Tenderly Wicked

by Katerina Ross

  “The nicotine from cigarettes provides an addictive high. Eliminating it will cause your body to experience physical withdrawal symptoms and cravings,” Max continued in a solemn voice. “Common nicotine withdrawal symptoms include irritability, anxiety, difficulty concentrating, restlessness, increased appetite, headaches, insomnia, coughing, fatigue. Uh, nasty. It will get better in a few weeks as the toxins are flushed from your body … blah-blah-blah. Now, what do they recommend? Use relaxation techniques, take hot baths, avoid caffeine, drink plenty of fluids, distract yourself—the activity doesn't matter as long as it gets your mind off of smoking. Hmm. I can think of a whole lot of activities for you. As for relaxation techniques, perhaps we should use ginger plugs more frequently. Remember how they helped you to loosen up your muscles?”

  Vadim made a face at him, but that was probably more of a show. Further experiments with ginger had been very satisfying for both parties so far.

  “In fact,” Max went on, “they suggest one more technique, acupuncture. You know, sticking needles into various body parts. They say it triggers the release of endorphins, natural pain relievers that allow the body to relax. Sounds interesting.”

  This time, Vadim actually shuddered. For Max, it sometimes was more fun to scare him with a promise of some torment than to carry the threat out. The idea of bringing needles into play was tempting, but Max decided he’d need to do more research on the subject before trying something like that.

  Some more milder suggestions then.

  “Now, what else? Exercises, definitely. It reduces cravings, helps relieve stress, improves mood, and keeps you from gaining weight. Not eating,” Max pointed at Vadim accusingly, “doesn’t count as a way to stay fit. Also, they say it helps if you hold and squeeze something in your hand, instead of a cigarette. A pen, or a paper clip, whatever. A substitute to satisfy, um, the need for tactile stimulation, as they call it. I think I like this tactile stimulation bit…” He made a dreamy pause, savoring the words, before concluding, “And perhaps the most important thing: you should reinforce your victories with a treat from time to time, as an incentive. What would you like? A pair of handcuffs? A larger vibrator? Oh no, I think I’ve got a better plan that combines all three tactics. Exercising, keeping your hands busy, and getting you a reward. For what could be a better reward than a chance to please your Dom? You may let go of that dildo—yeah, put it into the drawer—and come here.”

  Max moved his laptop aside and turned onto his back. Vadim obediently climbed onto the bed and kneeled at his feet. His palms slowly skimmed up Max’s ankles and thighs in the direction of his crotch.

  “Oh, almost forgot,” Max said offhandedly. “One more recommendation. Remind yourself why you quit. That should be easy. Tell me, why did you?”

  Vadim kept his gaze demurely lowered, but a small smile curled up the corners of his lips. “Because I’m yours and you gave me an order.”

  “Mmm, damn right,” Max murmured hoarsely as Vadim’s hands reached the strategically important area.

  He was almost completely happy. Almost because Vadim hadn’t moved in with him as Max had thought he would, and had never mentioned that he wanted to. Yes, Vadim spent most of his free time here, and some of his belongings casually migrated to Max’s place. Also, he insisted on getting groceries from time to time, to fill the fridge, like a common roommate would do. He had even shown Max his passport, with an awkward chuckle. “So that you know for sure that I am who I am.” Vadim Yakshin, his full name read. He looked young and desperately serious in his photo. Just as serious as when he’d added, “A stranger with the keys to your apartment—that might be romantic but, um, I think I don’t want to be a stranger to you.”

  Yet sometimes he called to say he wouldn’t come and to ask if it was all right. Maybe he needed privacy, some time away from his submissive role, or maybe it was an embarrassing question of paying the rent that spoiled the concept of living together ever after. Max never demanded that Vadim explain himself. He was afraid to scare Vadim off by prying.

  Maybe he was getting too greedy. They were having a good time together—wasn’t that enough? After a few vanilla relationships, not too prolonged, and more than two years of celibacy while he’d been figuring out what he really wanted, he finally had the kind of sex he’d dreamed of, and in copious amounts. But it bothered Max more and more that it wasn’t a 24/7 deal they had. He wanted it to be something permanent but didn’t know how to ask for it.

