Pup (13 page)
“The cage won’t allow you to get hard, and if you try, you’ll only succeed in hurting yourself.” Tackett stood and kissed Micah on the forehead. “Okay, pup. If you’ll be so kind as to draw me a bath, I think I’ll soak and do a little planning for the evening.”
drew Tackett’s bath, getting him settled into the tub with a glass of soda within reach, and hurried back to the kitchen to prepare dinner. He was thankful Tackett hadn’t asked to be washed. He’d started to get hard just from seeing the sexy fucker naked, and that had been painful. He may have caused himself real damage had he actually had to touch the man.
As infuriating as the damn thing was, Micah was also thankful for the cock cage. It was heavy and going to take some getting used to, but it told him Tackett hadn’t given up on him. He’d been so scared after Tackett left, sure the man would come back and tell him to pack his things again. It was that fear that kept him focused and allowed him to complete everything on Tackett’s chore list in record time and be seated in the tub when he returned.
He wouldn’t give Tackett a reason to make him leave or regret signing the contract with him. Oh, God. When Tackett had pulled out the contract and handed it to him, it’d felt like a two-ton weight had been removed from his chest. He’d been given another chance. He refused to fail this time.
Rummaging in a junk drawer he’d discovered while looking for cooking utensils, he dug until he found what he was looking for. He wrapped the rubber band around his wrist, snapping it. He had learned the sting stopped his mind from wandering while taking drink orders; it would come in handy to keep him focused on Tackett.
Micah pulled the roast from the oven, removing the cover and basting it before returning it to the oven. He then cut up fresh carrots and dropped them into a pot with fresh peas, adding a few of the new spices Tackett had purchased and a dollop of butter. Once everything was cooking, he set the dining room table with plates and cutlery for two, and not once did he have to snap the rubber band. It wasn’t until Tackett emerged, still damp, wearing nothing more than a pair of blue silk boxers, did he have to give himself a snap.
He stopped dead while taking the bowl of carrots and peas to the table, his eyes going wide and settling on a water droplet that dripped from Tackett’s saltand-pepper hair and slowly traveled down the thick tendon on the side of his neck. Oh, fuck, how he wanted to lick that droplet from Tackett’s skin. Taste and tease. Pain radiated from his dick, causing him to wince, and he hurried to the table and set the bowl down. “Dinner’s ready, Sir. If you want to have a seat, I’ll grab the bread.”
Micah turned away and pulled that damn rubber band over and over. Between it and the cage, he was more under control when he brought the bread back to the table and stood next to Tackett.
“Thank you, pup. It smells delicious.”
Micah took Tackett’s plate and filled it with roast, gravy, and vegetables, adding a large hunk of bread on the side, before setting it down in front of Tackett. “Butter, Sir?”
“No this looks great. You may have a seat now.”
“Thank you, Sir.” He smiled, relieved Tackett seemed pleased, and took his own seat. He filled his plate and waited until Tackett had picked up his fork and taken a bite before lifting his own.
“And it tastes even better than it smells. Well done, pup.”
Micah puffed up a little, preening at Tackett’s praise. “Thank you, Sir.” He took a small bite of his roast, humming a little at the flavor. It really was very good.
He’d been a little worried since he’d only prepared it one other time on his own. It was his mom’s recipe. She had allowed him to help with it many times while growing up. She’d pull it from the pan and allow him to baste it. He hadn’t really done much, but some of the happiest times of his childhood had been spent in their small kitchen with the scent of roast, or cookies and cakes.
Snap.
Micah sat up straighter and gazed at Tackett, watching as he cut another piece of roast and popped it into his mouth.
Focus, Micah
.
“If I may ask, Sir. Did your bath help with your planning?” Micah took another bite of roast, pushing all other thoughts out of his head.
Tackett nodded. “Tonight will be fairly easy. Give you a chance to get used to the cage. You’ll clean up from supper, kneel at my feet while I watch the news, and after your punishment, I want you in the bed in the spare room. Tomorrow will be a heavy day of submission and you’ll need your rest.”
Micah’s head snapped up. “In the spare room, Sir?”
Lowering his eyes, Micah pushed the peas around on his plate. “No, Sir,” he replied sadly. He should have known. He’d teased the man about cuddling; it was his own fault he was being banned from Tackett’s bed.
Tackett must have heard the disappointment in his voice, because he added, “Like the removal of the cage, you can earn your way back into my bed, pup.” He took another bite of roast. “This really is quite delicious.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Micah said quickly, relieved he’d be given the chance and Tackett wasn’t kicking him out permanently. Hope caused the disappointment to dissipate a little, and he took one last bite of his dinner and set his fork next to his plate.
“Would you like more, Sir?” “I’d love more roast. If you’re done, you can kneel next to me while I finish.”
Micah added another large slice of roast to Tackett’s plate and then dropped to his knees, hands in his lap and head bowed. After only a few minutes, his mind started to drift, and he snapped the rubber band. He felt Tackett run a hand over the top of his hair, and he couldn’t resist the urge to push into the light touch.
