"He's beautifully trained, William. And I remember that night with the wax. He suffers so prettily." Master Ian kept stroking him, sending little shivers down Chris's neck. "Boy, would you like to scene with me again soon?"
Chris said nothing and looked at the floor. He didn't want this little man. He wanted his William, only William. He didn't mind a scene or two, but the thought of doing it without William watching made him go cold.
William cleared his throat. "Answer him, Chris. Truthfully. There will be no punishment no matter what you say."
Chris nodded. "Yes, sir," he said to Ian. "I would like to."
"But not tonight. Tonight, I want to know more about you. Chris, look at me, please. I don't bite and I like to see someone's face when I'm talking. I have trouble talking to hair."
Chris looked up, made brief eye contact and looked away. Ian never stopped stroking him. He blushed and managed to raise his eyes as far as Ian's shoulders.
"Very good. Just look where you are comfortable, boy. Tell me, what do you like doing for William? Service submission? Sex? Role-play scenes? Speak freely. Tell me about yourself, what you like."
Chris screwed up his face. He took a deep breath and smoothed out his features. "I don't want to, sir."
Master Ian's eyebrow went up. "Indeed." His tone said he was not used to being balked by subs. "I already know you like your pain. I know how much you like, too. But I'd like to know more. Tell me one thing you like. Either in the playroom or out of it."
Chris swallowed and took the out Master Ian offered. "The whip."
Master Ian stroked his face some more. "I like the whip, too. I like watching a sub flinch at the sound of the cracker going off. I like the marks it makes. I like watching my boy fly under its kiss." He smiled and Chris looked at his forearm, studying the smooth play of muscles that came from use and not from a gym. "What's your favorite food?"
"Pizza..." Chris hesitated to say it. William didn't like pizza at all, so he only rarely got it.
Master Ian's hand on his cheek soothed him. "Can you make it? I like good pizza. I like making it, too. Especially with a boy who enjoys cooking."
Chris half-shrugged. "I can. But not as good as Tony's pizza." The little place down the road made the best pizza in town. Chris sometimes thought he could eat an acre of it.
He let his mind wander as Ian talked over his head to William. Absorbed in the thought of mushroom and onion pizza, Chris didn't notice when Master Ian leaned forward to kiss him. The barest brush of lips across his cheek made Chris flinch as if Master Ian had slapped him. He steadied himself and Master Ian patted his cheek.
"Such a nice boy. Too nice for someone like Master Bear." Ian looked him over, scrutinizing him, staring into his face and eyes. He let out a long sigh. "Boy, would it be easier if I hauled you into the playroom, flogged you bloody, and told William you weren't good enough for me?"
Chris looked at the floor, embarrassed at his transparency, and whispered, "Probably."
To his surprise, Master Ian leaned in and kissed his forehead. "I know." He pressed his own forehead to Chris's and sighed. "I really do know." He sat up a little, but never took his hand away. "Watching my boy die was one of the hardest things I've ever lived through. And it's got to be just as brutal on you. Let's set William's mind at ease and at least try?"
Chris nodded. Master Ian might be all right. He still really didn't want the little man. But he was willing to try, for William's sake.
"I'm going to kiss you, properly. You can tell a lot about a person from his kiss." Ian tipped Chris's face up and ran his thumb along Chris's lower lip. Then his lips came down, slow and sweet on Chris's own. Chris relaxed into the kiss. Master Ian tasted all right. His tongue tapped gently, as if knocking and asking for entrance. Chris liked that. Some tops just grabbed the hinge of his jaw, forced his mouth open, and plunged in.
He gave himself over to the kiss, letting Master Ian taste him. Ian's tongue went deep, reaching the roof of his mouth and down into the corners of his cheeks. He stroked it with his own and sucked it. When they parted, Master Ian was breathing hard and smiling. It wasn't a bad kiss, but Chris felt no desire from it.
"Pick out a movie for tomorrow, Chris. I'll be by for dinner." He patted Chris's cheek and stole a quick peck of his lips. He got up and kissed William, with sweet affection but no heat. "Better yet, I'll be by with dinner." Ian let himself out.
