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"Go or be carried." Knox walks towards me. Under the watchful gaze of everyone in the room, I back away from Knox. Not in fear, just no other option. I don’t want to be alone, but it's nothing to do with the family drama which unfolded. I just feel empty.
"Porter. I understand you are struggling right now." Knox closes the door on our guests, who are more staff than friends.
"Do you? Because I don't."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know." I'm tempted to suggest a film night, with time wrapped in his arms, but I'm not sure I could sit still for that long.
"Do you want to leave?" Knox offers. Freedom is the one thing I thought he could never offer.
"Leave? No. Never. I thought you were thinking along the lines of movies or something."
"I promise you, we will get through this together," Knox smiles. My refusal at his offer to leave clearly pleases him.
"I don't know what I need." What I need is for him to tell me.
"I think you need control."
"Yes. Sex."
"Control."
"Same thing." I shrug.
"You wouldn't say that if I tied you down and edged you all night."
"Please, sir." That moment in the shower was the best memory since this all started.
Knox grabs my arm and leads me upstairs. He has no idea how much I need him to save me from all this. He did it before. He swooped in and saved me from my mum, my sister, my job. He put his dick in me and made it all better.
But he can't take it all away this time, because it's all here.
"You felt better in the shower, didn't you, boy?"
"Yes Sir." Good god, the way he called me boy was so good. Like I was nothing to him, like I was before. The shower was like the first time he choked me. That time I was bound on the floor of his dungeon and my sister was watching. In that moment, I thought I was going to die, and I realised how little my life meant.
That just prepared me for what came next.
The shower at Carter's house was the same. Preparing me for what is coming next.
"Good," Knox growls. I can imagine the growl rumbling through his grip on my arm all the way to my cock. I have no idea what the future holds, but right now, only the next few minutes matter.
Instead of the obvious route to our bedroom, Knox leads me to the other end of the grand house. To a locked door.
"Before we go in here, I want you to have a safe word." Knox honours me with the freedom a special word could give me. "But you must remember that once you have a safe word, no will be meaningless. I won't let you suffer if I don't think you are happy, but no won't mean stop in here."
"Muffins." Gladys' muffins are something I associate with being calm, safe, and happy. And if I want those feelings over what Knox is doing to me, then it is the right time to use the word.
"Muffins," Knox nods. "Do you trust me to keep you safe? Do you trust me to tie you down and hurt you until you are free and flying?"
"Yes. I want it all."
Knox nods, grinning broadly. "Then you are ready."
He pushes the door open, and I step forward. The room is dark, the windows aren't obvious until he flicks on a dim lamp. The theme seems to be ineffective lighting, and he heads clockwise around the room illuminating shadowy structures.
There is a wooden bench in the middle, and to the left is the St Andrews Cross that seems to be a playroom requirement. Not that I've seen a playroom before, but it feels like it belongs there. Knox waits patiently as I take it all in. This room is sex and pain. That is obvious from the neat and tidy collection of floggers and whips, and the impressive collection of restraints and ropes.
