by M. Q. Barber
“I understand, Master Henry.” His student didn’t sound happy about it. He’d be reluctant to use his safeword if he thought doing so displeased his dominant, of course, but he seemed disturbed by a deeper fear.
Henry teased the thought forward until it took shape and form, shaded with nuances of Jay’s words and behavior over the last three weeks.
“I won’t leave you, my brave boy.” Stepping in front of his submissive, he cradled Jay’s chin and rubbed his thumb across soft, full lips. “If you speak your safeword, we shall stop until I’ve properly attended to your upset. I won’t walk out the door and leave you here alone. I won’t exile you to the truck bed.”
Jay watched him with trusting brown eyes.
“When we have addressed the trouble spot, we’ll begin again.” Explaining to Jay that trouble might require more than a single night to address would be sharing too much. As the dominant and trainer, he accepted the responsibility to make such determinations. For now, he emphasized the non-punishment nature of safeword use. “Nothing I do is intended to make you suffer. I wish to bring us both pleasure. Your use of your safeword will help me do that.”
Sinking in, the message painted Jay’s muscles in pliancy.
Delicious, the mixture of relaxation and anticipation in a submissive as he found safe harbor. The only trigger his dominant instincts required. “Now, tell me your safeword.”
Jay puffed out his chest. “Tilt-A-Whirl.”
The “w” pushed Jay’s lips outward like a kiss against his thumb. A natural motion. Fanciful to believe the younger man intended more. And yet. He breathed out slowly to clear his head.
“Very good.” He dropped his hand and stepped back. “I believe we’re ready to begin our game.”
He surveyed his partner with lingering appreciation. The night’s game encompassed two complementary goals. Showing Jay a submissive’s fun need not include lasting physical or emotional pain would be the easy part. Demonstrating Jay’s desirability without giving in to his own desire to take him? Hard. Well. Not yet, but soon enough. He suppressed a rueful smile as his cock twitched and silk slid.
“Do you know what I do for a living, my boy?” He inspected the musculature of his partner’s arm. Sleek and rounded. Not so pronounced as the muscles of his legs.
“No, Master Henry.” Jay spoke with gentle, attentive curiosity. He bore a student’s hunger. Enticing for one who loved to teach.
“I capture beauty.” In truth, beauty captures me.
“That’s a job?”
“It is for an artist.” Pausing his inspection, he met the boy’s watchful eyes with a smile. “And you radiate beauty inside and out. Tonight I want to bask in your beauty. Remove your shorts. Nothing about you is to be hidden from me.”
His command sent his sub into a flurry of motion. So eager. Nudity suited Jay, and he seemed to enjoy it. More than a few male submissives wore nothing but sandals and a ribbon in the halls.
Yet young Mr. Kress wore shorts, tight and revealing though they were. The choice might reflect the need for a layer of defense or a belief he must dress a certain way to attract a dominant. He couldn’t say what his companion had overheard or been told and taken for truth.
Jay handed over the shorts.
He laid them aside. Now nothing obstructed his view. He growled, a low, rolling pleasure.
Jay’s muscles tightened, the cheeks of his ass round and firm.
“Delightful.” He circled left, admiring the line of shadow gathering under the curving cheeks. “Have you ever been paired with another submissive for play?”
“Oh, yes, Master Henry. Sometimes”—rolling his ankles out and back, Jay bounced taller—“they’d let me watch them with their real sub.”
He stopped with an ungraceful jerk. Out of his student’s line of sight, thankfully. “A misunderstanding, sweet boy.”
Jay saw himself as second-best, a submissive of last resort. On the outside, exiled to watching the real game. No way to tell whether the doms he’d played with had intended to give such an impression or if his lack of experience and propensity for self-blame had played the larger role.
“More precisely, I mean has a dominant ever required you to service another submissive with your hands, your mouth, or your cock while he or she enjoyed the show.”
“People do that?” Excitement colored Jay’s tone, and a tremor ran through him. “No, Master Henry, I’ve never.”
