Tamed

Copyright © 2019 by Tanya Chris (www.tanyachris.com)

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

Note: the first four chapters of this book were originally published in an anthology titled Come, Play. This version of Tamed includes five new chapters.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Thank You!

Chapter 1

It wasn’t fair.

Jake had been eavesdropping on a pair of Doms down at the corner of the bar, and the one closest to him was exactly who he’d been looking for, but of course he already had a sub. Some lucky bastard named Earl. From what Jake had overheard, he and Earl were pretty similar. Big, the Dom kept emphasizing, and surly. Big and surly—that was Jake. If his size didn’t turn Doms off, then his attitude did.

“You’re too big to play brat,” the last one had told him, abruptly ending their scene. And yeah, Jake had been pushing back. He always pushed back. He needed to push back. Maybe it was because of his size, but he had to know that the Dom had it in hand. That the Dom had him in hand. And this guy, the guy at the corner of the bar… sigh.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying taming him,” the Dom’s friend said.

“You know I am, but only because it does him good. He’ll be happier for it. Once he knows who his master is, he can relax, not be on guard all the time. He’s been taught to fight, and I don’t want to break him of that completely, but he needs to know there’s a place he can stop fighting, where he can just lie down and let me be in charge.”

God, it sounded so good. To stop fighting. To lie down and let someone else be in charge. But Jake could only do that if the someone was worthy of it, was tougher than him, could make him feel safe.

There’d been a time when he’d been a scared runt of a gay kid, not yet grown into his body and eager to submit. But a few bad experiences had gotten his hackles up, and six years in the Marines had pumped him up to a size most men wouldn’t mess with. He’d about given up on finding someone who could handle him long term, so he settled on coming to places like this, dressed the part in cuffs and a collar and nothing else except a pair of leather booty shorts he felt ridiculous in. He negotiated scenes with obedient formality, then fucked them up by turning into a brat as soon as things got heated. The Dom would get scared—and scared was not an attractive trait in a Dom—and Jake would push even harder because the Marines had taught him to press his advantage, and the scene would devolve from there.

After developing a reputation that kept even the crappiest Doms from wanting to scene with him, he would move to another club or bar. But there were a limited number of leather bars and BDSM-clubs, even in a place as gay-friendly as LA, and he was about through them. Meanwhile, there stood Mr. Perfect Dom only a few stools away, rhapsodizing about his good boy, Earl, and it made Jake sick.

Lucky, lucky Earl. Where even was Lucky Earl? If Jake had a Dom like this one, no way he’d leave him alone in a club to get picked up by some other needy sub.

“Discipline,” the Dom was saying. “It’s all about consistency. If you have one rule one day, and another on another day, it just confuses them. Leniency may seem loving, but it’s the worst thing you can do.”

Discipline. Now there was a thing Jake didn’t have. Since being freed from the externally-imposed rigors of life in the Marines, he’d found himself rudderless—struggling to accomplish much of anything, frequently letting small but important tasks like paying bills or filling his car with gas slide until not doing them had negative consequences wholly out of proportion to the effort it would’ve taken to do them in the first place. Sometimes he thought about re-upping, just to get back to a structure where he felt safe and could be productive again, but no, he couldn’t bear taking part in endless wars that didn’t defend anything except oil money. He needed to find a way to settle himself into civilian life.

“I could introduce you.”

“Huh?” Jake shifted his focus to the bartender who’d appeared in front of him.

“Eduardo? The guy you been staring at?” Andi flicked her bar rag toward the man in question. “I could introduce you.”

Eduardo. Now he had a name to go with the face. It sent a shiver down his spine—the name smooth but dangerous, matching the faintly hissed esses and the darker coloring. Eduardo’s trim beard was shiny black, the hair on his head short with a hint of curl. He could be ex-military too, the way he held himself so straight, standing at the bar with one foot up on the footrail in a pose both casual and alert, smaller than Jake by a few inches and more than a few pounds, but not exactly small.

“Sounds like he’s taken.”

“Not that I know of,” Andi said with a shrug. “He plays around a bit, but I haven’t seen him with the same guy more than once.”

Rather than being excited about that for his own sake, Jake was pissed for Earl’s sake. Eduardo had been talking like he’d brought Earl home, put time into him and made him feel like he had a master. And now Eduardo was here trolling for a new playmate? It wasn’t right to tame someone if you didn’t intend to keep them.

Jake frowned into the remains of his club soda. “Not interested,” he told Andi. Mr. Not-that-Perfect Dom could go fuck himself.

“Could’ve fooled me, but hey, your choice.” She left him and went straight to the Doms at the corner.

Jake’s attention went with her, even though he didn’t want it to. Eduardo was drinking club soda too, a sign he’d come to play, or at least was leaving himself open for play, so Andi must be right. The other Dom ordered a beer, and she went off to fetch it for him as Jake asked himself why he should care if Earl’s Dom was stepping out on him.

Jake had come looking for a playdate tonight. If Eduardo could give him anything like what he wanted, well, what did he owe this Earl person anyway? Exactly nothing. Eduardo could have a whole bevy of subs waiting at home for him. It had nothing to do with Jake getting what he needed for just one goddamned night, please.

He flagged Andi down. “Maybe I’m interested.”

“Please. You were drooling. Let me see if they’re okay with being interrupted.”

There was some quiet conversation, then a dark head turned Jake’s way with a lifted eyebrow and a devilish smile. Eduardo waved him over, and the brat inside of him considered disobeying even though he’d sent Andi over for the specific purpose of getting the chance to serve. Why was he like this?

He squelched the brat and answered the summons, his footsteps ploddingly slow as he made a point of his reluctance. It was enough to earn him a disapproving frown.

Eduardo’s friend clapped him on the back. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Don’t be silly. We hadn’t gotten around to discussing that deal you wanted my advice on, and you might as well meet our new friend. Perhaps he’ll decide he prefers you after all. He seems to regret his choice already.”

Jake dropped his eyes respectfully. He didn’t regret his choice. He was just a problem.

“So, Jake,” Eduardo said, “let’s get a look at you.”

Jake had never felt stupider in the leather shorts than he did turning around in obedience to Eduardo’s commanding finger. He was too big for shorts, too blond for leather. Leather looked better on someone like Eduardo, dark and commanding, but Eduardo was dressed in a pair of slim-fit jeans and a faded t-shirt, the picture of nonchalance. If it hadn’t been for the tiny pair of handcuffs dangling from one ear, Jake wouldn’t even have been sure he was in the scene.

“Very nice,” Eduardo said approvingly to his backside. “You’re a big one, aren’t you?”

Jake’s shoulders moved toward his ears. Yes, he was a big one. This was the point where Doms told him they only worked with subs smaller than themselves. Because a Dom needed to maintain control. Which was true. It was just… Jake couldn’t help how big he was. Or his attitude either, which was surging up to suggest that Eduardo could go fuck himself again.

“Don’t get your hackles up,” Eduardo said. He moved in close enough that Jake could feel his breath wash over the back of his neck. “You’ve been hurt, haven’t you?”

“Not hurt,” Jake insisted. Not in a long time.

“I wasn’t talking about pain. A lot of things hurt worse than pain. In fact, pain can actually feel quite good, hmm? When it’s deserved.”

Jake’s knees weakened. The urge to rebel softened just a little. He deserved to be punished, deserved it so badly, and if only someone would give it to him…

Eduardo tapped him lightly on the shoulder to command him to face forward again. “We’ll have to talk through what we’re going to do, but for now I want to finish my conversation with my friend, so can you be a good boy for me and wait?”

Jake thought about it for a moment before deciding that yes, he could wait. He could be a good boy for Eduardo. He nodded, and the approval in Eduardo’s smile was worth any amount of wait.

“Excellent. Then go on down to your knees for me.”

Jake lowered himself to the floor at Eduardo’s side and obeyed the firm direction of his guiding hand as it pulled him face-first into his thigh. Jake’s mouth nudged at the bulge of Eduardo’s groin.

“There, that’s it. Don’t slobber on my pants though. No mouthing, just rest.”

Jake chafed at not being allowed to taste. Eduardo smelled so good.

Above him, the two Doms went back to chatting. They weren’t talking about Earl now—he didn’t think he could’ve borne it if they were—but about a business venture the other was kicking off. It seemed Eduardo was a lawyer, or maybe even owned a whole law firm. He gave his thoughts on this subject as confidently as he’d talked about training a difficult sub earlier. The details of the deal eluded Jake. The words were just so much buzz, a background noise easily kept at bay.

He was content for a while, slipping into a subby space from the earthy smell of Eduardo’s crotch and the firm command of his hand, but eventually his restlessness came to the surface. When were they going to do something? Had Eduardo forgotten about him? This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. They hadn’t even discussed what he’d signed up for—not safewords or limits or anything.

Maybe he should stand up. Yes. He should definitely stand up. He should tell Eduardo to go fuck himself—

It was the third time he’d mentally told Eduardo to go fuck himself in the space of half an hour, which was exactly the reason Doms didn’t want to play with him. But, fuck. How long was he meant to kneel on a tacky barroom floor and be ignored?

He started to stand up, but Eduardo dug his fingers in a little deeper, a soft tch coming from under his breath. It was no more than that, no formal acknowledgement of his presence, but somehow it was enough. Rebellion died away, and there was only this.

He hardly noticed when the friend took off except that Eduardo patted himself on the chest to call Jake to him. Jake went up higher on his knees, bringing his head to rest on Eduardo’s abdomen. Eduardo ran his hands through his hair and rubbed at the shell of his ear, his nails scratching lightly over Jake’s skin.

“How was that?”

Jake found himself nodding, a little too deep under to make words happen. Once he’d stopped thinking about how much he didn’t want to stay still, the staying still had come easy, and now it was as hard to move as it’d been not to earlier. Eduardo took his nod as an answer, continuing to stroke him gently but firmly and regarding him with dark approving eyes.

“You did very well. I’m pleased.”

The flush of pride that went through Jake almost did him in. No Dom had ever been pleased with him at the end of a scene, only sometimes at the very beginning, before things got away from him.

Except, wait—

This wasn’t the end of the scene, was it? They hadn’t even done anything. But Eduardo was tugging him up onto his feet and handling him dexterously onto a bar stool. He asked Andi for a glass of water and a brandy.

“The drink is for me, though you can have one once you’re feeling more yourself.”

“Are we done?” Jake couldn’t help allowing some petulance to slip into his voice.

“For today.”

“But we didn’t do anything.”

“We did plenty. We got to know each other. We had a little scene, which we hadn’t negotiated, but I think we worked through it well. What do you think?”

Andi came back with the water, and Eduardo held the glass up to Jake’s mouth until Jake wrenched it away from him.

“It was all right.” He put the glass down, mostly empty. He’d definitely been thirsty.

Eduardo waved to Andi for another, then sipped at his brandy with a look that suggested he was waiting for Jake to go on.

“I liked being at your feet. It felt like a start.”

“It was an excellent start.”

“But not enough.” He was caught between an endorphin haze and dissatisfaction. He wanted to get beaten, to have a proper scene. That was why he’d come to the club tonight. Not to spend an hour doing nothing except kneeling.

“That’s for me to decide.” Eduardo slid a business card out of his wallet. “I’m not a fan of long conversations immediately prior to a scene, but I am a fan of not doing something to someone they haven’t consented to, so fill out one of those kink checklists you can find online and email it to me. Once I’ve had a chance to review it, we can set up a second session.”

“But—”

“Or you can find a different Dom. I won’t negotiate with you. I’ll respect your boundaries, but I won’t negotiate. That’s all you need to know about what kind of Dom I am. Understand?”

Jake understood. He wasn’t going to get his way tonight. If Eduardo could be believed, he wasn’t going to get his way ever. Which, if that were true, was exactly what he wanted.

So why did he feel so angry?

It wasn’t fair, that was all. He deserved a scene.

“We don’t have to negotiate anything,” he suggested. “We could scene, and you could just do whatever. I don’t have boundaries.”

“But I do. And I just gave them to you.” Eduardo threw back the rest of his brandy in a single gulp that had to burn. “Since you’ve recovered enough to be difficult, I believe we’re officially done. Think about it, Jake.” He tapped Jake on the nose like he was a misbehaving puppy and walked off in a flourish of masculine grace.

Jake put the card in his pocket and finished his water. Then he ordered a drink. He wasn’t scening tonight apparently. He’d been given his orders.

Chapter 2

Kink lists were stupid. They were stupid because they were full of things Jake was supposed to like or not like or not like but be willing to do, and what Jake really wanted was to not decide any of that.

He knew what he liked in a general sort of way. He liked spankings. That was, he liked the idea of them. But he wanted the spanking to be something he didn’t want, for it to not be about him rubbing off on someone and them rubbing off on him while both of them pretended it was for discipline when really it was for getting off.

He did get off on being spanked, sort of, but once he started getting off on it and noticing how the guy spanking him was getting off on it too, the whole thing got ruined. He would start fighting, the guy spanking him would ask for a color, and the phoniness would grow until the only real part was the part where he was fighting—disobeying because his Dom couldn’t make him obey.

He didn’t care about the trappings of it all—what position he was in or whether he had a gag or a butt plug. Whatever his Dom wanted, as long as his Dom wanted it and chose it and made him take it. All he cared about was that punishment be real, not a game whose rules they’d agreed to beforehand. And that seemed impossible to convey using a list that’d been specifically designed for agreeing to the rules beforehand.

He’d been trying for two weeks now—pencil in hand—marking and then erasing and then marking again, writing something next to a box to try to explain, and then crossing the explanation out so hard Eduardo would never be able to read it.

He was about to print out a fresh list and start over when the uselessness of it all hit him. If it hadn’t been Eduardo, he wouldn’t have tried so hard, would’ve just randomly checked boxes for things he didn’t hate too much, or things he particularly did hate, and handed it over without giving a fuck. But he’d liked that hour he’d spent at Eduardo’s feet, liked the way Eduardo talked about Earl and how he’d tamed him, how he’d made Earl docile and content. And so Jake had tried, really tried, to get the paper filled out right.

But it wasn’t ever going to be right. He couldn’t do a kink list just like he couldn’t do anything. He drew an X through the page and wrote EARL across the top in big block letters, then folded the list down into a little square so he wouldn’t have to look at it again.

Instead of emailing it to Eduardo as instructed, he staked out the club where they’d met, tipping Andi extra to keep her eyes out for him. When she finally pointed him out, he was in the middle of the club floor chatting with a woman dressed like a sub. Seeing him with yet another sub made Jake so furious he stormed over and shoved the square of paper into his chest without so much as an excuse me. Eduardo caught his wrist before he could stalk away. He didn’t say anything—just pointed at his feet with an arched eyebrow.

Jake wanted to kill him. Just, really, what the fuck? Did this guy think he could get away with that after Jake had spent two weeks trying to fill out that fucking form? Did he really think Jake was going to kneel at his feet because he pointed to them?

The woman in her dainty ruffles smirked at him, and Jake thought fuck you, he’s mine, and dropped to his knees so hard his kneecaps cracked against the tile. Let her compete with that. Eduardo nodded at him approvingly, then went back to the woman.

“As I was saying, Rebecca, you’ll find a crate improves his behavior considerably.”

Rebecca didn’t look like a Domme. Must be a switch. Well, whatever she was, she should go find whoever needed to be put in a crate and put him there. Leave Eduardo alone.

Would Eduardo put Jake in a crate? He might not mind having a place he could go if he was feeling ragey, where he wouldn’t be able to break anything or scare anyone. He was conflicted about restraints in general. They were a way for his partner to maintain control despite a size discrepancy, but when his body was restrained, his mouth usually got worse. And when that got restrained too? Then he flipped out completely and Doms told him “it stopped being fun.”

Jake sighed. He was a loser, and this whole thing was pointless. The trouble wasn’t the Doms he played with. The trouble was him.

He started to get to his feet, but Eduardo said settle, so he settled. He’d chased Eduardo down to shove a list in his face. He could wait until it got read.

Rebecca went away—thank you, Rebecca. Eduardo took his hand off Jake’s head to unfold the kink list then put it right back on there, scratching mindlessly as he read. Jake kept his eyes lowered. A minute ago he’d been mad, but now he was embarrassed about having body slammed Eduardo with a messy piece of paper that had another sub’s name written across it.

