Yes, Master

by Margaret McHeyzer

  Two years ago, Mason was so heavily into drugs that I thought he’d die. I was waiting for the phone call from his parents telling me when and where the funeral was. He was a changed man for those few years that he kept his habit up, making him unpredictable and totally untrustworthy, but I never gave up on him.

  Whenever he needed a place to stay, I always had my front door open for him unless Lucy was staying with me. No matter what he did, I always had his back. He stole from me, he used me, and he even tried to pick fist fights, but I was unwavering. I knew it was the drugs and I tried to help him as much as I could. Who was I to judge?

  He was heavily addicted, until one night when I was watching TMZ, and they announced that Mason had gone into rehab.

  That was the last I saw of him, until twelve months ago, when he ended up on my door step. He was looking healthy and also ashamed. That night he explained how he was at his breaking point and a woman saved him. That was all he told me and I never pushed him to reveal more than he wanted.

  We all have secrets we don’t ever want to share. We all have skeletons lurking deep inside our closets, just the size and amount of the bones change from person to person.

  Breathing deeply through my nose as those times play around in my head, I notice I’ve willed my cock into submission. The thought of being attracted to Mason totally disgusts me again, I’m not gay.

  I open my eyes and look around the room and think I best get this place looking like my life is in order, and not just the broken empty shards that lay like the unfinished jigsaw puzzle it actually is.

  Chapter 2

  “Good morning, Sergeant Major,” the soldiers that pass me say as I walk toward my office. I don’t even hear them anymore; nor do I know who says it and who doesn’t. I’m not here for the power, I’m here to do my job. And to do it well.

  But today’s Friday afternoon and I’m totally distracted. I’m trying not to admit it to myself that the reason I’ve been so frenzied and out of sorts is because when I get home, Mase will be waiting for me. But the moment I even think of his name, I start to get nervous. Like I’m about to navigate through a mine field without the proper equipment.

  “Sergeant Major,” I hear the assigned Private, Amanda Smith say as I approach my office. I look over to her and she’s doing that whole cute smile fluttering eye lids thing.

  “Amanda, are there any messages?” I ignore her flirtatious behavior and ask her fairly curtly.

  “No, Sergeant Major.” She lifts an eyebrow at me as I walk past her, essentially shutting her down.

  I close my door, and she knows I don’t like to be interrupted unless my ex-wife Joanna calls, or a superior is in need of me.

  I sit in my chair and lean my head back. Bringing my hand up to my head, I rub it over my face a couple of times while I close my eyes.

  “Come suck my cock, boy.” I hear him, I can smell him, I can even feel him. “Be a good boy and suck me ‘til I come.”

  I jerk up out of my chair and look around. I could’ve sworn he was in here.

  Why, after all these months that I haven’t thought that about him, have I gone back to thinking of those times? My heart’s shivering in my chest, and I look at my hands and see they’re profusely shaking. Fuck. I need to calm down.

  Walking over to my office window, I lean a palm up against the cool glass pane as I stare out at the green training fields in front of my office. I will my body, that’s sporting a damn huge hard-on, to comply with my mind. I don’t want an erection to be how I remember those times. That’s not an accurate representation of what happened. All I know is, I have to get out of here before I lose it at work.

  I wait a few moments until my embarrassing and disgusting cock goes down before I grab my work bag and leave for the weekend.

  Amanda sits at her desk with her long legs out to the side showing me her toned calves below her military uniform. Christ, I know she wants me, the way she subtly flirts and the way she throws herself at me. The way she eye fucks me every time I walk past her, it’s blatantly obvious to me even though she tries to conceal it.

  “Can I do anything for you, Sergeant Major?” she asks as I walk past her desk, but don’t even bother looking at her.

  “No. Have a good weekend,” I reply as I walk away.

  Once I’m in my car I do everything possible to keep my mind off the fact that Mase will be home when I get there.

  Hmmm, Mase and home. I like the sound of that, I think I’d like to come home to Mason more often. No! I’m not gay.

