Governor (Governor Trilogy 1)

by Lesli Richardson

  It worked, though. Even though the blast killed others, the three he covered survived.

  At a great personal cost to Carter, and one he says he’d pay again in a heartbeat, because they were men under his command.

  That’s the essence of Carter.

  My mother would bitch and feel resentful if she so much as got a hangnail while shopping for a present for me on Amazon. I’ve heard parents say they’d die for their kids. I honestly doubt my mother is one of them.

  But this man before me wears the proof of his selflessness in his flesh.

  This is one of the many reasons I know I can open myself to him and trust him, even though it might sound crazy to anyone who doesn’t know the man as well as I do.

  “Why this,” Carter says as he turns to take the washcloth from me before indicating for me to turn around so he can wash my back, “is because I suspect you have no clue how to process intimacy or be intimate with someone, not even with yourself.”

  My eyes close as he scrubs my back for me. It’s an indescribably good sensation.

  “And,” he continues, “if I manage to achieve nothing else with our time together besides instilling self-confidence in you and teaching you how to open yourself to someone in a healthy way at various levels of intimacy, then I’ll be happy and consider it a success.”

  He places a hand on my left shoulder, holding on as he leans over and scrubs me lower. “Because even if you were dating right now, you’d be miserable. It’s no coincidence you have a shitty relationship with your mom and you haven’t really ever had a girlfriend for any length of time.”

  Meanwhile, as he’s scrubbing my back, my cock…

  Yeah.

  I’m hard again.

  Before I can even process it, Carter spins me around, pins my back against the wall with his left forearm over my throat, and his right hand once again grips my cock. He’s not choking off my air, but from this position I know it’s because he’s choosing to let me breathe.

  The intensity in his expression as he strokes me terrifies and thrills me at the same time. “Hold on to my arm,” he orders, moving the left one a little and indicating he means that one.

  I reach up and wrap my fingers around the arm across my throat as his right hand strokes my cock again. I’m sensitive, but I’m also hornier than hell, and the slight edge to the pleasure only makes me that much harder.

  “You need to learn to ask for what you want from me, boy. You can’t deny yourself because you assume you can’t have it. Tell me what you want.”

  Twenty-four hours ago, had you told me I’d be begging my roommate to jerk me off in the shower, I’d have laughed at you.

  Now?

  “Please make me come, Sir. I want to come.”

  His triumphant smile makes me throb. “Hold it, boy. Do not come yet.”

  The command has exactly the opposite effect, and I’m afraid I’m going to disobey him. “I…I—”

  His hand slows, stills, leaving me whimpering and my hips rocking. “Good boys learn how to control themselves. There will be times I spend hours edging you and not letting you come, and if you come without permission, you’ll be punished. I’m not cruel enough or sadistic enough to do that to you today, though. I meant it when I said I won’t set you up to fail.” He smiles. “Not at first, and only when you realize it’s for fun.”

  He squeezes my cock, long, almost painfully but letting up just short of that. My breath raggedly saws in and out of my lungs as I stare into his eyes.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  And why the hell didn’t I figure this out about myself sooner?

  And please, please let this last. Everything he’s said so far strikes deep and true in my soul. If he’s playing me, fucking with me, it’s going to destroy me.

  Because I really, really want this.

  That’s why I struggle to comply. I chew on my lower lip and focus on him, on his brown gaze, and try to take my mind off the way his fingers circle the head of my cock and take slow strokes.

  There’s no noise other than the shower running and my own breath as I struggle not to tip over the edge despite how he’s working my cock.

  A few moments later, Carter’s gaze narrows even as a smile fills his face. “Good boy,” he whispers. “Come for me.” As he says this, his hand speeds up and my body complies.

  I force myself to keep my eyes open, focused on him and his, as the orgasm slams into me. It’s intense nearly to the point of pain. My balls throb as he strokes my cock, and he finally stills his hand only when I’m gasping and struggling to remain in place and not pull away from him.

  “Eyes on me, boy,” Carter says as he releases my cock. I don’t understand what he’s doing at first, until I realize he’s jerking off.

  In his left eye is a darker fleck of chocolate brown mixed in with the lighter hints of amber, gold, hazel. They’re mostly brown, and intense, expressive.

  His breathing grows loud, harsh, and I spot the moment he tips over the edge, even though I can’t see what he’s doing down there because I’m pinned in place. The lines around the outer edges of his eyes grow a little softer, the inner corners of his eyebrows lifting a tiny bit, and then he moans.

  Considering he’s just given me three, I don’t think I should begrudge him this one. Especially since he’s done all the damn work.

  Once he finishes, he needs a minute to regain his senses. He takes a deep breath before releasing me.

  It surprises me most of all when I realize I don’t want to let go of his arm, at first.

  I liked being pinned to the wall.

  “We need to go shopping,” he says as he steps back and rinses his hand in the spray. “When we finish our shower.”

  “Shopping, Sir?” That already feels natural, calling him that. I don’t know what kind of shopping, though, because Susa left us plenty to eat.