  ****

  Fighting Vadim’s smoking habit went on quite successfully. Not every coping method Max provided him was kinky. When Vadim appeared to be too tired after work, Max confined himself to just plying his tense muscles with massage and slowly forcing him to unbind with measured touches and stretches. Sometimes he gave Vadim a hot bath. Max found it surprisingly gratifying, simply taking care of someone who put himself into his hands.

  But sometimes, gentle didn’t seem to be enough.

  This time, Vadim returned late from some kind of meeting with clients in a sharp pale-gray suit, his face almost matching its color. He talked little, but Max knew what he wanted when a hard day at work left him feeling worn out, more emotionally than physically. To leave all his worries behind, to be brought out of his head and into his body—out of his thoughts and into the here and now where nothing else mattered but instantaneous pleasure and pain. For that, he needed rough. That was very much to Max’s liking, too.

  The suit was soon dealt with and tossed away. Max got Vadim entirely naked, apart from his posh silk tie, and now regarded him with satisfaction—a few steps away, still fully clothed himself—like an artist admiring a beautiful sculpture. “Such a minimalistic outfit definitely becomes you. I have no doubts your whimsical clients would be more easily persuaded to settle the deal with your company if you attended the meeting in this state of attire. They surely would be keen to engage your services.”

  Max stepped closer, twisted the tie’s end around his fist and tugged, forcing Vadim closer. “What services would you provide?”

  Vadim shuddered as Max slid a palm down his chest and belly, firmly holding the tie wrapped around his other hand at the same time, so that its loop dug into Vadim’s neck. It was hugely entertaining to keep Vadim at a loss whether his Dom would be tender or wicked tonight, or maybe both.

  “I’m sure they would like to try what they were offered, right then and there,” Max persisted. He slowly licked his finger in front of Vadim’s face, reached behind him to part Vadim’s buttocks and screwed it into the warmth between them, up to the first knuckle. “Oh, they would make good use of you. I’m not sure you would enjoy it, bent over the conference table and so many men ramming this tight little hole, one after another, all over again.” Max punctuated his words by a few rough jabs, making Vadim gasp and squirm, impaled on his finger and half-strangled by the tie. “But what would follow—you’d enjoy it even less. If I learned that you’d let someone else touch you, I would punish you severely.”

  Using the tie as a leash, Max forced Vadim on the carpet on all fours, right against the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door. “Look at you, pretty thing. So eager. So fuckable. Wriggling your little ass around. That won’t do. You belong to me. No one else has the right to lay a hand on you.”

  In the mirror, they looked like a cruel master and his slutty slave, ready for use. Dressed in black jeans and a matching t-shirt, Max made a striking contrast to the naked young man at his feet.

  Max tugged the leash up so that the noose of the tie tightened around Vadim’s neck. Vadim instinctively tried to pull himself up too, but Max put a knee at the small of his back. “No-no, you’re not going anywhere. Not tonight. I think your ass needs to be reminded whom it belongs to.”

  The main benefit of living in a small apartment was that everything could be placed within reach. A tilt to the side, the short leash still in his hand, and Max grabbed the necessary item from the armchair. It had been hidden beneath a cushion because Max didn’t wan
t to spoil the surprise for Vadim. He’d chosen this short leather crop with care and had only smacked it against the cushion so far.

  The sound it produced against Vadim’s bare ass was much more satisfying. And the noise Vadim made was even more enjoyable.

  Max gave him time to adjust after the first blow and experimentally swung the crop in the air a few times. Its braided handle felt secure in his grip, the shaft of fiberglass, covered in leather, was flexible but not too much, and the triangular leather tongue at its end promised to leave nice pink marks.

  “Look at me in the mirror,” Max demanded. “I want you to see how I blister your ass.”

  A controlled flick of the wrist—and the crop came down again. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Max wondered if the neighbors could hear the distinctive snapping sounds. On the other hand, if they really could, they had probably gotten used to the unusual noises coming from behind the wall.

  Pressing at Vadim’s back with a knee, Max kept working on his buttocks until he was satisfied with their new color. Only then was the crop tossed back onto the armchair.

