He’d decided that while I was his slave, I’d stay here in his apartment and only go home to change clothes and check my mail. The problem was I lived much closer to Max’s studio in Tribeca, and the hike to work would be a pain coming from the Village, where Trent lived.
Just before bed, Trent placed a leather cuff around my right ankle and attached it to a chain hooked to the iron ring embedded in the bedpost. He said it was more symbolic than anything else, and then he went on to explain what was in store for me in the next few days. I was going to go to work as usual, but I’d have a battery-powered butt plug up my ass. The upside for him was being around to watch me. Trent would be able to monitor my discomfort, turning the switch off and on at different times throughout the day, teasing me with unexpected ripples of sensation. The downside was I would be wearing a cock ring and forbidden to come. The word “forbidden” had snuck into the conversation again, and I was starting to despise it. If I survived the next few days, and that was a big if, my life as a slave would end. Did it mean our relationship would revert back to its previous state? I doubted it. I had dug myself into a very deep hole, and seeking atonement and the same level of trust was unrealistic so soon after the betrayal. The best I could hope for was his renewed interest in continuing our arrangement.
Yet, through it all, I was optimistic. Even at his worst, Trent wasn’t so bad. He’d done an admirable job of controlling his temper and never once raised a hand in anger, which would have sent me out the door without a backward glance. Notwithstanding his warnings about holding back my orgasm, he’d caved and let me come. Clearly, he felt something for me, even if he used a gift as an excuse. I felt loved without hearing the words, and because he’d never voiced them, I didn’t dare. Being in a D/s relationship was like learning how to walk. I was in the crawling stage and hanging on to different objects to prevent myself from falling. I had no idea if Dominants ever said the L-word to their subs. One of these days, I’d have to pin him down and get some answers to the many questions bouncing around in my head.
Before falling asleep, Trent rolled over and kissed me good night like he’d done so many times in the past. It was the first time since the infamous funeral fuck, and it reduced my feelings of worthlessness. The clinking chain at my feet was a constant reminder of my current position, but the small show of tenderness put everything in perspective. I was still a key player in this partnership, and I believed I was as important to Trent as he was to me. Conversely, I was paying for my slipup in a way we both understood. There was nothing passive-aggressive about his methods. No hidden agenda behind sullen silences. That was Cole’s style whenever I’d screwed up in the past. Trent was straightforward and left no room for speculation.
The next day, when I was standing in front of the spotlights and holding a pose for Max, I felt the first tickle deep within my body. It was subtle, but it made me suck in a breath and frown, which pissed Max off because he’d just taken a shot.
“Hey! Cool it with the faces.”
“Sorry,” I said, looking over at Trent who was standing off to the side, grinning.
I stuck my tongue out at him, and Max yelled again. “Sloan!”
“Sorry!”
I put on my best game face, but the buzzing in my asshole was very distracting, and to make matters worse, I was getting a boner, which completely ruined the fall of my designer pants.
“I need a cigarette break,” I announced, walking away from Max who was cussing up a blue streak. I headed toward the staff lounge and lit up as soon as I walked through the door. This was the only place in the studio where we were allowed to smoke, and it was like walking into an opium den. One could get high just by breathing. Apparently, the cigarette of choice today was a good Jamaican blend.
The door clicked open and there was a warm breath against my neck. All of a sudden I was so horny I wanted to tear off the Armani suit, get down on my hands and knees, and throw myself at Trent’s mercy. I turned around and was face-to-face with my master’s shit-eating grin. “Are you having issues, Sloan?”
“You know damn well I am.”
“What seems to be the problem?” he asked, while he stuck his hand in his pocket and pressed the gizmo that sent a signal to the butt plug. It vibrated forcefully, and I would have come except the leather cock ring was strangling my expanding cock.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” I asked, frowning at him.
“Get over here,” he said, grabbing my hand and dragging me into the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, he locked it and unzipped, shoving his pants down his well-developed thighs. His erect cock gleamed with precome.
“Suck me off, boy.”
“You are evil, Master.”
“On your knees, Sloan.”
I adjusted myself, praying this would go well. “What happens if the cock ring cuts off all the blood supply to my dick?”
“I guess it’ll just rot and fall off,” Trent replied casually.
I knew he was joking, but the idea made me whimper out loud.
“The trick is developing mind control, Sloan. Force your cock into submission rather than be ruled by it.”
“Easy for you to say when I’m about to deep throat yours.”
“Consider this another life lesson.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and sang “Bohemian Rhapsody” in my head just as Trent shoved his cock down my throat.
