A Place for Cliff (18 page)

“For what?”

“For the way I acted.”

“Accepted.” Again his eyes never leaving the small woman who had ceremoniously been claimed as a slave companion for life.

Cliff was quiet for a moment. Ina medical office he knew what he was waiting for. Knew what was expected of him, but right now, he knew neither of those and without Pyotr’s calm demure to be his anchor he found himself start to fidget for the first time in his life. “Do you want to apologize to me?” The nonsense blurted out before he could even consider how spoiled rotten it made him sound. Wasn’t the first time though. Not with this man.

“No.”

“Why?” Surprised but he wasn’t offended. Perhaps it did hurt a bit. That somehow Dominus’ refusal to apologize meant he was still not accepted, not even as a person.

Trenton turned and looked at him just as he would with anyone else, eye to eye and direct. “Because anything I may have done was never an act of cruelty towards you. Despite your affluence in my club I never once bullied you. Steered you away from your intentions on my property yes, but I never brought harm on you. Never turned cruel on you, but I acted as any other might in the best of behaviors against what you sought after in the way you presented yourself.”

Cliff let out a long sigh. Damned if he sounded a lot like Pyotr in a way. And strangely what he said made sense. Why would anyone apologize for acting the way they did when all along he instigated their actions with his own. And somehow he was okay with not getting that apology after all.

Trenton smiled suddenly, like he was holding back a chuckle, “Pyotr tells me you’re still a brat.”

Cliff glanced up and saw the slighted smile on the Dominus’ face and it became his instantly as he smiled back only much deeper then Trenton did. “Yeah I guess I still am.”

Cliff wanted a moment to talk to Diesel privately, which was gladly given by Pyotr; this session was for Cliff he would not deny him the request.

Upstairs in the private members section of the club, Trenton and Diesel began the night scene as Pyotr watched in a private room away from the watching eyes of others. Tonight was not about sex or kink it was about therapy for his young lover. Cliff’s mental barriers had forced him to latch on and seal himself tight so he could endure for the sake of his sister and her failing health issues. A self destructive existence that needed to be healed and tonight would be the means to pull the tattered threads that managed to hold Cliff together all this time.

Pyotr stood in front of Cliff touching him as reassurance as he stared back at him stoically, withdrawing inside his shell while Trenton and Diesel began the process of coiling his arms and legs into the skilled knots of colorful rope.

Trenton held the bamboo wood stock behind Cliff’s shoulders and brought his arms up and out while Diesel latched arm and bamboo into one careful placement given to each and every coil of rope to prevent slippage that would cut into his circulation. The coils of 8 wraps on his forearms and 6 more around his biceps would hold his weight in balance proportions.

“Look at me
draga
.” Pyotr called to him, drawing his lover out of his shell. It was extraordinary watching the Dominus and the Patronus at work and he felt no shame in having them handle his lover. There was a gift these two possessed like an artist of precision skill.

 He however, was more the voyeur type of the arts, but he knew this was what Cliff needed into order to break past the walls he’d imprisoned his emotions behind. His deep rooted pain was that because he’d put every moment of his life into Kimmi’s care that he would be alone when she was gone and there would be no one to catch him and hold him through his mourning. Pyotr would be here to catch him when he came apart now and if and when Kimmi lost the battle to her illness. But Pyotr didn’t want Cliff injured so it was sensible planning that he asked these two men to help him.

Cliff’s eyes followed him, a small glint of worry marring them despite a well anchored trust. They had talked this over—through every detail before agreeing to proceed but even now he felt Cliff’s strength waver. Which was the point and Pyotr gave him nothing less than his usual expression of pleasure. And that wasn’t all that hard watching as the next lines of black ropes draped down the center of his chest in a sloop knot that spliced in opposite directions just under his pectorals to wind around his torso several times then repeated above his pecks.

Next Cliff’s body was dressed with red silk ropes, tied into a maze of netting that caged his body then looped one leg and up he went when the other leg was snared and brought back, ankles looped and leashed into the system of ropes that held him slung up by the bamboo rod.  Every piece every slip and knot precisely placed to be quickly unraveled with the pull of one single cord.

