Love Language

by Reese Morrison

  Marco smirked. How much do you like it?

  Ugh. There was something about saying it that still made him feel a little embarrassed, God knew why. People had seen him whipped in this very circle. People had taken turns using him under Richard’s watchful direction.

  And still, he blushed. I like it a lot.

  Marco looked skeptical, but it was an artificial skepticism, letting Greg know that they were entering a scene. I don’t believe you.

  No, I do like it. It’s just… embarrassing.

  Marco stroked him through his tiny blue jockstrap. I can see that.

  He could feel his blush spreading down his chest. He must look like a lobster. And if Marco told him to come now, he probably could just from this squirmy, terrible awareness of being watched.

  But none of them can see how hard you are, can they?

  He was facing Marco, their bodies turned in together. No, Keeper.

  You want to show them, don’t you?

  Did he? When Richard did scenes with him here, he was focused on his Sir, on what he wanted. Knowing that there were people watching him dialed things up a notch, but he’d never really thought about it that much. It turned out, there were a lot of things he hadn’t really thought about with Richard.

  His belly was quivering and turning itself inside out. His cock was rock hard. How was it, at the age of fifty, that Marco was still prying out new kinks that had been locked inside him?

  I want that.

  Make me believe you.

  Please, Keeper. Please… let me show myself to them. He saw Marco nodding, but in this way that said it still wasn’t enough. Please, play with me while they watch. Let them see what my Keeper wants to do with me. He was feeling desperate for it now, the begging making it real.

  Marco seemed to consider. Better. I almost believe you. But maybe you should voice. So that they can hear you. He started stroking Greg with a deliberately light touch.

  Oh fuck, oh fuck. Why was Marco so cruel and magnificent?

  He took a minute to find his voice, then started quietly. “Please, let them see me. Please show them while you play with me.”

  Louder.

  Dammit. Marco couldn’t even hear him. But he was well aware that other ears could.

  “Please, Sir, show me to them. Let them see me.”

  Louder.

  Oh God. This was mortifying. Debasing. People were listening to him. He could see them out of his peripheral vision, and he knew that Marco was watching them start to gather around behind him. And Marco still hadn’t stopped that damn stroking, when he was already so on edge…

  “Please, I want them to see me.” He could hear his own voice getting whiney. Desperate. Crackling. “Please, play with me while they watch.”

  I think I almost believe you now. Stand up.

  Greg stood, still straddling the chair with Marco’s guiding hands on his hips. Marco shifted over to sit on just half of the chair, one of his legs down the middle and the other hanging off the side.

  Hands on the back of the chair, knees here. He pointed.

  Greg clambered back on, one knee to either side of Marco’s leg and his ass sticking out toward the audience. His face was close to Marco’s, but not so close that they couldn’t sign.

  Beg me to let them see your pretty hole.

  Greg hadn’t thought it could get worse, but here it was. He was probably going to die of humiliation up here.

  Keeper, please…

  Voice! Marco commanded. Loudly.

  “Please let them see my p-p-pretty h-hole!” His voice sounded impossibly loud in his own ears, but he knew it was what Marco wanted. God help him.

  Very good, promiser. You may show them. Put your head on my shoulder.

  Greg pressed his cheek to Marco’s shoulder, the lace scratchy on his chin. He breathed in Marco’s scent, then pressed so close to his neck that his lips were touching it, a secret kiss, a tiny little taste. God, he loved this man.

  “Spread yourself for them,” Marco softly voiced, gripping his hips to keep him stable.

  Whimpering, Greg complied. He pulled the strap to one side, spreading himself open. He couldn’t see anything but Marco’s hair, the curve of his neck, his bronzed skin peeking out between the patterns in the black lace. But he could hear the audience behind him calling out dirty things.

  “Show them how you play with yourself. Only on the outside.”

  Every muscle in his body was shaking. It was one thing to know that he was being watched, but this was so… intimate. He was sharing this intimate part of himself with complete strangers. Because his Keeper wanted it.

