Another way

by Anna Martin

  “No. Neck, shoulders, upper back… too visible. Too easy for people to see.” His hands and lips skimmed down over my body. “Back of bicep? Oh, now that would look pretty. What a lovely spot for teeth marks.” He put his tongue there instead. I knew he would never mark me in an obvious place.

  “Your ass is so pretty too,” he continued. “I love it. And look, you’re already wearing my stripes. But I think that has been tortured enough already tonight.”

  There were sounds in the room that I was only dimly aware that I was making. I craved him, his touch, whatever it was he wanted to give me. As he kissed down the back of my leg, I let myself float in my subspace, knowing that I trusted him beyond anything else. Then, finally, his lips came down on the inside of my knee.

  He sucked hard, breaking the blood vessels and causing the skin to bruise, and to finish, added his teeth to the mark. It was temporary, sure, and I could easily explain it away if needed, saying I’d walked into something. Only he and I would know how it had got there.

  Knowing that I would be wearing the result of his need for me around for the week or so it took to heal almost pushed me over the edge. I nearly came, but fought it back.

  “Yellow,” I gasped.

  Master immediately released my hands but left my other bonds in place.

  “Tell me where you are,” he said in a clear voice.

  “I was going to come,” I said. “I need a moment to back down.”

  “Shall I untie you?”

  “No, that would make it worse,” I groaned.

  “I’m here. If you need to end the session, use your word. There are no repercussions for using your safeword, Jesse. I’ll wait right here until you tell me you’re ready to continue.”

  His words reassured me, even though he was repeating what I already knew. I took advantage of the fact my hands were free and ran them over my face, pushing my sweaty hair back, then rearranged my body back over the bench, making sure my wrists were in position so they could be attached again without Master having to move me. Then I took deep, clearing breaths and fought my mind away from the situation I was in. I had a mental list of genuinely mundane things I could do in my head while I forced attention away from my cock, and picked the task of wallpapering a room. By the time I had finished mentally hanging the last piece of paper, I was ready to keep going.

  “Thank you, Master,” I said softly, sure now that I wasn’t going to fail him.

  “No, thank you for your honesty, Jesse,” he said. “Is it okay for me to touch you?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He crossed to me and took my hand, checking my pulse. Obviously satisfied, he collected a cool hand towel from the corner of the room and wiped down my neck and face.

  “Good boy,” he said, brushing my hair back from my forehead. “I’m proud of you.”

  My chest swelled with his praise. I expected him to tie me back down to the bench, but instead he released the ropes from my knees.

  “Kneel for me,” he commanded.

  My knees were weak as I stood and moved to the center of the room, the spot he meant when he commanded for this, and I knew he could have helped me, but instead he let me have my dignity. I was grateful for that.

  He stood before me, naked and achingly hard, and I dropped my head and laced my fingers behind my head. This was perfect.

  Chapter Four

  HE LET me wait in that position for a few moments, letting me collect myself before we continued.

  “What do you want?”

  “To serve you, Master,” I said immediately.

  “Jesse, you may suck my cock,” Master said.

  I leaned forward and hungrily swallowed him. Master groaned in encouragement, and I added my tongue to the act, swirling it around the head to gather his taste, then sucking him down my throat. I made my throat lax and my lips soft as I moved up and down his length, then added my teeth on the pull-up for an extra bit of friction.

  “More tongue,” he commanded in a hoarse voice.

  These little commands for attention to detail only spurred me on. I lapped at him harder, and he rewarded me with panting breaths and his fingers in my hair, guiding me.

  I released his cock from my mouth and leaned down to lick at his balls, my tongue sucking first one, then the other into my mouth and rolling them around. Then I sought out the loose, sensitive skin behind them and felt his orgasm start to build, the telltale tightening and straining of his body preparing to shoot.

  “Display,” Master ordered, and I reluctantly pulled back, straightening my body and spreading my knees, head held high and eyes down, hips jutting forward to show off my cock. My hands hadn’t moved from their position laced behind my neck, and I was hard for him again.

  “Open your mouth,” he grunted as his hand flew over his straining cock, and I felt mine twitch as I guessed at what was about to happen.

  He came in almost violent bursts, his hot come aimed at my mouth; some of it did land there, although a fair amount hit my cheeks and lips and neck and chest. I licked my lips and swallowed what he had given me, licking his sticky hand when that was offered to me too. The spunk cooled on my skin as I watched Master come down from his orgasm, the skin on his chest flushed pink, and in that moment I thrived on the humiliation, letting the shame throb through me. I had failed. He had corrected me. I was his.

  “Good boy,” Master repeated, petting my hair softly. I held my display position, waiting for him to collect the cloth he had used earlier to wipe his hands. He eventually told me to stand and led me to the wall, where I braced my hands and forearms, sticking my ass back out to him so he could spread lotion into my reddened skin to help with the bruising.

  Only then, once he had wiped his hands again, did he offer me the cloth so I could wipe my face. When I was done, I resumed my standing position in the center of the room so he could instruct me on my next task. I was hoping, desperately, that he would have changed his mind and would allow me to come—my cock was aching—but I wasn’t counting on it.

