by M. Q. Barber
The emotional response he hoped for wasn’t immediate. Silence reigned for a long moment. He raised his arm in an embrace.
A hitching sob erupted. “Not always.” Jay mumbled, his voice thick. “Sometimes words don’t work.”
An exquisite swirl of joy and pain consumed his chest. He’d given Jay an opening to speak, to begin addressing the horrendous wrong done to him, and the young man possessed the courage to take it.
“No, sometimes they don’t, my sweet, brave boy.” He swayed, cradling his companion close. “Not because of anything the boy has done wrong. Any man or woman who ignores the power in that word is not a proper dominant but an abuser. The failure is theirs.”
He traced his fingers along Jay’s cock, the compression of the fabric keeping the younger man hard.
“I will always respect your safeword. Without anger and without blame, but with pride at your courage and understanding for your vulnerability in our games.”
Tears splashed his hand.
“M’sorry, Master Henry. Thank you, Master Henry.”
He stroked the taut skin of Jay’s balls to either side of the fabric dividing it.
Jay’s stomach jerked as he gasped. He exhaled with a soft moan.
“You’ve no need to apologize, unless you wish to use your safeword and have not done so.” His teasing fingerplay held his submissive’s attention. “Honesty demands no apologies.”
Associating pleasant physical sensation with difficult emotional release ought to encourage Jay’s openness and honesty. For his effort, the submissive would receive the physical release he’d earned.
“You have endured entirely too many unpleasant experiences in your explorations. Let’s imagine a better one together. We’ll construct a fantasy scene, and, if all goes well”—he squeezed—“you’ll christen these sheets before you take them home.”
Jay’s eager whine went straight to his cock.
“Close your eyes, please.” He’d intended to remove his shirt and slacks, but his partner’s need for his embrace trumped any urge to step away or delay the game. “Imagine you’re here at the club on a Friday evening but you aren’t seeking out a dominant.”
He rubbed the boy’s chest with his free hand, tracing the hints of sculpted muscle tone.
Jay dipped his head, but his eyes remained closed in perfect obedience.
“Tonight you want only to watch others’ scenes, and perhaps join in if invited. What color door cards are you looking for?”
“Green, Master Henry. So I can go in and wait for the chance to join.”
“That’s exactly right, my good boy.”
He slipped along the underside of Jay’s cock, massaging with an open palm. The cock ring’s embrace added to the submissive’s size and deepened his color. A captivating contrast, the pulsing aubergine across his own pale sand.
“You’ve wandered most of the night, searching. Waiting is difficult, but you want to be certain you find the right scene.” He scraped his teeth over Jay’s ear and delighted in the shuddering response. “You won’t be satisfied with a scene that fulfills only someone else’s desires. You won’t settle for a game that makes you uncomfortable. Only the best will do for my boy. Isn’t that so?”
“Only, only the best,” Jay repeated. His breaths came fast and shallow. “I won’t settle.”
“Wonderful,” he murmured. As a reward, he closed his fingers around Jay’s cock and began a slow, teasing stroke. “One door catches your eye, and you squeeze the handle—” He mimicked the action.
Gasping, Jay pushed into his hand.
“—and step inside.”
With his other hand, he circled Jay’s nipples. Tiny pebbles upthrust from a sea of flat stone, a chest of solid muscle wrapped in soft, inviting skin.
“Two players, a dominant and a submissive. The dominant—a woman? A man, perhaps?” He kept up his stroking, unwilling to clue Jay to his own preference. Let his partner give voice to his own fantasies.
“You.” Jay’s chest heaved. “I’m watching you, please, Master Henry.”
Growling, he tugged Jay’s ear between his teeth. “Me, then. I nod to you as you enter our game. Does my submissive notice you?”
Jay shook his head. He swallowed. “She’s only paying attention to you, Master Henry. You’re her whole world.”
She. Interesting. Because Jay enjoyed the beauty of the female form? Because he felt a female submissive wasn’t a threat to his own place as his master’s best boy?
