“The drive up was so pretty. Too bad it’ll be dark on the way back to your home,” she said, hoping to get the conversation going again. “How’d you find this place, out in the middle of nowhere, anyway?”
“I have a stable up near here since my land in Westchester isn’t zoned for horses. It doesn’t take long to get here, so I try to come out a couple times a month to ride.”
“Do the horses get lonely?”
“Nah,” he smiled. “The stable is another of my businesses. We stable other people’s horses as well and pay staff to take care of them and ride them. The guys know that they’re always welcome to bring their families out to go riding. My horse Willa is so gentle, she’s probably been the first horse every kid in this town has ridden as a sort of ‘practice horse.’ ”
The food arrived, with two busboys following the waitress to bring all the plates and the beer samplers, which involved five short glasses of different hops.
“That sounds like the sort of horse I need to train on,” she admitted. She stood and served food onto Trevor’s plate and placed his napkin on his lap, like she used to do for Gregory. “I’ve never ridden in my life.”
“What? We have to remedy that. ” He reached for his cell, but Elisabeth stopped him by putting her hand over his.
“Adele knows. She scheduled me some riding lessons, I think.”
“I want to be the one to teach you.”
Something in the way he said this brought a shiver of anticipation up her spine. “Okay, that sounds good.”
“We can go for a quick ride after dinner. Half hour, tops. Just so I can show you how to get in the saddle and I’ll walk you around the ring. It’ll make you more comfortable when it’s time for your riding lessons.”
Elisabeth took a sip of one of the glasses of beer, and immediately sampled the next one to see if she could tell the difference. “Yum.”
“Wait’ll you try the ribs.” Trevor grinned and dug into this food with the same relish she recalled seeing on his face when he ate her pussy.
Gregory wondered how Elisabeth was faring with Trevor. It must be a huge difference for her—to sleep with someone who was sexually attracted to her, the woman, and not just aroused by her submission and masochism.
Andrew was working late tonight, closing up WhipperSnapper. Which meant they had the entire dungeon at their disposal, and an entire evening to play. And Gregory, standing outside the club, was thrilled to take advantage of that.
He hadn’t even kissed a man since college, during what he considered to be his experimental days. But this was no experiment. Night after night of seeing Andrew at the club, of interacting with him, learning about him—it all led to one conclusion.
Gregory had to have him. But would Andrew be the sort of submissive slave he needed in his life, or was he just a pretty boy who could talk the talk but not walk the walk?
He texted him: I’m here, open up or I’ll blow your house down.
Andrew opened the door immediately, a smile on his face. “Well, I have no house for you to blow, but—”
Gregory silenced him with a stern finger on his lips. “You’re trying to be clever, but you don’t need to be, not for me. And cleverness often masquerades as disrespect, do you understand?”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“And trust me when I say that tonight will end with only one of us getting blown. It’s not you.” Gregory laughed at the look on Andrew’s face. The two men stepped inside and closed the door behind them.
“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, sir. To be honest, I’ve been with guys but no one who knows anything about being a real Dom. You’d be my first. I’ve only ever played at it before.”
“What’s your safeword, Andrew?”
“Can we just use the stoplight system everyone uses at the club? It’s what I’m most familiar with.”
Gregory nodded, reaching out to feel Andrew’s short hair, gelled so it looked like bed head. “So. Anything you’re scared of, anything we can’t do?”
Andrew smiled, the nervousness evident on his face. “Do you have condoms, lube?”
“I do.”
“Then I’ll try to do whatever you want.”
“Kneel.”
The boy knelt immediately, and Gregory leaned back against the front door of WhipperSnapper with a sigh. For the past few months, whenever he masturbated, he’d closed his eyes and imagined it was Andrew servicing his cock. Now, he could open them and look down at him.
“Put this on with your mouth. Hands behind your back,” Gregory ordered, tossing him a condom.
“Yes, sir.”
It was clearly a trick the kid knew well, because the condom slid on easily with only Andrew’s tongue and mouth to guide it.
Gregory looked at him, holding his hands behind his back, bobbing back and forth on his cock with such talent. Grasping the boy’s hair in his hands, he fucked his mouth with long, deep strokes, purposefully going far enough back to trigger his gag reflex.
But Andrew kept calm, breathing through his nose, and didn’t complain. This was definitely the sort of submission Gregory could get used to.
Trevor grabbed Elisabeth’s arm when she stumbled a bit on their way out the door of the barbecue place.
“I might be slightly tipsy,” she warned. “Five little beers equals, like three big beers. And I’m a cheap date.”
Trevor laughed and held her hand, opening the car door for her.
“Thanks for dinner, boss,” Carl said, his food eaten and the front seat spotless once more. “You know what I like.”
“Anytime, man.” Trevor looked up. “It’s a bit late to meet the horses tonight. We can go another time though.”
“Aww . . . ,” she pouted, but she looked up too at the beautiful night sky. “Hey, you’ve got real stars.”
“Lots of stars out in the country on a clear night,” Trevor agreed, holding her against his chest.
How lucky he was, to be so rich that he could afford real stars, and not a painted night sky like the one she left behind in Grand Central.