Chapter 14
It had been almost a month since the twins were born, and each day brought revelations on parenting I’d never anticipated. A week after their birth, my mother and sisters returned to their respective lives, leaving Noriko and me to fend for ourselves. I’d taken a leave of absence for a semester, but I think I was more a liability than an asset. Daily, I was reminded of Sloan and his sarcastic comments a year ago. I knew nothing about infant care, and I admitted begrudgingly that without Noriko we’d be lost. She was an excellent mother and a kind and patient teacher. I refused to change their diapers, using my sight as an excuse. In truth, I couldn’t stand the smell, and the idea of leaving feces on their tender behinds, or getting some on my fingers, made me cringe. All I could do was hold one baby while Noriko wrestled with the other. I never realized how much babies cried. It bothered me more than I cared to admit, and there were days when I wished I was deaf as well as blind. The sleepless nights were taking their toll, and oftentimes I wanted to throw up my hands and give up. Lack of space was an ongoing problem, and I routinely tripped or walked into unexpected objects. Noriko was effusive with her apologies and did her best to straighten up the mess, but she could only do so much.
Niki had rapidly caught up to Keni in weight, so I would have been at a loss without the ID bracelets. Noriko called the boys Niki-chan and Keni-chan, attaching the affectionate Japanese honorific to their English names with the modified spelling. I had no objections. On the contrary, I was thrilled my boys would grow up bilingual. No one had bothered to hire tutors for me and my sisters, so none of us were fluent in Nihongo. What I knew had been gained as an adult because I’d shown an interest. Noriko was more than happy to further my language skills by speaking it almost exclusively here at home. She only reverted to English when there was no choice.
“Cole,” she said, “I think it would be nice to have a party after the miyamairi.”
“The what?”
“It’s the Shinto version of baptism.”
“Oh. I hadn’t really thought about religion in terms of the boys.”
“Don’t you think it’s important?”
“My parents were lapsed. However, I have no objection to raising them in the Shinto faith.”
“I think it’s important to give them a good foundation. What they choose to do as adults is none of my business.”
“I agree. What’s a miyamairi?”
“It marks the first stage of a child’s life. At thirty-one days, our twins are presented to a priest and a ten-minute prayer is read. Their names and date of birth are called out. Afterward, we give ou
r own thanks to the Shinto deities for blessing us with children. The next life stage is when they are three years old.”
“What about the party?”
“It’s our chance to introduce the babies to our friends.”
“Who were you planning to invite?”
“Your family, of course, and anyone else you like. Do you think Sloan would like to come?”
“Sloan wants nothing to do with me or the kids.”
“I find that very surprising.”
“Noriko, you know how we parted.”
“I have no hard feelings for him. Why can’t he move on?”
“He has moved on―with another man. The last thing he needs is a reminder of all the reasons we broke up.”
“Seeing the twins might change his mind.”
“Why are you pushing for this, Noriko?”
“I want you to be happy, Cole-sama,” she said softly, attaching the highly respectful honorific to my name. “I had hoped I could bring you satisfaction, in and out of the bedroom, but I have accepted the truth. My body does not entice you, despite my best effort.”
I felt the heat rising to my cheeks as I recalled her attempts to seduce me again. In the last couple of weeks, she’d come to my bedroom three times and had offered her body, coaxing me to have anal sex with her. If I could imagine she were a man by taking her from the rear, perhaps I might reconsider my no-sex policy, but the momentary pleasure had left a bitter aftertaste I had no desire to repeat.
“Noriko, I wish you’d stop trying to be the perfect wife. My position was very clear from the beginning. Don’t expect me to fall in love with you because Sloan is out of the picture.”
“Not love, Cole-sama, but perhaps we can develop affection toward each other.”
I could tell she was on the verge of tears, and I felt like a jerk. After everything she’d done for me, the least I could do was be her friend. “Come here,” I urged, spreading my arms apart. She stepped into my embrace and cried. I remained silent because I had no solution.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling against my chest. “I am the first one in my line to have children within a marriage. I had hoped to break the curse that seems to be hanging over the women in my family. My grandmother and mother were both single parents. I don’t want to go back to being a geisha.”
“You won’t need to work, Noriko. Ever. The settlement you receive will be more than enough to keep you in style if you invest the money wisely.”
“But I’ll still be your ex-wife. People will pity me and treat me like a failure.”
“Don’t you think it’s your perception rather than reality?”
“Oh, no, Cole-sama…My only hope to attain a different level in society is to be married.”
“I see.”
“You need someone to help you raise the children. Why hire a stranger when you can have their mother for free. Am I so repugnant?”
“No, you’re not repugnant at all. But I’m more gay than straight, Noriko. I can’t be your husband in the true sense of the word.”
“As I’ve said before, we Japanese don’t ascribe morality to sexual preferences. One has nothing to do with the other. Who you choose to sleep with does not need to affect your home life. I have no problem adjusting.”
“You’re giving me permission to have a male lover on the side.”
“Have as many as you need. Just let me stay and be your wife.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I know it’s hard for you to understand my motives, but if you really think about the future and try to imagine a life without a woman to provide for your children’s daily needs, you will realize I make perfect sense.”
