A Dom and His Writer

by Xenia Melzer

  “Resume the position, boy. Our drinks are coming.”

  Dean obeyed, carefully clenching his inner muscles to keep the orbs from sliding out of his body. He had to bite his lip to prevent the cry when one of the orbs rubbed against his gland, sending shivers up and down his spine. Richard patted his head. “You’re doing well, boy.”

  RICHARD HATED to admit it, but he was feeling giddy. Being with his boy, there at his club, doing a scene, preparing for one hell of a night—this was how their life was supposed to be. He offered Dean the glass with water, trying to get a generous amount of liquid into his boy. The things he had planned were going to push Dean, and he needed him at his best. When both their drinks were empty, Richard stood. Dean did the same, following two steps behind him in perfect sync without the need for a leash. Richard loved that connection he shared with Dean, one he knew quite a lot of Doms and subs in the club envied.

  Again they ended up in his favorite playroom, the St. Andrew’s cross displayed by two strategically placed lights. Tonight Richard wanted to catch every last detail on his boy’s body. He led Dean toward the cross. Obediently, his boy raised his arms so Richard could fasten the leather cuffs around them. Once Dean was tightly bound to the cross, Richard stepped back and admired his work.

  His boy was a work of art. So beautiful, so perfect in his submission. He let his fingers trail over Dean’s back, marveling at the silky-smooth skin, the way the muscles under that skin quivered from his touch.

  “I’m going to whip you, boy. Good and hard. And when I’m done whipping you, I’ll get out the tawse, just for your delectable ass.”

  Dean moaned, his hips jerking helplessly. “All that time, I’ll keep you plugged and you’re not allowed to lose it. Once I have your back and ass all red and tender, I’m going to fuck you, impale you on my thick cock, make you dance for me, boy, fill you with my spunk.”

  Dean groaned, wriggling in his restraints. Richard pressed a soft kiss on Dean’s shoulder and turned toward the cabinet with the whips. His eyes scanned briefly over the assortment before he selected a cat-o-nine-tails. He let the leather straps caress Dean’s skin once, twice, then he let the whip fly.

  DEAN CRIED out when the straps bit into him the first time. Apparently, about seven weeks was enough time to let him forget the sting. He grunted at the next two blows, trying to find the pleasure behind the pain, his subspace.

  Only it didn’t work this time. Under normal circumstances, Dean would have already been halfway into his subspace by the time Richard cuffed him to the cross. He never had a problem with the pain. It always brought him pleasure. But today it was just pain, and not the good kind. Dean blamed it on his exhaustion. He just couldn’t focus. But he had to. Richard would be beyond disappointed if he ruined this scene. Dean gritted his teeth and tried his best to lean into the next blow, to accept the pain as his Dom’s will.

  RICHARD COULD tell things weren’t working out. By now, Dean should have been begging for the permission to come, not trying to evade every single blow. His boy wasn’t focused, wasn’t in the moment as he should be. Richard tried changing the angle of his blows, but all that got him were more pained grunts. One quick look into the mirror on the wall behind the cross showed him that Dean was not only trying very hard to accept the pain and failing, but that he had also lost his hard-on, despite the cock ring.

  Richard cast the whip aside. If he wanted this scene to work, he had to change his plans. Perhaps Dean needed a gentler approach today, although his earlier reactions had hinted at the opposite. He covered his boy’s body with his own, embraced Dean, and started caressing Dean’s flanks and abdomen in an attempt to soothe him.

  A sob escaped from Dean’s lips, desperate and dejected. Richard made a cooing noise. “Shh. It’s fine, boy. Everything is all right. You’re doing great. Just relax, leave everything to me.”

  He wanted to say more, wanted to keep on whispering sweet words into his boy’s ear, when he felt Dean take a deep breath. Dean turned his head, tears glistening on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Richard. Graphic novel.”