Chris stayed on his knees by the empty chair, not looking at William. His master cleared his throat and Chris looked up to see him frowning.
"Christopher." Chris flinched at the use of his full name. "I am disappointed. You will behave better for Master Ian tomorrow."
"Yes, Master." Chris kept his eyes down and waited to hear what his punishment would be for his bad behavior.
"Come to bed. I'm exhausted."
That hurt most of all.
* * * *
Ian came knocking about six o'clock, carrying a large pizza and a box of take-out lasagna for William. Chris let him in and took the food. He served it up on the already set table as he watched Ian kiss William and then help him into the dining room to eat.
They talked of nothing much. Chris listened more than he spoke. He caught Ian smiling at him and did his best to answer with more than a single word when Ian asked a question. His mind was in the playroom. William had told him they would all three be playing tonight.
Master Ian was good and Chris had enjoyed the other scene, but tonight, his hands shook as he tried to eat. He didn't have any appetite for the pizza. His stomach lay like a ball of knotted snakes in his middle. He ate a slice anyway, hoping it would help. Master Ian had gone to some trouble for him and it would look ungrateful to not eat.
"Chris," Ian said, "why don't you go to the playroom and center yourself? I think you'll feel better."
Chris stole a look at William, who nodded. He went to the soundproof playroom that had once been a spare bedroom, stripped, and knelt to wait.
As much as he tried to breathe slowly and evenly, he still shook. His breath came in little pants. He closed his eyes and thought of nothing. It only made him think of death, the biggest nothing of them all. He thought of the big nothing his life would be without William.
By the time William and Ian came in, he was crying.
Arms went around him and a low voice murmured comfort. He relaxed into the chest but the touch was all wrong. Ian smelled wrong. Chris took deep gasping breaths trying to bring himself under control, ashamed that he had behaved so badly and disgraced William yet again.
"Baby, it's all right. You cry as much as you need to. It's rough on you, I know, sugar." Ian's words formed a steady drone. Chris tried again with the deep breaths.
A light hand came down on his hair. "Chris," William said softly.
"I'm sorry, Master," he managed. Somehow the sobs seemed less urgent. He leaned on Ian but relaxed under William's touch.
"Darling boy, do you feel well enough to play? Or do we need to make ourselves comfortable and cuddle you?"
"I'm all right." Chris took a deep breath. This time it really helped. He wiped his face.
Ian held him until the last sobs stopped. "Chris, if you don't want to, we can wait."
"I'm fine." Chris didn't want to. He didn't want anyone but William touching him. But William wanted him to give Ian a chance.
"Here. I think he needs grounding."
Chris looked up to see William hand Ian a paddle. He smiled a little. Just one blow. That was all he needed. He craved it until he ached, the hunger and need surprising him. The night with the bullwhip had been much too long ago.
"Over the spanking bench, boy," Ian said, giving him a soft kiss.
Chris went, the command and sight of the paddle doing more to ground him than all the breathing he could muster. William sat in front of the bench to watch.
"Count them for me, boy," Ian said, his voice a solid command as he brought the paddle down sharply.
"One, sir. Thank you, sir,
" Chris said. He felt infinitely better. "Two, sir. Thank you, sir," he added when Ian struck him again. He didn't hurt. The paddle just warmed his ass. The fire would come later. Better, oh-so-much better. William had been too sick to play or even punish him. Chris needed the attention like he needed food, almost as much as he needed air.
After ten strokes, his bottom felt like it was glowing. Chris smiled up at William. William returned it. He stroked his crotch to Chris's surprise. The medicine destroyed William's sex drive, most of the time. He must be feeling very good indeed.
"Perhaps I should bring in someone just to spank you. You look so lovely when you're deep." The praise glowed even more than his ass.
"Boy, go to the wall and take the Whip position," Ian said, rubbing a gentle hand over his back. "You're grounded so you should find your space nicely now."
Chris rose gracefully and went to the wall. He planted his feet wide and braced with his hands, his bright pink ass on display. All the confusion of the last weeks had melted out of him. Maybe William was right. He usually was.
Master Ian came up beside him. His hands were cool and gentle on Chris's back as he felt Chris's shoulder blades and ribs. "You have safewords, yes?"
