“This is going to hurt, kiddo. Take a deep breath. On the count of three, I’m going to remove the clamps.”
Hank stiffened, aware the pain when the clamps were released would be tenfold to what he was experiencing already.
“Breathe,” Avery reminded him. And then, “One… two… three.”
Tears filled Hank’s eyes as his nerve endings were assaulted by the sudden return of blood flow. But before he could cry out his pain, Avery’s hand closed over his shaft, stroking him quickly to orgasm.
Hank moaned, the sound low and feral, pulled from a place deep inside him. As he shuddered in release, he wrenched hard at his restraints, every muscle straining. Blinding pleasure hurtled through his body and soul as he melted against the spanking bench, completely spent.
When Avery released him from the bench and helped him to stand, Hank dropped at once to his knees. The heavy chain collar was still around his neck, reminding him of his voluntary enslavement at Avery’s hands. Without thinking about what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around Avery’s long, muscular legs. He nuzzled his face against the soft denim, tears of gratitude pricking his eyelids, one escaping down his cheek.
As Avery stroked his head, Hank reached up and unzipped Avery’s fly as he stared up into his beautiful green eyes. Avery wore no underwear, and his long, thick cock was already erect by the time Hank had maneuvered it out of Avery’s jeans. He looked up again at his Dom. “Please, Sir. May I worship your cock?”
Avery smiled down at him and nodded.
Hank took the big man’s shaft lovingly into his mouth, savoring its spicy musk and silky heat. He cupped Avery’s balls tenderly as he suckled, licked and teased his shaft until Avery’s head fell back, his fingers twisting in Hank’s hair as he moaned.
When Avery came, Hank sucked down every drop of salty sweetness. Letting Avery’s cock slide from between his lips, he kissed and suckled the furry, heavy balls beneath it and then once more wrapped his arms around Avery’s legs.
Reaching down, Avery pulled Hank up onto his feet and wrapped him in a big bear hug of an embrace. For the first time in his life, Hank felt truly loved.
Chapter 14
The next morning, Hank arrived at work early. He didn’t clock in, aware That-Bastard-Patrick would have a fit if he did so before the official start of the shift. He let himself into the empty building with his access code and went over to his bay to try out his idea. Using the fittings they’d bought at Home Depot, it took about twenty minutes and a few false starts, but Hank managed to get the strap wrench secured to the air drill. He didn’t tell anyone what he’d done, but he was hopeful that now, instead of the minutes he’d spent wrestling with antiquated or dried out filters, it would only take seconds. If he could get his turnaround time up, maybe the boss would finally get off his back.
He clocked in with the other guys on the shift and got into his pit, eager to start the day and try out his new tool. It went even better than he’d expected, and he was turning jobs around much faster than he’d been doing before. The time passed, if not pleasantly, at least more satisfactorily than before.
At one point, Billy called over, “What’s that you’re using, Hank? Where can I get one?”
It made Hank feel good to share his minor invention with Billy, who seemed genuinely impressed. “I’m gonna try that,” Billy said. “Thanks.”
Toward the end of Hank’s shift, Patrick frowned when he checked his clipboard and looked at how many customers Hank had serviced that day. “Your tally’s way up, Seeley. Unless there’s been a mistake”—he paused, staring again at the numbers and squinting at Hank—“the numbers indicate you’ve managed to increase production today by forty-five percent over your prior performance. In fact, today you’ve done more oil changes than anyone on the team.”
Hank wiped a smear of oil from his face and grinned proudly.
Patrick scowled suspiciously. “This better be on the up-and-up, Seeley. I better not find out that you’re cutting corners. If that’s happening, you’ll be out of here by tomorrow.”
Hank’s grin fell away, fury and indignation rising inside him like bile. He gripped Avery’s medallion and stroked it with his thumb, closing his eyes a moment as he tried to channel Avery’s peaceful energy.
Just tell him what you did. Show him. He could almost hear Avery’s deep, rumbly voice.
He opened his eyes and managed a tight smile. “Actually,” he said to Patrick, “I just modified the strap wrench a little.”
