“Let’s get something to drink,” Vadim suggested. He didn’t waste time gazing around as much as Max did and made his way straight to the bar. He looked alert.
They barely got their beers when Max noticed someone watching them intently. The man at the bar was dressed in full leathers, in a way that conveyed the “I am the alpha male” message. It made him intimidating but also attractive in a sinister way, Max had to admit with a pang of envy. Comparing himself to this man, Max felt how average looking and unimpressive he was.
Suddenly the man stood up and approached them. Or more precisely, he approached Vadim.
“Ah, Vádik,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Haven’t seen you around lately.” The diminutive version of his name made Vadim cringe, or maybe it was the man’s voice, but the guy didn’t seem to care. He looked Max over with an asserting gaze. “Have you bought yourself a new Dom? Is it all you could afford?”
“Piss off,” Vadim hissed angrily. Max had never seen him so wound up, eyes fierce and indignant.
The guy made a mockingly upset face. “Aw, so rude. A bit of an attitude problem, as always.” Then he turned to Max. “I’m afraid Vádik won’t introduce us. Too bad. I was curious who’d agree to have him. He’d been such trouble. He’s sure his money can buy him whatever he wants, a service top included. Not a real thing but someone who’d satisfy his subby needs. Spank his little ass and fuck the stars out of him. But you know what, Vádik?” He faced Vadim again, less nonchalant now than he wanted to appear, annoyance in his voice too. “Not everyone is for sale. If you don’t give in to your Dom like a sub should, no money will make up for it if a Dom has a tad of self-respect.”
“Gleb, I said leave us alone,” Vadim growled.
His frustrated plea only seemed to provoke more hostility. “Is he still the same, huh?” Gleb addressed Max, ignoring Vadim’s outburst as if he wasn’t worth noticing. “Tries to top you from the bottom if you get what I mean? Do you let him? Or are you man enough to teach this little shit to behave?”
“Did you teach him to behave?” Max inquired. In the corner of his eye, he saw Vadim’s hand clutching the counter, knuckles white.
Gleb let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, yes I did. Not that it helped much, but at least I taught him a good lesson on the day we parted, didn’t I, little one? Striped his back really well, for what he deserved.”
Max suddenly remembered a vivid pattern of bruises and abrasions on Vadim’s back and the way he tried to hide them.
“What was it? A belt?” Max asked, his voice deceptively calm.
“A studded belt with a nice buckle, yeah. You should have heard him squealing. He was—”
Max hit him on the nose, hard.
He hadn’t been in a fight since school. He’d been nice and calm, no matter what happened. But the thought of this bastard beating his sub to a pulp short-circuited his brain.
The brawl ended pretty quickly, within sheer seconds. There was shouting, and they were forcibly separated by two security guys and some vigilante types, willing to intervene. A struggle was always exciting, whatever the club may be, as long as it wasn’t you who got beaten and then thrown out.
Gleb was pressing a napkin to his bleeding nose. Max had taken a punch too, but a grazing one, on a cheekbone. Vadim tried to reason with the security, but to no avail. Along with Max, he was politely but firmly led to the cloak room to gather their coats and then escorted up the stairs.
“They let him stay!” Max stared at the door that had closed behind them. He was boiling with indignation. “Why him and not us?”
“They just wanted to separate us,” Vadim said as he searched his pockets for the car keys. “He’ll get banned from the club, too. The owners are decent guys, they don’t want trouble in there. Come on, let’s go.”
“Decent,” Max huffed as he trudged after Vadim. “They shouldn’t have let him in at all!”
“Well, to be fair, I’ve never complained to them about him.” Vadim’s voice was even, but he opened the car door with some effort—were his hands shaking?
Max got in too, and they sat there, side by side, silent for a while.
“He’s still wearing my watch,” Vadim finally said. “How very funny, considering he’s against subs bribing their Doms.” At this, his voice faltered.
Max laid a hand upon his. Vadim’s fingers that had clutched convulsively into the fabric of his jeans seemed to relax a little if not completely. “What happened?”
