Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  As we waited for the host, I leaned in. “Are you wearing the ribbon, boy?”

  “Yes, Master. And no underwear.”

  “And how many edges today?”

  He whimpered. “Eight, Master.”

  I grinned and let it turn just a little evil, knowing it was what Kyle wanted to see. “I might just have you edge a bit tonight too.”

  He whimpered again, but nodded. “I can’t wait, Master.”

  The host returned then and led us to our seats at a small table in the corner. Once we were settled with drinks ordered and menus in hand, I considered him over the top of mine. He seemed… nervous. “Are you okay?”

  He frowned. “Yes. I… Mike said something earlier today that’s been bothering me. I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I don’t know how to answer him.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Oh?”

  “Well—”

  We were interrupted when the waiter came back for our order. We decided to order a few different types of sushi to share and finally, we were left alone again. “So….”

  He sighed. “It’s nothing, I don’t—”

  “Boy,” I growled.

  He swallowed. “Sorry, Master. Mike doesn’t understand our relationship.”

  Well, that wasn’t what I expected. “How so? I thought you said he was in the lifestyle?”

  Kyle nodded and frowned. “That’s what surprised me about it. But they’re not 24/7, not even close to it, like Cam and Mistress Sammy. And, I mean, I know we aren’t exactly…”

  “But we’re close, yeah.”

  “Right. But he asked me why we don’t, like, go on a date without doing anything sexual or—” He shrugged a shoulder and glanced around. “—well, without the… dynamic involved.”

  I thought that through. “It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it. Maybe explain you work best with that kind of structure? That the rules and discipline help you?”

  He looked thoughtful. “That might help. I think he doesn’t realize that part of it. He sees what you get out of it, but not so much what I do.” He nodded. “He’s a little stuck, too, on our pain play, but that I don’t think I can help him with. He’s not a masochist and Jenn isn’t a sadist. It’s really just the D/s and kept strictly in the bedroom for them.”

  I pursed my lips. “Yeah, that would make it tough for him to get that aspect of it. I think if you tell him that, it’ll at least give him a better understanding. I could talk to him.”

  He smiled at me. “Let me try first, but if not, maybe I’ll get him to talk to you.” He paused and licked his lips. I buried the urge to grin at him trying so hard to keep from biting. “As long as he remembers you belong to me.”

  I did grin then. “Even if he wasn’t straight, he’d have no chance baby. He’s not you.”

  Kyle blushed a beautiful deep red. “So, uh… how ’bout them Mets….”

  SUSHI CONSUMED and check paid, we went out into the main part of the mall. Kyle seemed to think I was nuts when I suggested we have ice cream for dessert—since it was December—but eventually, I convinced him to get a scoop. We wandered along the shops, peering in windows and dodging Christmas shoppers rushing from store to store.

  I loved seeing the things he looked at, making note of what he lingered over. We passed up a number of the jewelry stores, but he paused outside Tiffany & Co. “Do you know they have a male same-sex couple in their engagement ad?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “No. I didn’t see that.”

  He nodded. “I’ll e-mail a link to the YouTube video. It was really cool.”

  “I’d like that.” We turned back and were heading toward the restaurant and the car when we passed a small stand in the middle between an earring place and a photo kiosk. Hand-painted glass balls hung next to delicately carved wooden figures. Blown-glass faeries and tiny elves filled the shelves next to snowmen, Santa Clauses, hearts, stars, and bells in all sizes and colors.

  One ornament in particular caught my eye. A glass ball, hand-painted with stain in a rainbow of colors, looked to almost glow with the light behind it. Across the front, “Our First Christmas” was written in gold with plenty of space above and below. I tugged Kyle closer. “What do you think?” I asked, pointing.

  Kyle stared at it, then up at me. “Really, Mas—Mal?”

  I smiled, glad he chose my name for this. “Yeah, really. I think it’s perfect, don’t you?”

