20. Caleb #2
I take the thin cane from its case, then wait several more beats. It’s cruel. I know how much Seven hates isolation. He’s more afraid of being trapped, alone, than of pain.
That’s why pain can’t be punishment.
I hear soft whimpers from the bedroom, like he’s trying to contain a panicked reaction but can’t quite manage it.
I school my features and step outside again, my hand firmly around the cane.
He stops struggling when he sees me, but I see the tears streaking his face. He shudders when he sees the cane, but he takes a deep breath as relief fills his expression. “Thank you, Master,” he chokes out.
“Do you know why I’m angry?” I ask Seven in a cool voice.
Seven hesitates, then he shakes his head. “No, Master. I’m sorry, Master.”
The fact that he doesn’t understand why I’m furious makes it worse, somehow.
“How long have you been with me now?” I step closer to the bed and reach down to wipe a tear from his cheek.
He sniffles, visibly trying to pull himself together as he answers, “I don’t know. A few months?”
I nod. “And in those months, what have you been doing here?”
Confusion flickers across his expression. “A lot of things?” he asks more than says.
“Yes. Name them. Tell me what you’ve been doing while staying with me.” I drag the cane down his thigh.
Shuddering, Seven takes a moment before slowly replying, “Pleasing you, and Vortex, and Havoc. I mean… I mean, I thought I was pleasing you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and take another breath. “What else have you been doing? That isn’t sex.”
“Working. Playing with Nacho and Miss K.” He hesitates, then mumbles, “And gambling. I’m sorry. I’ve been doing too much. I should be… should be making sure I’m always there for you to use, Master.”
“Have I complained about that?” I ask. “Have I said, Seven, stop being a person and come service me ?”
He mutely shakes his head.
I lightly tap his thigh with the cane, nowhere near hard enough to hurt. “What do you do at your job?”
“I help other people?” Seven asks. “I do what Georgie wants me to do?”
I nod and give him another light tap. “And how many contacts do you have in your phone?”
His brows furrow, but he shakes his head again. “I don’t know. Ten?” He looks wary. “Is that too many? Should I not have added them? I’m sorry, Master.”
I swallow a sigh of annoyance. “Can you name them?”
“You, Havoc, Vortex… Lori, and um, Georgie, Della, Connie… and Linda, and Trent.” His bottom lip wibbles. “Am I talking to them too much?”
He still doesn’t understand, and it makes the frustration well up in me all over again.
“Do you like talking to them?” I use the cane to tap the side of his jaw. “Be honest. I’ll know if you’re lying.”
Seven nods. “Most of them,” he says quietly.
“And if I made you stop, would you still like me?” I give him a sardonic smile. “Don’t say the first thing you want to say. Think about it. Be truthful. And if you think you know what I want to hear, you’re probably wrong.”
His confusion is palpable, but he takes the time to think about it before replying slowly, “I would. I… wouldn’t be happy about it, but I wouldn’t like you any less?”
If he truly believes that, it breaks my heart all over again.
“I would hate it if somebody attempted to tell me who to talk to,” I say bluntly. “And if anybody tried to make you exist in a fucking small space again, twenty-one by twenty-one, no human contact at all, I would want to murder them.”
Seven swallows hard. “I couldn’t hate you. I don’t know. It would make me sad. I wouldn’t understand because you’re not…” He pauses, then says more slowly, “You’re not like that.”
“Since you know I’m not like that , why do you think I don’t want you to be smart? Why do you think I want you to be a ‘stupid whore’?” I lay the cane across his chest. “How many times do I have to tell you, to show you, that you’re more than that?”
Tears start to trickle from his eyes again.
“I don’t know,” he whispers. “I keep expecting everything to change. I keep wondering if Emily really is right. I keep thinking about what she always told me. And I don’t understand why you’re different, and it doesn’t make sense, and it’s so hard, Master. ”
“People are cruel,” I say sharply. “The world is cruel, Seven. You’ve experienced it more than most, and I’m not free of sin.
Havoc and Vortex are well acquainted with it too.
But there are people like Lori and Connie and most of the staff here who don’t believe the world is inherently cruel.
They’re kind to each other. And that’s the world you deserve, Seven. That’s the world I want to give you.”
“But I don’t deserve it,” Seven says, his voice cracking. For the first time, he sounds uncertain, not so sure that he’s right.
Maybe I’m finally starting to get through to him.
“You do.” I pick up the cane again. “Do you want pain now? Tell me honestly. I won’t cane you if you don’t want it.”
Seven pauses, and I’m inordinately grateful that he’s actually thinking instead of simply reacting with what he thinks I want to hear. In the end, he nods. “Please,” he says. “I want it, Master.” He gives me a pleading look. “Will you hold me after?”
“I will,” I promise. I take a step away. “Get on your stomach. And tell me something you enjoy doing at work.”
He has enough slack in the bonds to be able to roll onto his stomach, and I see him breathing deeply in and out as he lifts his ass into the air. It takes him longer to reply verbally. “I like listening to Georgie sing to herself when she thinks no one’s paying attention.”
I bring the cane down on his ass, not hard enough to leave a mark, but Seven’s body tenses all the same.
“Good. Tell me a nice thing somebody at work said about you.” I ready myself to deliver another blow.