“I wasn’t buying him, as he says. I wasn’t. I wanted to please him, that’s all. I thought he’d be glad to have it. It was a present. I had no intention of humiliating him or anything.” Vadim didn’t look up, his face pinched. “And I wasn’t buying you either. I just…” His breath broke into something similar to a sob.
“I know,” Max said quietly.
“I think he felt he should establish his authority, since I earned more than him, and he did it … in a very harsh manner sometimes. And the thing is, I get it. I didn’t want to provoke him, but I understand how it must have been for him. That’s why he liked to show off in public, to make me yield to him. Here, at the club. You saw a scene down there. Sometimes volunteers sort of play there, and we used to do it, too. A whipping—it was fine—I mean he could get me whining and begging, but it’s nothing we hadn’t done in private. But once, he said he wanted to perform sounding on me, and he was really excited about it. You know what sounding is? It’s inserting a sound—something like a steel rod—into the urethra. They call it cock-stuffing.”
“Had you ever done it before?”
Vadim shook his head. “No, but he said he knew what he was doing, and maybe he did… Yet I panicked, last minute, and told him I couldn’t do it. I safeworded out, in front of everyone. It was ego-bruising, as you might imagine, to be rejected like that, and in public. When we went home, I knew Gleb would punish me, and of course he did. He tied me up and started lashing me with a belt. At some point, I tried to safeword out, again. He wouldn’t listen. He was furious.”
Was it why he’d been so reluctant to tell me his safeword on our first day, Max thought. He’d had an apprehension that it wouldn’t work anyway.
“And then he told me to get out,” Vadim continued in a toneless voice. “Just to get out. Because no one wants such a lousy sub.” He suddenly let out a short laugh. “As I said, I have a history of bad break-ups.”
Max felt a lump in his throat. He couldn’t think of anything to say. On an impulse, he pulled Vadim close, a palm on his nape, an arm around his waist. Vadim made a strange sound, nearly a whine, and pressed closer to him. He wasn’t crying, but neither was he okay. For a while, Max stroked his hair and listened to his ragged breathing, unsure what he should do.
“And you know what,” Vadim finally muttered into his shoulder, voice croaky and strained, “the day we met, I was thinking that maybe I’d meet him in the club, like unintentionally, and say I was sorry. Yet I couldn’t find the courage.”
Max snorted. “Sorry? You, not him? What the hell for?”
“I disobeyed, didn’t I, and he thought I’d humiliated him. Yes, he’d lost it, he was too angry, but again, I know what he must have felt.”
“It’s no excuse, being angry,” Max said with terse conviction.
“Maybe I didn’t care,” Vadim retorted almost defiantly. “I couldn’t stand it, to be on my own.”
Was it what they called sub drop? Max had read about it. It was a state of depression that often occurred after a heavy scene or when a submissive was away from his dominant for a long time. Something related to chemistry, to the effects of release and drop of endorphin, oxytocin, and dopamine in the body after a play session, like a BDSM hangover.
“If you think it’s pathetic, that’s nothing new to me,” Vadim grumbled. “I know I’m a weakling.” His cheek was still closely pressed to Max’s coat like he was hesitant to look up. What was he afraid to see? Disdain? Or pity?
“You’re not.” Max tried to make his vo
ice calmer. He didn’t want to sound like he was telling Vadim off, not now. “I think it takes courage to trust someone, to give in to him completely, and hope he’ll respect your limits. Honestly, I do. This man, he betrayed your trust, as simple as that. You were at his mercy, and he had none. It’s he who was weak. He couldn’t control himself like a Dom should. It’s his responsibility to be in control. Whatever happens.” He thought of himself punching Gleb. Not an example of self-restraint either, come to think of it. Could it be a dangerous sign? Yet he wished he’d gotten in a few more blows. “I know you wanted to be perfect. But no one is, and a relationship is not about molding yourself to someone’s liking.” To his own ear, his speech seemed too mentor-like and distant, though he meant every word. Oh hell, how did you say obvious things without being trite? “I mean,” he struggled to articulate what he felt, “compromising is good, sometimes, but not when you force yourself to do what you don’t enjoy at all. It’s not only you who should compromise.”
