vague, obligatory “yes, Sir” he’d given Daddy moments
ago. He meant this one with everything in him.
The crowd parted to let them through. Scott steered
Aiden by the hair, stopping at the coat check to put on a
long jacket. It physically hurt Aiden to see the leather
straps of Scott’s harness disappear under the coat.
Outside of the club, the night air was cool and
soothed some of the heat from Aiden’s cheeks and groin.
Scott eased his grip on Aiden’s hair, probably afraid
some vanilla would see them and call the cops. He
guided Aiden across the street to the parking lot with a
hand on Aiden’s neck. Aiden half wanted to stop
walking and just lean into that touch.
“I don’t know what I want to do to you first,” Scott
remarked casually. “Fuck you or beat you.” He hit a
button on his key chain and his car blinked to life. Scott
opened the passenger door and shoved Aiden inside.
“You’ve got a great ass. I remember that. I can’t wait to
turn it red.”
Aiden’s breath caught. Black and blue was more
like it, if their last session was anything to go by. Scott
was rough, rougher than any top Aiden had ever played
with. But that was part of Scott’s allure. The rush of fear
the man inspired went straight to Aiden’s groin.
They drove for a few minutes in silence. Aiden
noted how empty the streets were, how agonizing it was
to wait at red lights when there was no one else at the
intersection.
Red
lights. Everything was red. Scott’s car,
the industrial haze of the night sky, Aiden’s cheeks as he
thought about what lay in store…
Scott said, “I suppose I could tie you up, arms
above your head, and make you drink a fuck ton of
water. Then you’d have to hold your piss while I fucked
you raw.”
Aiden gulped. He already had to go—bad. And if
Scott made him drink water…
“What do you think, boy?” Scott demanded.
“Um, I—whatever would please you, Sir.”
“You don’t have an opinion on holding your piss
while I fuck you?”
“I, um—no, Sir.” What was up with all the um-ing?
Pull it together, Cole.
“If you went in your pants, know what I’d do? I’d
make you take those pants off and put them over your
head, so you couldn’t breathe anything but your own
filth. Then I’d bend you over the bed and take my belt to
your wet little ass until you squealed.”
God. Foul as the image was, it brought his cock
shooting up, making him even more painfully aware of
his full bladder.
“What do you think of that? I’d probably whack
your little dick a couple of times too.”
Aiden couldn’t help himself. He moaned, running a
hand over the front of his pants.
Scott glanced at him. “Touch yourself, slut. Go on.
I’m watching.”
When Aiden hesitated, Scott reached over and
placed a hand on his thigh. Aiden let out a shuddering
breath as the warm weight of Scott’s hand traveled
slowly up, finally passing over the bulge in the front of
his jeans. Scott’s fingers played with the bulge, wiggling
it like a loose tooth. Aiden tipped his head back, arched
his back, and jutted his pelvis forward to give Scott
easier access.
Suddenly Scott smacked the inside of Aiden’s thigh
with the back of his hand. Aiden yelped and started to
clamp his legs shut, but Scott grabbed his knee and
thrust it to the side, forcing his legs open again.
The car swerved, and Scott straightened it out again
one-handed. He whacked the inside of Aiden’s other
thigh. “I
said
touch yourself.” Scott alternated smacks on
Aiden’s inner thighs, his hand coming dangerously close
to Aiden’s crotch as Aiden fought to keep his legs open.
Aiden began to whimper in time with the blows, jerking
and rolling in his seat as he tried to get Scott’s hand to
graze his cock or balls.
Scott laughed. “Oh, we’re gonna have fun tonight.”
Aiden rubbed himself through his jeans, the sting
from Scott’s slaps still crawling up and down his thighs.
He put his head back on the seat rest and tried to stretch
his legs out. He had to piss bad, and the sensation of
being full and desperate was turning him on. Fuck,
everything was turning him on right now.
“Jerk yourself, slut,” Scott ordered.
Arousal ripped through Aiden at the sharpness of
Scott’s voice, at the word “slut,” and he tried his best to
tug his dick through the denim.
“Stop,” Scott said as they pulled into the driveway
of a one-story, brown brick house. “You won’t touch
yourself again tonight without my permission. Is that
clear?”
“Yes, Sir.” Aiden tried to hide his frustration. He
would give anything to keep touching himself right now.
Or better yet, to have Scott touch him…
Scott got out. Aiden reached for his door handle
and stopped. Scott was probably one of those tops who
didn’t want a sub to do anything without permission.
Scott came around and opened Aiden’s door. He reached
in and grabbed Aiden’s right nipple through his tight
gray tee. Aiden bit back a cry as Scott pulled him out of
the car and led him by his tit up the driveway and onto
the front porch, where he took hold of both of Aiden’s
nipples, rolling and squeezing them. Aiden closed his
eyes.
“You like that? You’re into pain, I remember. A
little pain slut.”
Aiden tolerated pain better than a lot of subs he
knew, but it was the mindfuck he was really into. And
Scott knew how to mess with a sub’s mind as well as his
body, knew ways of establishing unequivocal control
that no sub would dare doubt or resist.
“Mmn.” His tits hurt like nothing else, and his heart
butted up against his chest.
Scott released him to unlock the door, then sent
Aiden into the dark hallway with a swat to his rear. Scott
turned on the light. The house was clean and tidy.
Framed photos on the wall depicted decidedly
nondeviant scenes—a barn covered in snow, a
waterwheel, a duck hunt.
Aiden didn’t have too much time to dwell on decor.
