By His Rules (7 page)

and lowered his pelvis until his hard cock brushed

Aiden’s chest. The tip of Scott’s cock glistened and left a

wet trail on Aiden’s skin as Scott slipped it under the

chain.

“Ahhh.” Aiden hissed.

“That’s right,” Scott said. “Let me hear you while

I’m fucking you.” He thrust, and his entire cock slid

under the chain, yanking Aiden’s nipples up and in.

Aiden cried out. His own cock was confused,

stiffening at the delicious feeling of utter subjugation,

then softening again as the pain became too much.

Scott fucked the chain slowly, dragging long cries

from Aiden, then faster and harder, until all Aiden could

do was gulp and gasp and beg.

He was nothing. He was Shithead. He was Scott’s

toy. That felt good to think about. Aiden’s cock twitched

again. He stopped yelling and began to revel in the pain,

closed his eyes and prepared to sail away on it.

But something wasn’t right. He didn’t feel he had

the right, or permission, to extract pleasure from his

agony. There was no support, no affection from Scott.

Scott wasn’t trying to launch Aiden into subspace—he

was trying to keep Aiden in the present, hurting.

He wants me to feel it. He’s punishing me for lying to him.

Scott finished, shooting his cum onto Aiden’s neck

and chest. Aiden didn’t feel anything—not pride at

having taken pain for his top’s pleasure, not arousal at

Scott’s inventive cruelty, not the hot, glowing shame that

accompanied a thorough and punishing fuck. He just felt

confused.

“Go clean yourself,” Scott muttered.

Aiden struggled up. Any encouragement, any

praise from Scott would have helped. If Scott had

cleaned him, for instance, or held him for a few minutes,

helped him come down from the pain. But Scott didn’t

seem inclined to touch him.

When did you get so needy? He’s training you. You’re a

slave, a piece of property. A liar and a disappointment. And you

expect him to what
, cuddle
you?

He got up and went to the bathroom. He cleaned

himself up and prepared for whatever was next.

“Leftover onion fries in the kitchen,” Hera said,

nudging him on her way to grab menus.

“Not hungry,” Aiden said.

“You love onion fries more than life.”

“Not today.”

The last thing Aiden needed was onion fries. He

was on a strict diet. Two protein shakes a day—one in

the morning, and one in the evening. In between, he ate

very little—lean meat, fish, hummus, salad. He worked

out for two hours each night. After two weeks, he was

disappointed by how thin and weak he still looked. He

was developing hard knots of muscle on his upper arms

and his calves, but they looked almost fake—stuck on.

He missed the slender softness of his body, the gentle

definition of his muscles. He was bony and hard now.

Scott still laughed at his body, called him scrawny

and told him his ass was the only part of him worth

looking at. Sometimes Scott made him eat—a bowl of

oatmeal or soup from the floor—and Aiden hated this,

hated eating in front of Scott, hated eating more than he’d

planned to that day. To make up for it, he tried not to eat

anything except his morning protein shake on the days

he met with Scott. He spent more time at the gym those

days too.

Things with Scott had improved after the first night

of training. He’d learned to polish Scott’s boots with his

tongue, to wait in position for as long as Scott wanted

him to without moving or complaining. He could take a

thorough fucking, a savage whipping. He fetched toys

from Scott’s cabinet on command. He opened his legs so

that Scott could tease him, and he never came without

permission. Well, almost never. They were working on

that.

Spending three nights a week at Scott’s kept his ass

constantly sore. His nipples were scabbed from the

clamps, and the scabs sometimes split and oozed a clear

liquid. He was bruised, stretched, and exhausted, but he

felt great. It embarrassed him that he lived for Scott’s rare

praise—an occasional “good boy” or a reassuring hand

on his back. He was always very responsive to Scott’s

teasing, hoping he could entice Scott to go further, make

him feel good. To make love, together, just once in a

while—instead of Scott fucking him and casting him

aside.

A hand covered his eyes from behind. “Open

wide.”

He obeyed out of habit, and Hera slipped an onion

fry into his mouth. He shook free and spit the fry out.

“Cut it out,” he snapped.

“Come on. You need that fry. I never see you eat

anymore, and you look positively
gaunt
.”

“I do not.”

“Come to dinner tomorrow night. Kim’s cooking.

It’ll be vegany stuff, so you won’t have to worry about

messing up your figure.”

“Can’t.”

“Let me guess. Scott.”

“Yep.”

“Well, tell him I said for him to at least give you an

extra portion of gruel or something.”

Aiden gave her a tight smile. “Whatever.”

“Don’t ‘whatever’ me. I’m serious. You don’t look

good.”

“I look better than I have in a long time. Scott wants

me to be in shape.”

Hera shook her head. “Look in the mirror, dork.

You may have rock-hard abs, but you’re in lousy shape.”

* * * *

Aiden followed Scott down the hall to the bedroom,

more than a little apprehensive. Scott’s surprises tended

to be painful and humiliating.

Scott led him into the bathroom, which was lit with

candles—arranged

haphazardly,

but

attractive

nonetheless. The tub was filled with foamy water, and in

the candlelight, Aiden saw steam rising from it. Scott

pinched his bruised nipples. Aiden didn’t even

whimper. His tits were getting tougher. Scott traced old

welts on Aiden’s back, ass, and thighs. He rubbed

Aiden’s sides and stomach with his palm.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked.

“You, Sir,” Aiden replied.

Then Scott took Aiden’s cock and used his thumb to

spread the leaking fluid from the tip down the shaft. He

fisted Aiden’s cock and stroked slowly. Aiden’s back

arched, and he sighed, moving with Scott’s hand.