  “Do not come,” he warned me again as he reached down to release my cock from the leather ring, and I had to grit my teeth to follow his command as the blood was allowed to flow again. He let me have a few moments, supposedly tidying up the playroom as I composed myself.

  Then he removed the collar and cuffs from my neck and wrists, and leaned in to softly kiss my forehead.

  “You did so well today, Jesse. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you, Master,” I said softly, still floating in my subspace even with the removal of my collar. It would take me a while to come down from the physical and emotional rollercoaster of the session.

  “The session is over, Jesse,” he said just as softly. “Okay. Let’s go get you showered and dressed.”

  “I can do it myself,” I said quietly, not arguing with him but not wanting Master to have to do things for me. I should be bathing him.

  “Oh no. You’ve just had a huge session, and you’re still floating. I want to be there in case you drop.”

  “Thank you,” I told him and accepted his offered hand to walk with him.

  We were mostly quiet as I took a quick, efficient shower and he leaned against the tiled wall in the guest bathroom, watching me. I tried not to feel self-conscious under his inquisitive, silent watch, telling myself he had seen me in much more intimate situations than this.

  He held a towel out to me as I finished, and I had an overwhelming desire to be held by him.

  “Come on,” he said, smiling and taking hold of my hand.

  I followed him through to his room and saw my clothes neatly stacked on a carver chair in the corner. I quickly pulled my underwear and T-shirt on, but left my jeans off for the time being. My ass was still feeling sore.

  Master—or maybe he was Will now—got a sweatshirt out of his closet and held it out to me.

  “Thanks.” I shrugged into it gratefully and took his hand again as we headed back downstairs.

  I was sort of s
urprised when we bypassed the kitchen and he led me through to his lounge, pulling me into an overstuffed armchair with him. I chose not to question his motives and just did what felt natural to me, curling into his side with my legs over his and my head tucked into his shoulder.

  Will ran his hand through my still-damp hair, then leaned across to take a remote from the sofa and clicked on some soft music.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Good,” I said honestly. “Relaxed, floaty, safe.”

  “Good,” he echoed, his lips incredibly close to my face. I could feel his heart beating through the thin material of his shirt. He smelled like shower and fabric softener and… man.

  Coming down from the incredible high of the session like this was different. He’d taken me to new places, sure, but I’d never been held afterward. It was like finding your feet again after swimming for hours—the movements are familiar, but your knees always feel a bit weak. This was different, though; it was a mental challenge rather than a physical one.

  I turned in his strong arms and was faced with his lips, right there, and I was desperate to kiss him. Will sighed softly, and I knew I had to find out what it would be like, in this moment, to take the initiative and do it.

  My eyelids fluttered closed and I leaned forward, brushing my lips over his. He was still at first and his lips were dry and soft…. I was annoyed at his passivity and sucked his bottom lip into my mouth, running my tongue back and forth across it. We kissed slowly, making out almost innocently until he pulled back with another sigh.

  “We could be so good together,” he said quietly, resting his forehead against mine.

  I nodded silently. “I just… I don’t know, Will. I’m not ready to be gay.”

  I felt him wince against me.

  “Wait—that came out wrong,” I started, but Will cut me off with a quick kiss.

  “No, I understand. You’ve been in heterosexual relationships all your life, so this is a much bigger step.”

  “Have you always been gay?” I asked, realizing that I’d never asked this question before.

  Will hummed into my hair. “I suppose so,” he said. “I would never completely dismiss the possibility of a relationship with a woman, but it would be the exception rather than the rule.

  “I suppose I see sexuality in shades of gray, rather than black or white,” he continued. “Everyone has the ability to be attracted to both genders, you just end up choosing whichever fits you best.”

  “I get that.”

  “Jesse?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  I laughed. “I don’t know. I’m twenty-four, you know. I’m just living my life for a while.”

  “I’m only twenty-five.”

  “No fucking way,” I shifted again, causing him to wince as I put all my weight on his thigh. I had no idea how we had gone eight months without me knowing his age, but it had obviously happened. “I thought you were older than me.”

  “Thanks,” he laughed.

  “Not like that,” I said, leaning back against the arm of the chair. “It’s just that you’re so sure of yourself.”

  “I never went to college,” he admitted. “I joined my father’s company when I was done with high school and just worked my way up.”

  I knew he had something to do with the technology industry, but we’d never spoken about his career at length. “Do your parents know you’re gay?”

  He winced again. “Do they know? Probably. Have I ever come out to them? No.”

  “That surprises me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re so settled with your sexuality,” I explained, trailing a fingertip up and down his forearm.

  “When I’m ready to actually settle down with someone, then I’ll introduce them to him,” Will said. “Until then, what’s the point in rocking the boat?”

  We were quiet for a while, listening to the CD end, then the slight whirr-click as it changed to the next one in the player.

  “I could probably pick a better moment to bring this up, but our contract is due to be looked at again.”

