Room at the Edge

by Jane Davitt

  “I want a bottle of wine,” Jay said. He got up, moving awkwardly, every shift in position tugging at the drum-tight skin of his ass, and followed Austin into the kitchen. “The question is, do I call Liam and tell him now? Or do I wait until after dinner?”

  “It’s up to you,” Austin said.

  Jay groaned. “I don’t want it to be up to me! I’m a freaking sub. I like being given orders.”

  Austin snorted. “Liam wouldn’t agree with you. You fight him all the time.” He took a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and unscrewed the top. “Do you think when we move in, he’ll want us to always call him Sir?”

  “I don’t know. It’d take some getting used to.” Jay tried to picture it, being in sub mode all the time. Exhausting or arousing? He couldn’t decide. He was certain he knew which Austin would choose.

  “Kneeling whenever he comes into a room,” Austin said dreamily. “Only speaking when we’re spoken to… Hours naked or in bondage…”

  “Oh God.” Jay took out two glasses from the cupboard, overwhelmed by the way his body was responding to that with a shiver of desire and fear. “I can’t imagine going that deep and then facing Monday morning and someone who’s returning a DVD with the disc missing and trying to say it was like that when he checked it out.”

  “It’s going to take some adjusting to; you’re right,” Austin agreed, pouring them both big glasses of wine. “For Liam—for Sir too.”

  The first cool, fresh gulp of wine tasted wonderful. “If it doesn’t work out and one of us decides it’s too much, will you mind?”

  “It might be me deciding that,” Austin pointed out. “Fantasies aren’t always as much fun when they’re real.”

  Jay drank more wine, feeling a buzz already because he was drinking it quickly. “Yeah. And I’ve decided. I’m eating first, then talking to Liam.”

  Austin took the wineglass from his hand before he could reduce its contents still further. “Then you can save this. If he thinks you’re even halfway drunk, he won’t like it.”

  “He’s not going to like it no matter what,” Jay said, but he didn’t argue when Austin put his wineglass in the fridge.

  Forty minutes later, the pasta dish he’d eaten lying heavy in his stomach, he sat on the couch and called Liam, going to speakerphone as soon as Liam answered. Austin’s hand was warm in his, Austin’s expression both sympathetic and anxious.

  If he was honest with himself, the part of Jay that loved to be subdued and disciplined was eagerly anticipating Liam’s reaction and the inevitable punishment coming his way. He got off on being punished, after all. But like an oil slick on water, polluting it, the sense that he’d failed Liam made him feel too ashamed to enjoy that anticipation. He’d agreed to Liam’s no-coming rule willingly, knowing Liam relished the idea of them being under his control even when he wasn’t with them. Needing permission to come made every climax more intense and meaningful. Being perpetually aroused and frustrated was a delicious torment he craved no matter how much he complained.

  Mostly.

  Bottom line, he’d spoiled the trust between himself and his Dom, and that was what was making his gut ache.

  “Sir? It’s Jay. Can I talk to you?”

  “I’m on the other line. Hold on a minute, and I’ll finish up that call.” Liam clicked back before Jay could agree to wait, leaving him hanging.

  “Other line,” he whispered exaggeratedly to Austin, then remembered it was on speakerphone anyway. They both waited silently for much longer than the requested minute. Jay was starting to get irritated when the line clicked again.

  “All right, I’m back,” Liam said. “I apologize—business thing, and I wanted to be able to give you my full attention, so I had to finish the call properly.”

  “It’s okay.” Jay bit his lip, and as he opened his mouth again to confess, Liam broke in.

  “Is this about earlier today?”

  “Yes,” Jay said. “Um, no. Wait. What are you talking about?” He wasn’t unused to feeling thrown off balance, but he hadn’t expected it in this conversation.

  “Austin and I. After you left. I’d assumed that was why you were calling.”

  The whole sidestepped discussion slid back into place. “Oh. No. Well, a little bit, but only tangentially. I was actually calling to confess.”

  “I’m not a priest, Jay,” Liam said. Now his voice was harder to read, like he was himself again instead of someone worrying about being in trouble. Which was interesting and an idea Jay would have to explore further. “What have you done?”

