50. Doc
S hifting from one foot to another, I try to ignore the uncomfortableness in my pelvic region. Soren says it’s a phantom symptom, that he’s too good at his job to have put it in wrong, that it’d hurt if that was the case, and I know he’s correct. It’s a new sensation and kink, and it's going to take time to get used to, but that doesn’t mean the feeling of being full isn’t real.
“Are you okay, Zaychik?” Ilyona asks.
I give her what I hope is a believable smile. “Yes, Mama, I’m fine.”
“You’re dancing around like you have ants in your pants. If you were a little kid, I would think you had to potty. Sory used to do that, you know? He was terrified of the toilet, so he’d hold it for as long as possible, and then whine and cry while hopping from foot to foot, trying to make it to the bathroom. Lots of accidents in those days, let me tell you.”
I hope my blush isn’t too noticeable. Because while she’s not right, she’s not entirely wrong either, and the last thing I want is to clue my mother-in-law in on my current predicament.
Ilyona shows me how to fold and pinch the pelmeni before boiling. When she heard James does most of the cooking because I have negative zero interest, she decided that was a tragedy and dragged me into the kitchen with her to make one of Daddy’s favorite dishes.
I’m not big on dumplings as a whole, but Ilyona insists it’s just because I’ve never had the Russian equivalent.
I have to admit, if it wasn’t for my current… situation , cooking with Daddy’s mother would be fun. Getting to know her over the past three weeks has been fun. She’s full of Russian swears, and stories of Daddy and the triplets. Daddy likes to pretend her presence is an annoyance, and asks her every day when she’s going home, but I can tell he likes having her around.
“Maybe you should sit down and I’ll cook them.” She looks at me with concern etched on her face. “You’re supposed to be resting. I know it’s been about ten weeks since you got hurt, but that doesn’t mean you have to be pushing yourself too hard.”
“I’m fine, Mama. Promise. You’re right, maybe I overdid it, but I promise, it’s nothing to worry about.”
I just pushed my Daddy too far and now he’s skillfully punishing me without even being in the same room.
She makes a noise I’ve come to interpret as ‘she doesn’t believe you, but will let you get away with it anyway’. It works about eighty percent of the time on her son. He usually falls for her tricks, despite growing up with her. I, however, came into adulthood alongside Tennant and Cristian, so it’ll take a lot more than some motherly manipulation to get me to crack. Plus, I really don’t want to scar us all by confessing what Daddy and I do behind closed doors.
Which is difficult enough as I miss the days of being able to play in the family room, or even in the kitchen, whoever decides to enter the room at that time be damned. If it was just the trips, neither Daddy nor I would care, they’re family like James, Enzo, and Kail are. Ilyona is different, there’s not enough therapy in the world for us to risk that. So, as much as I love having Ilyona here, I am also counting down the days to the end of the week when she finally goes home.
I help Ilyona boil a few of the pelmeni, trying to get a handle on how to make them. Though she assures me that the trips know how to make them, along with a few other traditional dishes.
“It is one of my only regrets,” she admits as we stand at the stove. “I thought I was protecting him. I knew he was different, not as hard or as vicious as Nisha always wanted his son to be. I thought by stunting him, and keeping those parts of his culture from him, it would help him see that there’s a life outside the Bratva. When I left…” She pauses and swallows, her eyes closing for a long moment.
“When Nisha pushed me away and I decided I’d had enough, I thought it would be best for us all. I hated that I couldn’t bring Sory with me, but there was no way Nisha was going to let him go. He belonged to the Bratva, and even Ivan was reluctant to let him go so far whenever I managed to get him for a few weeks during the summer. Though Ivan’s reasons were different from Nisha’s.
“Ivan knew what would happen if Nisha discovered he was gay. He tried his best to protect Soren, but he had the Bratva and his own son to worry about; I do not blame him for anything that happened.” She takes a shaky breath and I place a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay, he doesn’t blame you for anything. He understands. He knew what his father was like, and understood you didn’t have a choice in anything that happened.”
