Stuff My Stocking: M-M Romance Stories that are Nice and Naughty (20 page)

“Yes, sir,” Aaron echoed, with perfect and apparently completely instinctive obedience.

Patterson nodded his approval. Christmas couldn’t come quick enough.

*****

“He’s probably changed his mind by now,” Aaron said. He kicked his feet against the pavement outside the club as he glanced to where his friend was sitting on the wall to the left of the door during his break. “He’s probably forgotten about it all.”

“Patterson’s not the forgetful sort, and he’s not the indecisive sort either,” Ben swung his legs back and forth, tapping out a rhythm on the brick work as he hummed a carol under his breath. “If your slave hours go half as well as mine went, you’re going to be grinning all the way into the New Year.”

Aaron looked both ways along the snow covered street, as if some sort of escape route might open up for him at any moment. He’d never had any doubt that Ben’s time with the dom who offered his winning bid would be bloody fantastic. Any dominant would love to have Ben under his control and—

“Patterson sent me to watch the door.”

Aaron looked over his shoulder. One of the other bouncers stood directly behind him, ready to take his place. Aaron really wished the guy could take his place in the scene with Patterson instead.

“He said you’re to report to playroom seven straight away,” the other bouncer went on.

“Told you he wouldn’t forget,” Ben chipped in.

Aaron glared over his shoulder at him, but, as much as part of him wished he had time to throttle his friend for getting him into this mess in the first place, it wouldn’t do to keep Patterson waiting. Aaron quickly made his way through the club.

Room seven…

For all the time he’d spent on the door and in the public areas of the club, the playrooms were far less familiar territory for Aaron. He desperately tried to remember which set up was in which room.

Room seven…

Was that the one with the sling or the cage? He couldn’t remember.

He was still none the wiser when he found himself standing outside the door with a big iron seven bolted onto the woodwork. His mind might have been spiralling out of control in a dozen different directions, but his body was running on automatic pilot and didn’t wait for any orders to be issued by his brain before lifting his hand and knocking politely on the door.

“Enter.”

Aaron’s body still didn’t wait for his mind to catch up. He turned the handle and pushed open the door.

Patterson stood on the far side of the room. Aaron had never actually seen the dominant wearing anything that wasn’t leather, but as Aaron laid eyes on the other man he became acutely aware that, for the first time, he was looking at Patterson in his play clothes rather than his work clothes.

The leather the dominant usually wore was functional, practical and good quality, but Aaron stalled in the doorway as he ran his eyes over what Patterson was wearing right then. The leather trousers moulded themselves to the dominant’s body like a second skin. It wasn’t the kind of leather a man wore when he was going to be doing paperwork in the back room or play referee to a bunch of bratty doms who couldn’t remember the rules of his club.

It looked far more like what a man wore when he was actually interested in the man he was planning to do a scene with. It was what a man wore when he was planning to whip a man into a frenzy of endorphins, screw the hell out of him, make him beg for anything and everything in the world, and generally give a submissive the best night of his life.

“Close the door, Aaron.”

Aaron closed the door. The dominant still had his back to him, his skin was bare from his waist to where his hair covered the back of his neck—thick black strands that Aaron had longed to touch since the first moment he set eyes on the other man, three months ago, when he’d interviewed him for the security door-man’s job.

Unsure what he should do, Aaron shuffled his feet and remained just inside the door, waiting for an order. Finally, Patterson turned away from the rack of toys on the other side of the room that he was so interested in, and looked in Aaron’s direction.

As he leaned back against the edge of the bondage bench next to the toy rack, the overhead lights illuminated every lean line of muscle in the older man’s body. They even picked out a few touches of gray at the dominant’s temples.

“Your safe word is red.”

Aaron nodded.

“Unless you’re wearing a gag or sucking me off, I expect verbal responses.”

“Yes, sir,” Aaron managed to say. It wasn’t in him to keep his eyes on the other man’s face then. His attention dropped straight to Patterson’s cock. He could see the outline of the dominant’s shaft through the leather.

“Aaron.”

The submissive dragged his eyes up.

“Focus.”

“Yes, sir,” he whispered again.

