Beautiful boy (19 page)

The man made me think of a weasel, with a longish nose, small eyes, and an oddly pointy face. I returned the smile he sent me, but I wanted to take another shower when he stepped out of the elevator. I was grateful I had two floors to get a hold of myself. I rolled my shoulders and tried to forget about it. I didn’t usually let people get to me like that—I was the CEO of my company, for fuck’s sake—but that guy did.

Kyle opened the door, his smile wide on his gorgeous face. The second I was inside the loft, I dropped my bag and yanked him in, wrapping him tightly in my arms. Then I crushed his mouth with my own, thrilling at the way his arms wrapped around me just as tightly, at the moan he let loose into the kiss.

I didn’t let go for a long time. When I finally did, we were both gasping for breath and our cocks were hard. I grinned at him. “Hi.”

He laughed. “Hi yourself. I like that kind of greeting.”

“Me too.” I brushed my fingers over his face. “I missed you.”

His cheeks reddened. “I missed you too,” he murmured. “This week sucked.”

I nodded. “Oh fuck yes.” I shoved the emotion back for the moment and let my smile turn a little evil. “Though I bet it was worse on you, wasn’t it?”

His eyes crossed. “You have no idea. I’ve been hard pretty much constantly since edging last night.”

“Oh good boy,” I purred, leaning in and biting at his neck.

He was naked as I’d ordered, and he shivered, goose bumps rising on his soft skin. He moaned as I sucked in the skin just above his collar and worried it into a nice dark bruise. I kissed it lightly, then stood, stepping back.

“Middle of the room. Present, boy.”

He immediately did as ordered. I pulled my coat off and tossed it over a chair, then pretty much stalked around him, inspecting him critically. He’d shaved carefully, the only hair left on him the mop on his head, his eyebrows, and the light downy hair on his arms. He looked completely smooth everywhere else.

He had the new nipple rings in I’d sent him, slightly thicker than the others, with an emerald as the catch bead. He’d put in the thicker PA ring he had, that one also with a catch bead instead of the open ring he’d had before. He was as hard as I’d ever seen him, his cock red, tip almost purple and quite wet with precum.

“How many edges today, boy?”

“Seven, Master,” he said after clearing his throat.

“And last night?”

“The five you told me to, Master.”

I nodded. “Good. And your ass?”

He licked his lips. “Stretched and lubed as you ordered me, Master.”

“Beautiful.” I glanced around and considered where I wanted him, then stepped up and leaned in to speak in his ear. “I’m going to fuck you, fill you with my cum, then plug it up. You’ll keep it in you all night.”

I loved the sounds he made when he was aroused, like the one he made now in his throat.

“Yes, Master,” he said, breathless.

“But you won’t come, boy. If I’m feeling generous, you’ll get an orgasm tonight, but I’m seriously tempted to make you wait until Sunday morning.”

He gave a full whimper at that. I knew how frustrated he was already, and my cock strained against the leather at the expression on his face. I cupped his balls. “How are these feeling, boy?”

“Full, Master. Heavy and swollen,” he said, pure distress in his voice.

“Good. Good boys….”

“Should always be horny,” he replied promptly, though he didn’t sound very happy about it in that moment.

That was fine with me. I
was
a sadist, after all. And as long as he didn’t call his safeword, I was certainly going to satisfy that part of me when I could. “Exactly, boy. I like you aroused and frustrated. I like knowing these balls are full for me. You like serving me too, don’t you?”

Kyle nodded several times. “Yes, Master. I love serving you, even if….” He paused and I raised an eyebrow. “Even if I don’t like what I’m doing. I like knowing it pleases you.”

I kissed his temple. “And it does, boy. Very much. Now, over the couch, ass in the air,” I ordered him.

He scrambled to obey, and when he was in position, I spread his cheeks, my cock jumping when I saw he had, in fact, obeyed me. He was slicked up, and I could tell he’d stretched himself well. I freed my hard cock, tugged out the packet of lube I’d put in my pocket earlier, then slicked my length up, groaning at how good it felt already.

His hole flexed as he waited, and I gave him a few more seconds of anticipation before pushing through and burying myself balls-deep in one thrust. He whimpered, and the sound dragged a loud moan from me. “Fuck, boy, I’ve missed this ass,” I muttered. I gave myself just a moment, then reminded him, “No coming, boy,” and started moving.