  He dragged one shaking finger to his hole, every sense attuned. He barely touched himself, but he was already so aroused that the feeling shot through him like lightning. Behind him, someone moaned.

  He heard compliments on his ass, commands to put his finger inside. He only had to listen to his Keeper. But he could still hear everything they were saying. He rubbed himself again, moaning but trying to hold it back.

  “Keep going,” Marco murmured before leaning slightly to the side. He seemed to be moving something around with one hand, maybe something under the chair.

  Greg’s job was to keep touching himself, though, and he did. He heard an appreciative murmur go through the room but didn’t know the cause.

  A moment later, Marco sat up again. “Hands on my shoulders.”

  He was still on display, but at least this was a brief respite.

  Marco was hiding something in his hand, something that flashed blue, though he couldn’t see much with Marco’s fist clenched downward.

  Where had it come from? From the corner of his eye, Greg spotted the messenger bag that Marco had left slung across his chest all night. He’d known it was there but forgotten about it since Marco often carried it with him. What was in there?

  Marco gave him a slow kiss on the lips. You’re beautiful, my promiser.

  Greg felt his heart swell.

  Marco unfurled his hand. A packet of lube and a shiny, blue butt plug. Apparently blue was the theme for the evening. It wasn’t a very large plug. Just a basic one, a simple cone and then a base. But using it now…

  What color?

  It took him a moment to think of anything but blue. Then, he understood.

  He took a deep breath, desire and humiliation warring within him, each pushing the other further. Green.

  Show them how you take it.

  Oh, wait. What? He thought that Marco was going to put it in him. But he had to put it in himself? He felt his heart thump heavily in his chest, his muscles tense. He nuzzled his face into Marco’s neck, lips scratching against that provocative lace, needing assurance.

  Marco ran hands down his back, one still wrapped around the objects. He voiced into Greg’s ear. “You can say no, love. It’s always your choice. I think you would look gorgeous, showing everybody how you get yourself ready for me, but only if you want it, too.”

  That was the mindfuck of the whole thing. When he’d been with Richard, all he had to do was accept what happened, give himself up to his Sir’s control. Let himself be maneuvered and taken and hurt.

  But with Marco, he had to embrace it. He had to act. He had to keep making choices to do what his Keeper wanted him to, brushing right up against his limits in a whole different way. It was so much more difficult, and somehow so much more intense because of it.

  He breathed in Marco’s scent again, centering himself. This was what he wanted. For Marco. And maybe secretly for himself. God, did his Keeper know him well.

  He leaned back a bit, knees still planted on the edge of the seat, hands on Marco’s shoulders. He nodded.

  “So good for me,” Marco crooned. He spread most of the lube on the plug and then indicated that he wanted to put some on Greg’s fingers. So, he was really doing this.

  The chorus of appreciation was louder now. Probably because Marco was looking out at the audience and encouraging them, the bastard.

 
He reached behind and got himself ready, the familiar pinch and twist amplified because he was on display. He buried his face in Marco’s neck again, reaching blindly for the plug.

  Somehow, it was better when he couldn’t see anyone.

  Marco pressed it into his hand, the lube spreading everywhere. This was going to be messy.

  He reached back with one hand then, knowing Marco would want it, moved the other one back to spread himself open.

  His face was so hot he thought he might have a fever.

  “Not too fast. Give them a show.”

  Of course. Of course. Devious fucking Dom. He slid the plug in a little way, shivering as it touched his sensitive rim. Someone yelled for him to shove it all in, but he played with himself like his Keeper demanded.

  He was teasing himself, but teasing his audience, too. It was a heady feeling, knowing that everyone was getting off watching him. Watching his gorgeous, young Dom control him.

  With a few more tugs, it was all the way in. He felt his shoulders droop with relief.

  Marco chuckled in his ear. “So proud of you.”

  Greg could feel himself smiling into his shoulder. He loved making his Keeper proud.

  Then Marco leaned to the side again to dig something from his bag. It was a hand towel. Definitely clean, because Greg had laundered it himself, but a bit stained. So very Marco. Greg used it to wipe his hands. It was stupid, but it made him feel a bit more comfortable.