  Max shoved the end of the tie into Vadim’s mouth. “Hold it for a while. I need both hands now.”

  He knelt down behind his sub and hurriedly unzipped his jeans, too aroused to hold back anymore. He tapped his cock against the sore flesh and slid it back and forth along the crease between Vadim’s buttocks. “You want this in, don’t you?” He caught Vadim’s glance in the mirror and savored the expression of blatant need on his face. Sometimes he wished for Vadim to say more clearly what he wanted during their interactions, but on the other hand, wouldn’t it spoil the mood?

  The whole scene could have looked comical and degrading, and yet it didn’t. With the tip of his own tie between his teeth and a well-whipped ass presented for further use, Vadim was breathtakingly graceful in his submission, and shameless desire made him all the more gorgeous. He never took his eyes off Max, faithful to his instructions, and impatiently spread his legs a little wider.

  “Wanna give me better access?” Max teased him. “That’s a good boy. Eager for my cock, are we? You’ll get it soon. All of it. But don’t you dare come and make a mess on the carpet, or I’ll make you lick it all up, and then your balls will get acquainted with the crop too.”

  Vadim hungrily watched him extract a condom from the pocket of his jeans and uncap a tube of lubricant, laid out in advance within easy reach, just like the crop. Max felt like a magician performing a thoroughly planned trick and conjuring things seemingly out of nowhere.

  When he finally worked his way into Vadim’s clenching passage, he leaned in and grabbed the tie again, like a bridle he needed for riding a wild horse. Moving slowly at first, gripping Vadim around the waist with his free arm, he pulled the soft silk taut against Vadim’s throat. Vadim moaned and pushed back, and it almost sent Max over the edge. His thrusts became harder, and the tie closed around Vadim’s neck tighter and tighter. Max tried to be careful and not tug too vigorously, he loosened his grip a few times to allow Vadim a few seconds of frantic free breathing, but it must have been an extreme experience nevertheless.

  When Max felt he was desperately close, he released the tie, pulled away for a moment to flip Vadim on his back, and entered him again, brutally. “Max!” Vadim’s voice broke on the name. It took only a few rough tugs on his cock and a hard brush against his prostate—and his body convulsed with pleasure, semen splattering Max’s palm. Caught in a frenzy of lust, Max pushed in and out a few times more, and a violent release hit him, too.

  For quite some time they lay on the floor shaken and spent, Vadim crushed under Max’s weight and still impaled on his softening erection. Finally, Max found the strength to roll off the pliant body beneath him.

  “How do you feel?” he asked in a hoarse voice. He was worried Vadim hadn’t appreciated being half-strangled in the process of coupling, but his sub smiled at him blissfully. “Fine. Maybe somewhat giddy.”

  “That’s because the blood rushes back.” Max tapped at his forehead. “They say it can feel euphoric. Does it?”

  “Mmm, not euphoric, no. More like strange. Wanna sleep. Do you mind if I doze off now? Though I probably should take a shower after crawling on the floor,” he mumbled reluctantly as an afterthought. “And my stomach is sticky.” He tried to wipe a dribble of congealing semen with a finger. “Uh, what a dirty boy I am.”

  “Come to bed,” Max said. “I’ll change the sheets tomorrow. As for sticky parts, I’ve got wet tissues, I’ll clean you up, just give me a sec.” He felt sleepy too, but the one in charge had to bring things to order, and that, unfortunately, was him.

  When he joined Vadim in bed after clearing the scene—putting the crop and lube away and hanging Vadim’s clothes he’d thrown all over the place into the wardrobe—his sub settled against his flank with a contented sigh and wrapped an arm around his midriff. Max combed a hand through his hair. “Are you all right?”

  “Uh-huh. Just tired.”

  Max yawned. “Me too. Go to sleep then.”

  In the night, there was always a moment of unpleasant shock if Max didn’t find Vadim lying next to him. But this time, there was light coming from under the bathroom door. Okay. Understandable. Max turned to his side and fell back to sleep, or so he thought, but when he opened his eyes again, he was still alone in bed. Had he zoned out for a minute or two?

  “Vadim?” he called out in a hushed voice.

