They had met at a dinner party one of his friends had thrown. They had connected instantly and had talked for hours at the party before leaving it to carry on their conversation at a coffee bar. Mark had gone on at length about his deep-rooted submissive nature and his intense desire to submit to a true Dom. Eric had been utterly smitten.
Thrilled with the possibility he might have found his soul mate at last, Eric had taken him at his word, eagerly preparing to take this lovely young man down the path he’d dreamed of sharing with another. Mark was a masochist, playing his part beautifully against Eric’s dominant nature. Yet it turned out for Mark it was a game, while Eric had hoped for something more.
After their initial passionate play, rich with power exchange and S&M games, Eric had tried to take things to a higher plane. Though he had hoped to teach Mark true submission in the most romantic sense, Mark had balked. While he could take a whipping beautifully, that was because it was what he liked. He could suck cock like god’s gift to man, taking it deep in his throat and holding perfectly still, milking it with his throat muscles to create a sensation like nothing Eric could describe. But that was because it was something Mark liked to do.
When Eric had tried to take him further, training him to hold positions at once erotic and difficult, Mark had refused, saying it distracted him from the intensity of the whipping. When Eric would bind his lover in rope and silk, withholding orgasm as a method of control, Mark would comply, as long as he enjoyed the balance on the edge, but when he was ready to come, the game was over.
Eric had loved Mark, and believed he had loved him back, but ultimately, they were both frustrated. Mark because he found Eric’s demands irritating and too controlling, and Eric because he came to realize, despite what Mark had said about himself when they first met, and had claimed to desire as training had begun, for him it was little more than foreplay.
In the end, Mark had faded away, and Eric’s heart, cracked if not broken by the loss of his dreams, had hardened. From then on, he had contented himself with playing the scene, behaving as if he really were the aloof and dangerous Dom, the mysterious and unapproachable and thus ironically ever-sought after Eric Méndez.
Most of his affairs were short-lived as he enjoyed the attentions of eager guys, some of whom did have submissive tendencies, but no one who pierced the careful netting he’d sewn around his heart since Mark had left him. He’d allow them in his life until he tired of them, and not a second longer. Sometimes they left gracefully, as Ginger had—occasionally there were tears and protestations of true love, but it was never so, at least not for Eric.
Until Johnny.
When he’d seen him suddenly appear, like some perfect statue dressed in black and white, his hair glowing golden under the lamplight in the courtyard, something had snapped inside of Eric. He could actually feel his heart ache with longing as he stared at the stranger.
Yet when he had turned away to answer someone’s question, the moment was lost and the man was gone. He even questioned himself for a second if he had really existed. But those eyes—glimmering green in the half-light—he had not imagined those eyes. Or the look on his face. Was it longing? Could it be he too had felt the electric connection between them?
Normally Eric shied away from the pretty boys. They were usually so self-absorbed and immature he quickly lost interest after the initial lust had burned itself out. At thirty years old, Eric had begun to find the one-night-stands, or even the one-month affairs, draining and without true satisfaction.
When Johnny had disappeared that first night, Eric had consoled himself with just such thoughts. Another stud out looking for some fun, no strings attached, no emotions involved. Yet somehow Eric couldn’t get him out of his head. As the days passed, his thoughts seemed to turn more toward the mysterious golden boy instead of letting him fade from memory.
Eric didn’t normally believe in fate, but when Ginger himself had supplied the key, telling him the guy’s name and where he could be found, Eric’s mind was made up. He would seek out the guy who might not even be gay. It didn’t matter. He had to at least see him once again. Hopefully meet him, perhaps make a connection.
Johnny had been so unexpected. Such an innocent in a world full of jaded, cynical men used to using each other till they used them up, and then moving on with complete indifference and detachment. Johnny was like a fresh flower or a newly emerging butterfly, his wings still wet from the cocoon of his own self-denial.
