No Refunds, part 3
Previous - this entry written on February 20, 2008 at 9:54 pm - Next
The next two hours passed rather swiftly; I spent most of the time away from the two of them, bringing in Kieran's luggage from his car and carting it up to the largest guest bedroom, packing Sarah a lunch to take with her and preparing one for Kieran to be served here, making a fresh pitcher of iced tea, and carrying more luggage, Sarah's bags taken out to the car she planned to drive and a few presents for friends packed as well. Roughly five minutes before she needed to leave, I was summoned back into the library by the faint chiming of the little trinket attached to my collar.
Sarah had given me my bell after the first two weeks of training, when I was first allowed to roam the House freely and was no longer chained into the cage beside her bed each night. I still slept there most nights and spent much of my days sitting near her, waiting for any command she might wish to give me, but occasionally I would simply wander through the various rooms and gardens. My favorite little den was in the garden at the center of the House, a tiny nook hidden behind several large flowering shrubs. There was a patch of soft moss, a tiny brook, and a scattering of wild strawberries that left the air sweet and fragrant even when there was no fruit to be seen. Often I would settle myself on the mossy bed and catnap, savoring the peaceful moments.
Inevitably, my rest was ended by the soft chimes from my bell. It was actually closer to a pager, designed to look like an old-fashioned brass and enamel bell like the ones that might be found on cat collars. My Mistress could either press the button on the slender wand of a remote that she usually carried in her pocket, or dial the pager number from any phone she happened to be near. When it started to ring I knew I was commanded to return, and that if I was in the same building as she was, I had ten run-throughs of its' little pattern before I would be disciplined for arriving late.
I made it back this time with five rings to spare, padding into the library and sinking swiftly into nadu, kneeling with my legs spread wide, ass resting on my heels, back arched, head raised proudly while my gaze remained politely downward, and hands resting palm-up on my thighs. I'd glanced at a clock as I ran for the library and knew Sarah would be on her way out the door, so instead of kneeling at her feet as was my usual position, I took up my pose beside Kieran's chair, facing my already-standing Owner.
"Looks like he's already pretty comfortable with me," laughed Kieran, ruffling my hair. My eyes closed and I leaned into the caress, murring affectionately.
"That's a good sign; just remember, I want him intact. No blood, no serious damage, no scars." Her voice was matter-of-fact, enough so that I felt another needle of ice dart up along my spine. The few times I'd been around Kieran before Sarah staked a claim on me, he'd seemed civil, not quite vanilla but certainly not too kinky and not a sadist at all, and pretty straight. I kept my eyes closed, trying not to let any of my dismay show on my face.
"Now you're just trying to scare him, hon. You'd better get going or you'll get there too late for dinner."
"Yeah, yeah. Stand up, boy." Her last words were clearly directed at me and I leaped to my feet, wrists crossed swiftly behind my back, watching her hands to make sure I didn't miss a non-verbal command. There was nothing, just a hug as she stepped close, a whispered order to 'be a good boy', and then she left the room. I didn't move until I heard the front door open and close.
As the distant click and rattle that hinted that the door had been locked from the outside sounded, I half-turned, then sank back to my knees, a more traditional pose this time, legs together, crossed wrists stretched forward and raised, my head bowed low between my extended arms. This was the position I'd been trained to think of as Submission, offering myself and my services to whoever my wrists were presented to.
One hand wrapped around my wrists, strong fingers holding them tight against each other, pushing them down while his other hand caught my chin and lifted it. My head rose, tilted back... and a breathless few seconds later, my lips were bruised with a rough, almost careless kiss. I didn't even try to stop the gasp of shock and pain, flinching away, letting my body say what I wasn't quite brave enough to speak aloud to someone so clearly in a position of power. He seemed to understand and was unoffended, releasing me swiftly and sitting back in his chair.
"That answers that question, I guess. Sorry, some of her boys are pretty thoroughly bi, and I'd prefer not to be surprised by someone crawling into my bed unexpectedly. If I actually order one of her toys to stay out of my bed though, she'll get pissy, and it'll be all sorts of unpleasant drama. Easier to just see whether or not I'll need to lock my door when I sleep."
I must have looked pretty shocked, because he started chuckling, clearly amused.
"What, going to try to claim you hadn't considered it? I know what kind of programming she beats into the heads of pretty boys like you. Plus you're rather visibly reacting."
It was all I could do to keep from covering my half-hard cock, afraid to say anything and even more afraid to do anything that might be interpreted as refusing him; as it was, I'm sure my flushed cheeks and worried expression were answer enough. He managed to bite back the laughter and nodded with something approaching sympathy.
"It's ok, I promise. I'm not gonna hurt you, or fuck you, or do much of anything else. I'm just here to make sure the cats are fed and to keep her from handing over someone as new as you to Aletose."
"Wha... Aletose is real?" If I'd had cat ears, they'd have been flat against my head. Aletose was something she'd occasionally threatened me with, but I'd somehow gotten the impression that she wasn't real, a boogeyman conjured up to scare me.
"Real enough," he responded, his tone flattening. Obviously this wasn't a subject he wanted to talk about, so I changed the subject, looking at him somewhat hesitantly.
"So... can I go put my pants back on now?"