I didn’t give him a chance to get too used to me. I fucked him hard, fast, chasing my orgasm with a single-minded determination. I let his sounds of need propel me further, and in almost no time, I felt my balls drawing up. I hadn’t masturbated since the day before, and I knew there’d be plenty of cum to fill his ass. When I let the orgasm take me, I wasn’t disappointed.

“Fuck!” I shouted, slamming home and holding myself deep inside him as I came. When his muscles flexed around me, it reminded me I was bare. Knowing my spunk was staying there, knowing I really was filling
him
,
not a condom, made me spurt again, sending another minor jolt through me.

I stayed there for a long moment, loath to leave his wonderful tight body, kissing his back as he nearly vibrated around me in need. Wrapping my arms around him, I ghosted my fingers over his straining cock. “Oh so hard, boy,” I murmured into his ear, thrilling in his sounds. I cupped his balls and squeezed, pulling an almost shout from him. “So needy. You’re gorgeous like this, boy.” After toying with his balls and cock for a little longer, savoring his nearly desperate sounds, I asked, “How does it feel, boy, to have me fucking you, knowing you’re not allowed to come?”

“Frustrating,” he groaned loudly. “So frustrating. And… arousing,” he confessed.

I brushed my lips over his neck. “And I like knowing it frustrates and arouses you. Good boy,” I praised, then kissed his back again and eased out of him. “Hold that in there,” I warned him. He whimpered but nodded, and I stopped to appreciate his ass muscles flexing as he obeyed.

I retrieved the bag I’d dropped earlier and dug into it. The plug I’d bought specifically for him was as thick as me. Though not nearly as long, it was shaped and textured like a veined dick. A thin stem led to a narrow base made to be held in by a strap. Once I got the head past his sphincter, his ass sucked it the rest of the way, accompanied by a moan from him. “How does that feel?”

“Good. Big,” he said, voice strained.

“You going to be okay with it in?”

He nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Very good, boy. Stand up.”

He did and I pulled out the next piece. The black leather straps of the chest harness framed his lean pecs nicely, showing his nipple rings wonderfully. They crisscrossed at a wide, round ring in the center of his chest. The long front strap fell from that ring and ended in a second metal ring. I lined the second ring with a silicone version and fitted it—carefully—over his still-hard cock and tight balls. He moaned as I settled it, and I grinned.

Another strap went from the cock ring between his asscheeks, threading through the slots in the base of the plug, then stretching up to a ring on his back to match the one on his chest. Once it was in place, I adjusted it so the straps held the plug firmly in place, where he couldn’t push it out if he wanted to, and I had him stand. “Feel okay?”

“Yes, Master,” he said, looking down at himself. He looked dubious and I chuckled.

“Don’t worry, there’s more. You’re not going out like that.” I couldn’t resist the laugh at the relief on his face.

“Sorry, Master,” he mumbled, cheeks reddening.

I kissed each one. “No need.”

Next came the jock strap. This earned another frown, but he didn’t say anything as I worked his cock and balls through the hole in the front and helped him settle the black leather straps in place. I kept him guessing on the open hole as I pulled out the chaps.

His eyes widened. “Those are gorgeous!” He reached a hand out and petted the butter-soft black leather.

I grinned. “They’ll look even better on you.”

It took a bit to get them in place and adjusted. “Your ass is amazing framed by leather,” I murmured, running a hand over it. “I’m going to have to redden this before we go. It’d be a shame not to.”

“Wouldn’t want to waste the opportunity,” he said, eyes twinkling.

I laughed. “Oh, I’m going to have to use the paddle, I think, for that.”

He blushed but his lips twitched, and I knew he was looking forward to it.

“Final piece of this,” I said, pulling out the pouch that went with his jock. It was made of an open weave of leather strips and snapped in place over the front straps and between his legs, snugly holding him. His dick and balls were still very obvious behind the mesh, looking altogether delicious and exposed.

I stepped back, looking him over. “You are gorgeous, boy. You ought to see yourself. Upstairs to the mirror.”

He headed for the steps and I followed, eyeing his ass as we went. The red plug showed nicely, making it obvious what it was and spreading his cheeks just enough to make me want to completely forget our plans, paddle his ass until it was bright red, then spend the rest of the night fucking him into the mattress.

