by Debra Varva
"You told me I had to, Mom." He returned her hug and looked at James. "This is James, Mom. He's a friend."
"If you say so, dear. Hi James, I'm Elaine and I'm very happy to meet you." She by-passed his hand and hugged him as well.
"It's nice to meet you Elaine. I appreciate the invite, your home is lovely."
"Thank you James. Come out back and I'll introduce you to everyone."
"Carl and I have to pry the grill from the truck first."
Elaine looked in the truck bed at the grill, the roasters and the plastic tub. "James, did you think I wasn't going to feed you?"
He laughed—her dry humor was so like Carl's. "No ma'm. I like to cook."
She smiled and said to Carl, "He's a keeper." James could have kissed her.
The ribs were a success. James met every member of Carl's extended family as each one came back for seconds. Tony hung around the longest and it was a toss up if the food or the Dom drew him.
"No one else is near, Tony. Ask your questions."
Tony picked at the label on his beer. "I don't have any questions. Carl is pretty open about the bondage shit and anything else is more than I want to know. I just wanted to tell you to be gentle with him." Tony shook his head sadly. "He doesn't have great health insurance."
James knew Tony was joking around, the devilry in his eyes gave him away, but the underlying message was clear. "I am always careful, Tony." He paused the same way Tony had. "I can't afford a lawsuit."
Tony burst out laughing and clapped James on the back hard enough to rattle his teeth. "Great! Then we have no problems." He walked over to Carl and talked him into a volleyball game that was forming.
James watched the game while he cleaned the grill. Carl looked good out on the battleground of competitive tomfoolery.
"I think you're good for him." Elaine's comment startled him. "Sorry. I thought you knew I was here."
"No need to apologize. I was lost in thought." He appreciated the way she began to help with the grill without asking. He didn't need the help, but she wanted to talk and wasn't going to just stand around while he worked.
"He has been full of energy lately and I think it's your doing. You're good for him." She repeated.
"I like to think so." James was in unfamiliar waters. How did one talk to a curious mother?
"How long have you been seeing Carl?"
"A few weeks." Short answers seemed the best.
"He has boyfriend potential, you know."
James had no idea where the conversation was going, but decided to steer her away from the disaster this could become. "If you are asking my intentions then I must decline to answer. I like Carl and I want to explore that, but I will not discuss him with you. He has a right to his privacy."
She studied James for a minute and then concentrated on the grill. They worked in silence until it sparkled and Elaine was about to walk away.
"Have I offended you, Elaine? I admit I am not used to talking with mothers."
"No dear. I should apologize. I sometimes forget to mind my own business." She softened the words with a kiss on his cheek. "I still think you're a keeper."
No wonder Carl had had a case of nerves. The party was a minefield of well-intentioned people. On the other hand, they confirmed Carl's lack of a partner was not due to any flaw, but rather to emotional caution, and James might be the one to break through that barrier.
Whistling, James joined the spectators of the volleyball free-for-all.
* * * *
It was no surprise his mother liked James. She was so happy to see him with someone—she would probably welcome a serial killer as long as he was good to her son. Tony though. Tony was a shocker. Not only did he like James, he also told Carl to hang onto him. Since when did Tony dispense advice to the lovelorn? It was downright creepy.
Carl ran around his teammates to hit the volleyball as many times as possible. He was not good at the game, but that was not the point. Pissing off his cousins was the point. He was the youngest and it was his mission in life to be the butt-head.
Ryan tripped him and everyone hooted when John pants him because they all saw the underwear he almost wore. A thong, for cryin' out loud. The thong. Even his mother laughed. James just acted as if nothing was wrong. He might have fooled the rest of them, but Carl saw the swell behind the fly of his slacks.
The man looked hot in those slacks too. Not ninety degrees in the shade hot, but good enough to eat hot. Carl did not understand why James never wore shorts. He had a killer body and a fine set of legs that would benefit from a little sun, although the slacks had a way of adding to his allure. At least Carl thought so. Knowing that the bulge, which James did not bother to hide, was for him did things to Carl that had the thong strangling him. Hot, but evil.
Late afternoon saw everyone helping Mom clean up the yard. John and Uncle John got the huge grill back into the Toyota for the price of James' rib recipe. Wait until they got home and found out Aunt Jo already had it. James brought typed copies with him and gave them to all the ladies who asked throughout the day.
Mom kissed both men goodbye and winked at Carl. She might hold out until he saw her next Friday when he visited, but he doubted it. His house phone would be ringing the second he stepped into his apartment Monday night, but he would deal with that then.
Right now, he had other things on his mind. Like tonight's scene when he would finally get to feel the whip again. Carl was past the point of caring if his fascination bordered on obsession. James kept taking him to the edge of that illusive something and then backing off and he was tired of it. Virginal trembling on the brink of orgasm was fine for the romance novels, but he wanted to go over the edge.
"I like your family, Carl. I expected to be treated like an outsider, but they were very friendly." James broke into Carl's musings.
"Every date is a potential relative to them. That's why most of my cousins don't bring anyone to these things. The Aunts and Uncles are like locusts. No one is safe."