  When I park in the drive way of my small home that sits nestled amongst other similar looking houses, with tree lined roads and kids playing happily in their yards, I notice that Mase isn’t here yet. So I walk inside, drop my bag by the front door and tidy up a little. Since Mason announced he was coming to stay, I cleaned up and for now, my home resembles somebody that’s composed, disciplined and in control.

  I hear the knock on the door and I stop. I literally freeze on the spot. I don’t want to answer the door, but I don’t want Mason out of my life either. A few seconds pass and I manage to convince myself to open it, and when I do I’m damn near floored.

  In front of me stands Mason. He’s got stubble on his face and instantly I want to kiss him. I’m not gay.

  He’s frame is so thick and muscly, I can see the outline of months spent in the gym through his t-shirt.

  “Mase.” My voice sounds like I’ve eaten gravel as Mason steps through the door and extends his hand out to me. I look down at it then back up to his warm brown eyes.

  “Ryan, it’s so good to see you.” He’s waiting for me to shake his hand but I stare at him again. He looks quite worried. Shit, don’t tell me he knows what I’m thinking.

  “Since when do we shake hands?” I ask.

  He grins his lopsided smile, and his eyes instantly liquefy as he brings me in for a tight bear hug.

  Fuck.

  His smell.

  Like soap and aftershave, my favorite Bulgaria Aqua. That aroma’s embedded deep inside me and whenever I smell it, my thoughts instantly flood with Mason. I pull away from him and close the door, essentially giving us some distance. I also turn my obvious reaction to him away, so he can’t see the effect he causes me. How do I explain that?

  I sit in my chair, carefully concealing my cock that’s become rock hard, just from Mason’s smell.

  Damn he looks good though. He’s dark hair is longer, down to his chin and he looks so healthy and well. But he’s got black rings under his eyes.

  “Sit down man, how are you?” Mason sits over on the sofa and brings one leg up over his knee.

  “Good. I’ve been busy filming.”

  “Where are you filming now? I never know where the hell you are.” I snicker.

  “Ry, seriously, I’m shooting in Australia. Sydney, actually. But I’ve got ten days off so I thought I’d high tail it back here and spend some time with my best friend that I’ve not seen in what? Four months?” he questions me as he shakes his head.

  “Try thirteen, but I don’t hold it against you. You are a big time movie star. Well so I hear.” I wink at him and he lets out a small laugh.

  “Well apparently those rumors are true. So what’re the plans for tonight? Wanna just order in and hang or wanna go out?”

  “Mason, I haven’t seen you in over a year, I really don’t feel like watching you get mobbed by hormonal teenage girls and needy sexually frustrated wives ‘cause they see the great Mason Carter getting around town.” It’s at that moment Mason licks his lips and my eyes immediately go to his tongue as he sweeps it across his bottom lip. Shit, I best look away.

  “You’re an ass, Ry. We’ll stay in. Are you going to offer me something to drink you pompous dick?”

  I can’t exactly tell Mase that I’m finding it difficult to stand up, because my cock that was calming down, is as hard as it’s ever been, all thanks to him licking his dry luscious full lips.

  “Since when did I become your bitch? Y
ou know where the damn kitchen is.”

  Mason stands and goes to the fridge, leaving me for a moment as I try to talk my cock into behaving.

  I’m not gay.

  “So tell me about this woman you’re seeing,” I say as I begin to feel my wood going down.

  “Man, she’s just amazing.” Mason walks back in with two beers, one for him and one for me. He takes his seat again and brings the bottle up to his lips as he takes a swig of beer. “I’ve been seeing her for two years, Ryan.”

  “What? Why haven’t I heard about her before?”

  “Our relationship is, um.” He stops talking as he down casts his eyes but a small deviant smile graces his alluring face, “um, it’s sort of different.”

  “How?” this piques my interest and I sit forward in my chair.

  “It’s a bit difficult to explain. But you’ll meet her tomorrow. You have a tux right? It’s a very swanky affair, black and white event.”

