The following story is a work of complete fiction, dreamed up in my own twisted little mind. I invented Lance and Sebastian, and any resemblance they might have to real people is purely coincidental. If you're uncomfortable with themes of consensual, loving bondage, domination/submission, or slavery and training between two young men, please stop reading here. Everyone else, enjoy!
It's been over a year since I updated "Sebastian", and I apologize to all the amazing readers out there who were enjoying the story. Writer's block knows no Master! I've gained some experience myself in the BDSM world in the intervening time, so there might be some slight changes in tone. Lance and Sebastian hopefully remain their same selves, though.
Comments are welcomed, adored, and lovingly petted at bondedboy13@yahoo.com (I had to take the bit about spanking out, since I'm definitely the spank-ee these days, and never the spank-er. grin)
Part 15: Good
"No, no, see, if we change the bridge like so..." Sebastian was leaned over the staff paper intently, and I had to smile. He was completely focused on the music, and James and Adam were bracketing him on each side, nodding and then going back to play it again. I didn't have any trouble following the changes he'd made, and he was right, the bridge sounded much better the way he had it. "Yes!" Seb stood up and whooped after we cut off the last chord, "that one's ready for the studio!"
"For fuckin' sure," Adam agreed, a grin all over his face, and high-fived James and me and Seb before toasting us all with his beer. Seb toasted back, then drank the rest of his in long swallows.
"Right back," he said without so much as a glance in my direction, and headed out the door to the bathroom. I kept my face carefully blank, but made a little checkmark in my mind. That would be his third trip to the can of the day, and he knew he was supposed to signal need and then wait for my okay to go.
Adam was starting to pack up, still glowing from the successful songwriting session, and James was already on the phone to his ladyfriend. I set my guitar in its case, enjoying the chatter and the friends. Definitely one of the best parts of being in the band. By the time Sebastian came back, they were moving towards the door, and with hugs and promises to meet again soon, they were on their way. The house seemed very quiet when they were gone, and Seb sighed and leaned against the door. He hadn't slept well the night before, I knew.
"Baby, clothes," I reminded him softly, and he nodded quietly and stripped down until he was only wearing his everyday collar and his chastity belt. He'd only been allowed to remove it for supervised bathing since I'd taken him out of the diaper almost a week before. I made a slow circle around him, touching his shoulders and belly and checking under the straps of the belt for chafing or soreness. His skin was smooth and unmarred, and I smiled at him, getting a hesitant grin in return. "Okay, let's go."
"Where?" It was genuinely curious, not disrespectful, so I allowed it.
"Kitchen. Want to tell me what was so urgent you had to get up and leave the room so many times without my permission?" I made sure the question was gentle.
"I had to pee. Sir," he said, and there was a sullen undertone to his voice that I didn't like at all.
"Hmm." I checked the fridge, glad that I'd made the iced tea in anticipation of the guys coming: they'd preferred beer, so I had the whole pitcher left. "On your knees, Seb. Right here." He blinked at me, but went down fast. I poured a large glass of iced tea, carried it to his side, and forced his head back with one hand in his hair. "Open your mouth."
"Sir," he gasped, eyes huge and startled, and I shook him lightly.
"NOW." His jaw dropped on the sound of a whimper, and slowly but steadily I poured the tea down his wildly working throat. Then I got another glass, and repeated the process. By the time the third glass disappeared, there were tears in his eyes and he was trying to escape my hand.
"No," I told him quietly, twisting his ear until he winced and went still. "Bad boy. You stay there." I had to think hard while I was retrieving the other things I'd need. I had a feeling this disobedience might have been in some ways due to my own actions. Having the diaper on Sebastian had been oddly like potty-training an infant, only in reverse: every time I'd found his diaper used, I'd made a huge fuss over him, petting and praising and making much of him. By the end, he'd been approaching me once he'd released, hating the action but craving the praise and attention. This last week had been a busy one, with huge amounts of work and stress coming down on both of us. I didn't like the idea that I'd neglected him at all, but apart from our daily spankings, sex, and a couple of small scenes, neither of us had had a lot of extra energy for play. And he'd been almost preternaturally well-behaved since our visit from Ben, so really this was a much smaller rebellion than I'd been expecting.