  He nodded, turning back to it. He reached out, but stopped just short of touching it. He swallowed a few times, and I wished I could help him not struggle with something so simple. Buying a Christmas ornament shouldn’t need to be quite this huge, and I fought the want to track down his parents and kill them. Again.

  “Yeah, it is,” Kyle finally said.

  “Good evening, gentlemen!” The lady stepped around from the other side of her cart. “How can I help you?”

  I smiled at Kyle and kissed him lightly on the temple. “We’d like to have this one customized.”

  KYLE HAD stayed with me Tuesday after dinner and gone on to work Wednesday morning. I didn’t want him to go back to his loft after work. I recognized how crazy I was being, but I hadn’t wanted him to.

  My mother would tell me not to worry. I’d heard her tell their story more times than I could possibly count. She’d tell me sometimes it just works and not to overthink it.

  She did say that when I called her Wednesday afternoon between meetings.

  But I couldn’t help but worry. Kyle had a lot working against him, with the history from his family, the men who hadn’t wanted him, the guys who’d never called back. I had to tread carefully because I was afraid one wrong move and he’d bolt like the scared rabbit he appeared at times.

  So, even though I’d wanted him to come back Wednesday night, I’d kissed him thoroughly, frustrated him as much as possible in a short time, and let him go.

  With this worry in mind, I also hadn’t let him come Tuesday night, after all. I was a sadist and his Dominant, so part of it was for that reason. But more than that, I couldn’t help the thought that, if nothing else, he’d come back to keep playing with me.

  I’d never had worries like this over a relationship before. Of course, I’d never had a relationship before, not even a long-term D/s one. So I could only hope I was doing it right.

  When I’d asked him Wednesday morning if he’d go to my firm’s Christmas party on Thursday as my boyfriend, he’d lit up like our Christmas tree.

  “Really? You want me there as your boyfriend?”

  I tilted my head. “Well, I’m not exactly going to introduce you as my submissive, am I?”

  He’d actually glared at me, making me laugh. “Ha. Ha.”

  I chuckled. “Yes, I want you there as my boyfriend.” I wanted to call him my “partner,” but we didn’t live together and I wasn’t about to push something like that, that fast. I didn’t care how well it worked for my parents.

  But he’d gone, which made me happy. I got a lot of congratulations and more than a little ribbing from my senior techs, who’d started the firm with me. Sara had gushed over him, embarrassing him, but I could tell he was pleased to hear I’d talked to her about him.

  I also got to see a side of him I hadn’t yet. The first glimpse of his wealthy background came through. He’d greeted everyone warmly, maintained small talk that I’d never have managed on my best days, and held his own on just about every technology discussion that came up. To top it off, he hadn’t hesitated to ask if there was something he hadn’t understood. He’d obviously been taught how to work a party, and it showed. I was impressed and, I was man enough to admit, a bit intimidated.

  But I also recognized an asset when I saw one. And this side of Kyle most definitely was an asset. I wasn’t about to keep him around just for that—I wasn’t mercenary. But he’d certainly come in handy on a lot of those tedious and annoying business dinners and parties I had to attend. I hoped he’d be willing to go with me.

  I’d dro
pped him off at his loft after the party, making sure to frustrate him thoroughly while getting myself off before leaving him. I’d wanted to take him home, but again I reminded myself there was plenty of time and too many opportunities to scare him away. I could be patient, use that business acumen there too.

  Besides, though I was off the next day—I’d closed the office—he had work. I certainly did my best to distract him through the day, sending him pictures of my hard cock or his wrapped gifts.

  His responses ran the gamut from obvious frustration to outrage over the gifts to pictures of his own neglected, hard dick. It and his balls were wrapped up in red ribbon today. He’d told me a couple of the guys had noticed he didn’t use the urinal anymore, and they’d ribbed him about it, asking if his dick had fallen off from too much masturbating or something.

  His reaction to that had been surprising. He’d joked back with them, then texted me that he’d actually liked having that little secret. They’d noticed, and that tiny bit of humiliation had actually turned him on. It certainly gave me food for thought.

