Firm Hand

by Nora Phoenix

  There were differences in obedience. There was the outward obedience he gave a Dom he didn't know well but who said the right things. That was obedience out of routine, if you could call it that, years of experience in doing and saying the right thing. As long as a Dom wouldn't go too far or ask him to do something he really didn't want to, that obedience came easy.

  Then there was the real obedience, the kind that seemed to come from his soul, the type of obedience that brought him pleasure. That one wasn't routine by any standard, but came out of an innate desire to obey. That's exactly what he felt with Rhys. When Rhys told him to do something, he wanted to obey. He wanted to please him, to make him happy, to serve him.

  The question was, what did that mean? And more importantly, where did they go from here? If Rhys wanted to play with him again, should he say yes? Never mind, that was a stupid question. Of course he should say yes. There was no way he'd be able to say no. But where would that lead?

  "I can almost hear you thinking," Rhys mumbled. His hands found Cornell's head, softly caressing his hair. "How did you sleep?"

  Cornell leaned into his touch, resisting the urge to purr like a kitten. "Really well. I have a bit of a headache now and my throat is parched, but other than that, good."

  "Mmmm, glad to hear it," Rhys said, still sounding a bit sleepy.

  "And you?" Cornell asked.

  A soft chuckle reverberated through the chest his cheek was resting on. "The best night’s sleep I've had in a long time."

  "I wasn't too clingy for you? Invading your personal space?" Cornell checked.

  That resulted in another chuckle, and Rhys scratched his neck a little. "In case the signals weren't clear, I don't mind at all. Quite the opposite, in fact."

  Cornell's heart did a happy little skip when he heard that. He wanted to say how much he loved waking up like this, then decided against it. He'd better not move too fast.

  "So, I was thinking," Rhys said, and Cornell chuckled.

  "Wasn't that what you accused me of doing? Isn't it a little early for thinking?"

  Rhys's hand dropped to Cornell's ass and gave it a quick slap. "Don't you get mouthy with me now," he said, his voice light but with that wonderful undertone of dominance that Cornell loved so much.

  "Yes, Sir," he said, barely able to keep the happiness out of his voice.

  "That's better," Rhys said, and the hand on his ass started rubbing him. Cornell had to resist the impulse to move against it, knowing that would not have the desired effect. "As I was saying," Rhys continued. "I was thinking that you might benefit from another scene today."

  Well, that wiped the smile right off Cornell's face. Sure, he'd hoped to play with Rhys again, but today? When he was still so fragile and vulnerable? That was a disaster waiting to happen.

  "Don't you get all stressed now," Rhys said softly, his hand now rubbing in big circles over Cornell's ass, then traveling up his back and down again. "I know you're scared after what happened last time, but that wasn't your fault."

  "It wasn't your fault either," Cornell felt obliged to say.

  Rhys let out a little sigh. "It was, a little, but I've stopped beating myself up over it. And so should you. Look, we both know that these things happen, especially when a Dom and a sub don't know each other very well."

  "But we do know each other, better than anyone I've ever played with," Cornell brought up.

  "I know, but in this case, I think that was exactly what caused the frustration. Both of us wanted it to be perfect right out of the gate, because we know each other and wanted to please the other. I think our expectations of ourselves were a little unrealistic. So we'll try again, but this time, we'll lower expectations."

  "I don't know how to do that," Cornell said, feeling he should be honest to avoid any miscommunication. "I want to be perfect."

  "Why?" Rhys asked, and it didn't sound like an accusation at all. More like genuine interest, someone trying to understand.

  And with his head on Rhys's chest, the man's left arm wrapped around him while his right was still caressing him, Cornell felt safe enough to confess the truth. "I'm scared that if I fail, you won't want to play with me anymore."

  He heard Rhys's sharp intake of breath, and his hand stopped for a second before it resumed. "I'm sorry I gave you that impression," he said, and Cornell was blown away at how he took responsibility even for that. "I should've made clear that your performance, for lack of a better word, has no bearings whatsoever on my desire to play with you. I will do scenes with you for as long as you want me to, regardless of how things go. The only reason that would make me stop is if both of us agreed that we're not a good fit."