Vadim didn’t say anything, but his hands were tightly clenched in the folds of Max’s coat.
After a while, Max said, “So we got banned from the club, huh?”
Vadim half-sighed, half-laughed into his shoulder. “Yeah. Probably.”
“I’m sorry.”
Vadim backed off a little to look at him, finally. “What for?”
“You got banned. Because of me.”
“’Twas worth it though.” Vadim suddenly shot a bright smile at him, and then leaned to kiss the bruise on his cheekbone. “Who else would have done that for me?”
Who else indeed?
“Now, ready to drive?” Max suggested.
Later, when they were home, lying in bed, Max stumbled upon words to put together what worried him the most. “Promise me one thing. If you feel someone’s using you—whenever, for whatever reasons—don’t just take it. Back off. Give yourself time to think. If you have any suspicions that it might not end well, it probably won’t.”
Vadim nuzzled against his shoulder. “Well, I’ve got you to protect me now.”
I hope you never need protection from me, Max thought. He wouldn’t abuse Vadim on purpose, but he felt he could do it out of ignorance, and that was hardly better. Being half-strangled and getting a terrible headache afterwards versus having your back flayed didn’t seem like a healthy alternative.
Max lay sleepless for a while listening to distant sounds of street cleaners at work, scraping and shoveling snow. It seemed they could dedicate themselves to this activity at all hours. Then tractors would come along, making beeping noises, to scoop up the snow and put it into a truck that would take it away. That was a curse of Moscow in winter time, hearing all that not only during the day but at night too, but at least the streets were mostly clear despite frequent snowfalls. Now these noises seemed a soothing rhythm that finally lulled Max to doze off. His soul was still heavy with dull anxiety, but he didn’t know what to do about it.
****
Vadim insisted on driving Max to the Sheremetyevo airport, which was probably a dubious decision. Max would have gotten there much faster by an Aeroexpress train, but Max didn’t have the guts to turn down Vadim’s offer. He still felt uneasy and somewhat guilty about leaving Vadim alone, especially after their failed trip to the SM club, though he’d made sure to make it up to him. He’d been keeping Vadim very preoccupied the last week. Had it been enough?
The journey was slow. Vadim’s car trudged its way through a traffic jam with grim determination, but it was mostly jerks and sudden stops, mesmerizingly chaotic moving patterns. Max had registered for the flight online in advance, and he didn’t have to drop off any luggage as he only had a duffel bag with him, so he wasn’t worried about being late yet, but the whole trip was getting on his nerves. An almost twenty-hour flight to Spokane with a stop-over in Los Angeles, and then a two-hour ride to his hometown in Idaho seemed like a surrealistic pilgrimage, something distant and unreal.
Vadim hadn’t reproached him, not even once, and assured him he’d be all right on his own, but Max had doubts. He was close to returning his ticket last minute, but his family was waiting for him, his sister had promised to meet him at the Spokane airport and give him a lift, and everyone would be so disappointed if he declared he’d suddenly changed his mind…
In Russia, the New Year holidays were enormously long. They lasted until after the Orthodox Christmas. What would Vadim do during all this time? He’d mentioned that maybe he would mingle with his fellow architects. It didn’t sound like much fun though, and anyway, he wouldn’t party with them every single day, would he?
Max had made a schedule to keep Vadim busy. Vadim would do lots of exercises, and report to Max on his progress afterwards. The entertainment program included activities of a sexual kind too, but the only time Vadim was allowed to come was while talking to Max, and only if Max approved. For this purpose, Vadim received his New Year present early. Max bought him a web cam so they could have nice long chats.
Would that keep Vadim satisfied?
Last night, Vadim had insisted Max mark him with a switch. Just a couple of welts—he practically begged for it. He’d struggled over words, mortified to admit how much he needed a reminder, a sign. “That I’m still yours, even while you’re away,” he’d muttered weakly in the end, eyes down.
“Of course you are.” Max had touched his cheek, and this caress had been a prelude to a much harsher expression of affection and ownership.
