Pup (8 page)
. Mean. Mean.
That’s what Tackett was. Mean! Mean and hateful and Micah wanted to wipe that smug smile off the big mean Dom’s face.
Ugh!
“You sure you don’t want one?” Tackett asked, holding out a cream puff. “They’re quite delicious.” He emphasized his words by licking his fingers with a loud smacking sound.
Micah crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. “No, thank you, Sir.” He refused to look at Tackett or the four items lying on the coffee table in front of him.
He’d been so damned excited after leaving Vibes, he could barely breathe. Now only his dick was still excited, the bastard refusing to go down, throbbing and weeping. The rest of him wanted to scream. Maybe throw a shit fit. The only thing his head and cock agreed on was they both wanted to spew—one in the fun, wet, and moaning kind of way, and the other with ugly profanities.
On the way back, he hadn’t minded when Tackett suggested they stop and have a late lunch. He’d been hungry, considering the small breakfast he’d had. However, Micah hadn’t been particularly happy when the man had chosen a popular deli where they had to wait thirty minutes in line, and then dine in. After all, a fast food drive-thru would have taken less time. He hadn’t complained. And he’d continued biting back his protest when Tackett wanted to stop and pick up a few groceries, even though the bag with the plug and paddle was at his feet, brushing against his leg. Nope, he’d been good and followed Tackett down every fucking aisle with a smile on his face.
Did they return to Tackett’s house after leaving the food mart? Oh no! They had to stop by Micah’s apartment to pick up clothes. Pack enough for a couple days, he had said. Yeah, he hadn’t wanted to pop his roommate Joe in the nose when he wouldn’t shut the hell up and let Micah just grab his clothes and run out the door. With his toys and a sexy, mean Dom sitting out in the car, Joe thought it was all-important to tell him about the superintendent’s plans to run new wiring. How they would be without power for at least twenty-four hours. Who cared? Ever heard of a candle?
Micah stole a look in Tackett’s direction and scowled. Cream puff? Really?
Help me put away the groceries, Micah. I think I’ll put on a pot of coffee. Would you like some, Micah? Cream puff, Micah?
UGH!
How long did it take to eat a fucking cream puff? They had new toys, dammit! Micah blew out another frustrated huff.
“No, thank you, Sir,” he echoed with a little more irritation in his voice this time.
Tackett shrugged and popped the puff into his mouth, humming a little as he chewed.
Mean bastard
.
“I thought you said you had a hard time focusing.” Tackett leaned back on the couch next to him, bumping his shoulder. “You have no problem focusing on your needs.”
“I….” Micah snapped his mouth closed. “Wait—”
“Here’s the thing,” Tackett said, sitting forward. He gathered up the items on the table and rewrapped them. “Doms are to make sure their subs get what they need. I think I was doing pretty well at that.” He placed the wrapped cuffs in the bag and moved on to the plug. “I bought you things for your pleasure, satisfied your hunger, made sure you have your own clothes, as well as being thoughtful by wanting you to have food and drinks you like while you are here.”
Micah’s gut rolled with guilt. Tackett was right. He’d been so focused on his dick and new toys he hadn’t stopped once to think of why Tackett was doing what he was, instantly assuming he was doing it for no other reason than to torment him. He’d allowed his anger at being denied to cloud his judgments. “I’m sor—”
“Stop! Not a word, Micah,” Tackett said sternly.
Micah bit his lip, tension creeping up his spine as he waited while Tackett silently packed up the toys. Micah tried to read his face, but it was blank. Once the last item was wrapped and returned to the bag, Tackett got up, grabbed the bag, and moved to the door. He picked up his wallet from the small table and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans, and then picked up his keys. “Grab your things, Micah. I’ll drive you home,” Tackett said casually.
“No! I don’t want to go home.” Micah leapt from the couch. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I was so inconsiderate about your needs. I was selfish, and I have no excuse for my behavior.” Micah hesitantly placed a hand on Tackett’s arm, cringing when it was shrugged off.
“I said grab your things. Do it now,” Tackett snapped.
Panic raced through him, his pulse thundering in his ears.
Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.
Months he’d been fantasizing about Tackett, wanting him. Rarely did reality compare to fantasy, but Tackett did, and so much more.
How could I have been so fucking stupid?
Micah retrieved his backpack from where he’d left it next to the couch. His steps were slow as he walked back to Tackett. Eyes cast down, shoulders slumped in defeat, he stood before Tackett. “Please. What can I do to make this up to you, Sir?”
“I don’t like being played, Micah. I already told you, if you want to just fuck, I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you. So set the childish selfish bullshit aside and tell me straight, what it is you want?”
Micah kept his eyes on the floor. He couldn’t stand to see the anger—or worse, disappointment—in Tackett’s hazel eyes. “I want to be what you need. I need to be wanted by you, Sir,” he said.
“That sounds like a cleverly rehearsed speech, but do you even know what it really means?”
Micah started to say
Of course I do,
but he snapped his mouth closed when it occurred to him perhaps he didn’t know what the statement meant. Had he been saying it for so long it was now nothing more than a rehearsed speech without meaning? Had he been fooling himself, thinking he understood? From his actions today, the way he’d focused so hard on his needs without once considering Tackett’s, he’d have to answer no. He gripped the pack tightly in his shaking hands, his head throbbing as the implications pressed down on him.
“I thought I did.” Micah swallowed hard. “Now I’m not so sure I do,” he whispered. “The only thing I do know right now, at this moment, is I don’t want to leave. I want to make it up to you if I can, Sir.”
Tackett put down the bag he was holding and gripped Micah’s chin. “Look at me, Micah.”
Hesitantly, Micah lifted his gaze and met Tackett’s.
