Chapter 20 #2
I shrugged. “Or it’s not. BDSM is not just fucking with the body. It’s fucking with the mind. Or hell, it might just be the mind. There’s a Domme in New York. Men pay her so they can clean her condo. Obviously both parties are getting something out of it—”
Jack waved his hand in the air. “So, like, I would pay a guy so I could clean his house?”
“Yep. Submission fetish. Might or might not involve the reward of sex, but just as often not. Some people just want to be told what to do. Often the more powerful they are in their professional lives, the more they need help decompressing.”
He shook his head. “There’s a whole world out there I know nothing about. I thought I’d gone down enough rabbit holes.”
“Millions of people with nearly infinite kinks. If you can dream it up, someone somewhere is doing it.”
“I don’t want to be humiliated.”
“I know. Or rather, I guessed. You want to be told you’re a good boy.”
He nodded.
“Easily done if you behave.” I gestured to our amazingly empty plates. Somehow, we’d discussed some really heavy things and managed to eat a healthy meal. “You’re going to strip, do the dishes, then come over to the couch.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Don’t I need a shower?”
I laughed. “I intend to get you dirty. Then I’ll give you a shower as a reward. If you’re a really good boy, I might even give you a blowjob.” I rose. “I’ll be waiting. Wash the dishes by hand, then come and see me.”
We rose.
He removed the robe, carefully folded it, then put it on a chair.
While I headed to the bedroom, he began washing the dishes.
I flipped open my suitcase and eyed my choices.
I snagged what I wanted, grinned to myself, and headed back into the main living space.
Then I flopped on the couch. I grabbed the remote and found the streaming service I wanted.
The one I’d added this morning while Jack was asleep.
I doubted he’d complain at the extra charge.
If he did, I’d happily pay for it. After hitting mute, I listened for Jack to finish.
Moments later, he appeared. He glanced toward the screen, did a double take, then his gaze shot to mine. “Really?”
I grinned. “I mean, if gay porn isn’t your thing, then you can just watch it for the, I dunno, background music.”
He nearly rolled his eyes, but caught himself at the last minute. “As Sir wishes.” His cheeks pinkened. “I enjoy gay porn.”
“Perfect.” I held up the cock cage. “I’m going for a run. I want to make sure you don’t get too excited while I’m gone. Your erections—and more particularly your cum—are all mine this week.”
His eyes widened. He glanced at the screen where three guys were clearly enjoying themselves. To my delight, his cock was already showing signs of interest.
“Come here.”
He obeyed. He didn’t even complain when I snapped the cock cage in place. I put the key on the coffee table. “For emergencies. I’ll never leave you without a way out of any situation.”
“That’s very considerate of you.”
“Think about the blowjob while I’m running.”
For the first time, his gaze shot to the window where rain continued to lash the panes. “You’re nuts.”
“Jack.” With a warning tone.
He lowered his gaze.
“I appreciate your concern. I’m also a grown man who can make his own decisions.
I like running in the rain. Have done it numerous times in Abbotsford.
I don’t like the word nuts. If I were doing something dangerous, then yes, that word might be appropriate.
I’m going for a run in the rain and then will warm up in the shower while I blow you.
Sit on the couch, be a good boy, and I’ll be back.
” I rose, then pressed a kiss to his lips.
He tried to deepen it.
I pulled back with a chuckle. “Not yet.” I grabbed the remote and unmuted the television. “Now, I want you leaning against the back of the couch with your ass sticking out.”
He eyed the coffee table.
“Surely you’re familiar with that.”
“Yep.” A bit tight.
“Something you don’t enjoy?” I held his gaze.
He pinkened. “Maybe the opposite.”
I smiled knowingly. “It vibrates.”
Cheeks crimson red. “I assumed..”
I arched an eyebrow. “Now, are you going to be a good boy, or—”
He hustled to the back of the couch. He held on to it as he stuck his gorgeous ass out.
I swatted it before I lubed up his hole, gently inserted vibrating plug, then kissed his spine in several places. “Sit on the sheet. I don’t want that pretty ass of yours getting cold on the leather.” Or anything leaking when you start squirming.
“Yes, Sir.” He organized the sheet, then sat on it.
Sounds of heavy breathing, slapping flesh, and all kinds of other delightful things filled the room.
“Later.”
He pulled his attention away from the screen to meet my gaze. “Be safe, Sir.”
“I always am.”
The consideration he showed me—and always did—carried me through my run in the pouring rain.
We were at the beginning of an atmospheric river.
The cabin was safe from the deluge of water, and chances were, the roads would be fine—especially by the time we were ready to return to reality.
Dinner at the restaurant in town on our final night was likely okay as well.
As my feet hit the pavement, I attempted to drive thoughts of Jack, hockey, and my mother from my mind. This was just me, my body, and the future I envisioned.
Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on one’s masochistic point of view—every scenario in the future involved Jack Showalter.
Fuck my life.