Eric’s eyes swept down the boy’s body, following the line of his harness down to his treasure trail. His belly had the softest swell, and there was just a bit of extra fat on his hips and butt, giving him a juicy ass that Eric wanted to sink his teeth into.
But the sexy body was just icing on the cake. What really called to Eric was that irresistible combination of strength and fragility, determination and submission. His eyes, peeking out from that artfully messy hair, said everything.
The boy was clearly terrified, overwhelmed by the club and worried about being judged or rejected. But he walked to the bar with his head held high.
If anything, his uneven gait made him even sexier. This was a strong man, a man who fought and endured. A man who was just waiting to put all that strength in someone else’s hands so he could let go.
Eric knew that a lot of Doms got annoyed with new subs. They needed so much guidance, had so many little questions and insecurities. Some would try it once and never come back. Some would freak out. They usually didn’t know what they wanted, and if they did, they didn’t have the confidence to express it. Limits were a guessing game, because the subs often didn’t know themselves.
But there was something that Eric liked about the new ones. The glint of hope mixed with worry, anxiety blossoming into desire. That made it worth taking things a little slow. He liked talking things through and giving a sub a great first memory.
When they got a bit more confident, he’d sometimes introduce them to good Doms who matched their styles, if they hadn’t already found partners on their own. Over the past five or six years, he’d taken the credit for playing matchmaker for three collaring ceremonies.
He’d also had experienced subs send the new ones his way, maybe as a way of looking out for each other.
It wasn’t really a kink, since he certainly enjoyed playing with more experienced subs, too. He had no illusions that he was taking the new subs’ virginity. He’d never met someone at the club who was entirely new to sex, and they’d typically played around at the edges of submission with someone before stepping foot inside the door.
It was more that he felt a bit protective over them. He loved that look they gave him when they realized that he could give them exactly what they’d been looking for.
With this boy… Eric felt a tingling in his spine. He was going to be electric.
Eric watched him as he made his way across the room. He knew his eyes were feral and didn’t try to hide them.
He didn’t want to rush the boy before he’d even sat down and got his bearings. As long as no one else made a move, he could take his time to enjoy.
He watched the sub’s eyes dart to the side, in a move that would have been subtle if Eric hadn’t been watching so closely.
He followed the path of his gaze. Eric’s friend Thomas was getting a blow job from a new sub that he vaguely remembered him walking in with. Thomas was feeding him his cock while the boy cried and moaned.
Eric’s new toy seemed to get something out of his quick glance at the scene, if his sudden inhalation was anything to go by.
Eric wondered which part of it appealed. Giving head? Exhibitionism? A little pain? Or submission in general? It would be exciting to find out.
The boy finally made it to the bar. He first leaned the crutch against the counter, then used both arms to hitch himself onto the high stool.
He winced, then used his arms again to shift into a comfortable position. Then he shook out his shoulders, like they were sore, too.
Eric realized then that the uneven walk must be painful. The boy’s arms were probably sore too from supporting his body weight with the crutch.
His thoughts immediately filled with massage oils and glistening skin, muscles relaxing under his fingers.
He would work every knot and ache out of that gorgeous body, until the boy was a puddle of jelly. Then he would start kissing him gently, awakening every nerve until his body sang.
The image, so vivid and sensual, gave him pause. He was here for a fun time, a way to unwind. Sometimes a scene, sometimes a tumble in the group room.
While he liked shepherding the new subs into the scene, he wasn’t interested in getting attached and took pains to clarify that.
He also wasn’t usually a sensualist. If a sub wanted to be tied up and teased, he’d usually use something more interesting—and perhaps a bit less intimate—like a feather or an ice cube. Sure, he’d given some long massages, but that wasn’t usually his style. Especially at the club. Massages were more like boyfriend territory.
Well, that was interesting. Especially after his chat with Charlie today.
He kept watching the boy, who was now using the mirror to look around with interest.
He watched as fear turned into curiosity, perhaps even a bit of awe. He figured that it was one thing to hear about some place like this, or watch it in some clearly staged porn, but quite another thing to see it in person.
Then their eyes met in the mirror. A jolt ran through Eric’s body, stronger than anything he’d expected.
The boy quickly turned away, but that look had been enough. Courage and fear. Insecurity and desire. Strength and neediness. And of course, chemistry. God, what chemistry.
That was enough for Eric. He stood up and crossed the room in a few short strides.
He wanted to keep it casual, chat for a while. But once he was sitting there, with those electric brown eyes watching him in the mirror or hiding below those messy bangs that he wanted to tug, he had to lean in closer.
The boy’s cleanly washed skin was intoxicating. His neck was begging to be kissed. He found himself whispering in the boy’s ear, eager to see that shiver sneak down his body and the flush spread down his chest.
It was so clear the boy was expecting rejection, which only made Eric throw himself further into the role. He wanted the boy to know he was desired. Sexy. Just the way he was.