Beyond Eric’s wildest expectations, Johnny had revealed himself to have submissive tendencies. Eric believed him to be sincere but untried. He well knew fantasy and reality sometimes could not meet, or when they did, the result was less than satisfying. Johnny’s secret dreams of being bound and whipped could wither and die under the harsh light of reality.
Yet he’d seemed so eager, so earnestly willing to try, Eric had acquiesced, letting his own desire for Johnny perhaps color his better judgment. Now as he rinsed the slim dildo and slid it into its carrying bag, he turned to Johnny. He could see the shame in Johnny’s face, mingled with the yearning desire to please.
Gently he stroked the younger man’s cheek. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m sorry, Johnny. I rushed you. I misread your eagerness for readiness. It isn’t going to be easy, you know. I’m going to ask a lot of things of you that you may not feel ready or able to do. It’s up to me to teach you, to guide you there. I’ll be the one making the decisions, calling the shots."
“I got a little carried away,” Eric added, glad to see the shame fade from Johnny’s face, though the frustration was still evident. “See, I’m used to guys with a lot more experience. Even if they haven’t really submitted, they’ve been into the scene, they’re comfortable with their sexuality and they’ve had D/s experience. I forget you’re new to all this. I need to take my time with you, and I will, I promise.”
He kissed Johnny lightly on the lips and stood back. “Now let’s see the other stuff you bought. Set it out on the bed for me so I can give you your assignment for the rest of the week.” Johnny looked quizzically at him but didn’t question him, a good sign of his willingness.
Dutifully Johnny set out the rope, still in its plastic wrap, along with the other items Eric had charged him with procuring. Eric reached in his back pocket and pulled out a pocketknife, which he flipped open. He cut through the wrapping, uncoiled the rope and cut it neatly into several pieces of about two feet each.
Next to the rope lay the wooden ruler and a bright red scarf. “Do you know what these are for?” Eric asked.
“Well, I know what they’re typically for, but I doubt that’s what you have in mind.”
“What do you think I might have in mind?”
Johnny flushed a little. “You’re, um, going to use them on me?”
Eric smiled, his eyes narrowing. “That’s right. I’m going to use them on you. I’m going to use the rope to bind your wrists and ankles. I may use the scarf to blindfold your eyes or gag your mouth or just to tease your flesh. The ruler will be handy for smacking your ass and cock.”
Johnny’s eyes had widened, his teeth suddenly worrying his lower lip. Eric moved very close to him and reached out a hand, placing it over Johnny’s crotch. “Your erection belies your expression, young man. Or perhaps simply complements it. You’re afraid, but you want it, too. You’re intrigued and excited by what I offer, but at the same time you’re afraid. Afraid you might not be able to handle the pain, afraid you might not like it all. Or perhaps afraid you’ll like it too much?” He said this last sentence softly, his hand still on Johnny’s crotch, closing gently to cup the sweet package.
After a moment he released him. Johnny licked his lips but still did not speak. He looked so unhappy Eric said gently, “Please don’t think you’ve failed me, Johnny. Not at all. If anything, I’ve failed you by rushing you. I want you to take the rest of the week to think about things. To decide for yourself, without the distraction of my presence, if this is still something you want
to explore.”
Johnny nodded, looking glum. “I do have an assignment for you, though,” Eric continued, pleased when Johnny brightened. “I want you to get online and read up on BDSM. Read up on the concept of romantic submission. Read stories, read testimonials. Go to the slave journal sites and read what it’s like firsthand to submit. Do be aware a lot of the crap you’re going to run into online is just that. But mixed in with the garbage and the playacting, there are real people. People who live the lifestyle 24/7 and express themselves in their online journals in a meaningful way.
“Just check it out. Scroll around. See how it makes you feel when you read this stuff. And be honest with yourself. You’ve spent enough of your life hiding your feelings, even from yourself. That part of your life is over now, I hope. Even if you and I don’t work out, or we find a different way of being together, without the overlay of a D/s relationship, you’ll still have that, right? You’ll still have this newfound courage to face yourself honestly and openly.”
