A Russian Bear

by CB Conwy

  Mischa had stopped at the university to drop off Tom, who had his last class this week. Mischa had promised him a scene tonight to celebrate getting all of his work done. If it had been any other sub, Mischa would have called it a reward. Somehow, that didn't seem appropriate with Tom. He wasn't a timid little boy who needed reassurance to do well. He was a man, strong and sharp and sexy.

  And now Mischa was doing it again. Toby would rip his ass for it. Mischa sighed and parked his car.

  The café was busy, but Toby was in a booth in the back, giving them some privacy.

  "Mischa! I'm glad you could tear yourself out of your woods." Toby smiled, and Mischa couldn't help doing the same. He did like Toby.

  "Well, I'm making a lot of money for my clients in those woods, you know. Good to see you, Toby." They hugged.

  "Same here. I haven't seen you for almost a month. I guess you've been busy?"

  Here we go, Mischa thought. He refused to take the bait, though. "Yes, the market keeps me on my toes at the moment." Luckily, the waitress came to take their order, rescuing him. For about half a minute.

  "So, the young man at the party -- what was his name?" You could almost believe that Toby really had forgotten and didn't tease. If you didn't know him as well as Mischa did, that is.

  "His name is Tom."

  "That's right. The boy with a name."

  "He's not a boy." Fuck.

  "No?" If Toby's eyebrows went any higher, they would disappear into his hair and be lost forever.

  "No."

  "I see. The not-a-boy, with a name. How did you find him? I haven't seen him around."

  "He's new to it. We met at the bar where your friend's sub stood me up." Listen to Mischa give out as little information as possible.

  "And now he's staying -- for more than a month? That's a first."

  "He isn't staying permanently, his apartment is just being cleaned, and it's only for ten days."

  "He's actually living with you?" Toby looked crestfallen. Oh fuck. Toby hadn't meant stay-stay.

  "It was that, his mean sister, or the faculty library. It's not like I don't have the space." Mischa knew he sounded defensive.

  "He's a college student?" The waitress stared disapprovingly at Toby when he shouted, putting down their food and disappearing again. Toby dropped his voice.

  "You're living with a college student?"

  Mischa took a deep breath. Obviously, saying as little as possible didn't work that well for him. He had to study Tom to learn how the boy did it.

  "He took a year off to work, and he's almost finished his master's degree, but apart from that, yes, I'm temporarily living with a graduate student." Toby made it sound like he was dating an eighteen-year old who lived with his parents.

  "And that makes him all of, what, twenty-five?"

  "Twenty-six." Mischa refused to apologize for this. He started eating, trying to deflect any more questions. Toby was unflappable, though.

  "My hardest player has gone and fallen in love with a man fifteen years his junior." Toby didn't even sound teasing, just like the man didn't know whether he should be in shock or wonder. Mischa didn't think it would be of any use to point out that it was only fourteen years. He was so screwed.

  "You're so screwed."

  Mischa couldn't help but laugh. "I might be." He shrugged. "What can I say? I like what we have. I don't know if it's going to last, but so far, it's been good."

  "I never thought the day would come when a sub would catch Master Mischa's heart. Is he the perfect little subservient boy, or how did he manage to do it?"

  Mischa snorted against his own will. "Not so subservient, no. He's confident and opinionated and not afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. But when we're playing, he's so fucking responsive to everything I do to him. It's... good." It sounded lame even to him. Well, the alternative was worse; Mischa refused to be sappy.

  Toby's eyebrows were doing the almost-escape once again. "It sounds good. I just never had you down as the type to fall for a twink."

  "He's definitely not a twink!" Mischa laughed. "He might look that way, but he isn't. Outside the playroom, he's my equal, and that intrigues me. I want to be with him." If there was one thing Mischa had learned from Tom, it was to stand by his choices.

  "Does he want to be with you?" Toby didn't sound teasing, just curious.

  Mischa shrugged. "Time will tell. Right now, it's really good."

  "Are you going to make a contract with him?"

  "I don't think he's a contract guy." Mischa hadn't thought about it before, but he was still quite sure. "It's just not his style."

  "Because he can't keep his dick in his pants?"

  Mischa had to take a deep breath and remind himself that Toby was doing this because he cared for Mischa.

  "No, because he's not into that. And don't imply something like that again, Toby." Mischa kept his voice low, even.

  Toby wasn't intimidated. "All right. He didn't seem like the type, either, but you know that I'm looking out for you, Mischa."

  "You are. Whether I want it or not." Okay, that sounded grumpy, but Mischa couldn't help it. He wasn't used to being someone in need of looking after.

  ***

  They had had a nice lunch, though, and Mischa was in a good mood when he picked up Tom at the university. So was Tom. The boy flung himself into the car, kissing Mischa on the cheek with a smack.

  "You're cheerful." Mischa smiled; Tom radiated joy.

  "You bet. The week from hell is over, and I didn't kill any students and didn't even flunk that many. I had the usual whiners, but I'm not going to be pushed into changing any grades just because they want it."

  "You have a lot of those?" Mischa pulled out and started driving toward the road out of town.

