Green Pastures 11

Chapter 11

Milton hadn’t consciously risen from the sofa or walked to the bedroom, but now he stood at the door which was half open. The bed was crumpled and in disarray, the usual Austin morning. He always ended up with more covers on the floor than on the bed.

“They’re pretty. You have to take a look at them.” Austin’s voice rose from deep inside the room.

“They hurt,” Luke whined, his voice sounding closer to the boy of ten years ago than to the man who was now Milton’s colleague on Banner’s faculty.

“Don’t be a wimp. You like the cane. He gave you exactly what you wanted. You can’t tell me you don’t imagine him all stern and schoolmaster like. It’s your fucking fantasy. He gives it to you, and you have a freak out. You touched yourself when you weren’t supposed to, and you got a pleasure beating. You should thank your lucky stars and kiss his feet. He would have tortured me for real if I’d played that game with him. He’d have chained my hands and frozen my cock off with ice or some other horror. You get pretty little stripes and a naughty schoolboy scene.”

“He chewed me out.”

“You’re subbing for him now. You got yourself off without his permission. Hello! That’s how you piss off your dom. He gave you a baby sub lecture on not disobeying and punished you in a way that shouts it’s all forgiven. He won’t be half that nice again. You’re supposed to at least try to follow his directives.”

“It wasn’t nice. I didn’t like it.”

Austin snorted. “Come on, you’re a sub. We like it. Big strong dom putting us in our place. We might squirm and cry and feel guilty as shit if we’ve really fucked it up, but we like it. Just admit it and move on. It’s not rocket science.”

“It’s just…” Luke’s voice faltered. “It’s so hard now. It used to be easy.”

“What do you mean?”

There was a long silence. Milton knew he shouldn’t be listening; eavesdropping wasn’t worthy of a master, but he couldn’t pull his feet way. Luke was guarded with him; something he at least partially abandoned with Austin.

“It’s nothing. It was before your time.”

“The baby never gets to know anything.”

Milton imagined the pout on Austin’s face. He could manipulate anyone when he half tried.

“Tilden punished me when I disobeyed or was foolish or self-destructed. It was so easy and so right.”

“Tilden’s not a dominant.”

Something rattled; Luke’s hand must have struck something. “Don’t think I don’t know. Milton rubs his face in it all the time.”

“No, he doesn’t. Tilden likes it.”

“Whatever.”

“Luke, don’t be so unhappy. Don’t run away, not like Mike.”

Milton couldn’t hear the answer, the voices hidden by running water. He retraced his steps down the hall until he was back at the stairs. He turned and walked with a heavy tread to the room. They were still in the bathroom. Milton straightened the bed and sat on the edge. He linked his hand around his knee and waited.

“Luke,” Milton said gently as the slim form exited the bathroom.

Luke turned his head which in the past would have hidden all his expression with his golden curls. Now with much shorter hair, nothing hid the flush of his face or the desperate insecurity that flashed across his blue eyes.

“Come here.”

Thankfully Luke came because Milton hadn’t calculated ahead to Luke running out the door or simply refusing to move, both distinct possibilities and both disasters if they had occurred.

“Hey,” Milton said, trapping Luke between his spread knees. He rested his hands firmly on the boy’s shoulders. “This is way too much angst for something that is supposed to be fun. What can I do?”

Luke’s blue eyes searched Milton’s face before falling to the floor. He shuddered once but swallowed whatever emotion was trying to escape and managed a calm, but hoarse tone. “I’m no good at this.”

“There is no right or wrong way, only the way that doesn’t make us both miserable. We currently seem to be drowning in the lake of misery, and I for one would like a life raft. Are we going to make it to shore, or are you going to choose drowning and take me with you?”

“I might as well drown.”

“Why?” Milton shifted a hand from a shoulder to grasp Luke’s chin and raise his head. “What makes you think you deserve to be abandoned?”

“I’m no good. I come apart at everything. You want a submissive, not a flaming idiot who’s afraid of his own shadow.”

