by M. Q. Barber
“You won’t make me serve him.” Not a shred of doubt in his submissive’s voice, thank God.
“You’re learning, my dear boy. No, I won’t let him touch you. I will, however, waste his time and teach him a lesson in manners, and do so quite happily.”
Perhaps Will would be free of an evening and join him for the meeting. His imposing bulk and steadfast loyalty had their benefits, if he reined in his temper. Brawling over this boy. Not useful, but emotionally satisfying. More useful—ah, yes. Later. When Jay had gone for the night.
He redirected the conversation to a more comfortable topic for his partner, questioning him about his use of the toy he’d been given last week and authorizing continued homework for the week. More games to help his student last longer. A suggestion to spend time fantasizing about women. Preparation for next week.
Sheets handed off, he accompanied Jay as he changed into street clothes and bid good night to him in the main lobby. The moment his submissive climbed into the back of a cab, Henry strode to the desk and inquired after one Bryan Talbot and the sponsor for his membership.
With stationery and a fine fountain pen he’d requested from the desk, Henry settled himself at a small table in the salon with a glass of iced tea.
Bryan,
It has come to my attention that you style yourself a master and abuse the property of others. How proud your uncle must be. Be assured, I am enclosing a copy of this letter in a note to him, as well, that he might reconsider sponsoring your membership here.
The boy Jay is mine. I will not tolerate trespass, whether it happens within these walls or without. You will not approach him again. You will not speak—
“Henry? May I join you?” Emma stood across from him, a rosy flush in her face.
He stood as well, gesturing with an open hand. “Please, sit.”
Her gaze flicked to the tabletop as she sat. A subtle smile flashed across her face.
“Speak, Em.” He took his seat. “You’ll choke on your self-satisfaction if you don’t.”
She laughed. “Victor has better things for me to choke on.”
The image flashed in his mind against his will. Not of Emma, enjoying her service, but of his sweet boy on his knees, vomiting with shame and disgust in a men’s room.
She fingered the edge of the paper. “Writing a love letter to your boy?”
“Wishful thinking, Em. No. A warning letter, in fact.”
“Preparing for Cal’s return? Much as the bastard deserves it, that’s a bit of wishful thinking on your part, don’t you agree, Henry? He’d hardly—”
“Not Cal.” He crushed the pen against his hand until his knuckle ached. “Another smart-assed little fuck who believes he can stick his cock wherever he likes and is about to learn differently.”
The pen ticked on the tabletop as he let go. Flattening his hand revealed the tremor in his fingers. “Pardon my language. I’m not quite myself at the moment.”
Emma laid her hand atop his. Warm. Small. Immaculate. A comfort, but not the one he most wanted.
“The boy?”
The boy. As if there were only one in all the world. Unique, and beautiful, and full of need. The perfect outlet for his craving to instruct and care for a partner. But Jay would outgrow his care. Wasn’t that always the goal and the fear?
“As well as I can make him for tonight.” Not so. He could have taken Jay home. Could be curled around him now. If he threw every standard for his own conduct out the window. If he made the mentoring relationship a personal one.
Personal, ha. He failed to fool even himself. The relationship had already strayed into overly familiar territory. Jay slept on his sheets nightly, for God’s sake.
“Let’s discuss something else, shall we? The boy’s training is private. Tell me what Victor did to put such color in your cheeks.”
She allowed the conversational diversion, as he knew she would, with the grace of precise training and the wisdom of longstanding friendship. Even as he listened, his traitorous thoughts remained with the boy.
Chapter 6
He dined with Jay a third time the following week. Tradition, now, to include a shared dinner in his plans every other week. Jay seemed in high spirits, sweet and smiling as he related how he’d spent the previous weekend.
Questioning his submissive about his workday inevitably occasioned bland, almost morose, replies. His leisure habits, however, spawned an endless stream of cheerful chatter, if one oft interrupted by anxious inquiries to be certain his babbling hadn’t displeased his master.