  Richard reared back from Dean as if he had just burned himself. With two little words, Dean had ended their first scene in what felt like ages. Richard felt anger and bitterness overwhelm him. He knew then that he was in no condition to deal with Dean in his current emotional state. Still, his boy needed aftercare, especially since the scene had gone wrong. Richard hurried to loosen Dean’s restraints and then carried the sobbing man over to the big bed. He made sure Dean was covered and had a bottle of water standing close by. Then he turned to leave. “I’m sending somebody in to look after you. I’m too agitated right now.”

  Dean only nodded, his eyes half-closed, a sad, hurt look on his face. It made Richard even angrier, and he hurried to get out of the room before he said something he wouldn’t be able to take back. Why did Dean have to look like a beaten puppy? It wasn’t Richard who had ruined their scene, their night. He stormed outside toward the bar. Leeland was on duty tonight, and he also happened to be a friend of Dean’s. Richard tossed him his membership card.

  “Please go and take care of Dean. He’s in the red room.”

  Leeland opened his mouth to ask a question or perhaps to protest, caught sight of Richard’s thunderous expression, and settled for “Yes, Master Richard” instead. Richard watched as the slim, beautiful man took off. At least Dean would be in good hands.

  “Geez, what’s gotten your panties in a knot?”

  Richard turned around to face Jonathan White, the burly owner of a garage that specialized in restoring vintage cars and motorbikes as well as customizing high-class rides. Jonathan had worked on Richard’s BMW, and that was how they had met. They had both smelled the Dom on the other and taken an immediate liking to each other. Jonathan was one of the few men Richard considered a friend. He slumped onto the barstool next to Jonathan and signaled the other sub manning the bar to bring him a drink. When the whiskey was placed in front of him, Richard held out his wrist so that the boy could put the black stamp with the crossed-out whip on it. Nobody was allowed to do a scene under the influence in the club, and even one drink was considered one drink too many.

  Richard raised the glass in silent salute before he took a deep swig. Jonathan watched him intently. The man’s burning gaze reminded Richard of how wrong this evening had gone. Perhaps it was a good idea to share his anger.

  “Dean just safeworded during our first scene in seven goddamn weeks! That’s what’s gotten my panties in a knot.”

  Jonathan merely lifted an eyebrow at Richard’s furious tone. “Subs safeword. That’s why we have them. It’s hardly the end of the world. Or a reason to react so strongly.”

  Another thing Richard liked about Jonathan, despite the fact that he couldn’t be easily intimidated, was his refusal to be bullshitted. Only, at the moment, he wished the man was a bit less perceptive and more on Richard’s side.

  “For me it is. It’s the first time ever that Dean has used his safeword. And tonight, of all nights!”

  “What’s so special about tonight? I thought your anniversary was a couple of months ago?”

  “It was. We haven’t done a scene since then. A lot has happened. Dean’s sister died and left him in custody of a three-month-old baby. Well, almost five months old by now. I have an infant in my home, sleep most of the nights in the playroom because it’s soundproof, and I haven’t gotten any action to speak of for seven weeks. Tonight was all about reconnecting with my boy, of getting our old life back, and he safeworded!”

  Jonathan looked at Richard as if he had grown a second head. “Your boy has just gone through such traumatic changes in his life and you’re upset because he didn’t act out a scene?”

  Richard buried his head in his hands. Put like that, he sounded like a total jerk. “He didn’t even give me a chance to make it right. I could sense that the scene wasn’t going well and I tried to steer it in another direction, but then he suddenly safeworded. I got so angry. I still
am. This is just not how we work. Dean never safewords! He doesn’t have to. I have him covered. He can trust me.”

  Jonathan patted Richard’s shoulder. “So, are you upset because Dean ended the scene before you both could get your rocks off, or because you think he has betrayed you by not trusting you?”

  “Both. Although, I have to admit, the second reason hurts more.”

  “You are aware that using a safeword is not a personal insult? Despite what you seem to think, you are only human, Richard. All Doms are, even though we don’t like to admit it. Yes, you are really good at gauging your boy’s mood and reactions, but you are not your boy. Whatever reason Dean had to use his safeword, it was a valid one. You have to respect that.”