“Do you know who Earl is?” Eduardo asked.

“Your sub?”

“What makes you think so?”

“I heard you talking that day—about Earl and what he needed from you.”

“Structure? Sternness?”

Jake nodded yes to all that.

“I didn’t say anything about punishing Earl. I don’t punish Earl. Not in any way you’d find on this paper.”

“Because Earl behaves himself all the time like a fucking pussy?”

A sharp rap landed on Jake’s nose. “That’s a word you won’t be using. You will not denigrate women, gay men, or anyone else for that matter. Is that understood?”

Jake grumbled something that was almost a yes and received another sharp rap for it.

“Yes, okay? I know I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Better. Now, to get back to my point. I believe you do want to be punished.”

“I’ll deserve it. Even if Earl doesn’t.” He already did, apparently.

“Oh? You’re planning to disobey, are you?”

“Can’t help it.” There, he’d told Eduardo the truth. “I’ll do the same to you as I do to anyone. Ask around. They’ll tell you.”

“I have, and they did.” Eduardo crouched down next to him. “Is it for show, or would you really assault me?”

“Neither. I don’t do it on purpose. I just get…”

“You go into combat mode.”

“Yeah. But I wouldn’t hurt you, wouldn’t touch you. I’ve never done that.”

“So I’ve learned. Very well. I believe we understand each other.”

They did? That was a surprise to Jake, who didn’t even understand himself. He’d agreed he wouldn’t hurt Eduardo, but what else had he agreed to? Somehow Eduardo had gotten more out of that checklist than he’d expected.

He felt a little panicked. He’d ticked some of the boxes out of contrariness, which didn’t seem very smart now, but then it never was. That was exactly how he got himself into these messes. He acted out in a fit of temper, did something completely counterproductive to his own best interests, and then slogged through the resultant shitstorm knowing he deserved it.

Just once, just for sometimes, he’d like to not live in the middle of a shitstorm.

Eduardo stood up, his knees making little popping noises as he did. “I could never be a submissive. My knees wouldn’t bear it. But you do beautifully on your knees, don’t you, big guy?”

He pulled Jake’s face into his crotch like he had the other night, and Jake went willingly, taking deep breaths to find the scent that’d haunted him these last two weeks. It was there—subtle but reassuring. He’d knelt for Eduardo before, and Eduardo had said he’d done good after. He could do this.

Above him, Eduardo had his phone in hand. “I’d like to start a regular regime. Consistency is key, I find. What time do you get out of work?”

Jake gave him his hours, and Eduardo typed them in.

“All right then. Tomorrow night, I want you to go home, eat, shower, and be at my place at seven.”

“Your place?” Jake rocked his head back to look up at the smiling Dom who ruffled a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, my place. You’re going to need to meet Earl.”

*****

So Earl got to live with him, huh? Lucky Earl.

Or maybe not. Maybe Eduardo was hell to live with. Jake sure was. He’d never had a roomie the whole time he’d been in the Marines who could stand him. Sure, he seemed like an okay guy at first—quiet and clean without being obsessive about either—but eventually something would go wrong and he’d get in a mood. Then it’d be pushups and jumping jacks and hour-long showers and day-long naps. Or worse.

The holes in the walls. The yelling.

He always hated himself for it after, and it wasn’t as if guys in the service had the most even tempers. They looked the other way on a lot of shit, knowing sometimes you had to get your rage out. But eventually it always got to be too much for his roommates and they bailed. Put in for another housing assignment or moved off base. Whatever they had to do to get away from him.

Fucking Earl, though, who never needed to be punished. No one bailed on him, Jake would bet. Apparently this guy was so goody-goody he didn’t even realize he ought to be pissed about his Dom bringing another sub home. No way Jake would let his Dom get away with that shit. He’d be out of there in a flash. Even the idea of sharing Eduardo with someone who had dibs on him didn’t sit well. Earl better not be watching their scene, that was for sure. Watching and judging his perfect, smart ass off. If Jake heard one comment out of him—

He rang Eduardo’s doorbell with one foot already pointed away from the door. The cozy bungalow wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Too small and cute. He was surprised Eduardo hadn’t whipped its crooked corners into a uniform compliancy, hadn’t commanded the building to stand up straighter, refusing to allow it to slouch into the shrubbery where it blended into the hodgepodge of blooming plants surrounding it. Jake lost a little of his glower as he surveyed the honeysuckle twining over the door mantle. He half-expected Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother to answer the door, but it was Eduardo.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet here.” Eduardo ushered Jake into a small foyer tiled in dark brown. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if you weren’t big enough to take care of yourself, but we’ll be more comfortable here, and I always prefer privacy for punishment.”

He was being punished already? “I haven’t done anything wrong,” he complained as he toed off his shoes in response to Eduardo’s gesture.

“You don’t think so? Well, we’ll discuss that, amongst other things. All your clothes off, please. I keep the house at a temperature warm enough to allow it.”

As if Jake needed it to be eighty to get naked. He was a fucking Marine. But that explained why Eduardo was only wearing a pair of grey athletic shorts and a navy t-shirt.

“Today, please,” Eduardo drawled when Jake hesitated after folding his shirt into a tidy rectangle and leaving it on the bench at the side of the foyer.

It wasn’t the temperature that had him hesitating, nor was it any fear about how he looked naked. He looked good naked, and he damn well knew it. He flexed his pecs, but that failed to either impress Eduardo or distract him.

“I gotta meet Earl naked?” A man wanted to be clothed to meet his rival. And he didn’t want to play with Earl. He should’ve put that on his form when he’d had the chance. No outside parties, no spectators.

“Of course. Earl.” Eduardo smiled a smile that didn’t make any sense. “How could I have forgotten?” He put his fingers between his lips and gave a high whistle. The responding clatter of claws tipped Jake off even before a Doberman came careening around the corner.

Earl was a big one, all right, but he went right up to Eduardo to sit obediently at his feet, his head tilted to suggest he was keeping an eye on the stranger. Eduardo put a hand on Earl’s head and presented him proudly.

“He’s a beauty, isn’t he? A rescue with a problematic past. He had a hard time adjusting, but I think he’s settled in now. Just needed a firm hand and a little positive correction, didn’t you, boy?” Eduardo crouched down and gave Earl his face to nuzzle. “Come on down here and meet him. You okay with dogs?”

“Love them.” He got down next to Eduardo on the tile floor and let Earl smell him. Earl was dark all over except for caramel feet and a matching snout. “How long have you had him?”

“About six weeks now. He was a mess when he came here—alternately skittish and aggressive—but he’s a fine dog now. I’d trust him with my life.” Eduardo rose. “Go to your bed, Earl. Bed.”

The dog hesitated, obviously preferring to remain with the two of them. Maybe Eduardo didn’t have Earl as well trained as he thought. But then Earl turned and trotted off as commanded.

Well, damn. So Earl really was perfect. And here Jake had already been sentenced to punishment when he hadn’t done more than set foot in the house. He took off the rest of his clothes before Eduardo could reiterate the order and was told to kneel.

“We’re going into the living room. I want you to stay on your knees and follow me. You’re familiar with the command heel?”

“I’m not crawling after you like a fucking dog. I’m not into that.”

“Then you should’ve written that down. You can crawl or not, your choice. But you’re to stay on your knees and follow at my heel.” Eduardo strode off as if he didn’t need to look to know Jake would follow, and after a moment of internal warfare, Jake did. Not on his hands and knees like a dog, because fuck that, but up on his knees like a man. Like a man who was walking on his knees, whatever the hell that meant.

The tile, which hurt, gave way to wood, which also hurt. His knees were already bruised from that swan dive yesterday, and now every ounce of his two hundred and sixty pounds drove them like a pile driver into the unyielding surface beneath him. And all the while, Eduardo walked on, not quicker than Jake could manage to keep up but not checking on him either, just a sedate stroll toward an unknown stopping point.

Wood gave way to rug—soft and black, high-piled like shag, a rectangle of it, on which rested a glass coffee table and a dark brown leather couch. Eduardo seated himself on the couch and patted his inner thigh to bring Jake closer. Jake’s knees throbbed. He’d been a fool to abuse them when he didn’t know how much time he was about to spend on them.

Some pain could make him fly—take him out of his body and all the problems that lived inside it. That pain—the kind that came from order being imposed—made him feel like all his mismatched bones were being broken and reset, rendering him straight and whole again. But the pain in his knees right now wasn’t that kind of pain. It was the kind of pain that reminded him of his first week of boot camp, when he’d been alone—lost and homesick—regretting that he’d put himself there, not sure he was good enough to survive it, feeling like in all the world there wasn’t a soul who would help him.

Eduardo pulled Jake’s face in tight against his groin and did that soothing thing with his hand, stroking him like he did Earl. Taming the wild beast.

“Do you often do this to yourself—cause unnecessary harm out of stubbornness?”

“Sometimes.” Only every day.

“We’re going to stop that behavior.”

“We are?” Jake rolled his face up to see Eduardo’s.

“Perhaps I should say I am. If you were capable of stopping it yourself, you’d have done so.”

That stung because it was true. No matter how often he told himself to count to ten or grin and bear it, he couldn’t change how he reacted in the moment. Which was with a fuck-you rebellion that never hurt anyone except him.

“Let’s go over the rules,” Eduardo said, stroking Jake’s head back down into the valley of his groin. “You already learned some of them. You’re to disrobe when you arrive. When I tell you to follow me, you’ll heel. I suggest using your hands, but”—Eduardo shrugged—“don’t expect leniency in other ways if you choose not to. The punishments I administer will be specific, fair, and of limited duration, whereas the harm you bring on yourself is open-ended and potentially out of proportion. Something for you to think on.”

“Like you said, I’ve already thought on it plenty. Hasn’t changed anything.”

“Exactly. Hence my punishments, which I’ll administer whenever you fail to follow the rules. Rule three: don’t damage my property. You are my property. Rule four, all tasks are to be completed diligently, showing proper respect for the fact that I gave them to you. Five—”

“How many rules are there?”

“Very well. Five. No interruptions or backtalk of any kind. Six—” Eduardo paused, giving Jake the chance to dig himself in deeper, but he managed to keep his mouth shut for a change. “Six, during punishment I expect you to address me as sir. At other times, anything respectful will be fine.” He paused, then added. “Please don’t shorten my name to Ed. The short form of Eduardo is Lalo.”

“Lalo,” Jake repeated. Eduardo’s dick had plumped up a little. It made a nice bulge against his face—firm and masculine through the light layer of grey cotton. Maybe Eduardo would fuck him after punishing him, except there wasn’t likely to be an after. Why bother setting out rules as if this night were going to be repeated over and over when it would inevitably end with Eduardo throwing him out of the house?

Most Doms wouldn’t have taken a chance on having him in their home—not given his reputation for non-compliance—but now that he’d seen Earl he understood why Eduardo wasn’t worried about what Jake might to do him. Earl monitored them closely from a fleece-lined, bright blue doggie bed inside an amply large crate, the door to which stood conveniently open. One command, and he’d tear Jake limb from limb.

“So,” Eduardo said, “now that you understand the rules, can you tell me why you’re going to punished tonight?”

Jake went back over them in his head. Naked, check. Heel when following, check. He had damaged himself by walking on his knees down the hardwood hallway, but Eduardo had told him he was getting punished as soon as he came in the door, so it wasn’t only that. All tasks to be completed diligently— Oh.

“Because I didn’t fill out the form right?”

“Because you didn’t fill out the form at all. You defaced the form, but you didn’t fill it out. I gave you a task, and I expected it to be completed.”

Jake scowled. “Picking out my own punishments isn’t punishment. That’s just getting off.”

“Many people do get off on BDSM. They would consider getting off to be the point. Tell me what the point is to you.”

“I just want it to be real.”

“Real punishment?”

Jake nodded.

“Because you deserve it?” Eduardo hummed when Jake nodded again. “The reason for the checklist is that I want to discipline you without harming you. Punishment is steady, bearable, corrective. A little humiliating, a little painful, but not traumatizing or triggering. So you’re going to try that form again, but this time I just want you to highlight the things that are hard no’s for you. I’ll manage the rest. How does that sound?”

“I can do that.”

“All right then. Punishment.” Eduardo picked up a black leather glove from the end table and tugged it onto his right hand, fastening the Velcro strap snugly around his wrist. “Lists aside, I use hand spankings almost exclusively when it comes to punishment, so that’s what we’ll be doing tonight. Ten for failing to execute on the task I assigned you and ten more for causing unnecessary damage to your knees.”

Twenty spanks administered by hand was nothing. Eduardo shouldn’t even need a glove for it. Still, it wasn’t fair.

“I didn’t know the rules when—”

“Ten for talking back.”

“I can’t even fucking point out that—”

“Ten more.”

Shit. Forty. Suddenly the glove made sense. The devil on Jake’s shoulder tempted him to keep going. He didn’t deserve ten for walking on his knees when Eduardo had said he could, but he probably deserved more than ten for making such a mess out of that form.

And the talking back. He’d definitely been talking back when he could’ve shut up and taken twenty easy. Now they were getting into the range where he might start fighting, and fuck, he wanted this to work. He really did. Eduardo was so smooth, so certain. So handsome in an upright way, like an idol Jake didn’t dare approach.

So why was he arguing with him? He swallowed his tongue, casting his eyes downward in an attempt at showing obedience.

“All right then,” Eduardo said in the same tone he’d used to add to Jake’s punishment. “Up you go, over my lap.”

“I’m not going over your lap.”

“Fifty.”

“Fuck, Eduardo.” He needed to be restrained to a bench or something. He would thrash, possibly do damage. “I’m not going to fucking fit over—”

“Seventy.”

Jake opened his mouth to question how they’d just jumped from fifty to seventy, but Eduardo held up a finger to stop him, and Jake wisely shut it again.

“Think, Jake. What other rule did you just break?”

Rule one, naked. Rule two, heel. Rule three, no property damage. Rule four, complete tasks diligently. Rule five, no talking back—man, he’d fucked that one up. Rule six—

“Call you sir when I’m being punished.”

“Good boy.”

Jake beamed at the praise, realizing that the time he’d spent reviewing the rules had lowered the wall of resistance that’d been going up, much like counting to ten did when he actually remembered to do it.

It wasn’t his job to figure out how Eduardo was supposed to control a man of his size. Eduardo would find out for himself that it wouldn’t work. So when Eduardo patted his thigh again, Jake clambered over it. His upper chest ended up over the arm of the couch, which was padded enough that it didn’t hurt, and his legs were supported by the couch itself. His ass laid neatly over Eduardo’s lap, and Eduardo shifted a thigh to prop it higher, making it a more obvious target. Eduardo’s dick, meaty and plump, but not hard, nestled into Jake’s stomach and Jake’s, which was likewise uncertain, butted up against Eduardo’s thigh.

With the couch bearing most of his weight, the position was manageable if embarrassing. He hadn’t been over someone’s lap for a spanking since he’d been a much younger, leaner man, and the Marine in him screamed at him to get up off of there. Taking lashes while keeping to his feet—that was what a man did.

“We’ll do these in sets of ten.” Eduardo’s hand rose, then dropped again with a sharp smack.

Ouch. That’d been no warm up. Jake endured the next nine. Each one landed in a different spot, so that by the time the first set had ended, his entire ass felt sweetly warm. If he hadn’t been adding to his punishment since the moment he walked through the door, he’d be done now, and though he knew he was capable of taking a lot more, the thought of how he’d screwed himself—as usual—pissed him off enough that he brooded his way through the second set.

The smacks were landing harder now, the leather adding to the sting as Eduardo thoroughly covered his ass for a second time, hitting flesh that was already sore. He launched into a third set without so much as asking for a color.

Well, Jake hadn’t wanted to be asked, had he? But Eduardo didn’t know that, and it wasn’t right of him to carry merrily on without checking. Fuck that asshole. Eduardo thought he was so big because he had Jake ass-up over his lap, but they’d see about that.

