Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  “Calm down, boy,” Master Nash murmured to me. I hadn’t even seen him walk up. “Nothing to be worried about. I’ll win you, not them.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I murmured. I had trouble bringing myself to call Master Nash “Master.” Mal was my Master. I could show him respect, call him Sir. “Master” felt wrong now.

  “Good boy,” Master Nash praised.

  It wasn’t my Master’s praise, but it still helped a little. Master had talked to Master Nash at some point about the Doms and how they’d treated me. They weren’t banned from the club—that took something like ignoring safewords or limits—but he didn’t recommend them to new subs anymore either.

  I was startled when Master Nash opened Amy’s cage and helped her out. I hadn’t realized I’d been so lost in my fearful internal ramblings. I blinked as she was led to the stage. She stepped up, bowed her head, and clasped her hands behind her back.

  She was very pretty for a woman. I might not have been interested in them, but I could recognize prettiness. She wore a corset that made her waist look impossibly narrow, her small breasts larger and spilling out over top. Despite her lack of height, the heels she wore made her legs look like they went on forever. I guessed that was the point.

  I was very grateful I wasn’t a woman. Those shoes and that corset looked worse than anything Master could dream of putting me through. I shuddered involuntarily.

  The emcee introduced her, explained she was there by permission of her Master, Master Nash, and that she was open to rope or sensation only. Then he opened the bidding.

  Master Nash kept up with it, and when the amount topped out at six hundred uncontested, she grinned at him. I couldn’t help smiling a tiny bit. They seemed so unlikely—Nash had to be more than six and a half feet tall, very broad, and overall huge. And she was tiny. But they seemed happy enough. She stepped off the stage and went over to the payment table.

  And my cage was opened. I swallowed my fear and nerves and crawled out, then stood with my feet braced apart and hands held together behind my back. I had to take a few breaths, my heart pounding, but a moment later, Master Nash was there, touching my elbow and leading me to the stage.

  I stepped up, suddenly unwilling to look out at the audience. I wasn’t nervous, but if I didn’t look, I could pretend my own Master was out there somewhere, still wanting me. That he was just waiting to bid on me, win me, and wrap his strong hand around the back of my neck as I stepped off the stage. I could imagine him leaning in and murmuring something like I can’t wait to beat that ass for you, boy or even just Glad to see you again, boy. Love you. Or… well, anything.

  The emcee announced me, listed my availability and preference, and started the bidding at two hundred. I heard Master Nash’s voice accept. Two more voices joined in as the number climbed, and I waited, heart thudding so loud I was sure they could hear it on the other end of the dungeon. The bids broke five hundred, Master Nash’s voice beating every new offer.

  Suddenly, I really did not want to be on that stage. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk someone else winning me. I had to get to Master. I’d get down on my knees and beg him if I had to, I didn’t care. I’d been so, so, so stupid! I should have gone to him first. I should have called him the second I’d left my parent’s house. No, I should have called him from my mother’s office.

  How could I ever have thought he wouldn’t have wanted me? How could I ever have thought he’d take me out of pity? And now… now I’d blown it. Now he didn’t want me. Now, even if I did go to him, it would be out of pity.

  But I’d take pity. I’d take anything because I couldn’t be away from him anymore.

  I looked up to say something to the emcee and froze at what I saw.

  “Eight hundred! Going once!”

  “One thousand dollars,” my Master called from the back, his eyes fixed on me.

  I stopped breathing. I stared, mouth agape, unable to tear my gaze away for anything in the world in that moment. My vision tunneled to him, only him, and I couldn’t think of anything except He’s here.

  He’s here.

  Master’s here.

  White noise roared in my ears, and I started to go fuzzy around the edges and realized I still wasn’t breathing. I sucked in a breath.

  “Going twice!”

  I waited, muscles straining to run to him, but I held still. Something in his eyes told me to stay. I didn’t want to. I wanted to go to him, drop to my knees. But I wouldn’t disappoint him again.

  He was here.

  “Sold!”