  "Not a lot, but there are always some that try. I even had a girl once who came in wearing a skimpy top and pleaded with me while leaning forward. A lot." Tom wrinkled his nose.

  Mischa chuckled. "God. What did you do?"

  "Told her I was gay and that she would get a lot further by using her brain and a dictionary while writing her papers."

  Mischa laughed. "And it didn't get you in trouble? I thought universities were quite sensitive about potential harassment complaints."

  "They are. I told the head of department right away, just to be sure. She didn't complain about me, but it was a lot of help to my colleague when she tried the same trick on him and then accused him of sexual harassment. They disciplined her, and she dropped out."

  "They should. It's a serious accusation."

  "It is." Tom was serious for a moment, then he returned to his former happy mood. "Did I tell you that I met with my advisor? He'd already skimmed my paper and was really enthusiastic about it. He even talked about trying to get it published."

  "That's great!" Mischa reached over and squeezed Tom's shoulder. Tom grinned, looking so happy. "Now we have another reason to celebrate. Have you thought about what you'd like to do?"

  Tom blushed and ducked, but still looked happy. "I think I want the whole thing, you know? Like in the beginning. Stripping in the hallway, doing what you tell me to. I would love a paddling. Oh, and a fuck. And..." Tom laughed. "Okay, I guess it wouldn't be obeying if I gave you exact orders beforehand, would it?"

  Mischa smiled and let his hand glide down to Tom's thigh. "You can always ask for things. Whether you actually get them is another matter." Tom sighed and leaned back, taking Mischa's hand. They were quiet the rest of the way to Mischa's house, but it was a comfortable silence.

  Mischa could get used to this. He really could.

  ***

  Tom jumped out of the car, eager to get into the house. Mischa stopped him, though, turning Tom so Mischa could look at him.

  "You know that you don't have to do this, right?"

  Tom had no idea what Mischa was talking about. Obviously, it showed on his face.

  "If you only want what we've had the last couple of days, then it's okay. I won't make you do this if y
ou don't want to."

  Tom shook his head. "Sometimes you're really... Well. It goes like this: I want this. I even think I need it. I also want and need what we did last week, and I don't see why we can't have both." He suddenly went cold. "Unless you don't want to do this anymore?"

  "Fuck, no." Mischa never cursed. Now the man grabbed Tom's face, looking into his eyes. "I want you. A lot." Mischa kept staring, exuding power and control. Tom felt his shoulders relax and his pulse go up until he was in that strange state which combined peace and excitement.

  "Please, take me inside, sir."

  Mischa smiled, a triumphant smile. Then the man reached down and took hold of Tom's hands, put them behind Tom's back, and marched him into the house like that, walking behind him and holding him tight. Tom couldn't keep back a strangled sound.

  In the hallway, Mischa stood in front of Tom, arms crossed over his chest. "Undress." Tom fumbled with his clothes, managing to get naked. His dick was hard.

  Mischa saw it and smiled. "Stay here. Don't move." The man left, and Tom felt much more naked standing there alone. When Mischa was there, he just obeyed. When his Dom left, Tom had to acknowledge that he did this because he wanted to. For the first time, the thought didn't make him blush -- it just made him harder.

  "You'll need this." Tom jumped; he hadn't seen Mischa return. Mischa stepped in close and wrapped a leather strap around Tom's cock and balls, making him gasp when Mischa secured it.

  Mischa stepped back, watching Tom again. Tom almost took a step forward; Mischa looked so sexy. But he managed to control himself until Mischa allowed him to move.

  "On your knees. Suck my cock." Tom let himself fall to his knees before Mischa had finished speaking. His hands were shaking, and he couldn't get the trousers opened. Finally, he managed, and with a whimper, he took the hard cock in his mouth.

  God, this felt so good. He looked up at Mischa while he let his tongue glide around the heavy head, licking the slit. Mischa moaned, eyes never leaving Tom's. Tom took more, fighting his need to gag. Mischa pulled his head back, and Tom gasped for air.

  "Easy, boy. Breathe." Tom obeyed, looking up at Mischa. He spread his knees, opening himself up even more for his master. Then he dove right back in, bobbing his head up and down. He could take a little more every time, and he started playing with Mischa's balls. Mischa pulled on his head, forcing him to take more. He swallowed around the thick cock, taking it into his throat and making Mischa moan. Then back out to play with the head, letting his tongue glide around and find the slit, fucking it with the tip of his tongue.

  Mischa groaned and grabbed Tom's head, forcing his dick all the way down. Tom swallowed and swallowed, fighting to take it, and Mischa shouted while he came down Tom's throat.

  Tom was gasping when Mischa finally pulled out, swaying a little. Seeing that felt so good; he had made Mischa feel like that.

  Mischa pulled Tom up, kissing the boy deeply and licking the last of his come out of Tom's mouth. Tom moaned, rubbing against Mischa's hip. He hadn't known until now how hard he was. Mischa grabbed Tom's balls and pulled down, making him jerk.

