New Leather

by Debra Varva

  Tony nodded. "I didn't break anything, but the adrenaline rush was crazy. I felt so alive."

  "Like that."

  "Okay. Just don't let this guy really hurt you. Don't get so caught up that you wind up in traction and can't remember how you got there."

  "Yes Mother."

  "And, by the way, I didn't ski again for the rest of the season. Once was enough."

  By Tuesday, Carl felt more like his old self. He went into the Journal to polish the story from the week before on abandoned pets filling up the shelters. The dismal economy in Rhode Island was taking its toll on the family dog, it seemed.

  As he sat, he saw a note on his desk that puzzled him. Coke, antacid tablets, laxative, Viagra. The list made no sense until he realized it was the coffee vandals giving him an update. He hadn't seen the editor all day yesterday now that he thought about it. He looked up and scanned the large room to find several colleagues smiling at him and old Ask Agnes (her name was really Mary) winked. He laughed out loud, kissed the note and pocketed it. Life was good.

  The rest of the week flew as Carl tried to cram five days' worth of work into four. He made a few calls and checked out some readers' ideas for his column. He also began the first installment of his series on BDSM for the Herald. He and the editor there decided to publish the articles after he was done with James. That way, if he did not finish out the contract, they weren't stuck with half the story already in print.

  Writing the article from a reporter's perspective was easier than putting his personal thoughts down in the little book James gave him. How could he do that when his thoughts and emotions were all tangled up? In the end, he went with writing whatever came into his head. The damned thing became six pages long and he was still at odds with himself when he stopped.

  Tomorrow is Friday and he is supposed to be at James' house by two. Thinking he would never sleep, he went to bed late. In spite of his tension, he passed out quickly only to wake up at dawn panting, pumping a load onto the sheets. A bright light was all he remembered of the dream.

  * * * *

  James' week was equally busy. Sammy was pathetically happy to see him in the restaurant on Monday, although he managed splendidly over the weekend. Profits were good and none of the chefs quit or maimed anyone.

  Following tradition, they closed on Mondays, so James caught up on the paperwork and went over the order list for the week's supplies with Sam. After, he sat in the lounge to watch the cleaning crew work and to think. Sam joined him.

  "You haven't said how the reporter did this weekend." James was amazed Sam waited this long to grill him.

  "He was as much fun to play with as I'd hoped. More."

  "So, he liked your perverted games?"

  James snorted. "As if the all that cooing and snuggling you and Peter do is not perverted."

  "Point taken." Sammy said after he stopped laughing. "Well?"

  "Yes, he liked it." He paused. "I'm going to lose my heart, Sam."

  "Maybe that won't be a bad thing. Maybe he'll trade you."

  James didn't say anything to that—he sipped his whiskey and thought about the possibilities.

  Tuesday nights were typically quiet at Pauly's Point, making it a great night to have his friends over for dinner and the weekly chitchat. Like him, a few were business owners, but three of them punched a time clock and had to count pennies. As a result, they all ate free on 'club' night. What was the point of having a five-star restaurant if you couldn't feed your friends?

  Karen arrived first, she always did. She was the lone female dominate in the group and liked to have some alone time with James before the others showed up. James found her through a sub-for-hire at The Leatherman two years ago. The idiot man complained about his former Domme because she was not strong enough to control him. By the end of the night, dismayed by the sub's requirements of pain, he wanted to meet the woman who had tried to curb his risky behavior. James knew too well how difficult that was.

  Mike and Andy came together. They lived in the same area of Warwick and Mike usually gave Andy a ride. James thought that 'Andrew' or even 'Drew' sounded more imposing, but Andy insisted that Billy knew who was boss no matter what he name he used. James looked up at the young man and had to agree he was a commanding figure.

  The last to come into the private dining room was Ben. An older man of fifty, he still had the physique of a body builder twenty years younger. His new lover was the most recent in a string of college girls who liked to dabble in bondage. James shook his head, if the man wanted permanence in a relationship—he needed to find a woman who didn't giggle when he tied her down.