“Perhaps she can’t see you, my boy. Her eyes might be closed or hidden behind the concealing darkness of a blindfold. Might she feel safest there, unseeing, anticipating the thrill of my touch?”
He interrupted his stroke to accommodate a swift brush against the younger man’s balls and the fabric pressing on the sensitive perineal raphe between.
Jay’s excited leap backward propelled him into his master’s groin.
Henry groaned at the all-too-welcome pressure and tightened his hand on Jay’s chest.
“She does,” Jay enthused. “I know she does. You make her feel so special, Master Henry.”
Jay’s confidence and trust staggered him. He thrust once against the submissive’s backside, slacks rough against the head of his cock as he pushed through the flap in his boxer shorts.
“You’ll stand to the side and take yourself in hand as I give her my fingers.”
If Jay didn’t yet understand he had choices beyond begging for a dominant to serve and accepting whatever offers resulted, he would by the end of their time together. He’d be damned if he’d see this sweet boy go running back to Calvin Gardner in a month’s time because he thought it the only way to experience the club—or punish himself for needs and desires that frightened him.
“There is no shame in enjoying her pleasure and your own, hmm?”
“She wants more than your fingers, Master Henry.” Jay squirmed, the better to feel him, perhaps.
He thrust again, fingers moving faster over Jay’s engorged cock. “Then I will provide what she needs, won’t I? While she begs for it with such delightful urgency, shameless in her desire to be fulfilled as she submits to my touch.”
Nodding, Jay rocked against his lap. His upturned feet rested beneath Henry’s thighs and buttocks, so tight the fit and so narrow the gap between them.
“No shame,” Henry repeated. “Only her joy and her arousal and her trust that I will care for her needs. Shall I turn her to face you so you might watch her beauty as I take her?”
“No, please.” Jay shook his head, but his hips kept their speed.
He added pressure to his grip as he prodded at his reticent boy’s answer. “Cover her on all fours, draping my weight across her back? Is that how I take her?”
“Face-to-face.” Jay gasped the words with a low whine, his climax near. “I want, I want you to take her the way I dream you take me.”
He fought not to come in his slacks as the image flashed. Jay, naked, writhing on his back, his cock eager and straining as he was penetrated in his master’s bed. On the very sheets they knelt upon now. Yes, God, yes.
“On her back, then, with her legs clinging to my hips and my mouth at her breasts until she cries out her satisfaction.” He clutched Jay’s chest and deepened his voice, every word swathed in possession and command. “But I haven’t finished. I crook my finger to my good, patient boy and slide my cock free, hard and wet with my girl’s pleasure. Will you taste? Will you drop to your knees and suck me dry?”
Jay babbled as he came, his release soaking the sheets in long arcs as he cried yes and please and master.
Henry drew out his strokes until his submissive could give no more.
Satisfaction flooded him at his success in having Jay take part in describing his own fantasies. A step on the path to self-understanding, self-acceptance, and negotiation.
But his cock throbbed with relentless pressure. His body wouldn’t stand for this pace. Either he must find other methods to guide his studen
t’s lessons, or he’d have to allow for his own satisfaction at their next encounter. He’d been too close to spilling tonight.
“That was amazing, Master Henry!” Tossing his head like a fractious colt, Jay blew out a breath. “I never stay hard that long or shoot like that. I dunno if it’s your hands or your voice, but it feels so good.”
The warmth of the younger man’s giddy excitement washed over him and overflowed in a mellow laugh. These moments of post-orgasmic bliss seemed the best glimpse of Jay’s true nature he’d seen, all uninhibited joy and motion.
He cuddled his partner even as he eased his own hips back. “Impressive work indeed, my boy. I suspect your new toy played a role as well. I’ll allow you to take it home, but you must promise me you won’t experiment beyond the rules I set.”
The supportive constriction, worn loose enough, could snuggle Jay’s cock all day, but he wouldn’t set a precedent lest the boy think to purchase his own ring in a different style and end up requiring a trip to the emergency room.