He started to kick, drumming his legs against the couch and squirming his hips away from the descending blows. When that didn’t provoke a response, he reached back and grabbed Eduardo’s wrist.

Eduardo sighed. “You make me do so much math. Let’s see. That was seventy, minus twenty-four, plus ten equals…”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Plus another ten brings us to… sixty-six,” he concluded. “We’re going to be here all night at this rate. And that’s fine, big guy. That’s just fine. You do what you have to do. I won’t quit on you.”

“You fucker.” Jake had had enough. He wrenched himself off of Eduardo’s lap, off the couch altogether. He loomed over Eduardo, making his body big and bulky. “I’m just supposed to let you pound on me all night?”

“Seventy-six.”

“Then you better fucking tie me up, because if you think I’m going to lie still and take it—”

“You’re going to lie still and take it. Eighty-six.”

The fucker. The absolute fucker. Sitting there all calm. Fucking counting. As if Eduardo could count high enough to scare him. He refused to be intimidated by a shitty Dom with a spanking fetish.

Meanwhile Eduardo didn’t appear to be intimidated either, even though Jake was pacing back and forth in front of him, fists clenched, his face getting warm in that way that meant he was turning into a red version of the Hulk.

“Earl, settle.” Eduardo’s command to the dog made Jake realize that Earl was concerned by his raging even if Eduardo wasn’t. Earl was up on all fours, ears perked high. A low growl rumbled from his throat, but at Eduardo’s command he lay back down, ears still on alert but obeying his master.

God, Jake wished he could do that—that he could be good for his master. Lie still and take his punishment—punishment he deserved. He really did deserve every stroke of it. He’d been such an ass to Eduardo, asking for a firm hand and then rebelling when he got it. And now behaving like a wild thing, towering over him, naked and enraged. He was just—

He was the worst.

He plunked himself down on the far end of the couch and buried his face in his hands, not sure how to go on. Put on his clothes and leave? Chalk up another failed encounter?

“Come here, big guy.” Eduardo gave his thigh a firm tap.

Really? He could just go over there and start again?

Slowly, waiting to be told no, he crawled back over Eduardo’s lap.

“There we go.” Eduardo ran a hand down the length of his spine. “Eighty-six. I’d like it if you could try not to add more, so I’ll be counting any further resistance as both talking back and as unnecessary damage.”

Really? Eduardo didn’t want to add any more, so he was going to add them twenty at a time? It would be funny if it weren’t hopeless. They’d never be through it. Jake would never be good. He didn’t even care about the physical pain. He just wanted to be good.

The smacks started again, first a quick six to get up to a round number, then those sets of ten. A familiar pattern, rhythmic and certain. A brief pause during which Eduardo rubbed a gentle hand over his back, then another set. Jake’s mental struggle to not resist, not talk back, turned into a physical struggle as the pain mounted. This was genuine punishment now. It hurt.

The pain burned white through his mind, rendering the angry tangle of his emotions into ash as it went. His body began to resist of its own accord, thrashing and jerking, trying to escape the inescapable next blow. There was panic—he was being bad. He was being bad, and he didn’t want to be bad. But he couldn’t keep still anymore. It hurt too much, was too relentless, too real.

Eduardo finished another set. His hand brushed comfortingly over Jake’s back. “There, there. You’re doing so well now. Another thirty, and you’re through it. You can kick if you need to. As long as you’re not kicking me.” And he began again.

Thirty. Another thirty. How was it even possible? He wanted to take them all—knew he deserved them all—but he couldn’t. His body gave way to tears. The frustration, the hopeless helplessness, the conflict—all of it came out in ugly, heaving sobs. Punishment would go on as long as it went on, as long as he deserved to have it go on. There was nothing he could do to stop it. All he could do was take it.

“There.” Eduardo’s voice broke through the white noise of his own sobs. “All done, big guy. All forgiven. You want to come up here? Or would you rather stay like that a bit?”

Jake cried harder. He was grateful the spanking had stopped, but he didn’t feel finished somehow.

“Okay, that’s fine. You can think on it for a bit. Demonstrate proper remorse.”

Remorse. That was it. He was remorseful. He’d made Eduardo spank him so hard, for so long. Eduardo’s hand must be exhausted. He’d taken the glove off, Jake could tell from the softer feeling as he rubbed and caressed the flesh he’d tortured. Jake liked the attention, liked that his shame was on display. He crossed his arms over the arm of the couch and pillowed his head on top of them, keeping his face turned from Eduardo to hide it.

He was embarrassed now about the fuss he’d made—all that backtalking and kicking and the pitiful tears. But he also felt wrung out in a peaceful, contented way, like he could lie here the rest of his life knowing he’d taken his punishment. Eduardo let him stay there for a long time until he’d settled enough to be more embarrassed about enjoying lying there than he was about anything else.

He pushed himself up to sit next to Eduardo on the couch, his ass a bruised and stinging mess beneath him. He scrabbled at his cheeks, trying to erase the tracks of his tears. Eduardo handed him a box of tissues and he blew his nose, then didn’t have anywhere to put the used tissue and fumbled with it until Eduardo took it from him and executed a perfect three point shot into a wastebasket in the corner.

They smiled at each other over the beauty of that shot, then Eduardo patted him on the thigh.

“I think that’s good for today. Tomorrow you’ll bring that form, and maybe there will be some tweaks, but you’ve got the general idea of what we’re going to do every night.”

“You’re going to spank me?” Jake asked doubtfully.

“I’m going to discipline you. We’ll go through your day—determine what mistakes you’ve made and how much punishment they warrant—and then I’ll administer it.”

“So you’re running my whole life now?”

“Someone has to do it.”

“And that’s it? There’s no sex or… scene?” Jake hadn’t actually sprung a boner that whole time. And if Eduardo had gotten off on it, Jake hadn’t noticed. Eduardo had been like a loving but stern father—determined and calm, not horny or creepy.

“Perhaps we’ll get there,” Eduardo said with a smile. “You’re too wild for more than a disciplinary relationship right now. Affection, trust—those things are earned. For now, let’s work on getting the rest of your life in order.”

Eduardo made him sit at the kitchen table and drink a glass of juice while he wrote out his to-do list for the next day. First thing on it was making another stab at the kink list. Below that, Jake wrote down the tasks he knew he’d do—like exercise—and then, with more prompting from Eduardo, he added some things he ought to do—like the mindfulness exercises that helped with his impulse control problem and working on his job situation.

Eduardo sent him home with a pat on his head and his to-do list in hand. His ass ached, but his knees ached worse, and he remembered Eduardo saying his punishments would be finite and purposeful compared to the pointless and more lingering pain Jake brought on himself.

Tomorrow he’d do better.

Chapter 3

The day started off well. It started off so well, in fact, that it actually started the night before, with Jake sitting at his kitchen table, laboriously and neatly completing a fresh copy of the kink list. That was one item checked off already.

He rose the next morning with an unusual sense of optimism. He was going to be super productive, very calm. There was a lingering ache in his ass and bad bruising around his knees. Asses were fleshy and made to recover. Knees were not. Also, asses were hidden. The guys at the gym were going to give him shit for having bruised knees, but fuck ‘em. He’d spin a story about a long blowjob on rough ground, and that would have them backing off quick enough.

Besides, a little teasing was worth it in exchange for the settled feeling that a good scene brought on. He’d cried last night. Cried hard. He’d pleased his Dom, a rare enough occurrence, and had gotten a good night’s sleep, and now he was ready to tackle the world with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face.

The guys at the gym did razz him about his knees, and also about his smile, but his smile only made the blowjob scenario all the more likely, and they were too hetero to handle listening to him brag about what they thought they could make fun of him for.

Jake wished the bruises really were from going down on Eduardo. He hadn’t seen Eduardo’s cock, hadn’t even felt it fully hard yet, only some chubbiness that suggested Eduardo was into men or at least into dominating them. But Eduardo hadn’t made it sexual between them last night, and though Jake had appreciated that in the heat of punishment, he hoped things would go differently tonight if he didn’t give Eduardo any reason to punish him.

But the day got away from him, his attitude slipping as people were their usual asshole selves. He hated his job doing “security” for a college campus, which mostly involved responding to complaints about students congregating where they weren’t supposed to and mediating low speed accidents in parking lots. Fill out this paperwork, show me your insurance card, how fast were you going when it happened?

The job had nothing to do with what he’d learned in the Marines, which was cyber security, not parking lot security, but he hadn’t figured out how to turn his knowledge and experience into a civilian job yet, so he got hired for his size not his skills. Taking his resume to the VA center for some guidance was one of the items on his to-do list, but by the time lunch rolled around, the last thing he wanted to do was schlep over there and listen to a runty kid in a shirt and tie drone on about actionable bullet points or whatever-the-fuck, so instead he went to the pond and watched children feed ducks shit that ducks weren’t supposed to eat. The resume would wait until tomorrow. It’d waited this long.

He ate a hotdog for lunch—definitely not on the diet plan—and then, getting anxious as his day kept sliding more and more off-kilter, had words with his boss when he got sent out on another noise disturbance call. He came within a few words of getting fired, and wouldn’t have cared if he did, before stomping off to do a half-assed job of clearing the quad. If the professors were so in love with the sound of their own fucking voices, they could close their fucking windows, but he got the frisbee-throwing kids relocated closer to the dorms and went back to the office to clock out.

According to the list, he was supposed to do his grocery shopping now—pick up a healthy variety of ingredients to make meals for the week—but fuck if he was in the mood for fighting some mama with a brood of snot-nosed children over a box of cereal, so he swung through a drive-thru on his way home and ate french fries with one hand while flipping people off with the other.

By the time he was on Eduardo’s doorstep, a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand, he knew he’d fucked up. The low-level voice that’d been telling him all day that he wanted to fuck up so he could get his ass beat good and proper had given way to a more anxious voice that wondered if Eduardo would take one look at his not-done to-do list and send him away.

Why would Eduardo want a shitty sub like him? Why would anyone? He’d been given a few simple tasks, all of which were designed to help him, and he’d pretty much totally failed at them. And now he wouldn’t get to suck Eduardo’s cock. He should’ve been good. He should’ve. Why did he always have to ruin everything?

Eduardo opened his front door just as Jake had about talked himself into turning around and leaving, and Jake handed him the papers, not caring whether Eduardo liked what was on them or not. He stood silent and sulky in the foyer until Eduardo whistled for Earl. He couldn’t be mad at Earl, so he bent down to give him a proper greeting, enjoying the warm solidness of his body. Earl seemed to be telling him that he’d been there too—that he knew how hard it was to be a good boy. He licked up over Jake’s face with a tongue wet enough to make him laugh.

“That’s enough,” Eduardo said. “Go to your bed, Earl.”

Jake straightened reluctantly as Earl trotted off in immediate compliance. Eduardo was glowering at him, so he stripped, making quick and tidy work of it. It was too late to bring a completed to-do list, but he could at least not antagonize his Dom further. When he got his pants off, Eduardo tsked at the sight of his knees.

“I shouldn’t be indulgent, but you can remain on your feet today. We have enough to get through as it is.”

Jake swallowed, his bravado gone. How many things had he left unchecked? Three? Would that mean thirty swats? That was nothing after yesterday. He just needed to remain calm and not add to the number—grit his teeth and let Eduardo do it.

In Eduardo’s living room, he got into a familiar position—on his knees between Eduardo’s legs. Eduardo held him there for what felt like a long time, the scent of his groin rising into his nose, giving him a feeling of settled security. He’d been bad today. He’d been bad, but Eduardo hadn’t sent him away. Eduardo would make him better, and he’d be forgiven. Like yesterday.

He took a deep inhale and pushed into the bulge in front of him. Eduardo’s hand was light on his scalp, scratching soothingly over his hairline.

“You did a good job on the kink list,” Eduardo said. “I’m pleased with that.”

Already Jake wanted to cry for the loss of what he could’ve had.

“And I see you completed the tasks you said were easy for you to handle—a healthy breakfast, working out. But then we get to these other items. Tell me what happened there.”

Jake told him. In too much detail. How there wasn’t any point in polishing his resume because no one was going to hire him anyway, how feeling stuck in a job not worthy of his training had led to him having words with his boss, how that confrontation had made him too agitated to deal with a crowded grocery store, how the whole day had unwound before his eyes.

“It started here, didn’t it?” Eduardo pointed to the spot on the to-do list where Jake should’ve done his mindfulness exercises.

“I was running late. I meant to get to it later, but—‍”

“Then it started here.” Eduardo put his finger all the way at the top of the list, before there was any writing at all. “Sounds like you need to wake up half an hour earlier to make sure there’s time for this. We’ll make a new list for tomorrow, and you’ll do better. For today, looks like you owe me…” Eduardo ran through the calculations in his head as he tugged on his glove “… forty.”

“Forty?” Jake regretted the question almost as fast as he’d gotten it out. Watch it go up to fifty now. But Eduardo actually answered him.

“Ten for each unfinished task, plus ten for talking back to your supervisor, though perhaps you deserve more than ten for that. Sounds like there were multiple instances.”

Jake kept his mouth shut. There’d been a lot of instances. So forty it was. He crawled up onto the sofa, the position familiar now after the amount of time he’d spent in it yesterday. His ass smarted from yesterday’s spanking, but he could do this—could keep calm and get through it without adding to his punishment.

The first set of ten was a warmup. Yesterday he’d thought it wasn’t, but that was because he hadn’t known how hard Eduardo could go or how much a hand spanking could hurt. The very first smack was a good reminder—awakening last night’s pain for a reprise—but it wasn’t until the second set that the wallops really got fierce.

Jake tensed with the growing urge to revolt. Who did this? Lay like a child and allowed another man to hit him? Accepted the increasing sting of heat, listened to the slap of leather against flesh, and felt the reverberation echo through him? Who believed he deserved such a thing?

Well, he did deserve it. He’d known the rules, and he’d broken them, and they’d only been for his own good, but fuck. Fuck this. He was a fucking adult. Eduardo didn’t own him. If Eduardo thought he could—

It was over. He’d done it. He’d taken his punishment. Hadn’t yelled, hadn’t resisted, hadn’t cried. But he didn’t exactly feel relief either. What he felt was balled up—furious and ready to explode, taut with anger, his whole body aching with it, worse than the fire in his ass. Eduardo’s hand rubbing over the fire pissed him off. He didn’t need to be soothed, and it wasn’t fucking soothing anyway. It hurt, the fucker.

Jake gritted his teeth, clamping down hard. He was so close to being done with this, to having suffered his punishment successfully. He wished he felt better for it, that there’d been the catharsis he’d experienced yesterday even if it had broken him down to nothing more than pain and tears. At least there’d been a release.

Eduardo stood him up with a stern look. “Since you aren’t yet repentant, I’m going to assign corner time.”

“Who says I’m not repentant?” What the fuck did that mean—repentant? He’d taken his punishment.

“Your attitude says you’re not repentant. Go stand in the corner, nose to the wall, hands on the small of your back. I’ll set the timer for fifteen minutes. Let’s see what that does.”

Stand in the corner. Sure. Hands on the small of his back. Sure. Like parade rest. No big deal. Except he was fucking naked with his fucking red ass hanging out. Eduardo had spanked him like he was a misbehaving child, and now he was standing in the corner like a banished child. What the fuck kind of game was this? How long had it been? There was no way that hadn’t been fifteen minutes.

He twisted his head around to try to find a clock, and Eduardo said, “Every time you break position, I’m starting the timer over,” and fuck no, they weren’t playing that game. He knew how this came out. It was yesterday all over again. Soon he’d have racked up a couple of hours of corner time because he was about to go fucking ballistic.

“Listen—” he said, ignoring the turn-around gesture Eduardo made. “Don’t even start this—”

“Come here.”

That was more like it. A blowjob or something. Treat him like an adult.

But no. He hadn’t been summoned over to give a blowjob. Rather Eduardo guided him down onto his lap and gave him ten more sharp slaps with his gloved hand, then dismissed him to the corner again.

Jake didn’t go. Of course he didn’t. He continued to rebel, earning more punishment, ten or twenty smacks at a time, until he’d taken even more than he had yesterday, until his ass was so tender that every smack made him dance away from it. Tears flowed freely down his face, snot choking up his nose, as he begged Eduardo to please not.

