The Edge

by SJD Peterson

  Nash laid his head back and closed his eyes. Surprisingly, rather than Joshua’s face in his mind’s eye, it was Kirk’s face, and his voice whispered, “He may not have any limits, but he’ll push you to yours.”

  Nash’s eyes flew open, and he jerked upright as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

  The perfect posture.

  The ease with which safewords slipped from a tongue.

  Brooding.

  Anger.

  Tears.

  Joshua was manipulating him. Nash knew it as sure as he was sitting here. He’d allowed his pride to cloud his better judgment. He’d thought himself better than everyone else who had dealt with Joshua. He wasn’t. Joshua was a pain slut, had been for years. Nash wasn’t dealing with that fact, but ignoring it. How many days had Nash denied Joshua what he craved?

  Only now was it dawning on Nash that the days he’d denied Joshua were the most difficult days to read, to understand his boy. It had been after a period of time without punishment that Joshua had confided in Nash about the self-mutilation. To further Nash’s outrage at himself, Malcolm’s question popped into Nash’s head. “Are you sure you don’t feel sorry for him?”

  Nash leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. This was his fault. He did feel sorry for Joshua. He was allowing his boy’s past to guide his hand rather than being what Joshua needed in the here and now. He was ignoring the glaring signs of manipulation. Joshua had used Nash’s love, pity, and pride against him.

  “How could I have been so foolish?” he muttered.

  After long moments of wallowing in self-pity and mentally kicking himself in the ass, Nash lifted his head, a new resolve settling within him. He refused to let Joshua manipulate him a minute longer. In allowing such behavior, he was letting Joshua down. It wasn’t only Cedric’s job to help Joshua once a week, but Nash’s job to do it every single day.

  Nash pushed to his feet and headed to his office. He needed pen and paper, needed lists, a plan. The first thing was to take Malcolm’s advice and set up a lunch date between Joshua and Denny. Joshua needed a peer, someone he could confide in until Nash earned the right to be Joshua’s confidant. Nash wasn’t sure about his next step, other than he had to be consistent and strict with Joshua, yet loving and thoughtful in his daily routine with his boy. And Joshua was his boy. Nash only had to work harder to deserve that privilege.

  JOSHUA WAS surprised at how draining writing his thoughts could be. He was tired in his head, in his heart, in his very soul. He slid the notebook between the mattress and box spring, then stretched out on the bed and buried himself in his pillow and blankets. The questions and doubt assaulted him until he wanted to scream.

  He knew Nash was waiting, would be getting hungry. Joshua should be pulling his sorry ass up out of bed and preparing dinner, but he couldn’t. Not yet. He could only lie there, paralyzed by the self-loathing, as the questions he’d been trying to answer became accusations.

  The whole concept of being the one in the position of power wasn’t sitting well with him. Logically, he understood how the whole Dominant/submissive relationship worked. He was a submissive but also a grown man and, as such, consented to the whims of his Dominant.

  Whims? Is that the appropriate term to use?

  Joshua considered it briefly and then just as quickly let it go. It didn’t matter what term he used for what Dominants did or how they behaved. The important thing was that he accepted being on the receiving end of it. Again, the notion of being in control caused him to cringe. He shifted and buried himself farther beneath his covers. If only he could hide from himself and the world as easily. Hell, at the moment, he’d settle for being able to turn his brain off for a while. But of course he didn’t know where the off switch was located, so the conversation with Dr. Hobson replayed in his head until he wondered at what point in his life said power became his.

  It certainly wasn’t when his mother chose to stick a needle in her arm rather than take care of him. Nor was it when he was passed around from one foster home to another. He’d have loved to have been adopted into a true home of his own. That never happened; instead, he wound up on the streets, selling his ass for a meal and a bed. That wasn’t power either, but desperation. Even during his first experience in the lifestyle, he hadn’t been the one with the power. Sure, he had chosen to walk in the club, climb onto the stage, and allow someone to hit him. However, it had been his love of the adrenaline rush that had propelled him up those stairs. The rush had been in control, not him. Christ, he was no better than his mother. He just had a different drug of choice. Even now, he had to wonder if his need for pain was the true driving force behind his actions. Had he truly ever had any power?

