Call Me Boy

by Loki Renard

  “You are angry,” Eric noted. “Anger will not serve you.” He walked back to the front of Raid and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, pressing him down with an insistent pressure that saw Raid sink to his knees.

  Eric freed his cock from his pants and it sprung out already erect, thick and long and beautiful. Raid knew what he was supposed to do now, and in spite of his anger and his pain he did it without question, opening his mouth for Eric. Man aside, a cock was a cock and Eric's cock was gorgeous.

  Eric slid between Raid's lips, pressing his cock deep to the back of Raid's throat and Raid willingly suckled on the thick flesh feeling it swell and jump in his mouth. This he enjoyed. There might have been submissive overtones to the experience, but when he flicked his tongue under the head of Eric's dick and heard the man groan, he did not feel submissive. He felt powerful.

  If Eric had planned this as a means of making him feel his enforced submission more keenly, he had failed. Raid suckled on the thick dick, welcoming it into his mouth enthusiastically. He wanted Eric to come, he wanted the man who would be his master to lose control and spill his seed. He wanted his point proven, not Eric's. But before he could feel the spurts of lust he desired, Eric wrenched his hips away and yanked the younger man up.

  “You brat,” Eric growled, his eyes flashing. “You enjoy that too much.”

  Raid licked his lips and grinned unapologetically. “I just enjoy serving my master.”

  “Would that were true.” Eric released him and moved away, his breath shuddering as he pushed himself back into his pants. “I will have to be careful with you.”

  Chapter Five

  The first thing Raid did when he got back home was take the stupid collar off. He tossed it into a corner of the room and felt immediately better for it. Eric had him on the hook for 10 k and a drugs charge, but he'd be damned if he'd change who he was to suit the man.

  Peeling off his dirty clothes, he got into the shower and let the hot water run over him. He had to relax. Then he'd be able to think better. Maybe he'd be able to find some way out of the servitude he'd found himself in.

  Thinking back to the way Eric had reacted when he realized he was enjoying sucking his cock gave him a hint. Eric would deny his own pleasure if he thought it was undermining whatever hold he had on him. That was useful. That was very, very useful.

  When he got out of the shower, there was a message on his phone. 'DINNER. 9 PM.'

  “Fuck,” Raid swore. Was he not going to get a minute to himself? An effusive knocking at his door confirmed the fact that the answer to that question was no. He dressed quickly and opened the door to find Esther grinning merrily to herself outside.

  “Hey,” she smiled. “I almost forgot what you look like. Wanna get pizza tonight?”

  “Definitely,” Raid agreed. He liked catching up with Esther and he was happy to have reason not to see Eric so soon. He replied to Eric's text. 'Can't sry.'

  A moment later, his phone rang. He answered the call. It was Eric of course. “Why not?”

  “No pleasantries?” Raid injected a note of censure into his tone. Eric's answering chuckle was dark.

  “Don't play with me, boy.”

  “I'm not,” Raid said, glancing across as Esther. Her face was already starting to fall. Poor kid probably thought he was going to ditch her. “Esther and I are having pizza tonight. She says she's forgotten what I look like.”

  “Yeah!” Esther shouted in the background, earning herself a thumbs up from Raid.

  There was a pause, as if Eric was deciding whether to insist Raid come or not. “Very well. Tomorrow then.”

  “Tomorrow,” Raid agreed.

  “Enjoy your night.” Eric rang off.

  Esther was smirking. “Is he your boyfriend now?”

  Raid was going to deny it, but it would be easier to explain Eric's ongoing and annoying appearance if he didn't. “Yeah,” he smiled.

  “Aw, how sweet,” Esther said, grinning widely. She was teasing him. He let her.

  ***

  In spite of the night's reprieve, dinner with Eric came all too soon. The following evening, Raid put on the neatest pair of dress pants he owned and a white shirt, complete with an emerald striped tie that played off the green light in his eyes. He examined himself in the mirror critically. He'd shaved off all the stubble that had accumulated in recent days and with a bit of gel in his hair he looked pretty darned respectable. Handsome too, he thought, handsome in a way that Eric would probably appreciate. If Eric wanted to play power games, he'd play too.

  He arrived slightly late. Not late enough to seriously piss Eric off, just shy of ten minutes late. Late enough for Eric to notice. As a means of heading any anger off at the pass, he stopped by the flower seller at the door and picked out a dark red rose. Perfect.

  With his customary broad smile, he made his way through the restaurant to the bar. Instead of saying hello or tapping Eric on the shoulder, he reached out with the rose and traced the petal down Eric's cheek. The older man jumped visibly in his seat and Raid chuckled as he handed him the flower.

