New Leather (10 page)

“Bring him.” She hung up.

He looked at the phone in his hand as if it was a snake. God!

James’ number was on his cell phone and he took it out of his pocket and hit the call button.

“Pauly.”

“James! I'm so sorry to interrupt your meeting, but disaster has struck.”

“Calm down, Carl, and tell me what happened.”

Carl closed his eyes and pictured his Dom's face. Nothing ruffled the man and the thought restored his composure. “My mother wants to meet you.”

“Shall I drop everything and go there now?”

Carl smiled for the first time that night at the dry retort. “No, she has a party planned for the Fourth. I tried to tell her I had a prior commitment and she said ‘bring him.'”

“These things are usually pot-luck, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I will dazzle her.” The line went dead. For the second time in ten minutes, Carl was left holding the phone and wondering what the hell just happened.

Carl's nerves were frazzled by Thursday night.

The day had been productive as far as the BDSM articles were concerned. He found a few interesting sites online that dealt with hitting instruments and sex toys. One site even had real testaments on the lifestyle written by Doms and subs alike.

His thoughts and feelings half filled his own journal and made no sense until he went back to last week's entries and discovered that it resembled the ones on the internet. He could see the changes in perspective already.

He couldn't wait for Friday to try the whip again. He was determined to withstand everything James gave him. The tantalizing hint of euphoria just before the pain became unbearable was like a drug. He needed more.

Of course, thoughts of Friday brought thoughts of Saturday and he had no expectations the day would end well. His Dom, his mother and Tony would be occupying the same space. Damn!

Everything was as ready as it could be for Saturday. The sauce was made, the ribs were covered in his special rub and the potatoes were washed and wrapped in foil.

Knowing it might not matter in three weeks. Knowing the poor woman would take a rolling pin to his head if she found out he liked to torture her son. Knowing he was placing too much importance on the invitation— James spent the last two days preparing food for the cookout.

He even dragged the massive grill to the Tacoma and wrestled it into the bed of the old truck.

It was silly, he realized, to be so excited about meeting a man's mother, but this was a first for him and he wanted to make a good impression. At nearly forty years old, it was pathetic that he worried about the opinion of his boyfriend's family. Things like this did not happen to him. He was a Dom for god's sake!

All the same, he hoped she liked the ribs.

The front door opened right on time and he heard Carl walk through the house to the spare room to clean up. Perfect timing. With the preparations done, James was deserving of a little fun. He wiped down the counters to give the boy time to strip and begin his shower before following.

The water started as James entered the bedroom. He shed his own clothing and left them next to Carl's on the bed. Anticipation filled his cock as he moved into the bathroom.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Not that he was asking, really.

“Uh, no sir.” Carl's gaze shifted from the showerhead, and the hose assembly, to James when he pulled the curtain back to watch.

“Do you mind if I help?”

Carl's warm smile said it all. “I would love your help.”

James stepped into the tub and took the soap from him. Lathering a facecloth, he washed Carl. Inch by inch, frothy suds trailed where the cloth cleaned. James discovered Carl was ticklish when it came to his armpits and the backs of his knees. Ironically, his feet were not, but he sighed in pure contentment when his arches felt thumbs press on them. James made note of all the sensitive areas, plans of tickle torture forming for future games.

Carl had not lied. The smile remained as James bathed him. He turned and lifted at each request— enjoying his Dom's care until all of him was clean and only one thing remained. Both he and James looked at the hose at the same time.

“Sir, please. I can't... do that... with you here.”

James savored the moment before answering his sub. “I am not leaving, Carl.”

“You said no scat. Don't break your word, please sir!”

James turned their bodies so that he could lean back against the farthest wall and Carl was directly under the spray. “I won't. I want to watch your face while you cleanse your passage for me.” He reached past a muscular shoulder to switch the water to the enema hose. “Only your face, Carl. I swear it.”

Carl closed his eyes briefly. “Why do you do this to me, James?”

“To establish my ownership.” He knew in that instant Carl was going to do it. He was going to allow James to witness the private act.

