Mike's Sags 5

Mike's Saga 5

The knock was short, sharp, and not overly loud. Mike opened the door, knowing it would be Josh. Mike had heard the knock before, each time Josh had visited. Pay attention, boy. I don't expect to have to beat the door down; I expect the door opened immediately with perfect politeness.

Mike opened the door, bracing himself for the usual Hello, boy. Josh seemed to have forgotten Mike's name, or at least on the last few visits he had. Mike had been relegated to the impersonal boy, and Mike knew he should protest. He wasn’t Josh’s boy; he wasn’t anyone’s boy, not now, but somehow there was comfort in the word. He still belonged; he still had a place. He was only taking a short break.

“Hello, boy,” Josh said from the doorway, immediately stepping inside and expecting Mike to fall back.

“Hello, sir.” Mike gave permission; he stepped into the role. 

Josh nodded, his eyebrow lifting slightly, but no words needed to be spoken. They both understood. “Is this the young man who needs to be let in?”

“Yes,” Mike said, dropping the honorific since Josh had referred to Gabe as a young man and not a boy. Josh was older; he was careful and discreet in public. The exchange at the door was different than a direct question in front of a witness.

“Do you know where your key is, or will I need to recode the door?”

Gabe stared at the carpet and shuffled uncomfortably in Josh’s glare.

“Let’s go look,” Josh said, softening his tone. “I’m Joshua Martin.”

“Gabe, Gabe Coral.” Gabe managed to hold out his hand in a limp attempt at a handshake.

“Mr. Coral, either shake my hand or don’t, but no halfway measures. Get your eyes up, or are we playing games?”

“I don’t understand.” The words were mumbled; Gabe’s eyes were still cast down to the neutral colored carpet, his running shoe rubbing back and forth on its surface.

“Gabe.” Josh’s voice was patient, but no less demanding. “Unless you’ve lived your entire life in a Hobbit hole, you understand. Mike wasn’t hiding his status which means he has a good idea of where you stand. So am I letting you in your apartment and stiffly shaking your hand at the door, or do want to know more? It’s up to you.”

Josh didn’t say boy, but Mike heard it in the silence. Gabe glanced at Mike, his eyes wide, a touch frightened, and flecked with something else. His cheeks were red, and he tugged nervously at his sweatshirt.

“Up to you—boy,” Mike added after a second. “Josh is safe and decent.” Mike grinned. “You know, Green Mountain Boy shit and all that. He’ll read you your rights before he kicks you in the balls.”

“I believe someone else started that,” Josh said dryly.

“I did, sir, but you finished it.” Mike grinned and winked, knowing he was heading for danger with Josh, the man without the easy sense of humor. Milton would tease back in that situation. God, why was he thinking of Milton? Talk about broken chemistry. It had never worked between the two of them. 

“Boy, do you need some fresh bruises?”

Mike swallowed hard and tried for his best contrite boy expression. More bruises might be nice, damn nice, but Gabe was turning an interesting shade of crimson while unsuccessfully trying to hide a bulge in his pants. The baby submissive didn’t need a front row seat to Josh really doing it. If Mike pushed harder, it wouldn’t be a little slap that Mike had seen Milton do with Sheldon around a new boy. Josh would take Mike into the bedroom and wail on him. 

“No, sir,” Mike muttered, still in the sharp glare of Josh’s gray eyes.

“I’m happy to oblige,” Josh said, still watching Mike. 

“I’m all right.” Mike pulled his head up and looked Josh in the eye. “I can cope.”

“No one ever said you couldn’t or at least not since that first year, but you don’t have to merely get by. We know what you like, and you have people who love you.”

Shit! Mike blinked back the tears. He wasn’t going to cry, not here, not now. Luke was the one who cried easily, big tears from sad blue eyes.

“Boy.” Josh pulled Mike into a hug, his arm heavy around Mike’s shoulders. “You need to go home.”

Mike leaned against Josh and buried his face in the wool of Josh’s coat. It had been a long time since he’d been held this way, comprehensively with the world shut out. Tilden touched and hugged, but it wasn’t this same heaviness, at least not now. Maybe at first it had felt this way before Mike had pulled away and asserted his independence. He wasn’t that screwed up kid who had hidden under Tilden’s easy competence. He was an adult; he could manage. God, he wanted this.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Josh spoke softly; the question was for Mike’s ears only. 

“No!” Mike pulled away. “I am home. This is where I live.”

“You’re camping here, and we both know it.” Josh grabbed Mike’s chin with one hand, and with the other stabbed a finger at Mike. His voice had slipped into a low growl of dominance. “You are a stubborn boy. The solution is clear, and you refuse to see it, or maybe more accurately you refuse to accept it. You don’t want to admit you want it; you want me to force it, so you console yourself with the idea you were forced. Trust me, boy, if you make me go that far, I will break you wide open. You won’t be standing here talking to me; you’ll be on your knees with your forehead on my boots. Equality of any sort will be a concept that doesn’t apply to you.”

“You wish,” Mike muttered. “That’s your wet dream, isn’t it, old man?”

