“Fuck you and your I know that! You didn’t know it when you were fingering my ass ten minutes ago.”
Liam raised his eyebrows. “Austin, calm down. Deep breaths, remember? I didn’t do anything you didn’t let me do, okay? The second you safeworded, I stopped. Didn’t I.”
Austin’s heart pounded. He didn’t want to take deep breaths. He should get dressed. He should get the fuck out of here and never come back.
And yet, he stood rooted to the spot, staring Liam down. “Wh-why?” he asked. “You had me. You could have had your way with me. You could have done anything to me, anything you wanted.”
“Why? Because that’s the way it works, Austin. I’m not in this to hurt you or God forbid rape you. I want you to, well, maybe not enjoy yourself, exactly, but to get what you need out of it. I want to be what you need.”
Austin fell into a crouch, caging his head in his hands. “How could I possibly need . . . that?”
“Lots of people do.” Liam shrugged.
Austin snorted, then sniffled. His nose had started running again. When he spoke, his voice quaked. “Yeah. Gay ones.”
“Oh, give me a break!” Liam rolled his eyes. “Gay ones. Bi ones. Straight ones. Everything in between.”
“Yeah, if you give them money!” he protested. “I did all this shit for free. What does that make me?”
A fag. It makes you a fag.
Liam, once again completely oblivious to how much Austin was hurting, laughed and shook his head. “Get dressed and come sit down, would you? You’ve gone off the rails, here. Do you want a drink?”
“What, like a shot of whiskey?” Great. Now he was hysterical again.
“I was thinking more like water. You must be pretty thirsty after all that screaming and crying you did.”
Austin didn’t think Liam meant it to be humiliating, more a statement of fact, but Austin’s face burned all the same. What was worse, though, his cock chubbed up too. “Yeah, well, you fucking hurt me,” he said, as much a reminder to himself (and his dick) as it was to Liam.
“That’s—” Liam sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Well, yeah. That’s a part of what I do, Austin. Look. Get dressed and I’ll grab you a bottle of water, and we’ll talk.”
“What if I don’t fucking want to talk, huh? What if I don’t wanna get dressed just because you tell me to? What if I’m sick of you trying to be my fucking dad all the time?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. See, now, this? This is why I didn’t want to go down this road with you, Austin. You’re all high-strung and so caught up with worrying about being gay, you can’t let yourself need what you need and like what you like. You think you’re the first straight guy in existence who gets off on the extra-special humiliation of submitting to a man? Because sorry, you’re not. I play with straight guys all the time. Why’d you think I never took my dick out? Believe me, it’s not because I didn’t want those pretty lips of yours wrapped around it. I’d love to see you choking on my dick, Austin, if only to shut you up.” He blew out a breath. Ran both hands over his scalp.
Austin felt like he’d been slapped. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“Yeah, well, no shit. You’re pretty, but you’re dumb as a bag of rocks, aren’t you?” Liam winced. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“No. No. It’s fine. It’s fine. I get it. I’m an idiot and I don’t know what I’m getting into and you were right the whole time; I can’t handle you. Can’t even take a little bit of pain. You won’t even trust me with your dick.”
“It’s not— How— For fuck’s— How did you come to that conclusion? It’s not that I don’t trust you with my dick, it’s that I don’t generally get my dick out with straight guys, because they want the submission, but they don’t necessarily want to have gay sex. You can do that, you know. Be dominated without having sex. I’m here to push your boundaries and get you off, not do shit you don’t want me to do to you.”
“Oh yeah, things I don’t want you to do to me? What, like beating my ass until I’m crying like a girl?”
“To be fair, I personally thought you cried like a grown man.” For a second there, Liam smiled, but then his smile fell. “So you’re not into pain. I didn’t realize. I’m sorry. Dominating people isn’t an exact science. You have to play it by ear, mostly. You reacted well to the spanking, so I went for it.” His shoulders slumped. “But I was wrong.”
“Yeah. You were.” As hard as he was trying to stay angry at Liam, though, the guy’s stupid apologetic face wasn’t letting him keep up the momentum.