Johnny nodded. “Yeah. There’s no going back, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. You know…” Johnny sat down on the bed, pushing the potential sex toys aside. “I can’t help but feel I’ve let you down. And myself. We’ve talked about this for hours, and I really thought I could handle it. I still want to try, but I feel like I blew it back there in the bathroom.”
Eric sat next to Johnny, putting an arm around his shoulder. “Listen to me, Johnny. What happened in there was my fault. Now let’s let it go, okay? I told you before, we’re not in a hurry. This isn’t a race. I won’t leave you if you fail to please me in some way or think you’ve failed.”
“Okay.” Johnny grinned. “I can live with that.”
“You better!” Eric laughed. “Because I want this with you. You have no idea how much.” He leaned in to Johnny, finding his lips with his own. They kissed for a moment and Johnny leaned forward, clearly wanting more.
Eric pulled away. “No, no. Not now. It’s time for us to part for a while. We’ll reconnect this Friday. Let’s meet here at my place on Friday, say about seven? I’ll cook you something. We can go out after if we feel like it. Between now and then we’ll think about all this. I mean, it’s a lot to think about, don’t you agree? You can call me anytime you like between now and then. I don’t pick up my cell during work but you can leave a message. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Johnny agreed, turning his face away. Eric could see he wasn’t exactly happy with this arrangement, but he was trying to be cool about it. Johnny stood and said, “I’d better get back to Brooklyn. I’ve got work early tomorrow.”
Eric stood as well. “Wait, I have something I want you to take with you. Wait a second.” Eric left the room, returning in a moment with a small plastic bag. “You can do whatever you like with it. Just don’t forget to bring it back on Friday.” He handed Johnny the sack containing the dildo.
Johnny blushed, holding the thing in his hands for a moment before shoving it into his back pocket. Eric walked him to the door and waved from the hall as Johnny descended the three flights of stairs and walked out into the twilight.
After Johnny had gone Eric sat on the couch in his living room, staring out at the darkening sky. Was he doing the right thing? Part of him wanted to keep Johnny there. To slowly strip him and make passionate love to him. To gently prepare him for anal sex with kisses and attention to the rest of his body, until Johnny himself begged for the invasion.
Yet he had sent him away, even when it was clear Johnny had wanted to stay. Sent him away precisely because he wanted to keep him so very badly. He knew in his bones Johnny could still balk at any moment. He might wake up one morning and decide it was not his entire life that had been a lie, but this one torrid week.
The element of D/s added complexity. Eric knew Johnny was dealing with a lot right at that moment, even if he thought he could handle it. To rush him now, to push him faster than he was able to go, could be the kiss of death. The episode this evening with the dildo brought this fact back home to Eric. He realized he was angry at himself for not giving Johnny more time to adjust. He shouldn’t have started with the phallus. He should have distracted Johnny with kisses and other stimulation while he gently probed his ass with well-lubed fingers.
Would Johnny come back to him on Friday, or had these three days been a one-time deal, a dream too precious to sustain? He poured himself a glass of port and sipped it slowly, his mind on the strange, wonderful man who had tumbled into his life. He stared unseeing at the skyline of Manhattan.
Time would tell, as it always did, what fate held in store for Eric and Johnny.
Chapter 8
“So let me get this straight. You spent the entire weekend with Eric Méndez? Wow, Johnny. You are something else!”
“What do you mean?” Johnny put away his few groceries, his cell phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. He had wanted to call Amanda earlier but had felt conflicted. It was one thing to finally admit to someone he was gay, it was quite another to talk about it.
He’d started to call her several times over the course of the evening but kept snapping his cell phone shut before completing the call. Now she’d saved him the trouble by calling him. “Dude! One minute you say you’re Mr. Straight and the next minute you’re practically living with some guy. And not just any guy. A Dom, J! Eric Méndez is into the ‘scene’! You know, whips and chains and Great Danes.”