“I won’t, Master Henry, I promise.” Tipping his head back, Jay opened his eyes. Shy delight poured from his face. “I like following your rules, Master Henry. I think about them when you aren’t with me, and I remember I’m your good boy.”
Resistance impossible, he lowered his mouth and caressed Jay’s tongue. Their kiss soothed the urgent need in him, a slow and gentle reminder that this young man worshipped him. To take advantage of that trust to sate his own needs would be a sacrilege of their relationship to one another. “My very good boy.”
He spent the rest of the night demonstrating the toy and detailing rules for its use in homework until Jay’s ability to put it on and take it off satisfied him. Young Mr. Kress went on his way with his new toy and his master’s sheets and the promise of another meeting in a week’s time.
Only then did Henry lift the sheets the boy had left behind, the ones they had each used for a week. Raising them to his nose brought Jay’s scent to him, the woody musk of his arousal.
Relief refused to wait.
Taking himself in hand, he stroked his cock to a speedy climax in the sheets and growled his ownership to an empty room.
Chapter 5
“I’m concerned about his readiness, Victor.” Henry ran a finger along the edge of the bookcase. Spotless. Em would be horrified if guests found her master’s office in less than pristine condition.
“Cal will return in a month, and the boy may not be emotionally prepared for that.” Some rule, some bylaw must exist to make a delay possible. They’d barely touched upon the issues and misunderstandings that had put Jay in Cal’s hands to begin with. “Is there no way to extend his suspension of privileges?”
Victor sighed. “The board has already ruled on the incident—”
“The assault.” He stared down his mentor.
The older man shrugged. “The boy refused to label it such.”
“He was too intimidated to help himself.” Jay would be still. The worry kept him up at night. A moment out of his sight and anything might happen. God forbid he found him in worse condition next time.
“Yes, and you’re helping him overcome that. But there’s nothing to be done about Calvin.” Victor rubbed at his gray-flecked beard. “I cannot bar the doors against him, Henry. He’s a dues-paying member. He is guaranteed the same rights you are.”
“He doesn’t deserve them.”
“No.” Victor coughed and swatted his desk. “He deserves to have his hands slammed in a car door. A mishap that would sadly leave him unable to wield a whip properly for months until the breaks healed.”
Violence surged in his blood, a fleeting desire to see Calvin Gardner broken and begging to apologize to his sweet boy. Swallowing hard, he forced it back. “You know I wouldn’t advocate nonconsensual violence against anyone¸ Victor. Whatever the provocation.”
“No, I know, Henry. My wife is more bloodthirsty.” Pride warmed Victor’s voice. “Motherhood seems to have brought it out in her.”
“She’s been mothering my boy like he’s one of your former pets. Are you aware she—”
Four raps sounded at the door.
“Enter.”
Emma stepped inside, her heels clicking as she approached Victor’s desk and knelt.
Victor laid his hand on her bowed head. “Speak, beloved.”
“Master Henry’s boy is here, husband. The standing order is to inform him of the boy’s arrival.”
“But not, it seems, when one takes his boy shopping.”
Mild as Victor’s words were, Emma flinched.
Victor winked as he waved toward the door. “Go on, Henry. Enjoy your evening. Emma and I are overdue for a discussion regarding what it means to suggest one has permission from another master to chaperone his submissive for a day out.”
“Ah.” He nodded to Victor. “An enlightening discussion, I’m certain.”
Emma, he expected, was in for a long night. She’d no doubt enjoy every moment.
Jay fidgeted beside the desk, stepping away from each new arrival and keeping his head down. Waiting for Em to return, perhaps. Had she told Mr. Kress he was here or left him to wonder?
“Jay, my good boy.”
Jay jerked to attention, the duffel slung over his shoulder banging against his back. “You’re here.” He breathed the words like a prayer. “Am I late, Master Henry? I’m sorry—”
He shook his head, cutting off the apology. “No, my dear boy, you are quite prompt.”
He rounded the desk for a better look at him. Not straight from work, judging by the comfortable jeans and t-shirt. Either Jay felt more relaxed and able to be himself today, or he’d lost interest in looking special for his master. Given the fidgeting, the former wasn’t likely. Given the worshipful stare, the latter wasn’t, either.