  No answer came, and Max got out of the bed. The door was unlocked and ajar. Vadim stood there in nothing but boxers, rummaging through the contents of a small cabinet above the sink.

  “Sorry,” Vadim blurted out after a second of confusion, caught red-handed. “I was just looking for some pills. For a headache. I should have asked you if I might, I know, but I didn’t want to wake you up. I thought you might have a first aid kit here, so… Do you mind if I take this?” He nervously waved a blister of paracetamol.

  “Yeah, sure,” Max said automatically, still sleepy and not quite catching up, but then switched into a more active mode. “Wait. I’ll get you a mug.”

  A short rumble through the kitchenette and he returned with a mug full of water and held it out. Vadim’s hand felt cold and clammy to the touch. The poor chap didn’t look well, too pale in the artificial light.

  “Is it bad?” Max asked. Vadim smiled wanly at him. A rhetorical question of course. More importantly, had it happened because of their session? Could mild asphyxiation provoke a headache?

  Max had to admit, “I shouldn’t have choked you.”

  Vadim carefully placed the mug on the shelf of the sink. “You didn’t choke me. You were careful. And it’s not an unusual thing. Headaches, I mean. It’s not your fault. You see, I had a neck trauma a while ago. It’s long healed, but the headaches stayed.”

  “Does it happen often?”

  “No, not at all,” Vadim assured him hastily, as if he were afraid Max would immediately throw him out as damaged goods. “Mostly when I’m really tired. I know it’s a bit of a turn-off, sickness always is, and I shouldn’t have come here tonight, but I was kind of over-excited, I needed release ... well, you saw the way I was,” he finished.

  “You should have told me about the trauma,” Max chided him.

  Vadim wrapped both arms around himself. Maybe he was getting cold, or maybe it was a protective gesture. “Why, exactly? There isn’t much to tell. I’d rather not think about it.”

  “How can I plan a scene for you if you hold something back from me?” Max burst out, but stopped, having realized he was projecting on Vadim the anger he felt for himself. He was the Dom here. Wasn’t it his responsibility to care for Vadim’s safety? He should have asked for details on his health more persistently. They both had done blood tests, but apparently, that wasn’t enough to judge if some extreme practices were acceptable or not.

  “Your health, it’s vital information, and I’m not being over-dramatic,” Max added in a calmer voice. “It’s not good that I don
’t know if you have allergies, or phobias, any other problems. What if I wanted to try—I don’t know—electricity play, for instance, and it turned out you, god forbid, had a history of heart disease? It would be too dangerous. I could kill you. Unintentionally, but it’s the result that counts. If you don’t care about yourself, I get it. But I do care about you. Imagine how it would make me feel.”

  “I’m sorry,” Vadim breathed out.

  Max nodded. “Okay. Good. We’ll talk about it later. Now, will you come to bed?”

  Vadim hesitated for a moment. “I think I might be sick. Maybe not, but it’s better if I stay near the toilet for a while. Sorry again.”

  “I’ll get you a basin,” Max promised.

  Vadim still wavered. “I don’t want you to see me like this,” he finally confessed. “I know it must be revolting.”

  Max gently pulled him against his chest and stroked the hair at his nape. “You’re mine. In every condition you’re in,” he said quietly. “Your body belongs to me. Of course I want it to feel good and perform at its best. But I wouldn’t be repelled if I felt sick myself, I’d just make every effort to get better soon, so why would it be otherwise with another body I own?”

  “Oh,” Vadim exhaled, clearly surprised. “I didn’t see it like that.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” Max chuckled softly. “You treat your body like it’s still completely yours, but it’s not. When you exhaust yourself, or eat poorly, or smoke, it’s not only your problem from now on, but mine, too. Now, come back to bed, you’re all covered in goose bumps. Standing on cold tiles won’t improve your health at all.”

  He guided Vadim to bed and set a basin by his side, just in case. His improvised speech was sentimental, in a way, but rang true to his own ears. Now he was in charge of two bodies instead of one, and tonight he’d failed in taking care of one of them. He should be more cautious, or rather, he should have been more cautious, but what was the use of self-reproaches now?