“I’m too old to be playing games. You tell me one minute you know exactly what you want, what you’re looking for, the next you’re not so sure. What am I supposed to do with you?”
“Show me what I need. Teach me how to please you, Sir,” he begged. “Please.”
Tackett sighed heavily. “You’re going to be the death of me, boy.” He took the backpack from Micah’s hand and set it down. “If I let you stay, you will do exactly what I ask of you. You’ll put my needs and my pleasure before your own, that’s how you can please me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Be sure, Micah, because once you make your choice, that’s it. If you don’t think you can submit to me, pick that bag up and I’ll take you home. If you can, I want you to strip, go to your knees, bow your head, and do not speak a word unless I ask you a question.”
Micah grabbed his belt, quickly undid his pants, and slipped out of them. He let the jeans and his boxers fall to the floor, then he kicked them to the side. His T-shirt joined the pile of discarded clothes as he dropped to his knees. Head bowed, back straight, shoulders squared, he clasped his hands behind him in a display of total submission. Micah concentrated on slowing his breathing and waited for Tackett’s direction. This part had been the easy choice.
silently watched as Micah removed his clothes and went to his knees, thankful the man had chosen to stay. Yet, as pleased as he was to have Micah naked at his feet, Tackett couldn’t help but question his motives. He’d given Micah every opportunity to change his behavior. Why had Tackett been so indulgent of his hijinks, so patient? Tackett had never allowed such insolence before. So why had he with this man? What he should have done was call a cab and thrown the little shit out on the curb to wait for it.
Was he? Was the funk he’d been in still infused in his mind, clouding his judgment? If he was going soft, how could he be what Micah or any sub needed? Just as sure as he knew his name, he knew Micah needed a firm hand. To be less than demanding, to question himself, would be a disservice to Micah and his submission. He reached out and ran his fingers along the soft curls on Micah’s head, hearing as much as feeling the man sigh.
“I gave you a chance to correct your misbehavior, Micah. You didn’t. The fact that you are on your knees tells me you know how you behaved was wrong but you can’t control yourself. You are asking me to control your conduct for you. Is this correct, boy?”
Pleased at Micah’s answer and tone, he stroked Micah’s curls again before stepping back. “Alright, we will do this my way. Give me two words, one to tell me to back off, another to stop.”
After a moment, Micah replied with carefully chosen words. “Turtle to slow down, turkey to stop, Sir.”
“I was thinking, if you have to stop doing something you like because it becomes too much or it’s bad for you, you know, like an addict. Well, the counselors always say addicts should go cold turkey, Sir.”
Oh, the way this boy’s mind worked did fascinate him. He smiled but kept his voice stern. “Turtle and turkey it is.”
Leaving Micah where he was, Tackett headed to the bedroom. He’d made it a practice in the past to never bring subs home, so he didn’t have many toys or tools here. He always preferred the setting of the club; it allowed him to keep the two separate. It was part of the reason he’d taken Micah to Vibes. With Guards of Folsom being closed, and him not wanting to deal with finding another club, he’d had to improvise. As much as he’d enjoy playing with the plug and other things, it was more important Micah learn a lesson. He’d have to earn the right to enjoy his gifts.
Opening the closet, Tackett pulled down a box from the shelf and rummaged through it until he found a pair of cuffs, similar to the ones Micah had passed over at the store. They’d been a gift he’d received from an appreciative sub. Tackett had no intentions of securing Micah. The cuffs were meant to remind the boy what he could have had, what he’d been hoping for. After returning the box to its place, he grabbed a tube of lube and a condom from the bedside table and slipped them, along with the keys to the cuffs, in the front pocket of his jeans before heading back out to the front room. Just because Micah wasn’t going to be enjoying the night’s festivities, there was no reason why Tackett should deprive himself of the pleasure of Micah’s body.
Micah rose smoothly to his feet, holding his hands out as ordered. Tackett attached a cuff to one wrist and then the other. “Not too tight, are they?”
Tackett carefully engaged the locking mechanism so they wouldn’t tighten and cause Micah undue pain. “Good. C’mon, pup, follow me.” He walked back to the bedroom, Micah silently following.
A quiver of excitement crept up Tackett’s spine. It had been far too long since he’d taken on this role, yet he stepped into the right headspace easily. It felt natural, right. He crossed to the large king-size bed. “Kneel in the center of the room, hands in your lap, head bowed.”
Tackett pulled back the coverlet, folding it at the end of the bed. He didn’t look behind him, confident the man would obey. After arranging the pillows and bedding to his liking, he sat down on the edge.
Micah was exactly where and in the position he’d instructed. Micah held perfectly still, not a trace of his normal jittery movements, only the slow, even rise and fall of his chest. Tackett paused a long moment to take in the sight before him. Micah was beautiful. The flawless tanned skin was smooth, his lean muscles well developed without being overly bulky. He truly did have the kind of body that should be idolized.
He could lose himself in looking at Micah’s body, but he didn’t want to keep the boy waiting too long. Micah was already distressed, surely internalizing his guilt. In the short time he’d known Micah, Tackett had learned enough to know how the man’s mind worked. Micah may be still, but his mind was working a mile a minute, no doubt beating himself up. He needed to be corrected, not tormented.
“You spent the day focused on what you want, so tonight, we are going to concentrate on what I want. You have two rules. One, you are not to speak unless I ask you a direct question or to use your safewords. Two, this is about my pleasure, not yours, so you are not to cum. Do you understand?”
Micah nodded. “Yes, Sir. I am not to speak unless you ask me a direct question or I use my words. I am not allowed to cum.”
Micah went to his feet without hesitation and came to him. He stood in front of Tackett, shifting a bit, unable to stand in the proper display position. His hands twitched in the cuffs as he tried to figure out what to do with them. Micah finally settled on holding them against his stomach.