“It’s okay, pup. We’ll figure this out together.”
Micah sighed. “Yes, Sir. I truly hope so, Sir.”
walked around Micah, inspecting his boy. He was on his knees in the middle of the living room, the furniture pushed back and coffee table removed. Micah was completely naked; his only adornments were the silver cock cage and piercings. Micah’s dark head was bowed, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.
Micah held out his hands, and Tackett secured the heavy leather cuffs Micah had picked out at Vibes. He’d have preferred to have Micah strapped to a St. Andrew’s Cross or chained to the wall for his punishment, but since he wasn’t accustomed to having subs at home, he would have to improvise. It would also be a test of willpower for Micah. While his wrists would be bound to the ottoman, it was a light piece of furniture Micah could easily lift. He’d have to force himself to remain still.
Micah’s words came out slowly, deliberately. He also moved quickly and smoothly into position. He had sat at Tackett’s feet during the thirty-minute news program, and only occasionally did Tackett hear the sound of rubber hitting flesh. Tackett hated that damn thing around Micah’s wrist. He’d had to control his response every time he heard it because it was a reminder of how much Micah was struggling. Tackett hoped Micah eventually wouldn’t have to rely on it, that he could be all Micah needed. The realization of that both thrilled and frightened the shit out of him.
When Tackett had made Micah strip, announcing it was time for his punishment, he’d looked almost relieved. It had taken Micah a few moments to calm down and find his headspace, but Tackett’s touch to his bowed head helped ground him.
Setting the crop aside, Tackett used the strips of rope he’d cut to secure the cuffs to the legs of the ottoman, then once again retrieved the crop and stepped back. The leather-covered stool wasn’t very wide, only allowing Micah to rest his torso across it, but it was the perfect height, which allowed the bound man to rest comfortably on his knees with his upper body supported.
“You are being punished for your disobedience and for putting your needs before mine. How many strikes, boy?”
“I don’t punish you for my pleasure, pup, but to help teach you when you’ve made a mistake. A reminder that mistakes have been made, you’ve paid for those mistakes, and then been forgiven.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. However, I’ve made a lot of mistakes since I’ve been here.” Micah took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’ve lost count,” he said remorsefully.
Tackett ran a hand soothingly over Micah’s back. “It’s okay, pup. I haven’t kept you informed on which offenses would be punished. I won’t let that happen in the future. For tonight, one strike for putting your needs before mine, a second for interrupting me while I was speaking, and a third for not addressing me as ‘Sir’ this morning. Do you understand what you’re being punished for, pup?”
“Three strikes. Count each one, pup, out loud.” He quickly brought down the crop, raising a red line across Micah’s ass.
Tackett brought the crop down firmly again, raising a second red line directly above the first. Micah’s back bowed briefly, and then he blew out a heavy breath. “Two, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
A third line was added just below the first. “Ah, God,” Micah groaned. “Tthree. Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome, pup.” Tackett set the crop aside and inspected the stripes. Micah clenched his ass when Tackett brushed a finger gently over one raised welt, a small hissing sound escaping him, but he settled quickly, the tension easing from his ass, back, and shoulders. Tackett laid a soothing hand on Micah’s lower back. Satisfied there was no broken skin, Tackett quickly released the cuffs from Micah’s wrists, leaving them attached to the ottoman. He’d take care of everything once he helped Micah to bed.
“C’mon, pup. We’ll get you tucked in bed, and I’ll put salve on your wounds.”
Micah rose, Tackett having to wrap an arm around the boy’s waist to steady him when he swayed a little. He held him close, leading him to the spare bedroom and pulling back the covers before helping Micah to lie on his stomach.
Retrieving the jar of salve from where he’d left it earlier on the nightstand, he opened it and pulled out a generous amount with two fingers. “You took your punishment very well, pup,” Tackett said calmly as he applied the medication to Micah’s backside. Micah tensed for a brief moment when the cold salve touched his skin but relaxed quickly with a sigh. “I’m very proud of you.”
Once all three wounds were cared for, Tackett wiped his hand across his thighs, and pulled the covers up over Micah. Tackett had to force himself to walk away, moving back to the doorway. Without turning around, knowing his control was beginning to fray, Tackett flipped off the light. “Good night, boy,” he said and stepped out of the room before he could give in to the urge to crawl up next to Micah and wrap him in his arms while he slept.
out and encountering cold empty sheets, Tackett opened his eyes and scowled. It took him a couple of moments to register what was causing his ire, and then it dawned on him. There was no warm body lying next to him, and his frown deepened. Tackett flopped back and scrubbed his hands across his face, the stubble on his jaw coarse and itchy, irritating.