"Red and teddy bear." He made sure to give them in that order. The first would pause the scene long enough to correct the problem. The second would end the scene at once.
"All right." Ian shook out the elk-hide flogger and snapped it once. "Use your words if you need them. Count for me."
"Yes, Master Ian." Chris relaxed as much as he could and almost smiled when the flogger thudded across his shoulders. "One, sir. Thank you, sir."
The heavy elk-hide came down again and again. Chris realized he wasn't in the right head-space. He couldn't let go and ride it. He wasn't flying. The blows only hurt, with no pleasure behind them. The flogger hurt enough that he was crying. He almost never cried for a flogger. By the eighth stroke, he regretted the pizza. The tenth stroke landed badly, the edge of one of the blades slicing his skin. "Ten, sir. Teddy bear, sir."
Ian came up behind him and set the flogger aside. His cool hands moved over the unmarked places. "I'm sorry. Hold still."
Chris waited while Ian and William hurried to the first aid kit and came back with clean towels and bandages. "It's all right." He liked blood-play well enough but they hadn't negotiated for this.
"It's not all right. Chris, I'm sorry for the clumsy blow. William, I'm sorry I damaged your boy. Let me get him patched up. Do we need to call Mike?"
William shook his head. "No, I don't think so, as long as you can stop the bleeding. Mike will be in tomorrow. He can look at it then." He kissed Chris's neck. "You did fine, sweetheart."
Ian looked ghastly, sick at the harm he had done. Chris felt sorry for the little top. Accidents happened. "I'll be fine, Master Ian," he said. "Thank you." He would need a lot of cuddling tonight and hoped William might be up for some level of sex, or at least give him permission to masturbate.
Ian simply kept applying direct pressure until the bleeding stopped.
* * * *
The next day, Mike came in after breakfast time. Chris tried not to move gingerly as he cleared the table, but Mike noticed.
"You okay, Chris?" He sat at the table drinking coffee. He and William had just gone over a treatment plan. Chris had heard a bit of it. "You're favoring that left arm a lot."
Chris took a gamble. "I'm okay. A scene got a little intense last night."
"Let me see," Mike said, opening his bag. "Intense how? Dislocated? Bruised?"
"Cut, sir," Chris said without thinking. He had his shirt half unbuttoned before he stole a look at William. His master smiled and nodded. Chris stripped off his shirt and showed where Master Ian had cut him.
Mike undid the bandages and scowled a little. "Should have called me. I'd have come over and stitched you. Now you're going to scar. Sorry."
"We got the bleeding stopped, so I decided to wait until today. It's my fault," William said.
Chris stared, surprised at the generosity. "We can call you? Even for stuff like this?"
"That's why you got my number, kid. And especially for stuff like this. Let me wash up. You go lie down on your stomach and I'll stitch that up."
Chris went to sofa. William smiled from his big easy chair. They heard Mike scrub and then come back in, snapping bright blue rubber gloves onto his hands. He took a hypodermic out of his bag and Chris's eyes went big.
"I have to get a shot? It wasn't a rusty nail or anything."
"Is your tetanus booster up to date?" Mike raised an eyebrow at him and Chris did some fast mental arithmetic. He shook his head and Mike grinned. "Thought not. But not today. Gotta give you a local, kid. Otherwise it hurts like hell." Mike raised the sleeve of his Superman print scrub top and showed a long, twisty scar on his upper arm. "Got fragged back in Desert Storm. And our medic was out of Novocaine. So, I got a bullet to bite on and two gunnys sitting on me to hold me still." He swabbed Chris's back near the gash. "Just a needle stick. You've had worse, I'm sure. Breathe, find your space." Chris found himself slipping into subspace just from the calm confidence in Mike's voice.
The needle pricked his skin and he got hard from the sensation rather than yelping. He lay quietly, breathing, wondering how much of a top Mike was. Mike sent him into subspace with three words when even a spanking from Ian couldn't manage it.
A series of small tugs at his back, around the wound that no longer hurt, told him that Mike was stitching. He thought on the idea of him against the wall, Mike's big hands coming down hard on his ass. That just made his cock wake up even more.