Dinner with Elisabeth had been perfect. She was easy to talk to, beautiful, interesting, and when she said she was going to make sure Trevor finally experienced good service at his favorite barbecue joint, she wasn’t kidding. All through the meal it had been Elisabeth who refilled his drinks, brought him extra napkins, and even tracked down an extra corn-bread muffin from the kitchen.
Could she be the woman he’d been looking for? Or was he fooling himself, rushing into things because he wanted it to work so badly?
Whatever he did, he couldn’t afford another experience like the one he had with his ex-wife Cynthia. Elisabeth was awesome, but they were still riding high on what was essentially their honeymoon period.
Only time would tell if Elisabeth could be the one for him, and not just in the bedroom. He wanted her to be, but he couldn’t help feeling jaded. He just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Chapter Four
“I’ve never been paddled before, sir,” Andrew said, the fear obvious in his voice as he stared at WhipperSnapper’s famous black leather spanking bench. After hours, the club was silent, only the sound of the young man’s uneven breath to be heard.
“It’s only a paddling,” Gregory reassured him. “It will hurt. Maybe you’ll cry. But you won’t be harmed by it. I want to give you something to remember me by every time you sit down until I can see you again.”
“That paddle looks . . . intimidating.”
Gregory laughed. “You’re only going to make it worse for yourself, the longer you wait to grab hold of that spanking bench. How can you call yourself a sub and never even have gotten a proper paddling?”
“I don’t know, sir. It never came up.”
“Well,” Gregory said, gently cupping the boy’s cock. “It came up now. Admi
t it. Say, ‘I want you to paddle me, sir, because it turns me on.’ ”
Andrew took a shaky breath and held on to the spanking bench as if it were a life jacket. “I want you to paddle me, sir, because it turns me on,” he repeated dutifully.
Did Gregory detect a note of arousal in there? Definitely.
“I love this ass,” he said, pulling Andrew’s black trousers down, followed by his gray boxer briefs. “This ass is perfect for spanking.”
For a moment, Gregory just rubbed Andrew’s beautiful bottom, smacking it lightly with his palm, enjoying the feel of it beneath his hand. If only he could fuck this ass. . . .
Soon. But not yet.
With a loud crack, Gregory brought the paddle down on Andrew’s ass, eliciting a delightful choked wail.
“Now, now, don’t hold back. You know the club is soundproofed. And that was just the beginning.”
A sob escaped Andrew’s lips, but his cock was still erect, dripping pre-come onto the black leather of the spanking bench.
“Where are we, Andrew? Use your colors.”
“I’m good,” he said shakily. “Green for go, sir.”
And with that, Gregory brought the paddle down on the already-blushing skin of Andrew’s ass cheeks.
“Why did you ask me if I think Gregory deserves a soul mate?” Elisabeth asked Trevor, who was studiously tying her wrists together and attaching them to one corner of the four-poster bed.
“I think the better question is, why didn’t you ask that of yourself?” Trevor stood back and studied his handiwork. “Struggle.”
She tried to move her wrists, yanking on the ropes. They didn’t budge. “I’m all yours.”
“You need to be preparing yourself for where this is going. Gregory will be moving on, and so should you.”
“Move on from here?” she asked, horrified. She’d been trying so hard to be good for him. . . .
“Don’t be silly. I’ve just begun courting you.”
Elisabeth gasped as two of Trevor’s lubricated fingers slipped inside her pussy. “Is that what this is? Courting? Are we in a kingdom that I didn’t know about? Back in olden times?”
Trevor smiled, pressing a third finger inside her. “I consider myself to be a bit old-fashioned, yes.”
“Because me going up to you at WhipperSnapper and telling you I’m a pain-slut is how Grandma used to do it.”
“It was a perfectly old-fashioned way to meet,” he teased, and now four fingers were deep inside her, filling her. “I saw you first and asked for an introduction. I chose you before you even knew I existed. Now relax your muscles.”
“Oh my God,” Elisabeth breathed. She knew where he was going with this. Her arms pulled against their restraints despite how much she loved the erotic pain of being fisted. “Trust me, sir, I knew you existed.”
And there it was, his thumb, his hand pressing slowly inside her, past his knuckles, opening her wide until his fist was inside her cunt.
“How is that?” he asked.
“Horrible. Wonderful.” She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. “Permission to come, sir?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
Her vaginal wall muscles clamped around his fist, her entire body spasming with an orgasm that was at once painful and exhilarating. When he removed his hand, she screamed as if she’d birthed a child.
“That was beautiful, Elisabeth. I love your orgasm face even more than I love your so-called happy face.”
“Which happy face?” she asked, completely forgetting how she bratted him that first night.
She winced as he gave her a hard, swift smack on her clit with his still-slick hand.
“That one.”
Gregory’s apartment in the city felt roomier, too roomy, in fact, without Elisabeth around. She often used to follow him around from room to room when he was home, always looking for attention or for a way to be naughty. He loved a brat. Most men and many Doms didn’t, but any excuse to skip straight to the fun was good for him.