Wonderful. Perhaps his new pet would enjoy being put to stud. If matters developed satisfactorily, he’d arrange an experience in a few weeks.
“Yes, they do that.” He circled back, keeping his distance to take in the angles of Jay’s shoulder blades. “I’m surprised you haven’t been asked. Your lovely lines and athletic grace make for a powerful visual feast.”
Lowering his voice, he let a half-measure of his desire out to play. “When you clench your ass, I cannot help but imagine you in full thrust, muscles flowing and hips writhing to deliver pleasure to an eager partner.”
Jay whimpered, a wild and hungry plea. He thrust his hips once and stopped short.
“Yes, just so. Your body an instrument for my enjoyment, moving at my command.” He paced far enough to bring himself even with his partner, into his field of vision.
Head bowed, eyelids flickering, Jay sucked air through his teeth.
Black silk shifted over his stiffening cock, the vision he’d intended the younger man to see.
“Quite arousing, your beauty,” he murmured. “A shame not to celebrate it, when it does so much for me.”
He cupped his groin and stroked upward. A single stroke, to demonstrate Jay’s desirability, the counterintuitive power of submission. Teeth clenched, he forced himself to let go afterward.
Jay’s low moan nearly upended his plans for the night. Want and need packed into a tight throat, and all of it his to claim. Ordered to the mat, his sub would obey without question. Take a face-fucking with pride if he presented it the right way.
Not yet. Imagination before action. Self-control. His promise to this inexperienced, vulnerable young man.
“Tell me about your homework, my boy. What have you been fantasizing about doing to me?” Knowing the door he’d opened, he anticipated the answer. “How do you want to serve me?”
“With my mouth, Master Henry. I think about blowing you.” Jay raced to get the words out. His cock bobbed, mute testimony to the strength of his fantasy. “I’ve been thinking about it every day this week and last week, too.”
Hard did not encapsulate the condition of his own cock. He ached. Every cell in his body ached with desire. A glorious pleasure, the sharp edge of need and the knowledge he might master it.
“When you imagine, do you see the same scene each time, or do the circumstances change?” Details mattered. If the young man had a specific sequence in mind, he would work to create the desired experience in truth. Receiving what he asked for would shore up Jay’s self-worth and make him more eager to engage in proper negotiation rather than accepting what was offered.
“Different, I guess, Master Henry.” Jay licked his lips.
Henry’s cock twitched.
“But you always. . . .” A light flush decorated Jay’s face.
“What do I always do?”
“You always say I did good. That you’re happy.”
Jay rocked on the balls of his feet, his legs stiff. The tension under his skin seemed alive, a ball of energy threatening to burst into motion at any time. Henry held his tongue. Chastising the submissive for the excitement in his very nature only taught him to hide his needs. Correction couched in control and praise would better serve.
“Mmm. Because you do make me happy.” He crossed in front of his pupil, noting the way brown eyes followed his steps, keen to keep his cock in sight. “Unlock your knees, please. Your health and comfort will fare better for it. I’d hate to have your knees damaged before I may judge for myself what you’re capable of doing on them.”
Wo
rking against his own instincts to please his masters might make Jay happy on the surface, but the ultimate end would crush him. Working with rather than against created a flowing harmony shared in the bond between dominant and submissive.
Jay’s knees unlocked. His stance grew more relaxed. The change heightened the vibrating tension running through him. Without rigid muscle control, his excitement manifested in delightful trembling.
“Thank you, my boy. Looking upon your desire is my prerogative. Controlling and satisfying you is my privilege. Part of the gift you give me.”
Jay lifted his head.
“Yes, I said ‘gift.’ ” He passed out of his partner’s sight.
Mr. Kress tolerated it well, with minor fidgeting. An improvement.
“As we are on the subject of gifts, I want you to tell me about the other half of your homework. Did you give thought to something you desire for yourself? What do you want your dominant to give you?”
