Mike's Saga 10

Mike’s Saga 10

“Oh, great! Now he could be stared at by half the doms on the East Coast,” Mike muttered under his breath. He wasn’t surprised that Gordon and Landon had been invited to dinner; they were like vultures on carrion. The slightest discord and Gordon was staring down at you with cold disdain; he could make Milton look jolly. Ryan and Blade were more of a surprise. They were dorm parents, and their schedule wasn’t flexible. They would have had to beg a fellow teacher to cover for them. Blade had probably done the begging; he did precious and needy better than anyone Mike knew. He could convince the school’s president to happily spend a night in a dormitory with a bunch of sniveling freshman. 

Blade and Ryan had the youngsters in their dorm, the kids who were the most distraught about getting packed off to boarding school, because as Blade had put it, “Ryan smiles and the sun comes out. He’s got the best shoulder in three states for a crying fit, and he doesn’t make a teenage boy feel like an idiot for wanting a little cry. If only the administration knew that he practiced his skill for comforting homesick children by beating me to tears on a regular basis.”

Mike wasn’t all that sure that Blade and Ryan’s domestic arrangement was any sort of real secret to the administration, but more of a pretend secret. They all winked and smiled and believed in plausible deniability. Blade moaned about not being able to have a nice beating at school, but Ryan still worked professionally as a dom in the summer and on an occasional weekend and holiday, and with people in the know they were famous for their whipping demonstrations and in great demand for seminars. Mike rattled the chains between the pretty leather cuffs. This was Blade’s gig. Mike hated the damn chains. Milton had put them on after Mike had woken on the sofa all bleary eyed and stiff, and Mike’s complaint had been stifled instantly with a hand on already sore flesh.

“Learn to live with them, boy. I’ve given you plenty of slack.”

Yeah, but he couldn’t dress himself. He’d had to ask Tilden to unfasten them so he could put on a dress shirt, and Tilden had clipped Mike’s wrists to the bed and tied his tie. Protest had earned him another swat, softer than it had been from Milton but still a swat.

Mike rattled his chains again. He wasn’t going to be the life of the party. He buried his hands behind the couch cushions and tried to look casual. Looking casual with bondage equipment wasn’t an easy task.

“Hey.” Ryan dropped his big body onto the couch. “Pouting’s not going to make it any better. You’re already shifting around like you have a hot seat; goading Milton into another round isn’t a good strategy.” 

“Ryan.” Telling him to fuck off probably wouldn’t be a good strategy either. Mike would rather stay hidden in the corner, pouting in peace.

Ryan smiled one of his dazzling grins and kissed Mike’s forehead. “Someone feeling resentful? How bad was it? I see the chains. They look good on you.”

“They are not my fashion statement of choice,” Mike snarled.

“Hey,” Ryan said gently and caught Mike’s chin in his large hand. “You’re a submissive, sometimes submission requires submitting when it’s not the most fun or not your favorite. It’s about allowing yourself to be vulnerable, allowing yourself to be under the command of the dominant at his convenience, and bondage makes you feel vulnerable.”

“I don’t feel vulnerable; I feel like an idiot.”

“You’ll feel a lot more like an idiot if I freshen the red color of your ass to wipe that snarl out of your voice. I’m a dominant. I may play Mr. Nice Guy, but I'm more than capable of making you suffer."

He wouldn't? Ryan had never physically touched Mike except in the friendly way of two close buddies: fist bumps, a quick hug, a squeeze on the shoulder, or fingers ruffling his hair. Mike looked up into those brilliant blue eyes that were suddenly icy and determined. 

"Mike, do you need force from me? I was briefed over what went on today. If you need another bad ass to join the party, I'm happy to play. I bet you scream beautifully, music to a sadist's ears. I know there's a a paddle in the second drawer over there and a strap in the table by the fireplace, and I have several whips in my car. Do you need a demonstration?"

"No, sir." The words were right, but Mike knew the tone was wrong. There was still too much snarl and snark, and the sir had been sarcastic. Ryan lived with Blade; he'd know the difference.

"Do you want to try that again?"

"No, I'm getting my ass beat no matter what. I might as well go for the full fireworks."

"God help Milton." Ryan grabbed the chain between Mike's wrists, jerked him to his feet, and threw him over the back of the sofa. "Safeword, boy. What is it?"

Mike gritted his teeth as his chest hit the sofa. He was still sore. This was public. Gordon and Landon were circulating somewhere. Gordon had that new kid with him, funny name, big eyes, and hair jelled into spikes. Welcome to the Green Mountain Boys. We beat our stubborn boys several times a day.

"Safeword." Ryan's hand tapped Mike's ass.