“That’s company property. If you damaged the wrench, you’re paying for a new one.”
Hank blew out a breath, willing himself to remain calm. “I’m just utilizing the tools provided more effectively. Let me show you.”
He demonstrated his adaptation to his clearly skeptical boss. But when he was done, Patrick actually seemed impressed. “Good job,” he said grudgingly, the first praise Hank had ever received from him. Then he actually smiled, revealing nicotine-stained teeth. “We could use a few more guys who can think on their feet. Maybe you’ll last a while longer, Seeley.”
Hank grinned back, elated. “Thanks, boss.”
~*~
At around three on a late November afternoon, Avery fished his buzzing cell phone out of his jeans. He read the text from Hank: “I’m heading over now to see how the estate sale went. Meet me there?”
The estate sale company Hank had hired to handle the logistics had been at the Cherry Creek house all day. Hank had come a long way in terms of letting go of stuff he no longer needed, both emotionally and materially, but the pending sale of the house had stirred up some lingering issues for him.
Avery texted back, “I’m just finishing up at the brewery. See you in about an hour.”
When Avery arrived, he tried the handle on the front door and found it unlocked. He stepped into the large, now empty front hall, and called, “Hello? Hank, you in there?”
“In the living room,” Hank called back. “Or what’s left of it.”
“Whoa,” Avery said, looking around the space, which seemed even larger now that most of the furniture and all of the artwork was gone. A large sofa remained, a “sold” tag taped to the back of it. “Looks like things went well.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Hank said grumpily.
The built-in bar at the back of the huge room was covered with bottles of wine and liquor Hank was in the process of pulling from below the counter and setting into cardboard boxes. He came out from behind the bar, a scowl on his face, his hand in his back pocket.
“Can you believe this?” He pulled out a folded check and thrust it toward Avery. “This is all I got for all my worldly possessions. Everything went for like half of what I paid for it. My beautiful custom-made pool table was practically given away. Then, to add insult to injury, the agent took her thirty-five percent cut of the proceeds right off the top. This is all that’s left.”
Avery took the check and looked at it, his eyes widening. “Are you kidding me? This is a small fortune.”
Hank snorted. “Small being the operative word.” He sank down onto the sofa and then leaned forward, shoulders hunched, his hands trapped between his knees.
Avery sat next to him and put his hand on the back of Hank’s neck, exerting gentle pressure. “Hank,” he said quietly. “Who do you belong to?”
Hank let out a breath, his hunched shoulders relaxing. He turned to Avery with those lovely dark eyes, his expression softening. “You, Sir,” he whispered.
“Yes,” Avery agreed. “Remember that. Focus on what matters. That check is gravy. We’re doing fine without it. It’s a gift. Be grateful.”
Hank nodded, a look of calm acceptance coming into his face. “You’re right. I’m being a total asshole. I’m sorry.”
Avery let his hand fall away as he leaned back. Hank snuggled against him, resting his head on Avery’s shoulder.
“I get it,” Avery said, stroking Hank’s hair. “It’s got to be hard coming to terms with what you’ve lost.
But when you think about it, none of it was really yours in the first place. It was just handed to you. Your first paycheck was worth way more than what you got today—not monetarily, but in what it represents. You’re standing on your own two feet now, Hank. That’s worth way more than money.”
“Yeah,” Hank said with a sigh. “I know you’re right. I was so freaking proud of my first paycheck, even though it was only like half of what I was expecting. What the hell is FICA, anyway?” The anger had gone out of his voice. He even managed to chuckle. “Sorry I was being such a dick. Something about being in this house. There’s a kind of lingering negative energy. In a way, I’m glad it’s been sold. It was too fucking big for me anyway. I used to wander around the rooms, looking at all my stuff, a glass of booze in my hand, miserable in spite of it all.”
“You were lonely,” Avery suggested.
