by CB Conwy
"Are we being noisy?"
Tom shrugged apologetically and leaned on the wall. "Not any more than you have to be to do your work, I guess. I'm just having trouble concentrating on my reading."
The carpenter had a glint in his eyes. "Why don't you just go in there?" He pointed at the door to the playroom, which they kept locked while they had strangers in the house. Carefully locked. "It's bound to be quieter since it's on the other side of the hallway."
Tom mumbled something about it being used as a storage room. Really, it was the best he could come up with.
"Yeah? I was one of the guys building it, you know." Tom desperately tried to figure out if the carpenter meant building as in laying the floorboards or as in making the spanking bench. Andy seemed to take pity on him.
"Mr. Richter was very specific about the things in there. He has always known what he wants. It seems he still does." The carpenter smiled at Tom, less teasing this time.
"He does." The relief welled up in Tom. And a little pride. Mischa had chosen him, after all.
"He's never done it before, you know -- moved anybody in. Everybody wants to see who finally made big bad Mischa break down and be human."
Tom had no idea what to say to that. It wasn't as if he was a big catch or anything. "I guess he just found someone who can out-stubborn him."
Andy laughed out loud. "Maybe." He seemed about to say something more, but changed his mind. He had turned to leave when Tom blurted out.
"What are you?"
Andy turned back, his eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?" He saw Tom getting flustered.
"Ah, you mean if I'm a Dom or a sub?" Tom nodded. Andy leaned on the doorjamb.
"Guess." He was still smiling, but there was a challenging note to his voice.
"Sub." Tom said it before he could think about it.
Andy looked surprised. "Most people get that wrong. How did you figure it out?"
"You mold."
Andy's eyes got wide. "You mean I have a green layer all over?"
Tom laughed. "No. You shape your body after who you're talking to. It's a sign that you like the person you're talking to -- or that you want to please him. Your submission isn't just in your brain; it's in your body, too."
Andy looked surprised. "Huh." He turned to go back to the library, casting a thoughtful glance over his shoulder at Tom. "I guess I know a couple of reasons why Mischa chose you."
Tom frowned. That didn't enlighten him whatsoever. He was tempted to go after Andy, asking the man what that was supposed to mean. Then Tom decided that he had a better outlet for his restlessness.
"I can't concentrate!" Tom hadn't slammed the door to Mischa's office after him. Not exactly, at least, but Mischa still jumped when he heard the door close with a thump. Too bad; Tom needed to be fucked senseless against the wall. Or something.
Mischa slowly got up, the man's eyes narrowing. "Ah, sir. I mean, I can't concentrate, sir." Fuck. Tom swallowed nervously and felt his cock stir at the same time. Very confusing. And hot.
Mischa walked up to him, unhurried. "So, the noise bothers you?" The Dom stood so close, and Tom was already hard. He managed to nod.
"I asked you a question." Mischa grabbed Tom's hair and pulled his head back, pinning him to the door. Tom squeaked, trying to find his balance. "Yes, sir! I mean, yes, the noise bothers me, sir."
"I see." Mischa was so close, almost rubbing against him. The Dom cupped Tom's hard dick through his pants, and Tom gasped. He arched his body between Mischa's hand in his hair and the one on his dick, letting himself be held up by the two points of contact, everything else disappearing in his attempt to find release. He was so close, Mischa's demonstration of authority so powerful that he only needed a little more to come.
Mischa let go.
Tom pushed close, confused and so excited. Mischa took another step back.
"Ah ah, you have to wait until tonight, boy."
Tom was aghast. "You can't! I'm so fucking hard." So hard it hurt, in fact. "This is just plain mean."
Mischa cocked his head. The playful glint had disappeared from his eyes. "Mean?" He drew the word out. Tom froze. "I don't like to be called that. And it's not for you to decide when I do what. It seems someone's just earned himself a punishment." Mischa looked thoughtfully at Tom. "You won't be coming until tomorrow."
Tom felt his shoulders slump. He wasn't hard anymore; the misery from fucking up had made him go soft. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to screw up." He kept his head down and turned to leave the office.
Mischa grabbed him and turned him back. "Don't, Tom."
Tom couldn't meet Mischa's eyes. "I didn't mean to make you angry, sir."
Mischa gently lifted Tom's head with a hand under his chin. "Look at me."
Tom managed to let his eyes meet Mischa's. His lover looked at him with kind eyes.
"I'm not angry with you. You lost your patience, and I'm punishing you for it. Action, consequence." Mischa bent his head and gently kissed Tom. Tom gratefully pushed into it. "It has nothing to do with how I feel about you. In fact," Mischa took another kiss, "there will probably be more punishments when I push you further. And I'm going to enjoy each and every one of them immensely."
Tom raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak. "Please consider carefully if what you're about to say isn't just going to get you into more trouble." Tom shut his mouth around the snide remark he had intended.
"A wise decision." Mischa rubbed Tom's shoulders.
Tom sighed and tried to relax. "I still feel like I fucked up."
"You did." Tom's head shot up. Mischa smiled, still massaging Tom's shoulders. "You're not perfect. You fucked up, and therefore you're not going to come until tomorrow. It's that simple."