"Ian Boyd, huh?" he asked William, careful not to disturb Chris's concentration. "He's usually okay. Bad throw last night?"
"Indeed," William said. "I had hoped..."
Chris relaxed under Mike's hands, not really listening, just letting the sounds of dominant voices wash over him. He'd not been this deep for a long time. Mike felt right touching him. He wanted more touches.
"Come up, boy," Mike said softly. "I'm done. You did just fine."
"Thank you, Master Michael," Chris said, adding the honorific automatically. He blinked a couple times, then covered his mouth.
Mike smiled. "It's fine. You went deep, didn't you?"
Chris nodded. He hadn't been that deep since the night with William and the bullwhip, weeks ago. He felt light in himself, almost floaty.
"Now, keep those stitches dry. I'll check them next time. When you need a shower, have William tape some plastic wrap over them."
"Yes, sir."
Mike left the instructions and checked William one last time before he left. Chris put his shirt on and went to sit at William's feet, a little disconcerted that he had gone so quickly and easily into subspace, with only Michael's hands and voice. It usually required pain, even from William.
* * * *
Mike came twice a week. William didn't have any more tops over for dinner or scenes. Chris liked his quiet life and looked forward to Mike's visits. His cooking improved even as William's appetite decreased. He hated the dark circles under his lover's eyes and the way the last hour until the next painkiller became an exercise in clock-watching.
One Thursday, Mike caught up with him in the kitchen. "He's in a lot of pain today, kid. I'm going to give him a shot. It'll put him out for about four hours."
"He's getting worse," Chris said softly. "He's losing weight. He's weaker and he sleeps a lot more than he used to."
Mike nodded. "Yes, that's how this progresses. He'll need full-time care soon." Chris looked away and said nothing. Mike laid a hand on his good shoulder. "Do you like pizza?"
Chris clenched his hands on the edge of the counter. "My lover is dying and you're asking about pizza?" Too well-trained to raise his voice, he let his anger come out as silent tears.
"Shh." Mike turned him around and folded him into a big, warm embrace. "I'm off after I leave here. I thought you could use some lunch and a chance to be out of the house
for a while."
Chris stayed in Mike's arms, feeling really at ease for the first time in months. Mike's strength held him up, the play of muscles under the shirt saying he didn't have to carry everything all by himself, at least for now. He cried a little more, leaving damp spots on Mike's Captain Marvel scrubs.
He finally got himself under control and nodded. "If Master says it's all right."
William cleared his throat from the kitchen door. Chris started guiltily, almost leaping out of Mike's arms, and rubbed away the tears.
"I think it would do you a world of good," William said, smiling at them. "Go on. Shoo."
Chris disentangled himself and went to William, dropping to his knees at his master's feet. "I'm sorry, sir."
William laid a hand on his head and stroked him. "Nothing to be sorry for, dearest. Now, if you two will put me back to bed, I'll take that shot, please, Mike."
"Of course, Mr. Davis."
Chris rose and supported one side while Mike took the other. William walked carefully, as if every step hurt him. They eased him to the bed and Chris helped him lie down as Mike went for his bag. William caught a missed tear by the side of Chris's nose.
"It's all right, my boy. This can't be easy on you. Take all the comfort you need, from anyone you need it from."
"Only want you, Master." Chris smiled as William pulled him down for a kiss.
Mike returned and waited. He smiled and took out the hypo. "Let's shoot you up so Chris and I can sneak off to the No-tell Motel for a secret rendezvous," he teased.
Chris stifled a laugh at Mike's silliness. "You rest, sir. I'll be home soon."
"I'll call if I need you." William's weak reach in the direction of the phone turned to a snuggle of his pillow that Chris knew well. He had spent many nights inside that snuggle and missed it now that William hurt too much to endure anything touching his stomach
"Yes, sir." Chris followed Mike out to his bright green compact car. The big nurse unlocked the doors and put his bag in the backseat.
"How do you like your 'za?" Mike asked as he buckled up. "And where do you like it from?" He put the car in gear and rolled down the drive.
Master Bear Page 3