Henry took to making active inquiries himself to ease Jay’s doubt. Direct questions, quasi-demands for more information, kept Jay relaxed. Loose muscles and giddy eyes.
Outdoor athleticism proved the cause for the toned physique hiding beneath the fine suit. Young Mr. Kress feasted on a steady diet of biking, kayaking, and pick-up basketball all summer. His choices left him radiating health and vitality, intoxicatingly vivid and full of life.
Listening to the younger man, Henry marinated in arousal. While Jay had been riding a fifty-mile loop last Saturday, he had been preparing for tonight with an accommodating brunette.
Periodic glances to his left yielded the results he sought as Jay tucked into his dessert. The brunette—Naomi—approached the table and halted beyond the screen. At his raised eyebrow, she delivered a slow nod he returned. The room would be ready. The woman would be ready.
Would the boy be ready?
The first test came in the changing room as Jay reached for his shorts.
“No play clothes tonight, my boy.” He kept his voice calm and steady, firm but undemanding.
If Jay didn’t learn to negotiate up front, he’d have to negotiate each item as it arose. His dear one would challenge or submit—and reveal more of himself to his master with every choice.
“You’ll wear nothing but the red ribbon of my ownership.”
Naked and half-hard, Jay whipped his head up. “Nothing, Master Henry?”
“The required footwear, but nothing else.”
The club provided thin play sandals for those who preferred to go barefoot. Jay would be far from the only submissive to be so clad. Appreciating the beauty of the human form was part of the spectacle. For some, the enjoyment surpassed what might be found in a scene.
He himself received pleasure from the pairing. The static beauty of nudity or half-revealed flesh aroused. The dynamic beauty of emotional catharsis fulfilled. A gratifying combination, taken as a whole. And Jay, Jay brimmed to overflowing with the beauty of both.
Drinking such wine for a thousand years would not slake his thirst for it.
Jay hesitated with his hand on his armor. The leather shorts served as a security of sorts. The younger man had been nude when he’d first seen him, bound to the St. Andrew’s cross. His response here would serve as a gauge for how deeply he associated his own nudity with that painful vulnerability.
A minute passed. More. Jay’s hand didn’t budge. His arousal waned, a sign of thought taking precedence over the body’s demands, perhaps. Or discomfort. Time to offer his submissive an escape.
“If I demand too much of you, my dear boy, you’ve only to use your safeword.” He affected a casual tone. “Remind me of your word, please.”
“Tilt”—Jay cleared his throat—“Tilt-A-Whirl, Master Henry.”
Jay stuffed the shorts back into his duffel with his soon-to-be wrinkled suit. “I don’t need to use it. I’m not carnival sick. I just”—sandals scuffed at the floor—“just needed a second.”
“You’re my brave boy, Jay.” He stepped forward and clasped the younger man’s shoulders in a quick squeeze. “There’s no shame in needing a moment to dip into that reservoir of purity and courage within your heart.”
Jay stood tall and slung the duffel over his back. “I’m ready, Master Henry.”
The green-ribboned girl behind the desk leaned forward, peeking over the counter as Jay slid his bag across. Her breasts bounced on the
shelf of a slender blue-and-gold striped corset.
“No shorts for your boy tonight, Master Henry?”
Jay let the duffel go without hesitation.
“No, not tonight, Lindsey.” Running his hand down Jay’s back, he subtly felt for tension. None so far. “He keeps himself in such fine form, it seems a shame not to show him off a bit.”
“He’s a nice bit, sir.” She flashed a cheeky grin. “But he’s adorable with the shorts, too. I hope someday I’ll find a master to look at the way he looks at you.”
“The most important search of our lives,” he murmured.
Sighing, Jay leaned into his hand like a pup begging for another pat.
Henry blinked and wished the girl luck in her search. His hand moved without conscious instruction, stroking his partner’s spine. Longing filled him to keep Jay within reach. To roll over in bed at night and count the same vertebrae with his fingers.
They left the younger man’s kit at the desk and ventured up the stairs. Jay drew a commendable stream of admiring appraisals from afar.
