Hesitant Heart

by Morticia Knight

  Sam was cuffed, Aaron as silent as he always was when he tied or played with Sam’s body. Sam had already learned not to twist or turn to follow Aaron’s movements. If he did that, Aaron would leave the room, telling Sam he would wait until Sam was ready to submit. Then he would check in on him a little while later. Sam had never made him go more than once.

  The sounds of Aaron preparing something behind him had him on alert, his nerves building. The large oak cabinet doors creaked, followed by the shuffling of some unknown contents. Sam tensed, clenching his fists and curling his toes. He jumped when Aaron placed his large, soft hand on his back.

  “Shh, easy. Submit to me, little Sam. Let me take you away.”

  He used his breathing the way Aaron had taught him. Right as he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, Aaron tied a blindfold over them. He exhaled on a sigh. Even though he was still nervous, he knew that Aaron would keep him safe.

  Aaron pressed something cool and hard against his ass. As he slowly circled it on his skin, Sam could tell that it was smooth, almost like a stone. It was removed then something else was pressed lightly on his flesh in the same area. He jumped, fighting the urge to clench his fists and make Aaron leave. There were many tiny little prickles. The instrument was rolled back and forth, bringing the surface of his skin alive. Then it was removed and the original smooth object soothed the spot that had been treated to the tiny pin pricks.

  It’s the ivory brush.

  Aaron had let Sam hold it once. He’d explained that it was his favorite implement, and that he would use it on Sam one day when he thought he was ready. The prickles would have been the stiff horsehair bristles, the smooth part the flat oval surface of the back of the brush. He remembered the handle being perfect for Aaron’s hand, a graduation at the end that tapered to the head—an ideal shape for Aaron’s sure grip.

  A light draft of Aaron’s heated breath tickled his ear. “Do whatever you need to do in order to take this, little Sam. Struggle, yell. I won’t leave your side.”

  Aaron pressed a kiss to his temple right as the first smack of the smooth surface of the brush hit his ass. Sam jerked forward as much as he was able, gritting his teeth as he yanked on the restraints. It had been a sharper sting than any he’d experienced before at Aaron’s hand. The next one landed on the opposite cheek and the burn increased. Alternating blows to his flesh built the pain.

  And it was pain. It was all-encompassing and overwhelming in its intensity. It occurred to him that he’d been yelling. Aaron had been right. He’d needed to do that. His strength waned with each vicious blow to his abused skin and the tears flowed freely. The plea for mercy hovered at the corners of his consciousness where it had never existed up until that moment.

  The beating stopped. Aaron petted his backside and Sam hissed. It was almost soothing, but his battered flesh would require more than a simple caress to feel better. He keened and moaned, not sure if he could support his own weight enough to keep from simply sagging in the cuffs.

  “I’m so proud of you, Sam. See how strong you are?” The sound of Aaron’s voice was its own balm. “You are my treasure.”

  Sam could sense that they weren’t done yet and that Aaron had given him praise to help him get through the rest of Aaron’s blows to his sore ass. The bristled part of the brush rolled across his shoulders. He had a brief moment of panic when he worried that Aaron would apply the rough bristles to his heated, beaten skin. Sweat formed on his forehead and upper lip. He trembled. Aaron stopped.

  “Trust me, sweet Sam.”

  He exhaled loudly, not even aware that he’d been holding his breath. He focused on regulating his intake and outtake of air until his shaking stopped.

  “That’s it. Good boy. So beautiful in your surrender.”

  Aaron continued to roll the spiky hairs across his back then trailed lower until he reached the upper swell of Sam’s ass. He didn’t tense. He kept his breathing even and regular. Aaron wouldn’t take him any further than he could handle. Then Aaron pressed the brush against his skin at the top of his thighs. He had completely avoided Sam’s tender rear end.