"Even gay dates apparently."
Carl grinned. "Mom made it clear a long time ago that I am as entitled to their loving interference as anyone else."
"She astounds me. You are a lucky man, Carl. I hope you realize that."
"Your mom is disappointed that you're gay?"
"No. She and my father hate me for being gay."
"Hate you? Really?"
"So they said the last time I saw them."
Carl's dad had not been much better, but at least he had his mother's love. The idea that both of them could have reacted badly, shook him. It was not something he ever considered. "When was that?"
"Twenty years ago." James looked over at him. "Cheer up. I am content with my life and my friends."
"James..."
James pulled the truck into the garage and spoke before Carl went any further. "Let's get the grill out and we won't have to face it in the morning."
"Sure." Carl was painfully aware of the temporary nature of their agreement and he suspected James was as well. Why dig deeper when he was going to be part of James' past in three weeks. He wished he hadn't whittled James down to a measly six weeks. It was something he regretted more each day.
Once in the house, James told him to be in the playroom in an hour and closed himself in his study. Carl entered the guest room with a heavy heart.
One hour on the dot, he was showered, alone and blushing anyway, and dressed in the scrubs of the day, leopard spots. James awaited him in the playroom, his moodiness gone.
"Are you ready to try again, Carl?"
"Yes sir. I've been ready all week."
James put the flogger and the whip on the cart and rolled it next to the large cross. "What is your safeword?"
"Red, sir."
"We will start with the flogger to warm you up and then I will use the whip. I won't hit as hard as I did last week, you aren't ready for that."
"I was surprised last time. I know what to expect now."
James stood
so close now that Carl could see the sadness that remained in his eyes. "You will not argue with me, Carl. I want to make that perfectly clear." He kissed him then, making a feast of Carl's mouth.
Carl loved James' kisses and the way he held him still by the throat. He knew that James preferred he keep his hands down, passive, when James controlled his breath this way. The game was not quite the breath play that made the papers when it went wrong, but James would keep him from taking a breath so that he could breathe into him, providing Carl's air himself.
What Carl found interesting about it was that James tended to do this during an emotional moment. The need to establish himself as the alpha male usually followed an argument or a scene in which James lost control of his lust. Carl could not think what might have James stressed, but he kept his hands at his side when what he really wanted to do was hug the man. His wish to reassure James was a mystery to him.
Carl had begun to undress before his Dom kissed him and the pants hung low on his hips. James ended the kiss and tugged on them now to let them pool around Carl's ankles. Fingers capable of wielding a whip or rolling a pastry massaged his sac, making the balls within rub. Carl's dick filled at the sensation.
"Go to the cross, Carl." At last! James would see that he was not a lightweight. The thought finished the job of inducing his cock to stand high against his belly.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
James could not explain why he felt the cold premonition of fear, but it was there and it was real. Maybe the discussion about his parents was to blame. Maybe Carl's obvious eagerness to prove his ability to take the whip was the problem. Either way, he had to be sharp tonight. If something went wrong, it was not going to be because he wasn't paying attention.
Carl faced the cross, waiting, and James ran his hands over the supple skin—admiring the changes a few short weeks wrought. He'd dropped the extra weight around his middle and his muscles had better definition. His proportions fit his build exactly as they should.
No more stalling. James shook off the mood. He had to be here in the moment and not let his mind wander if he was going to do this.
Carl's breathing picked up as he was secured to the cross. James paused to stroke his head and back until he calmed.
"This is the flogger, Carl. Just let it take you away." James began.
The rise and fall of the tails and the steady snap as they struck the boy's back and thighs were the only sounds at first. James kept his senses open to the bound man for signs of trouble.
Carl truly enjoys the flogger, he thought. His limbs twitched as the blows fell, but he seemed relaxed otherwise. James used an easy hand for this part of the scene, getting Carl ready for the more intense whip.
Tanned skin became rosy, but the twitches ceased as the man sank into his submission.
James picked up the lightest whip he owned. He intended to work Carl as gently as possible for as long as it took to get him acclimated to the whip. The first several strikes did not 'wake' him up too much, but the eighth mark brought out a long moan and James knew Carl was not going to get to fly just yet.
Expecting the boy to safeword on the next stroke, he was surprised when it didn't happen. He experimented with a gentle hit close to the last one and watched Carl bite his lip and shudder. No safeword.
One more hit and the extended arms tensed to the point that Carl's body rose until he stood on his toes and still, even though he was in obvious agony, he did not safeword.
James stopped. If the boy was too stubborn to call it quits, then he would. He put the whip down and unbuckled Carl's ankles, rubbing the knots in his calves. Getting the wrists loosened proved more difficult because Carl was realizing that it was over before he wanted it to be and he struggled to shake James' hands from the restraints.
"No! James, no! We aren't done yet!"
"You don't get to make that call, boy. Your body can't take anymore."
"It's my body and I know how much I can take. Please, James!"
The last cuff let go and James caught Carl as he stumbled away from the cross. "Enough, Carl. You have to trust me to know what I'm doing." He spoke in a level tone of voice, hoping to defuse the coming blowup.