  Sit down, Marco instructed, maneuvering both of them until Marco was sitting evenly on the chair and Greg was straddling him again. The plug jostled inside him, adding to that squirmy feeling of vulnerability and desire. How are you feeling?

  Embarrassed. Nervous. Marco raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest of it. Really turned on.

  Marco smirked. Ready for more?

  There was more?

  Yes? he signed tentatively. Keeper, he added, feeling the submission settle into him.

  Greg gave him another sensuous kiss. I love seeing you like this. Flushed and decomposed and doing it all for me.

  Me too, he admitted.

  I know. That’s why I do it. Marco was pleased, and that was all that Greg needed to be happy, too.

  Let’s show them what else you have. Stand up, and then sit on the chair.

  Greg complied immediately, turning and sitting once Marco stood up. What he hadn’t planned on was all the faces. They’d been voices before, kind of abstract, a soundtrack and some props to Marco’s game.

  Now they were real people. Men and women, Doms and subs. Some were touching their partners. Some were touching themselves. They were all watching him with hungry eyes.

  Marco caught his attention with a swipe of his hand. Legs apart.

  And oh, that was worse. Or better. Maybe both. Because now everyone was watching him present himself at his Keeper’s command, and he could see them too. And the plug was teasing him, making him aware of it with every tiny shift.

  “What should we do now?” Marco mused, as if to himself. Except that he wasn’t really musing, because he was voicing, which meant he was playing up to the audience.

  Marco turned to face them fully. “Any ideas?”

  What? What the hell was this? Audience participation? Marco, that sadistic bastard, seemed to be loving it. And Greg was discovering that his exhibitionism and shame kinks went a lot deeper than he realized. Fuck.

  Someone raised a hand, not like in elementary school, more a half salute that was high enough to get Marco’s attention.

  “Oh,” Marco remarked casually. “I’m Deaf so you’ll have to have my sub translate for you.”

  What the… seriously? Seriously, really? Marco knew he didn’t really like interpreting. And to do it now, signing all the dirty things that the audience would say… He was probably going to die of embarrassment on the spot.

  Which totally explained why his jock strap was so wet it was practically transparent.

  He glared at Marco, who seemed to find his defiance amusing. “Color?” he voiced and signed at the same time.

  “Green,” Greg answered in the same fashion, through gritted teeth. Where did Marco get all these twisted, impossible ideas?

  “Go ahead,” he said to the man. “Anyone can just call out.”

  Greg had forgotten about this side of Marco. The outgoing, crowd-pleasing side that usually only came out when he was in a Deaf group.

  “Spank his ass,” the first voice said.

  And Greg had to repeat it, the signs vulgar and obvious even to a hearing audience. Marco watched and nodded, a glint in his eye.

  Show us how you take a dildo. Fuck your boy. I bet he’d like a nice flogging. Yeah, turn his ass red.

  Greg was already red. He felt like he was flushed from head to toe. It was like he was sitting alone in the spotlight, everyone seeing how horribly humiliated and aroused he was.

  Take off your thong. Show us your dick. Get yourself off. Yeah, touch yourself. Show us how you suck your Dom. No, he should take his ass.

  It was all pretty tame stuff, but repeating it like this, making himself own the dirty things the audience was saying, was driving him crazy. He was pretty sure the voyeurs were just calling stuff out now to make him squirm when he had to translate it.

  One voice cut through. “I’d like to see my boy sucking you off.”

  Greg looked up, and then kept staring. Because the Dom was rough and tattooed and muscular, and his sub even more so. Muscles on top of muscles, tattoos snaking down his arms and covering his chest. Even kneeling with a collar and a leash, he looked dangerous. They were both so young, so strong, and so completely out of Greg’s league.

  He was just an old fool, a middle-level manager at a boring old company, who was probably only handsome in Marco’s eyes.

  And somehow, that one was even worse to repeat, even more awkward and shameful and delicious.

  Marco held up one hand, cutting everyone else off. What was that again?

  Greg sucked in a breath. He wants his boy to suck me off.

  Who?