Right away Dominus took a horse hair flogger and started the task of whipping the skin of Cliff legs, catching the sides of his ass and much of his back as he worked up his body and then back down. Diesel took a long thick strand of string down Cliff’s front and pinned it to his skin with standard style clothes lines pins. Down his chest then down one leg then swap places with Trenton and did the same on the other side.

Cliff’s body broke out into its first cold sweat and he shivered as the repeated session began, but he uttered not a word. Pyotr kept close as he reached under finding Cliff’s hard cock dripping with precum and slapped it so it bounced back up slapping against his belly. And they both groaned with the delight.

Still Cliff kept quiet.

Pyotr kissed the side of his younger lover’s face. While he offered reassurance he still knew the importance of Cliff surrendering. “You need to feel my pet.” He whispered in his ear.

“I do.”

“No, you need to feel all of it.”

Cliff shot a glance at him. Eyes flaring with every question. Pyotr glanced at Trenton and gave him a nod and the flogger was soon replaced with a bamboo beater.

 Cliff moaned as Dominus placed rapid snaps of the cluster of bamboo across his thighs one after the other even the rattled WHACK sound they made reverberated in the room adding to the sensation that was finally starting to swallow Cliff up in it. “Please.” he moaned.

Pyotr was instantly before him, “What do you need, my pet?”

Cliff shook his head like a rattled twitching back and forth—it was clear he didn’t know. His eyes searched not the room but his mind—his emotions—he didn’t even know what he was looking for.

“Feel
draga
. Let it happen.” But then the bewilderment turn refusal and he continued to shake his head.

“I can’t.” He near pleaded as the next set of six came down on the flesh part of his right hip then another six whacks on his left side.

Pyotr gave Dominus another nod and once more the instrument was exchanged for another. Diesel moved to the wall, taking the hoist line and yanked Cliff up high where his genitals were set on display at chest height, and the leather striped flogger was brought down like a whirly gig on the inside of his thighs just to the side of his scrotum. Trenton kept his swings tightly measured to follow Pyotr’s request that Cliff’s cock would not be marred, but the strikes were clothes enough that an occasion strip left a single red welt on his balls.

“Feel my pet. Open up and let go. Stop fighting it and surrender.” Pyotr deliberately refrained from using his name. Under Trenton’s advice using Cliff’s name was a source of strength, the last feeble strength they needed Cliff to let go of.

“No, I can’t. If I do—” Cliff’s quavering words broke off.

“What
draga
? What will happen?” Pyotr nodded and three more strikes to the left landed on soft flesh. Cliff’s head thrashed, his teeth clamped hard and his cock jumped. “What’s going to happen?”

Cliff shuddered, “It’ll all come out. I don’t think I will be able to stop it.”

“What are you afraid of Cliff?”

Tears began to stream down Cliff’s cheeks. Pyotr set his hand on Trenton’s shoulder and the Dominus stopped, taking a step back. Pyotr drew closer. His hand went up feeling the heat of his lover’s stinging flesh. The young man hissed under his touch— there was but one more thread holding Cliff together—and yet he clung to it with all he had. “What are you afraid to feel
draga
?”

Cliff fought inside himself, the pressure in his mind ticking away just inside his forehead like an ice pick just tapping to get out. His cock swelled til it ached. The tears in his eyes threatened to spill out along with everything he’d fought to keep bottled up inside. He had to be strong for Kimmi because if he let it out who would be strong for him.

His flesh stung, hot like crimson coals—sweet and brandishing at the same time. Sending tumultuous waves over numbing static across his nerve endings.  Every time Pyotr told him to feel, his grasp slipped a little more. Until finally when his lover pulled the string that ran the length of his body, taking with it the twenty-five or so clamps that pinched at his flesh off, and that soft loving voice once more told him to feel—he did.