  Despite how fun the light play was, though, I was anxious to have him with me. We had a big weekend planned, and I wanted to get it started. He was staying the weekend again, all the way into Monday—Christmas Day—and I was beyond looking forward to it. As Christmas approached, I acted like I hadn’t in years about the preparations for it.

  It made me stop and think for a few moments, staring unseeingly at the tree. I hadn’t felt like this about Christmas—anything close to this—since Blake died. It was something I’d need to tell Kyle. He should know how much he’d done for me already.

  If I hadn’t had things to get done before he got to the house, I’d have gone completely batshit crazy. As it was, I was putting the finishing touches on the setup for our first full scene in my playroom, planning dinner, and doing a last-minute bit of food shopping. I’d just managed to put the last of the food away when he knocked.

  “You didn’t have to knock, baby,” I said by way of greeting.

  He blushed and looked down. “I… I wasn’t sure.”

  I pulled him in and kissed him firmly. “Well, now you know.”

  He smiled. “Okay. Uh, I have more stuff in the car.” He pointed out the door with his free hand, the other full of his overnight bag and hanging bag.

  “I’ll get it. Strip,” I said, wanting our weekend started ten minutes ago.

  “Yes, Master,” he said, and I couldn’t miss the relief in his voice.

  I grabbed two bags of groceries, a third bag with a couple of small wrapped gifts, and a separate, fairly heavy wrapped gift. I had no idea what that could be. He hadn’t asked me about a gift, so I’d—stupidly, now that I thought about it—assumed he wouldn’t get me one.

  I put the gifts under the tree next to his three, the overnight and hanging bags in our bedroom for him to take care of later, and the grocery bags in the kitchen. When I turned back around, I saw him kneeling on the cushion in front of the fireplace. My dick hardened almost immediately.

  I stopped to admire him, buying myself a moment to get composed. Around all this time with me, he’d apparently still found time to go down to the gym. There was no doubt he was still working out, from the look of his toned muscles. In fact, his stomach looked even more defined, though still not too much.

  He had his hands behind the small of his back as I liked, his knees spread wide. His cock was hard, and I wondered if he’d made sure of that or if it already had been. I decided I didn’t care. It’d spend enough time over the next two and a half days that way anyway. I was seriously considering not letting him come until Christmas morning either.

  It really did a lot for me to control his orgasms. While it wasn’t his favorite thing, he told me he liked that I took that control, let him serve me that way. He’d explained to me that it had more to do with serving me, submitting to me, than any kind of turn on or turn off. His sex, his body, was mine to control, and he liked giving that up to me.

  I certainly liked taking it. The frustration satisfied my sadist, the control satisfied my need to dominate, and it simply turned me on to no end to have the power to say yes or no. I was well aware that at any time he could say “cherry” and make the choice himself. And I’d give it. But I had a feeling he’d fight everything in him before he used it, especially over something like this. So, barring that, I had that power, and it got my dick hard every time I thought about it.

  I loved how straight his back was, how he held his head high. I wanted him to be proud of the boy he was. I wanted him to never question how proud I was of him, how much I wanted and loved him. It would take time, but I could already see the beginnings of that in the straight line of his spine and the proud tilt of his chin.

  He wasn’t just beautiful physically, though, of course, I thought he was. He was beautiful, graceful in his submission too. So eager to please, so open. Even when he was so frustrated he couldn’t think clearly, he tried so hard to obey. All he’d been through showed me just how strong a man he was, and yet he readily knelt at my feet, offering himself for me to do with as I wished.

  With a deep breath, I crossed the room slowly, letting him anticipate me. When I walked around behind him, I saw his asscheeks spread as he rested on his heels. I could clearly see his hole was lubed, and I’d have bet the lion’s share of my next quarter profits that he’d stretched it right before he left his loft.

  It took another breath and careful grasp of my control before I could continue. I wanted to throw him over the couch right that second and fuck him within an inch of his life. But I had plans.