  The back of his thighs were incredibly sensitive, much more than he would have thought. As Aaron moved closer to behind his knees, Sam’s whimpering increased and he instinctively tried to pull away from the sharp stings of the bristles. He never spoke when Aaron worked on his body, but the pricks sent jolts of electricity up his spine and down to the soles of his feet. He couldn’t escape, couldn’t make it stop.

  “Ahh—God, no.”

  “Mercy?”

  Sam shook his head vigorously. He didn’t need that. Not yet. Aaron continued and when he twisted the brush over his calves it almost tickled, bordering on being a good sensation. It was then that he let go and actually experienced it. He couldn’t believe that each spot on his body had a different reaction to the bristles. It was fascinating. Aaron was a genius.

  Once Aaron had reached his heel and ankle, his perception of it changed to an edginess, as if it were on the verge of causing a sensation, but never followed through. Aaron encouraged him up on tiptoes and rolled it under the arch of his foot. A laugh bubbled up from him at the jarring contrast between the tickle and the stings. Then Aaron moved to the other foot, and continued the journey up the other side.

  By the time Aaron had reached his shoulders again, Sam had completely relaxed into the experience. He’d even begun to float somewhere above himself as if he weren’t attached to his body anymore. It was very strange, yet comforting at the same time. Without the ability to see, there was nothing to distract him from what Aaron’s hand wrought on his flesh.

  Agonizing pain seared through him, a hurt so piercing that he thought he might faint from it. Each thwack of the brush seemed as if it tore him to shreds. Somehow, the respite from the beating had made it more severe once Aaron had resumed striking him. He openly cried, but he didn’t ask for mercy. He would accept the torment of his body to please his lover.

  The floaty sensation he’d begun to experience when Aaron had used the bristles washed over him in a powerful wave. He embraced it, collapsed into the safety of its arms and drifted away. Nothing mattered except for him and Aaron. He was loved, truly loved.

  At some point—he wasn’t sure when—the blows had ceased. He was aware of being carried in the assured embrace of his lover, the man who owned every part of him. In and out of consciousness, the next impression he had was that he’d been laid face down on the cool sheets of their bed. A paper straw was pressed to his lips and he sucked water from it eagerly.

  After he’d finished drinking, the mattress dipped and he hissed as something was carefully rubbed into his heated, stinging skin. The scent of the Arnica reached his nostrils. Something else pierced the haze of his mind—Aaron’s calming voice. Sam wasn’t sure what was being said, his mind still wasn’t able to latch on to things completely, but the sound reassured him.

  Don’t go away. I need you.

  He couldn’t say it, didn’t have the strength. In his daze he believed that if he thought it hard enough, Aaron would hear him. It seemed as if he had because when Sam opened his eyes somewhat, Aaron was lying on his side next to him. Aaron gazed at him in wonder as he stroked his hair from his face, caressed his cheek and told him how amazing he was over and over.

  “Are you back with me, sweet, strong Sam?”

  “Mmm…little Sam.”

  Aaron’s smile made him lighter, his touch made him whole.

  “Of course. But you’re also sweet and strong. Do you believe me?”

  “I believe you, Sir.”

  “Good. Let’s rest. Tomorrow we’re going out, so that I can get you something special.”

  “You’re special.”

  Aaron chuckled. “And so are you, but you’ll like this. I promise.”

  “Okay.”

  Sam wanted to scoot over to get closer to Aaron so that their skin would touch, but he was so sore he couldn’t even roll onto his side. He reached one hand out
to clutch at Aaron.

  “I want you too, Sam. Here—cover me.”

  Aaron moved onto his back then grabbed Sam’s arm to pull him over. Sam used his legs to propel himself toward Aaron, but he cried out in pain. Lifting him effortlessly, Aaron had wrapped one arm around his shoulders then grasped his thigh to hoist him on top of Aaron’s torso. Sam wriggled until he got himself into a good position.

  “Are you okay like this?”