Now Max wondered if Vadim didn’t find it too uncomfortable sitting in his car for so long, the fresh, raised welts itching relentlessly. But maybe to Vadim, they were not a nuisance but a promise of commitment.
They made their slow progress along the highway, and the nearer they got to the airport and to the inevitability of him going away, the more Max wanted to do something reckless, like get rid of his tickets—and to hell with all the plans. But in the end, he didn’t act on it.
****
Being in his hometown again after a year of absence felt strange because nothing had really changed. It was as if he’d spent twelve months in an enchanted realm only to return on the same day he’d left, to where he’d started.
It wasn’t as if nothing had happened in the meantime of course, but Max caught the same expression on the faces of his parents, his mom and dad looking at him expectantly. He knew what they must be thinking. Hadn’t he changed his mind? Wasn’t he planning to come back home and find real work? You’re not a kid anymore, Max. It’s time to settle down.
He wanted to tell them, “You know what, I’m settled, at least for now.” But from years of experience, he knew it was best not to argue.
Max mingled with his former mates, some of them married, some still single, and he did have fun, but every day he looked forward to a web chat with his Russian sub. He wanted to see if the welts on his buttocks were still prominently pink. Vadim would gladly adjust the cam so Max could have a good look at his private parts. Max wanted Vadim to tell him in detail what he’d been doing, when he’d been eating, how many push-ups he’d managed, how sore he was from different exercises. He wanted to give Vadim instructions for tomorrow, something embarrassingly kinky like having to wear a butt plug at work. Sometimes, when Vadim confessed he’d broken one of the orders, a self-applied punishment was due, monitored by the webcam.
Today Max had changed his schedule. He called during the day because it was a special day, New Year’s Eve. It was almost midnight in Moscow by now. Vadim had told him he’d be at home waiting for his call, and Max had mixed feelings about it. He was glad they would sort of celebrate together, but at the same time, he’d rather Vadim spend time with friends or family.
Vadim was already waiting for him online when Max logged in.
“Hey, how’s my devoted cyber slave feeling?” Max teased him. “Ready to have a deranged New Year with me?”
On the screen, Vadim smiled at him dazzlingly. From what Max could see, he was at least half-naked. Even with the poor quality p
ixilation of the webcam, that was a stunning sight.
During their previous sessions, Max had forced Vadim into speaking to him or typing online in various demanding positions, like squatting naked, so that his balls hung between his thighs, and that had certainly been a turn-on for both of them, but now Max wanted his sub relaxed and at ease.
“I’d like to see your lower parts, too,” he said.
Vadim adjusted the cam. Down there, he was also naked, and most eager for whatever Max demanded next.
“You’re gorgeous,” Max breathed out, feeling overdressed in his t-shirt and jeans. He should at least undo the zipper. The door of his room was locked. No one would interrupt. “Now, turn the cam so that I can see all of you.”
It was a few minutes before midnight in Russia. They both poured champagne—Max had secretly brought a bottle into his room—and touched the screens with their glasses.
“First, let’s drink to the year that’s passing,” Vadim said. “It has been a good one, at least its second half.”
Max couldn’t help but agree. Then they talked some more, anticipation growing, and finally both counted the seconds until midnight and drank to the New Year.
Vadim leaned his head against the back rest of the armchair, the muscles in his slender neck stretched taut.
“Now, isn’t it time for another New Year present?” Max inquired softly. “A present for you and for me both. Spread your legs. Good.” For a moment, he contemplated the slim body laid out for him as an offer, then ordered, “Touch yourself.”
Vadim complied hastily, his erection neglected for too long. He looked directly at the webcam as he started stroking himself, slowly at first, as if unsure he would be allowed to continue.
Max palmed his groin, too. His cock twitched and hardened under the touch. “Don’t come until I tell you,” he warned and was gratified with a frustrated moan. Max spit in his right hand and slid it down the length of his cock. Vadim watched him intently, but Max’s webcam was too close for his sub to see anything below his shoulders. That made Max feel more in control. Vadim was spread in front of him, vulnerable and compliant, while he took his enjoyment invisibly.
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