by SM Johnson
It reminded me of being made to stand in the corner with my hands in my back pockets as a child, a punishment I endured regularly for chewing my fingernails to the quick.
I felt like I shouldn’t stare at Tristan’s predicament, but I couldn’t help myself. This was the same person as the animated, talkative tour guide from just a little while ago, with the sparkling eyes and quick laughter.
The memory of standing in a corner, helplessly obedient, twisted my insides, but in a way that was nothing like the actual memory.
I stared when Doc squatted and did something near Tristan’s feet, and when he stood up again, I tried to decipher what I was seeing. It looked like there was an object between Tristan’s ankles that kept his legs wider apart than could be comfortable. “What is that?” I whispered to Avery.
“It’s called a spreader bar. Do you want me to explain more than that?”
I didn’t. Doc was searching for something in a duffel bag and I didn’t want to miss whatever was going to happen next.
“Let’s go sit at the edge of the mats, so you can get a better view.”
I whipped my head toward Avery, mortified that he seemed to understand. “Really? Is that, uh, polite?”
“Julian.” His voice was gentle. “People go to the mats because they want others to watch. They get off on it.”
“But what if Doc gets off on it, and Tristan is just embarrassed?”
“Oh, he wants to be watched. Tristan is an exhibitionist and a brat. He’s been mouthing off and enticing Doc to punish him on the mats every week.”
I thought about it. I really did want to watch from closer, but I felt like Tristan and I might get to be friends. I had a full-body shiver then, and I wasn’t sure if it was the idea of having a friend, or the idea of watching that friend be punished. Or maybe it was both of those things at the same time.
Whatever Doc had been searching for in the bag, he found it. It was a very small something that he hid in one palm, and that helped me decide. “Yes, please, let’s move,” I told Avery.
He excused us from the table, took me by the hand, and led me right onto the mats. I had a moment of panic, but then he sat down with his back to the post opposite Tristan. He spread his knees apart and patted the mat between them, so I sat down there. Avery adjusted me until my back was firmly against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, and that feeling in my stomach turned into a warm liquid vibration.
We were close enough that I could see the blush on the back of Tristan’s neck, and the individual hairs on his legs. I felt like maybe we shouldn’t be allowed this close, but reminded myself to trust Avery. He was a member, after all, and surely he knew the rules.
Doc was spreading Tristan’s butt cheeks apart, and again, I felt like I shouldn’t be seeing any of this, especially not Tristan’s ass, his hole, his ball-sac hanging between his legs.
“Doc’s going to open him and put something in there,” Avery whispered into my ear, and an electric jolt went down my spine. My cock was suddenly cramped in my jeans, and I was shaking in Avery’s arms, the scent of him surrounding me.
“Feels dirty, doesn’t it? And you love it.”
There was a pressure in my chest and my throat, a whimper that wanted to escape, but I choked it back, riveted at the sight of Doc pushing a small object into Tristan’s anus. And then I remembered Tristan was holding a piece of paper against the post with the tip of his nose, and that he probably didn’t dare move one single muscle. That made the pressure in my throat worse, and I couldn’t hold it back, not entirely. The sound that came out of me was a faint but desperate moan.
“Don’t stress, Jules. I have a plug like that one. You can wear it to work tomorrow.”
I tilted my head toward his ear and said, softly, “Stop, or I’ll come in my pants.”
A quiet chuckle. “I wouldn’t mind that at all, Jules. Feeling you come with my arms around you might be as lovely as watching. But I do love watching.” His knuckles brushed across the erection hidden uncomfortably in my jeans, and my hips moved without my volition, pressing hard against his hand.
“What if I told you to unbutton and unzip, and to play with yourself while we watch Doc and Tristan?”
All my thoughts and emotions stuttered to a halt. I froze in Avery’s arms, as the sound of blood rushing in my ears overtook all my senses.
Avery rocked me. “Shh, don’t panic. I’m not going to tell you to do that.”
I relaxed the tiniest bit, and the rushing noise receded. “I would probably do it,” I murmured. “But you said you don’t do public displays.”
“I don’t. You’d be the one on display. I was trying to gauge how you might feel about that.”
“Shocked,” I said. “I would feel shocked and paralyzed exactly like what just happened. And um, I’m still hard, so I think I’d obey you, although I probably wouldn’t believe it was happening.”
He laughed softly into my ear. “I really like you, Jules.”
I focused on Tristan, and saw he was the one trembling now. Doc pulled Tristan’s arms behind his back, and wound the trailing end of tape around both Tristan’s wrists, fastening them together. “Little boys don’t try to leave their daddies without permission, do they Tris?”
“No, Daddy,” Tristan answered, in a sweet, hesitant voice. It was not at all like his voice when he’d been showing me around the club. And then Doc kept asking questions, and Tristan kept answering in that voice, and the whole thing started to get more weird than erotic.
“And why aren’t you allowed to leave without permission? Do you remember?”
“Because little boys need adult supervision.”
“Otherwise what happens, Tris?” Doc’s voice was very firm, almost scary.
