SEVEN
Colton laid me in a warm lavender-scented bath and he lovingly bathed me with the loofah he loved using on me so much. We had had dinner at his parents' home this afternoon. I like them very much and they love me like their own son.. They were overjoyed when we got married. They had wanted to throw a big party for all our friends. Colton had to be careful not to crush them when he talked them out of it. The problem is that although they had no trouble with their son marrying a fellow—especially since they thought I was the epitome of adorable yet still painstakingly polite. (Of course they didn't know what would happen to my ass when Master got me back home if I had misbehaved!)
The problem was that all our friends, and there were many, were mostly all bdsm folk. Colton would never want to ask them to "tone things down" at what should have been a great celebration, not only of our marriage, but of the way it bonded us even more decisively as Master and slave for life. We only had the briefest of "weddings" at the county clerk's office. My mother was there along with Colton's parents and—now get how sweet this is--Colton surprised me by inviting my two best chums from college to be there as well. Now mind you, none of them knew about the cage between my legs and that my nipples and ass were both very sore under my clothes. And of course, none of our guests had ever seen me in my leather-and-diamond collar.
I loved it when we spent time with Colton's parents. It is there that I most surely felt loved and cherished. All three of the Finnegans adored me. Colton's mom told me one day when I was helping her in the kitchen that what she loved the most about me was how I had conquered Colton's heart.
She'd always feared, she confessed, that Colton's wild side would end up leading him astray. Whenever she looked at her son when he was looking at me assured her that he had found what he needed to keep him steady, happy, and productive. Because of me, she told me, she no longer ever worried about what would happen to him. She knew I kept him grounded. She knew he worshipped me. Little did she know why he worshipped me—that he could exercise his wild side with me.
Needless to say the collars were left at home—both the leather one and the chain one that he usually had me wear 24/7 because it could pass as a rather striking piece of jewelry. I really felt naked without either one of them. That's why he caned my ass before we left for the little ceremony. A constant reminder. Funny, though: the only time Colton ever took a cane to me was right before we left to go to his parents' place. Little did they know that the shine in my eyes Mama (that's what I called her) loved to see was because I was on the verge of tears—in a good way, of course.
Dinner was wonderful. It always was, and Mama treated me like the precious younger son she had never been able to bear. Meanwhile, I ate it all up. Every smile, every caress, every word of praise. I needed it so badly. My own mother was always on the edge with me, wanting to keep loving me even though she didn't understand what she called my "life choices," or why I would make such choices despite all the things I'd heard about the fate of homosexuals in her Evangelical church that she dragged me to whenever she could.
Colton she tolerated. I'm sure she believed he was doing the devil's work by emotionally manipulating me into something that I didn't fully understand. She was coldly polite to him. Once in a great while she found out something wonderful he had done for me and she even grudgingly thanked him once. But let's face it. We knew the score.
The day we got married, she put on a good face in front of the assembled relatives and guests. I always wished that Mama could be a good influence on her, but how could she compete with Pastor Matthews? After all, he had God on his side, or so he believed. Enough about that.
No, I wasn't a masochist because I believed I had to be punished. Well, yes, I did believe I had to be punished, but not for any reason I would find tucked between the pages of The Pilgrim's Hymnal. I just had to be punished. Period. Over the five years that we've been together, I never once begged Colton to thrash me as much as I would have liked to. I was determined even long before I met Colton that I would never be the type of sub who tried to control things from the bottom. And I never did.
Oh, it felt so good, Colton asking me to turn over and raise my bottom so he could take the dark loofah, soap it up and run it up and down the crack of my ass! Every inch of me felt his love. And you know what? I think that the way Mama looks at me and treats me when we're with her inspired Colton to want to make sure he loves me even more than she does. And Colton's Dad? He loves his wife as much as Colton loves me and because of that he loves me because I'm completely smitten with his son he has such pride in. It's a nice place to be.
My parents are divorced. Dad just couldn't put up with the holy roller shit she was getting increasingly more involved in. I haven't seen Dad since they got divorced. I don't really know where he is. When he quit my mother he quit me as well. Maybe that's why sometimes I want to call Colton "Daddy," and why Colton is okay with it.
Colton had a big fluffy unbelievably smooth bath towel he would wrap me in after my bath. The towel was heated. Are you surprised? And so while he was fluffing up my hair and patting me dry all over the place he was speaking to me. "I found the time to read the chapter you wrote last night. You've done a wonderful job, baby. You were able to enter right back into the space of that dream and simply let things arise. There is absolutely nothing about your narrative that seem contrived. In fact, I found myself thinking at one point that I wanted to make sure you weren't in too much pain. Your story drew me in so deeply that I forgot it was only just a fantasy."
"Master, are you sure it's only a fantasy?" I chided, and this started him giggling then kissing me right on top of my eyes—which always made me sneeze for some strange reason. Then he was down on the bathroom floor drying my legs and using special towelettes to make sure I was completely dry between my toes. "I have an idea, Dante. I want to write the next chapter. I want to pick up the story from Brock's point of view. Give me a couple days and I'll come up with something." Damn! I was delighted! I never could tell the story from a Dom's point of view. There isn't even a tiny trace of Dom in me.
"I can't wait to find out what's going through Brock's mind, Sir," I told him as he picked me up in his strong arms and carried me and the towel to the bed, put my collars back on, laid beside me and started toying with my nipples.
"How sore, sweet boy?" he asked.
"Only 3, Daddy. Take them. They belong to you." I kissed his wrist as he reached to take my nipple between his finger with me hoping he would make me cry so I could cry myself to sleep with my face buried in his armpit.
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN
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Here's a list of the other stories I've posted to Nifty. The dates are where you can find them. You can find them more easily by going to the "Prolific Authors" page. I'm listed there.
Rob
- The Alex Chronicles 9/25/2022
These four are connected:
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Sweet Subjugation 1/15/2023
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Brandon's Bosses 4/3/2023
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Brandon's Brothers 5/29/2023
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Total Subjugation: 5/25/2023
These are stand-alone stories:
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Tommy Loves His Sub 8/17/2023
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Training Toby 12/31/2023
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Breaking Me In 3/10/2024
-
The Brothel Slave 3/31/2024
-
Jonah Takes Charge 5/9/2024
-
A Tale of Two Subs 6/30/2024