“I had Reese.” The scowl returned to Hank’s face. “But not really. Even before he abandoned me, we never lived together. I wanted him to move in, but he always refused. He wanted to keep his autonomy. It was all about power. It was a constant struggle between us and I usually won, but only because I had all the money and control. And”—his voice dropped and he looked away—“because I was a bully.” His voiced cracked as he hid his face in his hands. “Reese was basically a good guy. I fucked everything up.”
It was the first time Hank had admitted any culpability in the failure of his relationship with his ex-lover. Though Avery hadn’t pried, it was clear Hank still had some emotional baggage regarding Reese. If they were ever to truly move forward as a couple, Hank needed to let go of the past, once and for all.
Avery reached over and gently pulled Hank’s hands away from his face. Hank continued to stare down at the floor. “Look at me, Hank.”
Slowly, Hank lifted his head and met Avery’s gaze. His eyes were bright with unshed tears. “It’s time you told me what really happened,” Avery said firmly. “You’ve said repeatedly that he abandoned you—left you for another guy. But why? What’s the real story?”
Hank swallowed, a look of shame suffusing his features. “I’m not sure I want to tell you. It’s…we… I was pretty fucked up.”
“I want to hear it. I need to hear it,” Avery replied.
Hank was quiet. Avery let him be while he gathered his thoughts. Finally, Hank said, “Okay. If you’re sure you want to know the dirty details.”
“Absolutely sure. And you’ll feel better once you get it out.”
“Okay,” Hank said again, looking dubious. “First, a little background. Reese was always there—a constant in my life since we were seniors in high school. When I first met him, he was just this loser foster kid forever getting suspended and sent to another home. He barely even knew he was gay when I got hold of him. I sort of adopted him, in a weird way. We were never on equal footing, and I made sure it stayed that way. I just figured he’d always be there—he’d always be mine.”
“You were so young,” Avery offered. “Just kids.”
“Yeah. That was an excuse at first, I guess,” Hank replied. “But patterns established early on took hold. He was my toy, my property. I took him for granted. Even our sex life. I really didn’t get the whole D/s thing, though back then I would have told you otherwise. Even though I dressed the part and had all the gear, I was never a Dom. Not what you’ve shown me a real Dom is—loving and supportive, guiding and training rather than strictly controlling and demanding.”
Avery nodded. “You’re not the only one. There’s a lot of posers out there who totally miss the passion and romance of a true D/s connection. It’s just a game to them, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as long as all parties are on board.”
“He wasn’t always on board, though. That’s the thing. As awful as it is to admit it, I bullied him. I took what I wanted. I took advantage of his gentle nature because I was terrified of being alone.” He looked away, shaking his head. “Jesus. I’m such a fuckup, Avery. Why do you even want to be with me?”
“Hey,” Avery said, pulling Hank into his arms. “I believe in second chances, remember? And third and fourth chances, too. We all fuck up, Hank. It’s how you handle the fuckup that matters. Look at you now—not then. You’re holding down a job and doing well in it. Yeah, it’s not what you want to do with your life, but it’s a start. You just need to figure out where your passion lies, and you will. I’m confident of that. Work stuff aside, you’re a terrific sub, Hank. You’re sexy and courageous. You’ve learned to let go and be vulnerable. This is all amazing stuff. Stuff to be really proud of. You’re not the man you were back then. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say you’re finally becoming the man you were meant to be. You had a tough road when you were little. You’ve told me enough and I’ve observed enough to see that you had things—plenty of things—but you didn’t have parents who loved you or supported you emotionally. You had no brothers or sisters to turn to. You dealt with it as best you could.”
“Thank you for that,” Hank said softly, a tear rolling down his cheek.
Avery wiped it away with his thumb. “But, Hank. You’re not done yet. With Reese, I mean.”
“Huh?” Hank furrowed his brow and leaned forward, angling slightly away from Avery. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you need to properly let go. Tell me what happened. Help me to understand.”
“I’ve already told you,” Hank said in a clipped tone. “Reese left me for another guy. For Luca.” He said the name as if it were a dirty word.