  “Yeah yeah, I’ve got a tux, but tell me about your woman.” Mason almost spits his beer out when I finish the sentence. “What’s so funny?”

  “She’s definitely not my woman,” his cheeks pink up a bit with his coy and elusive answer.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Um, doesn’t matter. So tell me what’s been happening with you? No woman I see.”

  “No, nothing serious. I mean sure I get pussy, but nah after Joanna I’m not really that…” I pause and think to myself, interested in women, wanting women, “interested. So it’s just shallow meaningless sex when I want it.”

  “You know, if a book was written about you, it would be called Man Whore.”

  I look at Mason and I must have a scowl because he bursts into laughter which makes me smile.

  “Let’s order and you can tell me about this hot shot film Mr. Movie Star’s working on.”

  I grab my phone and dial for pizza. Mason sits on the sofa looking at the TV but definitely not watching it.

  He looks worried, after all these years I can tell all his signs of anxiety and stress. His eyes glass over, and his shoulders slump forward but it’s the slightly down turned left hand side of his mouth that gives away just how stressed he is. And that’s exactly what he’s doing sitting on my sofa pretending to watch TV so I won’t question him. But that shit doesn’t sit right with me, and we’ve been through so much for me to ignore it.

  “Mase,” I say as his gaze doesn’t waver. He’s deep in thought and he mustn’t have even registered me in the room. “Mase,” I say a little louder.

  Again, I get nothing from him.

  “Mase!” I half yell at him, it’s then he snaps his head up and looks at me with a look I’ve only seen a few times from him.

  There’s an expulsion of desire, heat and raw passion radiating from his entire frame. From the top of his head, to his shoe clad feet. I can see his chest rising and falling quickly and I can hear his labored breath hitching rapidly. Shit, what do I do? If I keep looking at him, I’ll try and do something stupid, like kiss him.

  So I do the only thing I can do, get up and leave.

  “I’ll just grab us some beers.” As I walk past him my leg brushes up against his, I feel it. That damn crap they talk about in books. The electricity and zing and everything else those love sick horny teenage kids say.

  But fuck, I won’t do anything about it.

  I’m not gay.

  I spend a few extra moments in the kitchen just catching my breath and clearing my head before I go back out. When I do, I see that Mason’s a little more composed in himself too.

  Just as I hand him another beer, the doorbell rings telling us that our pizza’s here.

  “So tell me about the movie you’re working on,” I say as I sit as far away as I can from him, not wanting to touch him so I can’t lose control.

  “Apparently there’s Oscar talk with this one, Ry.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “I play an emotionally broken man. He has two kids and he’s been divorced for about five years. The character’s been harboring a painful and tragic secret all his life which makes it difficult for him to find his place in the world.” I think about this story line as I eat a couple of pieces of pizza.

  “What’s he been hiding that has him so broken?” I ask as I take a swig of my beer.

  “He was sexually abused as a kid by his father.” I have to exercise every ounce of strength in me not to scream out that that story’s me with most of the details correct.

  “And what happens to the guy?” I try to sound as casual as possible.

  “He goes through a few years of self-torture and has no personal love. He goes to therapists, and tries whatever he can to move forward.”

  “And?”

  “He ends up not being able to take the pressure any longer and kills himself.” Mason says and then shoves more pizza in his mouth.

  Is that where I’m headed?

  To a life where I can’t handle the pain and the humiliation any longer and I finally end up taking my own life?

  A very real and probable future.

  Chapter 3

  Last night was difficult for me. When Mase went to bed, I lay on my too soft mattress across the hall from him and had a restless night’s sleep.

  Every time I closed my eyes I saw him, the beast. Memories so clear and so vivid that I thought he was in my room with me. A few times I cowered away on my bed as I heard him telling me what to do. To ‘spit on my cock, boy so I can fuck you good’ I started crying when I remembered the first time he did that to me, it hurt and I was screaming at him to stop. He just laughed and said to bite down on the pillow.

