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“Is it ready?”
“Almost. I found everything you asked for and took the measurements to make sure it would fit both places. If you’d like, you guys can move down here tomorrow, and we can get started on your kitchen and bathrooms. The tiles came in from my supplier this morning.”
“That’s great, Dev. Yes, for sure, I’ll get us packed now and we’ll head down there and set up for the week in the morning.”
“I’ll keep working on your thing then. I should have it ready for you by then.”
I ended the call and laughed to myself. I did like surprises.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I was in my own sweet heaven as we began to train Joel. He was great, giving everything we wanted of him his all. He was determined to show us we had been right, placing our bet on him.
His words.
The dominant man inside me had taken a backseat for that while, getting to know Joel. I hadn’t let him fully emerge because I could be brutal and demanding. It came from a lot of my past, past I’d explored with therapists over and over, and until I found one that was good with the BDSM lifestyle, they all tried to throw pills at me.
When I found the woman therapist with the twinkle in her eye and light bruises on her wrists that she tried and failed to cover with bracelets, I knew I was home. She listened, really listened, and let me know that I wasn’t being dramatic in my needs. I’d had them before I ever went to war, so that was placed firmly off the table.
Then she’d started looking back on my childhood.
I had a domineering father, sure. I knew that apple didn’t fall far from the tree, but the thing was, my mother was every bit as domineering. They didn’t argue often, but when they did, it was loud! Screaming matches where the curses that flew were a brutal combination of English words and Italian, and that wasn’t all.
My mother’s favorite thing was to throw pots and pans around the kitchen. She practically lived in there with her love of cooking, so it only made sense. She’d start tossing them at the walls and appliances, never at him, thankfully, until they’d wear themselves out, make up and he’d help her for hours cleaning the mess.
And, if the fight was his fault, he’d buy her new pans to replace the dented ones.
I grew up with that, two people that knew what they wanted, how they wanted it and worked their asses off to get what they wanted. They taught me to work, to celebrate and even fight, when I needed to.
The bug was in me from my first boyfriend. He was a sweet boy, shy, and it took forever to talk him into our first kiss. Then, I tried something a little different. I ordered him to kiss me, telling him, I knew he wanted to, but if he didn’t, either tell me that or kiss me, and I accented it with dammit !
It seemed to give him the permission he needed to kiss me and like it. He was repressed, like so many gay boys, and he needed that, someone to make it okay to be what and whom he was.
After that, I found out that a lot of men were the same way. They’d been repressed in their sexuality, sure, but it was more than that. With Joel, he’d repressed his need to have someone that was lasting. He thought it was all about sex, and no one would ever want him for more than that. When we took him, and swore never to let go, it opened him for something he’d repressed in himself. Loving another man…or in our case, loving two other men.
Skirting around the issues I’d had at first, unsure of myself in that same way, loving a submissive, was clear to me. I’d let the fear of chasing him away blind me to what he needed, and what I needed.
In our domination of him, he’d allowed himself to be loved, and to love back. It was time to assert my own needs, to further his and mine as well.
I made him kneel that first morning after Xen left as I fed him his breakfast. Every time he grumbled at me, I felt that inner animal roar, the need to dominate awaken. I’d hold back the bite of food, and he’d quiet again until I fed him.
His biggest complaint was about kneeling on the hard flooring, but I didn’t say a word, just feeding him when he was silent.
Damon, however, was the loud dominant. “Wait until we go somewhere with concrete floors. Then bitch.”
“We had Devlin seal the flooring in the club with something that had some give, Joel,” I explained. “For this reason. They’re hard, but not as hard as metal, or tile or…concrete.”
“Makes no sense. Even gard’ners have knee pads, workin’ in the dirt! And dirt is soft!”
“Good boys, who obey and are quiet in their service to their Sirs, get kneepads on occasion. I don’t see that happening with you though.”
Another pantomime of zipping his lips and throwing the key was made and Joel managed to get his full breakfast after all.
Seeing him struggle to get up, however, made my inner Dom cranky, and I pushed him right back down to the floor.
“Damon just said I could git-up!”
“Not like that. Gracefully, in one fluid motion. Don’t use the table. You have strong leg and ass muscles, fucking use them.”