“You’re going to belong to me for the next four hours. If you don’t say your safe word, I’ll do whatever I want with you. You understand that?”

“Yes, sir.”

Patterson didn’t look as if he believed him.

Suddenly well aware that he was making a complete idiot out of himself, Aaron did his best to pull himself together. “I understand the way scenes work, sir.”

Patterson appeared neither relieved nor impressed by his reassurance. Straightening up, he stepped away from the bondage bench. “Come here.”

Aaron slowly made his way forward.

“Give me your clothes. You’ll get them back when I’m finished with you.”

“Yes, sir.” Automatically undoing his coat Aaron shrugged it off his shoulders and handed it to the dominant.

Setting the garment to one side, Patterson quickly turned his attention back to Aaron and watched him strip the rest of his clothes away.

Wasting time wasn’t going to make him look any more like the kind of submissive men that Patterson liked to own. He wouldn’t turn into someone like Ben when the clock struck midnight. He had far more chance of turning into a bloody pumpkin.

Scrambling out of his clothes, Aaron handed every item over to Patterson, until he stood completely naked in front of the leather clad dominant. He’d never thought he’d miss that ridiculous leather thong and the belt with those cuffs locked to it that he’d worn at the slave auction. But, at least when he’d been bound by those cuffs, he’d known what to do with his hands.

As Patterson slowly walked around him, Aaron clenched and unclenched his fists, but he had no idea how to stand, how to hold himself as he was assessed. The dominant was behind him, out of his line of sight, when Aaron felt fingers brush against his forearm. He jumped, but Patterson’s hand didn’t release the hold it had taken around his wrist.

The dominant said nothing as he guided Aaron’s hand up to the back of his head. Another second passed and saw Patterson guiding Aaron’s other hand to join the first on his head and link his fingers neatly together.

A gentle tap of one leather booted foot to the inside of Aaron’s ankle was enough to convince him to shuffle his feet shoulder width apart. Aaron closed his eyes. While it was nice to know exactly how the older man wanted him to stand, being presented like that for his inspection, unable to hide his reaction to it, soon had the heat rushing to his cheeks. His cock had been hard from the start, but now it was curving back toward his stomach.

“How often do you work out?”

Aaron blinked his eyes open. Patterson was standing directly in front of him.

The submissive tried to answer and failed. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Most days, sir.”

Reaching out to him, Patterson ran his fingers along the muscles in Aaron’s right arm. He didn’t seem particularly impressed, he didn’t seem particularly anything. It was almost as if he didn’t see anything the least bit strange in the man he was dominating carrying so much more muscle than him.

The older man’s touch moved to Aaron’s chest. His hand stroked its way across his pecs until his fingertips found a nipple. He caught the little nub of nerve endings between the digits and squeezed, hard.

Aaron whole body jerked. A shocked little noise escaped from the back of his throat. Patterson smiled and calmly went back to caressing his muscles. There was nothing delicate about the dominant’s touch. It was light, but in a way that only seemed to emphasise that he was choosing to keep it that way rather than incapable of making it harsher should the mood strike him.

“Does it help?”

“Sir?” Aaron managed. The older man’s hand was making its way down his abs and it was impossible for him not to feel that the other man had any destination in mind other than his cock.

“All these layers of muscle you’ve worked so hard to achieve. Do they help you feel safer in your own skin?”

Aaron just blinked at him.

“You’re obviously not a vain man, Aaron. And I’d be very surprised to find that you’re competitive enough to enjoy out bench-pressing every man you meet.”

All Aaron could do was stare back at the dominant as Patterson held his gaze.

“The only reason a man like you gains all these muscles is to hide behind them. Does being strong actually help you feel safe?”

Aaron shook his head. “No, sir.”

“No,” Patterson murmured. “I didn’t think it would.”

“I…”

“A submissive only ever truly feels safe when he’s wrapped up in someone else’s strength,” Patterson said, perfectly calmly, as if they weren’t talking about anything more life changing than the weather.

Lifting his hand from where it had lingered on Aaron’s stomach, he stroked his knuckles down his cheek. “You have no idea just how much you need a good master to look after you, do you, Aaron?”