  He smiles. “Don’t worry, boy. This one’s all on me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When we finish our shower, Carter has me dry him off before myself, and orders me to get dressed and go commando under my shorts.

  Definitely not something I’m used to doing, but I suspect I’ll be getting used to it soon enough.

  He follows suit.

  Ten minutes later, we’re in the Snot Box with him driving. I’m a confusing mix of horrified and intrigued when our first stop is an adult toy “superstore” at the corner of Nebraska and Fletcher. I’ve driven past it a couple of times en route to other destinations, but I’ve never worked up the nerve to stop there. I’ve never been inside any “adult store” before.

  Guess Carter’s going to pop my cherry in this way, too.

  I’m too nervous to speak. Before I can open my door and get out, Carter stops me. “If I’m driving, I don’t expect you to get the car door for me, unless I specifically say so. I might change that at some future time. I expect you to open and hold other doors for me, though, including the passenger door of a car if I’m not driving. Then you walk with me, on my right side whenever possible, and a step behind. If I turn, I expect you to adjust accordingly. If I step on you, it’s your fault. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He grins. “Nervous?”

  “Very much, Sir.”

  “You do not speak unless I directly address you and ask you a question,” he says. “And you don’t worry about prices. If we’re going to do this the right way, I need some training aids.”

  He opens his door and I scramble to get out and follow him. I hold the store’s door open for him and in we go.

  My brain knew what to expect, but I find myself trying not to gawk. There’s a section of sexy clothes, a section of DVDs, another, smaller one of books. When the clerk behind the counter greets us, Carter responds and waves. I offer what I hope isn’t a sick-looking smile and continue after him.

  We seem to be the only customers right now. We pass through a bachelorette party and novelties section, finally reaching what is ap
parently our destination.

  Adult toys.

  He navigates us to a display of leashes and collars, quickly selects a heavy black leather collar with matching wrist and ankle cuffs, and hands them to me to hold as he moves on. Right next to that section is a selection of gags and blindfolds. He chooses a bit gag and a black leather blindfold.

  My cheeks are once again aflame, but I say nothing as he adds them.

  Next, we reach the butt plug section. He selects a couple, including a vibrating one with a remote control, drops them into my arms, and moves on. I swallow hard, trying not to stare at them and also struggling not to get hard, since I’m freeballing it right now.

  I guess there are cock rings in my future, too, because three different ones are added to the growing pile. Then he locates the implements section. It’s smaller than I imagined, and there isn’t a very large selection. Plus, many of them look relatively cheap.

  From Carter’s scowl, I can tell he’s not impressed either, but he still picks out three different paddles, and away we head to the check-out counter.

  On the way, he stops and picks up lube, condoms, and a couple of other items that he carries, so I don’t see what they are.

  Then we reach the counter.

  Without a word, I put everything on the counter and step back.

  “Did you find everything you need?” the clerk asks. She’s a cute and bubbly blonde, probably mid-twenties, maybe a little older than me. She wears a short-sleeved collared pullover shirt with the store’s logo on it and a pair of jeans, which is not what I’d expect, under the circumstances.

  “Sure did,” Carter says, as charming as ever. “My boy and I are going to have some fun.”

  I bite back the urge to amend that statement, because I can tell from the knowing smile she gives Carter that she now assumes we’re gay and I’m his boyfriend.

  I suppose if I’m not dating it doesn’t matter if people wrongly assume that about us. Especially a clerk I will hopefully never see again in my life.

  If I’m lucky.

  After he pays, he takes the bag and hands it to me to carry. We head out and I hold the door for him. When we reach the car, Carter actually opens my door for me, and he’s wearing a pleased smile.

  “You did great,” he says.

  Okay, as embarrassed as I felt being in there, I have to admit something about his praise helps offset it more than a little.

  Our next stop is a feed store a short distance away. I don’t even know why we’re here…until Carter winds his way through the store and we end up in the tack section.

  Carter’s eyes light up as he inspects their selection of riding crops, and he picks three different ones. He also grabs several double-ended snap clips, a couple of panic snaps, and off we go to pay.

  From there we drive to a large pet store. A six-foot-long leather leash, a long choke-chain collar for a dog, and a token for a pet tag add to the growing list of purchases. Then we stop by the engraving machine at the front of the store. Carter’s wearing an evil smile as he programs in what he wants the blue, dog bone-shaped tag to say, and we watch it engrave the words:

  boy

  Property of Sir

  Followed by his cell number.

  Our last stop is a home improvement store, where he buys a hundred feet of rope, among other things.

  Including a two-pack of the smallest padlocks they sell, real ones, not the stupid ones like for luggage, and a small pair of bolt cutters.

  I say nothing. I can tell some of the things he’s added to the cart, like wooden dowels about three feet long, will likely be used on me. Not sure about the two-foot length of plastic irrigation pipe, though.

  Not sure I want to know why he added kneepads, either, which he picked up in the tile flooring section.

  It’s a little past noon when we return to Susa’s.

  “Unload the car, please, boy,” Carter says before going inside. “Everything in the living room, for now.”