  It was harder to tell Liam than he’d expected. Not being in the same room didn’t help; in fact, it made it worse. Jay liked being able to read Liam’s body language and tailor his responses to it, intuitively knowing when he was close to stepping over a firmly drawn line. Now he was flying blind, and it made his nervousness rise to the point where he seriously thought he was having one of Austin’s panic attacks.

  “I jerked off.”

  He’d planned to say more—explain, justify, apologize—but the three words slipped out before he could censor them.

  “I see. I’m assuming you’re not going to offer a ‘dog ate my homework’ excuse like telling me you forgot you aren’t permitted to do that?”

  Liam’s voice was measured, even calm, but Jay still winced. Austin’s grip on his fingers tightened to the point of pain. “No, Sir.”

  “Talk me through it.” Implacable now. “Every thought leading up to disobeying me.”

  “I was doing the lines at work,” Jay began. “It made me… I was hard. I didn’t plan on doing anything about it, I swear. I mean, God, I was at work.”

  “You already said that.”

  Liam’s terse reminder rasped Jay’s nerves raw. “Yeah, well, Austin texted me about what you’d done.”

  “And that upset you?”

  “No.” Jay huffed out a breath of sheer exasperation. How many times did he have to say it? “Why would it? Jesus. No.”

  “If you swear at me again, Jay, you’ll discover what soap tastes like.”

  There was one benefit to being across town from Liam; he could roll his eyes.

  “Austin, did Jay just react to that in a way I’d find disrespectful?” Liam inquired, his tone mild enough to be a warning, because no one sounded that chilled when they were pissed.

  Austin gave Jay an agonized look. “Uh, Sir—”

  “Don’t put him in the middle,” Jay said sharply. “It’s not fair. I rolled my eyes, okay?” There was a long silence, expectant, patient, and he grudgingly added, “Sir.”

  “Setting your attitude aside for now, go back to what happened.”

  “It turned me on more thinking about the two of you,” Jay admitted after an inward struggle. “But mostly it made me think I was, uh, owed an orgasm? Austin got to come, so I figured I should too?”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  “I’m—” Jay bit his lip, savaging it with his teeth until Austin laid his fingers across Jay’s mouth to stop him. “I screwed up, Sir. I’m sorry. I’m really fuck— No, I didn’t mean that—” Tears, rare when he wasn’t in a scene, welled up, shocking him by their suddenness. He pushed the phone at Austin and turned his face into the cushions piled at the end of the couch, muffling the audible sounds of his distress before Liam heard him.

  “Jay.” Austin’s hand settled on his back, more comforting than a simple touch should have been. “Liam, I think we’re going to need a minute here. No, Jay, come on.”

  Jay found himself turned around and pulled into Austin’s embrace. He didn’t resist even though he was embarrassed. Instead he clung to Austin, hiding his face against Austin’s stomach. Stupid. Not like Liam could see him.

  “Jay, can you hear me? Austin, can he?” Liam asked.

  “I think so,” Austin said.

  “Jay, I want you to take ten deep breaths. In and out, slowly.”

  “Good,” Austin murmured, petting his hair as Jay tried to obey
. “He’s doing it, Liam.”

  “Good boy.” Liam’s approval made Jay try even harder despite the shudders that were running through him as he attempted to stop crying. “Everything’s all right. Listen to me. I know you’re upset, but this isn’t the end of the world, not even close. Do you need me to come over?”

  “No,” Jay said forcefully. “I don’t—”

  “Shh, it’s okay.” Austin hugged him more tightly. “You really did have a bad day.”

  “I’m coming over,” Liam said decisively. “And I’m not angry, Jay. I mean it. If I get there and find you’ve worked yourself up even more, I’ll put you over my knee as a way of saying hello. You know I wouldn’t do that if I were angry.”

  As threats went, it felt more like a security blanket. “That’s… I wish you would, Sir.”

  “You wouldn’t like it.” Liam sounded very sure about it. “I’d make sure you didn’t. Calm down. Austin, make him a cup of tea.”

  The call ended there without the usual courtesy of a good-bye, and Jay exchanged a startled glance with Austin. “He’s coming here?”

