shatters, no way to close it.
Daddy looked at the other man, who’d straightened up and was breathing okay by then. “Give me your jacket.”
It had SECURITY emblazoned on the back, and a patch on the front. The man shook his head. “I’ll get the two of you out of here. No hard feelings.”
They shook hands, the people with the video cameras looked disappointed, and the security guy ushered us out and into another room but stayed outside so we’d have privacy inside.
“I can’t believe you did that!”
“He had his hands all over you, and you fucking leaned into him!”
“You know I’m a huge flirt! It’s never been a problem before!”
He crossed his arms and glared at me.
I analyzed everything that’d happened, and said, “You haven’t seen me in a few days. That shouldn’t have been the first thing you saw. I’m sorry. He was shielding me from fans, and I didn’t think about how it looked.” I put my hands on my hips. “Still, that was over the top! And rude! I’m almost afraid to look online. Do you know when they started videoing?”
Daddy pulled me to a small couch, sat, and pulled me into his lap. He looked someone up on his phone, and called them on speakerphone.
“It’s possible I’ve created a situation. I don’t know. Just a heads up to keep an eye on things online. There was video.”
One of the PR ladies asked, “What have you done?”
“He kicked a door down and attacked the security guy who’d been flirting with me,” I said. “They’re okay now, and the video will show that if they don’t edit it out. I’m not sure exactly what I said while I tried to calm Razor down, though.”
“You told me I’m yours and you don’t want him,” said Daddy.
“Fuck me.” She disconnected, and Daddy set his phone aside to give me a proper hug.
“Wish I could tear your ass up with my belt tonight, but it’ll have to wait until after the race.”
He touched my hair. I’d had it highlighted the day before. “If I’d seen you with those stupid foil things on your head, I’d have made fun of you.”
“My PR person made them do it in a back room, so no one would get a picture.”
“She’s more than earning whatever they pay her, babysitting you.”
His phone rang, and he answered it on speaker again.
“Do I have you both?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“The video up now has him storming to the door and bursting through it like the Kool-Aid man. It’s obvious you’re trying to get him to let the guy down, but there’s too much going on and you can’t hear what you say. The two of you never hug or anything. We can make this work by saying Razor had an issue with the security guard that had nothing to do with Matty. We’ll make Matty seem a hero for stepping up to help his security guy.”
Daddy held my gaze as he answered, “Works for me. Text me what you want me to say. I do better reading it than hearing it. There was a handshake later, so you’ll have to make whatever you come up with fit the whole scenario, including why he brought us to another room and is guarding us while we’re in it. I was obviously coming to see Matty and not him, since we’re holed up together after the confrontation.”
“You’re both from Chattanooga, you’ve been seen hanging out together. You’re friends. I’ll work on the wording and text you.”
Razor disconnected without saying goodbye this time, and I leaned in and kissed him. “I missed you, Daddy.”
“Fuck, I missed having my boy around. How are practices going?”
“The Vegas odds have me as the one to beat, so I guess they’re going okay.”
“How do you feel about it? Your bike’s set up right? Everything solid?”
“Oh, yeah. I have a dream team crew. I’m sure Angelica will recommend a few tweaks, but it doesn’t feel like it can get any better. The course feels like they made it for me — there isn’t a single part that feels like a challenge, while most of the others are having problems with one of the turns.” I shrugged. “Anything can happen, but I feel good about it.”
He pulled me to him, and I moved my legs so I could relax into his warm embrace. “God, it feels so good to be in your arms again. Like I’m safe here. Nothing can ever hurt me.”
“While I’m around, nothing will.”
“I know, Daddy. I know.”
Chapter 11
Razor
* * *
The last race of the year was in Vegas, and it was cheaper for us to charter a flight to carry the MC than to pay for airline tickets for everyone. Matty had won his second race, and most of the MC wanted to come see him in his final run of the season. Didn’t matter he wasn’t up for the championship — he could still win the race. We left enough people home to keep our businesses running, but barely.
We’d had to get Randall to help us get an invitation from the local Pack. It would’ve been okay for a few of us to come, but we brought more than twenty bikers, and along with our ol’ladies and other friends, we were more than double that number. I didn’t blame them for being nervous, but we promised to behave and we meant it.
Also, we scored eight tickets for the local Pack leader.
Matty left a few days before me again, and I worried about him, but I had to trust he’d stay safe. Our chartered flight to Vegas was a huge party, and we were still partying when we got off the plane. One of the ol’ladies in Atlanta is a travel agent, and she had Hummer limos waiting at the airport to take us to our hotel. We made quite a spectacle when we exited our vehicles to check in, but I was only interested in finding Matty.
He was practicing on the track when I arrived, and I just stood and watched, so fucking proud of my boy. He’d raced for his dad when he was growing up, but now he was doing it for himself. He’d
had to get away from it before he could appreciate it. Matty is magic on a bike, and he doesn’t back down to anyone on the track.
My little scuffle with the security guy hadn’t just gone away like the PR people wanted it to. The morning of the race, people were remembering the rumors of him being bisexual, and were speculating Matty had a thing going with both me and the security guy. Or, that we were friends and I’d thought the security guy had taken advantage of him.
Matty had gotten pretty good at saying, “My personal life is personal,” and for this, he added, “Get your own life and maybe mine won’t seem so interesting.”
I wasn’t used to answering questions though, and apparently telling people to get out of my face before I punched theirs wasn’t on the approved list of responses. Oh well.
The first night, I fucked him for all I was worth — several times. He still had a few days until the race and we both needed the affirmation of who we were. The other nights, I tried hard to find a balance between giving him what he needed and making sure he felt like my boy. If he thought I was tailoring sex to his needs instead of mine, it wouldn’t work for him. However, it had to be about him and what he needed in the days leading up to the race.
He needed the release of responsibility, the chance to be my boy, and I needed to give it to him. And yet, he had to be in top physical shape for the race, so I couldn’t whale on his ass.
He knew what I was doing though, and pushed the issue the night before the race.
“It’s time for bed, Matty. You have a big day tomorrow. We can watch something boring to help you fall asleep, or we can turn the light out and have quiet. Which do you want?”
“Want you to fuck me to sleep.”
I kissed his forehead and pulled him to me. “We’ve fucked three times today. You need rest.”
Razor: Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, Book 11 Page 8