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“Yes, Sir.”
He smiled down at me. “So obedient and sweet.” He leaned in and murmured in my ear. “Why don’t I believe a word of it?” He straightened up and sighed. “I have a Demonstration with Master Todd in a few minutes. Don’t drink too much, and don’t stay late. It gets wilder the later it gets.” He glanced over at Cruz. “I doubt if Master Michael would approve of you being here late either, so you boys go home pretty soon.”
Before he left, he had one parting shot. “It’s freezing outside tonight. What kind of jacket did you wear?”
“My only jacket. The black hoodie.”
“That thing needs to go in the Goodwill bins. I’ll send something over for you tomorrow, and the next time I see you, I’d like to see you wearing it.”
“Yes, Sir, but don’t send me anything, please. I can find something at the thrift store, and you’ve spent enough on me already.”
“We’ll see,” he replied, rather cryptically, I thought, and this time he patted me on the cheek. “Be good,” he said, and sauntered off to get swallowed up by the crowd almost immediately.
“Oh my God,” Cruz said as soon as he was out of earshot. “He’s so into you.”
“What? Do you really think so?”
“Yeah,” he said, like of course, dummy. “He kept touching you and he tucked your hair. Oh my god, he’s going to send you a coat.” Cruz was practically bouncing in his seat. “It’ll be a nice one too—mark my words.”
“But I owe him too much already.”
“You know he’s like a billionaire, right? Or a multi-millionaire, anyway. His family made their money in commercial real estate, and he still manages some huge properties in downtown Atlanta, according to Michael. This club is more or less a tax write-off for him, and he uses it more for recreational purposes, though he’s been a Dom for years.”
“According to Michael again?”
“Yes, and they’ve been friends a long time. He never keeps a sub for long, though, so don’t get your hopes up.”
My hopes, which had been soaring up somewhere around the ceiling, took a sudden nosedive. “Because he could never be interested in a boy like me?”
“I didn’t mean it that way. You’ve obviously already caught his interest. But you don’t know if you’re really a sub, do you? I think you’d like the dressing up part, and some of the sexy parts, but I don’t think you’d like the kinds of things he’s into. To get him, you may have to try and see if you like it, though I don’t think you would.”
“How do you know? I might surprise you.”
“He said he’s about to do a Demo. Why don’t we watch, so you can see for yourself?”
We finished off our drinks and left the glasses on the bar, and then Cruz began heading in the same direction Jared did, pulling me along behind him. “They’ll be in the Dungeon area, where the big equipment is.”
The Dungeon was crowded when we got there, and a young guy was strapped to a St. Andrew’s Cross when we finally made our way through the crowd. I had done my homework over the last week, and I knew some, but by no means all, of the names of the equipment the Dom was using. The young man was wearing a leather thong and nothing else. He had a lot of redness on the skin of his ass and his back, where the big Dom, wearing intimidating black jeans and a dark shirt, had already been working on him with a flogger. He had a few pink welts too, though Cruz whispered to me that the Dom was mostly taking it easy on him.
The flogger had braided tassels and Cruz said it looked like a hard-core piece, and the Dom was probably going to use it to show off his technique. I saw Jared standing by, watching, but in another few strikes, the first Dom stepped aside, and Jared came forward. He had a different kind of flogger that Cruz whispered to me was deerskin, with softer falls than the braided ones.
He stepped up behind the sub and danced the tips across his shoulders. It was like a caress, plain and simple. He did that a few more times and then, keeping his wrists loose, he began to hit the sub with underarm strikes that fanned the tails across his back. I knew I was watching someone very skilled at this. There was a rhythm to it, and I knew he wasn’t striking hard, but only warming up. Over and over again came the soft sound of leather against skin, of soft cries and sighs as the lines began to rise to the surface and his whole back became flushed a dark pink.
Jared switched to figure eights, with two firm strokes, first left and then right and the strike were getting harder, and now he was putting his arm into the blows and not just his wrists. The flush became deeper, redder. The sub was making lots of whimpers and groans now and they sounded a little bit shocked and a little bit hurt. Those sounds got louder and more hurt sounding as the thuds kept going on and on. Once he stopped and checked with the boy, but I saw him nod and I didn’t know how to feel about it, but I knew I wanted it to stop. It didn’t. The sub was restless, but he was tethered way too tightly to get away. He wasn’t resisting though or struggling. He wasn’t saying his safe word, but simply enduring, and trying to hang on. He glanced back at Jared once, and he looked…resigned. Or at least that’s what it felt like to me. I didn’t like it, and I wanted to tell Jared to stop, but of course, I didn’t dare.
Then it was suddenly over, and Jared turned, and I saw his face. He was totally under control, but his eyes…they looked almost transported. Like he’d been in some kind of state the whole time. I’d read online that some Doms called it “top space.” And I could clearly see the outline of his hard cock in those tight, leather pants.
Now that it was done, both he and the other Dom went immediately to the sub, talking softly to him, gently easing him out of his restraints. I heard Jared call him a good boy and tell him how well he’d done. Then Cruz whispered to me that if it had been a real scene, and more private, he and the other Dom might have been even tougher on the boy. Apparently, from what Cruz said, the unknown Dom and the sub were in a committed relationship—he was collared—and they had been together for almost a year.
And all I could think of was Cruz saying, “he could have been even tougher on him.” It had been unsettling for me to watch, as it was. I could still hear those little cries and moans. I didn’t want to see anymore, but I couldn’t seem to look away. When Cruz saw me watching the scene so intensely, he glanced over at me with a speculative look. And the thing was, I wasn't sure about how I felt about it, really, despite what I was feeling, except that watching it had given me both a feeling of unease and an immediate erection. But it was the aftercare in particular that I’d been drawn to. Being the object of so much attention and loving care—what might that feel like? It gave me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach and made me achingly hard.
“Connor,” Cruz said right in my ear, making me jump. “What’s with you? I had to say your name three times. Jared was right. You really do go into a trance at times, don’t you?”
“I-I was just watching, like you told me to,” I said, feeling irritable. “It’s hard to hear with so many people.”
“Ookaay,” he said, drawing out the word. “I’ll ignore the fact you were totally spaced out if you want me to.” He looked over at me with interest. “Did that appeal to you?”
Did it? No, I couldn’t say if it did or didn’t. There were definitely things about it that appealed greatly to me. Did that mean I could be a sub? I was more confused than ever.