He was shepherded into the kitchen and ordered to
stand in the center of the room while Scott fetched a beer
and a bottled water from the fridge. Scott opened his
beer on the table’s edge and sat down. He swigged his
beer, watching Aiden.
“Strip,” he said quietly.
Aiden pulled off his T-shirt and then undid his
jeans, sliding them to the floor. He tried to step out of
them, but his left leg got caught in the bunched denim
and he floundered until he was able to reach down and
untangle himself. He hesitated at the waistband of his
briefs. There was something terrifying yet wickedly hot
about the idea of standing naked in this quiet room, with
Scott’s gaze on him.
“What are you waiting for?”
Aiden flushed and removed his underwear. He
held on to his clothes, not sure if Scott wanted him to
fold them and place them somewhere.
“Drop them,” Scott ordered. “Hands behind your
head.”
Aiden dropped the clothes and clasped his hands
behind his head, utterly exposed. His cock strained
upward, as red as he imagined his face must be, its web
of veins visibly pulsing. He felt Scott look him up and
down, and struggled to keep his gaze on the floor. He
knew he had a hot body, slim and well-proportioned
with softly defined muscles and pale, smooth skin.
“Nice enough,” Scott muttered.
Aiden felt a flash of resentment.
Nice enough
? You
couldn’t find a better-looking sub at Obey, unless you
really had a thing for barely legal blond supertwinks.
“You’re too thin. Could do with some bulking up.
Pretty hips. And I like your hair. What’s that color called
—like a reddish brown?” Scott snapped his fingers.
“Chestnut. Like a horse.”
Aiden tried not to let it bother him that Scott was
sitting there appraising him as though he were an
animal. He reminded himself that every minute Scott
spent assessing him was a minute Scott didn’t spend
torturing him.
“Turn around,” Scott said. “Let me see your ass.”
Aiden turned.
“Nice. Small but well-shaped. Needs some color,
but I’ll fix that.” He stood and approached.
Aiden jumped as Scott placed a hand on his butt.
“Think I’ll have a hard time stuffing my cock up
that tight little ass?”
“No, Sir. I mean, I’ll take it.”
Despite how hard the conversation was making
Aiden, there was something ridiculous about it too. He
didn’t like when tops talked about their monster dicks or
how Aiden’d better take them to the hilt without
whining. He liked the psychological aspect of BDSM
play, but there were always parts of any scene that felt
so… fake.
Aiden’s cock bobbed against his belly, and he
wished to God Scott would touch him. As if reading his
mind, Scott said, “You should know your dick doesn’t
concern me in the least. Your ass and mouth are what I
care about. I’m going to use you however I like, all night,
and I could give a shit if you squirt or not. Face me.”
Aiden did.
Scott’s dark eyes glittered, and Aiden swallowed on
a wave of arousal.
“What’s your safe word?”
“Mushroom,” Aiden said.
Scott laughed. “Mushroom.” He grabbed the water
bottle from the table and uncapped it. “Sit down.” He
took a seat himself and handed Aiden the water. “Drink
that. And tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?” Aiden asked. “Sir?”
“What’s your name, where’re you from, what are
your hobbies… shit like that.”
Aiden took a nervous swig of water. This was
different from the scenarios he was used to. Because
Scott was different from most tops. Most tops were like
Daddy—they drooled over Aiden like a prize, could
hardly wait to get him through the door before they were
on him, pawing, yanking, panting… as though if they
didn’t claim him right away, he might disappear. They
often wanted to kiss Aiden or pet him, make him feel
good so that he’d want to come home with them again.
That wasn’t what Aiden was after. He wanted a true top,
in control and insecurity-free. He wanted to feel owned,
used, and utterly debased.
“My name’s Aiden,” he began.
“Shithead,” Scott said.
“What?”
“Your name’s Shithead.” Scott said it as though he
was correcting a minor grammatical error in Aiden’s
speech.
“Oh,” Aiden said uncertainly. “Okay.”
“While you’re here, your name’s Shithead. Drink
that water.”
Aiden took a few gulps.
“Where’re you from, Shithead?”
“Tremont? It’s about fifteen minutes north of here.”
Aiden drank until a little less than half the bottle
remained.
“What do you do?” Scott asked.
“I work at a restaurant right now. But I studied
theater in college. I think I—”
Scott snorted into his beer. “That’s why you’re so
popular.”
Aiden tilted his head, not sure what Scott meant.
“I’ve heard about you. You do it all. Choirboy,
army recruit, rent boy, slave… That must be why you’re
so good at role-play. You’re an actor.”
Aiden wasn’t sure whether Scott was mocking him
or complimenting him, so he kept quiet and drank the
rest of the water, ignoring his bladder’s protest.
Scott got another bottle from the fridge and put it in
front of him.
“So let’s get your story straight,” Scott said. “Your
name’s Shithead. You crawled out of my asshole for the
sole purpose of serving me. Your hobbies are sucking
my cock, taking my cock up your ass, and screaming
while I strap your butt raw. Got it?”
In spite of the water, Aiden’s throat went dry. “Yes,
Sir,” he managed.
“Good.” Scott reached out and stroked Aiden’s jaw
with one finger. “Come on. Let’s tack you up.”
Scott took Aiden by the arm and pulled him from
the kitchen down a narrow hall. They stopped at the last
room on the right. Scott pushed open the door, flipped
on the light, and led Aiden through the bedroom and
into the attached bathroom. He spun Aiden so Aiden