Seb was pouting when I got back, but he hadn't moved. He did startle when I unlocked his belt, though, and gently pulled it off his body. "Cold," he gasped as the air hit his soft little cock, and he almost reached for it before remembering.
"I bet," I said, and rubbed a little at the damp skin under his balls, where he tended to get most irritated. It was almost time for him to shave again. "Okay, here's the rules. You know better than to disobey like you did today, just because there are people here. Answer me."
"Yes sir," he bit out, definitely not repentant yet. Probably hoping for a time-out or a whipping.
"Since you're so incapable of controlling your bladder, we're going to work on that a bit." I made sure he could tell I wasn't really angry with him with my tone of voice. Still, he had to realize that deliberate disobedience wasn't a good way to ask for more attention. "Up on your feet, and spread them. Good. Now squat down, there, and put your palms on the ground by your feet. Get your butt down by the floor." With his feet spread, this position looked silly, and left his cock dangling free in the air, only inches from the floor. It twitched a little but stayed soft, as I think he started to get the idea. He looked at me, horrified. "You are not to move, Seb. And you'd better control yourself. If you pee, it'll be on the floor, and I think you know who'll be cleaning that up." I held his eyes with my own, stroked his hair, and went to take care of a few things, also grabbing a book to read.
He was stubbornly silent for the first forty-five minutes, though the occasional bored sigh was clearly meant to let me know what he thought of this punishment. Then the tea must have hit, because when I glanced over his face was twisted with discomfort. The position he was in put pressure on his bladder, I knew, and having the breeze on his bare skin was another provocation. I read another chapter of my book before deciding to up the pressure.
By the time I finished washing the dishes we'd used that day, I could hear Sebastian whimpering behind me. I kept my eyes out the window, looking at the late afternoon sun on the trees surrounding the house, and even hummed a little. Drying my hands slowly, but leaving a little water running from the tap for that rushing liquid sound, I finally turned to him. His lip was raw and red where he'd bitten it, and his face was flushed.
"How are you feeling, Seb?"
"Hurts, sir," he said immediately, all the sullenness gone from his voice. "And my feet are falling asleep."
"Stand up, stretch, two minutes," I told him, and he breathed out in relief, standing carefully and wincing. "Pay attention, now. Using the toilet is a privilege for you, not a right." I got all his attention then, and a tiny nod. "Remember what I said a while ago? I say what goes into that body and when it gets to come out. You're mine, and I make those decisions." I stroked his belly and hip lightly, keeping his focus on me. "You're going to get back down now. If you can hold it for another hour and a half, I'll allow you to use the paper I've put down on the porch for the rest of today." I kept on relentlessly over his gasp. "If you can't hold it, if you pee on this nice clean floor, you'll be on potty restriction. One visit a day, no matter what, for the next three days, and you will eat and drink normally." I held his eyes with mine. "Do you understand?"
"Yes." It was torn out of him. He was clearly regretting his disobedience, and looking a little desperate, and I smiled. "Yes, sir," he amended, and I patted him as a reward, before starting to rub his belly lightly.
"You won't be forgetting to ask permission before you use the bathroom again, will you?"
"No sir," he said, resigned, and I pressed him back down to the floor.
By the time the hour and a half was almost up, he was blinking rapidly and hissing his breath through his teeth. He also kept shifting his weight back and forth, then freezing still, as if that would help him. Poor kid, he was clearly in agony, and not just physical: would he go on the floor, or try hold it in for his pride but be paper-trained like a puppy? It was purely mind over matter, at this point, and I knew he could hold it in if he truly wanted to.
"Seb, baby," I crouched and made him look at me again. "It's okay, either way. I won't be angry. There will just be consequences, and you need to decide which ones you want. I only offer two because I know they'll both be good for you." I took his cock, slightly plump with his need to urinate, and played with it idly, tugging for the draw I knew it put on his bladder. He whined, and squirmed, though he knew better than to try to pull away.
"I'll make it," he gasped, and nodded firmly, and I glanced at my watch and smiled. Watched the second hand tick around, and listened to his labored breathing.