  Eric's frown softened immediately when he saw who had interrupted him. “Hello my boy,” he purred.

  “Hello my lord,” Raid dropped into an exaggerated bow then slipped lithely into the spare seat beside Eric.

  Eric's smile was broad. “Well you're in a much better mood from the last time I saw you.”

  “What reason do I have not to be in a good mood?” Raid smiled back. “Dinner with a handsome gentleman, the world at my feet, what more can a guy ask for?”

  Twirling the rose between his fingertips, Eric gave Raid a knowing look. “I warned you once not to play games with me, didn't I boy?”

  Feigning hurt, Raid frowned. “You do not wish for me to be pleased to see you?”

  “That's not what I mean,” Eric shook his head, then gave into the cheek of the moment and laughed. “You are quite something, young man.”

  “Yes I am,” Raid agreed with just a touch of arrogance.

  “Shall I take it that this is an attempt to get into my graces?”

  “Not at all. I am already in your good graces.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “You rescued me from an over zealous penal system, found me a job and have taken me out to dinner twice now.”

  Again Eric laughed. “Boy you have no idea what you are in for.”

  “Oh, is this all a ploy to lure me into your dungeon and do unspeakable things to me?” Raid arched his brow and grinned.

  Eric shook his head. “Where is the sullen boy who left my home two days ago?”

  “I do not not know. Perhaps he is reformed by your good influence.”

  “Later we will see how reformed you are,” Eric purred. There was a hint of danger in his tone, a hint Raid took to heart, though he tried his best not to show any hint of concern.

  They adjourned to a pleasant dinner. Eric ordered for him, subtly enforcing his dominance. Raid let it slide without so much as a mention. You couldn't dominate someone who didn't care if you dominated them or not, or rather you could, but he had an inkling that it was his resistance that made it so enjoyable for Eric. He did his best to make himself like water. Where Eric pushed, he gave way gracefully.

  Eric observed all this without further cynical comment. He seemed to be enjoying himself and for just a while Raid was able to pretend that they were on an ordinary date. It wasn't until their napkins were laid down and he waited to see what Eric wanted of him next that the inequality of their relationship stared him in the face once more.

  “You have been very pleasant company this evening,” Eric said with an air of satisfaction.

  Raid downed the last of his wine. “Are you surprised?”

  A slight smirk touched Eric's mouth. “I am eternally surprised by you Raid.”

  They sat in silence, sharing the intimacy of a look. The dark gaze enveloped Raid, threatened to draw him in. But he was not the drawing type. He was fiercely indepen
dent, some would have said cold. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy companionship or that he wasn't capable of love. His relationship with his younger sister more than proved that. In his dealings with other men however, he was less effusive, less attached. Eric would have been a submissive man's dream. Raid was sure men grovelled at his feet on a regular basis. But Raid was not one to give into that sort of need, to take up that mantle of protection.

  Eric must have sensed that for he finally sighed. “I must confess I do not know what to do with you.”

  “Have you perhaps bitten off more than you feel like chewing?” Raid suggested.

  The older man's answering chuckle was dark. “Not at all dear boy. It is just that I cannot seem to settle on a method of dealing with you. At first it seemed you would benefit by regular discipline, but now you are compliant and docile as a lamb. You seem to seek to please me, but I do not think that is the reason for your behavior. No my boy. I think you are playing games with me still, because I have not yet taught you that games will not serve you.”

  “Well I am here, Mr Darwin, at your beck and call as you requested.”

  “You are, and we have an evening ahead of us.”

  The evening found Raid back in Eric's dungeon a little too quickly for his liking, but he was feigning acceptance of his situation and he could hardly refuse and keep the subterfuge going. So he went mildly as a lamb down to the dungeon and allowed Eric to remove his shirt and tie and bind him to a St Andrew's cross, his back exposed to the room.

  Eric's voice was deep, assured. “Still feeling confident?”

  “Always,” Raid lied. His confidence had almost entirely deserted him. With his wrists and ankles shackled to the cross, he was unable to defend himself. Eric could do whatever he wanted to do and he wouldn't be able to stop him.

  The gentle caress of something multi-layered trailed down his back. “This is a cat,” Eric announced.

  Raid could picture it in his head, one of the floggers with long leather tails attached to a wooden handle. They could be vicious, he was sure. Eric trailed the tips of the cat along his upper shoulders and down the center of his back. “They used to use a variant of these for disciplinary purposes on ships,” he said conversationally.