“Sloan was insanely jealous of you.”
“He’ll get over it once you explain how things can be.”
“No, he won’t.”
“Then find someone else.”
“I don’t want anyone else.”
“Please, think about it,” she said softly, while leaving me standing alone in her bedroom with the tiny voices cooing in the background. Despite my words to the contrary, she’d planted a seed, and suddenly the possibility of a future where I could have the best of both worlds bloomed like a lotus flower. Getting Sloan on board was another hurdle altogether, but it gave me hope where hope had long since faded.
I went to hunt down my phone, and I picked it up, hesitating for only a few seconds. Sloan had been quite adamant about phone calls. I should never call him on a whim. Well, this was no whim. It was a life-altering decision, and it deserved a face-to-face conversation. I keyed in 911 and waited for a reply.
He didn’t disappoint. After about fifteen minutes, I recognized the ringtone.
“Sloan?”
“What’s going on?”
“We need to talk.”
“Is everything okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is this a fucking emergency?”
“To my mind it is.”
“What the hell, Cole?”
“Listen, we need to meet.”
“Why?”
“I have something important to discuss with you.”
“Is it life-threatening?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s hurt?”
“I refuse to discuss this over the phone. We have to meet.”
“I can’t be seen with you.”
“We don’t have to meet in a public venue. Come here.”
“No!”
“Don’t be difficult.”
“Look, you’re the one who wants to get together, not me. Either we do it my way or not at all.”
“What’s your way?”
“Meet me at Grand Central under the big clock.”
“Are you crazy? This is not a James Bond movie.”
“It may as well be.”
“Why? Is he going to beat you up if you tell him you’re seeing me?”
“We’re not seeing each other, Cole.”
“So I used the wrong word.”
“Be there in an hour―or not.”
“Wait!” I tried to stop him, but it was too late. He’d disconnected, and I sure as hell didn’t want to text or call back. He would go ballistic. But I didn’t want to make the trip to Grand Central with only Freddie by my side. I’d done it often enough in the past, but lately, Noriko had been walking with me, and it made me feel safer. Nevertheless, it was pretty obvious this was going to be a contest of wills, and I’d better do it Sloan’s way or forget about trying to win him back.
Chapter 15
I pocketed my phone as soon as I disconnected and rejoined the rest of the crew inside the warm studio. We were modeling cruise wear, and standing on the sidewalk on a cold January day in nothing heavier than a cotton Tommy Bahama ensemble bordered on madness. Planning to meet Cole without informing Trent crossed over the line to certifiably insane.
Why risk it? My relationship with Cole was over, and things between my master and me were almost normal. If Trent got wind of this meeting, all hope of a future with him would be obliterated. I knew he’d never give me another chance.
Yet I was the embodiment of the clichéd cat who met its untimely death due to curiosity. I had to know what possessed Cole to make the call and beg for a meeting.
Walking up to Max, I took him aside and asked for a three-hour break. “Why?” He frowned. “We’re on a schedule, and I need to be done by the end of the day.”
“It’s an emergency.”
“Who died?”
“Come on.”
“Are you about to do something rash?”
“Not that it’s any of your business.”
“But?”
“Cole asked for a meeting.”
“You idiot!”
“What if it’s important?”
“He’s about to yank your chain again, and you’ll lose a good man in the process.”
“Not if I tell him first.”
“You honestly think Trent will let you go and meet Cole
?”
“If I tell him where I’m going, it will prevent any issues.”
“Good luck, Sloan. The last time you were forthcoming, you spent several days in a cock cage.”
“This is entirely different. We’re going to talk.”
“In the same way you were going to offer your condolences?”
“Am I ever going to live that down?”
“I think it’s in the hall of fame for the World’s Dumbest Moves.”
“Fuck you, Leavitte.”
“You didn’t listen before, and if you persist, you’re going to pay big-time.”
“Are you advocating dishonesty again?”
“I’m telling you not to go. Case closed!”
“When was the last time I obeyed you?”
“You stupid son of a bitch.”
I pulled my arm out of his tight grasp and walked straight up to Trent. “I need to speak with you.”
“Sure.” He nodded, following me down the hallway and into the staff room. “What’s going on? I saw you having words with Max.”
“Cole just called.”
“And?” His frigid glare would have flash-frozen my entire body if that were possible.
“I want you to know I’m meeting him at Grand Central to find out what the hell he wants.”
“Did you pick the most crowded venue in the universe because you’re afraid you’ll succumb to his charms again?”
I sighed and automatically sank down on my knees and leaned against him. “I chose it because I didn’t want him to try anything.”
“He’s the one who instigated the funeral fuck?”
I looked up in surprise. “Did you think I made the first move?”
“Yes.”
I stood up quickly and pushed away from him. “Why did you assume that?”
“You’re more impulsive.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Cleave (Cutting Cords Series Book 3) Page 9