“Into the tub,” Scott said with a mild slap to

Aiden’s ass.

Aiden climbed in. The water was hot—almost too

hot—but his body quickly adjusted as he sank into the

bubbles. He secretly hoped Scott wouldn’t hurt him here.

This felt too nice, too safe. Scott sat on the edge of the tub

and lathered a washcloth. He washed the back of Aiden’s

neck, using slow, soothing circles. He rubbed behind

Aiden’s ears, and Aiden leaned into the contact, allowing

himself to sigh his pleasure as Scott ran the cloth down

each arm, scrubbing between Aiden’s fingers. Maybe this

was the preamble to some horrible torture, but it felt

damn good.

Scott had Aiden stand up. He washed Aiden’s ass

with surprising gentleness, not rubbing too hard over the

welts and bruises. He moved the washcloth between

Aiden’s legs. The warm, soapy cloth passing over his

cock and balls made Aiden’s knees shake. He couldn’t

stop himself from humping the cloth a little, and Scott let

him.

Scott squirted shampoo into his palm. Aiden

couldn’t keep back a groan as Scott massaged his scalp.

He wished this could go on forever. Scott rinsed the

shampoo out, shielding Aiden’s eyes with a clean cloth.

This embarrassed and thrilled Aiden—he hated the

feeling of helplessness, but it felt so
good
to be cared for.

Scott guided Aiden’s wet head to rest against his thigh.

They sat like that for a few minutes, Scott stroking

Aiden’s cheek with his thumb.

“You liked that?” Scott asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

“So did I.”

This was the Scott Aiden saw only sometimes—a

little vulnerable, a little uncertain. Aiden had the sense

that Scott had wanted to please him but hadn’t been sure

how. He felt more determined than ever to be a good sub

for Scott.

Scott helped Aiden from the tub. He wrapped him

in a thick towel and backed him into the bedroom,

pushing him gently onto the mattress. The towel fell

open, leaving Aiden exposed, damp, and eager. Scott

kissed Aiden, plunging his tongue deep into Aiden’s

mouth, claiming him.

“Your training’s going well,” Scott said. “I thought

you deserved a reward.”

He ran his fingers along Aiden’s cock, tracing the

ridge below the head. Aiden arched his back, rubbing his

cock against Scott’s hand.

“Shh. Not so fast,” Scott said. “Spread your legs.”

Aiden did. Scott rolled on a condom and lubed

himself. He pressed a finger against Aiden’s opening,

circling his target, making Aiden squirm.

“I want you to beg for it,” Scott whispered.

“Please, Sir,” Aiden said.

“Please what? What do you want?”

Aiden lifted his hips as Scott continued to circle his

asshole with one finger, pressing against the opening but

never breaching it.

“Please put your—put your finger in me. God—

please—”

“Good boy.” Scott plunged a finger inside him.

“Oh God… ”

“Stay still while I finger fuck you.”

Aiden tried his best to hold still. Not to yelp or

twist or ride Scott’s finger. Scott added a second finger,

then a third, stretching him, and Aiden moaned with

each of Scott’s thrusts.

Scott pulled his fingers out.

“No!” Aiden begged.

Scott quirked an eyebrow. “No?”

“I mean—please, Sir. Don’t stop.”

“My cock’s going to feel even better in you,” Scott

said, positioning himself at Aiden’s opening.

Aiden had received countless fuckings from Scott

since his training began, and usually Scott’s cock
hurt
.

This was different. Scott entered him slowly and waited

for Aiden to relax and accommodate him before he began

thrusting. He angled his thrusts to hit Aiden’s prostate,

and soon Aiden was clutching the sheets, yelling with

abandon as Scott pounded him.

“Gonna come,” Aiden warned.

“Not yet,” Scott said, ramming him harder.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Aiden panted. “Scott, I

can’t—”

“You’re gonna do what I say.” Scott smacked the

inside of one thigh.

Aiden gasped. “Yes, Sir. Oh God… ”

“Come for me now, little boy.”

Aiden’s face grew hot at the words “little boy,”

even as his balls and ass contracted and he came,

shooting onto his belly and the sheets. He panted and

begged incoherently as Scott continued to fuck him past

his orgasm. Scott came a moment later, emptying himself

into the condom. He pulled out, rolled Aiden onto his

stomach, and spanked him. Slow, hard slaps that made

Aiden wince and wriggle against the sheets.

“Move that ass for me, boy. Hump my bed.”

Flushing, Aiden rocked his hips, rubbing his cock

against the soft cotton. The slaps came faster, the sting of

them melding together into a perfect surface heat that

spread from Aiden’s hips to his thighs. Scott forced his

legs apart and spanked his crack, his asshole, his inner

thighs. “No,” Aiden moaned, rocking against the bed.

“No no no no… ” His cock was hard again and chafed

against the sheets.

“Yes,” Scott growled. “You do as I say. You hump

until you come. I’m going to spank you until you do.”

Aiden almost lost his mind at Scott’s promise. So

humiliating, yet so
hot
. Scott spanked his ass, alternating

cheeks, the slaps ringing in the dim room. Aiden’s

rubbed-raw cock wept and throbbed, and he humped the

mattress so hard the bedsprings began to protest. Finally

he came, thrusting his ass up into the air as the cum

spilled out of him, and Scott peppered his flaming butt

with a last volley of spanks. “Oh!” Aiden collapsed.

Scott chuckled.

“Your ass is the color of a Christmas sweater,” Scott

said, palming the sore flesh, digging his fingertips into

the most painful areas.

Aiden moaned.

“How do you feel?”

Aiden tensed with surprise. Scott never asked him

this. Was it a trick question? “Good, Sir. Tired.”