  As he spoke, he began slapping the flogger lightly across Raid's upper shoulders. There was a slight stinging and burning that came with the wisping touches. A harder stroke made Raid wince and tug at his bonds. The next one, delivered harder still, made him clench his teeth so as not to cry out.

  He felt Eric move up close behind him. The Englishman had shed his shirt too, and his muscular torso pressed up against Raid's stinging back. His height and superior width resulted in Raid feeling almost cloaked by the older man. Eric's lips were against his ear, speaking softly. “Give into it, Raid. This is not about pain. This is about submission.”

  “I am submitting,” Raid lied.

  Eric made a sound of disappointment and stepped back. The cat fell again and again. Now Eric was putting a reasonable amount of force into the strokes, letting Raid feel their sting. With no recourse, no opportunity to back down, Raid was forced to take the harder blows. The sensation was unique, a raw feeling that quickly began to bleed into pain. He bit his lip and tensed his muscles against the onslaught, but that only made it worse.

  Then Eric was back, gentle fingers trailing down his spine, dancing lightly over the marks on Raid's shoulders. “Give into it, my boy,” he said in deep, cajoling tones. “Don't fight it.”

  “I don't know what you want!” There was a hint of a whimper in Raid's tone, a touch of desperation. He truly did not know what it was Eric wanted from him.

  “I want you to relax. To accept that my will is what matters now. I want you to stop fighting me. Stop trying to out maneuver me. I've seen it all before, my boy. It only ends in pain for you.”

  “You can hit me as much as you want,” Raid said, drawing in a deep sobbing breath as his resistance began to crumble.

  “Oh no dear boy, it's not about beating you into submission. It's about you knowing, feeling for once in your life that someone else has control. That you are safe in that control.”

  Raid shook his head. “It's not possible.”

  Eric was working at the restraints, letting him free. First the ankles, then the wrists. When the last wrist was freed, Eric pulled Raid gently away from the cross and embraced him from behind, holding him tenderly. “It is possible, my boy.”

  A sob broke out of Raid's chest. It had been a very long time since he'd felt anything like that, an embrace that enveloped him. “It's not fair,” he gasped.

  “What isn't fair?” Eric lead him to a soft couch in the corner of the room and drew Raid down between his legs so that he could still hold the younger man in his arms. Raid shifted uncomfortably at first, but when Eric did not let go, he relaxed and let his head rest on Eric's shoulder. His back was pressed against the bare skin of Eric's torso, which he felt was almost as ripped as his own. The man was in good shape.

  “It's not fair to do this to me,” Raid brushed the beginnings of tears out of his eyes.

  “What am I doing?”

  “Making me feel safe.” Raid said it almost like an accusation.

  “It is interesting, isn't it, how taking a man's control away and inflicting a modicum of pain makes him feel safe,” Eric said.

  “It's weird.”

  “It's not weird. It reaches the parts of your mind that aren't so caught up in being hurt. It's an instinctual process.”

  Raid shook his head. He didn't like it. He couldn't trust it. You couldn't trust anyone besides yourself. His muscles grew tense as he curled up into a ball of hurt.

  “Stop it, Raid.” Eric no longer sounded nice and comforting. He spoke in a short staccato.

  “Stop what?” Raid took refuge in the sulky reply.

  “Stop trying to shield yourself from this.”

  “I have to. I can't need anyone.” He began to shiver slightly. Strong emotions were warring inside him, confusing him. What Eric offered scared him and intrigued him at the same time.

  “Yes you can,” Eric's hands stroked over Raid's shoulders and down his arms, rubbing him as if trying to warm him.

  “I told you I didn't want to submit.”

  “And I told you that there was no choice.”

  Raid twisted around to make eye contact with Eric. The older man returned his gaze steadily. “You really mean that don't you?”

  “That there is no choice? Yes I mean that,” Eric's lips brushed lightly across Raid's mouth. “I get what I want, Raid, and I want you.”

  Raid whined, a horrid sound that sounded ridiculous to his ears. His helplessness assailed him and threatened to crush him. He wanted nothing more than to tell Eric that he wasn't going to submit to him, but it wasn't just a matter of will, it was a matter of jail time. Eric had captured him in the real sense of the word. He was essentially a slave, if he didn't co-operate, he would lose his freedom entirely. If Eric thought a little kinky play was going to make him resign himself to the fate of a slave, he was much mistaken.

  Chapter Six

  Raid rebelled. Instead of showing up to his first day of work, he partook in a little green and enjoyed a full day of quality programming. First cartoons, then infomercials, then a chat show in which the paternity of various unfortunate infants was contested, then more infomercials, then cartoons. There was a pleasing symmetry to the programming that Raid found restful.