  Nash, on the other hand, definitely seemed in control of his life and his surroundings. He had all the things Joshua had hoped for when he was young—a nice house, a good job, friends, and respect. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to allow someone like Nash to be the boss. Joshua considered it. The longer he thought about it, the more conflicted he became. Twenty-five years of failure wasn’t a great track record, but if he gave all the power to Nash, then he’d have to deal with unwanted memories. He could do worse than having Nash as his Dom and calling all the shots, a lot worse. And still he hesitated. Reliving nightmares of what happened when a Dom had all the power could destroy him. It nearly had.

  Chapter Four

  LEANING AGAINST the doorjamb to the dining room, Nash watched Joshua carefully as he moved in and out of the kitchen while preparing dinner. He looked thoughtful, but Nash didn’t see any signs of true distress. He’d asked his boy how he was when he’d first come out of his room, only to once again get “Fine.” Nash’s frustration had gotten the better of him, and he’d snapped. The word was no longer allowed to pass Joshua’s lips. In fact, Joshua wasn’t allowed to speak unless Nash asked him a direct question. Nash was done being soft on his boy. They would work this out one way or another. They were going to get back on a schedule, and new rules would be set, ones that Joshua would follow or face correction. Nash was done walking on eggshells and second-guessing himself. It wasn’t what either of them needed. They needed strict and clear-cut rules, discipline, and consistency. Without those things, neither of them would ever be truly settled or happy.

  Joshua appeared with two glasses of ice water, silverware, and napkins, which he set on the table. Nash took note of Joshua’s breathing. It was deep and even. There were no outward indicators of distress or unease. Nash knew not to rely too heavily on this. Joshua was a complicated person and being such, there was no telling what was going on in his mind. It changed from moment to moment. Hell, from second to second. Nash had to be content in his own determination and plans going forward.

  “Dinner is ready, Sir,” Joshua said before he disappeared into the kitchen.

  Nash pushed off the wall and made it to the table before Joshua reemerged with a plate of baked cheese ravioli in a spicy-smelling red sauce that he set in front of Nash, along with a crusty garlic bread. He slipped back into the kitchen and returned with a plate for himself, which he set down at his place. He sat opposite Nash, laid a napkin on his lap, then sat up straight, eyes respectfully lowered and waited.

  Nash picked up his fork and used it to cut the tender stuffed pasta. A delicious scent wafted upward, and Nash’s stomach growled in response. He brought his fork to his mouth, took a bite, and practically moaned at the wonderful flavor. It tasted even better than it smelled. “This is very good, boy.”

  Joshua smiled broadly and picked up his fork. “Thank you.” Joshua jerked his head up, eyes going wide and snapped his mouth shut. He just as quickly lowered his gaze then sighed. “That wasn’t a question. I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “It will take some getting used to. Two strokes. The first for announcing dinner.” Nash kept his voice calm and matter-of-fact. He took another bite of pasta, leisurely enjoying his meal before continuing. “After dinner you are to clear the table and do the dishes. Once the k
itchen is clean, my bedding is to be changed and the bedroom dusted. In the morning, you will wake me as usual and then make breakfast. You will have your morning discipline, then perform your routine chores. Through all of this, you will speak only when I say you may. Questions?” He picked up his water glass and waited, eyes on Joshua.

  Joshua paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yes, Sir. I’m not sure how well I’m going to do. I mean, after I clean your room, what then? I normally ask you what you want me to do next. I won’t know whether I return to my room or stay near you? What if I think you may need something? Should I just ignore it, not worry about it? How am I supposed to take care of your needs if I can’t ask what they are?” Joshua huffed out a heavy breath. “I’m not very good at guessing. I need direction.”