“How does shaming me do that?” Carl opened his eyes, but avoided looking at him while he attached the nozzle.

James took Carl's face in his hands and forced him to meet his look. “You have nothing to be ashamed of when you obey my will. That is the point of this exercise. Your discomfort gives the submission meaning.”

James moved his hands up to Carl's scalp and gathered fistfuls of the thick hair. Carl would not be able to hide from him. They held the stare for the few minutes it took to complete the chore.

His fretful lover provided James with beautiful obedience. The clenched jaw as he filled with the warm water, the fear in his eyes before the water's release and the distress when he emptied. All of it proved Carl's surrender and the power of the moment was heady.

James reached again to put the flow of water back into the showerhead to rinse away the waste. He washed the boy's legs and feet once more before they stepped out of the tub.

Carl waited quietly as James dried him off and then took the towel to return the favor. He folded it before throwing it down to the floor and kneeling on it. James was pleased to see him pause and look up as if unsure that his actions were welcome.

James put his hands on the back of the man's head and drew the open mouth to his cock.

Hot. Carl's mouth was a furnace. Heat spread along James’ skin, making the steamy bathroom feel like a sauna. He was burning up. Control of Carl's mouth was completely his as the kneeling man moved easily under the pressure of his hands.

James thought, perhaps, they turned a corner in their relationship today. Not that he believed this to be a declaration of love. James didn't know his own heart at this point and would not second-guess Carl's.

No, this was more like a choice to yield unconditionally. Carl's quest for the story and his natural curiosity had dictated his compliance to the things James demanded of him thus far, but there was no agenda now. Immersed in subspace, a mental state of true submission, Carl only wanted to please his Dom.

James was ruthless in his enjoyment of Carl's offering. He held the boy's head still and fucked his face as he would have fucked his ass, hard and deep.

Gurgles erupted now and then and saliva dribbled down Carl's chin, but he never pulled away. He kept his throat open and the seal around the fat prick in his mouth tight. Unconsciously, his hands clasped behind his back in the classic position of servitude.

God! He had nearly forgotten what this felt like! James cherished the connection he felt with Carl. Thrill seekers and paid subs did not begin to fulfill his basic need to dominate. At best, they scratched an itch. The sexy, virile man at his feet provided everything he thought he might never have again and it was spectacular. Carl was spectacular.

The climax built in spite of his wish to prolong the pleasure. His sac drew up and his cock filled to impossible proportions. He could not help himself and held Carl's face close as he shot thick come down the willing throat.

Carl whimpered as he tried to keep up and swallow the jets of fluid that threatened to strangle him. Through it all, he kept his hands behind him and his mouth fixed on James’ flesh.

Gently, in contrast to the near brutal treatment moments before, James withdrew from the luscious mouth and tilted the dark head to make eye contact. He looked down at the adoration visible in Carl's eyes and, beyond that, the seed still pulsing from his lover's untouched cock.

Carl had no words for what transpired in the bathroom. He understood the concept of subspace. James had explained it and he'd looked the word up on the BDSM sites, but the serenity of it caught him unawares. Hell, giving himself an enema in front of James should have sent him into a black hole of humiliation.

Instead, it unleashed a tempest of emotions that chased across his mind in succession; shame, fear, trust, and lastly, love. Carl was not sure if he really loved James, but regardless of his uncertainties, the impulse to show his devotion to his Dom took over. It became all he cared about and banished the noise inside his head.

Scary stuff. Scary because he vanished as an individual. Carl disappeared and a pawn to be used took his place, a pawn that required nothing and expected nothing.

He didn't know how to process that transformation. Did he savor the contentment it brought or fear the mind-control it represented? What did it say about him that he climaxed when James did?
Because
James did?

There were no easy answers and the scariest part was he wanted to feel that again.

“Carl? Are you done?”

James’ question brought him back to the present and the meal they shared. “Sorry. I was thinking.” He concentrated on finishing his dinner.

James smiled at him in sympathy. “Talk to me.”