He knew Andrew was living in an apartment in the Village. Would he consider moving into Gregory’s building on the Upper East Side? He’d inherited it from his parents, and while its worth was considerable there was no reason for him to sell it and move, since it suited his needs perfectly.
It was a bit soon to ask Andrew to be a live-in slave, surely. He didn’t seem to be the same sort as Elisabeth, who begged for a slave contract in exchange for his total dominance over her. Gregory hadn’t realized her mother had just passed away when he first took her in or he would have insisted she give herself time to grieve and go through the mourning process before making life decisions like that. The girl didn’t tell him that one important fact until nearly six months later, when they had already developed a routine and a fondness for each other.
No, Andrew was a different sort. More of the type of guy who’d appreciate romance. Going out on dates. Dinner and movies, perhaps. What did one do on a date with another man? When he was in college and completely closeted, he dated girls and fucked guys. This would be his first real adult relationship with someone he had strong emotional feelings for.
A little late to the party, but better now than never. He still had the best years of his life in front of him. Especially if he could share it with a guy as cute as Andrew. Ugh, cute. What a horrible word to describe another grown man, but it fit the kid, for God’s sake. So. Fucking. Cute.
With a sigh, Gregory stood and stretched. He’d already gotten into his robe and slippers for the evening, but he’d have to get dressed to go out again and see Andrew at WhipperSnapper. Unless Andrew wanted to come to him after work . . . then the robe could stay, or be discarded as necessary.
“It’s time for Elisabeth to learn how to ride,” Trevor announced to Adele, and almost instantly, arrangements were made so they could go back up to his stables.
Elisabeth’s lower lip, which he could see she’d touched up with lip gloss during the car ride, dropped ever so slightly as the scenery opened up to the beautiful rolling hills of the countryside and the rustic stables that housed the horses. The night was still young, and if he could get her on a horse soon, she’d experience her first ride at sunset.
Perfect.
“Let’s go meet the horses,” he said.
“I want to, but you should probably know I’m kind of scared of heights.”
“A horse really isn’t that high up. Let’s just try it and see how it feels. How does that sound?”
“Like an order from a Dom?”
Trevor laughed and let Willa out of her stable, giving her some sugar cubes and petting her mane before he saddled her up, making sure the saddle wouldn’t slip. “We’re losing light. Come on, you’ll love it.”
“Okay, sir. I’m ready.”
“Elisabeth, meet Willa. Willa, meet Elisabeth.” With that brief introduction, which had the intended effect of putting a smile on her face, Trevor hoisted her into the saddle. “How’s that feel?”
“Hurts a bit between the legs,” she replied, grinning. “I’ll be walking bowlegged after this.”
“Not after this, but maybe after tonight,” he joked, taking a riding crop off the wall on the rare chance that Willa needed a tap to move along. “Do you want to change position?”
“Are you kidding? I love pussy torture. Bring it on.”
Trevor scoffed. “Language!” He covered Willa’s ears as if she were a child instead of an old horse.
Slowly, Trevor led Willa out of the barn, constantly checking to see how Elisabeth seemed to be fairing.
“Okay?”
“It’s great! I want to run!” she said.
“You mean, gallop?”
“Yes! I want to gallop.” She looked out over the hills with a glint in her eye.
“You have to crawl before you can walk, and you have to trot before you can
gallop.”
Elisabeth wasn’t even looking at him, just out at the green pasture. “What?”
“You’re not ready for that,” he warned.
“Come on, Willa!” she yelled, but the horse stayed still. Elisabeth tightened her legs, her heels pressing against the horse’s flanks. Willa neighed and jolted forward.
“Whoa, girl,” Trevor yelled, but it didn’t seem to have any effect. With a gentle jump over the low post-and-rail fence outlining the training area, Willa went from zero to galloping across the fields in the blink of an eye.
“Elisabeth, hold on,” he yelled, although he knew there was no way she could hear him above the sound of the horse’s hooves and the wind blowing across her face. The sun was setting but now it didn’t seem romantic—it seemed like he had a very short window of opportunity to get Elisabeth back to safety before nightfall. Unlike in the city or suburbs, nighttime in the country was dark. Very dark.
He ran into the stable and grabbed Flash, his favorite horse, and one known for both following direction and being fast. Right now Trevor needed both. He mounted the horse bareback, no time for a saddle, and gave a tap with the riding crop along with a yell that Flash seemed to intuitively understand meant Follow that girl.
It didn’t take long for Flash to catch up with Willa, who had stopped galloping and was now wandering slowly in a circle.
But Elisabeth wasn’t on her.
“Trevor?” Her voice sounded shaky, breathless. “I’m here. I’m fine. Just twisted my wrist a bit I think.”
Oh, thank God. He dismounted, and bent down, lifting her off the grass. “What were you thinking, galloping off like that?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Willa seemed like she knew what she was doing, and it felt like we both wanted to jump the fence and run around a bit.”
Trevor wanted to yell at her, to let out his frustration. She could have been severely injured. Instead, he would speak quietly, so she’d have to strain to hear him. The sun had set completely; they were alone in the field with only the moonlight and the two horses milling about. The stables, painted red, now looked gray in the dark and in the distance.
Enslaved Page 6
