The Perfect Submissive

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The Perfect Submissive Page 8

by Tricia Owens


  Matthew was heading quickly towards subspace. His surrender was nearly complete.

  Rather than direct him, Sebastian allowed Matthew to obey at his own pace. He didn't have to wait long. Matthew nuzzled Sebastian's balls, inhaling deeply and acting as though he had never smelled anything so good. He buried his face against the soft orbs and rested there.

  Sebastian, growing tense with rising arousal, nonetheless didn't push him. He watched as Matthew turned his face and, with eyes closed, pressed his lips to the swollen stem of Sebastian's cock. He dragged his lips slowly, lightly, up to the head where he kissed it with a closed mouth and then, with an open one. The first touch of his tongue to the slit sent a tremor through Sebastian's knees.

  Matthew felt it. His smile curved around the tip of Sebastian's cock. "Did you like that?"

  "I did."

  "Then I'll do it again." And he did, flicking his tongue playfully. This wasn't the same man Sebastian had manhandled in the restroom of the Lonely Diner. This man had released all inhibitions and in doing so found power in it. It was something all submissives learned eventually. Sebastian was happy that Matthew finally had.

  "I thought - I thought I would feel humiliated doing this," Matthew whispered after he drew back to admire the wet tip of Sebastian's cock. "I thought when you started with the 'little boy cock' thing that this would be about making me feel like a girl, or half a man. But you haven't done that. You haven't made me feel embarrassed for - wanting this. I... wanted to tell you I'm grateful." He glanced up from beneath his lashes. "Master."

  Sebastian wanted to be inside him. He wanted to throw Matthew on his back, pin his arms and legs down and fuck him until they both screamed to orgasm. He was amazed at how steady his voice sounded when he replied, "No man deserves to have his dignity stripped from him. I know you believed that was what made a submissive a submissive, but as you're learning... it's nothing like that. I respect the power you've allowed me to have over you. I respect you for using your body to give me pleasure. I value you, Matthew." He tapped the other man's ass with the crop. "My baby sub."

  Matthew scowled but Sebastian could tell he had liked what he'd heard. "Will you let me make you cum?" He swallowed. "And can I cum? I didn't touch myself all night. Even though... like you said, I wanted to."

  "Not a chance," Sebastian said with a chuckle. "Now, put me in your mouth. I want you to feel how hard you make me. I want you to taste the juices that you're making me drip."

  With a pained expression that belied how much his own cock ached, Matthew did as he was ordered. He rested there, hands on the front of Sebastian's thighs, eyes closed while he gently suckled the smooth tip of Sebastian's cock.

  "You're doing very well," Sebastian said, his voice low, mesmerizing. "You're giving yourself to me and I can't help wanting to take care of you. We're linked, Matthew. Like unbreakable rings soldered together. While we're here, no one can tear us apart."

  Matthew opened his eyes and the hope shining in them made them glisten. The depth of his need twisted something in Sebastian's chest. He had planned to wait, but he reached up now and pulled his mask up and over his head. He let it drop to the floor beside the other man's knees.

  Matthew whimpered and closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if the sight of Sebastian's naked face was overwhelming to him. When he opened them again there was a promise there: I will do anything for you if you allow me to.

  Sebastian had to look away, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable. His eyes caught sight of the bulb above the door. It glowed amber.

  "Damnit," he breathed. He was caught aback by his own anger. He tamped it down, lest Matthew see it and misunderstand.

  He put his hand on Matthew's forehead and gently pushed him back. Matthew made a sound of protest but eventually gave in, letting Sebastian's cock slip from his mouth.

  "Stay here," Sebastian told him as he stepped back. He pulled up his zipper even though it was uncomfortable stuffing his erect cock behind the leather. "Don't touch yourself while I'm gone."

  Despite his obvious confusion, Matthew nodded and sat back on his heels. His cock arced away from him, begging for attention it wouldn't receive.

  Sebastian was aggravated, to say the least, when he emerged from room seventeen. Gerri was waiting for him just outside the door, which meant the interruption was serious.