  “Well, it’s not like he’s not allowed to.” Austin glanced around and moaned, releasing his hold on Jay. “Shit, the place is a mess.”

  On the apprehensive side, no matter what Liam said, Jay sat up straight. “No, it’s not.”

  Austin was already on his feet, darting around the room and making what was already tidy even tidier. Abandoned on the couch, Jay wiped at his wet face irritably. There didn’t seem to be much point in continuing to cry, but he wasn’t close to the calm Liam had demanded, and no amount of slow breathing would get him there. “You’re supposed to be making me tea!”

  “I will, I promise. I just need to sort through these magazines.” Austin cast a harried look over his shoulder. “Put the kettle on? That PG Tips stuff Liam likes is in the cupboard with the cereal, I think, right at the back.”

  Jay got to his feet and deliberately knocked a cushion Austin had plumped onto the floor, stomping on it heavily as he stalked into the kitchen.

  Tea. He hated tea.

  He dumped out the few inches of water that had been sitting in the kettle for who knew how long and refilled it, then put it on the stove. The box of tea bags Liam liked was exactly where Austin had said it would be—Austin always knew where stuff was. Hell, maybe he had a labeled diagram in his head. Jay was probably lucky there wasn’t a written one to go along with it and a rule that he had to follow it exactly.

  Jay found a mug, put a tea bag in it, and went in search of a box of tissues for his dripping nose.

  “Tea?” Austin reminded him as he went past, and Jay didn’t even try to keep from rolling his eyes again.

  “I know. I’m on it.” The tissue box in the bedroom was empty, and he had no one to blame for it but himself, since he remembered taking the last one a few days ago. There weren’t any new boxes in the hall cupboard, but he finally found one under the bathroom sink. He blew his nose loudly a few times, then took the opened box of tissues into the bedroom where Austin was pulling the blankets up and straightening them. “You know Liam won’t care how the place looks.”

  “I care,” Austin said.

  “Yeah, but you have OCD.” Jay sighed, listened for the whistle of the kettle and didn’t hear it, and swapped the new box of tissues for the empty one. “Can I help?”

  “No, I’ve got it. Just deal with the tea?”

  Watching the kettle boil felt like the times Liam put him in a corner, staring at the wall, a punishment he reserved for when Jay was at his most fidgety or petulant. Jay had never worked out if Liam did it to calm him down or as a more efficient way to drive him to the point where he needed a good, hard spanking to quiet the chatter in his head. Sometimes it was effective, and he could find clarity in the blankness filling his eyes and the awareness that he was submitting. More often, he fought the command to stay still, because not moving was intolerable. Kicking and squirming over Liam’s knees as the stiff bristles of a hairbrush were rubbed ruthlessly over freshly spanked scarlet skin was easier.

  He made the tea and, on an impulse since he’d overfilled the kettle, made some for Austin and Liam too. If it felt like a social occasion, maybe Liam would feel restrained by good manners and go easy on him.

  He took one look at Liam’s face five minutes later and changed his mind. Liam swept into their small apartment as chilly and brisk as the north wind, his searching gaze boring through Jay, who put his mug down on the coffee table before he spilled its contents.

  “Sir, I—”

  Liam dropped his coat over a chair and held up his hand. “You told me quite enough on the phone, thank you, Jay. I’m not here to listen to excuses or apologies, just to deal with the situation before it gets out of control.”

  He sounded so fucking competent, the perfect executive, his blue shirt open at the neck, the sleeves rolled up neatly to expose muscular forearms dusted with dark hair.

  Jay remembered Liam had mentioned the possibility of fisting him. Those strong, capable hands, the power in those arms harnessed to perform an act that required complete trust to change it from brutally invasive to an encompassing possession… God, he wanted it as much as he wanted the lick of flames against his skin, but he’d fucking blown it now. Destroyed Liam’s trust for the sake of a quick gasp and shudder a foot away from a toilet, the stink of pine cleaner making him gag.

  Austin stood, going over to Liam with a confidence Jay guessed came of a clear conscience and dropping to his knees. Austin always looked so happy to be doing that, so relieved when Liam rested his hand on Austin’s head briefly in acknowledgment.