  I finally released my muscles enough to step off the stage, but Master held a hand up slightly and I stayed. I vaguely registered the emcee stepping to the side as Master walked through the audience. The noise of the crowd filtered in then, murmuring, probably wondering why I was still onstage.

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. He was as gorgeous as always, maybe even more so for the time we’ve been apart. His hair, if possible, looked wilder. His chest was bare, save the harness he wore when he bought me the first time. His leather pants hugged him just as they had before, and my cock hardened from simply looking at him.

  Especially at the look in his eyes.

  Possessive. Maybe a little savage. And loving. Still loving.

  Oh God….

  I would not cry. I wouldn’t. I refused. But I wanted to. My eyes burned, a lump formed in my throat, and my breathing stuttered all over again.

  Then Master cleared the group and stepped up on the stage next to me. I turned to him, I couldn’t have stopped myself for anything in that moment. I opened my mouth to speak, though I had no idea what I was going to say.

  But Master put a finger on my lips, saving me from trying. He reached behind him and pulled out something that I guessed he’d had in the waistband of his pants. I blinked at it, completely derailed for a moment. He held a velvet jewelry box, probably three or four inches wide and a good eight inches long.

  No, it couldn’t be. After all I did, he wouldn’t….

  Master opened it. “I should have done this sooner, beautiful boy,” he murmured.

  I barely heard it. I was too busy trying to assimilate what I was seeing. It was exactly what I thought. I had no idea what the metal was. It was silver in color, though it looked more like platinum. In the front, in the center, lay an engraved plate.

  Master Mal’s

  Beautiful boy

  On each end of the plate, two lengths of interlocking rings that created an almost square chain connected with solid rings. They met in the back at a square catch with a hole in the center. A lock.

  A matching plate and chain nestled in the velvet in the middle of the collar, though the chain was much shorter. And this plate had a different inscription. It read simply:

  Kyle’s Master

  “Master,” I croaked, and as I looked up at him, the tears I’d tried so hard to hold back threatened even more. “Is… do….”

  “Will you accept my permanent collar, Kyle? Be my boy forever?”

  That was it, that was all it took. I couldn’t stop my tears from spilling over to save my life. I licked my lips, trying desperately to remember how to make sound. “You… you really want me?”

  Master smiled and nodded. “For the rest of our lives, Kyle.”

  “But I… I… I’ve done… I’ve been….”

  Master shook his head. “No, baby. It’s all right.” He frowned, looking down. “If you don’t want to, if you don’t like it—”

  Oh God, no! Without a second thought, I dropped to my knees at his feet and managed to clear my throat. “I offer you my service, Master, and would love to wear your permanent collar.”

  I thought he whispered something like Oh thank God, but I couldn’t be sure.

  Master reached out, the key to the lock on my leather collar in his hand. I hadn’t seen him pull it out or put the box down, but I couldn’t care. His hand shook slightly as he turned the key and removed the lock. I sucked in a breath when he pulled off
the leather, but then the metal collar slid into place and Master fiddled with the lock on the back. The silence I hadn’t noticed before allowed me to hear the tiny snick as Master set the lock.

  “I accept your service and promise to take care of it—and you—for as long as you’ll wear it.”

  Master’s voice was a little shaky, and I took a chance and looked up at him. “I know you will, Master. Thank you.”

  He held the bracelet version out to me, and I took the other thin silver one off and replaced it. I was surprised to see the clasp was a smaller version of the lock on mine. I looked at him and he nodded. “As the lock on your collar binds you to me, so does the lock here bind me to you.”

  I’m not sure what to call the sound that came out of my throat. I didn’t try to interpret it. I simply focused on taking the tiny key Master handed to me and turning it in the lock. I turned Master’s hand over, leaned forward, and kissed the plate over my name.

  “Thank you, boy,” Master whispered. “Thank you, Kyle.”

  It took me a full minute of struggling with myself to speak. “Thank you, Mal.”

  Master hauled me to my feet and into his arms. A second later, he crushed his mouth to mine in a kiss more possessive, more savage than any before. My arms went around him, and I opened to him, taking everything he gave and reveling in his want and love.