Which was a dope move on Austin’s part, because it didn’t take long for Liam’s apologetic switch to flip back to attack mode again. Target: Austin. “But regardless of the mistakes I made, it doesn’t change the fact that you have got to get over this terror of being gay. You’re not gay, all right? Things aren’t as black and white as you think they are. It’s not like there’s a tiny island of straightness in the middle of an ocean of gay, and if you so much as dip your toe—or get splashed by a wave or whatever—then, that’s it, you’re gay forever. It’s not like that. People experiment. They do things that aren’t necessarily in line with their sexuality. God, kid, you’ve turned this gay/straight thing into a fucking noose, and it’s strangling you!”
Austin swallowed, and yeah, it sure did feel like he was being strangled right then.
“So I gave you a boner. So you like having your ass poked. It’s something you do, Austin. It’s not who you are.”
Austin nodded wordlessly, and his ass stung, and he knew his so-called grown man tears were back again. He swiped at them uselessly.
Liam didn’t comment on the tears. Just smiled gently. “So here’s the deal, buddy. If you want to get dressed and leave right now, that’s okay. Leave. Leave and know that regardless of what we did together, you’re still you, and you’re still straight. You’re still straight so long as when you look into yourself—honestly look into yourself—that’s what you want to call what you see.” He patted the couch beside him, eyebrows raised. “So you can leave, or—and this is my vote, personally—you can stay, and we can talk about what happened to you with the pain, talk about why it didn’t work, and maybe we can try this thing again. And you know what? If we do try again, you’re still gonna be straight.” He stared at Austin through wide open eyes, as if daring him to argue that last point.
And God, Austin really, really didn’t want to.
Could it really be that easy, though?
Austin didn’t think so, but man did Liam ever have a way of looking so certain about shit, like he knew all the secrets of the universe, and it made it real hard for Austin not to go along with whatever he said.
Not to mention, it was a real attractive thing, what Liam was offering. Be straight; be straight hockey player Austin with the respect of his team and a puck bunny on each arm, and get all his secret needs taken care of? Shit. Whoever had come up with that phrase Having your cake and eating it too had obviously never gotten a deal this good.
Well, Austin was hardly gonna be the guy to have his cake and throw it in the trash, now, was he?
He’d have to be a fucking idiot. Or Warren, maybe. Warren seemed like the kind of guy to let an opportunity like this pass him by.
Christians, man, how did they function with all those rules?
Well, Austin was no Warren, and he liked cake, so he squared his shoulders and walked right up to Liam. Crossed his arms. “This doesn’t make me gay,” he said, staring the guy down. “I m-may like it when you call me a f-f-fag”—he whispered it, not sure whether his shame came from using such a cruel world around Liam, or from admitting to his desire for something so dirty—“but I’m not one, right? You said it, the things I like and the things I do don’t make me gay. And seeing as I have a hockey career to think of, I’d rather we kept everything between you and me. Everything we do. Everything I like. I want it to be a secret, all right?” The words sounded a lot braver than he felt, because what
if Liam said No? What if Liam wanted to go public? What if Liam thought this made them boyfriends, or that it meant Austin was now cool with doing porn with him? Could Austin really walk away from Liam now? Now, after he’d come so close to finally getting what he needed?
Liam sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m going to regret this, but okay, fine. We’ll keep all this in the closet.”
“There is no closet, because I’m not gay.”
“I already told you I believe you, kid. Do you believe me that I believe you?”
That was a lot of believes, so Austin had to stop a minute and do the math. “I believe you,” he said, at last, and it was true: he’d never gotten the feeling that Liam was only playing along, or that Liam was secretly laughing at him for insisting he was straight. When Liam said he believed Austin was straight, it was because he did. There was no hidden meaning there, not with Liam, because Liam said what was on his mind, and wasn’t that what had drawn Austin to him in the first place?
“Okay,” Liam said with a nod. “So all this I’m not gay talk you keep spouting . . . who are you trying to convince, if not me?”