  Knowing the others would be unable to come tonight, James closed the door and moved to the small bar to fix drinks. "Sit, my friends and get comfortable. Our dinner will be ready in half an hour, so we have time for a drink."

  "What are we having tonight, James?" Mike was always hungry and his question was the same every week.

  "Prime rib, twice baked potatoes, vegetables sautéed in butter and garlic." Like any host, he chose what to serve. He believed his friends appreciated the relaxed atmosphere. No menus or waiters popping in every five minutes made it feel like home.

  "Did you have a good weekend with the reporter, James?" Leave it to Karen to zero in on the hot topic of the millennium. James' love life until now had been woefully lacking.

  "I did."

  "Do not hold out on us. I've seen pictures of him, he's gorgeous."

  "He's not as gorgeous as Severo." Mike said.

  "No one's as gorgeous as Severo," everyone chorused and Mike had the grace to blush.

  James grinned. "Carl is a natural submissive. Don't get me wrong, he still has a lot to learn about the lifestyle, but his instincts are good and he seems eager to please."

  Mike sighed. "That's a relief. I thought I blew it when he heard me telling Severo about you."

  "No. I can even say I'm grateful that happened. Thank you, Mike."

  "I can't believe the man is letting you experiment on him." This from Andy.

  "I am not 'experimenting' Andrew. I know what I'm doing. Besides, weren't we all experimenting when we started?"

  The door opened and three waiters came in with the dinners. They shelved the discussion until they were alone again.

  "I only meant that he's taking a big chance on you. He has no real idea if you are a good Dom or bad." Andy continued.

  Before James could answer, Ben spoke for the first time. "It's not so great a chance though, when you think about it. James is a prominent figure in our little state. He can't very well hide bodies in the basement without someone finding out."

  "Oh, there's a recommendation to let someone cuff you to a cross." Karen observed dryly.

  Everyone chuckled and James waited until they quieted. "Now that he knows I won't kill him, I can take him further into the game."

  "I thought he simply wanted to get his feet wet. Are you planning on throwing him into the deep end?" Karen asked.

  "I plan on showing him all that BDSM can be if he's willing." James was serious. "I think he will like what I do to him; I hope he will someday crave it."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The sun was shining, the birds were singing and Carl was more nervous than last Friday. A visit to his mother had not helped either. You can't just blurt out your lover is tying you up. Moms don't like that shit and he knew better than to go there. Yet, her input would have been invaluable. Her practicality about love and sex helped him come to terms with his attraction to men and he wondered what she might think of James.

  Still, they had a pleasant morning and she told him he didn't look so tired. He supposed that was all he really needed anyway. James appeared to be good for him.

  At two o'clock, he pulled into James' driveway and let himself in the house.

  Susan poked her head out of the kitchen. "Hi Carl."

  "Hi Susan." He smiled as he passed her on his way to the bedroom.

  The shower routine was not as bad a
s last week. In fact, the ritual calmed him. Preparing his body for James gave him a sense of purpose. He thought about that as he put on the camouflage scrubs. Everything James did, or had Carl do, reinforced his acceptance of James' will.

  Carl walked into the den to see James behind his desk working on his computer. Not sure what his Dom wanted, he stood by the door, waiting. He took the first few minutes to look around the room. Awards and diplomas hung on the wall behind James while the remaining walls had watercolors painted by area artists. The golden paneling reflected the afternoon light from the big windows to his left and he closed his eyes against the glare. James' voice droned on in the back of his mind.

  "You do that very well." James was directly in front of him when he opened his eyes.

  "A stint in the army taught me patience." He opened his mouth to James' kiss, surprised at the emotional impact of it. He had missed the man. Strong fingers gripped his head as the kiss deepened and he wondered if James had missed him too.