Eduardo put him on his feet again. He could barely stay there, dizzy with trying to breathe through his stuffed nose, the world blurry around him through his tears.

“Corner time,” Eduardo said patiently, as he had after every round. “Fifteen minutes.”

This time, Jake made his way to the corner. It was nice in the corner. Quiet. Why had he been so resistant to it? The backs of his hands brushed the top of his red ass, reminding him to be grateful it wasn’t getting redder. His breathing settled, though he continued to cry. He was here because he’d been bad. And unrepentant. He’d put both Eduardo and himself through hell.

A warm, soft weight settled on his feet, and he looked down to see Earl curled around them, his head on his paws in a sad tableau like he knew how bad it felt to have made Eduardo mad. Jake expected Eduardo to send Earl back to his crate, but no command issued from behind him, and the two of them finished Jake’s time in the corner together.

When Eduardo called Jake over to him, he crawled there, not minding his knees, to bury his face between Eduardo’s thighs, tears falling again as Eduardo stroked over his head.

“I’m sorry,” he gushed. “I’m sorry.”

“There you go,” Eduardo said gently. “That’s all I was asking for, hmm? A little repentance. But you’re good now, big guy. All forgiven. Come on up on the couch with me. I’ve got some treats for you.”

Jake slid onto the couch, not sure how to go about it. He was too big for cuddles, but he wanted them badly. Eduardo reclined against the arm of the couch and steered Jake into his chest, and Jake managed to curl up with only his ass hanging off the deep cushion. Eduardo covered them with a throw, and that was nice—cozy and warm—but he accepted the sippy cup Eduardo handed him with a suspicious eye.

“Just so I don’t end up with juice all over my couch. It’s hard to drink lying down, but I want you here for a bit.”

Jake wanted to be there too, so he sipped from his sippy cup and ate the treats Eduardo fed him—baby carrots and chunks of hard cheese, all approved items from his nutritional plan. Eduardo gave him kisses on the cheek and the top of his head, and Jake felt like a perfectly cared-for child until he started to feel like a man again.

His cock perked up, distending the throw he’d been wrapped in, and he squirmed against Eduardo in an intentional way, trying to convey that he’d like to move this relationship forward, but Eduardo sat him up and brought out that damned notepad again. Jake huddled with the blanket wrapped around him, sullenly answering Eduardo’s questions about what he needed to do tomorrow.

Didn’t Eduardo want him? Eduardo never even got hard while spanking him, not full-hard anyway. Jake was used to scenes ending in one of two ways: with sex or with him storming out. If he actually managed to finish a scene, there was supposed to be a reward. And this wasn’t it.

Cuddles and treats, sure. A promise that they’d see each other again tomorrow, great. But was this all of it—just him being bad and Eduardo punishing him for it?

Well, he’d see about that. Tomorrow he wouldn’t be bad, and then he’d find out.

Chapter 4

Jake went home with a to-do list for the next day very much like the one he’d carried home the night before. The only new item on it was to set his alarm a half hour earlier, which he promptly did. He didn’t have any trouble getting up early the next morning because he fell asleep early. Early and hard—drained by all that crying and the roller coaster of emotions.

He woke up energized, his ass tender but his knees improving, and cruised through breakfast and a workout with enough time to find a quiet corner on the mats and do his mindfulness exercises. They were a combination of meditation and slow stretches, and they helped. He knew they did. It wasn’t like he never did them, just not routinely enough, and there was no question his day went better when he did.

The morning passed in a blur, and he walked over to the VA career center at lunchtime almost without thinking about it. The counselor they assigned him was pleased with what he’d done on his resume so far. Jake wasn’t incompetent, just uncertain, and the harder he worked on it, the more he became convinced it was all a pile of dog shit.

But the counselor said it wasn’t dog shit—in nicer terms than that—and helped him polish it to perfection. He left her office with a red-marked copy of his resume and a list of job openings that matched his skillset, a whistle on his lips and a swing in his stride.

The afternoon was a little rougher, but he bit his tongue when it wanted to get sassy and managed to end his workday without having told a single person off. The drive-thru called like a siren, but he was so close to checking off every item on his list that he kept his eyes and his steering wheel resolutely pointed straight ahead and drove right on by it to the grocery store where he stuck to his shopping list until he hit the prepared food aisle.

It had been a long day. And that pre-cooked package had the same chicken and broccoli he’d been planning to make and would only take three minutes in the microwave. Before he could go to Eduardo’s, he still had to put away the groceries and take a shower. There was probably time to make dinner too, but…

The package went into the cart and then, later, into his mouth, where it wasn’t as tasty as it’d looked. But it had the required nutrients and got him over to Eduardo’s on time, spit-shined and smiling.

Eduardo greeted him with a smile to match his own, then took his checked-off to-do list from him and whistled for Earl, who came bounding in with sharp-eared enthusiasm. They were pals now, Jake figured, after Earl had kept him company last night, so he got down on the ground and let Earl slobber all over him, playing with him as long as Eduardo let them get away with it.

When Eduardo sent Earl off to his crate, Jake stripped and dropped to his knees. They were good enough today for him to manage, and Eduardo gave his hair a ruffle of approval before heading for the living room with Jake following on all fours at his heel. It felt like the beginning of a routine—a routine he was finally not fucking up.

In the living room, he snuffled into Eduardo’s crotch with a happy sigh. He loved being here, and for once there was nothing to dread about what would happen next.

“Good boy,” Eduardo said as he looked over Jake’s to-do list. “Look at you getting everything done. Tell me about the rest of your day. How was work?”

Jake went over his day, pleased and proud to have Eduardo listening to him with such attention, until he got to that bit at the end where he’d eaten the prepared meal. Would he be punished for that? He looked up at Eduardo with anxious eyes, waiting for his judgement.

“Well.” Eduardo scratched behind Jake’s ears thoughtfully. “This seems like the sort of thing you can use your own judgement on. If you get into a habit of it every day, I might have to set some guidelines, but spending an extra couple of dollars for prepared food once or twice a week isn’t going to break you. I’m pleased with you for being honest about it, though. Anything else you need to tell me?”

He’d been good. Good. Eduardo had said so, had read off every item on his to-do list and praised him for accomplishing it, and the one thing Jake had worried about had turned out to be nothing at all. He shook his head, unable to come up with any other infraction.

“Excellent.” Eduardo folded up the paper and dropped it on the end table. “Then there’s nothing to punish you for today. Oh dear, does that disappoint you?”

It sort of did. He’d been so proud of having been good for a change that it hadn’t occurred to him until just now that if there was nothing for Eduardo to punish him for, then maybe there was nothing for them to do. Eduardo might send him home, and this would all be over. No release, no catharsis. Maybe being good wasn’t so good after all.

But Eduardo tipped his chin up and smiled into his eyes. “When you don’t need to be punished, you get a reward.” Jake liked the sound of that. “I’m going to have you take another stab at that kink list. This time, I want you to highlight everything you’d considered a reward. And remember, it’s okay for you to enjoy your reward, even if it’s not something someone else would enjoy. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Like a scene?”

“Exactly like a scene. Anything you want, except a spanking or corner time. Why not a spanking or corner time?”

Jake wet his lips, thinking on it. “Because those are for punishment.”

“That’s right.” Eduardo accompanied his smile with a kiss for Jake’s nose. “I don’t want any association between punishment and fun. You aren’t meant to enjoy being punished, just like I don’t enjoy punishing you. I do it to help you, because you need it. But if you’ve been good, and would like me to hurt you, there are other ways I could do that. Or it doesn’t have to be pain. Rewards can be pleasure too. Since I don’t have your list of ‘yes, pleases’ yet, I’ll have to wing it for tonight.”

Eduardo tapped his chin as he considered. Jake knew what he wanted, of course, what he’d been waiting for, and he couldn’t take his eyes off it—that sweet, plump bulge nestled into Eduardo’s shorts. It made his mouth wet.

“Is there something you’d like to ask for?” Eduardo said. Lightly, like he was teasing.

Jake swallowed and raised his eyes. “Can I suck you?”

“I’d enjoy that.” Eduardo’s fingers tangled in his hair, and he gave a gentle pull, just enough for Jake to anticipate what was to come. “I have a feeling you’ll be good at it. Do you want me to tell you what a good cocksucker you are while you suck me?”

Jake nodded, eager for the praise, and Eduardo cooed at him in appreciation. “That makes me so happy. I can’t wait to have your mouth on my cock and to tell you how good it feels. Go on, Jake. Take it out.”

Jake reached into Eduardo’s shorts and down under the briefs beneath them to find his cock. It was soft, but hardening, a handful already. It would be a good thick one, perfect for choking on. He held himself back from stuffing it straight down his throat, reminding himself to take it slow. This was his reward. He got to play with the thickening length, appreciate its growing weight. He’d had an idea Eduardo was packing, but the full extension was more than he’d expected, reminding him that Eduardo didn’t get off on punishing him. Eduardo wanted him to be good. And now he had been good, and so this—this lovely hard cock—was all his.

The scent of Eduardo was more intense without layers of cloth in the way, arousing instead of reassuring. The deep musk of it played over his tongue like something tangible, like a flavor he could lick up. Lots of smooth flesh to suck and lick and relish, Eduardo’s hands steering him only lightly, allowing him to explore at his own pace. Not until he’d been nibbling around the shaft for several minutes did Eduardo say his name with a groan.

“Come on, big guy. Give me love. Show me what you can do.”

Jake rose higher on his knees to position himself over the knob he’d made shiny and wet, and then he swallowed it—all the way down to the root in a single gulp, the way he’d been trained oh-so-many-Doms ago. It was a good skill, one that had Eduardo gasping and rocking, his hands rougher now in Jake’s hair, issuing commands at last.

Jake liked that he’d driven Eduardo past the point where he could pretend this reward was only for him, that he’d compelled Eduardo to start taking for himself. He curled his fingers around Eduardo’s balls and let Eduardo do the rest, accepting the forceful thrust of his cock into his mouth and down his throat. Eduardo was so big, it was almost too much even for his honed technique, but he loved it. Loved working hard and doing well.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be good at this. You’ve got a mouth just made to be fucked. Where’s all that sass now, huh? You’re on your knees and taking it, and you love it. Love being used.”

He did. It was difficult to get into this mindset—he could only do it for a master worthy of it—but it brought him to a place more calming even than his mindfulness exercises. Everything inside him was settled and at peace. He existed only for this.

“I’m going to give you my load now, Jake. Swallow it for me? Be my good boy?”

Somehow Jake managed to nod. Not a lot of movement, but enough for Eduardo to notice because he clenched down hard on Jake’s head, thrusting deep, and blasted down his throat, his cock pulsing so hard Jake felt it like a heartbeat in his mouth. He spluttered, a little out of practice, and immediately the cock was gone. He swallowed the last traces of come, then sought out whatever more he could find on the slowly softening cock in front of him.

“Okay?” Eduardo asked.

“Mm hmm.” Happy.

“Now for my reward, I get to make you come.” Eduardo patted the couch, and Jake sat next to him, his legs shaky from how long he’d been on his knees and how turned on he was. All his blood was in his cock, which stood up straight from his body like a pole.

Eduardo pulled a tube of lube from the end table and slicked up his hand. He worked Jake over with a stroke worthy of a professional, all the while murmuring about how good that blowjob had been, about how hard he was going to make Jake come in return. He did, too. Jake shot like a fountain—come everywhere—but Eduardo only laughed and fetched a wet cloth to wipe him down with.

He went away with the cloth and came back with Jake’s clothes, and after a moment’s consideration, Jake put on his boxers but nothing else. Clothes said time to go home. He wasn’t ready to go home, and Eduardo didn’t make him. Instead he pulled a blanket over the two of them and turned on a movie.

“Can Earl sit with us?”

Eduardo beamed at the question. When he summoned Earl over, Earl tried to climb up onto them like he was a lap dog. Jake knew how that felt—wanting to be smaller than you were—so he helped hoist Earl up until he made a semi-comfortable flop across both their bodies.

“Earl was pretty rough when you got him, huh?”

“He’d been through a lot.” Eduardo’s fingers scratched around Earl’s ears the way they so often did around Jake’s. “He had good reason not to trust anyone, but dogs aren’t so different from people. They need someone they can count on, need rules they can live by.”

“I guess that’s me too.”

“I know. But I’ve got you now. You’re going to be okay. Just like this big guy here.”

“Why would you want me though? I understand wanting a dog.”

“But not wanting a sub?”

“I don’t see why you’d want either one if they’re trouble. There are easier dogs out there.” And easier subs.

“I like Earl’s spirit. I like making broken things better.”

Aw. Eduardo was sweet. Maybe foolishly optimistic, but sweet.

“As for you,” Eduardo said with a more wicked grin. “I’m hoping we’re going to have some fun together once you’ve got your need to fight authority under control. You want to submit, I can see it.”

Jake nodded.

“And I’m going to help you do it. I like your spirit as much as I like Earl’s, but it’s time for you to meet your master.”

Jake leaned in harder against Eduardo’s side, confident he’d met his master and that his master could bear the burden that was him. He rubbed Earl’s belly and let Eduardo rub his and promised himself that tomorrow would be another good day.

Chapter 5

Jake had earned this. A solid week of being a good boy had resulted in orgasms and affection and plenty of time spent with Eduardo where he didn’t have his nose stuck in a corner, but he was ready for something more, for a scene. A reward scene.

The habit Eduardo had drilled into him of stripping at the door as soon as he got inside meant he was already naked as he knelt between Eduardo’s knees basking in his approval. He’d ticked every box on his to-do list. He’d even sent out a half dozen resumes. He’d been good, good, good, and now Eduardo was considering the other list Jake had made. The reward list.

Jake squirmed a bit, keeping his mouth pinched shut. He wanted to direct Eduardo to his favorite things, but he knew better, so he stayed quiet, wishing with his mind instead of his mouth. Getting fucked would be excellent—he definitely hoped Eduardo would choose that—but a little pleasure-pain would be nice too. It’d been so long since he’d been able to enjoy his kink without it all going wrong, but if Eduardo played with him, he’d behave. Not be a brat at all.

“Ooh, I like this one,” Eduardo said without turning the paper around to show him what he was looking at. “Let’s do that, shall we?”

Jake could only agree. Whatever Eduardo had picked out, it must be something Jake would like since he was the one who’d written it down. He mentally ticked over everything on the list. Were there any gotchas on there? No, no, it was all good.

“Let’s go to the bedroom. Not you,” Eduardo warned Earl, shaking a finger at him to stop him from following. Earl whined softly. “I’m not sure how he’d react to what I’m planning to do,” Eduardo explained with a quirk of his eyebrow. Jake shuddered. He was about to get worked, apparently. Good.

He’d never been in Eduardo’s bedroom before. It had a less-ordered feel than the rest of the house, with things set out on top of the bureaus, not all tucked squarely away, and more soft surfaces, all of which were washed in pastel desert colors. The room was big, plenty of space to set up a scene in the middle with the bed angled into a far corner. And was that a…?

“Spanking bench,” Eduardo confirmed, going over to fondle the padded leather. “I don’t use it for spankings, of course.” Because Eduardo spanked over his lap. Jake knew that fact intimately.

“What do you use it for then?”

“You’re about to find out.” Eduardo slid open a mirrored panel to reveal an array of items that weren’t clothes. “Go ahead and lie down.”

Jake wanted to see which of the things hanging in the closet Eduardo would pick, but he obeyed so the scene wouldn’t go sideways before it’d even started. He lay down face first, draping his upper body over the bench. His arms trailed to the floor, and his knees rested on the mat Eduardo had placed beneath it. The mat was soft, like the ones he used for his mindfulness exercises at the gym, and the position wasn’t uncomfortable, only revealing and anticipatory.

“Restraints.” Eduardo crouched down in front of him. “Just for the fun of it. Remember, this is a reward, so say yellow if you need a break or red if it’s not working for you. But I do expect you to be respectful. Use your manners.”

“Yes, sir.”