“I feel as if I gave up something and I have no idea what or where it is.”

“That's the power-exchange I told you about. You gave me power over your person and I used it to give us both what we needed to be fulfilled.”

“You make it sound so reasonable, so simple.”

“It bothers you.”

“Yeah, it does.”

James put his fork down. “How many times have you given up what you want so someone else can have what they want? Think about it. Your mother, Tony, your boss, the shopper who wanted the same zucchini you did?”

“Zucchini?” Carl grinned. “Freud would have a field day with that one.”

“Focus, Carl.” James was not going to let him joke his way out of the conversation.

“I get the point; selfless acts. Not quite the same thing here, James. This was subjugation for sex.”

James’ voice became soft. “Sex is, by definition, selfish. We all reach for our own elusive orgasm. How beautiful then, that you wanted mine more.”

Carl decided James was romanticizing what happened and then it hit him— of course he was. James told him in that first interview he believed in romantic domination. He saw the Dom/sub relationship as a caring partnership of give and take.

Lost in thought again, he helped clean up the kitchen and followed James to the playroom.

“Tonight we will repeat last Friday, just the flogger.”

Wait a minute. “No whip?”

“Do you want to chance your mother seeing marks?” James raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah. No, she would kick both our butts.” Carl threw the hospital green scrubs over the chair and strode naked to stand under the chain. His skin tingled in anticipation of the flogger as James put the cuffs on his wrists.

“Your safeword?”

“Red, sir.” Carl watched James pull a thong up his legs before placing his ankles in the spreader bar. “The flogger didn't hurt me last time, sir.”

“No, but I have plans for this pretty cock.”

Too bad he didn't have plans for it now. By the time James had adjusted his dick into the cloth sack and the string into the crack of his ass, Carl was fully erect.

James snapped the flogger twice then hit Carl's buttocks on the third swing. Carl jumped.

Several hits later, his skin warmed and he was surprised how quickly pleasure replaced the pain. It had taken much longer last week. Carl let his head fall back and time became meaningless.

He did not lose his grip on reality the way he had earlier, but it felt amazing to absorb the shockwaves of dozens of little strips of leather slapping against his flesh. His heart, racing when they began, slowed to mimic the pace of the flogger. He loved it.

James was taking the spreader off when Carl came out of his fog to realize it was over. He did a better job of standing on his own while James lowered his arms and removed the cuffs. Together, they left the playroom and went to James’ bedroom.

“Good God!”

“Do you like the fur?”

He sat with James’ help and lay back on the softest thing he had ever felt. “Yes sir, I like the fur a lot.”

“I thought you might.” James pulled the thong off and maneuvered Carl to the center of the rabbit fur blanket covering the bed. “Do not move.”

“Yes sir.” He groaned when James swirled a feather duster over his body. The tickle and the urge to squirm drove him to madness. His armpits and groin received special attention, forcing him to clench his hands on the wrought iron headboard. Close to screaming, he endured James’ idea of fun until every inch of pink, abused skin twitched in protest.

He sighed heartily as the tickle torture ended and James traded the duster for a bottle of lube. At last! Carl raised his knees and yelped at the sharp slap that landed on his thigh.

“Do not move.” The Dom repeated.

Unbelieving, he watched as James poured the lube into his hand and wrapped it around Carl's dick. Oorah!

The torture truly reached critical mass as Carl tried valiantly to keep his hips still. James was also an expert on hand jobs and he proved that fact for many long minutes— apparently, he had been paying attention when Carl masturbated for him. He knew all of Carl's favorite moves and Carl was beyond insane when James let his cock go to straddle his legs.

“Please.” Carl wanted to feel James surround his cock and was not too proud to beg. “Please... ” He repeated.

“Yes.” James lowered himself onto Carl's shaft.

He could feel the tight opening refuse to give way. Only the fear of hurting James gave him the strength to hold still. Twin moans filled the air when the tiny hole opened and swallowed Carl's pole to the root. The snug fit told him what James must have felt when he had topped Carl for the first time. James did not bottom often, if at all.