“Do you love Tilden?”

“Oh, God, yes.”

“And I unfortunately come with Tilden,” Milton said with a rueful smile. “That’s what this comes down to, doesn’t it? I prowl this house, and you’re out of rocks to hide under.”

“You…” Luke broke off and tried to back out of Milton’s hold.

“Someday I’m going to start beating you every time you trail off in a conversation just at the important part. We actually might be able to communicate then, but let me try my intuition for a moment. I’m not the sort of dominant you would choose, or perhaps more accurately I’m the sort of dominant that inhabits your fantasy, but scares you silly when I get close. After all it took me one evening to get you to masturbate without my permission. I must have hit some pretty hot fantasies of yours for such fast results.”

Luke flushed a darker red and squirmed.

“My perfect gentleman,” Milton said with a rumble in his chest that was suppressed laughter. “Coy and shy has it appeals, but not at the moment. You’re living in a complex relationship with a man who half terrorizes you. Telling me the truth is imperative. You might not believe it, but I’m trying not to hurt you. I’m not oblivious to the difficulties of your situation here. We’ve danced around these edges from the time Tilden and I came clean to ourselves and to you. You had every right to be angry, resentful, jealous, or whatever negative emotion that floated around your head, but you stayed. You leaned on my support while resenting it at the same time. That’s over now. You are my submissive. You live with my rules and my expectations. This one foot in, one foot out, is finished.” Milton ran his thumb down Luke’s smooth cheek. “You gave yourself away this morning. No matter how many words you string together, no matter how much intellectually you might wish it’s not so, you are a submissive and you are attracted to me as something more than your kind uncle.”

“You entrapped me.”

“I made it easy, but I didn’t force you against your will. You want this. No one here is going to tell you that you’re wrong for wanting it. I can do this without feeling like a closet abuser. Just let yourself go, Luke.”

“I shouldn’t…”

“You shouldn’t get sexually excited from being dominated? If you don’t, it’s abuse. It’s that simple, Luke, and there is no shame in finding it a bit exciting. It doesn’t mean I can’t do the other bits about security and guidance and all those other pretty and rather scary things you like. I actually can do those when I know you find it exciting or stimulating and scary in all the right ways. I can physically punish a participating submissive. I’m sure not physically punishing anyone who doesn’t meet that description.  And don’t fear that since you like it that it will never be punishing. You’ll know when you’ve crossed the line. I can make it plenty punishing when needed. Not that I think you’re that type. For you I think it’s more a fantasy; big bad dom will scorch my ass if I don’t do x,y, and z, but if I wasn’t here you’d make yourself do x,y, and z. It’s just more fun with someone breathing down your neck.”

“Reassuring,” Luke mumbled, swallowing the word as if he hadn’t meant to speak.

“That too.” Milton stood up, kissed the top of Luke’s head, and whispered in his ear, “Are we finishing our little scene out by me putting you in a cage, or do you want an out?”

“Milton!”

“I think we do it. A reminder that you belong to me.”

“Will it hurt?”

“I’m not going to be cruel and use spikes or anything. That’s not your style, so no it shouldn’t hurt, It’s just a frustrating reminder of who owns your pleasure. It will stay on until tomorrow morning and don’t think I won’t torture you a bit tonight. Nothing like denying a boy his pleasure when he moans for relief.” Milton stroked his hand down Luke’s abdomen and hovered over the clothed groin. “Are you game?”

Luke ran his tongue over his lips, a nervous flick that spoke of a sensuality that he buried in denials. “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” Milton cupped Luke’s neck with his hand and leaned over him. “Just a word for the wise, if you ever tell me again that your submission is not sexually driven, I will beat you with that cane, not play with you. I don’t accept dishonesty from my submissives. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Luke managed after an agonizing few seconds of silence.

“Good. Now let’s get you taken care of.”

 Note to the readers:

Currently this is the end of this story and the end of RC Verse. I won't say there will never be more, but nothing comes to mind at the moment. This was my small effort to balance the entire arc by returning to Luke and Tilden. I wanted to bookend the entire series by having it start and finish with Tilden and Luke.