  I ran my fingers through his hair, thrilling in the way he relaxed at my touch. I loved that I could do that for him from something as simple as a touch like that. “Very good, beautiful boy,” I murmured.

  He didn’t believe that and I knew it. It was one reason I said it so often. When I got his permanent collar, that would be on the engraved plate. I sincerely hoped he’d want one, especially since I’d already ordered it. I didn’t know when we might do it, but I wanted to have it ready when we were.

  I took a seat at the end of the couch. “Bring the cushion and kneel here, boy.” I pointed between my feet.

  Yet again, he displayed his grace as he stood in one fluid move and crossed to me. He dropped the cushion between my feet and knelt with the same grace, immediately putting himself back into the presentation position.

  I gave in to the need for him for a brief moment, leaned forward, fisted my hand in his hair, and caught his lips in an almost brutal kiss. He opened to me, moaning into it. I plunged my tongue into his mouth, dominating it, dominating him, with that simple action.

  When I broke the kiss, we were both panting. His pupils were blown wide with his arousal and he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, as he worked to calm himself. I let go of his hair, brushing it down, then kissed him softly on the forehead.

  “Love you,” I whispered, pulling back to look at him.

  His eyes slid closed, and the look on his face stole my breath all over again. It still held awe, his own love for me mixed in. I saw some hope in there too. “I love you too.”

  With one more brush of lips to his forehead, I sat back. “Now, I’d like you to sit up here for a few minutes and talk to me.”

  He opened his eyes and raised his brows, but got to his feet. I turned to face him as he settled sideways on the couch next to me. His face held a perplexed expression, and in complete contrast, his cock still stood, proud and hard. “M-Mas…. Mal?”

  I smiled, thrilled that he understood the difference without me telling him. “I told you over e-mail that I had plans for this weekend.” He nodded and I continued. “I know you want to cook Sunday night.” I grinned at his blush. “And I’m looking forward to it. Outside of that, I’d like to try something with you.”

  He blinked at me, the puzzlement deepening. “Try something?”

  I nodded. “I’d like to spend the weekend putting you—and keeping you—i
n deep submission.”

  He frowned, eyebrows scrunching as he thought that over. “I’m… I’m not sure what you mean.”

  With a smile, I laid a hand on his knee. “It means, more than usual, you’ll focus on me—and only me—all weekend. You’ll focus on your submission, on your submissive mindset.”

  He looked thoughtful, though still slightly confused. “Okay….”

  I chuckled. “It’s okay if you don’t completely understand. What I’m hoping it’ll do for you is keep you from getting worked up over Monday.”

  He bit his lip, then let it go, cheeks coloring. “Uh, right, five,” he said before I could. I simply nodded. “You… you knew I would be.”

  It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded again anyway. “I did. I’ve learned enough about you, Kyle, to have a good idea what is going to affect you. I know this will. So, from a selfish perspective, I don’t want them ruining our Christmas.” I paused and took a deep breath. This was as good a time as any to tell him. “I told you the night we met that I lost someone because they weren’t safe. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors of the Dom that turned out to be a serial killer?”

  His eyes widened and he nodded slowly.

  “My sub at the time—my friend, Blake—was his last victim before he was caught.”

  Kyle gasped, eyes huge. “Your… you…. Oh God, Mal, I’m so sorry.”

  I held a hand up. “I blamed myself for it for a while. I didn’t love Blake. We were close friends, roommates, fuck buddies, Dom and sub… just about everything but in love. But I blamed myself, and that colored things for a long time. I thought I wasn’t Dom enough for him—” I paused and raised my eyebrow when Kyle made a choking sound.

  “I’m sorry, Mal, but I find that really hard to believe.”

  I flashed him a smile. “Well, funny you should say that. Cam managed to convince me of that too. That’s how I ended up at the dungeon the night you were auctioned. Anyway, I haven’t celebrated Christmas for the two years since Blake died. He died right before Christmas, three Christmases ago, now. Until now. You have made me want it again. And I don’t want your parents fucking that up.”