“Just like that? One day you were happy as clams and the next he’s off with another guy?” Avery shook his head. “I’m not buying it, Hank. Something tells me it’s a little more complicated than that. How did he meet Luca? Were things good between you before he left?”
“Shit, yeah,” Hank said indignantly. “They were fine.” He looked away and hung his head. “No, they weren’t. Actually, things had been fucked up for a while, but I didn’t want to see it.”
“Go on,” Avery urged. “I know it’s hard to talk about, but it’s necessary. You’re strong enough now to face the truth. What really happened between you and Reese that caused it to end?”
Hank bit his lower lip and stared into the middle distance for several long beats. Avery again placed his hand lightly on the back of Hank’s neck. “I’m here for you, not against you. You’re safe with me. This thing with Reese is still eating you up inside, and it’s interfering with our relationship. So let’s talk about it and together we can figure out what to do about it.”
“Okay,” Hank finally agreed. “You promise not to hate me?”
“I promise,” Avery said, smiling.
“Okay,” Hank repeated. “You have to understand this little game Reese and I used to play. I know this sounds really fucked up, and I guess it was, but Reese and I used to do this thing. We would make a bet. Well, I would make the bet and Reese would execute it. I’d pick someone for him to seduce. Just some random guy, usually from The Underground or one of the bars we hung out at. His job was to get into the chosen guy’s pants and record the action as proof that he’d done it.”
“Just a one-night-stand kind of thing?” Avery asked. It sounded cold and terribly immature, but as long as no one was hurt… “What would happen to the guy afterward? Did he know he was being played?”
“We didn’t give a fuck about the guy or how it might hurt him or whatever. They weren’t even real to us.” Hank was blushing now, still not meeting Avery’s eyes. “They were toys we played with and then got rid of when we were bored. At least, that’s what we did until Reese changed up the game.”
Hank paused for a long time, again biting his lower lip.
“Go on,” Avery said, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear more. “How did he change the game?”
“Well, he’d been changing it for a while, but I hadn’t been paying attention. Or, more accurately, I didn’t want to see it. He was pulling away for a long time before the final breakup. He always used to work for
my dad in construction, ever since high school. About six months before the final blowup, he quit that job and went out to find something new—a sales job based solely on commission. He kept talking about doing something on his own, needing to be independent and all this stuff.
“I didn’t get it. I was sure he’d fall flat on his face and come crawling back to the Seeley conglomerate, but he didn’t. It was rough going, but he was determined. I think I understand now that he was trying to gain autonomy—to grow up. But I didn’t see it that way back then. I saw it as a kind of defection. And if I’d been paying more attention, I would have noticed how he was subtly but steadily withdrawing from me in other ways too—emotionally and physically keeping his distance.
“That particular day, I thought a bet might be the way to get him back under my control. I knew he was hurting for money, and I offered what was for him a huge sum. I wanted to make sure the pot was too sweet to allow him to refuse. I told him I’d pick the guy and I decided it would be someone from his new job. He went along, albeit reluctantly, and I chose this total nerdy geek with a speech impediment, certain Reese would fail. His price for failing was to be my live-in sex slave for a solid week. I thought it would be a way to get him back, but the whole thing backfired horribly.”
“What happened?”
“Usually the guys we went after were players like us. But not this time. Ironically, the guy I chose for our final bet ended up capturing Reese’s heart and tearing mine out in the process.”
“You mean, instead of seducing him, he fell for him?” Avery asked.
“Yeah. Big time. I mean, not right away. At first, Reese went along with me, laying the plans to get the guy’s pants down. But then something happened. They started connecting or whatever. Instead of producing the required video, Reese told me he was backing out of the bet. I said, ‘That’s fine. Report to me for a week of sexual slavery.’ But instead, Reese told me it was over. He wanted to be with that stuttering nerd instead of me. I couldn’t comprehend it, because back then all I could see was my own reflection. To Reese’s credit, he didn’t just dump me out of hand. He tried to tell me what was happening. He tried to explain. But I was too angry and hurt to hear him, or to admit any responsibility for how fucked up things were between us.”
Turning the Tables Page 17