“You, my beautiful boy, are quite the prize tonight.” He strolled with his submissive at his side, a leisurely promenade down the third-floor hall as if they had nowhere to be. Acclimating Jay to nudity in the crowd would ease the shock of being nude for a crowd of one later.
“Half a dozen dominants have inspected you from head to toe with envious eyes.” Here, Jay was one among many, a curiosity only for the novelty of a new beauty on display. The weight of expectation and performance was lessened. Once they reached the appointed room, he would become the focal point. Cause for nerves if he failed to accustom Jay to the idea now. “Do you know what thoughts zip to and fro in their minds?”
“No, Master Henry.” Jay glanced about, eyes searching beneath a bowed head, his demeanor respectful and unchallenging.
He halted and pressed a kiss to his companion’s temple. “That I am an exceptionally lucky man to have such a lovely and well-mannered submissive in my service.”
Jay leaned into his kiss. “But how do—”
“Henry! My goodness.”
He struggled to place the feminine voice as the woman neared. Poorly dyed blond hair drawn back in a severe bun. An executive’s suit, not formal or evening wear but business attire. A role-play kink for disciplining lazy corporate assistants and allowing them to make up for it with sexual favors. M-something. Martha. Miriam. Melody. Yes, that was it. Melody.
“Where have you been hiding this beautiful big boy?” She breezed to a stop close enough for the cloying scent of sweet jasmine to invade his nose. A girl playing at her mother’s vanity with no sense of restraint.
Jay ducked his head with a discreet choking sound.
“Melody.” He offered a short nod and a thin smile.
“Does he play private parties? I have a pool boy scenario I’ve been dying to try out with a few friends.”
He wouldn’t entrust a stable, fully trained submissive to this woman, let alone his delicate boy. If she couldn’t judge her perfume choices with restraint, where else did her incompetence extend?
“The boy isn’t available.” Curling his hand over the join between Jay’s shoulder and neck, he found his submissive inching closer as if they’d rehearsed the motion. “He’s in training yet. I won’t be letting him out of my sight.”
“Is that why he’s so fresh-faced? I could just pour him into a bowl and eat him with a spoon.”
Her covetous gaze hadn’t ventured near Jay’s face. She’d locked on to a region rather farther south. One experiencing a cold front, if he wasn’t mistaken. For me as well, my boy. But patience and forbearance served them all in such a small community.
“Yes, he’s an excellent pupil.” He tapped his fingers on Jay’s collarbone. “Jay, my good boy, practice saying hello to the mistress and then we’ll hurry along to your lesson.”
“Hello, Mistress. Thank you for noticing me.” Jay gazed at the floor, but he infused his words with a semblance of sincerity. “I’m honored that my appearance pleases you.”
Flawless. Jay handled introductions with ease. He’d done so the night Henry had ghosted his steps. The night the boy had agreed to be his.
In the moments after the initial greeting, when the contest for power began, Jay had cowered and stuttered and agreed without negotiating a single point. He’d have to be able to stand straight under questioning or the club would never be a safe place for him. He wouldn’t be starting with the likes of Mistress Melody and her intrusive, noisome predation.
“Well done, my boy.” He steered Jay forward before the woman took the moment to object. “Please excuse us, Melody. We’ve an appointment to keep.”
“Of course, Henry. Your boy’s just as beautiful going as coming.” Her laughter grated as her voice followed them. “Be sure and tell me when he’s out of school. Or before. Every good boy deserves recess.”
They’d gotten five steps before Jay’s anxious whisper reached his ears. “Master—”
“Not in your lifetime, my boy,” he murmured. “I’d triple-lock a chastity cage around your cock before I let that woman anywhere near you.”
Tension flowed out of Jay’s shoulders. “Thank you, Master Henry.”
“I do, however, have a much more suitable one in mind.” He stopped in front of a red-tagged door.
Now he’d see how well Naomi had followed his instructions. Well, he expected. Emma had vouched for her discretion. They’d met on three consecutive Saturdays to assess each other and negotiate the plan for the scene.