  That was the third time I went and stayed with him. I was crying so much, but also bleeding so much, I thought he’d damaged me and I couldn’t bear to even wipe when I went to the bathroom.

  He let me recover from that night, but the next time, he was rougher and introduced a vibe. He said I needed it because he came too quickly and wanted to get hard again, so he fucked me with his dick and then with a vibe. But that wasn’t the worse of it. I wish it was.

  By 5am I gave up on the little sleep I did have. I dragged myself out to the bathroom, closed the door and turned the shower on hot. Sometimes it was the only way I could wash away the thoughts of him, to burn my body with scorching water and scrub it in hope that everything he ever did to me disappeared down the drain, just like the water that was caressing my worthless body. But no matter how much I did that, I would never feel clean.

  I always felt so, used.

  Whilst in the shower my thoughts abruptly stop about him and swiftly redirect to the man that’s lying in the bed across the hallway from my room.

  What he’s wearing as his hard muscled body is soundly sleeping. How his hair must be falling over his face as his breath lightly grazes the strands that haphazardly are strewn across his lips.

  I close my eyes and lean into the sliding glass shower door. My forehead, hot and clammy from the shower, finds the cool of the door and instantly it sends shivers all the way down my body. The difference in the temperature is not unwelcome, it’s more enticing to feel the stark contrast between my overheated body and the cold of the glass.

  My right hand is at my throat, I can feel the tightness and pressure my fingers are putting around my neck. Mmm, yes I like that.

  Slowly my hand slides down from my throat and finds its next stop, my left nipple. I pinch it and pull it to emulate the same touch I want Mason to be doing to me right now. God, the feel of the hot water running down my body as my fingers expertly make my nipples stand on end is fucking unbelievable. My cock’s starting to strain and I need to relieve it.

  My hand wraps around my shaft and slowly I move it up to the tip. I flick the end with my thumb and I grunt with the shudder it sends down to the core of my body.

  Mason’s lips flood forward and I want them on me, closing my eyes tighter I can feel him. Feel his body in here with me, feel his entire torso pressing up
against my back. How his raspy tongue would feel, rough and hard as he licks my shoulder blade and growls in my ear.

  I turn my head and his minty breath’s right there, it’s mingling with the water and it feels terrific. I turn a little more and he pins me to the door, I want nothing more than to feel every part of him. His cock’s pressing into my ass, yes, I want it. I manoeuver myself back trying to gain that friction, and the ultimate closeness to him.

  “I want you, Mason,” I sigh but he doesn’t say anything.

  He leans around and captures my mouth in his. His hand comes around and starts stroking me. Shit he’s everywhere; his tongue’s seductively licking my mouth as his lips haven’t broken contact with my own.

  His stubble’s scratching at my cheek and all I want to do is grab his head so I can fuck his mouth. Oh yeah, his body’s caging me to him, and his hand is stroking my hard and eager cock. He drops it and cups my balls while he tightens his fingers around them. His other hand entwines with mine as he places them together on the door out to the side of me.

  I turn to see our fingers perfectly fitting together as the slight skin tone difference hold the hues of a well stroked oil painting.

  “Yes, Mason.” His hand speeds up and I can feel the tightening in my balls starting. He flicks the head of rock hard cock and I groan in his mouth.

  Yes, that’s it.

  He pushes against my ass and I can feel him, just there. Ready to enter, it feels so good. I feel like I’ve had a blanket of Mason thrown on me, and fuck I love it. He strokes me and holds my cock so tightly in his hand that it causes me to rapidly hurdle toward my release.

  “Slow down, Love,” I moan as I throw my head back onto his shoulder. I start shaking and my heart skips a beat as streams of cum coats the shower wall.

  “Thank you.” I turn to kiss Mason but, he’s not here.

  Ducking my head out of the door I try to see where Mason’s gone. He’s not here, shit. Leaning my back up against the cooling of the glass, instantly my heart regulates as I run my hand over my mouth touching my lips.