“Yes, Master Henry. I, I like my homework. I know you said a toy or a role-play thing, maybe, but I”—Jay drooped—“I like having you say when and how.” He resettled his shoulders with an uneasy shrug. “I just like you saying what happens and me being your good boy. Is that okay? Can I just want that for now?”
The younger man ought to have had a gentle introduction to games. As he’d suspected, degradation and humiliation didn’t largely figure in Jay’s kinks. He wanted to surrender to a trusted partner who would watch over him. Who would make things easy with clear rules and limits.
“It’s a beautiful thought, my boy, and well-expressed.” He unleashed his pride in his voice. That Jay’s simple desires for security and stability shamed him rankled. Had he been given a proper introduction, a pleasure like bondage could have proven quite appealing rather than feared as a vehicle for pain.
“It—it is?”
Instruction and seduction unified. A potent fuel for his arousal. He’d climaxed in a solo session not fifteen minutes before Jay entered the room, part of his preparation, yet he’d hardened again faster than expected.
“You’ve given your homework sufficient thought to tell me five things about your desires, my brilliant boy.” Orgasm sans ejaculation crept up on him, a beating drum at the edge of his hearing. “I required only two.” If the boy continued to . . . to what, be himself? How could I ask him to be other? If events continued apace, he might yet reach said peak tonight. “You’ve exceeded my expectations.”
“I did?”
Confusion and wonder. Jay Kress would be the death of him.
“Mm-hmm.”
He hummed as he moved in. He’d rouse his partner to a state of raw need and encourage him to give a demonstration. A pop quiz for the work he’d practiced the last two weeks.
“Five things, my boy, you know about yourself and may share in a negotiation to ensure a prospective dominant will provide the experience you seek. I’m going to tell you what they are now.”
He stopped three short steps back. The distance allowed for advancement as he increased the pressure. The proximity permitted his words to sound in his submissive’s ears.
“I want you listening to my voice, Jay. I know you will, because I’ve asked it of you, and you want to please me.” He aimed to reassure, to affirm with both words and tone that wanting to please was a desired trait.
His submissive nodded, little more than an unconscious tic. He’d internalized the lesson and the acceptance. A promising sign.
“You’ve told me complex games and elaborate trappings aren’t necessary for you to enjoy yourself.” He seduced with a lilt of approval. “A simple game of control is appropriate to your fledgling steps here. You seek mentors who will expand your world with patience and care.”
Shifting closer, he studied Jay’s reaction. The trembling. The in-and-out of his ribcage as his breaths came quick and heavy. Anticipation. He permitted himself a smile.
“You’ve told me harsh games are not for you. A dominant needn’t layer shame or humiliation into a scene to heighten your pleasure. You aren’t a naughty boy at heart. Being forced into obedience doesn’t excite you, because you take joy in obedience for its own sake.”
A half step closer. More would strain his own control as he delivered his next words.
“You’re a good boy, Jay. A good boy who wants to show his master how good he can be.”
Jay tensed his shoulders. He exhaled in a shuddering sigh.
“You’ve told me that most of all, you want to give up control not for the helplessness but for the security. The dangerous thrill is not the attraction. Comfort and affection bound in rules to tell you your place, to assure you of your worth—these are the things you seek in your games.”
The enticement his submissive represented grew deeper with each revelation. Jay’s needs complemented his own. His cock jumped, sending ripples cascading through the silk swirling around his legs. The caress of fabric, sensuous though it was, failed to satisfy. A poor substitute for the image of Jay’s willing mouth.
“Three thus far, my boy. Three beautiful things you’ve told me about yourself tonight. Two left. More specific things you might ask for in a negotiation, hmm?”
No matter that part of him didn’t want his student engaging in negotiations with other dominants at all.
“You’re willing to take direction. To serve another sweet soul like yourself for the voyeuristic enjoyment of your dominant. You’ve a bit of an exhibitionist streak.”