  He felt cocooned by James. The scent of his cologne, the hands now moving down his arms and the tongue dancing in his mouth wrapped Carl in desire. He moaned into the kiss and the hands on his wrists tightened in answer.

  "Did you have a good week?" James stepped back.

  "Yes sir. I finished up a couple of stories for the Journal and started on this one."

  "They are going to print it?"

  "Not the Journal. The Herald is, but not until our six weeks are up. I just wanted to get started on it while the memories were fresh. There will be an article for each weekend to show the progress of my training."

  "And did you write in the booklet I gave you?"

  "Yes sir. It's not very…organized. Did you want to read it?"

  "No. That is for you. It's important that you have somewhere to put your emotions down on paper. Your evolution is meaningless without those insights."

  "Yes sir." Carl had his doubts what he had written so far was insightful.

  "Good. I had Sam send over something light from the lunch menu. We'll eat early to give us time to digest before we go to the playroom."

  "Sounds good, sir."

  "In the mean time, close and lock the door, please."

  Thank god! The imprint of the kiss lingered on Carl's lips and he was impatient for the promise it implied.

  Carl was still standing in front of the closed door when a weight pushed him up against it. Hands untied the string holding the loose camo pants up.

  "Keep your hands on the door," James whispered in his ear as he pulled back on Carl's hips to let the pants drop and expose his ass in an obscene pose.

  The first touch of James' tongue made him shiver. Just the crease at first, teasing him. He twisted his torso to look back.

  "Eyes forward. Just feel."

  He groaned and returned his gaze to the paneled door. His fingers clawed at the wood when other fingers pulled his cheeks apart and the tongue found the puckered little hole hidden there. The wet muscle licked and poked at his opening until he could feel his sphincter loosen and allow its entry.

  "God, James." He wanted to rock back as his lover fucked him with his tongue, but every time he tried, the door rattled. He gave up and stood utterly still. It was torture. He groaned again.

  James lightly bit one cheek. "I did not say you couldn't move."

  "Susan…"

  He heard a chuckle as James pulled his legs further apart to expose the hole without having to hold him open. The tongue returned and James used his hands now to force Carl into motion. The rhythmic rattle of the door shattered the peace of the house.

  Carl forgot his embarrassment when one hand left his hip to wrap around his prick. Damn! That felt good. Unable to resist, he moved between the hand and the tongue. His vision blurred as he shot onto James' hand, the door and wood floor,

  "Stay there." Carl heard a zipper open a moment before the fat bulb of his Dom's slicked cock pierced his relaxed entrance.

  The door went from rattles to banging as James pounded into him. To keep his head from damage, he stiffened his arms and took the full force of each stroke. It was heaven.

  James picked up the pace and his fingers dug into Carl's hips. Two, maybe three, strokes later his Dom's climax emptied into him. He kept his arms straight to hold himself and the man resting on his back upright. He would stay that way as long as James needed him to.

  * * * *

  "You could have told me Susan left." Carl took another bite of his antipasto salad.

  James finished his own salad and sat back to watch his boy eat. Carl's lips were still puffy and his face flushed from their joyride in the den. That had been great fun. "It didn't matter if Susan left or not. All that mattered was your obedience."

  "We weren't doing a scene or in the playroom." Carl pointed out with exasperation.

  "And yet, you submitted beautifully."

  Carl gave up and laughed. "Yeah. It was hot."

  James laughed with him. "Yes, it was." He leaned forward. "This afternoon, we're going to experiment with whips." He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth—he owed Andy an apology.

  "Okay. Tony wondered when you were going to beat the crap out of me. He'll be pleased."

  "Tony?"

  "My idiotic best friend."

  "Ah. The only kind to have. You told him about our arrangement?"

  "I thought it was a good idea to have at least one person who knows where I am." Carl shrugged. "I was a bit nervous at first."