“I might do bad things that get me in big trouble,” Tristan answered, and it sounded like he might be crying.
“Did you give me permission to stop you from doing bad things?”
“Yes, Daddy. I want you to stop me.”
“Were you coerced into giving me permission?”
“No, Daddy, of course not. I need you. I love you.”
My God. It was as if they were the only two people in the whole building. Tristan didn’t seem aware of us watching at all. And it took looking around the room for me to remember a slew of other people were watching from beyond the mats.
“Did I tell you to come and find me if you wanted the tape off?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m not allowed to take the tape off by myself.”
“I’m both very proud and very disappointed in you tonight, Tris. You try hard to be good, and you did a nice thing showing the new boy around, talking to him, and trying to help him be comfortable here. That was sweet.”
“I like the new boy, Daddy. I want to be friends with him. Can I?”
Were they talking about me?
“We’ll talk about it later. I was going to give you your hands back next week, but I’m afraid you’re not ready.”
Tristan’s wail was loud enough to be startling. “Oh, Daddy, don’t. Please don’t. I… I’ll do something bad. I’m not strong.”
“Yes, I see that. Tristan, why did you try to take the tape off?”
It was hard to understand Tristan’s answer because he was genuinely crying now, but I thought he said, “Because I wanted Julian to think I was normal.”
I went rigid with surprise in Avery’s arms.
Tristan got in trouble with Doc because he wanted to impress me? I wasn’t sure I believed it. I mean, it was totally ridiculous. I was the most awkward person in the world, and he was cute and cocky and flirty and confident.
Avery chuffed a soft laugh in my ear.
I craned my head around to look at him. “That can’t be right,” I whispered. “I must have heard wrong.”
“Shh,” Avery said. “We can talk about it later. Just watch now.”
I tried to relax against Avery’s chest again, but now I felt even more sorry for Tristan. No, I reminded myself, he l
ikes this. I studied Tristan from heels to head. The spreader bar was interesting, and clearly made him need tight control over his abdominal muscles to prevent smashing his nose against the post, where he still held the piece of paper against the wood. I didn’t know how he could concentrate on maintaining that posture and answer questions, talk, and even cry, all at the same time.
For the rest of Tristan’s punishment, Doc hit his upper back in a rhythmic, almost gentle fashion with a many-tailed flogger. I knew what that was, although I couldn’t remember why I knew, and it didn’t seem to hurt Tristan very much. Maybe it was intended to make holding the paper against the post more difficult. There came a point after, oh, several minutes, when Tristan arched back from the post, let the paper flutter away, and fell to his knees, still facing the post. He seemed to be panting. Doc let the flogger rest at his side, and said, “Tell me what you’ve learned, sweet boy.”
“I’m sorry,” Tristan said, in that small voice. “I need to follow Daddy’s rules because Daddy knows best.”
My eyes rested on the end of the plug that now seemed to protrude from between Tristan’s ass cheeks. My own cheeks clenched, almost in anticipation of knowing what that felt like. Held open, or impaled? Would it be uncomfortable, or would it be pleasurable? I’d known both sensations from Avery’s fingers, so I couldn’t even guess.
I got uncomfortably hard in my jeans again. He wouldn’t really put something like that inside me and make me go to work, would he?
Then again, he hung me from the bathroom wall, and let Evan into the office for a meeting. So yeah, I was in no position to predict what Avery would or wouldn’t do.
While I was lost in that train of thought, Doc unfastened Tristan’s ankles, threw the spreader bar and the flogger into his duffel bag, and helped Tris to his feet. They disappeared behind the curtain, and I found I could picture Doc cuddling and soothing Tristan in the warm glow of backstage.
Avery rocked me a little from side to side. “Show’s over, and we have work tomorrow, so we should call it a night.”
I agreed, but my tummy still trembled from what he’d said about the anal plug. There was a strange and scary thought running around in my head that maybe I wanted to know how it would feel before morning. I didn’t know if I could find the words to ask for it without dying of embarrassment, and I wasn’t sure if the idea of the plug was a secret thrill, or a terrible promise.
chapter twenty-two
apologies aren’t always warranted
At least this time I wasn’t stuck in stunned silence trying to recover in the cab. I’d known more or less what to expect at the club, and the biggest surprise was that I’d managed to have a fairly normal social interaction with someone who was practically a stranger, and it had gone well. I’d already decided I wouldn’t mind talking to Tristan again.
Avery was changing me, and I liked it.
I cuddled into his side, the inside of my head quieter than usual. I might even call it relaxed.
“I wasn’t kidding about the plug,” Avery murmured against my hair. And then he slid a hand under my shirt and caressed the sensitive skin just below my naval.
A violent shiver wracked my whole body, and I made a sound.
“What color, Jules?”
“Green,” I managed to choke out.
His hand slid up my torso until he found my right nipple. He rolled it between his fingers, and I shivered again. Before Avery, I hadn’t known nipples were connected to nerves that ran all the way down my body to my cock and balls. But they did, and I loved how that tantalizing zing flared and receded, then flared again. He pinched my nipple then, hard, and I yelped, my cock trying to jerk inside jeans that were too tight. I groaned, turned-on and frustrated at the same time, but the kind of frustrated that was delightful.