Fuck.
Austin flopped onto the couch. “Point,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So let’s just establish: yes, you’re straight; yes, you’ve got a couple kinks that kinda test the limits of straightness; yes, you’d rather not make a public thing of it. Okay, fine. I won’t tell anyone what goes between us. And in return, Austin, you’re going to tell me your story. I want to know why you sought me out, and I want to know what you think you might want from me, and then I want to talk to you about what happened when you safeworded.” He turned to Austin, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Okay?”
For the first time since they’d been talking, Austin realized he was naked. Butt naked, sitting on this couch next to Liam, who was . . . well, not fully dressed, but definitely not naked, either. Funny, but that had felt so natural before now: him naked and Liam dressed. Still did, actually. Maybe it was the question that made him feel so raw and not the physical state of being nude.
Or maybe he was full of shit and totally not smart enough to be analyzing things that way. He was naked. That was why he felt naked. And Liam was still looking at him, expecting an answer. Liam, not Puck, but still, he should really start talking if he ever wanted to see Puck again.
“I . . .” he began, but at the same time didn’t begin at all, because that was all there was. He didn’t know where to start or what to say or any of it, and Liam was sitting there staring at him expectantly and God, what now. His face burned.
Liam watched him squirm for a minute or so, and then he smiled, a weird kind of soft, wistful smile, like the kind of expression you’d film in soft focus. “It’s okay, buddy. You’re having a hard time telling me, huh? What if you got on your knees and tried?”
On his—
Austin’s brain shorted out.
On his knees?
And then the relief flooded him with warmth, like a cup of Timmies after a skate on an outdoor rink.
He jerked his head in a nod and slipped to his knees. In an instant, all the awkwardness went away. Puck guided his head to his lap and petted his hair. Petted him and petted him, until all the tension had drained from his body, until he was in a calm, not-quite-sleepy place: not as heady as the other places Puck had taken him today, but a softer, lazier version, and Austin liked it fine. His shoulders slumped. He breathed in the smell of the leather.
“Much better,” Puck said at last. “You feel better?”
It was amazing how much better. And the best part was, down here on his knees? Austin didn’t even feel like he had to analyze exactly why that was. “Yeah,” he said.
“Good boy. I’m glad.” Puck toyed with Austin’s hair, brushing it off his cheek and twirling locks of it between his fingers. “All right. First question. Why me?”
The words were out of Austin’s mouth before he could put them together in his mind. “Because I trust you.”
Puck’s voice was soft, soothing, neither disappointed in Austin’s answer or excited by it. “With your secret?”
Yes, Austin did, but that wasn’t what he’d meant when he’d said it. “I trust you not to hurt me. Or send me away.”
“Mm-hmm. Is that something you’re afraid of with other people?”
Um, duh, of course it fucking is! he’d have replied, if this was Liam and he was still sitting on the couch, but this was Puck, and Austin was on his knees. “Yeah,” he admitted. He tightened his hands into fists. “How could I not be? I— This thing, this thing that’s wrong with me, it’s—”
“‘Wrong with you’? What’s wrong with you?”
“The way I get turned on. Like when you call me fag, it drives me crazy. Not just that. Pussy, girly-boy, cocksucker, all of it. Ever since I was in Bantam hockey, guys would trash-talk each other, you know, and whenever it went that way I would . . .” He swallowed hard, almost couldn’t say it, and then Puck gently tugged on his hair, and it fell out of his mouth: “Get hard, okay? I would get a boner. I still do. It’s horrible, and I know that one day it’s gonna happen and someone’s gonna see and then they’re gonna know—”
“Shhh,” Puck said, and his hand slipped from Austin’s hair down to his neck, giving it a gentle pinching rub. It was only then that Austin realized how high and panicked his voice had gotten, how hard his breathing. But Puck didn’t make a big deal out of it, just touched him, kept touching him, and said, “That’s heavy, kiddo.”