  "Oh, no, you don't, boy. There's a reason why you're wearing a cock ring. We haven't even begun yet." He pulled one last time, making Tom grunt. Then Mischa put Tom's hands behind his back like before and marched him into the playroom, letting him stand right inside the door. He leaned in, whispering in Tom's ear. "Remember your safewords, boy?"

  Tom nodded, Mischa's breath and the man's words making goose bumps spread on the back of his neck. "Yes, sir. Red and yellow."

  "Good boy." He kissed Tom's neck, so gently. Then Mischa grabbed Tom tightly from behind, roughly lifting him up and dragging him toward the flogging bench. Tom shouted, the fear from the sudden move making him fight to get loose. Mischa only tightened his hold.

  "Fuck!" Tom tried to fight back, using his legs against the table to prevent Mischa from doing this to him. It was of no use; Mischa was going to do exactly what the man wanted to Tom. The thought made Tom's cock so hard that he was grateful for the cock ring.

  He still tried to wriggle out of Mischa's grip, the feeling of Mischa's arms around him intoxicating. It didn't do him any good, though; he was slammed down on the flogging bench, the breath whooshing out of him. Mischa used all of his weight to pin Tom while he strapped Tom's arms down tightly. Then Mischa pulled back and secured the rest of the straps, preventing him from any movement. Tom fought and whimpered, needing more feeling.

  The first slap came totally out of the blue, making Tom yell and tense up. The next followed before he even realized that it was a paddle. This one was hard and the blows were stinging, making him grunt and writhe when Mischa set up a steady rhythm.

  The pain was stronger this time, and Tom struggled to keep up with it. He had almost managed it, and then Mischa hit him on his legs, on his hips, and one time so close to his balls. It made Tom lose his control, and he gasped, jerking in his bonds.

  Then Mischa started slapping him on the exact same spot on one ass cheek, making the pain grow and grow until Tom screamed with it. Mischa let up, only to start all over on the other cheek. It was too much, the sting growing into pain and then into something he couldn't handle.

  "Yellow! Yellow." Tom gasped, trying to catch his breath. Mischa immediately stopped and leaned in, reaching for the cuffs.

  "No! No, just... I just need a minute." He looked up at Mischa, pleadingly.

  Mischa kneeled, caressing Tom's hair and kissing his forehead. "Like this?"

  Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yeah, like this." He let himself sink into the gentle kisses that Mischa planted all over his face, the Dom's lips soft and unhurried.

  "Better now?"

  Tom opened his eyes. "Yeah. The pain just got to be too much for me." He felt a little foolish but refused to be ashamed. He had needed the break.

  "Okay. Let's continue."

  Tom blinked. He guessed that Mischa was serious when the Dom said that "yellow" was only a slow word.

  Tom grunted when the next slap hit him, his jaw tight to keep the sound in. "Oh, fuck. Still stings, sir."

  "Of course it does." Mischa hit him again. Tom hissed.

  "Let me hear you. Use your voice." Tom didn't try to restrain himself any longer, he just let it out. The pain was still bad, but somehow he could do it now. It hurt, and he yelled and begged, but he could do it. Mischa let up a little, and the pain changed and Tom soared on it, his entire body singing with it. He was hoarse and sore and so exactly where he needed to be.

  Tom was so far gone that it took a while to register that the slaps had stopped, that he could feel Mischa's fingers in his ass. He whimpered, didn't know what to do.

  "Shh. You're okay." Mischa pushed into him, filling him deeply. Tom was so full and it hurt a little at first and even so, he had never felt so complete. He relaxed, taking what Mischa gave him. The thick cock pushed into him again and again, and it went on forever. His ass started to hurt, and still he didn't want it to stop. In the end, Mischa found his prostate and kept slamming into it, making Tom grunt and scream until Mischa undid the cock ring and finally, finally let him come. Tom convulsed, his balls trying to turn themselves inside out as the seed shot out of his cock. He could hear Mischa roar, feel the man's big cock push all the way inside Tom, hurting him so good. He let go, sliding down. Let go.

  ***

  It wasn't until much later that he heard Mischa.

  "Tom? Tom, come on, wake up." He hadn't registered that Mischa had pulled out of him. He had felt the soft cloth gently washing him, and then the cream, but it had been far away, and Tom couldn't find the strength to care about it. He let himself drift again. Something stung his cheek. He groaned and opened his eyes.

  "There you are. You made me worried for a moment." Mischa let firm hands glide over Tom's back, gently massaging and soothing. Tom moved into the caress and moaned when it made his butt sting. God, his ass was sore.

  "Hey. Sorry, I think I fell asleep."
Tom cleared his throat and moved, trying to get up.

  "More like passed out."

  Tom looked up at Mischa, shocked. "Really? I passed out?"

  Mischa looked like the cat that got the cream. "You did."

  "Wow. I've never done that before." Tom fought to get his jelly-like arms to support his weight.

  "Let me help you." Mischa gently lifted him up, helping him stand. Tom swayed, clinging to Mischa.

  "Shh, you're okay. Let's go lie on the couch." Before Tom could protest, Mischa had lifted him up. It felt silly and a little hot being carried like that. Tom gave up thinking and just snuggled in, hiding his head in the crook of Mischa's shoulder. "That's it, just relax."