by Jay Lygon
Ophir nodded. “Perhaps not. After that, I kept tabs on you, hoping you’d decide to come back. I still thought, perhaps, that you might be happy here.”
It made me blush a little to know he’d been that concerned about me. “I probably would have been.”
“But Hector found you first. I think I was relieved. I wasn’t sure I had the ability to help you, but I knew he did.”
My throat was suddenly dry at the mention of Hector’s name.
“Hector is a remarkable man. A wonderful Master. But, like all people, he isn’t perfect. His jealous rages eventually made me leave him, despite what he might have told you,” Ophir said.
“He said that you wanted to explore your top side.”
Ophir laughed. “He would say that, but he has the timeline backwards. I should call him and remind him how it really happened. As I said, he’s a wonderful Master, so good that I switched to a topman because I finally realized I’d never find another Master who measured up. But I left him because I couldn’t take the suspicion and rages anymore. I assume that’s why you finally left.”
“You didn’t hear what happened?” I’d been so focused on that humiliating scene that I assumed everyone knew about it.
“Hector won’t talk about you. Not even to me. I found out you’d left him almost by accident.”
“So he hates me.” If he thought I’d been cheating on him, I guess that was to be expected.
“Hate?” Ophir seemed confused by the word. “No, Sam,” he said softly.
A tear welled up at the corner of my eye. “I know I asked if I could come over to talk, but I don’t think I can.”
“It’s too soon. I understand. But let me ask you this. Do you hate him?”
“He humiliated me in front of a crowd of people.”
“But do you hate him?”
I looked around the kitchen. “Hector always said I only submitted when I felt like it. Maybe I should have tried harder.”
“You would have bored him. There are worlds of difference between what we fantasize about and what we can live with day in and out. He had boys who gave him them their will. Within a month, he’d moved on. I put up a fight every time, as did you, and look at who among his boys he loves still.”
Our conversation kept dead-ending into painful places. I scratched my arm as I gazed out the bay window at the garden. My foot tapped on the kitchen floor. “How did you find out I left him?”
Ophir slid his fingers up the thin stem of his wine glass. “Number One saw him in the market. His cart was filled with cans of ravioli.”
***
Except for Hector, I hadn’t had a roommate since college, so I wasn’t used to sharing my living space with a guy I wasn’t sleeping with. That’s why I wasn’t sure what to do when Brett plopped down next to me on the couch and asked me if it would bother me if he turned on the TV. I was reading, but I shrugged. It was his place. But when he started the movie and it was porn, I got uneasy. I hoped he didn’t start touching me again.
Brett laughed at my expression. “I never figured you for a prude, Sam.”
That didn’t even merit a reply.
I sort of watched the porn, because it had been a while since I’d been turned on, but the guys were all waxed and buff and too young for my taste. I caught myself looking at the set design. Brett, though, he was really getting into it. He shoved down the waistband of his shorts and started jerking off. Was I uptight, or was that kind of gross? Even worse, he kept glancing over to see if I was watching him. Of course I looked. Who wouldn’t? He wasn’t completely hard. Maybe the porn wasn’t doing it for him, either.
My mind wandered. Should I leave? Would he be pissed off if I did? Did I care if he was? Did we have to share that much as roommates? As I thought about that, I realized that Hector’s brand was heated up on my ass. Oops. I wasn’t allowed to watch porn. But wait. He wasn’t my Master anymore. He couldn’t punish me for watching it even if he caught me. But wait again. If he wasn’t my Master anymore, why the hell was he summoning me? What the hell did Hector think he was doing?
Brett paused mid-stroke. “You’re so goddamn twitchy.”
Furious at Hector, I told Brett, “I have to make a phone call.”
“All of a sudden?”
“Yep.”
Brett muttered something and shoved his dick back into his shorts.
I headed for my room. Only I didn’t call. I phased over to Hector’s.
***
Hector was sitting in his poppa chair. It looked as if he hadn’t shaved for a couple days. Under the bristly beard, his skin was dull and puffy. He held a high ball glass. From the droop of his eyes, it had been filled a few times. His collar sat on his knee. The house smelled wrong, like sickness.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Hector?”
“Don’t you use that tone of voice with me, Boy.”
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t cool to shout at him in his house. I tried to get my temper under control. It wasn’t easy seeing him. His pallor worried me. I never wanted to talk to him again.
The brand on my butt heated up again. “Knock it off.”
“I’ve been more than patient with you, but it’s time for this temper tantrum to end, Boy.”
He didn’t get it. I’d been gone almost three weeks, and he thought I was off sulking that entire time. He just didn’t get it. It was my chance to make it all go away. I could come back to him. I could plead guilty to sulking and take my punishment and all of that horrible nothingness in the pit of my stomach would go away. But then he would think it was okay to humiliate me like that. I just couldn’t take it.