  “Sir, it was my fault for texting him,” Austin began, his head ducked. “I should’ve waited.”

  Okay, so maybe Austin wasn’t feeling guilt-free, not that there was any need at all for him to blame himself for Jay fucking up.

  “Austin, if there’s any flagellating to do around here, you can leave it to me,” Liam said, clearly agreeing with Jay. “This is Jay’s fault, and he knows it. Go and sit by him, please.”

  It was amazing how Liam took over no matter where they were, Jay reflected. Some people would think being in someone else’s house meant they had to defer to them, but not Liam. They were his subs, so wherever they were, they were his to command.

  Jay found that oddly comforting.

  The couch sank under Austin’s weight as he sat and reached for Jay’s hand. Whether it was supposed to be a request for support or an offer of it, Jay didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he cared, either. The feel of Austin’s hand against his was familiar and reassuring.

  “We can’t have a repeat of what happened today,” Liam said. “I’m sure you both realize that. Jay, it’s clear that you aren’t at a place where I can trust you to follow the rules based on my words alone. You require assistance, so I’m here to provide it.”

  He went over to the chair where he’d draped his coat and rummaged in the inside pocket, coming out with something Jay didn’t recognize at first.

  Liam made an impatient gesture. “Stand up. No, Austin, not you. Jay, take down your pants.”

  Puzzled, Jay did, pushing them down to his knees as Liam stepped closer, allowing Jay to identify what he held. It was a chastity device, a combination of shiny chrome and what looked like black plastic.

  “Don’t get hard,” Liam told him, but unfortunately that wasn’t something Jay could control right then. Which he supposed was the bigger problem, and getting bigger by the minute. Quickly, as if he’d done this before, Liam fastened the device around Jay’s swelling prick and slipped a tiny padlock into place.

  “Rubbing you anywhere?”

  It had all happened too fast. Jay had expected a spanking, but if he’d guessed in time what Liam was going to do, he wasn’t sure he would’ve dropped his pants.

  Then he got a look at the serene confidence in Liam’s eyes and knew he would have.

  “I… No, it feels…” He paused, searching for the
right word. Not fine. Not okay. Not good. His dick was encased in plastic, enclosed, caged away. He couldn’t touch it.

  When Liam’s hands closed over his, Jay realized he’d been scrabbling at the plastic frantically, trying to get to warm, familiar flesh and failing.

  “No,” Liam said quietly. “That’s off-limits now. You can wash and urinate without difficulty, and it won’t show under clothes if you’re sensible about what you wear, but you don’t get to touch yourself. I hold the key.”

  Austin was silent beside him, through shock or envy of the totality of Jay’s enforced obedience, Jay wasn’t sure which. This went beyond anything Liam had done to them. He was humiliated beyond words, still struggling with the reality of his situation.

  “You can’t do this.” He was horrified, aroused, furious in equal measure, and the storm of emotions ripping through him was dizzying. He loved a dash of humiliation in a scene, but this was breathtakingly beyond that. His pants were around his ankles, hobbling him, air cool on his bare legs and ass. He couldn’t take his eyes off what lay between his legs, the curved plastic shell so out of place and alien looking. His dick, responding to his arousal as if it’d decided that emotion was strongest, tried to harden and couldn’t, compressed by the unforgiving shell of the device.

  “I have done it,” Liam pointed out reasonably. “I’m your Dom, Jay. I’m owed your obedience. If you try to withhold that from me, I won’t permit it. I can’t be with you twenty-four/seven, even after you move in, so this is my way of ensuring I have that obedience.” There wasn’t a hint of gloating or triumph in his voice, just a matter-of-fact assertion of his rights.

  “How long does he have to wear it?” Austin’s voice was stifled, subdued. Jay spared him a glance and saw Austin was twisting his hands restlessly in his lap, a sure sign he was agitated.

  “Until I’m satisfied he’s learned his lesson.” Every word was crisp, Liam’s English accent very much to the fore. Liam tilted Jay’s chin up, forcing Jay to stare into his eyes. “I’m not angry,” Liam told him. “I expected this to happen at some point. The fact that I already had this device to hand should tell you that.”