  Something happened inside Cornell. Something broke free he hadn't realized was bound. It was a strange feeling, the liberation of something so deep inside you, you were barely aware it existed. To say it was his soul sounded overdramatic, but it had to be pretty close to it. This quiet assurance that Rhys wanted him as a sub no matter what happened, that created such freedom inside him.

  He struggled to find the words to express himself, so in the end, he settled on, "Thank you."

  "So when we play again today, what is the only thing that you have to focus on?"

  With the long breath Cornell expelled, the last tension released from his body. "On obeying you, Sir."

  "That's right, boy. All you have to do is do as I tell you. That's it."

  Cornell's heart soared. Boy. Had there ever been a more precious word?

  * * *

  Despite their talk this morning in bed—and there was a situation Rhys had been dreaming about for years—Rhys knew Cornell was still nervous. They both were. But he wouldn't make the same mistake as last time by pretending they weren't.

  He'd debated whether or not he should use the basement, and in the end, he'd decided not to. He wasn't sure what role the lingering memories of his dad had played in what had happened in the previous scene, but it couldn't hurt to take precautions and avoid a repeat. Even more because of how emotional Cornell had been the day before, grieving so deeply.

  Doing a scene upstairs meant he had more limited options, but then the perfect idea had come to him. Maybe he’d wanted to do something way too elaborate for their first scene, he analyzed in hindsight. He'd wanted to impress Cornell, apparently as much as Cornell had wanted to impress him, but it had been too complicated to start with. So he'd learn from his mistake and keep it simple this time. Simple, but perfectly tailored toward Cornell.

  He asked him to report to the living room an hour after lunch, so Cornell’s food would've had time to settle. Cornell stepped into the room at exactly the agreed time, dressed in the slacks and button-down shirt Rhys had asked him to wear. Cornell had looked at him quizzically when he'd asked, but he hadn't asked any questions, and Rhys had been pleased with that. It was another sign of the growing trust between them.

  Rhys rose up from the couch to greet him. "I want you to stand straight for me, your feet about twenty inches apart, your hands clasped behind your back. Don't pull on them, so you don't put pressure on your shoulder. Now, keep your back straight and bow your head."

  Cornell allowed Rhys to help him find the correct position, and then he stood still, perfectly displaying himself.

  "Ah, that looks beautiful. Please hold that position for now," Rhys said.

  He walked around Cornell, wanting to make sure the position wasn't aggravating his injuries in any way. He did a quick check of his shoulder to make sure Cornell had obeyed him and wasn't putting a strain on the muscles, but they felt relaxed. He caught a slight tremble in his left leg, the one that had been shattered, but that was simply because he wasn't used to standing yet. That would get better over time. They had to build it up.

  "From now on, when you present yourself to me at the beginning of a scene, I want you to take this position to show me respect," Rhys said.

  "Yes, Sir," Cornell said, and Rhys could hear the joy in his voice that he'd been able to please his Dom.


  On impulse, he rubbed his head. "Such a good boy."

  He swore Cornell's face started glowing.

  He walked around him one more time, pleased that this part was working out, then took position behind him. They were close in height, but he had maybe an inch on Cornell, and he loved that, petty as it was. It allowed him to step close to him, pressing his body against him from the back and lower his mouth to Cornell's ear.

  "This time, I'm not going to tell you what we're going to do. That way, you won't have anything else to focus on but what I ask you to do. And you are going to do what I tell you, aren't you?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  Oh, the perfection of those two words coming out of Cornell's mouth. Rhys was dizzy with it all over again. "So if I told you it would please me to see you do a striptease for me, what would you do?"

  He let his teeth graze Cornell's ear lobe, and the man shivered. "I would do it, Sir."

  "And if I told you I wanted you to walk around naked for the rest of the day, so I could fill my need to see you, would you do it?"

  "Yes, Sir," Cornell said, sounding breathy.