  I follow orders. After I have the car emptied he uses his key fob to lock it from the front door, then locks us in.

  “Strip,” he orders. “If we’re alone like this, here or at the dorm, you strip inside the front door.” He hesitates. “Obviously, at the dorm, I mean inside our room, not the quad pod.”

  Once again, I comply. I mean, it’s moot to argue about this.

  I return to the living room where he’s already getting things ready. He unpackages everything, combining all the wrappers and detritus into one of the bags, which he ties shut and hands to me.

  “Put that inside a plain garbage bag and put it out in the garage, in the trash bin. And you’re allowed to speak again.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I return to the living room after accomplishing that to find him using the bolt cutters to remove the rings from the chain collar. He crooks a finger at me to lean in, and I do.

  He drapes it around my neck and checks the length. Apparently happy with it as-is, he nods and threads the tag onto the split ring that came with it, adds it to the collar, and then uses one of the padlocks to lock it around my neck.

  I’m not sure what to think of this. It’ll hang under my shirt, so I’ll be able to hide it.

  I have a feeling I won’t have a say when I’m allowed to take it off.

  He hands me one of the padlock keys, but before he lets go of it, he looks me in the eyes. “This goes on your keyring, but you are not allowed to use it for yourself unless it’s an emergency, or I’ve given you permission to use it. Emergency means medical reasons, or airport security, or something like that. You will be punished for disobeying me about this. Understand?”

  “Y-yes, Sir.”

  He releases the key and I thread it onto my keyring, next to Susa’s house key.

  That seems like a fitting place to put it.

  He adds one to his keyring. There are two more keys, and three more locks, and they were all keyed alike. I don’t know what he’s going to do with them since he sets them aside, for now.

  “To answer your obvious question, no, you won’t normally be wearing the tag on that collar. I’ll have to order a more appropriate one. That tag will go on your play collar.”

  “Play collar, Sir?”

  “The leather one. But you will be wearing that collar normally. Mine.”

  My cock twitches at the possessive tone in his voice. I have a feeling if Mom showed up and tried to assert authority over me right this minute, Carter would stand and get in her face and say exactly that word in that way.

  Mine.

  He quickly buckles the leather collar on me, and the wrist and ankle cuffs. He checks the fit of the bit gag and the blindfold and has me kneel in front of him.

  “You can talk around the gag,” he assures me. “I’m well-versed in gagspeak.”

  I nod. I’m blind and mute. My ears listen for any sound I can make out.

  Startled at the feel of his hand coming to rest on the top of my head, I’m quickly soothed as he once again rubs my scalp as he did earlier. He also presses on the side of my head, making me lean so my head rests against his thigh.

  “Just sit there for a minute, boy,” he whispers. “This is all you have to do, is kneel, breathe, and wait on me to tell you what to do next.”

  Something about the way he’s rubbing my head, combined with being blindfolded, and I soon find myself slipping into that quiet mental space I occupied earlier.

  My mind completely empties as I focus on breathing, the warmth of his thigh against my face, the way his hand strokes my head.

  I feel like I’m the center of his universe right now.

  He feels like the center of mine.

  I’m starting to get it.

  Around us, the AC kicks on, I hear a neighbor somewhere behind Susa’s house crank a lawnmower, but these things can’t penetrate the rapidly expanding velvet bubble in my mind.

  I can see the two of us, alone, with no distractions.

  No one pulling his attention from me.

  His
hand stills but remains on my head. “How’s my boy?”

  I take a deep, satisfying breath. “Good, Sir,” I mumble around the gag.

  “Excellent. Another five minutes, then we’ll try something else.”

  I…strangely find I don’t want to move. “Only five?”

  He chuckles, his fingers moving against my scalp again. “How about ten?”

  I sigh, contented, wishing this sweet mental silence would never end. “Thank you, Sir.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Carter removes my blindfold so I can switch out the laundry, then has me return to the living room and kneel in front of where he’s sitting on the couch.

  He was right about one thing—I’m not thinking about being naked anymore.

  “The four main positions I will expect you to know for now are Primed, Loyalty, Devotion, and At Ease. At Ease is basically what you’re doing now, knees together, except with your palms down and flat on top of your thighs.” I move my hands into the correct position and am awarded with a smile. “Very good.”

  I feel a surge of pride roll through me.

  “Primed is sitting up, back straight, knees as wide apart as you can manage, with your hands behind your head, fingers laced together, elbows out to the sides.”

  I sit up and he makes a couple of minor tweaks to my position. I’m aware that this exposes me to him completely, but we’re beyond that point, I suppose.

  Well beyond it.

  Like, it’s twenty miles in the rearview mirror kind of beyond it.

  Carter sits back, smiling. “Excellent, boy. Stay like that. Remember, when I put you in a position, I expect you to maintain it.”

  It only takes a few minutes for me to realize this won’t be as easy as I first thought it would. At least, this particular position won’t.

  His smile widens. “Yeah, we’ll need to build your stamina. Not as easy as it looks, is it? You may speak.”