Green Pastures 10

Green Pastures Chapter 10

Milton tightened his arm around Luke and pressed the blond head to his chest. What was he doing with this boy? He could read his own at a glance, even Mike who’d resisted everything but the physical outlet of his submission, but Luke left him baffled. Yes, he’d manipulated the masturbation sequence. Forbid it and they flock like children to candy. Milton knew that. The religious extremists might never figure it out, but anyone not blinded by ideology knew the trick of that sort of manipulation. Only he hadn’t expected it to take only hours or for Luke to shatter.

He’d been irritated with Luke, angry in fact. The damn boy lived in some insane world of lies and fantasy, but he couldn’t brutalize this kid who was shaking in his arms. Pity he couldn’t be that fantasy dominant of Luke’s imagination, knowing just how to react and never concerned with his own feelings. He was flesh and blood and a confusion of mixed emotions, greedy pride at breaking the kid open and genuine concern for the boy who trembled in his arms. Surprisingly he felt almost no sexual arousal. He should. He’d wrung the admission from Luke. He’d conquered Luke, and he was thinking how much he’d prefer to have Austin in his arms, Austin who didn’t have all these crazy hang-ups. He had to do this for Luke, find something that would work for both of them. Tilden loved this boy.

“Six of the best, my dear lad. Over the chair and hang onto the seat.”

English schoolboy fantasies weren’t Milton’s idea of fun. He knew the scenario well enough, strict headmaster and naughty pupil. Milton didn’t dislike the cane. It left pretty marks which were important remembrances to many submissives and dominants and it allowed for a precision of blows as well as little physical contact. It was the little physical contact that had made the cane popular in Victorian England; the lecherous headmaster could pretend that it was entirely punishment.

He wasn’t really punishing Luke here, not for touching himself that had been part of the game. This punishment was part of the game; he had to make Luke see that. His words had been real and punishment enough for all the lying. Luke would have to work that out on his own; Milton couldn’t fix it with a few swings of the cane. Luke had to face his own hard truths. He was as thoroughly submissive as any of the others, and he had to own up to it. Milton couldn’t beat that into him, wouldn’t beat it into him. His words were as far as he’d go.  Those had been real; the punishment wouldn’t be. Lying to your dominant and to yourself was insanely stupid and dangerous. Without the complications of their family, he’d released that sort of submissive and feel nothing but relief, but that avenue was closed to him, and maybe he’d had a hand in this disaster. He’d sat on the periphery and watched, rather than wading in and bringing to the surface what he suspected lay underneath.  

Milton smoothed down the seat of Luke’s trousers, glad the boy wasn’t in jeans. Wool flannels would better fit the fantasy but khakis would do. He took his distance and tapped the cane twice on the presented backside.

“Be brave, boy.”

Milton wasn’t swinging hard, and he was using the junior cane. He’d leave a neat five bar gate for Luke to admire, but no terrible pain, warm and tender to the touch in a few hours, but nothing more. He laid down each stroke, waiting between the strikes so the anticipation could build. Luke was a pretty boy as he grimaced and fought to keep still. Pity it wasn’t Austin or Sheldon over that chair. Luke squawked hard as Milton laid down the last strike, crossing the other ones and putting a touch more power in it—real punishment for Luke’s damn tortures or as much as Milton would dare. 

“No more, boy. Get yourself together,” Milton said with suitable brusqueness for a headmaster. He slid a tissue box toward Luke and turned away to give him privacy. Prepared, he would have brought a handkerchief, more suitable to the era.

Luke wiped his face and blew his nose. He stood, his head down, his face flushed from embarrassment and tears.

“Back to your mates. You have something to show them now.”

Luke’s expression was lost. He turned, choking back a sob, and shuffled toward the door.

The kid didn’t get it. He didn’t know. Milton reached out and grabbed Luke’s arm. He yanked the boy into his chest.