"Kathmandu." Mike dropped his head. This was happening; Ryan hadn't been bluffing. 

A yelp was torn from Mike's lips. Ryan hit hard. It didn't matter that it was over Mike's pants. It fucking hurt. Mike couldn't stop the tears. They pooled in his eyes and flowed down his cheeks. He hurt. He was in the living room getting his ass beat. He was a submissive getting his due. Mike sighed and hung limply against the sofa."

"Good boy." Ryan pulled Mike up and kissed his forehead. His arm wrapped around Mike heavy and reassuring. "You make me do that again it will be on your bare ass, boy."

"It hurt enough already." Mike snuggled against Ryan's chest, suddenly not caring that he was taking comfort in public. "Hold me."

"I've got you. You fall hard. How long have you been hiding this from Milton or Tilden?"

Mike didn't have to answer. He wasn't sure he could have answered; his brain felt like mush. Leaning against Ryan was about all he could mange.

"I've got him." Milton's grip was strong and reassuring; his arm heavy and right as it wrapped around Mike's shoulders. "What happened?"

"It's the only way he knows to ask to go back down,” Ryan said. “I obliged him. He's lovely to spank. Someday maybe he'll give me the pleasure of showing him the magic of the whip. Keep him close tonight, Milton. He needs it."

Mike should mind that they were talking about him, but he couldn't muster the energy to protest. It was warm and comfortable in Milton's arms. The world out there could wait.

"He must have been miserable alone. He had to about break himself in half to realize the depth of his denial. Silly boy." Ryan kissed the top of Mike's head. "This is a safe place to let yourself be submissive. Let yourself go. We'll catch you. This room is crawling with dominants. No one will let you crash and burn."

Mike just kept his faced buried in Milton's blazer. He should respond that he was fine, that he didn't need a bushel of dominants looking after him, but somehow it all felt OK.

"Kneel for me." Milton's hand pressed against Mike's shoulder. "This is your only duty--to stay on your knees with your eyes down and your mouth shut. We can call it deep submission if you want. You can't truly find deep submission yet without a real beating, but imitation will do for now."

The floor pressed against Mike's knees. He lowered his head and stared at Milton's shoes. Milton's hand played over Mike's neck and back, stroking him toward Milton's thigh. Milton and Ryan had sat back down on the sofa. Blade threw himself onto Ryan's lap and was kissed thoroughly before being chased off with a friendly swat. Tilden came over for a second. His hand traced over Mike's head.

"He's fine," Milton said, his voice deep and reassuring. "He's not to respond to you. I put him in deep submission. He needs only to kneel and be silent and invisible. How's the new kid with Gordon holding up? I got an earful from Gordon about my domestic hiccups keeping me away from my duties as head of the Green Mountain Boys. At least according to him, he and Landon are much too old to train another submissive."

Ryan snorted. “Landon and Gordon love having a pretty young boy around the house. Don’t let them tell you otherwise.”

“Who is he?” Milton asked.

“A grandson of a business colleague,” Tilden said. "He's been in some trouble, nothing criminal, but enough that family name and money are being stretched to keep him out of trouble."

"He seems to have latched onto Sheldon," Milton said.

"He tried Austin first, but Austin looked at him as if he were some insane creature who escaped from the local zoo. Sheldon's been more accommodating."

"Sheldon will understand him," Milton said.

Mike glanced up. He was supposed to keep his eyes down, but Milton was occupied. Sheldon and the new kid were on the far side of the room. Sheldon snatched several shrimp from a silver bowl, tossing one to the new kid and popping two in his own mouth. Sheldon was relaxed and animated, and the boy's hazel eyes never left Sheldon's face. The kid was pretty in a delicate way with fine features that were almost too perfect.

"Eyes down."

Mike had forgotten Ryan. The whack on the head had been more friendly than punitive, but Mike lowered his eyes to the floor.

"I'll let you know if anything good happens," Ryan said easily, but Sheldon really is good at this. He has the new boy totally charmed."

"Two brats," Milton said dryly.

"I haven't seen Sheldon brat since you put the collar on him. Am I missing something?" Ryan asked.

"No, I'm the one who was missing something. He might as well have hired a ten meter high freeway sign with flashing lights. I'm supposed to be good at this."

"He wasn't exactly making his signals clear," Ryan said. "I thought he was doing nothing more than topping from the bottom and you were indulging him. He wanted complete control. That level of submission is frightening to ask for even with Sheldon's experience."