“Hector, listen to me. Look at that collar in your hand. I’m pretty sure you know what it means when a slave removes his Master’s collar. I’m not coming back.”
Instead of erupting in anger like I expected, he smiled at me as if I were a dimwitted child. “I understand that you got upset and wanted to make a point, but it’s time to stop fooling around.” He’d given up on angry Master and was trying his stern Papi voice on me.
“I’m not playing.” I exhaled slowly as I tried to keep the tremble out of my voice. “And I think that’s all I plan on saying, so I’ll be going.”
His smile faded. “Now, Sam--”
I held up my hand. “This isn’t a discussion.”
Something finally got through to him. I could see it cutting through the whisky fogbank in his brain. He winced, as if it hurt to finally see what he’d been denying since I left.
He rose carefully and turned his sexy smile on me as he reached out. “Come on, Baby. Don’t be like that.”
What? He was going to try to seduce me? Oh sure, I always fell for it before, but that was before. I smacked his hand away and stepped back.
“Don’t fucking touch me. And don’t summon me again. I won’t answer.”
He still thought he was humoring me. “Sam, you don’t mean that.”
I did.
He shook his head slowly. “No.” His lips trembled.
I could barely look at him.
“Honey, I never hit you,” he whispered. “I’m working on the rest. You know I am. You have to give me credit for that.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. I was going to crumble, but I couldn’t.
“Baby?” A fat tear slid down his cheek as his hands reached for me, begged me, fell short of touching me.
“Maybe you never hit me, Hector, but you never trusted me, either.”
Maybe it was cowardly of me to hurt him like that and leave, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I phased back to my bedroom at Brett’s and sank onto the floor with my back against the wall. I crossed my arms over my knees and rested my head on them.
The God of Misery jumped off the bed and crawled into my lap.
Chapter 10
After screening a film in Culver City, I decided to fool around a bit before I went back to Brett’s place. There were too many hours in a day, and I no longer had chores to fill them.
Nothing seemed interesting until I wandered into a farmer’s market. Next thing I knew, I had bags of produce clutched in both hands and visions of a great dinner dancing in my head. Then I remembered I couldn’t carry all those bags on my motorcycle.
Sometimes, being a God rocked. I phased the stuff to the kitchen, then rode back to Long Beach.
Brett came home to a cooking frenzy. I had every burner on the stovetop going. The kitchen was a grand mess. He set the mail down and checked out all the dishes lined up on the countertop that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Sam, it’ll take us a week to eat all this!”
I peered into the oven. “Not to worry. I invited Angelena and Deal over. We always have dinner on Wednesdays, at least we try to.” Then it dawned on me that maybe I shouldn’t have done that. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to having a roommate. I should have asked you first. Is it okay if they come over?”
Brett’s nose crinkled. “I’m not your goddamn master, Sam. You don’t have to beg me for anything. If you want friends over, invite them over. This is your home, too.”
Wiping my hands on the towel tucked into the waistband of my jeans, I turned to face him. “I always seem to be breaking some unwritten law. You’re always pissed off at me about something. So I wanted to be sure.”
“Quit asking my permission every time you want to do something. You’re not a slave boy anymore.”
“Are you going to join us for dinner?”
Brett came into the kitchen and bent down in front of the stainless steel oven. “Is that pot roast?” He closed his eyes and inhaled. “I’m in.”
***
Brett’s mood improved even more when Alberto showed up with Deal and Angelena. My mood went in the opposite direction. It felt as if everywhere I turned, Alberto was there. The way he invited himself over bothered me. He never asked.
Angelena kissed my cheek and murmured something about me looking great. Even Deal was gentle.
After Brett’s speech about how I wasn’t anyone’s slave boy, it sort of cracked me up that he planted himself in the chair next to Alberto and let me bring everything to the table. I guessed I should have been grateful that Alberto came. He saved it from being a somber evening. It was as if he was oblivious to how subdued everyone else was, but no one had the heart to quench his spirit even when it made the rest of us a little uncomfortable.
“This reminds me of my mother’s cooking, Sam. She loves to feed everyone,” Alberto said.
“It’s something to do,” I told him.
“Great pot roast, Sam.” Angelena took a bite.
Alberto’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned over the table and gazed at Deal. “Do you know what Sam said about you when we first met? He said you were frightening!” He clapped, as if he’d said something very clever.
Thanks the Gods, Deal smiled. She slowly put down her drink. “Am I?”
“Maybe, but in a very sexy way.”
Brett snorted.
“I like blondes. So cool. So aloof. But underneath?” Alberto wriggled his eyebrows. “Passion!”