  "The police are here," she told him in an urgent murmur. "Someone vandalized the cars in the lot and your bike seems to be ground zero. They want to go over the damage with you and get some information." She winced. "It's probably Fabian, isn't it?"

  "Let's hope not. Tell them I'll be right there." With an aggrieved sigh, Sebastian re- entered the room. Matthew hadn't moved, which made this more difficult for Sebastian. Matthew had obeyed him and yet he would see this as punishment. "I'm ending our session early today," Sebastian said, keeping his tone light. "Go home. Think about what you did for me. Think about how much you pleased me by doing what I ordered."

  Matthew remained where he sat but turned his head enough to see Sebastian. "Just like that? We were in the middle of something."

  "You'll recover." But Sebastian didn't like cutting things short this way. Matthew needed closure. His pupils were dilated, his body revved and flying. Sebastian told himself it wasn't his fault; the police were waiting. It still left a bad taste in his mouth.

  "You meant what you said earlier," Matthew said. "About a long day. I can see it on your face. Something bad has happened, hasn't it?"

  Sebastian shrugged but Matthew drew up straighter. "I can help with it."

  "Really? You don't know what the problem is."

  "Ha! So there is a problem." Matthew looked smug. "Tell me what it is. I'll fix it, whatever it is."

  "You can't." He softened his tone. "Get up. Get dressed and go home. We're finished, but only for today."

  Matthew stood, but hesitated. "Will you... can I call you? I want to see you again as soon as possible."

  "If I need you I'll find you at the diner." Sebastian was growing distracted as he thought about what awaited him in the parking lot. He detested drama. "Go, Matthew." And then he walked out, leaving a bewildered submissive looking after him.

  Chapter Five

  "This blows," Matthew muttered as he scrubbed half-heartedly at a dried dressing stain in booth three. "This has been the longest night in human history."

  "It's definitely getting there," Theo agreed as he sent Matthew a dirty look. "You've been whining like a bitch non-stop for the last five hours. I thought for sure you'd run out of steam four hours ago."

  "I should just go."

  "And leave me here alone when the rush hits? No way, no how."

  "What rush? All the clubs are closed. Everyone's gone to bed."

  "What about the after-hours clubs, huh?" Theo propped a hand on his hip when Matthew just looked at him blankly. "You need to get out more, girlfriend. After-hours clubs are where the real fun happens."

  "Uh-huh. Except that the real fun never comes here afterwards. We've never gotten a rush after four and you know it." He launched the dirty towel at the counter, pumped his fist when it landed in the dirty dishes bin. "I'm out of here, Theo. Sorry, man, but you don't need me here. I'm bringing you down."

  "You can say that again."

  Matthew sent his friend a sympathetic smile. He knew he'd been a major downer all night. For the last two nights actually, though tonight had probably been the worst. Not hearing from Sebastian in three days had really soured his mood. The only reason he even bothered coming to work was in case Sebastian showed up. Otherwise Matthew would have called in sick and buried himself beneath his bed covers and sulked.

  As he absently untied his apron strings he moved to one of the diner's big front windows and stared longingly at the plain door across the street. Seeking Sebastian at the BDSM club had been an impulsive act of pure desperation. Sebastian had been right: Matthew hadn't slept the night he'd gone to the blond Dom's house. It had been impossible with everything whirl
ing through his head. When the sun came up, Matthew had been a wreck, and he'd been driven by one desire: to find out if what he'd felt -- that moment of surrender in Sebastian's bedroom -- had been a fluke. If that incredible feeling couldn't be replicated then Matthew would know for certain that being a submissive could be fun but that it wasn't who he was. Not deep down.

  He'd found his answer at the Raven, that was for sure. A wistful smile curled his lips. He would give anything to be back in that room with the padded walls, kneeling before the strange porcelain figure of Sebastian. Even though Sebastian had been covered head to toe in leather, hiding every part of him except his mouth and his adorable curls, for the first time during their interactions Matthew had sensed vulnerability in him. Unless he was imagining it, or perhaps projecting, Sebastian had seemed surprised at times and at other times tentatively gentle. It certainly wasn't behavior Matthew had expected of a Dom, though of course Sebastian had already cleared up most of his misconceptions about that. This had been different. Sebastian had acted, well, almost as if he liked Matthew.