The boy’s delighted surprise when he’d taken the CP announcement in a stride was a reward in itself. He’d played with other subs with disabilities, and mostly what he’d learned was that they were better than most people at telling you exactly what their bodies’ limits were and exactly what they needed.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice things like this, because of course he did, but he could recognize it as an important part of someone’s identity without having it impact what they did together. What he was looking for was submission, and this boy seemed eager.
He was proud of the way the boy answered his questions, too—clearly and confidently despite his worries. He had a pure, melodic voice, too. Deeper than Eric had expected and a little breathy in his excitement.
Now that the boy was his—for the evening, he reminded himself—he wanted to get to know him somewhere a bit quieter.
Knowing it would take the boy a bit longer to cross the room, he told him to go back to the chair he’d claimed earlier. He wanted the boy to realize that he wasn’t going to coddle him because of his condition. And this way he’d get to watch his ass.
He’d just gotten their glasses when he saw the boy tense. Was he worried about people watching him? Afraid that Eric wasn’t following? Or had someone given him a malicious look while Eric was distracted?
Dammit. He should have made the boy wait with him for the drinks so they could walk over together.
The boy looked over his shoulder. Eric tried to put all his desire and command into the answering look, telling the boy with his body, I want you and I’m going to have you.
He saw the answering jolt of desire in the boy, followed quickly by fear.
He ate up the distance between them in quick strides, ignoring the splash of liquid that spilled over his fingers. Something wasn’t right.
He watched, as if in slow motion, as the boy’s stronger leg, the right one, spasmed and kicked against the nearby table. The boy jerked back from the pain, seemed to right himself, but then overbalanced on the crutch and went careening into a chair.
The boy’s heart fluttered like a rabbit’s, and he felt his own heart hammering in the same frantic rhythm. Fortunately, the boy didn’t pull away.
He liked the feel of him in his arms. The boy was just below Eric’s height, but slender. He could feel the tremor in his leg from the strain of walking, or perhaps in reaction to the stubbed toe. He tried subtly to take more of his weight.
He was immediately aware of his skin, warm and soft under his hands. He wanted to start caressing him right there, but first he had to know what was wrong. The last thing he wanted was to force himself on an unwilling partner.
Once the boy assured him that he wasn’t too hurt by the fall, just embarrassed, the conversation quickly turned.
Whatever the boy wanted to tell him, he seemed convinced that Eric would lose interest, and Eric was equally committed to erasing those hopeless feelings.
His mind flashed through a myriad of options. Was the boy HIV positive? Or did he have a different STI? Did the effects of the CP extend to his sexual organs, or maybe his nerves there? Did he have a boyfriend or girlfriend who didn’t know he was here? Or had something frightening from his past suddenly re-emerged?
Eric steeled himself for the answer, knowing that whatever he felt would be communicated to the boy through his body. Even if it was a deal breaker, he’d want to let the boy down easy instead of flipping out. He waited for the boy to answer.
“I’m trans.”
Oh. Oh! Ok. Um, trans. Not at all what he’d been expecting. “Trans meaning transgendered? FTM?”
He thought that he knew the answer, but he wanted to confirm and he needed a moment to get his head together. He’d met exactly five trans guys at the club, as far as he knew. One was a good friend, but they hadn’t talked much about his transition. Another he’d played with, but it was a long time ago and his memory on the details was a bit fuzzy. Mostly he knew enough to know that he needed to ask for more information.
“Yeah.”
That single syllable broke through his swimming thoughts. The boy gave him all his confidence and fear of rejection, mingled with that irresistible neediness and hope.
Which meant it was Eric’s job to get things back on track. “Yes, what?” he demanded, knowing how it would ground and comfort the boy.
“Yes, Sir!”
Oh, he was proud of this boy. So strong and courageous. Not that he would say that, and risk sounding demeaning.
The boy was positively melting into him now, and he enjoyed taking more of his weight. He ushered them to the nearest chair and then slung the boy into his lap, enjoying his desire to follow his lead.
The boy settled himself as commanded, squirming artlessly to arrange himself and driving Eric nearly out of his mind. Much more of that and he’d come before anything even happened.
He hoped that by folding the boy’s legs up on either side, they’d be contained enough to avoid the spasms that he was concerned about. It was a tight squeeze, but his bent knees just fit between Eric’s thighs and the stuffed leather arms of the chair.
If it got uncomfortable, he could change it. For now, he wanted all the sub’s attention on him.
The boy’s plump lips were close to his and begging to be kissed. Eric enjoyed the feel of the sub’s breath on his cheeks, knowing that the boy would be feeling his breath in return. He wanted to prolong that moment before their first kiss, build up to it. He had a feeling it would be explosive.
“Let’s talk,” he said. It was more to remind himself than the boy. He needed to go over limits and safe words, maybe even get some insight into the boy’s secret fantasies. Right. They’d talk.
He ran his palms over the boy’s flat chest. Touch would calm the boy, while leaving no doubt that Eric desired him. He loved the look of the leather straps wrapped around those ribs, just inviting someone to tie him down.
There must be surgical scars under those sexy leather straps, Eric realized. Now that he was looking, he could just see the outlines where the nipples had been grafted back onto skin.