Carl was too disappointed to listen to reason. "I was almost there." He twisted from James' grasp and slipped on the hardwood floor, landing on his knees. "Don't touch me!"
James crouched in front of him. "Carl, I know you thought you could withstand the whip, but you can't. Very few men can. It's not a reflection on your manhood, for God's sake! We will find another way to make it work, I promise."
"The Leatherman…"
"Is full of men who crave the pain, not the revelation."
"Christ, James, listen to yourself! We're not talking about a religious experience here. It's a fucking endorphin rush!" Carl managed to stand upright as he yelled at James, but he was unsteady on his feet and James stayed nearby. "I came here to get a story. Babying me gets me nothing! You've been getting your jollies teasing me and making me abase myself, but you don't intend to really give me the full treatment, do you? You're just fucking with me, aren't you?"
"You will not speak to me that way again. In fact, you will not speak again tonight unless it's to answer a direct question." He'd had it. Carl would learn to be respectful or suffer in silence. "Am I understood?"
"Yes sir." Carl's tone was anything but respectful.
"Good. Let's clean you up and check your back for damage. I want to go to bed." He was tired and disheartened. "We will discuss this in the morning when we are both calmer and thinking clearer."
James had little to say as he took care of Carl. Silence was preferable to arguing and he had no doubt Carl would start again if he began lecturing. Carl, he figured, was just plain pissed. Some of it was the fucking endorphins, James did not plan to let that go unpunished, and some of it went much deeper.
They would talk tomorrow. Right now, Carl would reap the consequences of his actions—James threw a pillow and quilt down to the floor, his meaning unmistakable. Carl was spending the night there. If he wanted the full treatment, he could have it—in spades.
A sound woke James at dawn. The weak light filtered through the trees from a sun still low in the sky to show Carl rising from the floor. His movements were stiff and a groan cut off midway as he made slow progress across the room.
James lay in bed and listened for Carl's return. His heart sank when he heard the front door a few minutes later instead.
* * * *
No natural high, no sex and no soft bed had guaranteed Carl's foul mood of the night before would still be with him come morning. He was angry and uncomfortable. Leaving in a fit of pique seemed the thing to do.
Carl twisted, trying to see the welts on his back in the bathroom mirror. As far as he could tell, a few places looked red and only two of those were puffy. Judging by the soreness when he woke up on James' floor, he'd thought his back was shredded.
Hours later, after his temper cooled and the stiffness was a memory, he regretted it. All of it. James was the best at what he did and Carl's hissy fit was just that. A child's tantrum.
Mentally composing an apology, he dialed James' cell.
"Pauly."
Carl's throat closed.
"Carl?" James sounded cold.
"James, I'm sorry I acted the way I did. I didn't mean to accuse you of screwing around with my head." Now that he could talk, he couldn't shut up. "I had no right to yell or swear at you and I am so, so sorry."
"You shouldn't have left, Carl. I might have forgiven the outburst if we'd been able to sit down like two adults and talk about it, but you ran away."
"I know. It was a childish thing to do. I would like to come back and have that talk, if that's all right?"
"No. I think not."
"Then I'll see you next weekend?"
"No, Carl. I believe we are done."
"What about the contract?"
"You broke the contract." He heard a sigh and James' voice softened. "I thou
ght we had a connection that went beyond the contract, Carl. I was wrong."
"I...see." Carl closed his eyes against the headache that was forming.
"You have what you need for your articles and this little test of my theories is put to rest. I am happy to have met you, Carl. Goodbye."
He hadn't expected that. Now what did he do? Sure, he had enough for the stupid articles, but there were still questions he needed to have answered. He told himself the tightness in his chest was nothing more than strained muscles from hanging on the cross.
The rest of the day dragged. He spent an hour doing a rudimentary workout in his living room, then went to a fitness store and bought an all-in-one weight machine he could fold up and hide behind the couch.
He grocery shopped while he was out because he hadn't planned on being home until Monday night. Fruits and veggies were tossed into the cart along with the healthy oil James used for everything. Carl even found a specialty store that sold James' brand of coffee, making it necessary to stop at a department store to get a grinder/coffee machine.
Everything was dumped on the kitchen table except for the workout machine. That went on the floor in front of the couch, still in the box. An inventory of his porn turned up a video he did not have memorized and he plugged it in. By the time the movie ended, Carl was asleep on the couch with his hand wrapped around a soft dick.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Groggy was the only way to describe Carl for most of the week. He was eating right and putting together the fitness machine had been a workout of epic proportions. Still, sleep was not his friend. He tossed and turned or dreamed of lurid sex with James. At least his cock came back to life.
Tony got most of the story during a drunken evening of pizza and beer, or in Carl's case, a burrito wrap and tequila. His opinion was that Carl was a dumb ass. "You can't be happy with great sex? Nooo...you want to have a good beating too. Moron."
The talk with his mother was more difficult.
"No, Mom. We just hooked up for a while."
"Bullshit! He had his eyes on you all day Saturday."
"Mom! Calm down. We had a fight, okay? It's over." He knew that was not the end of it.