New Leather (6 page)

The sight of his boy rimming himself with the toy teased James’ sanity. When the glass slowly disappeared inside the hole that he knew was hot and tight— it was as though his own shaft were plunging in. His excitement mounted as Carl fucked himself with the glass dildo. It mesmerized him to see it slide in and out.

Distraction came in the form of Carl's hoarse call. “I need to come, sir!”

“Do it. Come, boy.” He kept his eyes open with an effort when Carl abandoned the toy to take hold of his shaft once more. The man on display groaned loudly. His hips lifted in his orgasm and the dildo, three-quarters of the way in, began to slip free. Watching the glass slowly reappear nearly unmanned James and he opened his linen slacks to pull his aching flesh from its confines.

“Sir?”

James knew he was breathing hard and Carl could hear him, but it took a moment for him to respond to his sub. “Bring me your mouth, Carl.”

“Yes sir.” Forgetting about the toy, he hopped off the bench to find James in the shadows and kneel in front of him. His lips sucked up the trickle of fluid on the swollen head of the shaft and then engulfed the whole cock in one motion.

James leaned back in the chair to enjoy the caress of Carl's mouth and tongue on his dick. Now that the boy was where he needed him to be, he could relax somewhat and let the climax build again. He allowed his eyes to drift shut and listened to the slurps of a great blowjob. His buttocks clenched in tempo with the pulls on his cock as he felt the orgasm rise. It would not be long.

Still, in spite of knowing it was coming, he shook with the shock of its intensity when it hit him. Jets of cum poured into Carl's mouth as he heard the glass dildo hit the floor.

Somehow, Carl managed to get through Monday's bullshit at the Providence Journal without too many typos. He felt disoriented and lost for most of the day. Three days of having every activity planned for him was addictive. He would never have guessed that. James said an outsider could not possibly understand what BDSM really entailed and he'd been right.

The other thing that bothered him was how well he acclimated to being controlled sexually. He loved it, pure and simple. Even as he protested the things his Dom wanted of him, he loved it. One could point out this knowledge of himself was good for his personal growth, but he didn't buy that shit. Getting his rocks off by letting James have power over him had altered how he saw himself. He wasn't sure if he liked the view.

At the end of a long day, he went home. A message from Tony said he was bringing pizza and beer around seven. Great. Tony would want full disclosure of the weekend and the torture and Carl was not in the mood to talk about it yet.

Shaking his head at the fates that gave him an emotionally arrested best friend, he headed for the shower. At least it was just a shower!

Clean and dressed in sweats, Carl let Tony into the apartment. “How hungry are you for god's sake?”

Tony grinned and placed three pizzas and two six packs of beer on the coffee table. “I thought you'd need sustenance after your ordeal.”

“Yeah, I'm a shadow of my former self.”

Tony took a couple of cans off one of the packs and went into the kitchen to put the rest in the fridge. “So? How'd it go? You don't look bruised and bloodied.”

“I'm not.”

“Did you at least get spanked?”

“Jeez, Tony! Give it up. Yes, I was tied up. No, I was not whipped. Yes, I'm going back. No, I won't tell you everything. Okay?” Carl opened his beer to take a swallow, already regretting the outburst that told his friend how frazzled he really was.

“Am I missing something?” Tony suddenly looked worried. “You liked it, didn't you? That's what has your jockeys in a twist. You got off on it.”

“Yeah. I really did.”

“Why? Is the guy that hot?”

“Hotter, but that's not the only reason. Do you remember the skiing trip four years ago? You lost a ski and tumbled halfway down the mountain.” He paused recalling his friend's fall and the fear he felt. “At the bottom, you just lay there and laughed your head off.”

Tony nodded. “I didn't break anything, but the adrenaline rush was crazy. I felt so alive.”

“Like that.”

“Okay. Just don't let this guy really hurt you. Don't get so caught up that you wind up in traction and can't remember how you got there.”

“Yes Mother.”

“And, by the way, I didn't ski again for the rest of the season. Once was enough.”