  "Understandable. To get back to tonight, we'll start slow with a soft flogger. It will put a lovely blush on your skin without taxing your limits. If you take to that the way I think you will, we'll use something heavier tomorrow."

  "All right." The boy's voice was strong and James thought perhaps excited as well.

  Once they were in the playroom, James was as eager to begin as Carl was. He retrieved a pair of cuffs from the cabinet along with a spreader and waited in the middle of the room. A chain dangled from the ceiling over his head. "Remove the pants please, and come here."

  Leaving the pants on the floor near the door, Carl walked up to James, completely at ease with his nudity. The relaxed attitude gratified James. Carl hadn't reverted to last Friday's awkwardness.

  "What is your safeword?"

  "Red, sir."

  "Good." He wrapped Carl's wrists in the leather cuffs. They were new, the sharp scent sweet as he linked them together and reached up to hook them to the chain.

  "You may speak or cry out if you wish. I will continue until I decide to stop or you use the safeword." He squatted down to place the spreader bar on the boy's ankles. This kept him open and immobile.

  "Which flogger are you going to use, sir?" Carl's manner was calm, but his tone held nervous tension.

  James took a moment to run his hands over the smooth skin of his sub's arms and back as he replied. "The cowhide. It can be gentle or moderate in strength as we learn what you need."

  "Not the deerskin?" That was lighter weight. "Or a feather duster?"

  "We could go straight to the cane, if you prefer."

  "No sir. I like the cowhide."

  James smiled to himself as he took the flogger from the display case. The handle was black ribbon on black in the Samurai katana style and the thirty tails were about eighteen inches long. He swung it a few times to test the weight and feel of it. He liked floggers best because of their versatility. They delivered an intense pain or minor sting, but bruising was minimal. He did not need to see stripes on his sub's back that lasted for days. Not yet, anyway.

  Moving behind Carl, he kissed his neck and stepped back to take the first swing. The bound man let out a whoosh of air, but otherwise made no sound. James worked the flogger in earnest then, rotating his arm in a figure eight to brush the bare skin from neck to knees.

  Carl shifted occasionally in reaction to the hits as his skin warmed. Gentle, tantalizing sweeps across his skin brought blood to the surface making him pink.

  Jame
s walked a leisurely circle around the boy while maintaining the steady rhythm. Soon, the rosy glow covered every inch of Carl except for his genitals and James was behind him once more. He stopped and placed the flogger on the table.

  "How do you feel, Carl?" He touched the lovely back in a caress and felt the skin bead up in goosebumps.

  "I am okay, sir." Carl shifted again. James knew his hands were changing the effect of the strikes from muted to prickly. He was careful to touch everywhere.

  "Good." He picked up the flogger and began again. The gentle slaps of the tails took on more force as James increased the energy of the strokes.

  Small noises broke loose from Carl in guttural pants that matched the kiss of the leather flogger. Lighter strokes to his cock went unnoticed as James added them to the pink canvas. He did not stop at the end of the second pass.

  Keeping the strength of the hits the same, James walked around the groaning man for the third and final time. His own arm grew tired and he was not surprised to see the younger man's body racked by subtle tremors.

  Cautious, well-placed stings landed on Carl's cock to make it fill and the last few contacts were to the underside of the dripping flesh as it rose to his belly.

  "Sir, sir, sir." Carl's eyes were wide and pleading when James put down the flogger.

  "You've done well, boy. Don't panic now that we're almost done." He held the other man's face while he kissed him in a repeat of their passionate greeting in his office. The reaction of his sub was much different this time when he ran his hands up over the bound arms.

  "James!" The tremors turned into shivers as Carl's skin took on a life of its own.

  "Come when you need to." James let his hands slide down the hot torso as he knelt at Carl's feet. Lips met cock as hands gripped burning flanks. He could not believe the heat of the flesh inside his mouth. It was glorious.

  "Oh, damn, sir!" Carl's hoarse shout echoed in the room at the same instant he shot into the back of James' throat.