Swallowing rapidly, Aaron didn’t even attempt to find any words to make a reply. All he could do was hold the dominant’s gaze, and pray that Patterson could see whatever he needed to know reflected in his eyes.

Even though he was much narrower across the shoulders than Aaron, Patterson was also well over six feet tall, only an inch or so shorter than him, that should have made it easy to look him in the eye, but it didn’t.

The older man smiled slightly. He nodded as if he understood everything in the whole world and, right then, Aaron had no doubt Patterson really was as omnipotent as he looked.

“Kneel.”

Submissives like Ben could lower themselves to their knees with so much easy grace that it barely seemed like there were joints operating behind the movement. Aaron had seen them do it a million times. But, as Aaron slowly descended, first to one knee and then the other, he’d never felt more clumsy in his life. His limbs were too long, there was far too much of him and—

Patterson’s knuckle came to rest under his chin and the dominant tilted Aaron’s head back until he had little choice but to look up at the older man and meet his gaze.

And, suddenly it didn’t matter how tall he was. Down on his knees, he’d never felt smaller before another man, and he’d never loved that rare, perfect feeling as much as he did right then either.

The dominant ran his hand over Aaron’s head. His hair was too short for anyone to grab hold of, but the older man didn’t seem to mind too much. Aaron cautiously moved his own hands down the back of his head, to make more of his scalp available to the other man’s touch.

“How many times have you imagined yourself kneeling for me since you started working here?”

Aaron didn’t have words to answer him. He didn’t have a single syllable in his head.

The dominant chuckled. “Never mind. It’s probably no more often than I’ve pictured you like this.” He seemed to be talking more to himself than to Aaron, but that didn’t stop the submissive relishing the older man’s words.

“You really…?” Aaron whispered.

Patterson stroked his fingers casually across Aaron’s face until they brushed across his lips. “Imagined you sucking my cock?” he finished for him.

Aaron parted his lips, but no words emerged.

Patterson didn’t complain about his silence. He simply slipped two of his fingers into Aaron’s mouth and made them quickly at home there, easily encouraging Aaron to lick the digits and suck around them.

“Imagined you meant something more than common leather-clad courtesy every time you called me sir?” Patterson went on.

There was no way he could answer unless the dominant chose to remove his fingers. He was effectively gagged and had never been more grateful for permission to stay silent.

“Imagined you bound to a rack, completely helpless and unable to come while I teased you for hours on end? Tied to an Andrews while I whipped you again and again, so gently you’d beg for a real kiss from the whip?” The dominant slid his fingers deeper into Aaron’s mouth, making him murmur with pleasure. “There are lots of things I’ve imagined doing with you.”

Patterson took his fingers out of his mouth then. Aaron licked his lips, suddenly desperate to feel the other man’s cock slide between his lips and fill the emptiness left behind after his digits retreated. “Please?” The word escaped before he could stop it.

Patterson stroked his thumb down Aaron’s chin, gently parting his lips once more. His touch was so gentle, as if the man somehow thought he was the most delicate, fragile thing he’d ever laid hands on in his life, yet there was no humour in his eyes, he didn’t look like he was laughing at Aaron’s expense.

Frowning up at him, Aaron desperately tried to work the older man out.

“You may consider your debt to the slave auction paid.”

Aaron pulled away as Patterson’s words hit the air. He quickly removed his hands from the back of his head, all his worse fears confirmed in one swift blow.

It was his own fault for falling for an unattainable fantasy, he told himself. Why the hell would a dominant like Patterson by interested in someone like him anyway?

*

“But that doesn’t mean I want you to leave,” Patterson added. He watched the submissive very carefully. For all he was a big strong guy, Patterson couldn’t help but think he was also the most fragile submissive he’d ever set eyes on. That, far more than the gorgeous muscles, drew him closer to the other man.

Crouching down in front of the muscle bound sub, Patterson brought them back to an equal height. “Game players may like the idea of ordering a man around all night and knowing he’ll do whatever they say just because they’ve paid for the pleasure,” he said. “But I’m not a game player.”