By Tuesday, Carl felt more like his old self. He went into the Journal to polish the story from the week before on abandoned pets filling up the shelters. The dismal economy in Rhode Island was taking its toll on the family dog, it seemed.

As he sat, he saw a note on his desk that puzzled him. Coke, antacid tablets, laxative, Viagra. The list made no sense until he realized it was the coffee vandals giving him an update. He hadn't seen the editor all day yesterday now that he thought about it. He looked up and scanned the large room to find several colleagues smiling at him and old Ask Agnes (her name was really Mary) winked. He laughed out loud, kissed the note and pocketed it. Life was good.

The rest of the week flew as Carl tried to cram five days’ worth of work into four. He made a few calls and checked out some readers’ ideas for his column. He also began the first installment of his series on BDSM for the Herald. He and the editor there decided to publish the articles after he was done with James. That way, if he did not finish out the contract, they weren't stuck with half the story already in print.

Writing the article from a reporter's perspective was easier than putting his personal thoughts down in the little book James gave him. How could he do that when his thoughts and emotions were all tangled up? In the end, he went with writing whatever came into his head. The damned thing became six pages long and he was still at odds with himself when he stopped.

Tomorrow is Friday and he is supposed to be at James’ house by two. Thinking he would never sleep, he went to bed late. In spite of his tension, he passed out quickly only to wake up at dawn panting, pumping a load onto the sheets. A bright light was all he remembered of the dream.

James’ week was equally busy. Sammy was pathetically happy to see him in the restaurant on Monday, although he managed splendidly over the weekend. Profits were good and none of the chefs quit or maimed anyone.

Following tradition, they closed on Mondays, so James caught up on the paperwork and went over the order list for the week's supplies with Sam. After, he sat in the lounge to watch the cleaning crew work and to think. Sam joined him.

“You haven't said how the reporter did this weekend.” James was amazed Sam waited this long to grill him.

“He was as much fun to play with as I'd hoped. More.”

“So, he liked your perverted games?”

James snorted. “As if the all that cooing and snuggling you and Peter do is not perverted.”

“Point taken.” Sammy said after he stopped laughing. “Well?”

“Yes, he liked it.” He paused. “I'm going to lose my heart, Sam.”

“Maybe that won't be a bad thing. Maybe he'll trade you.”

James didn't say anything to that— he sipped his whiskey and thought about the possibilities.

Tuesday nights were typically quiet at Pauly's Point, making it a great night to have his friends over for dinner and the weekly chitchat. Like him, a few were business owners, but three of them punched a time clock and had to count pennies. As a result, they all ate free on ‘club’ night. What was the point of having a five-star restaurant if you couldn't feed your friends?

Karen arrived first, she always did. She was the lone female dominate in the group and liked to have some alone time with James before the others showed up. James found her through a sub-for-hire at The Leatherman two years ago. The idiot man complained about his former Domme because she was not strong enough to control him. By the end of the night, dismayed by the sub's requirements of pain, he wanted to meet the woman who had tried to curb his risky behavior. James knew too well how difficult that was.

Mike and Andy came together. They lived in the same area of Warwick and Mike usually gave Andy a ride. James thought that ‘Andrew’ or even ‘Drew’ sounded more imposing, but Andy insisted that Billy knew who was boss no matter what he name he used. James looked up at the young man and had to agree he was a commanding figure.

The last to come into the private dining room was Ben. An older man of fifty, he still had the physique of a body builder twenty years younger. His new lover was the most recent in a string of college girls who liked to dabble in bondage. James shook his head, if the man wanted permanence in a relationship— he needed to find a woman who didn't giggle when he tied her down.

Knowing the others would be unable to come tonight, James closed the door and moved to the small bar to fix drinks. “Sit, my friends and get comfortable. Our dinner will be ready in half an hour, so we have time for a drink.”

“What are we having tonight, James?” Mike was always hungry and his question was the same every week.

“Prime rib, twice baked potatoes, vegetables sauteed in butter and garlic.” Like any host, he chose what to serve. He believed his friends appreciated the relaxed atmosphere. No menus or waiters popping in every five minutes made it feel like home.