“What sort of headmaster hugs his pupil? One who wants to be run out of town with flaming torches.” Milton kissed the blond hair. “That was a scene, Luke. I’m not happy about all the deception you’ve put all of us through, but I’m sure not taking a cane to your backside for that. I prefer not to be an abusive bastard. I’m not angry that you got off, not for real, not for getting off. I was angry about the dishonesty, but I spoke to you. You’re an adult, it was finished at that.” Milton tightened his arms and leaned over Luke, almost covering him with his body. “Well, maybe I’m still a little irritated you disobeyed your dominant. Submissives are supposed to be obedient.”

“You were angry.”

Luke’s voice was small and hesitant. Milton bit back his irritation. This wasn’t an act; he reminded himself. Luke didn’t get it. How he could be blind after all these years mystified Milton, but he was going to try to find patience. Tilden loved this boy. Milton couldn’t just tell him that he was a disaster and possibly dangerous as a submissive.

“I was angry about the years we spent circling each other, about the deception in our relationship,” Milton said in his best professor voice. “Caning you wasn’t about that anger. I caned you, so you knew that I wasn’t going to push you out of this relationship. I will talk to you, both of us as adults, and it will not be pleasant. You will face up to the realities of your submission, but those realities aren’t addressed with a cane. Those sort of lies don’t get to hide behind roleplaying and the formulated forgiveness of discipline play. I can’t do it. If I touched you for the number of times I wanted to wring your neck, you’d need to call the police on me because you’d be battered. You keep asking me to batter you. I won’t go there. I thought you were finally starting to understand, but I guess you still don’t read me, or you read me as badly as I read you.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Tilden loves you.” Luke shifted in Milton’s arms and tried to pull away. Milton hung on tighter, easily overpowering Luke and keeping him tucked close.

“That’s not an answer,” Luke said, still fighting against Milton’s strength.

“Luke, if I didn’t love you, I’d beat you.” Milton guided them both to the sofa, an awkward walk with his legs straddling a struggling Luke. He sat down and pulled Luke on top of him. “You want to make me a cruel, abusive SOB, and I don’t much like that. In fact I hate it, and I don’t much like it when you refuse to hear anything I’m saying and you stay stubbornly lost in your own fantasy. I’m trying to meet you halfway because I know what you mean to Tilden, but I don’t feel any reciprocity from you. It’s a problem.” Milton ran his fingers through Luke’s hair. “I don’t much like schoolboy scenes. That was for you.”

Luke had the courtesy to be quiet for several long minutes. He was a sweet and sensitive boy. Milton knew that. He shouldn’t want to be blatantly cruel, but Luke made Milton want to throttle him for real.

“I should go,” Luke said softly. “I don’t belong here.”

“Why? You love Tilden. None of us want you to leave.”

“You do.”

“No, Luke, I want you to stop asking me to be something I cannot be. I don’t want you to leave.”

“You’re frustrated with me.”

“Yes, but I’ll live. Luke.” Milton grasped Luke’s chin and lifted his head. “I’m stubborn to a fault. I can manage you as a submissive, but can you manage me as your dominant? I forced you into an admission that you didn’t want to admit even to yourself. I’ll force you there every day because that is the only way I will dominate. If I were your fantasy white knight, I wouldn’t give you choices or explain my perspective. I’d wreck your sense of self and make you believe you have no choice. I won’t do that to you, but I also won’t suffer your injustices toward me silently. You love Tilden. I come with Tilden, all of me, including the parts you hate. Make your choice because this halfway bit is making everybody suffer, and for all the times you drive me wild, I know you are not cruel. You don’t want to hurt Sheldon and Austin, and you especially don’t want to hurt Tilden.”

“You left yourself out,” Luke said, his blue eyes flickering to Milton’s face and back to his lap.

“Yes, I did.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You get pretty angry that I can’t be your fantasy.” Milton paused and rubbed his thumb over Luke’s throat. “You hurt me.”

Luke swallowed, an audible gulp and a jerk of his throat. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to.”