"He was always happiest when he was in trouble. I should have seen it. I missed it because the parts our friend here likes so well Sheldon doesn't tolerate." Milton ran his hand down Mike's back. "This is the one who will eat up the erotic side, but strangle me if I counted out his lunch money. I'd never seen slavery without it being centered on the most extremes of the erotic. I couldn’t wrap my mind around that depth of submission with it only brushing on the erotic and only that because I insist."

"Doug and your grandfather," Landon said, his feet stopping centimeters from Mike's knees. "When you were a child they hid it, and they played it close even in your adulthood. Your grandfather always knew how to handle Sheldon. Their relationship was entirely enmeshed in power, but your grandfather didn’t own a dildo or a set of handcuffs. Eyes down," Landon snapped at Mike. "You do realize your boy isn't close to his submission."

"He hasn't provoked Gordon to find a cane, so I'm currently satisfied."

"I'd chain his hands behind his back and blindfold him. He needs to focus on his submission, not everywhere else."

"He's at his limit."

"No, you haven't touched his limit. Make him suffer."

"Landon!"

"Milton," Landon shot back in the same tone. "I want him alone after dinner. I won't hurt him, but I will explain the meaning of darkness."

Mike knew he had his eyes up and that they were as wide as Austin's in his desperate pleading moments. Landon had always seemed the tamer of the two, the wise, mature submissive who topped with a gentle guiding hand. 

"Do you not require your submissives to make at least a slight effort in proper decorum?"

"I'm not punishing for fear and confusion."

"Sometimes fear and confusion is part of the submissive thrill. Mike's a big boy. Let him enjoy that side of himself. You used to do it for me."

Milton's eyes rested on Landon for a moment, but he didn't speak; instead a corner of his lip turned up in a slow, wry smile, and he inclined his head in a polite nod.

"Such a smart boy. Gordon might not have to cane you senseless after all."

"Landon," Tilden growled, a possessive hand shielding Milton. "No one touches Milton"

"That is between Milton and Gordon. Sometimes it is needed."

"Stop it." Milton's voice filled the small space between the two combatants. "I have no need or desire for a set of stripes today. Sometimes it's a part of me, but I am not conflicted nor do I need the escape. Tilden helped earlier in his own way." A crimson blush rose on Tilden's cheeks, and he dropped his head in a useless attempt to hide his embarrassment. "I need help with the logistics."

"You're not planning the Normandy invasion," Landon said.

"Does someone need trouble?" Milton's voice was hard and cool.

Landon heard the unspoken. He stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back. "No, sir."

"Thank you, Landon."

"My pleasure."

"I won't rat you out to Gordon unless you want me to,” Milton said, “but I would like you to try to explain to Mike the mechanics of graceful submission with strength and power."

“I will try,” Landon said, his eyes raking over Mike, “but surrender comes from within. He holds the key himself. He must let you see his pleasures, his fears, and his vulnerabilities. Those will be the passcode to the kingdom. It’s frightening to give so much of yourself, to give enough to know that your lovers can make you fly but that they can also hurt you in unimaginable ways, to stand not only physically naked but also mentally naked.”

“He needs a role model.”

“I’m a senior citizen, and I’m a switch. You don’t think he’s a switch?”

“In play only. Submission handed to him is even more frightening than giving it himself.”

“I’m here you know. I’m not deaf or stupid, and English is my native language.” Mike lurched to his feet.

“Get down, boy.” Milton had stood just as quickly. Any gentleness in his eyes and face had vanished. He stared at Mike with black fire spitting from eyes that had gone impossibly dark.”

“Let me get this.” Ryan’s hands were already on Mike’s shoulders. He was already pushing him away.

Tilden’s study was quiet and calm after the sudden roar that had consumed Mike’s body. Mike clutched the edge of the sofa, his knees shaking, his breaths coming way too fast. This was Tilden’s study. This was safe. It had a jumble of Russian textbooks on the desk and colorful propaganda posters on the wall. 

“Don’t arouse the Neanderthal dominant in Milton unless you want beaten into a quivering puddle. You didn’t look like you wanted that at the moment.”

Mike sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady nerves that he hadn’t realized he had. “Thanks,” he said in a shaky voice. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing. Well, at least nothing that letting yourself be the submissive you really are wouldn’t cure.” Ryan pulled Mike down onto the sofa, his arm heavy over Mike’s shoulders.

“What if I can’t be?”

“You can.” Ryan kissed Mike’s forehead. “You came home.”

“I came home because I felt like a fraud. Here I was giving advice to a baby submissive while I was doing exactly the opposite.”

“Baby submissive?”

“Gabe. Josh knows about him.”

“Poor kid. Josh isn’t exactly warm and friendly.”

“He’s OK.”

“Do you like what Josh’s offers?” Ryan ran his hand down Mike’s back. “His dominance—it’s not the most sexual.”