He’d seen this behavior often in female subs. The desire to go unnoticed, to avoid calling attention to oneself as an attractive sexual creature, inevitably accompanied a lack of self-worth. Something had upset and devalued his boy, unless this was extended fallout from his assault.
Pushing the thoughts aside, he projected a smile for his student. “Do you have your ribbon?”
Jay raised his hand, the emblem of his service clutched in his fist. “Yes, Master Henry.”
“Wonderful.” He tested his submissive’s responses with a light brush along his arm.
Jay leaned into his caress.
Whatever afflicted the younger man, he found comfort in his master’s touch. Well. Henry had all night to tease the answer out of him and resolve it, should the issue prove problematic.
“Upstairs we go, then, hmm?”
“Yes please, Master Henry.”
They’d almost reached the staircase when a man called his name. Hurrying over from the entrance, trailed by a submissive, the man hailed him with a wave.
“Master Robert.” He inclined his head, a nod of mutual respect. The dominant was young, no older than Henry’s boy, but he’d shown a level of proper attention to his girl’s needs.
“Master Henry, I’m so glad we ran into you. I wanted to thank you again for your help.” Robert squeezed the lush brunette to his side. “My little trinket is enjoying her whippings so much better since you demonstrated the looser grip and the smooth roll.”
Jay’s flinch demanded immediate intervention. Henry laid a hand on his back and rubbed slow circles.
Robert remained oblivious to the subtext. “We’ll be up on three tonight, and I know my trinket would be honored if you’d attend to see how well she does.”
The girl nodded, her head bowed but her excitement obvious in the strength of her nod and the tight nipples beneath her shirt.
“I appreciate the thought, Robert, but I must decline this evening.” Ruffling Jay’s hair, he pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “My attention belongs to my good boy. I’m certain you understand how important our promises are to those who depend upon us.”
“Of course.” Robert took t
he response in stride, though his girl’s shoulders sagged.
“Another time, perhaps.”
Nodding, Robert squeezed his girl. “Come along, little trinket, and we’ll get you your pretty ribbon.”
“Up the stairs, my boy. We’ve games of our own to play.” He prodded Jay to precede him so he might watch his posture. Subdued, now.
He watched and waited, biding his time until they’d entered a private changing room. Jay hadn’t spoken a word, but that itself wasn’t unexpected. The true clue lay in the lack of nervous excitement and the slump in his grace.
As Jay unzipped his duffel, Henry seated himself on the spare bench. “Remind me of your safeword, please.”
“Tilt-A-Whirl, Master Henry.”
“You understand you may use it at any time?”
“Yes, Master Henry.”
Jay laid his play shorts on the bench beside his open duffel. A corner of fabric peeked out of the bag. Pale gray. The soft cotton sheets he’d lain in before sharing them with his submissive.
“Then tell me what weighs on your mind.” A flashback to Jay’s own whipping, he expected. A straightforward approach might work, if Jay truly trusted him. “What caused your flinch downstairs?”
Still in his street clothes, Jay sank to his knees without being told. “You whipped that girl, Master Henry?”
The pain and confusion in the tenor voice settled under his ribs with a sting not unlike the whip he’d wielded. The first crack cut through the boy’s hero worship. Now Mr. Kress would see his dominance, too, in the shadow cast by the whip. The inevitable, necessary end loomed before him. Fallen.
“I did.” He willed himself to patience and calm, giving Jay the time he needed to articulate his thoughts.
“You’re good enough at it that people want your advice.” Not quite a question, but confusion yet clung to the boy. He worried at his jeans with trembling fingers.
“Some of them do, yes.”
“You haven’t whipped me,” Jay whispered. A shudder ran through him.
“No, I haven’t.” He maintained a neutral tone even as his hopes rose.
Nerves showed in Jay’s demeanor, but new territory always carried a current of trepidation. Would he take the next step and vocalize his refusal to play a game? He’d done so with prompting in abstract, hypothetical cases on their previous nights.