I could feel the undercurrent of sex between them. Even though she was, as he said, cool and aloof on the surface, he definitely had her attention. I didn’t blame her. As annoying as he was, Alberto was a hot little number. The problem was that he knew it.
“Sometimes, underneath is solid ice,” Deal said. Then she turned her attention to Angelena and ignored Alberto.
He tried so hard to get her to respond to him, but she shut him out. It was at odds with the signals I caught. It took me a while to register what she was doing. Like a Master, she was putting Alberto in his place.
Pouting, Alberto turned his attention to Brett. Brett, of course, ate it up. Poor guy. He had no clue what was really going on. The more Deal ignored Alberto, the more outrageously Alberto flirted with Brett.
Angelena and I exchanged amused, resigned glances over the table while we ate in silence.
“Sam has another date with Harris Smith,” Alberto said. “My plan to make him famous is working.”
That remark went right over the head of the only human at the table. Only the Gods understood what he meant.
“Alberto, I’ve told you, I have no interest in fame.” I scowled at him, but he laughed it off.
“You say that now, but you’ll thank me.”
“Wait, how can you make Sam famous?” Brett asked.
Alberto mimicked taking pictures.
“I don’t understand how that will make him famous.”
“His picture will appear everywhere. People will ask, ‘Who is that sexy man?’ The buzz will grow, and more magazines will demand pictures of him. He’ll be famous for being famous.”
“Whether I want it or not,” I grumbled. “I don’t like having my picture taken.”
“If you’re out in public, you’re fair game,” Alberto said. He still grinned, but there was a warning in his words.
“While I’m all for fame, and how it can be wielded as a weapon in this town, I don’t think it’s right to force Sam into the spotlight if he doesn’t want it,” Deal said.
“Thank you, Deal.” It always surprised me when she defended me.
Alberto drew himself up and got cocky. “No one can stop me from doing what I do best.”
Deal pursed her lips. “Someone should spank your ass, boy. Hard.”
He grinned at her. The sex vibe jumped into high gear. “Would you? Would you put me over your lap and spank this naughty boy?” He stood up and wriggled his fine butt. The sassy expression on his face just begged to be smacked away.
“Oh geez, not another one!” Brett said. “Isn’t anyone into normal sex anymore?”
“Speaking of which,” Angelena said quietly. She nodded toward my bedroom. I was confused when she rose and even more confused when she and Deal exchanged a look that could only be described as terse agreement.
I followed her to my bedroom.
Angelena shut the door. She looked a little nervous. When a motorcycle cop suddenly couldn’t look me in the eye, my curiosity pegged on high.
“Sam.” Her smile came and went quickly. It seemed as if she was about to say something, but she smiled again. “Sam, I know it’s bad manners for one God to interfere with another God.”
More than bad manners, I’d say.
Her hands rubbed together. “I don’t know if you know this, but I met an emergency room nurse. We’ve been dating for a couple weeks now.”
“That’s great!”
“Sheila is wonderful. But you see.” She sighed. “How shall I put this? When the God of Sex shuts down, it sort of kills it for everyone else. Normally, I wouldn’t think of saying anything to you, but it’s been three weeks, and we sort of want to…” Angelena huffed. “Damn it, Sam. Jerk off or something. Please. If not for yourself, do it for the rest of the world. Do it for me. I’m begging you. Prime the sex pump and get it flowing again, before I go insane. Okay?”
Understanding dawned. “Oh.”
“Oh, he says. Oh. Haven’t you been paying attention to the pleading prayers winging to you?”
“Sort of. Not really. I’ve been preoccupied.”
She put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry about that, Sam. I really am. And like I said, normally, I wouldn’t interfere, but someone had to say something to you.”
I nodded. “Sorry. Hector--” I gulped. “He always said I was selfish.”
Angelena harrumphed. “Hector is a moron.”
“He is not.”
“Okay. Sometimes Hector is a moron. And he isn’t always right. But in this case, maybe you should pay attention to what’s going on in the world around you.”
I nodded.
She squeezed my shoulder. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, I hate to be pushy, but I’m seeing Shelia when she gets off her shift tonight. Deal and I will take care of the dinner dishes.” She shoved something into my hand. “You have divine business to attend to.”
I looked down at what she�
��d given me. For the first time since I’d left Hector, I laughed. Gods, I adored Angelena. Only she would have the guts to give me marching orders, and a bottle of lube to help me carry them out.
***
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to get off. Every time I got going, I visualized Hector, and I had to stop. I tried to envision an orgy. Been there, done that, wasn’t really my scene. How about Ophir? No. I respected him, but we’d gone past the point where we’d ever make good lovers. I sighed. Maybe a dungeon scene with a Master who wore a mask? My cock started to harden a little.