“What do you think of piercings, Jules?” he asked, as he pinched my nipple again, then continued rolling it between his fingers. My body’s response felt never-ending, and my toes curled. “Jules?”
“I have no idea,” I said, panting. “I can’t think while you’re doing that.”
His chuckle in my ear was a warm tease, soothing the sensation at my chest that was nearly pain. And still it went on, until not only were my toes curled, but my back was arched so I was pressing my chest harder against his hand, a stuttering moan filling the car.
My eyes landed on the rearview mirror at the same time the cabbie’s did, and that only made my noises louder.
“God, Avery. Please,” I expected to stutter the words like the moan, but they came out loud and crystal clear.
“Please, what?”
“Please, sir.”
That warm chuckle again. “Please stop?”
“Fuck, no. Don’t ever stop.”
“You better stop,” the driver said. “You gotta get out of the car now. And before he makes a mess back there.”
Avery let go of my nipple and laughed. I stared at the tilt of his head, his open mouth, his total enjoyment of the moment. No worries, no embarrassment.
I wanted to be just like him someday.
Five minutes later we were in the apartment, and he had hold of my nipple again, backing me down the hallway toward his bedroom.
I groaned his name, begging him to stop.
“You told me to never stop. There was even a witness.”
The fucking jeans were a vice around my dick, and I was panting again. All from his fingers pinching and rolling this ridiculously tiny ball of flesh on my chest.
“Yellow?” he suggested, a wicked gleam in his eye.
I shook my head and tried to catch my breath. “These pants have to go. They’re killing me.”
The backs of my knees hit the mattress just then, and I collapsed onto the bed, finally escaping his grip.
“I agree,” Avery said, his hands dropping to my crotch. “All these clothes. So inconvenient.”
Our hands bumped as we both scrabbled at my jeans, and within a minute or two they were blessedly gone. Well, tangled around my ankles and shoes along with my skimpy shorts, but close enough to gone. Avery yanked the front of my shirt over my head but left my arms trapped – the same way he did when he hung me from the hook in his office bathroom. Then he lifted my legs by the jeans still stuck around my feet. “Hold this,” he said, and threaded my shirt-tangled arms between my ankles, so I pretty much held myself in bondage. It felt so ridiculous to be holding my legs over my head like this that I might have laughed, except I happened to glance at Avery’s face.
He looked at me as if I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He licked his lips and dragged his hands from my ankles to my ass, then dug his fingers into my buttocks, spreading me wide open.
I forgot to breathe as he lowered his mouth, his lips nibbling at my scrotum, and then – and then lower.
I let out an embarrassed squeak. He wasn’t going to – he wasn’t, was he?
He did, and my heart hammered with mortification. The hot, wet touch of his tongue in that most private of private places, that dirty place, nearly made me hyperventilate. “Avery!” My voice was a soft, gasping squeal, and he responded with a long, drawn-out “shhhhh” that turned into a hot breeze across my hole. Touch of his tongue again, an insistent probing, there and gone, as he lifted his head. “You know the colors, Jules.”
I did. I did know the colors.
Yellow for something is wrong. Red for stop everything.
I was in neither place. Was there another color, maybe? Orange for ‘oh my God, this can’t be happening?’
“Jules. Color?”
“I don’t know!” It came out a long whining wail. “I just… just… God, Avery.”
He snorted at me and grinned. Even his eyes sparkled like they were smiling. He dipped his head again, not at all embarrassed or hesitant.
I tried to take a deep breath, but with my legs folded over my head, and with being so exposed, and with this searing shameful pleasure roaring through me, I just… couldn’t. And when one of his hands
wrapped around my dick, my own mortification spun away, along with the room and all conscious thought.
I think it was a while before I became aware of the room again, and of Avery’s fingers moving inside me, creating that electric jolt of pleasure that forced the come out of my dick like an unexpected explosion.
When my eyes managed to focus, I had a view of Avery, framed between my knees, one hand inside his pants, his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut.
I watched him come.
His face went slack with pleasure, and his eyes, those deep blue eyes, opened to find me staring at him.
So beautiful. He looked so content and satisfied that I couldn’t help but wish I’d made him feel that way. Look like that.
I had no idea I was going to cry.
My throat tightened and my eyes teared, longing for something I didn’t even understand. The feeling grew so huge that a sob broke loose, and Avery’s face changed from content to concerned.
“Jules? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head, jerking my arms free and wriggling to get the shirt over my head and off.
Avery crawled up the bed and helped me undress, pulling my shoes off and tugging my jeans over my feet.
I wanted to run to the bathroom and hide, but when I sat up, the room spun around me, and I had to tuck my head between my knees try to breathe between sobs.
Avery curled his body around me and rubbed slow circles into my spine.
“Take your time. That was really intense.”
I found a tiny bit of control after a minute or two, stopping the sobs, and sucking in breaths that sounded like hiccups. “I’m sorry,” I said, and said it at least three more times.