  “Hmm,” I acknowledged his words, rearranging his arms around my body again. Our original, informal agreement was for about three months, then we had both agreed to a six-month contract to keep us going. It was a relatively brief document, outlining our responsibilities to each other, both our hard limits, and my safewords, but I felt a lot better about being with him knowing that I had that underpinning our relationship. Laura held a copy of it too; she knew everything that happened between us. Well, almost everything.

  “Is there anything you want to change?” he asked.

  “More time like this,” I said immediately.

  “That’s up to you,” he said gently. “We usually have time constraints on our sessions, so I can’t spend a lot of time with you bringing you down again. I would love to. I did this a lot with my last sub.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t like thinking about his previous subs.

  “We can talk about this formally later. I just wanted to get a feel for if you had any problems.”

  “Problems? No. I think, sometimes, maybe you could push me further.” This was a dangerous thing to say to a Dom, and I was aware of it. “Like more of what we did today. I need to be a submissive, your submissive, not just sexually submissive.”

  “I can do that,” Will said with a wicked smirk. “Playing in public is still out, I guess?”

  “Hard limit,” I told him. “I can’t risk Adele hearing about it, Will.”

  “No, no, that’s okay,” he assured me. “How about me bringing in someone else for a session?”

  “As a sub or a Dom?”

  He thought for a moment. “My initial reaction was as a sub, but if you want to do a session with two Doms, I’m sure I could find someone who would agree to that. It would be a very tough session on you, though.”

  I let the idea bounce around in my head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m cool with that. Either way.”

  “Okay. Anything else?”

  “I don’t know. Edge play?”

  Will hummed in discontentment. “I’ll do it, but only with a spotter. Nothing edgy with just the two of us up there.”

  “That’s fine. More scenes? Not just sessions, but in character scenes.”

  “Sure. Do you want another six months? Or something else?”

  “Maybe….” I thought it over. “Six months is good for me. But on the condition that we can revise it if our circumstances change?”

  Will nodded. “I’m scared that maybe I’ve changed our relationship in a way that we won’t be able to get back.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “Didn’t I just agree to sign with you for another six months?”

  “Yeah, but it’ll always be there. I can’t take it back.”

  “Leaving Adele would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” I told him, letting him pull me close again. “My family expects me to marry her. Hell, I expected to marry her eventually.”

  “What’s holding you back?” he asked. “Laura carried on a D/s relationship alongside her marriage. What makes you think you couldn’t do the same thing?”

  “Adele is….” I struggled for the words. “She’s very vanilla, but that’s not really an excuse because Laura’s husband is too. Vanilla implies sexually; I suppose what I’m trying to say is that she’s very traditional. Old-fashioned. She doesn’t have very high aspirations for herself. She could make more out of the business if she wanted to, but I get the impression she wants to settle down and have children, be a wife and a mother.”

  “And you don’t want that?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s fair for me to continue to be with her, but I’m scared to leave.”

  “I’m not going to comment on your relationship unless you ask me a direct question,” he teased. We were definitely just Will and Jesse now. Any other formal titles had gone out of the window with our easy conv
ersation, even though his arms remained locked around my body.

  “Should I leave her?” I looked up into his eyes, asking him the one question I wanted someone else to answer for me.

  “Whoa,” he said, bringing his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “No comment. I plead the fifth. I can’t tell you to do that, Jesse.”

  “Yes, you can,” I begged him. “Tell me to and I will.”

  “And that’s why I can’t,” he said gently. “If I command you to leave her, as your Dom, then you’ll always have a voice in the back of your head wondering if things would have worked out for the two of you if it weren’t for my meddling. This is one decision you have to come to on your own, baby.”

  “I know,” I sighed. “I don’t want to lead you on, Will, because I really don’t know what I want. Staying with Adele would be the easy option for me, and I might end up wanting that. Honestly. I don’t mean to hurt you, but at the same time you at least deserve the truth.”

  Will leaned in and pressed his head into my shoulder. It must have been an uncomfortable angle for him, but I understood the gesture—he wanted me to hold him for a moment.

  “I understand,” he whispered.

  “I’m so sorry,” I told him, knowing that I was hurting him already.

  “No, it’s fine,” he said.

  “I just… I need some time.”

  Will looked up at me and my heart clenched. “I can give you that,” he said seriously.

  It was more than I deserved.

  “I don’t want to ignore your feelings, though.”

  He sighed heavily. “It was a moment of weakness, Jesse. I apologize and I won’t let you see it again.”

  “I don’t want you to apologize for it. What we shared was possibly the most intense thing—” I broke off, not knowing how to explain it. “I want that again.”

  “You can’t have us both,” he said gently. “I’m too freaking jealous. I can’t share you, Jesse, it’s not in my nature. Polyamory doesn’t suit me.” He smirked then.

  “You’re sharing me now, aren’t you?” I argued.

  “No. I’m not. You don’t give me any of your heart at the moment. None at all. And I don’t want a little piece of it, I want all of it. All of you.”