  Sam thought he heard the slightest hint of nervousness in Aaron’s voice, but it was most likely due to how fuzzy everything still was in his head. And anyway, he was so much more than okay.

  “Mmm…yes. Like it.” Sam yawned. “I’m not squashing you?”

  Aaron laughed softly. “Good Lord no. You’re comfortable? My bones aren’t poking you?”

  Squirming some more, Sam adjusted himself until his head rested in the crook of Aaron’s neck, his thin chest resting against Aaron’s broader one. The soft curls on Aaron’s torso didn’t tickle him. They only reminded Sam of how much Aaron’s body excited him, how his strength and masculinity thrilled him.

  “’S’perfect.” He was so tired.

  “That’s good, little Sam. Now sleep.”

  Aaron draped one arm across his back to hold him and clasped Sam’s hand, bringing it to his lips. He kept their fingers intertwined.

  * * * *

  Aaron wasn’t certain how long they’d slept, but it was dark outside. He could hear the tick of the clock on the nightstand, but he didn’t want to twist to check the time in case he disturbed Sam. Sweet, brave Sam.

  It was the first time he’d really tested Sam’s boundaries, had pushed him so hard. In truth, he hadn’t expected him to surrender the way he had. Aaron knew the pain must have been shocking to him, yet he hadn’t backed away from it. He’d taken it.

  It was also the first time Aaron had ever experienced his own trepidation working with a submissive man and it bothered him. It was vital that he maintain the upper hand or else the man submitting to him wouldn’t have the freedom to completely let go. How could he, if Aaron needed reassuring? He knew much of it was because of the deep love he had for Sam. Even though he’d yearned for that type of love for many years, he hadn’t been prepared for the enormity of it when it had finally happened.

  He gently played his fingers along Sam’s back then through his hair. After he eased Sam awake, he would apply more cream to his bruised ass then help prop him up enough in bed so that he could feed him. One thing Aaron appreciated about California was the preponderance of citrus. He had some oranges that he would peel for his Sam. Then he would feed him some cold chicken they had left in the ice box from the night before. He wanted to pamper Sam.

  I’d also like to kill his father.

  Aaron wasn’t an inherently violent man. His proclivities had nothing to do with wanting to cause harm. It was merely an exchange of power between two men, a way for them to meet each other’s needs. Once Aaron had accepted his true nature as being perfectly normal he’d become more capable of giving Sam what he needed to be successful as a submissive.

  “Sir?”

  Sam’s voice sounded very small and Aaron had a twinge of concern. Their love, their explorations together were still so new. Even though everything they shared was a revelation to Sam, in many ways it was for Aaron too. He’d never before been in the position where he could dedicate his energies completely to a submissive the way he’d been able to with Sam.

  “Yes, I’m here. How do you feel right now?”

  There was a pause as if Sam was carefully forming his words. “Fine.”

  Aaron hugged him. “Truth. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on with you right?”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m complaining or that I’m mad about what you did to me.”

  “You are my sweet, loving boy, but I still need to hear the truth. Are you mad about it, mad at me?”

  Sam gasped, raising his head from where he’d had it tucked on Aaron’s shoulder.

  “No! I love you.” Sam’s voice was still raspy and sleep-tinged.

  Aaron jostled him lightly. “You can love me with you all your heart and still be mad at me. That’s okay.”

  “But it’s not true.”

  Aaron placed his hand on Sam’s head to encourage him to rest it again. “All right. Then what is true? This was a very heavy session for you, much more than you’ve ever done. We should talk about it.”

  “Okay.”

  “I know the pain was bad, very bad even. Yet you didn’t ask for mercy. Why is that? Do you know?”

  There was a long pause and even though Aaron was sure that Sam was formulating his thoughts, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d dozed off again. He still had to be completely drained from what he’d been through.

  Sam wiggled then lifted his head again. “I believe you know what’s best for me, that you thought it was something I needed.” He creased his brow. “And I wanted to make you proud. I wanted to do it for you.”