Something touched Jake’s right wrist, and he looked down to see Eduardo fastening a Velcro cuff around it which he clipped to a link in the frame of the bench. His left wrist got the same treatment, then both his ankles, and now he was trapped, stuck, no longer able to use his strength to control the situation. He tugged on the restraints, his mind immediately sparking into resistance.

“Are you going to be good for me?” Eduardo came back up in front where Jake could turn his face up to see him. “Or is this too much?”

“I can do it.”

“I don’t want you to fail,” Eduardo said with a frown. “Not tonight.”

“I won’t fail.”

He wanted to please Eduardo, and he looked forward to being hit. He liked being restrained, too. It was just that whenever the restraints came out, the brat in him and the marine in him teamed up to tell him to fight.

“I’ll be good,” he promised, more to himself than to Eduardo. This was what he’d been hoping for—a scene and maybe a fuck. A little fun-pain, a little pleasure-pain. One of those instruments of destruction hanging up in Eduardo’s closet applied all over him.

With a soft motorized whirr, the bench rose, leaving him dangling and even more helpless. Then something thin and leathery snaked over his back.

“Guess,” Eduardo prompted.

“A whip.”

“What kind?” The slither traced lower, tickling the backs of his thighs.

“Um, a carriage whip maybe?”

“Very good. And this?” Something thicker with more spring, less flexibility.

“Cane?”

“Ooh, you’re good at this. What a good boy you are.”

Jake felt a brush of wet pressure against the top curve of his right ass cheek. “Lips,” he said with a grin.

“Cocky.” There was a second press of lips and then a tap on his ass—hard and completely unyielding, wide and flat.

“Paddle.”

“Very nice. Last one.” Hard again, but thin and snappy.

“A ruler, maybe?”

“Exactly. I like the ruler. It has a disciplinary feel. Very schoolboy.”

Eduardo sounded turned-on, and Jake liked the sound of him turned on. He knew Eduardo enjoyed dispensing discipline. Obviously. It was all they’d done so far. But Eduardo had been careful to restrict their punishment sessions to pure punishment. If discipline was his kink, maybe Jake could give it to him with a little role play.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get my assignment in on time, teacher,” he offered.

There was a long inhale behind him and then another tap of the ruler against his ass.

“How many times have I warned you about handing your work in late?”

“I didn’t mean to, sir.”

“You never mean to, you wicked little boy.” There was a firmer tap of the ruler, almost enough to hurt. “I guess there’s only one way to make you behave.” The first real strike, sharp and cutting.

“Please, sir. I’ll be good from now on, I promise.”

“Jake.” Eduardo was in front of him, crouching down so they could look other in the eye. “Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to.” But Jake could see the way Eduardo’s cock distended the front of his trousers, how hard he was from a couple of swats and a little playful dialogue.

“I’m sure.”

“Use your colors then, so I’ll know if you change your mind.” Eduardo tipped his chin up and kissed him, right on the mouth. Jake chased the kiss, wanting Eduardo’s mouth so much he was ready to skip the scene and go straight to sex, but Eduardo straightened up and went around behind him again.

The ruler whistled then struck, making firm contact with the spot where his ass cheeks met the tops of his thighs, perfectly placed for maximum zip, and Jake remembered he wanted this too.

“You’ve been thoroughly irresponsible,” Eduardo said, landing another perfect blow. Jake yipped, the sharpness darting straight to his cock.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Sorry isn’t enough.” Zing, whip, ouch, yip. “There’s only one way to get through to a boy like you.”

“Please, sir. Please.”

Please more, his body cried, opening up to the pain, letting it blossom through him. The first strikes had been tough to take—intense without any kind of warmup, landing right on the spot where he would feel them most keenly—but the pain was radiating outward now, infusing him with that special heat that made his head light and his cock hard. And Eduardo was loving it. Jake could hear it in every word. He was pleasing his Dom—getting to be rebellious in a playful way because he’d been good, was being good, was doing exactly what Eduardo wanted him to do. All those Doms who’d told him he was too big to play brat, and not one who’d ever wanted him to play brat.

“You can’t do this to me,” he protested, getting into his role. “I’ll tell the principal.”

“You think the principal won’t tan your hide twice as hard?” Eduardo whacked him good, a little higher up on his cheeks where he had more cushioning but wasn’t as warmed up, and Jake gave an anguished cry that was only half acting. Man, Eduardo had an arm.

“You’re lucky I’m going easy on you.”

“Ow, ow.” Jake wished he could throw a hand back and take the ruler across it, feel that bad schoolboy thwack. He struggled against his restraints.

“Stay still and take your punishment.” Eduardo delivered a volley of slaps that had Jake’s blood singing. “Or I will call the principal. He’ll teach your ass a lesson it won’t soon forget.”

“Please, sir. I’ll be good.” Jake had never role-played like this before, but it was kind of fun. This bad boy who was getting punished and pleading for mercy wasn’t really him, so it didn’t trigger his instinctive rebellion, and since this wasn’t real punishment, he didn’t mind that Eduardo was getting off on it. Not at all.

“I doubt you even know how to be good.” Eduardo was laying the blows on thick now—across the globes of Jake’s ass and all up and down his thighs, finding every unmarked spot and marking it, showing no compassion for the imaginary schoolboy.

“I’ll do anything you say,” Jake’s alter-ego promised. Fuck, his cock was hard.

“Oh, now he wants to be good, does he? What’s the good boy going to do for me to show me how sorry he is?”

“Anything, sir. Mercy!” But he didn’t want mercy, not really. The pain in his ass was flaming, almost unbearable, and the pain in his cock was just as bad, but he was flying high—a rush burning through his nervous system so bright he could almost come from this alone.

Eduardo responded to his plea for mercy with a particularly hard strike that landed in that sweet spot at the top of his thighs, the one that’d already been well worked over, and Jake yowled at the fierceness of it, panting and rutting his cock against the bench. God, a little more.

“What would you do for me?” Eduardo asked again, just tapping him with the ruler now—a threat and a warning. “Would you take my cock in your virgin ass?”

Virgin. LOL. “I can’t. It’s too big.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to beat the badness out of you.” The light tap-tap of the ruler turned into another flurry of sharp swats, continuing unabated until Jake was desperate for what Eduardo had offered him.

“I’ll do it. I will.”

“What will you do?”

“Take your cock, sir.”

“You’re going to have to be a very good boy and take every inch of it. I don’t want to hear any crying about how big it is.”

Jake whimpered, aroused but pretending to be scared. “Please be gentle with me, sir.” Please, sir, tear me up. “I’ve never done it before. I’m afraid it’s going to hurt.”

“It is going to hurt, Jake. I can’t be gentle, not with such a bad boy.”

Eduardo undid the restraints—ankles first, then wrists. His fingers shook as he worked the clips, the intensity of his arousal spiking Jake’s even higher. He couldn’t wait to have that fat cock slamming into him. Eduardo would make it rough, destroy him with it. Fuck, it was so good he could barely pretend not to like it when Eduardo made him kneel on the bed on all fours and present his battered ass.

Rude fingers pierced him without warning—slick with lube, but rough with intent. Jake yelped like the virgin he was pretending to be, but the intrusion felt good, perfectly balanced against the throb of his brutally tanned skin and the insistence of his terminally hard cock. He squirmed away because the role-playing allowed him to be difficult about getting exactly what he wanted, and Eduardo slapped him right on the red roughness of his ass.

“You asked for this, you bad boy. You can go back over the bench if you don’t want teacher’s cock.”

“Please, sir. Give me your cock. I can take it.”

“We’ll see about that.” The head of Eduardo’s cock butted up against his hole, fat and threatening. “Beg for it.”

“But, sir,” he whined.

“Unless you want more of the ruler.”

He really did want Eduardo’s cock, but Eduardo made him beg beyond the point where he was playing, until he was sobbing with want and frustration. When Eduardo finally pierced him with a single commanding push, he gasped in relief.

“Thank you,” he said, even though Eduardo hadn’t ordered him to. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted as Eduardo went at him hard, yanking his hips back to meet his thrusts, driving him forward onto his hands with so much force he couldn’t maintain his position.

“Do you understand the consequences of your behavior now, you bad boy?”

“I’ll do anything you say. I’ll be so good. Only please can I touch myself? I’m so close.” He’d been too close for too long. If Eduardo didn’t give him permission to come, he was going to come without it.

“Bad boy,” Eduardo said, not giving him permission at all. “Such a bad boy touching yourself while teacher fucks you.

Jake grabbed for his cock, permission or not. He couldn’t stop himself from doing it, and Eduardo’s sharp words only gave him an extra bratty thrill. He was a bad boy—jerking off without permission while teacher fucked him. Coming without permission while teacher fucked him. His orgasm broke over him, his come jetting onto Eduardo’s bed in a few frantic bursts as he made a noise that wasn’t entirely human.

“You like having teacher’s cock in your ass, don’t you? You wicked thing. So bad. So bad. So bad.” Eduardo repeated himself as he came too, his mouth stuck on the last thought he’d had. He stuttered to a stop, leaning heavily against Jake’s thighs, his breath wheezing in a way that almost had Jake alarmed.

“Fuck, that was good.” He gave Jake a push to send him sprawling, then dropped onto the bed next to him. “Holy shit. I haven’t come that hard since I was your age. You enjoyed it too, I see.

Jake winced at the wet spot that was proof of his enjoyment. “Am I in trouble for coming without permission?”

“Of course not. That’s not a rule we ever discussed, and besides, this was a reward. You come all you like, big guy.” Eduardo ruffled his hair in obvious approval. “I should’ve taken the duvet off before we got started, though. Now I’m going to have to wash it.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault. My duvet and my scene. I just didn’t expect it to be so hot. You melted my brain with all that teacher talk. There was no way I could hold off long enough to deal with a trifle like the bedding.”

“Maybe you ought to be punished,” Jake said, feeling a little giddy.

“My punishment will be to spend twenty minutes wrestling the duvet cover back on, but I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Thank you for that. It was lovely.” He wrapped an arm around Jake’s neck, hooking him in close, and planted a kiss right on his mouth. Not a brief one either. Not a kiss you’d give a child or a dog or a sub who needed reassurance, but a real kiss, deep and surprisingly tender.

“Now,” Eduardo said, pulling back a bit. “What do you need from me? Food, water, lotion?”

“Just this.”

“Do you want to stay the night?”

“Really?”

“I’d like for there to be more between us than discipline, but it’s all right if you don’t.”

“I do. I think I do. What would more be like?”

“We can figure that out as we go, but it could start like this. Stay tonight.”

Jake nodded.

“There’s just one thing I have to warn you about.” Eduardo opened the bedroom door. He gave a whistle, and Earl came running, bounding up onto the bed in a single leap.

“I can’t believe you let the dog sleep in your bed.” Jake ruffled Earl’s face. “I knew you were a softie.”

“Only for my very good boys.”

“We won’t tell, will we, Earl? You and me—we got the best master in the world.”

Chapter 6

Jake handed Eduardo his to-do list as he returned the kiss Eduardo greeted him with.

“Excellent work. I’m impressed. I thought you might have had too much on your plate today.”

“I got through it.” Barely.

He followed Eduardo into the living room in stocking feet but otherwise dressed. Over the last month, he’d fallen out of the habit of getting naked in the entryway. It’d been so long since he’d needed punishment, and sometimes the two of them went out—for dinner or to take Earl to the dog park—so he saved getting undressed for the reward portion of the evening.

“Nervous about tomorrow?”

“A little.” He cracked his knuckles, earning a frown.

Eduardo had taken a seat, but Jake didn’t sit down next to him. He was glad to see the glass next to Eduardo’s elbow held something clear and effervescent—club soda, not brandy.

“I was wondering if we could scene tonight.” He didn’t usually get to choose his own rewards, but right now he didn’t care if asking for a scene pissed Eduardo off. He hadn’t fucked up for a whole goddamn month, and he deserved whatever the fuck he wanted.

“Need something to put you to sleep tonight, huh?” Eduardo tugged him down onto the couch next to him, and Jake let him rub circles that were meant to be soothing into his temples. “That interview does have you anxious.”

One of the seemingly hundreds of resumes Jake had sent out had finally borne fruit. Just when he’d been starting to wonder if there was a difference between submitting your resume and throwing it straight in the trash, he’d gotten a call from a recruiter. The job would be perfect for him too, if only he could convince them he’d be perfect for it. Which he doubted he had the skills to do.

“How did your coaching session at the VA go?”

“Fine.”

Not fine. His case worker had pretended to interview him, and he’d thought he’d done all right—made eye contact, kept his shoulders back and his answers brief—but at the end she’d said he came across as stiff and unnatural, that civilian companies looked for a looser posture, a more relaxed give-and-take exchange of information. So now he figured he might as well not even go to the interview. But he couldn’t tell Eduardo that. Eduardo would be disappointed, maybe angry, maybe punish him. Which was exactly what he was in the mood for, except he didn’t want to ruin this thing they had going on.

Eduardo wasn’t the only guy Jake had ever made it through a scene with, but Eduardo was the only guy he’d ever dated—slept with and watched TV with, who asked him about his day and really cared about the answer. Sometimes Eduardo fucked him good and hard, and sometimes he made Jake get down on his knees and blow him until his jaw ached and he was swimming in that soft endorphin haze he always got between Eduardo’s thighs. But sometimes the sex was pretty vanilla. The other day, Eduardo had given him a blowjob—the sensation of a mouth moving gently over his cock so sweet and long-forgotten, it’d had its own intensity.

Jake didn’t want to screw any of that up. He liked being with Eduardo. Liked being good for Eduardo. And so he tried. But every day it got harder, the itch under his skin growing more insistent. The marine in him enjoyed praise, but the brat preferred rebellion, and the brat was very close to winning.

“Can we?” he asked, dislodging Eduardo’s massaging fingers by twisting in his direction. “A good scene—a rough one.”

“Maybe cops and robbers? I could slap the handcuffs on you, take a baton to your ass. Maybe take your ass with the baton,” Eduardo suggested with a leer. “How does that sound?”

“Good, yeah.” He’d get to play at resistance, have his ass beat red enough that he’d have a hard time sitting on it at the interview tomorrow. It would give him something else to think about, at least. “Let’s do that.”

“All right. I’m going to put Earl out. He’s gotten so attached to you, and he hasn’t figured out what’s play and what’s not yet.” Eduardo led Earl into the kitchen and out the back door into the fenced-in yard. Earl gave an unappreciative bark when he realized he was being left out there alone, but Eduardo told him to settle and he did.

“I never imagined I’d have to worry about my dog preferring my sub to me,” Eduardo said as he came back into the living room where Jake was pacing around waiting for the scene to start already. “He recognizes a kinship with you, I think.”

On any other day, those words would make Jake feel good. He loved having a dog. Not that Earl belonged to him, but Earl thought he did—thought Jake was pack and Eduardo their leader. But today he couldn’t be bothered with Earl, didn’t even feel bad about him being put out. He just wanted to get on with it.

“Go ahead and strip,” Eduardo said. “I’ll get some props.”

Jake folded his clothes up neatly on the coffee table and went back to pacing. He gave a low whistle when Eduardo came in wearing a police uniform. Fuck, he looked good in that. When you saw someone every day, you stopped appreciating how hot they were, but Eduardo filled out the uniform in a precise, square way that screamed authority. He really had a fucking baton too—a long, black hunk of wood shaped like a mini-baseball bat he was tapping against his palm. All right, this would be good. It would be fine. He’d get a good beating, get his rocks off, and the pressure that made the inside of his skull feel like a bomb about to explode would fizzle away.

“What kind of contraband are you carrying, boy?” Eduardo snapped on a pair of latex gloves. Prepping for a cavity search. Cute.

“Not a fucking thing.” This was his opportunity to be surly, but it was just… ugh.

“We’ll see about that.” Eduardo wrestled him over to the arm of the couch. “Bend over and spread.”

“I’m not bending over for you, copper.” His resistance was honest, but the words felt like lies. This ought to be working, but it wasn’t. Role-playing was something he did to please Eduardo, and right now he didn’t give a fuck about pleasing Eduardo. Because he wasn’t a good boy. He was a bad boy. The worst. He deserved to be punished, not played with.