"Brave boy. Time's up. Now crawl out to the porch, use the paper there. Come on." I snapped the leash I'd held in my pocket to his collar, and gave a little tug. He heeled instantly, movement making him moan in pain, and crawled after me out the sliding glass doors onto our screened porch. "No standing. You abused your toilet privilege, you squat right there."
"Yes sir," he whimpered, and scrambled into position on the paper, the air leaving his lungs in a great gust as he started spurting instantly. He splashed his feet a little and cringed, but there was no stopping that flow, even with his cheeks scarlet as I watched clinically as he relieved himself.
"Okay, honey," I said quietly, when he'd finished and just sat there, completely humiliated. "Come on." I led him back into the house, and it was one very embarrassed and contrite boy who heeled again on our way in. I gave him baby wipes to clean himself with, and then fastened him gently back into his belt. "Clean up your paper and put down fresh. Then I want you to clean our play room, and make sure your bed and mine are made and have fresh sheets, okay?" I pulled him close, and kissed him, feeling him melt.
"Sir," he sighed, slipping to his knees and pressing his face into my abdomen as I stroked his hair. "Why's it so HARD to be good?"
I had to laugh a little at that. "I dunno, Seb, but if it wasn't think how much less interesting our lives would be." He huffed a little chuckle against me. "How about we have tomorrow as just an 'us' day. Things have been so crazy lately, and I miss having my boy all to myself."
He lifted a shining face and looked up at me. "Really? Just us, doing stuff?"
"Yep. We can play all day. No work besides your chores, no talking about outside things. Just you and me and lots of nakedness." I grinned down at him and tugged his hair gently. "You've been an incredibly good boy lately, even with these little slips, and I think we can both use some fun."
"Oh, YES." He was grinning now, and jumped up to accomplish the tasks I'd set him. The face he made when clearing away the sodden newspaper was priceless. He'd always been fastidious, which certainly made punishing him a little easier for me. Anything that got his hands dirty was effective in training and behavior modification. Anything that involved nakedness, Sebastian getting his butt tanned, or sex, was not. Right around that time was when Seb's punishments started veering away from the corporal sort, at least for a while.
I could hear him humming and singing as he made the beds upstairs, and I finished wrapping the snacks from having the guys over, smiling to hear his voice. He was so much more cheerful these days, even when he was feeling unfairly used or put-upon. There was a lightheartedness to him now that made my heart swell, and made me pause for a moment and give general thanks to the cosmos for sending me such an amazing boy.
By the time I got upstairs and stripped down, he'd just finished wiping down the playroom, ridding it of any dust. I nodded my approval and indicated that I wanted him to come to me and kneel.
"What do you think we should do today, Seb?" I'd never really asked his opinion, and though I knew very well what activities he preferred, I was interested in hearing his response. Whether he would instantly choose his own favorite, or take other things into account. He cocked his head, very cheeky, and pondered.
"Am I being punished?"
"Have you done anything to earn it?"
"No. Well, but I was already punished for that."
I nodded. "That punishment is over, and you know better now. I'm sure using the paper for the rest of the day will be enough of a reminder." I grinned at the face he made.
"Well, then, this is all about making us happy, it should be what we want, right? My favorite thing, if I get to choose."
"If that's what you think this is about," I nodded, and watched him blink as that sank in.
"Oh." He sighed, finally. "Then, then it should be what you want, sir." Slowly, that proud head bowed down, and he opened his hands, palm-up, on his thighs. "I think we should do whatever you choose, today. All days."
I could have kissed him right then and there, but I restrained myself to a proud smile and a thumb-stroke along his jaw. "Good boy," I said quietly, and he quivered a little. It hadn't been easy for him to say that, I knew. Not when he'd been offered his first chance to express an opinion about how we would play. "Go get me the big plug, baby. And the strap, and the crop. Then bend over the bench." He sucked in a stuttering breath, but scurried away to do as I told him. Laid the toys at my feet, and then bent over the bench, ass high in the air, bisected neatly by the strap of his belt.