“I wouldn’t want to live with him.” Mike buried his face in his hands. Josh just took it. There wasn’t all this chatting. Mike didn’t want to analyze himself; he just wanted to be whatever the hell he was.

“He doesn’t ask?”

“Yeah.”

“Milton wants to ask too much. He wants you to analyze your submission.”

“How in the fuck do I analyze something I don’t understand? I just want to be Mike, a happy and normal human being. I’m an adult. I don’t want someone organizing my work schedule or nagging me about my eating habits, but sometimes I just want to feel and not to think. I want to fight, but, God, then I want to surrender. I want to be hit, but then I think how wrong it is that I want to be forced and hurt and that I’m stupid enough to expose myself.”

“Mike, submission isn’t one size fits all; dominance isn’t either. Blade is an intense submissive in play. He surrenders entirely to my will, and we enjoy every moment of it. Blade is also an intense sexual being. His sexuality flirts close to the surface at all times, and we often flit in an out of our roles during everyday life. It’s a confusing and tangled mosaic, and sometimes we get everything crossed. Sometimes he’s playing, sometimes he wants me as his friend and lover and not a dominant, and sometimes he wants my dominance in real life. It is the third that gives me indigestion and has me calling Milton. The third is what Milton has with Sheldon and even some with Austin, and where you are desperate and confused.The third involves places where I won’t go without explicit permission, places where safewords became fuzzy, places where your submissive streak has long left the bedroom.”

“I don’t want managed,” Mike said softly. 

“Ever?” Ryan asked.

Mike ran his fingers over his thigh, picking at an imaginary thread. “They managed me in the beginning. They controlled my alcohol intake, my bedtime, and my study habits. I’m not a flakey college kid anymore. I don’t need that; I don’t get off on it sexually. I just feel belittled.”

“They don’t do that now, do they?”

“No.”

“They stopped dominating when you stop forgetting to turn in your homework assignment?”

Mike nodded slowly.

“Ah, I see it now.”

At least Ryan saw it. Mike couldn’t see anything but confusion. He was a submissive who was resentful of submission. He loved Milton and Tilden, but banking and timekeeping weren’t a mystery. He didn’t want to be parented. 

“Mike, you were very young when you came to Milton and Tilden, both in years and in understanding of your kink. They used your kink, not as a plaything or a means of sexual gratification, but as something you could grab onto and keep yourself afloat while you grew up. You submitted very deeply without understanding the ramifications or even truly understanding your own needs. Milton and Tilden are careful. They withdrew as you started to resist. The problem is that they withdrew for the wrong reasons. You need submission, real submission not an hour game in the playroom every weekend, but you don’t need it dressed in misbehavior or a guide to good living. You need it dressed in pleasing your dominants and submitting to their will. You know how to get enough sleep and brush your teeth.”

“I’ll never get it right.”

“Patience, boy.” Ryan swatted Mike’s thigh. “Talking might be the place to start. You tell Milton and Tilden that rules about bedtime and food and whatever else don’t make you find your submissive core. They make you feel belittled and resentful. You tell them what gets you hot and desperate. You tell them what makes you calm down and feel your submission beyond the erotic. You play as hard as you need; Milton can keep up, but you also live as hard as you need. I tread lightly with Blade, but I’m still there. I’m still the dominant. Milton treads heavily with Sheldon. He is the master, and he will always be more of a master than I will ever be. I learned to dominate in the playroom; Milton learned to dominate at Gordon’s knee.The Green Mountain Boys take their dominance into real life. Milton may be more careful and more articulate of the differences, but he is ultimately still a master. He’s a sexual dominant, and he gets off on dominating, but his dominance is beyond that. He’s Sheldon’s master, not because of the erotic, but because of something much deeper, something that is far more dangerous and far more complicated, something that both frightens and entices you.”

“I’m not a slave.”

“No, you’re not. Either is Blade, but sometimes I must take my dominance beyond the obvious scene. It’s the dominance that bleeds into real life that sets up the most erotic and dramatic scenes. It’s through my knowledge of Blade as the real man that I can make him fly and that I can push his limits. I won’t let him hide ever. It’s too dangerous. You can’t hide, Mike. That is what Milton is trying to teach you; that is why he spoke openly in front of you. He knew you were listening. He was trying to teach you about yourself in a way that is less abrasive and less confrontational. He can beat that knowledge into you, but make sure you want it that way.” Ryan rubbed the back of Mike’s neck, brisk and comforting. “Let’s go have dinner. You can watch me drop Blade for tonight. We’re both working, and I have to put him in headspace. He’s a beautiful sight, bound and on his knees.”