  Don't get your hopes up, buddy, warned his more cautious side. You're new to this game.

  Don't go jumping to conclusions about a guy who knows way more than you do about this lifestyle.

  After all, it was girly to believe that he had been the one capable of pulling a genuine reaction from Sebastian. Talk about arrogance. Baby subs had no reason to be arrogant. But his self-criticism faded.

  "Baby sub," he whispered. He couldn't help flashing a proud grin. He was certain, no -- convinced that Sebastian had begun using the term as an endearment near the end. Did he do that with other subs? Was that the problem? Was he staying away from Matthew to try to re-establish distance? Was he, even now, trying not to obsess about Matthew the way Matthew was obsessing about him?

  "I'm going to drive myself crazy," he muttered, dropping his forehead to the glass.

  "Probably, since you drove me there and dropped me off around one o'clock," Theo quipped. He patted Matthew on the back of the head like he would a dog. "Get out of here, girlfriend. You're a wreck and you're bringing down my tip average. Go get laid. That'll clear him from your system."

  "Clear who?"

  "Oh, puh-lease. Anyone can tell you're moping after that cute little Dom like Bella after Edward. It's just as sickening, too."

  Denial rose to Matthew's lips, and just as suddenly it disappeared. He swallowed his pride and turned around. "Don't have a cow, but, we've been sort of seeing each other. Ever since he came to the diner that night."

  The Goth man's eyes widened.

  "I know I swore that I wasn't interested in him and I swear to you that I honestly thought I was a Dom--" Matthew began in a rush.

  "You bitch, I am so jealous!"

  "You-You are? You're not mad that I--"

  "Didn't know that you'd rather have something shoved up your ass than be one?" Theo crossed his arms and smirked. "How could I be mad? I saw it the moment you started working here, sweetheart, but I played along because it was funny." He turned his head and yelled, "Hey, Pele! Looks like you owe me ten bucks!"

  "You little shit!"

  Theo laughed and danced out of range of Matthew's swat. "Oh, girlfriend, it's been a riot listening to you go on about how dominant you are and how you intend to run your stable of little slaves. Huge laughs. It's been great." Theo cocked his hip. "So you're his sub now, huh? Does he make you lick his boots? Do his dishes? Do you sleep in the corner of his bedroom in a dog cage?"

  Matthew blushed fiercely. "I don't do that stuff."

  "No? Then you're not a very good sub. Or maybe you need to be slapped around or whipped." There was a disturbing gleam in Theo that Matthew had never seen before.

  He laughed awkwardly and began backing towards the kitchen. "I'm not into that, and-- and I'm not even sure I'm into this sub stuff, either."

  "You don't know what you want but that's understandable. You're a sub." Theo shrugged as if that explained everything.

  Did it?

  Was Matthew a mess right now because he needed someone to tell him what to do, how to do it and when? Had he become wimpy and malleable but he couldn't see it?

  Troubled by that thought, he clocked out and changed into his street clothes. Even though it was a weeknight the streets held a few stragglers. Matthew passed them by without acknowledging the whistles and drunken invitations sent his way.

  In the club district he encountered small groups of partiers who loitered on the sidewalks or in the streets, reluctant to call it a night. He passed these men by as well, heading towards the only after-hours club he was aware of. It hadn't seemed that inviting when he'd first noticed it because by this point in the night he was usually exhausted and discouraged from his failure in picking up a submissive to dominate. The situation was different now.

  There was no line in front of the open door. It was a hole-in-the-wall, recognizable for what it was only because of the ambient music floating out of its dark interior. With a deep breath, he went in and descended the stairs.

  The place was smaller than he expected, just one rectangular room the size of the Lonely Diner, but it was broken up by Plexiglas pillars that glowed with subtle blue lightning. There wasn't a dance floor but there were plenty of banquettes curled around low, rectangular tables on which people were gyrating or simply posing. There was a lot of posing going on, Sebastian noted, and it wasn't the usual, 'look at me I'm hot', sort of stuff. The guys on the tables were clearly submissives.