He laughed, gesturing expansively with a wave of his hand. "Pants, shirt, socks, hell, you could put on a chicken costume and a scuba mask for all I care. Look, if you'll grab me the occasional beer and deal with the catbox, I'll call it plenty. I'll even... exaggerate a bit... when she gets back, let her know that you were well-behaved."
I grinned back at him, bowing with a flourish before scampering out of the room to reclaim my jeans. Sarah kept the house warm and the sun was shining in the eastward windows, so I didn't bother with a shirt. Just knowing I could if I wanted to was, for the moment, enough.
The first night was wonderful, a perfect vacation. We watched a couple of action flicks, Kieran drinking beer and my own beverage a jack and coke. Dinner was pizza, delivery, neither of us bothering to clean up afterward. By the time I stumbled off to bed I was drunk enough that I just collapsed on Sarah's king-size bed, too out of it to care where I slept.
He'd insisted I get a couple glasses of water in me before bed, so when I woke up I didn't even have a hangover. Breakfast was more of a brunch, lunch a lazy affair that consisted mostly of cold pizza, and dinner a shared masterpiece involving steak, salmon, truffles, and some leftover ice cream scrounged from the freezer. That night I went to bed sober, and although the bed was tempting, I realized I felt more comfortable in the cage. After a few minutes tossing and turning in the bed I gave in and crawled sleepily back to my normal sleeping spot, nestled among the blankets, my back pressed against the bars.
The third day we expected Sarah to return before lunch; a late-morning phone call informed us otherwise. Something had come up, and she would be staying a few more days. Kieran made some comment about me getting an extra-long break and I managed a laugh, but shortly excused myself and walked back to her room, claiming a headache.
I curled up in the cage, head resting on a folded blanket, the others drawn up snug around me. After only a few minutes I kicked them off and sat up, squirming out of the pants and shirt I had been wearing and tossing the clothing out of the cage. When I laid back down I first neatly folded and spread the blankets on the floor of the cage, then settled atop them, not trying to cover myself, laying as I knew she preferred. Vulnerable, shivering a bit, I stared up at the empty bed. When I next glanced at the bedside clock I realized nearly an hour had passed, and that my cheeks and the blanket being used as a pillow were both wet with tears.
I rubbed my eyes angrily, turning over abruptly and shaking my head, trying to put a stop to the irrational flood of emotions. So she was gone for a few days, so what? I should be happy to get such a long vacation. There was no reason to feel this... this lonely.
The moment I'd recognized what the feeling was I buried my head under the blankets, trembling. I hadn't thought she - or anyone - could matter this much to me. I certainly hadn't expected to miss her so much. It felt like I'd been abandoned, and there was a nasty suspicion in the back of my mind that she wouldn't be coming back, that she had decided I was too much trouble, that I wasn't good enough... that she was dropping me... that she didn't want me any more.
Keiran came in three times to check on me; I feigned sleep, once even managing a few passable snores. The last time he just turned off the light and murmured a good night, leaving the door open a crack when he was gone. I wriggled around in the cage, staring at the slit of light for a long time.
He wasn't interested in me, he wasn't interested in me, we were just friends. I kept chanting that under my breath as I crept out of the cage and down the hall to the room he was staying in.
When I got there, his door was half-open, his light off, the sound of deep breathing from the bed the only noise. I poked my head in; no change in his breathing, he was likely asleep. Silently I slipped in the rest of the way, padding on all fours to the thick rug at the side of the bed and settling down quietly. I finished adjusting my position and pillowed my head with my arms, peering up at the bed, taking comfort from the knowledge that I wasn't alone...
...and nearly gasping when I realized that he was half-raised, braced on one arm, the other having somehow drawn back the covers without making any sound to alert me to the fact that he was awake. He gave me the strangest look, a complex mix of emotions, among them something that I could only interpret as disappointment. I flinched, ducking my head, and started to crawl back to the empty cage.
"Wait. Boy... wait. It's ok."
I looked up, fearing to see pity or worse, disgust. Instead I saw a deep sadness, something I didn't understand. He continued speaking, quiet, his voice soothing.
"I understand. You miss her. You need her, and if you can't be near her, can't be her slave, you have to belong to somebody. Being alone hurts too much."
I was wide-eyed by the time he'd said that much, nodding tentatively, my own voice barely a whisper.
"I... I know you don't want me like that, a..and that's fine... I just... please, may I sleep on the floor in here tonight? I promise I won't make a sound, I'll be good..." I trailed off, embarrassed by the naked hope in my voice. He smiled, patting the bed.
"It's ok, boy. Come on, this is big enough for two. I've been where you are, I know you'll feel better if you're actually up here next to someone. Just promise not to rape me or anything, k?"
The last line managed to make me giggle - I couldn't even manage to keep from trembling, I sure as hell wasn't much of a threat to anyone stronger and more alert than a soggy dust bunny. He was right, too; all I wanted right then was to cling to someone, it didn't matter who, I just needed to know that I wasn't alone. With somewhat embarrassing swiftness I climbed up into the bed, sliding my naked body between the crisp linen sheets and settling with my back to him, not brave enough to scoot any closer.
A gentle arm circled my waist, drawing me back firmly against him. He was warm, relaxed, not a trace of anything sexual in the gesture, just reassurance. With a blissful sigh I let myself relax in turn, spine against his chest, hips spooned against hips, my head half-resting on the arm he'd left laying along the bed. It wasn't more than five minutes before I was sound asleep.
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