  Richard stared at Jonathan long and hard. Then he reached for his glass and downed the whiskey, gesturing for the boy behind the bar to bring him another. Of course, Jonathan was right. From a purely BDSM point of view, there was nothing wrong with using a safeword. It was a good thing indeed, the way a Dom and his sub could still communicate when things got out of hand. The problem was, Richard wasn’t sure if Dean’s use of the safeword was entirely motivated by a scene that had become too intense.

  “Dean and I have been together for five years. I introduced him to BDSM. I was the first and only to teach him the joy you can find in pain. I’m his keeper, his Dom, his lover. He has always trusted me, and I have never once disappointed him. I feel like I’ve been dismissed, like Dean has betrayed me on more than one level, like he has somehow made a mockery of what we have together. And I know how stupid that is.”

  “Man, listening to you, I’m glad I’m not into the whole commitment thing. I just do scenes with clear rules, written down for everybody involved to comprehend, no strings attached. This whole being in love business seems to fuck with the straightforwardness I like about BDSM.”

  Richard sighed. “It does. When you’re with a stranger, or even a play buddy, it’s easier concerning the rules. The power exchange is clear, no shades and hidden depths. With the man you love, on the other hand…. The scenes are more intense. You discover layers, deeper emotions. Sometimes it’s scary, but I can’t say I regret playing only with Dean. I get so much more out of a scene than before I met him.”

  Jonathan lifted his beer. “Now I’m a little jealous. Also makes me wonder why you’re not with your boy at the moment, trying to figure out what went wrong. I mean, dude, he’s lost his sister and is now responsible for raising a child. I’m not sure if that is something you can figure out in just seven weeks.”

  Richard sighed once more. Jonathan’s words made sense. They were also true. That didn’t mean he had to like them. All he wanted right now was to get drunk enough to forget about this whole disaster. And if that made him a selfish asshole, so be it. “Are you going to help me drown my sorrows?”

  Jonathan seemed to weigh his options. If their roles were reversed, Richard would have insisted that Jonathan went back to his boy and tried to make things right. But as things were, Jonathan knew him well enough not to try to push Richard. He needed time to process the events of the evening, and alcohol was the way to go. Jonathan sighed and then gave Richard a crooked smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

  Chapter 19

  Three weeks later.

  DEAN MANEUVERED the stroller between two tables at the café where Leeland was waiting for him. Emily was fast asleep and hopefully wouldn’t wake until Dean and Leeland had enjoyed their lunch. His little niece had by now adopted a schedule that would allow Dean to plan a little bit ahead, even though those plans got thwarted half the time. Dean usually spent Emily’s lunch nap sleeping himself, because his nights were still interrupted at least once and ended at five o’clock. Emily was an early riser. The initial two months during which Julio had lived with them were up, and Dean was now on his own, at least during the night. Julio still watched Emily three days a week so Dean could get some work done, and Aaron also helped out a lot. Nevertheless, Dean bore the brunt of taking care of Emily, and he couldn’t remember when he had last felt fully awake.

  After the disastrous scene at Whisper, Richard and Dean had a talk about what had gone wrong, but all Dean had taken from that discussion was how frustrated Richard was about the changes in their relationship and a strong feeling that Richard did not completely understand him. It made his heart constrict with a mixture of guilt and anger.

  He loved Richard from the bottom of his heart, but he hated what was happening between them. Why couldn’t Richard be a little bit more understanding? All Dean needed was time to get this whole caring-for-a-child business sorted out. It wasn’t like their life was over now that they had Emily. Richard sure made it sound like it.

  Dean reached the table where Leeland was sitting and went for a hug. His regular meetings with the other sub had helped him keep his sanity during the last three weeks. Leeland looked him over, concern apparent in his almond-shaped brown eyes.

  “You don’t look very good. Still trouble in paradise?”

  Dean slumped into the chair next to Leeland after making sure the stroller’s brakes were on. “You could say so. Richard’s on a business trip. Before I had Emily, it was hell when he was gone. I just felt so helpless. Now I’m almost glad that I have a few days where I don’t have to tiptoe around, bending over to please him, and keeping Emily out of his hair. I’m starting to fear that….” Dean stopped, tears threatening to fall. Again. He was a mess and he knew it.