  Aaron planted a soft kiss on Sam’s lips.

  “I was. I am incredibly proud of you. But I want you to understand that you must always ask for mercy if it’s too much for you. I won’t be disappointed, little Sam.”

  “Okay.”

  Sam picked at the curls on his chest. It was something Sam did a lot when they held each other or were talking like they were at the moment. Aaron thought it was quite adorable and he never discouraged or asked him to stop.

  “Can I ask you something about it though?”

  “Of course. What is it, sweet boy?”

  “Something strange happened. It was almost like I floated away and wasn’t in my body anymore. It seemed as if when the pain got worse, I felt it even less. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes, little Sam. That’s why some submissives crave very harsh beatings. They yearn for that feeling. I’m not sure if you are that type of submissive. Even though I’m not a Dominant man who has ever sought out that extreme of a submissive, if we discovered together that that was what you needed, I would give it to you.”

  “So you think that’s what I am? A submissive who craves being beaten very hard?”

  “No, not really. But I want you to feel secure in telling me whatever it is that you do need. I will never mock you or tell you that you’re wrong for how you feel.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  Sam plucked at more hairs. He yanked one a little too hard.

  Aaron jumped. “Ow.”

  “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle at the distress in Sam’s voice.

  “Ssh. No harm. I was more surprised than anything.”

  Sam petted the hairs, as if soothing the hurt.

  “So what kind of submissive do you think I am? If I don’t like being hit a lot, then why didn’t I mind what we just did?”

  “I don’t want to put any ideas into your head about who you are. That’s your own discovery and I’m here to facilitate what you need, to guide and care for you. But I can help you understand what happened today a bit more by telling you that sometimes the pain isn’t there just for sexual excitement. Sometimes it’s needed to take you out of your body so you can float away and let go of all your worries.”

  Sam became very still, and he stopped stroking Aaron’s chest. At last, he nodded.

  “Yes. I understand. And you’re right. I’m not that other kind of submissive. But I’m glad we did what we did today. I needed it.”

  Aaron hugged his boy to him, the bond that had already formed between them becoming even more interwoven.

  “I’m glad too, little Sam.”

  Very glad.

  Chapter Ten

  Sam was restless. He hadn’t had his morning spanking because his ass was so bruised and tender from the previous day. Aaron had refused to administer it. He couldn’t argue with Aaron, so he wasn’t sure what he should do. Instead of the spanking, Aaron had ordered him to stand in a new position with his h
ands clasped behind his head and his feet shoulder length apart. It had also been required that he maintain an erection. He’d made Sam stand in that position for fifteen minutes but at the time, it had seemed to go on for hours.

  Every few minutes, Aaron would walk into the bedroom and check his posture, his stance. If he wasn’t perfectly straight or his shoulders had sagged or his dick had softened, Aaron would lightly tap the offending area with the wooden spoon. The smack on the top of his semi-erect cock had done the trick. He’d hardened up immediately.

  For what he was sure was the hundredth time that morning, he was up on his toes and twisting around to see the marks on his ass in the bathroom mirror while Aaron was in another part of the house. It wasn’t that he needed proof that they were there. He felt them to his bones. He wanted to admire them. Even with the repeated use of the Arnica, the bruises were colorful. He didn’t want to be bruised that badly all the time, but he did want to appreciate it when it did occur.

  “Little Sam, what are you up to in here?”

  Sam squeaked and whipped around to face Aaron. His lover was quiet like a cat—Sam never knew when he might unexpectedly appear. He thought that Aaron probably did it on purpose. Aaron cupped the back of his neck and pulled him in for a few quick swipes in his mouth.

  “I know you miss your spanking. Perhaps we can do a light one tomorrow morning. We’ll see how you feel.”

  Sam sighed, nodding happily.

  “Good boy. Now, if you wanted to see your marks, you should have asked. No hiding. Is that what you want?”

  “Yes, Sir. Please.”