  He had to blink twice to make sure, but he couldn't remember being in any other club where the guys wore collars and hot pants and it was considered normal attire. A few here and there was to be expected in gay hotspots, but every single guy on a table here was wearing the so-called uniform of a sub. One was even leashed to a man sitting in the booth beside the table.

  Matthew drifted to the bar, uncertain whether he wanted to stay or leave. His memory of his session with Sebastian warred with his newfound fear that he had become what he loathed: a pathetic joke of a man who couldn't make a decision for himself.

  The bartender noticed him and began walking towards him. His nerves pricked, Matthew stepped away from the bar, intending to walk out.

  And then he saw him.

  He stood against a wall beside a framed photograph of lightning striking a tree. He was in white again, but not the patent leather. Simple black pants and a skintight mock turtleneck with sleeves that extended over the backs of his hands. His pale hair glowed like neon beneath the blue lightning but that didn't detract from his beauty in any way.

  Matthew stood frozen, eyes devouring the sight of Sebastian. Seeing him again didn't make the ache lessen -- it only amplified it, gasoline on a fire. The intensity of his reaction frightened him. It dismayed him. He felt lost again, torn between what he wanted and what he thought he should want if he expected to look in a mirror and see a man.

  He told himself he was stronger than his weakness. He had to be. Otherwise what kind of man was he? If he gave in he'd be just what Theo thought him to be: a slave to his own needs and to any dominant man who came along. Weak. Needy. Clingy.

  Sweating, he took a sidestep towards the front door. Then another. Though he could move, he couldn't pull his eyes away from their adoration of Sebastian. The other man was a balm and Matthew needed that soothing, even from a distance. He saw everything, including the tensing of Sebastian's body and the bloom of anger on his face when a man shorter than he with long brown hair approached and stood in front of him.

  Matthew had to stop. This new guy was well into Sebastian's space. He didn't look like any kind of a physical threat -- maybe 5'4", a buck fifteen, max -- but there was something about his body language that reached across the distance, between all the oblivious clubbers, and tapped Matthew on the shoulder with the grace of a New Jersey punk.

  This newcomer was a submissive, though. That was the confusing part. He wore the slave harness and a black leather thong, although his neck was ba
re. He seemed to be as hyper aware of that bare patch of skin as Matthew, for he kept his chin tilted at an angle, almost baring his throat.

  Taunting, maybe.

  Or challenging.

  This new guy's body language didn't scream sub so much as it screamed angry sub. By Sebastian's expression, the emotion wasn't one-sided.

  Matthew expected Sebastian to hit the other man. Something about the new sub's posture hinted that he expected it, too. But although Sebastian's entire body vibrated with animosity, he slowly crossed his arms and placed one booted foot on the wall behind him. The expression on his face washed clean and in the next moment, looking bored, he gazed over the sub's shoulder, dismissing him from awareness.

  Sebastian didn't see the muscles seize tight along the shorter man's back. But Matthew did and it had him striding across the floor, cutting between people in conversation, catching Sebastian's attention and watching those blue eyes go round as Matthew slapped a heavy hand on the angry sub's shoulder and spun him around.

  "Back off," he ordered.

  The sub was not quite androgynous-looking -- a firm jaw countered the feminine nose, lashes and lips. The long hair contributed to the leanings toward femininity. However the look in his brown eyes made Matthew classify him as ugly.

  "Who are you?" the guy demanded. His voice was irritatingly high, almost affected, like he'd practiced it at home to make it sound that way.

  "I'm--" Matthew faltered. Who was he to Sebastian? They weren't friends in the usual sense. They were definitely more than acquaintances.

  Sebastian answered for him. "He's my sub, Fabian." He smiled. "My personal one."

  His eyes met Matthew's, no dare in it, no doubt about whether Matthew would argue it.

  Resistance, so familiar because Matthew had made it a habit, no -- a shield -- fought back. There was no way he was going to admit to being just like this effeminate Fabian guy.

  "Not exactly," he said, drawing it out.

  He risked a look at Sebastian's face. The smile was gone and its place was... nothing. Just blankness. The Dom may as well have been wearing the white mask he'd had on at the Raven.

 

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