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.”