  "Would you let me play with your beautifully responsive nipples for a few hours? Find out how close to insanity I can bring you with that?"

  He'd switched to Cornell's other ear, blowing hot breaths over it, then put his teeth into the shell lightly. Cornell trembled against him.

  "Yes, Sir. Whatever you want, Sir."

  "Whatever I want? That's a dangerous thing to promise to your Dom, boy," Rhys said, oh so pleased with Cornell's answers.

  "I trust you, Sir."

  Rhys felt like he'd been shocked with electricity, not the bad kind that only hurt, but the good kind that give you a rush like nothing else. "Ah, what a perfect answer," he praised him.

  He was still standing behind him, but Cornell hadn't broken his posture even once. Rhys ground his hips, slowly circling them so his now iron hard cock rubbed against Cornell's hand. Such a perfect boy, standing still for his master to use him. Someday he would, but today, he had different plans.

  With regret, he stepped back, then walked in front of Cornell, who kept his head bowed. "Arms to your side and raise your head."

  Cornell's eyes were on fire, burning with whatever it was that crackled between them. Rhys reached for the top button of the man's shirt. "Someday, I will let you do a little striptease for me." He flicked open the first button, quickly followed by the second. "And in the summer, when it's hot, I will definitely have you walk around the house naked for a whole day. Or maybe for a whole week, because I like looking at you."

  He opened button after button while talking, revealing Cornell's chest. The man had neatly trimmed chest hair, dark with some gray sprinkled in. Rhys slid his hand over Cornell's chest, pleased when Cornell didn't react other than with a quick intake of breath. He flicked one nipple, then the other, which made Cornell gasp even more.

  "You like that, don't you?"

  "Yes, Sir," Cornell said, his voice thick.

  "Mmm, I'll have to remember that. You know how most Doms tell their subs not to touch their balls or their cock? Maybe I should add your sweet little nipples to the list. What do you think?"

  He saw Cornell swallow before he answered. "If that would please you, Sir."

  Rhys smiled at the perfection of that answer as he gave one last, loving caress over Cornell's chest, then pulled his shirt tails out of his slacks. With his shirt hanging off his shoulders, Cornell looked like he was about to have sex, which was a good look on him, Rhys decided.

  "You look sexy," he told Cornell, slipping his index finger behind his waistband and teasing his sensitive skin there a little. Goosebumps broke out all over Cornell's chest, and his nipples hardened all over again.

  "Thank you, Sir."

  "You know, when you walked into the room, immaculately dressed in that nice shirt and those neat pants, you looked perfectly respectable. Like a serious businessman, a moral cornerstone of society."

  He flicked the clasp of his slacks open with one hand, then roughly shoved his hand down his pants, grabbing Cornell's cock and balls in one bold move. The sound Cornell made was delicious, a mix between a grunt and a squeal. He jerked his hips back for a second, but he could be forgiven for that, as there was not a man on earth who wouldn't have the same reaction.

  "But you're not so moral on the inside, are you? You're quite the dirty boy."

  "Yes, Sir," Cornell breathed.

  Rhys's smile widened as he intensified his grip on Cornell's junk a little. "You like it when another man holds you like this, don't you?"

  Cornell's cheeks were fiery red now, his eyes blazing with need. "Yes, Sir," he managed, but it was clear that it cost him to talk right now.

  He almost had him where he wanted him, which was to be so overcome by all the sensations that he would forget to think. He took a step back, then pulled Cornell forward by his cock. He sought Rhys's eyes to make sure he was allowed to move, and Rhys nodded at him ever so slightly to indicate permission. Another step back, and Cornell followed again. He allowed Rhys to lead him forward by his dick, not once protesting.

  Rhys walked backward until he felt the couch behind him, then sat down. Without saying a word, he unzipped Cornell's pants, shoving them down in one move with his underwear. Cornell's cock slapped against his stomach with a wet sound.

  "No one who sees you like this would still believe you were so respectable, now would they?"

  Cornell bit his lip before answering. "No, Sir."