He imagined the scene, a matched set, trained and responsive, their bodies moving as he guided them to fulfillment. His beautiful boy and a partner. His slow exhale gave his submissive a full-body shudder.
“I expect you’d like very much to please two others and yourself, taking pleasure in following commands, giving pleasure to your playmate, and providing pleasure for your master.”
Jay moaned, low and urgent.
He verged on saying too much, of pressing his own desires on his charge. He reached for the calm center he’d found when Jay’s knock rattled the door. Waited until he’d reached some semblance of it.
“Fifth and finally, my delightful boy, you’ve told me you want the fullness of a hard cock in your mouth. An intimate bond.” Not always, but it was a safe bet this submissive wanted it to be. He elevated the act to a form of worship in his fantasizing. “You want to serve your master with a personal connection. To show him with your lips and your tongue and the warm pull of your mouth the things you cannot say to him. The things you might be afraid to say to him. But you can show him, can’t you?”
“Yes.” Jay uttered fierce whispers between harsh breaths. “Yes, Master Henry.”
“When you’re on your knees and looking up at him, pleading with those wide brown eyes for the opportunity to bring him pleasure? When he slips his cock between your lips, he’s sharing himself with you.” He picked up his pace, words tumbling. A moment more, a gentle push, and he’d give his pet permission to take himself in hand. “He’s powerful and vulnerable all at once, isn’t he? Just as you are. How intimate it is for the two of you to be of one mind and one body. Accepting each other for the gifts you bring.”
Need burned in his veins. He drifted closer to his shaking submissive.
“I understand you, my boy. I see you for who you are.” He whispered into Jay’s ear, their bodies a scant inch apart. “And you are beautiful.”
As he closed the gap, clasping his hands around strong shoulders, Jay jerked.
Throaty whimpers sounded in the silence, wounded beauty, pain and relief. His submissive’s unexpected release spurted across the sheets.
From words alone. Voice and the barest touch, with two pairs of hands and neither anywhere near Jay’s cock.
Utter perfection. God himself couldn’t have delivered a more exquisite partner into his hands.
Intense satisfaction lasted mere seconds. Curling forward, hiding himself, Jay sank to his knees and babbled apologies.
Rarely did a moment call for indelicate langu
age, but if ever one did.... Fuck.
Regain control. Distract his sub, divert his attention to interrupt the cycle of shame, and only then return to question his reaction.
Henry followed Jay to the mat and embraced him. He took a slow, confident swipe along the underside of his submissive’s cock. Gathered evidence of pleasure on his index finger.
The apologies ceased.
He raised his finger.
The younger man turned his head and watched.
He’d succeeded in capturing his attention, at the least.
Holding his hand over the shaking shoulder, he sucked his finger clean with a satisfied groan. His arousal knocked against Jay’s backside, a visitor seeking entry with but a thin layer of silk to preach control.
He’d intended for his companion to come eventually. Jay finishing sooner than expected in no way diminished the success of the game. Besides, the night was still young, and so was the man. Mid-twenties, the prime of youth. He might yet put on another performance.
“An exceptional show,” he murmured. “Well done.”
“You aren’t angry with me, Master Henry?”
The wisp of fear in Jay’s voice swept his arousal aside. Reassurance ruled him now. His submissive needed a strong leader.
“Should I be angered by your enthusiastic response?” Clutching him close, he growled in his ear. “Angered you so gratify my ego as to come at the sound of my voice?”
He nuzzled Jay’s neck and smoothed his hair. “What is there to anger me in that?”
“But I came. That’s against the rules.”
A swift and silent review confirmed he’d stated no such rule this evening. “Whose rules, my boy?”
“I don’t”—Jay shrugged—“you know, the rules.”
Jay had served no long-term masters, but he behaved as if a dominant’s rules existed beyond a single night. He craved the continuity and stability of a relationship. Combined with an absolute lack of understanding of his own power, his need and obedient nature made him vulnerable. Ready to believe every word from another’s mouth and carry it over as gospel.