“Tell me about it,” Austin replied, miserably. “I feel like I’m living on the edge of the apocalypse or something. One wrong move and my life is—” He sniffled in frustration. “Fuck. Over. It’s over.” He snapped his fingers. “Like that.”
“I remember that feeling,” Puck said.
“You do?”
“Austin, you have a kink that makes you feel like you don’t belong with other guys. Imagine what it would be like to be bisexual or gay?”
“I guess,” Austin said. “So that’s all this is? That’s all that’s wrong with me? A kink?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you, kiddo. I can’t say that enough. Nothing’s wrong with you. Look at me.”
A few seconds of struggle, and then Austin did. Straightened up on his knees and stared into Puck’s eyes.
Puck took his cheeks between his hands, cradling his face. “Nothing. Is. Wrong. With. You.”
It was only when Puck’s thumbs swept across his cheeks that Austin realized his eyes had leaked a little.
“Nothing is wrong with you. But yes, that’s all it is. A kink. A kink that’s getting in the way of your life a little, but a kink just the same. Lots of guys are into that. Straight, gay, bisexual. Guys who like to be emasculated, guys who like to be insulted or laughed at, guys who like to be forced to wear women’s clothes, guys who like to be dehumanized and act like dogs, guys who like to be used as toilets. Everything in between.”
Austin laughed, the sound of it a little ragged with tears. “When you put it that way, I don’t sound all that bad.”
“You’re not bad, buddy. Nobody is, as long as everybody’s an adult and everybody’s consenting. You’re not bad. You’re fine just the way you are. And I’m going to give you everything you need.” He cocked a smile. “Right after you tell me what that is.”
“I don’t know,” Austin said. “I don’t know what I need. I need . . .” And now he dipped his head again, and Puck let him. Let him rest it on Puck’s thigh again. Reclaim the safety of the position, of being on his knees and hiding his face. “I need you to help me,” he said.
“I can do that,” Puck replied. “We can explore together. So let’s start by talking about what we did earlier. One word answers, okay? Yes or no. You like me calling you names.”
Austin snorted. “That should be ob—”
Puck yanked his hair. “Yes or no answers, Austin.”
“Y-yes.”
“Good. Now. You like me givin
g you orders.”
That one was easy. “Yes.”
“You like me playing with your little hole, maybe penetrating you.”
Austin’s eyelids fluttered, and he grunted with effort. “Yes.”
“Mmm, nice. That makes me happy to hear.”
The pain and discomfort of the questioning subsided a little.
“Okay. You like me emasculating you. That is, you like me treating you like a fag or a girl.”
“Yes!” Austin’s teeth were gritted, but his dick jerked with interest.
“Points for enthusiasm. Now’s the tough part. You like me spanking you.”
“I . . .”
“Think carefully, Austin. Spanking. My hand on your ass, maybe you turned over my knee.”
God, fuck. “Yes.”
“That’s what I thought. Last question. Remember, think carefully, because even though it sounds similar, it’s not the same as the one I just asked. Okay?”
“Okay,” Austin replied, because Puck always wanted answers to direct questions.
“You like pain,” Puck said.
Pain: Puck’s hand striking him one too many times, a little bit too hard. The paddle. Running until he vomited. Punching walls. Bashing his head against things.
Cutting himself.
His hand drifted to his inner thigh, tracing the rows of scars hidden there. Puck’s voice: There is nothing wrong with you.
“Austin,” Puck said, reminding him. “Do you like pain?”
“No.”
I don’t like pain.
Austin tensed up, waiting for an expression of disappointment or disapproval or rejection . . . that never came.
“That’s kinda what I thought,” Puck said simply, instead.
“Y-you did?”
Puck sounded bemused, his voice husky. “I had a hunch.”
“So why . . .” God, was he allowed to question his Dom’s decisions and motivations? Was that allowed?
“Why did I do it? Because I was feeling out your boundaries. That’s what I do, kiddo. Push you, see how much you can take and how far you can go. And in my defence, you did ask for More, harder right before I switched to the paddle.”
Straight Shooter (Rear Entrance Video, #3) Page 14