Eduardo grabbed his wrist and yanked it around behind his back, but when he tried to slam a cuff on it—

Jake just didn’t feel like it. He felt like fighting. Had felt like fighting all day. This playacting was bullshit. A scene was a game—not real, not punishment, not anything like what he needed. Fake-Jake might allow a cop to push him around, but real-Jake would never put up with that shit. He jerked away, hard enough to send Eduardo stumbling.

“Give me your arm,” Eduardo ordered when he’d regained his balance.

“Make me.” He took a stance, his fists raised and ready. “Come at me, fucker.”

“Jake?”

This was going wrong. Very wrong. But wrong was what he wanted. He lunged forward and snagged the baton out of Eduardo’s belt. “Did you think this was going to be enough?” he taunted as he brandished it in Eduardo’s face. Come for him with less than a gun and see what happened. He was a fucking Marine.

Eduardo went very still, not fighting Jake the way he wanted to be fought, only watching him with alert eyes. Outside Earl howled, the sound ricocheting around the quiet living room. They both knew Jake was out of control—were afraid of him. Hated him.

He flung the baton away because he wanted to use it. Wanted to smash and hurt and take out all the rage bubbling inside him. The sound of shattering glass said the baton had broken something, which wasn’t what he’d intended, but fuck. Fuck this. Fuck Eduardo. And mostly fuck him. He was so fucking fucked. It only made him madder.

“I think that’s the end of that scene,” Eduardo said.

Oh, that was the end of the scene, all right. Jake had just destroyed Eduardo’s… whatever. He looked over his shoulder and saw it was a lamp—a delicate spun-glass shell in the lightest seafoam green, a piece he’d always admired. Now half of it sat on the sideboard and the other half was in a dozen pieces scattered across the floor. The lamp was broken, the scene was broken, the bond that’d been growing between the three of them was broken, and Jake didn’t even know if he cared because the rage hadn’t broken, was still clogging his throat and burning like coals in his chest.

He turned back to face Eduardo and found him swapping out his latex gloves for the black leather glove he wore for discipline. He took his customary spot on the sofa and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Like you said, scene’s over.”

“This isn’t a scene anymore. This is punishment. Let’s see, ten strokes for the lamp—you’re getting off easy there. For talking back…? Without knowing exactly when you stopped playing a character and started being you, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and call that twenty. Thirty altogether.” He patted his lap, as if Jake was really going to put himself over it.

“Listen, you motherfucker—”

“Forty. You know how this works.”

In the background, Earl was still barking up a storm.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Eduardo stood up. Had he changed his mind? Jake had never seen him back down before. Eduardo disappeared into the kitchen and then Jake heard a series of barks and the skitter of Earl’s nails over the tile.

“No,” Eduardo commanded. “Quiet.” Another bark, not as loud. “Quiet,” Eduardo repeated, a little quieter himself this time but still firm, and Earl finally hushed. “Go to your bed.”

Earl walked into the room with his head down. He climbed in his bed and wrapped himself into a circle, giving Jake a glare before turning away in obvious dismissal. Jake turned away too. It wasn’t his fault Earl had gotten himself in trouble. Except it was. Earl had thought someone was being hurt, and someone almost had been.

Earl was being good now, but good didn’t come as easily to Jake, not once he was riled up, and there was no undoing the damage he’d done, just like there was no chance he’d get that job. He was a fuck-up who fucked things up.

Eduardo got back into position on the couch. He tapped his thigh, just like he had a minute ago, and said, “You know how this works, Jake. Take your punishment, show remorse, and it’s over. You don’t have to keep racking up more punishment, and you don’t have to walk around with this on your conscience. You can end it whenever you’re ready.”

Could he really? Jake sidled a little closer. He’d ruined their scene, waved a weapon in Eduardo’s face, and then thrown it recklessly around his house. Did Eduardo really want him anywhere near him and his belongings ever again?

Eduardo didn’t stop him as he made his way, inch by slow inch, up to the sofa and over his lap.

“There you go. I knew you could do it. What number were we up to?”

“Probably a million,” Jake said sullenly.

“Probably a million, what?”

“Sir.”

“If I give you a task, I expect it to be completed correctly. So let’s try that again. What number were we up to?”

“Forty, sir.”

“Better. So forty plus the extra twenty you just earned is sixty. Let’s begin.”

Eduardo’s gloved hand thumping briskly against his ass wasn’t anything new, but Jake was ashamed of having ended up in this position again. No restraints, no whips, no playacting. This was the realness he’d asked for, and he felt it in every smack, all through his body.

Bad boy, bad boy, bad boy.

He hadn’t wanted to be bad. He’d been trying so hard to be good. But it didn’t matter how much he wanted to be good. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

The tears came early this time, before Eduardo was even halfway through. They didn’t slow Eduardo’s hand or lighten its effect, but they washed away the restless urge for rebellion that’d been driving him for days. He’d rebelled, and he’d lost. All he could do now was take his punishment, certain that Eduardo would give him every lick of it.

Eduardo had once told him it was okay to kick and squirm, so he did, letting the futility of his struggle highlight his condition. He was Eduardo’s to discipline, a small and powerless thing, unable to make himself behave, relying on Eduardo to do it for him. And so lucky to have him. Unless he’d ruined it.

“Last ten,” Eduardo said with an edge of approval to his voice.

Jake hadn’t even been counting. His ass was a fiery red, so much hotter and more personal than when Eduardo whaled on him with one of his toys. Eduardo’s hand was no toy, and this was no noble display of a submissive’s true strength. He had no strength, had nothing but regret and shame.

“I think a little corner time is in order,” Eduardo said as he nudged Jake up to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” Jake sobbed out.

“I know. I can tell. But I could use some separation. Please go stand in the corner.”

Jake went. He went because Eduardo told him to and because those words—I could use some separation—struck fear into his heart. Eduardo would send him away now. It would all be over. The discipline and the play and the homey everyday stuff. Earl. He would lose Earl.

“Go on,” he heard Eduardo say from behind him. “You can go to him.”

Earl settled at his feet, curling around him with a low whine. At least Earl had forgiven him. Jake wished he could bend down and give him a head-rub, let him know he was glad he was there and was sorry about getting him in trouble, but he didn’t want to make Eduardo any angrier, so he kept still and quiet, his face in the corner and his hands clasped behind his back, listening for the beep of the timer that would tell him his time was up.

It was a long wait, and it wasn’t the timer that finally signaled the end of it. Eduardo’s voice, low and certain, called him over. Jake went down on his knees and crawled between Eduardo’s legs, hoping as he inhaled the familiar odor of Eduardo’s groin that it wasn’t for the last time.

“Tell me what happened there.”

“I don’t know. It just… wasn’t working for me.”

“What do you say when a scene isn’t working for you?”

“Yellow. Or red.”

“That’s right, and I think you know it. So tell me what was really going on.”

Jake hesitated. He was glad Eduardo hadn’t thrown him out yet, but if he explained how his mind worked, Eduardo would know how completely hopeless he was, and then most likely he would throw him out.

“Talk to me, big guy.”

“I needed something real tonight.”

“Real,” Eduardo repeated thoughtfully. “You acted out because you wanted punishment?”

“I guess.” It hadn’t been as intentional as all that, but that was what it boiled down to. “I can’t be good all the time.”

“I never expected you to be. You’ve been putting more and more on your plate every day. I figured you’d drop the ball at some point.”

“But then you’d be disappointed in me.”

“Ah, Jake.” Eduardo’s face softened. He put his hand on Jake’s head, rubbing the shell of his ear between his fingers, then scratching over the short hairs behind it. “I won’t be disappointed by your being human.”

“But getting to sleep here and everything we do—those are my rewards. If I mess up, I don’t get a reward.”

“Having you here is a reward for me too. Usually. Not today so much.” Eduardo frowned, and Jake felt about an inch tall. “If you miss a line on your to-do list and take your spanking like a good boy, there’s still plenty of time for us to enjoy the rest of the evening together.”

“You mean I can sleep over even if I get punished?”

“If it happens like I just said, yes. But not tonight. Tonight, you’re going home.”

“But—”

Eduardo held up a finger to stop him. He leaned down and took Jake’s face between his hands. “I won’t drop you. No matter how badly you behave, I won’t give up on you. I’ll punish you every night, all night, if that’s what it takes to keep you on track. That’s my promise to you as your disciplinarian. But a romantic relationship requires a different level of trust. You broke my trust tonight when you turned on me with your body instead of using your words. Do you understand that?”

Jake was so ashamed. Normally, he felt clean and forgiven after a spanking, but he saw how he’d broken more than a lamp tonight. “I understand.”

“Let’s go to the kitchen. We’re going to write out your to-do list while you drink some water, and then I’m sending you home. Tomorrow, we’ll rebuild. Don’t use this as an excuse to backslide, Jake. I’m counting on you to be the man I want to have around my house—not just when I’m spanking his ass, but always. And I really believe you can be.”

Oh, how Jake wanted to be that man. The prospect of it was more than he’d ever thought possible, even before he’d royally fucked things up tonight. That Eduardo still thought he had a chance…

“I’ll try, sir.” He tilted his head up to accept the kiss Eduardo gave him, a reminder that they’d been more than Dom and sub once and could be again. If only Jake had as much faith as Eduardo seemed to in his ability to do better next time. “But, sir?”

“Hm?”

“I’ll probably act like that again. I don’t want to, but…”

“Hmm.” Eduardo leaned back against the couch cushions, tightening his legs around Jake like a cage. “What do you think prompted your behavior today?”

“The interview. But also all those days without.”

“Without what you needed. I see. You were being so good for me that you didn’t earn punishment, but not ever being punished is a problem.” Eduardo tapped his chin a few times, thinking it through. “I can’t punish you for nothing. That wouldn’t be fair. But you could ask for punishment.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you need it. And when you need something, all you have to do is ask. Can we try that next time? When anxiety’s creeping up on you, we’ll punish it right out of you.”

“But if I’m asking for it…”

“Don’t worry,” Eduardo said with an indulgent smile. “It’ll be real. As real as this, but without the part where you terrify me and my dog first.”

Had Eduardo been terrified? He’d never shown it. Jake didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky to find such a good master, one with a steel backbone, an iron hand, and enough patience to deal with a brat like him. All he knew was that thanks to Eduardo and the punishment he’d doled out that night, he went into his interview calm and cooperative. He had the confidence of knowing he was well-trained and competent, backed by a serenity that made his confidence come across without any aggression.

When he got the call a few days later telling him he had the job, he and Eduardo celebrated with a fun scene that was all play-acting and pleasure-pain, no simmering rebellion at all. His life was finally turning a corner he’d lost hope of ever being able to turn. A strong daily routine, firm discipline as needed, and a whole lot of loving attention from both Eduardo and Earl made every day a happy and manageable one.

Chapter 7

Jake threw the stick for the two hundredth time. Or maybe it just felt like that. Earl and a few of his buddies went running for it. Earl was socialized enough now to play with other dogs, to pretend-fight over a stick instead of going for the jugular, and to occasionally lose without turning savage. Not that he lost very often. He trotted back with the stick and dropped it at Jake’s feet, guarding it from his playmates who wanted to snatch it up and run off with it. Earl knew the rules. The humans threw the stick. The dogs ran after it.

The stick—which was actually a rubber chew toy—was absolutely disgusting by this point. Wet from dog saliva, dirty from the mud a rare rain had left, and pitted with puncture marks, but Jake picked it up and gave it a good wing, sending it a hundred feet easy. Earl and his playmates sprinted after it as it arced.

“You save my arm a lot of soreness.” Eduardo was kicked back in a camp chair they’d brought.

“I don’t mind.”

“The exercise is good for both of you. You’ll pass out early tonight, and I’ll get to watch whatever I want on television.”

“We always watch what you want anyway,” Jake observed with a roll of his eyes.

“But tonight I won’t feel guilty about it.” Eduardo stretched his legs out in front of him. He looked sharp in a pair of dark jeans and a fresh white t-shirt. Jake hoped he’d get a little action before passing out, but it was true that a Saturday afternoon at the dog park tended to do him in.

It was all that fresh air. Now that he had an office job, he didn’t get outside much during the day. At least in the Marines, there’d always been some drill or other to get them moving. But he was glad for the job—glad to be back in the line of work he’d been trained for and glad for Eduardo who kept him sane. If he’d somehow managed to get this job before meeting Eduardo, he’d have lost it so fast no one would’ve had time to learn his name. They’d have remembered him forever as “the big, scary guy who flipped out in the caf that day.”

“Your turn, old man.” He went over and kicked Eduardo’s foot—lightly—and Eduardo heaved himself up with a mock sigh and took over the job of throwing the stick. Eduardo wore a glove to do it, not as willing to subject himself to saliva and mud as Jake was. It wasn’t the same glove he wore to spank Jake’s ass, but Jake couldn’t help making the association.

They often did short sessions now that he knew it was okay to mess up. He kept making his to-do lists more ambitious—adding stretch goals, as Eduardo called them—knowing that he didn’t have to tick off every single thing. He was starting to see that his biggest problem was fear of failure, a sort of presumptive giving up. Why even try if he was doomed to fail? But he didn’t have to beat himself up for not being perfect anymore.

“That’s my job,” Eduardo would say if he caught Jake at it. Then Eduardo would add an extra ten strokes for “damaging my property,” which Jake figured was fair. He’d done a lot of damage to himself in the past—destroying relationships, bringing consequences down on his head, sinking deeper and deeper into a place of self-loathing.

Now if there was something left on his to-do list at the end of the day, or something he’d fucked up a little, he turned it over to Eduardo. Eduardo turned him over his knee, and a few brisk minutes later, Jake would be forgiven. The spankings were a good stress reliever, a good conscience reliever, and just a general relief—to know that someone else was responsible for keeping him on track.

After a discipline session, they might spend the rest of the night as equals or they might scene. Eduardo had an impressive array of costumes and characters to have fun with. Jake particularly liked the Marine Sergeant—liked getting to tell Eduardo everything he’d never been able to tell his real superiors, being careful to make sure that both Eduardo and Earl knew it was only in play, of course.

He hadn’t acted out in a bad way since that horrible night a few months ago. Between frequent spankings and the occasional scene, his internal pressure valve had been running at a manageable level. His boss liked him, his co-workers liked him, and Eduardo maybe more-than liked him. Life was good.

“What are you so deep in thought about?” Eduardo asked.

“You.”

“Oh? Big plans for tonight?”

“Not like that.” He wasn’t up for a scene tonight. “But maybe something.” He gave Eduardo a lascivious look, and Eduardo laughed in response.

“All right, big guy. We’ll see if you can stay awake for it. Earl’s tuckered out, too. Time to get both my boys home.”

Back at home—well, it was Eduardo’s home, but Jake sure spent a lot of time there—Eduardo pampered him with food. Since there was no need for discipline and Jake wasn’t in the mood for a scene, they opened a bottle of wine with dinner. They ate out on the patio, Earl at their feet as tuckered out as Eduardo had predicted he’d be.

Autumn was winding down. Soon they wouldn’t be able to eat outside like this. But it was perfect tonight—the sky deepening to a rich purple, fireflies going off like fireworks in the darker corners of the yard, the neighborhood quiet behind Eduardo’s privacy fencing which was flocked by the ornamental bushes he tended to as carefully as he tended to Jake.

“What kind of dessert are you thinking of?” Eduardo asked as he rose to clear their plates. Despite his languor, Jake popped up to help. Eduardo had already done all the cooking, and Jake’s only excuse for being tired was that it’d been a nice day.

“Maybe fuck me?”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“It doesn’t have to be rough.”

Eduardo chuckled. “We’ll see about that. Go ahead and get ready. I’ll finish things in here and get Earl settled.”

It was an unspoken rule that they didn’t fuck in front of Earl, even when there wasn’t anything rough going on. They jerked each other off in front of Earl and blew each other in front of Earl, so Jake wasn’t sure what the difference was, but yeah. Fucking was private times.

He went into Eduardo’s room and used the en suite to shower and get thoroughly clean. When he came back out, he found Eduardo waiting for him on the bed, already undressed. Jake took a minute to appreciate seeing him this way, all stretched out and naked. The springy grey hair on his chest always gave him a thrill. It wasn’t a Daddy thing. Or hell, maybe it was a Daddy thing. All he knew was that Eduardo was definitely a Daddy he was down to fuck.