  Nash sipped his water for a moment as he considered each of Joshua’s concerns and questions then nodded. “I know this is going to be difficult for you, but I’m also confident you can do it. That being said, don’t anticipate me, simply watch, wait, and respond when I speak. Other than your regular chores, you don’t have to think about anything. You only have to be. You are to kneel next to me unless I give you other instructions. If you need to use the bathroom, go. If you are cold, uncomfortable, or in distress, by all means, speak. If you are unsure of anything, ask. What you can’t do is question my orders. If you can’t do something for any reason, you are to say yellow and we’ll discuss it.” Nash ate some more ravioli before going on. “I want to start my day with you kneeling next to my bed with coffee waiting. I like seeing your face and a steaming mug when I open my eyes. Any other questions?”

  Joshua barely hid his smile and answered simply, “No, Sir.”

  “Wonderful. Now, I’m going to finish this.” He pointed his fork toward the pasta, smiled, and stabbed another ravioli. “Because seriously, this is really good, boy.”

  Joshua said nothing in response this time but silently finished his meal. Knowing they wouldn’t be going to the playroom later, he ate well. Usually, he ate lightly when he thought they were going to play. Joshua’s excitement had a way of suppressing his appetite. He took another sip of his water and then stood. He moved slowly to Nash’s side and knelt beside the chair. With one hand Nash gently stroked Joshua’s hair; other than that, he ignored Joshua until he’d finished his meal.

  He swallowed the last of his water, wiped is mouth on his napkin then dropped it on his empty plate before going to his feet. “Thank you, boy. I will see you in my office once you’ve finished cleaning up.” Without looking back, Nash left the dining room. Once seated at his desk, he opened the files he was planning to review and stared at them, a slow smile crossing his face. It felt good. Right. He was half-hard from just doing what he needed, and he actually felt himself let go of a lot of his fears about pushing Joshua too hard. Nash set about doing his paperwork, but it was difficult to concentrate on work. Instead, he focused on the distant clattering of dishes and running water as Joshua moved around the kitchen. Before long the house went quiet again. Joshua appeared in the office a few minutes later with freshly brewed coffee. He set the streaming mug down on Nash’s desk then wordlessly went to his knees next to Nash’s chair.

  Nash acknowledged Joshua with a soft touch to his hair. With Joshua near, Nash was able to turn is attention to his work. With the paperwork finished, he sat back in his chair and sipped the coffee.

  “Thank you, boy,” he said, once more stroking Joshua’s hair. “Please go get showered. When you’re done, we’ll deal with your punishment and talk for a little while.”

  Joshua started to rise, then hesitated. “I’m sorry, Sir. I have a question.”

  “Ask,” Nash ordered, curious.

  “I… well, I don’t want to ruin the ring in the shower, Sir. Would you prefer me to remove it?”

  Nash grinned. “Good boy. Thank you for thinking about my property.” He motioned for Joshua to stand. Nash removed the ring, taking a few moments to play with Joshua’s cock. “Very nice. I’m aware that it’s even nicer when it’s warm, hard, and lathered up.” He stroked Joshua again and cupped the heavy balls. “It’s also mine and as such you are allowed to wash it but that is it. In fact, you’re not to jerk off unless I give you permission to do so.”

  “Y… yes, Sir,” Joshua answered with a stutter, sounding a bit unsure of his answer. Yet, Nash had no doubt Joshua would follow Nash’s order.

  “Good. Except it wasn’t a question, so that’s another stroke. Now go shower.”

  Color flared in Joshua’s cheeks and annoyed expression on his face. “Wait, I have another question,” Joshua snapped. He caught himself quickly, lowered his eyes, and adjusted his tone to one that was more respectful before he continued. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’m confused and need clarification.”

  Nash didn’t call Joshua for snapping, giving him credit for reining it in quickly. “Ask.”

  “It feels weird not recognize your orders verbally. Don’t you want me to acknowledge them at all?” He sounded frustrated.

  Nash leaned back in his chair and considered it for a moment. “When I give an order, it is enough that you merely do it. Accepting my will is a huge part of what I need from you. You are only to speak when I ask you a direct question or want verbal acknowledgment. I trust you’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable with an order and I don’t mean that kind of discomfort that comes from being pushed or stepping outside your comfort zone, but the type you feel could damage you mentally, emotionally, or physically, you are free to refuse.” He smiled softly. “You may not be feeling confident right now, but I am. I know you can do this and be what I need. Questions?”