  Leeland patted his hand. “Oh, honey, don’t even think about that! You have to stay positive. You and Richard—you’re one. Everybody knows that. He loves you to distraction. He just needs time.”

  Dean sighed. “I know. It’s just—as my Dom and my partner, he should be there for me. But he isn’t. He’s leaving me alone, and I’m no good on my own. That’s why I needed a Dom in the first place.”

  “Not to mention he’s also your lover. I can only imagine how that must hurt.”

  There was a wistful tone in Leeland’s voice that startled Dean out of his self-pity. He knew Leeland’s life wasn’t perfect either. “I’m sorry, Leeland. I’ve only been thinking of myself. How are you doing?”

  Leeland started to answer and then shut his mouth again when the server came to take their orders. Once that was done, he started speaking again. “I’m doing fine, mostly. I still seem to attract only the Doms who see me as a nice toy for inflicting pain and not as an equal partner, but I haven’t given up hope yet.”

  Dean made some sympathetic noises. He knew how much Leeland suffered from his looks. The man was the very definition of a gorgeous twink. At five foot six, with a slim, yet perfectly toned body, a beautiful face with large dark brown eyes, a pert little nose, a sensual mouth, and a mass of black, silky hair that went down to his waist, Leeland was like a walking wet dream for most men, especially Doms who liked their subs to be meek and obedient. Unfortunately, Leeland was neither, even though he looked like it. Both his parents were detectives, and they had seen to it that their son would always be able to defend himself. Leeland was an excellent shot, had black belts in judo, tae kwon do, and jujitsu, and knew how to handle and throw a knife. When he was out, he always carried at least two with him. He was still looking for a Dom who respected him enough to treat him as an equal and not some fragile flower.

  “There has to be one out there just for you. Perhaps we should go looking together? It would give me something else to think about, and we might get lucky.”

  Leeland huffed. Then he smiled at the server who brought their lunch. Leeland liked food. “I already have a candidate. Unfortunately, he’s not interested in something permanent. I have yet to convince him to meet me outside the club.”

  “You mean Jonathan? You do realize that he’s the very definition of a caveman Dom who needs to dominate with his sheer body mass.”

  Again Leeland blew out his breath. “I know. But the scenes we do together are so nice. He doesn’t just whip and fuck me. He’s surprisingly playful and ha
s amazing skills when it comes to sensual torture. I enjoy the scenes with him.”

  “He’s also a no-strings-attached guy. Leeland, I’m not even sure Jonathan knows how the word commitment is spelled.”

  “You don’t have to rub it in. I’m not dumb.”

  “But desperate.”

  Leeland threw his hands up. “Fine, I’m desperate. Very much so. There’s just nothing I can do about it.”

  Dean smiled grimly. “Neither can I. So, are we going to be miserable together?”

  Leeland grinned. “Being miserable means we’re entitled to huge amounts of chocolate. And I just happen to know a shop where they sell all the good stuff.”

  “What are we waiting for? Let’s finish lunch and then dig in. I have a lot of things I need to compensate for with chocolate.”

  WHEN DEAN returned home that afternoon, he had a definite spring to his steps. Most of it was the sugar coursing through his system from way too much chocolate. The shop Leeland had taken him to was more than great, and Dean felt giddy just thinking about all the different treats he hadn’t even tried yet. After talking to Leeland, he had also decided to take the initiative concerning his troubles with Richard. Dean longed for their relationship to be whole again, and he would do anything for it.

  He put Emily down on her play blanket in the middle of the living room, took out his brand-new cell, and typed a message for Richard.

  Hello, Master. How about a romantic dinner when you come home tomorrow? I can ask Aaron to babysit and make a reservation at Mamma’s. Love you.

  The reply came immediately.

  I would love to, boy. Make the reservation for 8.

  Dean grinned as he typed again. Done.

  He called Mamma’s to make the reservation, and Aaron to invite him over for babysitting. Aaron was thrilled. He and Emily had hit it right off. The little girl loved spending time with her granddaddy and his two dogs, all three of which she had wrapped around her tiny little finger.