Eduardo wasn’t hard yet, but Jake was about halfway there himself, unable to resist the temptation of some quick touches in the shower. He loved Eduardo’s cock, soft or hard, but he especially loved getting it hard.

“For me?” he asked, crawling up the bed between Eduardo’s legs to nuzzle into the scent that meant security and sex.

“It’s definitely not for anyone else.”

They’d made that agreement a month ago. Eduardo had asked Jake if he was seeing anyone in a non-Dom capacity, and Jake had admitted that he’d never seen anyone in a non-Dom capacity, not outside of one or two-night meaningless encounters, which he had no need for now. Then they’d agreed to make it exclusive—both for play and for real—and since neither of them had been with anyone else since the night they met, they exchanged test results and stopped using condoms, which was a level of trust Jake had never expected anyone to have in him. It really meant something.

For one thing, it meant he didn’t need to cover up this gorgeous cock before he got it in him. He stopped snuffling at it and started licking it, then moved on to sucking it. The mood was unhurried, a continuation of the day at the park and the evening on the patio. Eduardo didn’t rush him, content to let Jake bring him up to full arousal slowly, but his cock was good and hard now. It was ready for Jake, and Jake was ready for it.

He rolled over onto his back, telling Eduardo without words how he wanted it, and Eduardo got onto his knees and opened Jake as slowly as Jake had hardened him.

“Maybe you really do want it soft tonight,” he observed.

“You think I can’t want it soft?”

“I think you’re going to change your mind. But I like this. It’s like a cuddle fuck.” Eduardo slid his fingers out of Jake’s ass and lined his cock up with it. “Slow, then.”

He pushed just the head inside. He’d prepped Jake so thoroughly that it didn’t hurt at all, not even a quick burn, and Jake was ready for more instantly. But of course Eduardo had to be difficult about it and press in slow, slow, slow, waiting for Jake to complain. He liked it though—not something he was used to, but good. The slow slide meant he felt every inch of Eduardo’s cock and the way his body expanded to take it in.

It was a different kind of owning than the rough, commanding fuck Eduardo usually gave him, but Eduardo was a master at this tempo too, drawing back and working in again in long, controlled slides. Positioned face to face the way they were, they could see right into each other’s eyes. Jake had been fucked face-up before, but he’d never looked. Not there. Not straight into another man’s eyes as the man’s cock worked inside him.

The things he saw on Eduardo’s face made his heart swell. Caring. Hunger. Tenderness. Passion. What had been pleasantly sensual became richly erotic. He was giving himself to Eduardo—all of him, wholly. No fight or pretense or play, just complete abandon. He’d never felt this before, and he knew with a shocking clarity that he’d never had the emotional maturity to feel it before.

He pulled Eduardo’s face down into a kiss that was like water after a ten mile hike—pure renewal. They moved harder, faster, breaking apart so they could breathe. Eduardo came first for a change. He was always so controlled, so perfect, but he devolved into an undignified rut as his orgasm washed over him, the intensity on his face tipping Jake over the edge to join him. He hadn’t even touched himself. The friction of their bodies and the sight of the man above him was enough to get him there.

Eduardo collapsed on top of him, giving Jake a rare opportunity to be the one doing the holding. He wrapped tired arms around his lover’s body and snuggled his face into his neck.

“Good thing I didn’t want it fast,” he teased. “I’d have killed you.”

“Shut up,” Eduardo retorted, but his voice held nothing but humor and satisfaction.

“Yes, Lalo.”

Eduardo rolled off to the side and propped himself up on an elbow to gaze down at him. “I thought you’d forgotten what I told you about my nickname being Lalo.”

“Not forgotten.” He’d never forgotten for a minute. “Just wasn’t sure I had the right to call you that.”

“If you don’t have the right, I don’t know who does. I like hearing it from you.” He leaned in for a kiss. “I’m very glad to have you here, very glad we’ve come to mean so much to each other. I love you, Jake.”

“I love you too,” he murmured, trying not to wet Eduardo’s chest with his tears. It was so unexpected, that he got to have this. Got to have Eduardo and Sir, and now Lalo, too. An almost-dog and an almost-home. A job. “I don’t know why you’d want me though.” Even back in the very beginning, he hadn’t understood why Eduardo would want to take on a sub as difficult as he was.

“Because my pieces fit your holes, I suppose. I’m a bossy person. I like being in charge.”

Jake snorted, because that was an understatement if he’d ever heard one. “You are the boss, though.”

Eduardo was a named partner in a big law firm—about as important as a person could be.

“I’m the boss, but I don’t get to be bossy. I have to be diplomatic, pretend to care about my employees’ opinions.” Eduardo wiggled his eyebrows to show he was joking, but Jake understood that he was also not joking. “I can’t just dictate, and I definitely don’t get to punish. I have some associates who could use a good over-the-knee spanking from time to time, believe me.”

“So you come home and whale on me instead?”

“Sort of, yes. That’s why I don’t mind if you need a little correction here and there. Not that I would ever expect you to be perfect, but I get something out of it when you’re not.”

“I wonder if I’ll ever be a boss.” He was a long way from it now, at the very bottom of the corporate ladder, which meant he got shit on sometimes. His manager wasn’t bad, but the customers could be awful, and he was supposed to treat them with respect even when they didn’t deserve it.

“Do you want to be a boss?”

“I don’t know. Definitely not of you.” He wasn’t even that great at being boss of himself. “So is that why you adopted Earl? Because he was a discipline case?”

“They were going to put him down. He’d been housed with a couple of foster families who returned him for being too aggressive. I didn’t go to the shelter to find a difficult dog on purpose, but I couldn’t stand the thought of such a beautiful animal being put to sleep because his previous owners failed him.”

“It’s awful,” Jake agreed. It made his heart ache to think Earl had almost died.

“I figured what worked on a sub might work on a dog. Not the spankings or the sex, but the steady discipline, clear rewards and punishments and being even-handed in how I administer them.”

“And loving in how you administer them.” Jake had felt the love in Eduardo’s severity right from the beginning, had always known the discipline was for his benefit. He bet Earl had too.

“Speaking of Earl…” Eduardo went out to the living room but came back alone. “Totally conked out,” he said.

Jake missed Earl as they fell asleep, but by morning he was there—the three of them splayed across the bed, as always, taking up every inch of it, almost like a family.

Chapter 8

Jake didn’t have much in the way of friends, and he definitely didn’t have any friends in the scene. There were Doms he’d pissed off and subs he secretly hated because they did everything better than him, but not friends. What did he need scene friends for anyway? He was happy spending his evenings with Eduardo and Earl in their cozy bungalow where he understood what was expected of him and seemed to be able to do it. But Eduardo thought he needed friends, so they were going to a club. It was embarrassing enough having to be “socialized,” but then Eduardo made him wear his leather shorts, and that was worse.

“I love these.” Eduardo said, giving him the once-over before they left his house.

“I feel ridiculous in them.”

“I know. That’s part of what I love about them.” Eduardo trailed a hand over his ass in a manner that was possessive but not punishing. “I remember how you looked on that barstool, all flustered and hungry and huge, dressed like a sub but ready to kill. It was eye-catching.”

“I didn’t realize you’d noticed me.”

“Of course I did. I’d planned to come over as soon as I finished with my friend. That’s who we’re meeting tonight, by the way—Dale. So he’s already seen you in these.”

Great. Jake wanted to sulk at being dressed up like a bauble to show off, but he was too pleased that Eduardo thought he was worthy of being shown off.

Dale was Eduardo’s age, not nearly as handsome with it, and a little too sure he was right about, well, everything. His sub was older too, but small-framed and kind of campy, which made him come across as younger. Sammy was dressed pretty similarly to Jake except with a chest harness and a leather cap that struck Jake as silly, but he smiled a lot and neither of them watched Jake like he was a poisonous snake, which was how he was accustomed to being treated at clubs.

They were in the public bar area where he’d met Eduardo that first night, but the place was a lot more crowded tonight, with so many guys in leather shorts he didn’t even stand out and a DJ playing music way too loud. Having a conversation was difficult, and the two Doms were talking about boring legal stuff anyway. Sammy got fidgety, and Dale told the two of them to run along and amuse themselves. Eduardo agreed, making a shooing motion that meant Jake had to hang out with this twinkie in a leather cap.

“Dance?” Sammy suggested, and Jake figured why not, but as soon as they were on the dance floor, Sammy was all over him, rubbing their chests together and grinding up against him. Sammy’s head topped out at about Jake’s shoulders, which meant Jake kept inadvertently knocking his hat off. He had a big bald spot, so now Jake understood why the hat was there, and every time he bent over to pick it up, he tried to push his ass back into Jake’s groin, except that his ass didn’t actually reach that high.

“I don’t want to get in trouble,” Jake shouted as he peeled Sammy off him one more time.

“I like getting in trouble,” Sammy shouted back. “It’s part of my schtick.”

“I don’t think Eduardo wants me acting out on purpose,” Jake tried to say, but it was too much to shout, and even after three tries, Sammy still didn’t get it. He pulled Jake off the dance floor, dragging him down to the far end of the bar where it was thankfully much quieter. Jake was about to order a beer, but Eduardo caught his eye and wagged his finger back and forth, so he changed it to a club soda.

“All right,” Sammy said when they’d gotten their drinks and had found a booth to tuck themselves into. “Say that again.”

“I said Eduardo doesn’t wants me acting out. I’m not going to piss him off on purpose.”

“I thought you were the biggest discipline problem in the joint.”

“Not on purpose.” Jake frowned at his drink. How was he supposed to make friends when everybody had already heard of him? “And not anymore.”

“So Eduardo never punishes you? What fun is that?”

“He punishes me, but it’s not fun. Is it fun when Dale punishes you?”

“Sure.” Sammy sucked on the tiny stirrer that came with his drink, pursing his lips and looking up at Jake through his eyelashes. “That’s the game. I act like a brat, Dale gives my ass a whooping, and then I get some good dick.”

“Punishment isn’t a game, and it shouldn’t be about sex.”

“Honey, if it’s not a game and it’s not sex, then it’s just someone beating on you. Tell me Eduardo respects your safeword at least.”

“I…” He didn’t have a safeword, not for punishment, but he had a feeling he shouldn’t tell Sammy that. He’d already said too much, though, because Sammy had his head cocked to the side, his cap leaning so rakishly in the other direction he was about to lose it again.

“Look,” Jake said, even as he wondered why he was bothering to explain something to Sammy he only vaguely understand himself. “Punishment is punishment. I don’t want it to stop just because I say some word.”

“Oooh.” Sammy opened his mouth wide around the syllable.

“But that’s okay because if I really needed it to stop I could always just, like, stand up.” Which he had done. Not lately, but he knew he could. “You don’t have to worry about me. When I fight, I win.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Sammy said with a flirtatious wink. “Hey, as along as everyone’s on the same page, I don’t care what floats your boat. And if you don’t want to get in trouble, I won’t get you in trouble.”

“Thanks.” That’d been surprisingly easy.

“Shame, though. I figured I’d have some fun with you, then have some fun with Dale. But we’ll just be buds.” Sammy held his fist out, completely baffling Jake until he realized he was meant to give it a bump.

It was hard to feel like a dude-bro wearing leather shorts sitting across from a guy in a chest harness, but he appreciated the attempt. And he did want to be good. Eduardo had brought him there with a purpose, which wasn’t for Jake to do the bump and grind with his friend’s sub.

They went back out onto the floor, and this time Sammy kept it pretty PG. They danced through a few songs before Eduardo tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, willing to bump and grind with Eduardo all night long, but that wasn’t what he wanted.

“I was thinking of doing a scene,” he said when he’d got Jake away from the dance floor. “But only if you can be good for me.”

When was the last time he hadn’t been good? He frowned at what seemed like an unfair rebuke.

“Sorry.” Eduardo came up on his toes to give him a kiss. “I didn’t mean it that way. I want to put on a show, something completely different from our usual style of play. Can you be a princess for me? Teacher’s pet, the perfect little sub? If it’ll be too much, we won’t do it.”

Jake considered. The reason he liked role playing was because he got to push back without really doing anything wrong. Playing the perfect sub would be a whole different thing. But he loved Eduardo, and if this was what Eduardo wanted from him, he’d do it.

Jake noticed a few raised eyebrows as Eduardo led him into the center of the public play area. Jake never played publicly. It was bad enough one person finding out what a shitty sub he was. No need to make a public point of it, though of course everyone already knew. His reputation proceeded him.

Eduardo pitched his voice low enough that Jake knew it was meant just for him. “Please tell me if you’re yellow. Understand?”

He understood. If the brat inside him got too loud, he could say yellow and Eduardo would get him out of there. Eduardo wouldn’t let him fail.

“Understand?” Eduardo repeated, a hard edge to his voice that meant Jake had already fucked something up.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” Eduardo raised his voice to a volume the gathering crowd would be able to hear. “Now, what should I do with you today, Jake?”

“Anything you like, sir.”

“Mm.” Eduardo ran his hands over Jake’s chest, stopping to tweak each nipple into hardness with quick, painful plucks. “I love how responsive your nipples are. Look at them, like pretty pink eraser heads.”

Jake took a quick glance down. They were just nipples. “If it pleases you, sir.” That was what imaginary Earl would’ve said, that perfect sub Jake had once dreamed up for Eduardo.

“It does please me. I like showing you off. All these people are watching you, Jake. They’re here to see what a good boy you are. Are you going to make me proud?”

“I hope so, sir.” Being humble wasn’t Jake’s favorite thing. It was too close to how he often felt, which was humiliated. But he did hope to make Eduardo proud, so he forced the words out.

“On your knees, Jake.” Eduardo said it softly, almost like it wasn’t an order, demonstrating how little command he needed to exert, and Jake obeyed, lowering himself smoothly to his knees and folding his hands behind his back, his neck bent in a standard submissive posture. Eduardo moved behind him, and then his hands closed lightly around his neck.

“How are you feeling?”

“Green, sir.” He wasn’t too itchy, not yet. Eduardo was telling him to do things, and he was doing them. Simple commands, easy to obey. It reminded him of the night they met, of the time he’d spent on his knees then, how he’d found peace there. He checked his posture, making it perfect. If there was one thing being a Marine had taught him, it was how to maintain a rigid posture.

“I’m going to blindfold you now, Jake. How do you feel about that?”

“Green, sir.” Actually kind of yellow, but he swallowed it down, not wanting to fail Eduardo so early in their scene.

He knew people were watching. He couldn’t see them, because his eyes were respectfully lowered, but with a blindfold he wouldn’t even have the option of seeing them. They might be sneering at him or coming at him with a knife, and he’d never know. He’d have to trust Eduardo to keep him safe, to show him off in the best possible light. Realizing that he’d clenched his hands, he relaxed them again, letting one fall easily into the other in that ritual display of complete submission.

“Good boy,” Eduardo said into his ear. “You please me so much.”

Eduardo’s praise softened the ball of nerves growing in his gut, made him a little dizzy with anticipation. He mentally followed Eduardo’s footsteps, wondering what he intended to do. At home, they played pretty hard. He liked it hard, could take it. But could he take it here, like this, without resistance, not even the pretend kind?

The silky material of a blindfold draped over his eyes—a swath of cloth thick enough that he couldn’t make out anything except a sense of light and shadow. He closed his eyes, accepting the darkness Eduardo had dropped him into. Trust. He didn’t know what was about to happen, but he trusted.

“Can you guess what this is?” Something trailed up his back as Eduardo’s voice tickled in his ear. Leather, supple, a small surface area. Jake was good at this game.

“A crop, sir?”

“Very good. I’m going to give you ten strokes, and I want you to count them for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.” He could do that. Probably. The first blow hit him unexpectedly, a swipe to his right shoulder. He jumped, flinching from the surprise, not the pain, and almost forgot what he’d just promised to do. “One, sir.”

“One, sir, what?” Eduardo’s smooth velvet voice came in from his left side.