  Joshua seemed to relax with Nash’s explanation. “No, Sir,” Joshua answered, sounding a bit more sure. His boy really did need a lot of direction.

  “Okay. Go take your shower.”

  Joshua left, his steps sounding lightly as he moved down the hall. Nash smiled as he fingered the cock ring and went to his room to fetch the crop. There was a bite to the anticipation, a joy that had been lacking until now. He turned the crop over and over, felt the weight against his palm, and smiled again. He’d lost the thrill of this somewhere along the way, but it was back. Thank God and he was going to enjoy the fuck out of his time with Joshua tonight.

  When Joshua finally reappeared from his shower, he looked more relaxed and smelled of soap and shaving cream. He stopped in the doorway, and his gaze lingered on the crop.

  “Hands against the wall, ass out,” Nash ordered.

  Joshua settled into position, a flush of color blooming out over his skin.

  “Three strokes,” Nash moved to stand behind Joshua and took a moment to admire his boy, appreciating the lines of his body and the curve of his ass, so nicely offered up. He felt a tightening in his groin. “Three strokes.” He took a deep breath. “Ready?”

  Joshua nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  Nash struck. The first blow landed hard, the line it raised immediate. Joshua gasped with the sting of it and seemed to hold his breath. Nash hesitated. His gaze settled on the network of white scars that stood out in stark contrast to the blooming red line. So much abuse. Such unnecessary pain. Nash’s gut roiled, bile threatened, but he swallowed it down. He wasn’t doing this out of some sick need to hurt, terrorize, and damage. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a moment. This is about us. What we need. What we want. Nash opened his eyes and in quick succession, he laid a second, then third stroke, just above the first. Joshua let his air out in a rush.

  “Good boy,” Nash praised.

  Joshua remained dutifully silent.

  Nash studied the red welts carefully. Satisfied he hadn’t broken skin, he stepped back and set the crop down on the dresser. He retrieved the cock ring, his own shaft surprisingly extremely hard. If he didn’t get himself under control, Joshua wouldn’t be the only one needing a ring. Nash smiled. The night was going pleasingly well, and it felt amazing to be moving them forward in a positive and oh so sexy manner. “Turn and displ
ay, boy,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed as Joshua turned to face him. Joshua put his arms behind his back and his shoulders squared nicely.

  “How do you feel?” Nash asked. He ran his finger gently down the length of Joshua’s hard cock.

  “Good, Sir,” Joshua said. “Focused, calm.”

  “Good. Tomorrow will be hard. I want you to know that I understand that. Also, this isn’t something I’m doing lightly. We both have needs, and I have a duty to make sure they are fulfilled. I promised I would help you find your limits and work through them. I can’t promise to make it a pleasant journey, however. I want you to spend some time tonight preparing yourself for it. Do you have any questions at the moment?”

  Joshua only asked one question. “Do you need anything before you turn in, Sir?”

  “No. Thank you for asking.” Nash stood up and secured Joshua’s cock into the ring. “You’ll be sleeping in your room.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Joshua’s shoulders slumped, and there was disappointment in his tone.

  “You did well today, boy,” Nash said softly. Then he tipped Joshua’s head up by his chin and kissed him gently, sucking on his lower lip for a brief moment before pulling away. “Keep it up, and you’ll earn a place in my bed in no time.”

  Joshua opened his mouth, presumably to respond to the praise, but bit down on his lip instead and walked to the door.

  Nash had to clamp down on the urge to call Joshua back after seeing his boy’s reaction to being sent to his room. He had to stay strong, not only for himself but for Joshua as well. He undressed and got ready for bed. He made sure the alarm was set, though he hoped he wouldn’t need it, and then he turned out the lights in the hall and in the room. He disliked the empty spot next to him in bed, and he had to remind himself that there was a damn good reason for it. With a sigh, he rolled over and waited for sleep to overtake him.