“Luke, you wouldn’t be here if I thought it was intentional. I’m not a saint. In fact I’m too tired and too worn for this now. Talk to Sheldon. He’s good with the complicated and confused boys. He’ll talk your through it. Go on now.”

Luke stood and wiped his face with his sleeve, looking very much like a lost and punished child. “I’m sorry. I—“

“I know, Luke. It’s not all your fault. I’m guilty also. Go on now. Give us both time.”

Luke took two steps toward the door and looked back over his shoulder. “The cage should I, sir?”

“Your choice,” Milton said without the energy to help Luke make the choice. He’d tried. He wasn’t the saint Luke wanted or needed.

*

“How badly did you screw that up?”

“Sheldon.”

“Yes, Master, I can tell, and Austin grabbed Luke and tucked him into bed with the pink stuffed elephant for a pillow. He’ll live and maybe he’ll figure out how to articulate something about his submission instead of sitting around like a bump on the log.” Sheldon came across the room and put his hands on Milton’s shoulders. “This isn’t all on you, Master.”

Milton shook his head, tilted his head back, and looked into Sheldon’s green eyes. “I know Luke. I should have known he wouldn’t understand.”

“Didn’t or pretended not to? I know the way Luke operates.”

“He didn’t. He missed all the signals. It wasn’t supposed to be cruel. He was supposed to understand that I’d set him up to fail and that I forgave him for that as long as he’d be honest with me and with himself.”

“Back up. I’m not understanding.” Sheldon walked to the front of the sofa and sank into the worn cushions next to Milton. He spread his hand over Milton’s knee and squeezed once. “Master, talk to me, please.”

Milton gave Sheldon a tired smile. “You’re so good to me.”

Sheldon leaned over and brushed his lips against Milton’s. “I love you. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

“That’s my line,” Milton said with another attempt of a smile.

“In this crazy family, it’s all our line.” Sheldon leaned closer, his weight reassuring against Milton’s chest. “So where did the wheels fall off?”

“Trying to dominate Luke.”

“That’s the cop out answer.”

“Sheldon,” Milton said with a half growl, “I’m the master here.”

“And we both know exactly when it’s time for me to be your lover, your confident, and your friend, and not just a slave. This is one of those times, Master.”

“You are always my lover, confident, and friend as well as my slave. They are not mutually exclusive. You give me great pleasure as my slave, but I don’t want you to lose your humanity when you go to your knees for me.”

“I don’t. I gain yours.”

“Sheldon!”

“I know exactly what I was when I decided to be rescued by the big, strong dominant professor. I was on a one-way ticket to disaster. Back then you didn’t worry about where all the lines were drawn. You just put my life in order and I suffered the consequences when I made chaos. I didn’t understand why I made chaos. It took me years to bow my neck and wear your collar. You may see all those pretty lines and boundaries you want to draw, but sometimes we just want someone in charge.”

“Sheldon, what are you saying?”

Milton stared at Sheldon, his eyes drinking the perfection of the man who met his brown eyes with a steady green gaze. Sheldon was as beautiful and vivacious as the first day he’d met him, determined and self-assured now rather than recklessly trying to charm the world. Sheldon knew his own power and he used it now, deliberately and expertly.

“I can guess you two got your lines crossed.”

“I forced him into an admission of the sexual nature of his submission.”

“That’s not going to hurt him. I told him that when I saw him rubbing like a cat on your legs.”

“He didn’t understand the punishment wasn’t real. I’d already chewed him out for all his deceptions. I wanted him to know I’d forgiven him.”

“What did you do?”

“I caned him, all very school boy. I thought it was obvious. I started to send him away just as a headmaster would do, and he fell apart. He’d thought I was punishing him for real.”

Sheldon made a muted groaning sound and shook his head. “Of course he did, Master. You caught him in a real deception; he wanted real punishment no matter if it turns your stomach. He has a pain tolerance of almost zero and Tilden used to spank him for real wrongs. Next time he spends years lying to you, spank him black and blue. He’ll get that and feel better.”