“One, sir. Thank you, sir.” Fuck. How could he have forgotten that? Suck-up subs always said thank you. The crop whistled again, and he was better prepared for it this time. “Two, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Eduardo made him wait so long in between. The whole ritual of it. It was another man’s game, one Jake had always failed at. Three. He wasn’t even bound. Nothing at all preventing him from standing up and putting an end to it. The only thing keeping him on his knees was obedience. Four.

He wasn’t hard either. The strokes weren’t fast enough or hard enough to hurt, not the way he wanted them to. He wished Eduardo would go harder, but a good sub didn’t ask. Five. He was just supposed to take what he got.

“How are you doing there, Jake?”

He hesitated, on the verge of calling yellow, not sure he could hold it together long enough to eke out five more but wanting to so badly.

“I’m green, sir.”

“There’s my good boy.” Eduardo dropped a kiss against the back of his neck, bringing his familiar scent with it.

Jake shivered. He was a good boy. He was being good. He was doing well. Eduardo had said so. He could trust his master who would never put him in a position to fail. Eduardo had always known what he was capable of, had always set him up for success from the very first night.

Six. Seven. There was a burn now—Eduardo plying the crop harder, striking skin that was already sensitive. Eight. Nine. The rhythm of it was nice, settling. Counting. Saying thank you. It drew him into a place where being well-behaved felt like a pleasure.

“Ten, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you.” Eduardo’s hand stroked welcome fire across his shoulders. “What would you like as a reward?”

“Your cock, sir?”

“Mm, my sweet little cocksucker.” Eduardo came around in front of him. The blindfold was still in place, but Jake could smell the richness of his groin. He waited patiently, trying not to shift or seek, as the whisper of fabric rustling told him Eduardo was taking himself out.

“Open up, big boy.”

He opened his mouth, making himself into a vessel designed to receive. The weight of Eduardo’s cock settled on his tongue. Eduardo wasn’t hard, but neither was Jake—too many people, such a calm and unheated scene—but Jake worked him over with his mouth, careful to keep his hands behind his back, and they both grew harder. His own cock swelled uncomfortably in the tight confines of his leather shorts, and Eduardo’s grew thick in his mouth until it was steely-hard. The sweet tang of pre-come tickled Jake’s taste buds.

“Such a good cocksucker,” Eduardo moaned. “So good for me.”

Jake redoubled his efforts, sucking harder, moving faster, wishing for his hands but not shifting them in the slightest, the darkness behind the blindfold sinking him deeper into a place where it was only the two of them, whether the others still watched or not. He gave himself wholly to Eduardo, and Eduardo gave himself back, squirting down his throat with a hearty moan, one hand tangled in Jake’s hair for balance.

“Give me a moment,” Eduardo mumbled.

“I’m all yours, sir.” And it felt less like a lie than anything in the scene so far. He was all Eduardo’s. He didn’t mind being down on his knees to him, here or anywhere.

Eduardo straightened up, the scratch of a zipper telling Jake he’d tucked himself away again. Then he pulled the blindfold from Jake’s eyes and helped him to his feet and over to a couch at the side of the play area.

“I don’t need aftercare for that.” He snuggled into Eduardo’s side nonetheless.

“I’ll decide what you need.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, only a little cheekily. Eduardo gave him a tap on the ass for it.

“That was a lot for you to handle tonight. Not the crop—I know you can take much more—but the obedience. Your submission tonight was a gift, and I thank you for it.” He wrapped Jake up tight, making him feel cared for and loved and protected and cherished. He’d done good tonight. But was this what Eduardo wanted from him all the time? And if it was, could Jake give it to him?

Chapter 9

“You could’ve handled this better, Jake.”

“I know.” He sat right on the edge of the guest chair in his boss’s office, wishing she would just fire him if she was going to fire him.

“Kandler might be a pain in the ass, but he’s our client. Which means he pays your salary, which means the tone you took in this email can’t be tolerated, no matter how much he deserved it.”

“I know.” He knew. Fuck, he knew. But the anxiety caused by this particular asshat had been scrambling in his brain like a cage of squirrels for days. It’d been inevitable that he would eventually blow. Shannon was lucky he’d only used a tone in the email, not the curses and insults he’d really wanted to.

“I’m going to offer them a discount on next month’s billing,” she said with a displeased scowl, “but the apology needs to come directly from you. Write something up for me. And, Jake? Make it good. Own up to what you did, acknowledge it was wrong, promise to do better. Have it on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Um, Shannon?” The brat in him had no interest in apologizing to Kandler. It wanted to tell Kandler to go fuck himself, right after telling Shannon to go fuck herself. “I’m kind of wound up right now. Maybe it would be better if I did it in the morning, after I’ve had time to cool off?”

“All right. Not a bad idea. Stay off email for the rest of the day, and have your apology in my inbox first thing tomorrow.” She swiveled around to face her computer, dismissing him so easily it burned, until he reminded himself that his issue was probably only one of a dozen shitshows she had to deal with today. He used to think he was the only person who ever fucked up, that he was the worst loser ever, but he knew better now. Shannon was usually really happy with his work, and everyone fucked up sometimes.

He avoided his co-workers for the rest of the day and didn’t make any stops on the way home. He showered and changed at top speed, then picked up some fast food on the way to Eduardo’s because fuck it. He needed to get there before he snapped completely.

Eduardo must’ve only just come home, because he was still in dress slacks and a button-up shirt when he answered the door. Jake pushed past him, undressing as soon as he got inside without even bothering to give Earl a hello head-scruff.

“Something you’ve done?” Eduardo asked.

“It’s more what I could do.”

“All right.” Eduardo snapped his fingers at the floor, and Jake dropped to his knees. He followed Eduardo into the living room on all fours. They hadn’t done this in quite a while, but he liked the ritual of it, liked nosing into Eduardo’s groin to tell him what’d happened with Kandler.

“So that would be ten for talking back,” Eduardo said when Jake had finished.

Jake shook his head.

“No?”

“It’s not enough. I need punishment. Real punishment. I can’t—” He thumped his chest where the anxiety lay like a hard lump, taking up so much room he couldn’t breathe around it.

“Tell me how many, then. But Jake, I warn you: I’m going to give you what you ask for.”

Jake cocked his head. How much was too much? He didn’t know. He only knew that his rage was strong and he couldn’t afford to take it out on his boss or his clients or on Eduardo either. He could only take it out on himself.

“A hundred.” He’d never started with a number that high, but he’d never been so jammed up and desperate to get unjammed either.

“A hundred then,” Eduardo said, not showing any surprise at the number. He merely tapped his lap with his gloved hand and gave Jake an encouraging smile. “This is going to take a while, so let’s get started.”

And of course, Jake didn’t want to. He wanted Eduardo to make him, even though he knew Eduardo wouldn’t make him, not physically. Eduardo would just keep adding to the number, and shit—

He’d already let himself in for a hundred. He couldn’t afford to be rebellious, so he got to his feet, shaky from the adrenaline pooling up inside him, and laid himself over Eduardo’s lap, making his ass a target. The first ten were at warm-up strength. Sometimes, when he was only owed ten, Eduardo gave them harder. No point warming him up when it would all be over in a minute. But today he got a warm-up, followed by the next ten at full strength.

And they were full strength. If he’d thought Eduardo would go easy on him because he’d asked for punishment himself, well, that wasn’t what happened. Eduardo delivered with his normal intensity—the solid, rhythmic smack of his gloved hand striking over and over in a pattern Jake had come to know very well, one that left every inch of his ass and upper thighs evenly hot, evenly sensitive.

With seventy remaining, Jake felt sure he could take them, was wondering if seventy would be enough. The rage in his heart hadn’t died down even though the fire in his ass was burning bright. Another twenty, and his attitude started to change. The smacks hurt. Really hurt. What had he gotten himself into? He was always like this—all fuck-you about the consequences until he was living the consequences. A hundred? Really? He’d thought he was so tough, but he was a long way from tough. The tears started falling somewhere around sixty. Hardly halfway there, and he wasn’t going to make it.

“I’ve had enough,” he said gruffly, sweeping an arm back in an attempt to intercede.

“Then don’t make me add more.” Eduardo pinned his arm by his side with his other hand and kept swinging.

“I said stop.” Jake kicked his legs, drumming his feet against the cushions.

“Still forty to go.” Eduardo said as he began the next set. “You know you’re not getting any less than the hundred I promised you.”

“I changed my mind.”

“I’d better start getting some sirs or the number’s going up.”

“I changed my mind, sir.” He reached back to still Eduardo’s hand, and Eduardo let him.

Jake felt a flash of physical relief followed immediately by a crashing disappointment. He’d thought he could count on Eduardo, but Eduardo was like every other Dom. He backed down when pushed, got intimidated by the fight, couldn’t follow through, couldn’t make it real, couldn’t give him what he really needed, which was to be thoroughly and ruthlessly punished until all the brat was gone from him.

“I was being patient because you asked for this yourself,” Eduardo said, “but I should’ve known better. A brat doesn’t behave better when he gets leniency. He behaves worse. So ten for talking back and ten for making me add strokes when I specifically told you not to.”

“Nooooo,” Jake howled.

“Try me,” Eduardo said, not a hint of patience in his voice now. He flicked his wrist out of Jake’s grasp and started hitting him again.

Jake tried to remember what number they’d been on, how many had been added, what was left, but the math got swept away in a flood of pain and the complete and utter abandon with which he turned himself over to his master. He stopped fighting Eduardo, stopped fighting the tears. Eduardo had him. Eduardo wouldn’t let him get away with anything less than what he deserved. He’d be punished until he was clean again.

“Almost done, big guy.” Eduardo’s hands stroked him soothingly, petting him from shoulder to hip. “You’re being so good for me now. I’m so proud of you. Little more, okay, baby?”

Jake nodded into his crossed arms, too choked with tears to answer in words. But then— “Yes, sir.”

“That’s it. Here we go. I’m going to give you all twenty at once, and then we’ll be done.”

Eduardo didn’t skimp—adding one more layer of pain, stripping one more layer of tension—until Jake’s mind was as empty as his ass was red. Even the last smack landed with a resounding sharpness, at exactly the intended angle.

“Such a sweet thing,” Eduardo murmured when he’d finished, his voice full of a tenderness that was at odds with the severity of the punishment he’d just delivered. But Jake knew. He knew it was love he’d been given—caring attention and a steely determination to do what was best for him.

He was too emotional to get up right then, so Eduardo let him stay where he was, petting him and cooing to him until the tears stopped falling. Then he sat up, wincing as his ass made contact with the cushion beneath him, and Eduardo got him cuddled into a blanket.

“I’m sorry.”

“No apologies. You don’t need to be remorseful today. I’m proud of you for asking for what you needed, and I’m proud of you for taking it. I’m so grateful I found you, Jake. Grateful every day.”

But that was silly, because it was Jake who ought to be grateful. Eduardo would be a magnificent Dom for any sub, but Jake was a terrible sub for anyone except Eduardo. Maybe even for Eduardo too. He hadn’t forgotten that night in the club, when Eduardo had thanked him for being good, how he’d wondered if Eduardo would prefer a sub who could behave like that all the time.

“Do you wish I could do better?”

“Better how?” A confused frown marred Eduardo’s handsome face.

“Like I was that night in the club.”

“That was just for show,” Eduardo said with a definitive shake of his head. “I wanted all those other Doms—all the ones who told me I was making a mistake taking you on—to see that the problem was them, not you. I don’t want you to change, Jake. I like giving you what you need. I’d hate for you to not need me.”

“I need you.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you go lie down on the bed? I’ll get the lotion.”

“I don’t have to go home?” He slept at Eduardo’s pretty much every night, but the last time he’d gotten serious punishment, Eduardo had made him go home after.

“Definitely not. In fact, I never want you to go home. I’d like for you to move in, if that’s something you think you’d want to do.”

Jake nodded, a little too close to tears for words.

“Then it’s a deal.”

Jake went into the bedroom on teetery legs and waited until Eduardo came in with the lotion and a glass of water. Eduardo helped him sit up enough to swallow the water, then stretched him out on his stomach and worked the cream into his skin, his fingers gentle and comforting. When Jake was loose and easy, Eduardo stripped off the remains of the suit he was still wearing and lay down next to him, plying him with tender kisses that ratcheted up in intensity. Jake’s hand found Eduardo’s dick, and Eduardo’s found his, and they pushed up against each other, grinding and grabbing.

“Probably not a good night to fuck you,” Eduardo groaned, “but fuck.”

“This works.” Jake opened his hand to surround them both.

“Mm, I’m appreciating how big your hands are right now.”

“I appreciate how big your cock is all the time,” he answered with a snicker. He squeezed tighter, moving his hand faster until any thoughts of joking fled and they came in synchronized spurts.

“Love you, Lalo.”

“Love you too, big guy. Here’s to many more nights like this one.” A last sweet kiss sealed the deal. Jake was moving in with the only man who’d ever figured out how to love him.

He rolled onto his back, thoroughly spent, and winced when pain flared up from his punished ass. Worth it, though. His head was cool and clear, no rage at all. Tomorrow he would write an apologetic email, which he would hate doing just enough to remind him to seek out Eduardo’s corrective hand before telling off a customer next time. And that would be it. It wasn’t the end the world. Just normal life, really.

He was mostly asleep before a low whine reminded him they’d forgotten someone.

“Earl.” He nudged Eduardo who’d also been mostly asleep.

“You were supposed to stay,” Eduardo said severely when he opened the door to find Earl on the other side of it, but of course he let Earl in anyway. Earl leapt onto the bed, staking out a spot right in the middle where he liked it best.

“Not tonight,” Eduardo corrected him. “Tonight I want to feel my guy next to me.” He patted the foot of the bed, and Earl slunk down there with reproachful eyes. Because sometimes there was still a little brat left in Earl too.

~~The End~~

Thank You!

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Aftermath

Once upon a time, Casey flirted with a pretty boy at a bar, and that changed everything. Recently released from jail, he’s starting to rebuild without the family who raised him to hate himself. He’s got a new job, a room at his aunt’s, and community service hours at an LGBTQIA community center. But his biggest challenge is figuring out how to live as the one thing his father and brother drilled into him he could never be: a gay man.

Once upon a time, Brooks was a confident Dom with a particular taste for bigger men. But since his run-in with a dangerous homophobe, he’s lost his touch. Big, buff guys are hot but scary, and hurting people isn’t as much fun as it used to be.

Until he meets Casey, the big guy with the problematic past. Casey’s willing to do anything, but does his submission stem from healthy kink or from an unhealthy need to be punished? And is Brooks doling out release or revenge? Two people who share a past as violent as theirs could never fall in love. Unless, somewhere in the aftermath, there’s forgiveness.

Content warning: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, and references to homophobic hate crimes that have occurred in the past

Owned

Liam should never have sassed his best friend Kurt’s father that way, not when he knows how discipline is handled in the Santino household. Now Liam’s got two problems: Mr. Santino’s belt and Kurt’s bare hand. Or rather, he’s got one problem: the fact that all this old-fashioned discipline is making him hornier than hell.

Kurt’s determined to make Liam stop perving on his dad. Liam just needs one more punishment. Can the two college students work out an arrangement that satisfies all their desires?

This short story (approximately 15,000 words) features lots of spankings with various implements and a HEA ending.

Pledged

Pledging a fraternity is always a little nerve-wracking, but Blake’s racing pulse comes from more than a fear of rejection. He’s got one eye on Vadim, Delta Iota Kappa’s muscle-bound Chief Punishment Officer, and the other on that paddle. Pledging D.I.K. is going to be a whole lot more challenging, and exciting, than he ever anticipated.

Vadim’s been waiting three years for a little brother all his own, for someone to torment and humiliate, to initiate into all the pleasure, and all the pain, of belonging to their intimate fraternity for two.

This novella (approximately 20,000 words) features lots of spanking, a little humiliation, and a happy ending.

Deep Under

It was a routine traffic stop until the submissive in Jack recognized the Dominant in Maddox. Now Maddox and Jack are walking a dangerous line: on opposite sides of the law by day, on the same side of the bed at night. Can Maddox trust a man with Jack’s past, and does Jack even want him to? One thing’s for sure: Jack needs to be punished, and Maddox is just the man to do it.