Another thing that was irritating as hell was waking up with a hard and throbbing cock and an empty space next to him. Tackett scowled at that side of the bed like it offended him, which was ridiculous. It wasn’t even his or Micah’s fault. It was, however, his job to make sure Micah returned to Tackett’s bed and disposed of that fucking rubber band. Throwing off the covers, Tackett went to wake his boy. He had no plans to take it easy on Micah; it wouldn’t be fair to the pup, but the sooner they got started, the sooner they would both sleep easier.
Knocking his knuckles lightly against the door in warning, he pushed open the door to the spare bedroom and found Micah sitting on the edge of the bed, sheet across his lap, hands resting there.
“Good, morning, pup. You ready to start the day?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Micah groaned, the sound pitiful, and Tackett noticed a slight trembling of the boy’s muscles.
Alarm infused Tackett when he heard the distress in Micah’s voice and caught a glimpse of the pallor of Micah’s face. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? In pain?” he asked, going to his knees in front of his boy, grabbing his shoulders.
“No, Sir,” Micah responded, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “I… I couldn’t remember if you told me to stay in bed until you came for me.”
Tackett took Micah’s hand in his, the wrist with the rubber band red and irritated. He ran his thumb gently over the angry red mark. “I should have specified. I’m sorry, boy. If you need help with anything, you ask, okay? I’ll never get angry at you for needing help.”
“I didn’t want to wake you, Sir.”
“New rule, Micah. If you need something, you ask me, and that means even if you have to wake me up. Understood?”
Micah nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
Tackett released Micah’s wrist and sat back. “What has you so distressed this morning, pup?”
The color in Micah’s cheeks deepened, and he pulled the sheet from his lap. “Piss hard-on, Sir.”
Ouch! Micah’s cock was red and bulging between the metal bars. Tackett moved quickly out of the way. “Go!” He pointed to the door.
“Thank you, Sir.” Micah stood, hands instantly going to his crotch, his body seeming to curl in on itself, and walked stiffly out of the room. Tackett laid his head on the mattress, muffling the sounds of his laughter. Dear God, the boy really did need a very, very specific set of rules. At least with the pain in his dick, he’d forgotten about the red stripes on his ass. Tackett got himself under control and pulled himself to his feet. He’d better not leave Micah unattended too long. No telling what kind of damage the boy would do to himself if left to his own devices.
Halfway down the hall, Tackett laughed again at the loud sound of relief that came from the bathroom.
He stepped into the room in time to see Micah standing over the commode, one hand on the wall, head down. With the last jet of urine, a visible shudder went through the man, and he sighed noisily.
“Feel better, pup?”
“Oh fuck, yeah! I wasn’t sure which was going to explode first, my dick or my bladder.” Micah pushed off the wall and spun around, blue eyes wide. “I mean yes, Sir.”
Tackett ruffled Micah’s disheveled curls. “That’s good. And I’m pleased that neither exploded. You have my permission to relieve yourself whenever you need to. It is your responsibility to take care of those things before going to bed and before a scene.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Set the taps please. We’ll get you washed up and brushed before your discipline this morning.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Micah said, moving quickly.
Tackett drained his own bladder while Micah set the temperature on the shower. Before joining Micah, he grabbed the bag and tubing from under the sink and filled it with warm water.
Micah didn’t say a word when Tackett hung the bag from one of the showerheads, but his brow creased, and he watched Tackett’s every move with interest. Without acknowledging Micah’s scowl, Tackett grabbed the bar of soap, lathered up his hands, and began washing Micah. He’d have preferred to follow the same routine as the morning beforediscipline, shower, teeth, and breakfastbut as long as they were the same each morning, the order wasn’t important. What was, was that Micah knew the routine and wouldn’t have to worry about anything; he could trust Tackett to know what he needed.
As he moved his hands over Micah’s strong, lean body, Tackett massaged his flesh, fingers digging in a little. He paid special attention to his cock and balls, making sure the skin beneath the cage was clean and inspecting for any abrasions or raw skin.
Throughout his shower, Micah never said a word, just watched Tackett carefully, eyes shifting occasionally to the bag, but Tackett’s roaming hands quickly brought the boy’s attention back, Micah melting into his touch. Once finished, he handed the soap to Micah.
Micah took the bar and washed Tackett. The only sounds were from the flowing water and Tackett’s hum of approval as Micah’s hands moved over him. This was becoming one of his favorite morning rituals, both giving and receiving. There was something incredibly erotic and intimate in the act.
Micah continued to glance at the bag and tubing as he washed Tackett, his movements a little shaky, but it was enough of a distraction that Micah was able to wash Tackett without his mind wandering off to wherever Micah’s thoughts randomly ran away to.
When the last of the suds were washed away down the drain, only then did Tackett retrieve the tubing. “Turn around, hands against the wall, please.”
Micah looked nervous, his body tense and jerking, but he complied. “Yes, Sir,” he said, apprehension in his voice.
After retrieving lube from the shelf, Tackett slicked his finger and the tip of the tubing. Micah jumped when he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Shh,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Gonna clean you out, get you ready for that pretty metal plug you seemed so fond of.”