  As if from a distance, I heard applause and voices raised in a cacophony of sound. I didn’t care, couldn’t focus on it. The only thing that mattered was in my arms, kissing me.

  When we broke apart, panting hard, we stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  “I am too, Kyle.”

  “But… you didn’t do anything wrong! I did!”

  “I don’t necessarily agree, but now is not the time to discuss it. I love you. I’m so happy to have you here again,” he said, squeezing his arms.

  “I love you, Mal. Thank you, thank you for….” I trailed off, unable to figure out how to say what I was thinking.

  He smiled, kissing me again, though lightly this time. “I know. You’re welcome. Now… shall we go pay for you, then work out your punishment?”

  I nodded enthusiastically. I needed it. I needed to atone for things, and then maybe, just maybe, I could start to let go of the fears, the way I fucked up so badly. “Yes, Master.”

  He took the key I held since I had nowhere to put it and tucked it into his pocket. We went to the table, and the lady behind it beamed at us. “Congratulations!”

  I blushed and looked up at Master. I knew I had an insanely sappy look on my face, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Thank you,” Master answered for us. “I’m a lucky man.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” I said, turning back to her.

  She laughed. “It’s good you both think so.” She held out the contract. “I’m still making you sign it.”

  We both laughed and did so, understanding there were still liability issues with the dungeon. “Thank you,” Master said, after he signed and pushed it over to me.

  I added my name to the line and handed it back to her.

  “Thank you! The LGBT center is going to be very happy.”

  I paled slightly as I realized he spent another thousand dollars on me and turned to Master. “Master! I…. The money, that’s—”

  He put a finger over my lips. “Hush. We’ll talk about it in a bit.”

  I closed my mouth and whispered, “Yes, Master.”

  He kissed me quickly and stepped away from the table. “Let’s find a quiet corner. We’ve got a little while until midnight yet.”

  I nodded and fell into step behind him. It felt so good to be there, following him, in that specific place. He led me to the far corner of the dungeon. I was surprised to see it was empty, not even Mistress Sammy or Cam around. I glanced around and saw them at a spanking bench in another corner.

  When Master sat, I started to kneel next to him, but he reached out a hand. “Let’s talk up here first.”

  I swallowed but settled onto the cushion next to his. He reached over the arm of the sofa and came back with the club blanket, which he spread over me. “Thank you,” I said gratefully, realizing for the first time how cold I was. “The, uh, jock doesn’t provide much warmth.”

  Master laughed. “No, I’d guess it doesn’t. I have your chaps with me, if you’d like to put them on when we’re done.”

  I blinked at him, then smiled. “I’d like that, Master. I….” I hesitated, then took a breath. “I don’t necessarily want everyone to stare at me.”

  His smile was immediate and blinding. “I don’t want them to either. That body belongs to me. If I choose to share with the class, that’s up to me.”

  I chuckled at his phrasing. Then what we were there to discuss came back to me, and I dropped the smile and swallowed. “I…. Uh….” I reached up to brush my fingers over my new collar. The metal had already warmed to my skin. I liked the weight of it. While I’d get used to it eventually, I thought I’d always be able to shift it or something and be reminded of what it was. “I fucked up,” I ended up saying.

  Master didn’t laugh. “Yes. I’m not sure counting infractions is the right way to go about this, though.”

  I swallowed again and nodded. “I don’t think so either. I’ve… I’m not sure I can count the number of times I bit my lip since Monday.”

  He did chuckle at this. “That’s understandable and, really, the least of your crimes.”

  I sighed, frowning. “I broke every rule you gave me,” I whispered, my heart thudding. I looked up at him and the expression on his face twisted my stomach and made the lump in my throat grow exponentially.

  Disappointment.

  “I’m sorry, Master,” I managed, trying to hold back my tears.

  He nodded. “I know. But—”

  “That’s not enough.”