  "What would they think if they saw you like this, with your pants shoved down and your junk hanging out?"

  "They'd think I was dirty, Sir," Cornell said, his voice dropping to a whisper. But oh, he liked it. If the fire in his eyes and the blush on his cheeks hadn't been enough of an indication, his cock was leaking, so hard it almost quivered.

  Rhys grabbed his cock, spreading the precum with his thumb. That resulted in a deep moan from Cornell. Good, the man had remembered Rhys like to hear his sounds. "Dirty? Or naughty?"

  He fisted Cornell a few times, lightning fast, making him gasp. "Both, Sir. Both!"

  "Perfect answer," Rhys said.

  He let go of his cock and reached for his wrists, pulling him in the right position. With any other sub, he would've yanked them over his lap, but Cornell's body couldn't take that. He needed more support than Rhys's knee as well, since he couldn't put any weight on his knees. This was the perfect solution.

  He pulled him until Cornell got the cue, and he went willingly, lowering himself as Rhys supported his weight until he was settled across his lap, but both his upper body and his legs and feet were resting on the couch.

  "Dirty, naughty boys deserve a spanking, don't they?"

  15

  For a few seconds, Cornell forgot to breathe. A spanking? He almost came at the thought. The fact that he was still half-dressed only contributed to his arousal. There was something inherently dirty about wearing such nice clothes, only to have them shoved aside and be planted face down on a man's lap. And if that wasn't hot enough, the fact that Rhys had thought it through and made sure the position was comfortable for Cornell physically only made it more perfect.

  He drew in a shuddering breath that almost got stuck in his lungs when Rhys's hand boldly squeezed his ass cheeks, as if he'd done it a thousand times before. He loved it. Rhys had found the perfect mix of dirty talk with an edge of humiliation thrown in, and Cornell sucked it up like a sponge.

  "I really like your ass," Rhys said conversationally. "It has the perfect amount of jiggle when I do this."

  He merely tapped it with a light touch that, yes, did make his ass jiggle a bit. If Cornell could've somehow magically increased his body's response, he would've, because right now, he wanted nothing more than to please his Dom.

  "But a dirty, naughty boy like you shouldn't have such a pristine ass, don't you think? I think you deserve a well-spanked ass, brightly red and glowing."

  If Cornell would've be
en able to bring out words, he would've, but by now, he was too far gone to even speak. All he could do was lie there, fully surrendering to whatever Rhys would do. And please, let him do it fast, because Cornell's patience was running out. He needed him, needed that touch, that firm hand that Rhys had promised him.

  "Are you ready?" Rhys asked.

  He gently swatted Cornell's ass again, one little slap on each cheek. It was almost cruel, this sample of what he wanted so much. Oh, wait, Rhys had asked a question, right? That meant Cornell was supposed to answer. He wanted to say yes, but his mind had trouble connecting to his mouth, and in the end, all that came out was, "Please, Sir."

  "How lovely to hear you beg for my touch, boy. You are perfect for me," Rhys said, and Cornell soaked it up, his soul rejoicing in the simple praise.

  "Now, soar for me, my boy. Let it go," Rhys said, his voice warm and firm at the same time.

  Before Cornell could even process what that meant, Rhys's hand came down on his ass with a firm slap. This time it wasn't a sample, a tease, but the start of a solid rhythm of slaps. He built up fast, five slaps on one cheek, five on the other, then going back and forth until Cornell lost count. His ass warmed up instantly, his skin protesting the sting that increased and increased until it took over everything else.

  He was already so close, so hard, what if he…? Soar for me, Sir had said. He had permission to fly. He felt it, the moment his brain decided that this pain was good pain, that it loved this pain, that it wasn't pain, but pleasure. It exploded in his brain first, then radiated outward through his body, this zing, this burst of pure pleasure.

  He made sounds, unintelligible sounds. Groans, moans, keens and whimpers that sounded like somebody else made them. But it was him, rising higher and higher until he could touch the clouds, then even higher until he felt the sun on his face. His eyes pinched shut, he surrendered completely, and then he reached heaven.