  They both turned to face the other couple.

  Marco stalked over to them, looking the much taller Dom right in the eye. They were a study in contrasts, Marco small and ethereal, the Dom solid and hulking. But Marco dominance had nothing to do with his size. “Are you offering your boy’s services?”

  The Dom snickered. “He’s eager for it. Look at him.”

  Greg couldn’t help it. The other sub was hot. Impossibly, dangerously so. He felt almost a little guilty thinking it, especially since he was so different from Marco.

  But no one could ever eclipse Marco in his eyes. And now Marco might be giving him an experience with this boy as… as a present, maybe.

  The boy looked up, eyes still lowered from his master’s, but meeting Greg’s. He did want it. He really wanted it. No, he wanted Greg. Boring, fifty-year-old Greg with his flabby belly and wrinkled eyes.

  It was flattering and a different type of embarrassing.

  Marco turned to face him. You want this, promiser?

  He was mostly, maybe ninety percent, sure that he did. Because everyone would still be watching, maybe evaluating his performance. And the sub was really young and hot, too good for him, like he’d thought about Marco when they first met. He didn’t want to mess this up. If it pleases you…

  Marco voiced and signed at the same time. “Oh no. Not just if it pleases me. I want you to beg me for it.”

  It was like every time he thought he was absolutely going to die of shame, Marco managed to push him one step further. It had been bad just begging when he couldn’t see anyone, but this was going to be much, much worse.

  Please, Keeper, let him suck me, he requested. Politely.

  “They can’t hear you.”

  Dammit. “Please, let him suck me.” He sounded weak and desperate. Now that he was saying it, he wanted it. Needed Marco to give it to him.

  Marco’s smile was beautiful and cruel.

  “Of c
ourse, there is another choice.” Marco walked swiftly to the messenger bag and withdrew the flogger.

  “What do you think, promise?” Hearing the word in English, even changed a little, made him warm inside. He loved that Marco was sticking to their names.

  “Um…” Greg stalled with his hands, looking between the flogger and the sub, all tattooed and eager and dangerous. What was he supposed to choose? What did Marco want? What did he even want?

  Marco trailed the flogger gently over his shoulders. “I suppose you think you’ve been good enough for both?”

  “I…” he didn’t know what to say beyond that. Had he been good enough?

  Marco’s Dom face relaxed, his love showing through. “It’s our anniversary tonight,” he said tenderly, “I think that’s good enough for anything you want.”

  And then Greg was melting inside in a totally different way, Marco’s adoration coursing through him. Of course, Marco had remembered. Of course, Marco was giving him everything he needed.

  “I love you, Keeper.” He realized it was the first time he’d said the title aloud. It felt strange on his lips, but right, too.

  He heard some “awwwws” from the audience, but he didn’t care who was listening. He just needed Marco to know how much he loved him.

  “So, both, I think,” Marco voiced, getting them back on track.

  Yep, he was going to die.

  Stand and hold the back of the chair.

  Marco turned the chair, so that when Greg held on to the back, he’d be giving the audience his profile.

  Arms straight, ass out.

  Humiliating. Vulnerable. Exciting.

  Marco walked over to address the Dom but pitched his voice loud enough that Greg could hear.

  “Thanks for lending me your boy.”

  Greg always loved that kind of talk, like he was just an object. He wondered what the boy thought of it.

  “No problem,” the man smirked. “He needs to be used.”

  Yeah, the boy was probably in favor, assuming that his relationship with his Dom was as strong as it looked from his body language. Now this would be embarrassing and sexy for him and this total stranger together.

  “I’d normally use safe words in sign language, but I’m going to be focusing on my sub, and I might not be able to see your boy.” Marco was still talking to the Dom, but clearly for the sub’s benefit. “I’ll be able to give him commands, but I won’t be able to answer any questions or understand what he’s saying unless he’s looking directly at me. So, if he safewords, I’ll expect you to step in and make sure he gets what he needs. Just wave your arm, and once I see you, I’ll stop. He won’t be restrained in any way, either, so he can also just move away if he needs to. Does that work for you?”