Tom looked at him, skeptically. "Yeah?"
"Yes. However, there's no reason why I can't come." Mischa rubbed himself through his clothes. "Do you want to watch, boy?" Tom blinked, unable to understand what Mischa was asking him. The man couldn't be that mea... Tom stopped that line of thought. Mischa looked at him, expecting an answer. Tom suddenly got it.
"Yes, sir. Please." Mischa looked very satisfied, sitting back down in the swivel chair. "Over here, boy. Kneel in front of me." The Dom slowly unzipped, waiting for Tom to obey. Tom had to order his legs to move, to sink down in front of Mischa. In front of his master.
"Good boy. You can look, but you can't come." Mischa started rubbing himself slowly, his thumb sliding over the slit on every stroke. Tom swallowed, mesmerized by the sight in front of him. Mischa's hands moved slowly, but none the less, it didn't take long before he was very hard, the precome making his fingers wet. Mischa gasped, and Tom forced himself to look up from Mischa's hard cock to watch his Dom's face. Mischa groaned, eyes never leaving Tom's while he came.
Tom's legs were shaking and he was rock hard when he got up and fetched Mischa some tissues. He knelt back down and offered them to Mischa. Mischa caught his hand.
"Good boy." Mischa's eyes didn't leave his. "You get it now, don't you?"
Tom knelt, letting his body sink into the pose and his eyes meet Mischa's. "Yes, sir." He smiled. "You're all about the power play."
***
Comprehension was one thing, obedience quite another. Especially when it came to controlling your very hard dick when you had to sleep next to the sexiest man in the northern hemisphere.
"I'm not sure this is going to work." Tom looked doubtfully at his more than half hard cock. "I really want to obey, but I'll probably try to hump you in my sleep." Mischa giggled. Tom looked up, pouting. "Hey, I'm trying to be realistic, here."
Mischa folded his arms. "You're probably right." He looked thoughtful. "I think I have an idea. Lie down, hands over your head."
Tom lay down obediently, holding onto the bed above his head. Mischa moved Tom's legs apart, making him feel open and vulnerable. It only made his dick harder.
"Wait here. Try to think soft thoughts." Mischa giggled again and left the room.
&
nbsp; Tom snorted; Mischa never giggled, and Tom made a note to himself not to give him any reason to do so ever again. It just didn't bode well. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. It was no good. He was in Mischa's bed, waiting for Mischa, spread out for Mischa. It was so hot, punishment or not.
Mischa came back into the room, carrying a bundle in each hand. The man put one down on the side table out of Tom's sight. Before Tom could ask Mischa what it was, Mischa was over him, lying heavily on him. "What are you..." Then Tom felt the cold, wet sensation on his groin, and he squealed. Fuck! So cold. The feeling took his breath away, and then it came back, and he was babbling.
"Fuck. So cold. It's too cold, Mischa, please, take it away!" Mischa held Tom down, using his weight to hold the boy still and the wet ice pack in place while Tom bucked, desperately trying to escape. Mischa was way too heavy, though; Tom gave up fighting and just whimpered. Mischa kissed Tom's shoulder.
"Good boy." Mischa didn't move the ice. "You managed to keep your hands where I told you to. Such a good boy." Tom hadn't even noticed. Mischa pushed the ice a little closer, making Tom grunt and writhe. "Yes, it's cold, isn't it?" Tom frantically nodded. "Do you think you're soft now?"
Tom was so close to giving him a sarcastic answer. Mischa moved the ice so it touched even more of the sensitive flesh between Tom's legs. "Yes, sir!" Tom gasped. It wasn't dignified, and he didn't care. "I'm soft now, sir."
Mischa chuckled and finally moved the ice pack. Before Tom registered what happened, Mischa had taken a couple of things from the side table and did something to Tom's almost numb dick.
"There. Now you won't get hard." Mischa looked very satisfied. Tom could only stare at the plastic thing surrounding his cock.
"What's... Sir?" He swallowed. It looked... alien.
"It's a cock cage." Tom looked at him, uncomprehending. "A chastity device? It'll keep your dick from getting hard." Mischa took a towel and wiped away the water from the ice pack. It felt so strange to feel the fabric on his stomach and legs and then there wasn't any feeling at all to his dick. Tom was still staring when Mischa bent down over him, taking his lips in a kiss.
"This way, you're going to obey me even in your sleep." Tom stared at Mischa in wonder while Mischa kept kissing his lips, his neck, his chest.
"I'm yours." Tom had no idea where it came from. "I mean, it's out of my hands now. I can't do anything but obey you." Mischa smiled, but didn't stop the gentle kisses. "I'm yours."
Mischa kissed his lips. "You are. My obedient, rebellious, beautiful man." Tom made a little sound and let go of the headboard to wrap his arms tightly around Mischa. The plastic was between them, keeping him submissive even if his self-control failed.
Mischa put his arms around Tom and rolled them onto their sides. He held on tightly for a long time. Then Mischa reached for the covers and turned off the lights, pulling Tom back into his embrace.