She nods and takes a shaky breath, using the bottom of her apron to wipe her watery eyes. “Thank you, Doc. You’re a good man, and I am so glad my son found you.”
I smile. “Me too, Mama.”
“Let’s finish up before we have a kitchen full of hungry boys. I remember how hangry the Novikovs get.”
I laugh and get the last batch of pelmeni in the pot.
“How are you doing, baby?” Daddy asks when we’re in our bedroom. “I feel as if I haven’t been able to get you alone all day.”
“I’m okay.”
He hums. “Did you have to empty the bag?”
I scowl at him. “Yeah, once after lunch. Let me tell you, its fucking awkward when your best friend asks why you’re taking so long, after he asks why you’re using the stall like you’re body shy.”
He laughs. “Aww, my poor baby. You should have told him, he would have liked to know.”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
The bite of my words earns me a raised eyebrow. “Do you want to spend another day with it in?”
I bite my lip. “Please, Daddy. I’ve learned my lesson, no more drugging my Daddy.”
He hums and begins undressing me. When he slides my underwear off, he picks up my cock and inspects it.
My face heats and I’m sure my entire upper body is flushed red with embarrassment.
“It’s a natural thing, baby,” he says. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. If you don’t like it… Well, it’s a punishment for a reason. I won’t apologize unless you safeword. Some people like the feeling, they like the fullness, knowing their Dom is in control of every aspect of them. Taking the choice away makes their lives easier. They don’t have to consciously think about such a simple bodily function.
“I know that’s not how we play, but I have to say,”—he drops to his knees and inspects the bag strapped to my leg—“I quite like seeing my control over you.”
“Daddy,” I whine.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby.” He soothes me, sliding a hand up my other leg. “Let’s go into the bathroom and I’ll take it out.”
He helps me the rest of the way out of my pants and leads me into the bathroom. I shut my eyes when he closes the line off and removes the discharge bag. Tears burn the back of my eyes, not out of upset, but embarrassment. This isn’t either of our kink, but Daddy is right that the control is more…intense.
It’s an intimate thing, even more so than Daddy peeing in me. This is something so natural and part of being human, yet we’re taught it’s private and taboo, and something we learn to take care of ourselves at a very young age.
Daddy is using it as a punishment because he knows that while degradation gets me off, the quiet humiliation of this doesn’t. He’s using it to show me how much control he has over me, that I may have made him powerless once when I drugged him, but that doesn’t mean I’m the one in charge of our relationship. I’d say it’s effective as the embarrassment kept me on edge all day.
As Daddy carefully slides the catheter out of my urethra, I shiver. It doesn’t hurt, but the feeling as the tube slides out of me is weird , maybe even more so than when it went in.
Once everything is discarded in the trash and he’s wiped my dick down, Daddy washes his hands and then leads me over to the sink so I can wash my own—even though I didn’t touch anything, it does help make me feel cleaner.
Daddy turns me in his arms afterwards and holds me close. “Okay?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m fine, thank you.”
He smiles. “You’re welcome, baby. I’m here for you, anytime.”
“I know.” Dipping my head, I press a kiss to his mouth. “I love you, thank you for taking a chance on me.”
He tightens his arms around me, digging his fingernails into my bare flesh for a flash of pain, making me moan. “Thank you , baby, for loving me and everything I come with.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
When he kisses me, hard and deep, and so full of emotion, I sink into him and make no plans to move anytime soon.
I never expected to find someone who would not only put up with me, but get me, and I certainly never wanted a Daddy. It's a good thing mine knew me better than I did, and showed me that I can have everything I’ve always wanted and needed.
Who knew unconditional love was a real thing? Until Daddy, I didn’t. Thankfully, one of us knew what they were doing.
I am the luckiest brat ever.
THE END