Another moment of silence, longer this time. “I don’t—” he begins, but he cuts himself off. “That I do a good job remembering what people like.”
I cane him again, above where I’d hit previously. Seven lets out a soft gasp, but he settles back into the bed easily.
“Good. Now tell me about a task you’ve completed that you’re proud of.”
This answer comes more quickly. “I put rhinestones on Della’s outfit and they didn’t look like they were just hot glued on even though they were.”
Seven had shown me a picture of that dress, so I’d known about it, but I’m glad he remembers it too. I bring the cane down again, harder than before, making him gasp. “Wonderful. Now tell me about something you said that made Lori laugh.”
His voice is unsteady as he replies, “I don’t know? She laughs a lot.”
I chuckle. “She does. Do you think she’d laugh if she didn’t like talking to you?”
There’s another hesitation, then he shakes his head. “Probably not. She doesn’t laugh when she can tell I’m sad.”
I doubt he lets her see that often. “Lori adores you,” I say, as I cane the tops of his thighs. “Now, tell me something you like about yourself.”
That makes him go utterly still, utterly silent . It lingers in the air, but he finally says, “I like that I can make you happy. You… You’re different now.”
I lower the cane. “Tell me something you like about yourself, that has nothing to do with making other people happy.”
He squirms. “I don’t know, Master. I guess I learn pretty fast, when I’m trying to figure something out? That’s what Georgie says, anyway.”
I reward him with another stroke of the cane, and he gasps beautifully.
“If you want more pain, you have to tell me more nice things about yourself,” I say. “Let’s say… five. And after that, I’ll give you the strokes for free.”
He looks over his shoulder, his eyes wide, and he whimpers. “That’s so many,” he says. I’m relieved to hear that he sounds more like himself when he goes on to whine, “I don’t know that many good things about myself… yet? I’m… I’m trying to learn. Do I get credit for that, Master? Please?”
I think about it, but I decide to go easy on him, so I bring the cane down on his ass again. “One. Four more to go, Seven.”
“I saved Nacho,” he says uncertainly. “I’m… a good cat dad to Nacho.”
“You are.” I smile and cane his ass again, only millimeters away from the previous blow. Seven cries out and arches into it. “When you aren’t here, Nacho sometimes wanders the rooms looking for you.”
“I don’t think I can come up with three more,” he confesses. “I’m sorry, Master.” He glances over his shoulder at me again. “Can you tell me five nice things about yourself like that?”
I laugh and consider my answer. “I’m an excellent businessman.
I have a good sense of style. I like to think I’m a good boss.
I’m confident. I’ll also consider myself shrewd or clever.
I think that’s five? They’re rudimentary and other people are free to disagree, but those are things I consider good about myself.
” I ruffle his hair. “If others don’t like my confidence or ruthless business tactics… I don’t give a fuck what they think.”
“That’s not even fair,” he complains. “You make it sound so easy.” His voice gets quieter again, more serious, as he continues, “I don’t think I know myself enough to say those things, Master. I don’t know who I am.”
I step back again. “Then give me one more. One thing that makes you feel good about you.”
He bows his head so I can’t see his face. “I did it,” he whispers. “I ran away. I protected myself. I’d… I’d protect myself again.”
My entire body freezes, and I have to swallow several times before I can answer, “Yes. That’s everything, Seven. You did so, so good.” I raise the cane. “How many more do you want, Seven? I’ll give you all of them.”
He shivers, and I’m equally grateful when he doesn’t immediately respond. “Ten,” he decides. “I think I want ten.”
“Ten, then.” I start with one more soft blow before I increase the speed of my swings. I make sure not to hit any spot twice, and Seven groans appreciatively after every single stripe on his ass and thighs.
On the ninth, Seven is sweating and shaking, but he lifts his ass up for the final blow.
He’s so beautiful in his submission and neediness.
There’s no doubt in my mind right now that he wants this.
Abigail Lockwood never made Seven feel good with the pain. She never gave him this catharsis.
I deliver the final blow, and Seven cries out. I drop the cane onto the floor and go over to him, kissing his flushed cheek while I fumble to undo the manacles around his wrists.
“Good,” I whisper. “My beautiful pet. You were lovely, Seven.”
He reaches out to me, and I go to him, pulling him into my arms.
“You’re not angry at me anymore?” he whispers back, his words slurred.
“I wasn’t angry at you,” I say, kissing his jaw. “But I want you to be comfortable with me. I want you to trust me enough to want things for yourself. I won’t get mad if you tell me you want to learn or work more or try something new.”
Seven rests his head against me as he snuggles in close. “Mm’kay,” he murmurs, yawning widely. “Master?”
“Yes, pet?” I reach for the blankets so we can settle in for a nap.
“Thank you.”
The fact that those simple words can affect me so much is proof of how invested I am. I kiss the top of his head again.
After several soft moments of silence, I add, “When I fuck you—when Vortex or Havoc fuck you—we all want you to enjoy it. You know that, right? It’s not a transaction.”
He pulls back enough to blink up at me. He nods, and even though he doesn’t say it out loud, I think he believes it.
I kiss him gently on the lips, enjoying being close to Seven for its own sake.
If I could, I would stay in this moment forever.
Once the Lockwoods are gone, maybe I can.