Johnny laughed. “Not Great Danes.”
“Oh! So you’ve discussed this, uh, aspect of Méndez’s personality, have you?”
Johnny swallowed, not answering right away. How much did he tell her? He pulled the plastic bag from his back pocket and held it a moment. What would she think if she knew? If she knew not only had they discussed it, they’d begun to experiment with it, what would she think?
So far Amanda had always been very open and nonjudgmental. It was one of the things he appreciated most about her. But it was one thing to admit to being gay to another gay person. It was quite another to admit one’s secret, dark fantasy of being bound and whipped. Or worse yet, that the fantasy was becoming a reality.
He decided on the safer course for the moment. After all, she didn’t share details of her love life with Marlon, so why should he? Noncommittally he said, “I’m aware of it. I knew it before we met, remember? You told me yourself.”
“And you’re not too freaked by it?”
“Nah. He’s a really nice man, Amanda. Well, that’s putting it mildly. He’s, like, amazing.” Johnny was quiet for a moment, a smile stealing its way across his face as he recalled his lover’s handsomely chiseled features, his glossy black hair falling so straight over one eye, no matter how many times he shook it back with a sexy toss of his head. Johnny touched his own mouth, marveling that just a few hours ago Eric had kissed it. The memory made his cock swell and he reached into his jeans, adjusting himself to be more comfortable.
“Hey, you still there?”
“Yeah. I’m still here.”
“So what happens now, J? You gonna see him again? You gonna stop hanging with your girl now you got a boy to play with?” Her tone was light but Johnny sensed the slight trepidation behind her words. He felt his heart surge toward Amanda and realized he loved her. What had started as an interesting diversion from his dreary life had turned into a real friendship.
Grinning into the phone, he said, “Of course I’m not going to stop hanging around with you, sweetie. You’re my bestest pal. You’re the one who’s been with me through this weird shit I’ve been dealing with. You’re the one who took me to DeSoto’s. I wouldn’t have met him if you hadn’t. God knows how long I would have gone on fooling myself without your friendship to support me.”
Amanda sighed deeply into the phone. “That’s so sweet, J. I really appreciate it too. I don’t really have friends, you know? Besides you and Marlon, that is. I just don’t connect with people very easily, I guess. Either they can’t get past my style, or I can’t get past their narrow-minded
shit. But you’re different. Even when you were still telling yourself you were Mr. Straight, you never made me feel weird or different.” She paused, and Johnny felt somehow as if she were saying goodbye.
As he thought about it, he realized things probably would change between them. Johnny was filler for Amanda—someone to hang with while she waited for her lover to come home. Now that he had a lover—he got a little thrill saying those words in his head—now that he had a lover, things might be different. They would be different, because his time would naturally be spent with Eric as often as possible. Eric didn’t work the nightshift like Marlon.
As if reading his mind, Amanda said, “So what does Eric do when he isn’t whipping subbies on the club circuit on Saturday nights?”
“He’s a psychologist. Has a private practice in Manhattan.”
“Well, la-de-da,” Amanda said. “Mr. Fancy Pants! Does he know you’re just a lowly mechanic? A blue-collar worker who makes his living by the sweat of his brow and the grease on his pants?”
Johnny frowned. Whether she knew it or not, she had touched a nerve. It bothered Johnny he hadn’t been to college. Instead of feeling proud of the good, useful work he did at the garage, it vaguely embarrassed him. Along with all the other dreams he’d repressed, a college education and professional career had been one of them.
“He doesn’t care,” he said, a little abruptly.
“No, I don’t imagine he would. Probably likes the idea of a hot stud, a tough guy, to play with. A rogue from the wrong side of the tracks—adds a little dangerous flavor.” She laughed, and Johnny found himself becoming irritated.
“Hey listen, I’m really tired. I have to be up early so I’m gonna say good night, okay?”
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