He wondered if the boy had full sensation there and pinched one before he even thought it through. The sub arched back delightfully, his eyes rolling upward and his shoulders shaking.
Eric wanted to keep pinching the dusky nubs, but he forced himself to still his hands at the sub’s waist.
Being so greedy and grabby wasn’t like him at all. Something in the boy just brought it out in him. That was exactly why he needed to slow things down. He wanted to get this right. They really, really needed to talk.
He rested his hands on the boy’s thighs. The outside of his thighs.
“What’s your name, boy?” A question he should have asked a while ago.
“Micah, Sir.”
“I like it. It suits you.” It was perfect for him. He wondered if it was the boy’s given name or if he chose it. Probably the latter. But he was pretty sure it would be rude to ask.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Now before we do anything else, we need to talk about what you’re interested in and what your limits are. It’s OK if you don’t know yet, but if you do you should speak up.”
“I, um… I…Aren’t you supposed to decide?”
Eric had seen that with subs before. Society dictated that talking about kinks was embarrassing.
They often had this idea that submission meant accepting whatever a Dom wanted and weren’t prepared to be asked about their own interests. The more experienced subs could rattle off a list like they were ordering a fancy coffee.
“No, Micah, it’s a conversation. You’re doing just fine. It’s alright to feel a little overwhelmed. And I promise you that nothing you say will shock me. At the worst, we might not be interested in too many of the same things. I know a guy who gets off on vomit. Not my jam, but I don’t judge.”
It was his favorite kink to relay to new subs. It was pretty much guaranteed that whatever they wanted wasn’t that extreme. If their eyes ever lit up with desire at the thought, he’d know exactly where to direct them.
Micah responded just as he’d expected, though. A moment of shock, a flicker of disgust, and then laughter.
“Really? I mean, really, Sir?”
“Oh, I’m perfectly serious. It’s called emetophilia. In other words, it’s common enough that is has a name, which pretty much means it’s healthy and normal as long as the other person’s into it, too.”
He rubbed his hands soothingly along Micah’s thighs. “Now, what I’d really like to hear is what you’re into.”
Micah looked down. “Um…”
“Look at me when you talk.” He said it kindly, but it was a command nonetheless.
Micah jerked his head up, exactly as he’d hoped. He was eager to follow instructions and please his Dom.
Eric would be able to see every thought and reaction as they talked. Their lips were still so close that he could feel the sweet breath of every word as the boy spoke.
“Yes, Sir. I, um, well, I like it when you tell me what to do.”
Eric nodded encouragingly.
“And I think I’d like to be tied up. Like you said earlier.” The last part was almost a whisper, as though he didn’t quite dare to say it.
“Boy, I will definitely be tying you up.”
A shiver passed through Micah’s body, and his eyes blinked closed. He wasn’t trying to hide though. Eric couldn’t wait to learn about what he was envisioning.
He seemed to remember himself and opened his eyes. “I, um, I’m not sure about pain. I had someone spank me once and it was, like, really good.” He shuddered, remembering. “For anything more than that... I like the idea of it, but I’m not sure if it would be the same in reality.”
“I’m proud of you for telling me what you’re thinking. We’ll start slowly, and you can see what you think. I’d love
to take a switch to that sexy ass of yours, but we’d work up to it, and stop if you didn’t like it. If it’s not for you, you won’t disappoint me.”
There he was again, talking about the future like they’d be planning more scenes together. For first-time subs, he usually stuck to spankings unless they already knew what they were looking for.
“I, um, guess that’s everything I can think of. I just like the idea of, you know, giving up control.”
Something else flashed in Micah’s eyes. With another sub, he might have let it go. There was plenty to work with here. But for some reason, with Micah he wanted to know.
“Any fantasies?”
Micah shrugged, but he was still holding back. “I don’t know. Just, regular submission stuff, I guess… Sir.”
“Submission is a huge category.” Apparently, this would take a guessing game. “When you think of giving up control, is it to someone in specific? Like an authority figure?”
“Like, role playing? Not really.”
“It could also be a situation. Being embarrassed or demeaned.”
“No. That sounds awful.”
“How about sex in public? Everybody watching you and wanting you?”
Micah’s eyes widened. “I didn’t really think about it that way. I guess so?”
Oh, this was getting very interesting. But it wasn’t what he had been thinking about before. “You’re doing such a good job, Micah. Let me give you a few more ideas to consider. Some people fantasize about being forced or raped.”
Micah shook his head more slowly. “Raped? Uh, no, Sir.” So that wasn’t quite it, or at least when it was framed that way.
“Multiple partners? Maybe being with two guys at once?”
Micah sucked in a little breath. Now they were getting somewhere.
Eric pushed on. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, boy? Tied down and taken by a group of men? One of them using your ass while you take another cock in your mouth?”
Micah’s eyes were huge, startled and needy. “Yeh...yes, Sir.” He swayed, pressing up against Eric’s chest.
Oh, that look did it for him. Until this moment Eric had been thinking of nothing but keeping Micah for himself. Now he had other plans. Oh, he would enjoy giving this boy exactly what he wanted.
Whirlwind Page 10