***
Wearing the cock cage was the strangest feeling Tom had ever had. It was impossible to get hard; he had woken up a couple of times during the night when his cock had tried to harden and the discomfort from the cage made it go soft again.
Mischa woke him up early, kissing him gently. They spent what felt like hours that way, just kissing, slow and lingering kisses not meant to arouse. Of course, Tom did get aroused, but the cage didn't allow for his cock to go hard. It felt... safe. He couldn't not do what Mischa wanted him to do. Tom just floated, taking the soft kisses and relishing the feeling. Accepted it.
Mischa stroked his cheek. "I'd love to keep you this way, but the builders are arriving in half an hour; you have to get up." Tom nodded, but pushed closer, wanting to get as much out of this as he could. Mischa smiled. "I promise it won't be the last time we do this."
"I love you."
Mischa kissed him again. "I know. And I love you. Now, get out of bed."
Tom laughed and got up. Walking felt strange. It wasn't so much the chastity thing as the fact that he was floating. The physical world felt a little distant and deeply unimportant. Even the fact that he had to sit down to pee didn't disturb his peace.
"Does it show?" Tom picked up a pair of sweats. He didn't even mind, just wanted to know if he should avoid the carpenters or not.
"No, you can't see it if you wear normal pants. Even with thin sweats you have to know what you're looking for. You're fine."
Tom kept close to Mischa while they made breakfast and sat down to eat it. He needed to be close.
"Do you want to sit with me today?" Tom looked inquiringly at Mischa to see what he meant.
"You can sit on the floor next to me if you'd like. You can bring a book and work, or you can just be." Mischa sounded as if it was the most natural thing in the world -- and Tom decided that it was. It was what he wanted, so why worry about what it looked like, what it made him? Tom wanted what it made him, at least right now. He nodded.
"I'd like that." He stepped close. "Thank you, Mischa." Tom didn't just mean the invitation to sit with him.
"You're welcome." Mischa hugged him.
They passed the builders on their way to Mischa's office. They were as noisy as the day before, but Tom didn't pay much attention to them, just pushed himself closer to Mischa. He saw Andy stare at him, but he didn't care.
In the office, Mischa switched his swivel chair for a normal chair, putting a large pillow on the floor next to him. "You can sit here. Don't kneel; it's not good for your knees for a long period of time." Tom obediently sat down, putting a book on the floor next to him while Mischa started up his computer. Tom reached out to touch Mischa's leg, but hesitated.
"You can touch me." Tom gratefully leaned his head on Mischa's thigh, holding on to his Dom's leg. He let himself relax, sinking into the feeling of Mischa's thigh under his head and the plastic surrounding his cock.
Tom sat like that all morning, his mind empty. Mischa absentmindedly caressed his head when the man wasn't typing. At one time, Tom dozed off, waking up a little later to the same quiet as before. When he drowsily moved around, his neck was a little stiff.
"Are you getting sore?" Mischa's voice was low so as not to disturb him. Tom nodded, unwilling to speak.
Mischa gently rubbed Tom's shoulders, moving his head around a little bit until the crick in his neck had subsided. "Good boy." Mischa started typing again.
At lunchtime, Tom was reluctant to move and ruin the peace. Like the rest of that day, Mischa seemed to be completely in tune with Tom's needs. He gently helped Tom up, keeping his hands on Tom all the time. Tom leaned on him, sighing. Mischa chuckled.
"Come on, let's go eat. I want you to make a salad." Tom pulled himself together and followed Mischa out of the room.
He got to work, chopping vegetables and making a dressing. Mischa kept touching him every time the man passed, keeping Tom grounded and in his headspace. Andy came in to get something to drink at one point. Tom could feel the carpenter's eyes on him while he leaned on Mischa, waiting for the chicken to be done. Mischa held Tom close.
"Is your work coming along?"
Andy made a visible effort to take his eyes off Tom. "Yes, sir. I mean, Mr. Richter." He looked a little embarrassed by his slip of tongue. "We're going to finish up this afternoon, and the painters will come in on Monday. Then you'll have a very nice library." He nodded to them both and hurried out of the kitchen. Tom couldn't help but laugh.
"Have you two got a history or is he just having a crush on you?"
Mischa looked at Tom in consternation. "Andy? No, we've never... I mean, he's at the club, but we've never even talked before. What do you mean, crush?"
Tom smiled and put his arm around Mischa. "He's dying to get what we have."
Mischa blinked. Tom just patted his arm and started setting the table.
***
Their afternoon was just as peaceful, even though Tom started to get hard more often. Of course, the hard plastic didn't give, and he squirmed until his dick went soft again. He'd never thought about how often he got of
f with Mischa; going without for an entire day seemed a lot harder than it should.
Thinking about their sex had the obvious result, and this time it made Tom gasp.
"Getting hard?" Mischa never moved his hand from Tom's neck.
"Yeah. Thinking about you was plain stupid."
Mischa chuckled. "Poor Tom."
There was a knock on the door, and Andy entered after Mischa told him to. His eyes widened when he saw Tom on the floor.