I shook my head at myself when we reached the loft and crossed to the long mirror on his closet.

His eyes got huge as he inspected his reflection. “Wow.”

“You can say that again,” I rumbled, running my hand down over his chest. I cupped his package, squeezing slightly. “This stays hard tonight, as much as possible. I like seeing it like this.”

He swallowed, but said, “Yes, Master.” He stared for another moment. “It… almost doesn’t look like me.”

I blinked at him. “What do you mean by that?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I just…. It’s…. Never mind.”

“No, tell me,” I said, turning him.

He shook his head, refusing to look at me. “Really, it’s okay.”

I frowned. “Do I need to make a new rule, boy?”

His color faded a little. “W-Why?”

I studied his face for a long moment. “Remember how I said nothing works between us if we don’t talk? That goes for answering questions, telling me when something’s wrong.”

He bit his lip and I ran my thumb over it. “Shit,” he mumbled.

“Okay, first, you broke the lip-biting rule. That’s five. Have you bitten your lip otherwise since Wednesday?”

“Once,” he said, still not meeting my eyes.

“All right, that’s ten. Next, I’m going to put a new rule in place. If I ask you a question, you answer it unless you have a
really
good reason not to. And I will determine if the reason you give me is good or not. Communication, boy.”

He frowned but nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Now. Do you want to tell me why you said it almost doesn’t look like you?” He hesitated for so long, I growled, “Boy….”

“I—I—I don’t look that good!” he blurted, cheeks turning bright red. “I’m not hot, not… not, I….” He shook his head.

“Says who?” I demanded.

“Everyone!” he said, turning to his reflection again. The look on his face tore at my heart. He looked close to tears.

I had no idea what he was seeing, but all I saw was my beautiful boy. When I said as much, he met my gaze in the mirror.

“But….” He looked back at himself and shook his head. “I’m not beautiful, Master,” he whispered.

“I say you are. Rule number four: no putting yourself down.”

His eyes widened and he stared at me. “Master?”

“Yes, boy. Our words have impact. What we say to ourselves is as important as what others say. I said something like this before, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Master.” The misery on his face made me want to punch his parents and everyone else who let this beautiful boy think he was anything but.

“Good. Repeat your rules to me.”

“One: I must give you my opinion if I have one and tell you I don’t when I don’t, but only if I really
don’t
have one. Two: no biting my lip.” Here he gave a small smile, and I returned it, nodding. “Three: I must answer any questions unless there’s a really good reason, which you will decide. And four: I must not talk down about myself.”

“Very good, boy.” I pulled him against me, wrapped my arms around him, and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Master.”

“You’re welcome. Now. I think downstairs, over the bar for your punishment.”

“Yes, Master.”

A SHORT
time later, he was wincing as he settled into my car. I’d managed to make all ten swats give a good, lasting impression. And a nice red ass.

The ride from his loft to the Asylum didn’t take all that long, for which I was grateful. Kyle was quiet, and I was betting he was trying to absorb what had happened at his loft. I still didn’t quite get how someone as gorgeous as he was could think so poorly of his looks, but I guessed anyone as ignored and rejected as Kyle was, was bound to have self-esteem issues.

Once we got inside the club, he pulled off the long T-shirt he’d worn to cover his ass and chest and tucked it into my bag. I reached into his jock and stroked his cock until he was gasping and it was as hard as it’d been earlier, then resettled the leather to show it to best advantage. I loved that it bulged quite a bit, and patted it before stepping back.

“Turn around,” I ordered and he did so. He had two lovely handprints, one on each cheek, and the impression of the paddle in three separate places when I’d given him the harder hits. The rest of his ass was a nice, bright red. I ran my hand over it, making him groan and rock unintentionally. “Beautiful, boy. Behind me.”

Sammy sat on a love seat in the corner, Cam at her feet. I turned to the rest of the room to see who might be there. A few Doms I didn’t know were there, as well as a few I did but hadn’t seen much since I left the scene after Blake’s death. I saw Nash in another corner talking to an almost waifish girl with long dark hair, pale skin, and wearing a plain black collar. When I raised my eyebrows at him, he just grinned unrepentantly and turned his attention back to her. I shook my head, then waved at Dean and Scott and their boys, Casey and Christian, before leading Kyle to the sofa next to Sammy.