Mike didn’t have a chance to react. His chest hit the kitchen table at the same time his pants were yanked down. He was half stripped and ass up with a near stranger here. A yell tore from his throat as the first blazing spank landed on his tender flesh. Josh had grabbed a spoon or a spatula or something off the counter.

“Turn on the TV to block the noise,” Josh said calmly as he continue to lay down a blistering line of fire.

The evening news blared through the apartment: a dead body in a dumpster, some protest at city hall, an advertisement for razor blades.

Mike clung to the kitchen table, sobbing as the blows continued with undiminished speed and vigor. Josh kicked Mike’s legs apart, not satisfied with the tougher flesh of his ass. 

“Please. Stop. Sorry,” Mike blubbered. “I’ll be good. Sorry.” Mike put his head down and cried. He couldn’t stop it. He had no say. Josh would stop when he thought Mike had suffered enough.

“Shh. It’s over. We’ve scared Gabe enough.” Josh hand was rubbing under Mike’s shirt, warm and reassuring. “Nothing awful is going to happen, and you won’t chase me away no matter how terrible you act. I’m old and stubborn, and I’m the one with the wooden spoon.”

“Josh!” Mike didn’t know if it was a wail of desperation or some half lucid flight into hysterics.

“Don’t panic. I’ve got you, boy.” Josh kissed the back of Mike’s neck and pulled him to his feet. He dragged the tangle of pants up, and smoothed the rumpled shirt. “Wash your face. We still have dinner.”

“Nooo!”

The spank wasn’t soft or kind. It was brutal and shot Mike’s hips forward.

“I expect absolute obedience. If you’re not ready to give it, you can go back over that table.”

“Please. I’m a wreck.”

“You’ll be fine. No arguing. This is not a debate.” Josh tapped Mike’s sore flesh. “Wash. Now.”

Mike splashed water onto his face. There was no mirror in the kitchen, but he knew what he looked like with swollen, red eyes and tear stained cheeks. He didn’t go out this way, not that he had a choice.

Mike was dragged into the living room where Josh flicked off the TV and looped an arm around a confused and frightened Gabe.

“Dinner, boys.”

Mike waited semi dazed through Josh letting Gabe into his apartment and barking orders about a jacket. The outside air was fresh, cold, and damp. Mike lifted his eyes to see an exasperated Jer opening the truck door.

“Mike!”

Mike dove into Jer’s arms, soaking up the strength of the unreserved and completely unashamed hug. 

“Can you try not to intentionally detonate him?” Jer whispered, his arms tight around Mike.

“Don’t spoil him, Jer. He got less than he deserved. I should take him back to the kind mercy of Milton in chains and scarred by the whip.”

“Josh, you’re scaring the other one. Honey, Josh really won’t leave scars on Mike.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Josh snapped. “He needs to be hurt, and this is Gabe Coral, the innocent caught in the fire storm.”

“Jeremiah Tyler,” Jer said, towing Mike forward as he shook Gabe’s hand. “Don’t let Josh scare you; he can be civilized.”

Mike couldn’t make out Gabe’s mumbling. It went on for several minutes until they were ushered into the truck. Mike stayed buried against Jer, comfortably hidden by the much broader man.

The restaurant was someplace fancy. An eager young man jumped into the truck to valet park it almost before they’d completely rolled to a stop. Staying in the truck wasn’t an option. Mike forced himself out and tried to shake off the memories of the copious tears as the spanks rained down.

They all trailed behind Josh who was walking to the desk as if he owned the place and the three of them were his minions. Josh was known here. The man behind the desk, elegant and dignified in his dark suit, shook Josh’s hand and waved them all to a quiet table looking out over the harbor lights. Wine and appetizers arrived without any apparent request, and Josh ordered for everyone without looking at the menu.

“You may have some,” Josh said, handing Mike a glass of white wine. “How old are you?” Josh asked, turning toward Gabe.

“Twenty.”

With no further comment, Josh poured a glass of sparkling water. Gabe took the glass without protest, his eyes down on the tablecloth, his hand fingering the butter knife.

“Anal retentive,” Mike whispered. “I’d give you some, but my ass asked for a holiday.”

Gabe looked up, startled. His eyes said everything. How could Mike joke about what went on in the kitchen?

“I’m submissive. It’s complicated, but from the looks I’m getting, I’m supposed to shut up and be the perfect dinner guest.”

“This isn’t the place, Mike. I know I frightened your friend, and you can explain later, but now let us enjoy dinner.”

The food was good, fish and seafood pasta in delicate sauces. Jer and Josh talked normally of news and the new houses in Banner and the new teachers at the college. Mike concentrated on eating and sitting still in his chair. His thighs and ass were too tender for this much sitting. Thankfully, Josh ordered coffee and dessert to go, and Mike could relieve the pain in his tender skin. 

“You were good, but I know you’re hurting,” Josh whispered in Mike’s ear as they waited for the same young and overeager valet. “Plus what fun is it to heat a beautiful ass if I can’t enjoyed the squirming.”

“Josh!”

“Quiet. Here’s the truck.”

Not fair. So not fair, but Mike piled into the truck. What could he do? He’d just been played by an expert.

Jer’s voice was soft and directly in Mike’s ear. “Josh always wins, and we want you home.”