“I’ve a new playmate for you tonight.” He pushed open the door. A gentle tug served to bring his submissive across the threshold. “Shall we enjoy her together?”
Jay stared.
Henry closed the door behind them. The room approximated the dining and living area of a small home. Cozy, with a bland, monochromatic design in shades of rose. The slipcovered sofa offered variety in the form of pale gray.
The table, broad enough for six, boasted features unlikely to appear in most homes. Discreet anchor points underneath. Removable padded bumpers to cushion hips, buttocks, and thighs. Floor bolts for safety. The false light fixture above doubled as a restraint bar.
Jay, of course, stared at nothing so much as the naked woman standing at ease in the open space before the sofa. Tucking her arms behind her back had thrust her breasts forward, and the younger man fixated on them, his cock stiffening.
If Jay had a type, he’d at least provided a woman who matched it well enough. He laid a hand against his student’s back and rubbed a small circle on his shoulder blade.
Jay jumped, breaking his staring contest with the submissive’s chest. “Together, Master Henry? You mean me, too?”
“Of course. You’re my best boy, Jay.” He delivered the words with authority, leaving no room for doubt.
From Jay’s description of his previous encounters, he’d often been used as the warm-up to stoke a dominant’s desire for another submissive. An amusement cast aside.
Not tonight.
Henry wouldn’t take their temporary playmate at all tonight, though Jay would if all went well. She hadn’t so much as lifted her head at their entrance. She excelled at obedience.
“I’d be foolish to put you on the bench when your playing gives me so much pleasure.” Given Jay’s athleticism, the sports metaphor might do the trick.
Jay tipped his head, adorably uncertain. “It’ll please you if I play with her?”
He studied Jay’s cues. Judging by the full arousal and straying eyes, lack of desire wouldn’t be a concern. Perhaps his submissive sought reassurance that this treat wasn’t a trick? He needed more specific details of past experiences to better ascertain where Jay’s triggers lay, but shame so ensnared the younger man that digging out the information too quickly threatened to traumatize him.
A faint tan line ringed Jay’s bicep. Fingers trailing, Henry crossed the border from white-collar work Jay to playful weekend Jay. “Do you enjoy fo
llowing my directions?”
“I like it a lot, Master Henry.”
He curled his fingers around Jay’s, moving their hands as one. “Do you enjoy sexual play with women?”
Jay nodded. His gaze darted between their entwined hands and the silent woman.
Henry parted his lips in a coaxing smile. “Would you like to try both at once?”
Jay’s cock bobbed against his stomach, an affirmative response ahead of his, “yes, Master Henry.”
“Then yes, it would please me very much to watch my beautiful boy play with our new friend.” He brought Jay’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his palm. “Your body belongs to me, my boy. An extension of my own, hmm? If I am the painter, you are the brush and our feminine friend the canvas.”
Jay stood taller, thrusting his cock forward. “I promise I’ll always bring my ‘A’ game for you, Master Henry.”
“I don’t doubt it. I’m certain submissive Naomi will be well-satisfied with your effort, as will I.” He released the younger man. “Leave your sandals here, please, and go and stand in front of your playmate.”
Jay obeyed without delay, mimicking the woman’s at-ease posture. His bowed head would give him an excellent view of her charms, as hers would his in return.
Henry took his time removing his jacket and draping it over a chair at the table. Were Jay engaging in this sort of play with an unknown dominant and submissive pair, he would expect him to question safety and health concerns and run through each participant’s hard limits before outlining the type of experience they might create together.
He’d spent two Saturday afternoons with Naomi doing just that. She had a sharp mind and wasn’t shy about stating her interests. Most of them wouldn’t be indulged tonight. He’d delivered on his half of their bargain last Saturday. Overhead bondage. Nipple clamps. Light flogging. Orgasm denial.
The agreement hadn’t included sex. He’d stayed fully clothed the entire time. In return, she’d agreed to more vanilla games with his submissive tonight, including intercourse. Jay would have the opportunity to play with another submissive without being discarded as second best.