“I’m not beating on him.”

“Hello, Master, I’ve had a red ass for my stupidity more than a few times.”

“You were engineering that.”

“Later,” Sheldon said softly. He grasped Milton’s hands and kissed his knuckles. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this because I’ll make you feel sick.” He rubbed his thumb over the spot he’d kissed. “I didn’t know at first. I just wanted someone to stop me, to give me the control normal people seem to have, and you did that. You made me feel better. It was only much later that I put all the pieces together. Being head of the Green Mountain Boys and having Austin has made you see the lines far bolder. They were fuzzy before, and I needed them fuzzy. When I drove the car drunk that was for real. You can’t tell me otherwise.”

“It was,” Milton said in a voice that didn’t break a whisper, “to my eternal regret. It was abuse.”

“No, it was a cold shower that I needed. If I’d rolled off your lap or run away or even struggled for real, you would have stopped. I wanted punished. I needed punished. The strength of it scared me. The anger was all controlled, but it was there. I could feel it. I knew what I’d done to you—your terror and hurt. I knew that you loved me and would never let me go no matter the depth of my stupidity. You would never reject me.”

“I beat you for real, and you decided I loved you. I’m a bastard.” Milton ran his hand over his hair and let his chin drop to his chest. He’d conditioned his lover to consider a beating as an act of love.

“I wasn’t afraid, not the way you’re thinking. It wasn’t learned helplessness. I wouldn’t have been passive if you’d given me a black eye or loose teeth. I thought you’d throw me out. Instead you fixed it. I hurt for a few days, but that was cheap, and you took iron control over my life which I like. I hadn’t a clue back then to tell you I wanted to be owned. I would have vehemently denied it if you’d tried. Luke can’t tell you what he wants. He may never be able to. You can work on that, but he can’t change overnight. He’ll never be Austin who understands the lines in all their exactitude. I don’t even understand them that well. You and Tilden were Austin’s guardians. He knows absolutely without his consent as a submissive that you would never physically touch him, that you see it as repulsive. None of the rest of us will ever see it that clearly. It’s a fact of life and we can’t change it. You have to deal with it, roll with the punches. Luke will cope. He’s not entirely fragile, and maybe having it all go to hell will make him open his mouth and realize dominance doesn’t come with mind reading.” Sheldon unfolded himself from Milton’s side. He stood up and held out his hand. “Now go cuddle with your baby boys. Austin’s always good for your wounded soul, and Luke doesn’t need you playing the invisible man.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Distract the shit out of Tilden?”

Milton raised his eyebrows.

“I can drink tea and pretend to be interested in the morphology of Russian verbs with the best of them, but I was thinking of something more physical. He can be sweet in bed if I catch him in the right moment.”

Sheldon slipped easily from Milton’s embrace with a kiss on Milton’s cheek that was sweet, endearing, and way too platonic. He winked and waved ta ta with a flap of his hand. Milton sighed and rubbed his hand over his smooth cheek. He was supposed to know how to do this now. He was no wet behind the ears dominant, and without Sheldon he would be lost. Mentally Milton shook himself as he felt his mood drop toward melancholy. He didn’t have the luxury of regrets or what ifs. No matter how arrogant it sounded he was the sun in this solar system of relationships, and he couldn’t flame out in exhaustion or uncertainty. All he wanted to do was go sit with Sheldon and drink a cup of coffee, enjoy the silent companionship of long term lovers, or maybe not so silent in Sheldon’s case. Still and silent had never been Sheldon’s way. But still Milton longed for the directness of his redheaded urchin. He didn’t have to parse his words for Sheldon. He didn’t have to plot strategy or worry about consequences. They knew each other. They knew where it hurt to poke and prod and sometimes they would. They weren’t saints. They both had strong dispositions, and they’d both hurt each other. Milton had almost struck a mortal blow to their relationship, but they’d found their way back. Luke was different. The boy was so damn fragile that he made Milton’s head hurt. Breathe deeply and the boy acted fatally wounded.