  “No. You need more. For the first time since we’re together, I’m not going to settle for one spanking. Tonight, you’ll get twenty swats with your new paddle. Then, starting tomorrow, every day for the next week, you’ll get ten more hard swats in the morning. What do you think of that?”

  I buried the whimper with effort. I had no right to whine about this. I’d put Master through a week of hell with my silence. I’d let him worry, I’d put him off, when I knew better. He’d done nothing but show me his trust and love, and I hadn’t given him mine, not when it counted. “That’s fair, Master,” I murmured, near tears already and he hadn’t even lifted the paddle once yet.

  “Now, let’s get this part over. We’ve got twenty minutes until midnight, and then we’re going home.”

  I stood, folding the blanket and setting it with his bag. “Where…?”

  He pointed to the spanking bench nearby. “Over the bench, but I’m not tying you down. You will stay on there on your own.”

  “Yes, Master,” I murmured, heart pounding, understanding. I was accepting his punishment, not being made to take it. As I settled onto the bench and gripped the legs of it by the armrests, my eyes blurred.

  “You’ll count,” Master said from next to me. “You’ll otherwise keep your sounds quiet. You may make them, but they’ll be quiet.”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “Is that clear, boy?”

  “Yes, Master,” I whimpered.

  “Safewords?”

  I took a deep breath. “Cherry and lemon, Master.”

  “And?”

  “I’ll use them if I need to.” I looked up, and whatever was in my expression seemed to satisfy him.

  “Very well, then.” He stepped back, and in the mirror, I watched him move. “Eyes down, boy.”

  I closed them and waited. His hand squeezed my ass, and then he pulled his hand away. I knew it was coming, I was expecting it, and maybe that’s why it hurt so bad. Or maybe because I knew I deserved this, because I wanted it to hurt.

  Maybe I simply felt Master’s disappointment in it. />
  I didn’t know. But the pain from the strike was awesome in its magnitude, and it took me a moment to spit out the count. Especially because it was a pain I really did not like. I wanted to scream, but I gritted my teeth and held it in. Master didn’t want to hear these sounds. And I was going to do everything I could to wipe away the disappointment he had in me. I’d jumped, I couldn’t help it, and I resettled, determined to stay still for the rest.

  I recognized the tears after the third swat, though I don’t know if I’d started crying sooner or not. I guessed they’d started after the first one and I was too focused on the pain to notice.

  He didn’t let up, every one he gave me as hard as the first. My ass was on fire, my skin throbbing with the pain. Every one of those twenty swats reverberated through my ass and muscles, along my body, and took every bit of effort I had to accept mostly in silence, except for my count.

  I’m not sure when the sobbing started. Probably around the tenth swat. That might have also been when I tacked the “I’m sorry, Master” on after “Thank you.” I couldn’t be sure. The entire spanking was just a huge haze of pain.

  I couldn’t move when it was over. My hands had locked themselves around the legs of the bench. My throat was raw from sobbing and holding it all in. Tears still streamed down my face, and it took me a while to realize I was still saying, “I’m sorry,” over and over.

  “Shh, beautiful boy, shhh,” Master murmured, prying my hands off the wood. He manhandled me to my feet just enough to scoop me into his arms. I didn’t pay attention to where he took me. Instead, I burrowed into him.

  Right where I belonged. I inhaled him, soaking up his warmth, his scent, and his strength. I was still whimpering quietly. I couldn’t seem to stop. My ass still throbbed, felt four times its normal size and so hot I was sure I could burn bacon on it.

  He didn’t touch it to soothe, and I didn’t dare. There was still a part of me that needed to hurt. So when Master sat on the couch and set my painful ass on his legs, I moaned but otherwise didn’t say anything.

  Except, I guessed, the “I’m sorry,” I didn’t realize I was still saying over and over.

  “Shh, now, beautiful boy. It’s over. I’m so proud of you. You did so well.” He lifted my chin and kissed my cheeks over my still-running tears, then my forehead and back to my cheeks. He brushed them away with his fingers, and finally I settled into a few hiccups, then quiet. “You took that so well, baby. So well.”