“Did you have a good weekend with the reporter, James?” Leave it to Karen to zero in on the hot topic of the millennium. James’ love life until now had been woefully lacking.

“I did.”

“Do not hold out on us. I've seen pictures of him, he's gorgeous.”

“He's not as gorgeous as Severo.” Mike said.

“No one's as gorgeous as Severo,” everyone chorused and Mike had the grace to blush.

James grinned. “Carl is a natural submissive. Don't get me wrong, he still has a lot to learn about the lifestyle, but his instincts are good and he seems eager to please.”

Mike sighed. “That's a relief. I thought I blew it when he heard me telling Severo about you.”

“No. I can even say I'm grateful that happened. Thank you, Mike.”

“I can't believe the man is letting you experiment on him.” This from Andy.

“I am not ‘experimenting’ Andrew. I know what I'm doing. Besides, weren't we all experimenting when we started?”

The door opened and three waiters came in with the dinners. They shelved the discussion until they were alone again.

“I only meant that he's taking a big chance on you. He has no real idea if you are a good Dom or bad.” Andy continued.

Before James could answer, Ben spoke for the first time. “It's not so great a chance though, when you think about it. James is a prominent figure in our little state. He can't very well hide bodies in the basement without someone finding out.”

“Oh, there's a recommendation to let someone cuff you to a cross.” Karen observed dryly.

Everyone chuckled and James waited until they quieted. “Now that he knows I won't kill him, I can take him further into the game.”

“I thought he simply wanted to get his feet wet. Are you planning on throwing him into the deep end?” Karen asked.

“I plan on showing him all that BDSM can be if he's willing.” James was serious. “I think he will like what I do to him; I hope he will someday crave it.”

The sun was shining, the birds were singing and Carl was more nervous than last Friday. A visit to his mother had not helped either. You can't just blurt out your lover is tying you up. Moms don't like that shit and he knew better than to go there. Yet, her input would have been invaluable. Her practicality about love and sex helped him come to terms with his attraction to men and he wondered what she might think of James.

Still, they had a pleasant morning and she told him he didn't look so tired. He supposed that was all he really needed anyway. James appeared to be good for him.

At two o'clock, he pulled into James’ driveway and let himself in the house.

Susan poked her head out of the kitchen. “Hi Carl.”

“Hi Susan.” He smiled as he passed her on his way to the bedroom.

The shower routine was not as bad as last week. In fact, the ritual calmed him. Preparing his body for James gave him a sense of purpose. He thought about that as he put on the camouflage scrubs. Everything James did, or had Carl do, reinforced his acceptance of James’ will.

Carl walked into the den to see James behind his desk working on his computer. Not sure what his Dom wanted, he stood by the door, waiting. He took the first few minutes to look around the room. Awards and diplomas hung on the wall behind James while the remaining walls had watercolors painted by area artists. The golden paneling reflected the afternoon light from the big windows to his left and he closed his eyes against the glare. James’ voice droned on in the back of his mind.

“You do that very well.” James was directly in front of him when he opened his eyes.

“A stint in the army taught me patience.” He opened his mouth to James’ kiss, surprised at the emotional impact of it. He had missed the man. Strong fingers gripped his head as the kiss deepened and he wondered if James had missed him too.

He felt cocooned by James. The scent of his cologne, the hands now moving down his arms and the tongue dancing in his mouth wrapped Carl in desire. He moaned into the kiss and the hands on his wrists tightened in answer.

“Did you have a good week?” James stepped back.

“Yes sir. I finished up a couple of stories for the Journal and started on this one.”

“They are going to print it?”

“Not the Journal. The Herald is, but not until our six weeks are up. I just wanted to get started on it while the memories were fresh. There will be an article for each weekend to show the progress of my training.”

“And did you write in the booklet I gave you?”

“Yes sir. It's not very... organized. Did you want to read it?”

“No. That is for you. It's important that you have somewhere to put your emotions down on paper. Your evolution is meaningless without those insights.”