Feeling emotions
—
thoughts
—
words
—
they detached from his mind
—
his control failed, all came rushing out of his mouth at once like a tsunami. And followed by it were the sobbing tears and the vocalization that he was afraid for himself if Kimmi died. He was afraid of being alone without her.  That once she was gone
—
“I won’t be needed any more! By anyone! I won’t have a place!!” Cliff screamed.

The trapped emotion was too much to bear and he felt fractures
—
the last thread unraveling and withered away, undoing the walls of his fortress. Fear seized his heart and sorrow freed it. The tide was rushing through now, breaking its way through the fissure and gaining momentum beyond his control.

Cliff felt none of his defenses, along with his consciousness, he crumbled.

Pyotr snapped his fingers and with a pull of a rope the weave of bindings that held Cliff’s body in suspension came undone, dropping Cliff right into Pyotr’s arms. “Shhh—see there I got you.” Pyotr kissed him instantly his cheek, his temple. The side of his head all the tender emotional spots that needed reassuring that told the boy he was not alone. “I’m here for you and I’m going to catch you whenever you need me, and your place is going to be with me. In my arms forever
Draga
.” Pyotr held him, hugged him and rubbed out the soreness where the bindings had been as Diesel and Trenton silently unraveled them, and Cliff continued to come undone in his arms. Surrendering his mental state to his
glavar
completely.

When he was free, Pyotr shifted his young lover then scooped him up in his arms and carried him over to the bed and laid him down and crawled in next to him. Diesel set a bottle of salve for Cliff’s back, some lubricant in case the two decided to make love later and a condom, not knowing where they were in their relationship, all set on the night stand in easy reach, and then left them to their privacy.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

CHAPTER SEVEN

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Kimmi shared cake, ice cream and party favors with the staff and patients to celebrate her 19
^th
birthday at the Cancer Treatment Center. For some it would seem the worst place to have it, but for Kimmi nearly all of her friends came from here and many would not have been able to attend if she didn’t bring it to them and as such, the wreck room of the patient’s floor was transformed into a Kimmi-kaleidoscope of color and festivities.

Of course it didn’t go unnoticed by her brother when a young man she’d met there came in and gave her more than just a friendly hug. When the young dirty-blonde picked her up off her feet and kissed her, Cliff nearly jumped out of his seat—or rather he did and Pyotr quickly snatched him by the leg of his pants and pulled him back down.

Cliff snapped a glaring shot at his lover, “You knew about this?”

Pyotr only smiled, he’d raised all his siblings, these things just didn’t go unnoticed, “I suspected there was a boy she was sweet on.”

Cliff’s scowled only deepened, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Pyotr chuckled at him then, and pulled him in roughly by the back of his neck for a kiss, “My dear
draga
there was nothing to tell.” Cliff’s face only barely softened, the expression was certain there could have been something Pyotr could have told him.

Kimmi eventually traded the new boy for the gifts piled up at the table each time Pyotr holding back until finally he was the last one. When Pyotr slid the paper in front of her, she instantly saw the print across the top read
petition for agreement for parental rights and adoption.
Everything stopped just then the world a hum in her ears as she read the words again and then one more time just to be certain.

At the bottom a small red tag cut in the shape of an arrow pointed to the line meant to be signed and she saw several more of them scattered thru the document—six nurses all scrunched up together at the table barely containing themselves sat anxiously each with a pen in hand while another eight stood behind them. All sharing the same face. Kimmi’s eyes read over the top of the stack of papers Pyotr had slid in front of her. A decorative bow tacked to the upper corner it was darted with a multiple of little red flags poking out the sides in between the pages. She flipped thru them each flag pointing to a line that required a signature. Kimmi’s eyes shot up to the man beaming just as brightly as ever. Her brother sitting further back in the room chewing on his nails and nearly every nurse she knew from the center nearly fighting against one another as they squished themselves into the fewer chairs needed around the table. Outside of Cliff they all were starry eyed with a hopeful expression that made her almost laugh.

“What is this?” She asked.