"Lovely. You are beautiful." I let my voice show all the love I was feeling for him, and he squirmed happily as I unsnapped the strap and bared his butt. He was tight again, since for convenience I'd left him unplugged these last days. He'd been dripping like a faucet with the pressure on his prostate, and I'd had no time to milk him, and no inclination to let him come. "Pretty boy," I crooned, and forced my thumb into his ass, slapping him sharply when he arched up with a cry. The hot silky muscle fluttered wildly around my thumb, and I smiled. "No lube today, I think," I told him quietly, and he moaned.
"Sir, please," his voice was high and breathy, "pleaseplease, use lube, it's been so long, please..."
"Absolutely not." I withdrew my thumb and came around to his head, stroking his hair and head and neck. "Give me your wrists, Seb." He held them out without protest, and I snapped the heavy leather cuffs on, fastening those to the bench in turn. With a short tether from his collar to another ring, he was trussed up tight, unable to do much more than squirm and kick. I trusted he knew better than to kick.
The plug was a large, heavy one, that we didn't use for every-day because it just wasn't practical. I pried his asshole open roughly with my fingers, first, ignoring Seb's instinctive recoil from the pain, and drinking in his hoarse grunts and squeals of pain as I placed the rounded tip of the plug against him and started screwing it in. It took some of my weight to get it past that tight muscle, but once the momentum started he sucked it in like it was coming home. The end was flared, large enough that when he spread for his whipping I could see it easily. Every blow that hit it would jolt directly against his prostate.
"How are you?" I ran a hand up his back, feeling the rigid muscles there as he fought his body. "Tell me, boy."
"O-okay, sir," he finally got out, his voice sounding very young. "It hurts, oh, it hurts so much, oh, I want to get hard. I want to come, I want to come, I, please, hurt me more, oh..." He sounded a little distracted, and I had to smile, even as I reached down between his legs and pressed the delicate skin of his perineum, forcing his prostate against the plug. The sound he made then was music to my ears. "Yes yes yes, like that," he begged, and I slapped his thigh sharply.
"You don't make demands here, baby," I reminded him, though of course it was a rule we both ignored when it came to his shameless begging. As long as he remembered that it was just that, begging.
"Please yes yes yes like that," he amended, and I laughed as I reached for the strap.
He wasn't being punished today. This was for my pleasure, and the joy he took in it, and his own sense of worth, and I started slowly. Light slaps with the strap, not deep or thudding, almost like a paddling. He made happy noises and relaxed as I turned his entire backside a lovely rosy pink. Slowly working up the intensity, every other stroke then landed hard enough to jolt him. The pink turned red, and he was gasping in time with my arm. I was hard as a rock and sweating, enjoying the exercise and the naked boy under my care, watching him slowly turn to liquid sex as I worked him over.
He didn't scream until I switched over to the crop. On the tender, reddened, hypersensitive skin of his ass, the sharper sting of the crop must have been complete agony. He tried to crawl off the bench, he arched away and twisted and begged in between the screams that jolted out of him when I hit him. Regular as clockwork, a pattern of white stripes on red from his tailbone to his sit-spot. But I stopped after hitting each spot once. This was fun, not pointed, and as I watched him relax and melt down onto the bench, I could almost see him thrumming with endorphins. When I turned his face to look at him, his eyes were dreamy and vague and his mouth was a little open. He looked like he'd overdosed on pleasure, and I took a moment to just pet his hair, kiss his mouth, bring him back to me a little.
"All right?" I said finally, smiling at him.
"Yessir," he answered quietly. "So good. Thank you, you're so good to me." His eyes flickered down to my cock, red and angry and dripping, and I could see the fear and the deep painful want there.
"You'll get it," I promised him. "It's all for you."
"Mmmm," his eyes went heavy again, and I didn't wait any longer. The plug came out in a wrench that rippled through his whole body, and in one long thrust I was inside him. Precum and possibly a little blood eased my way, and once again, I was shocked at how burning-hot his ass was. Made for me, made for this, and I put one hand on the back of his neck and used him exactly as I saw fit. Yanking his body back to meet my thrusts, pounding him until his insides were soft and slick and yielding. Perfect. When I came inside him, I didn't want to stop, and actually kept rocking into him long after the contractions had ended.
"Oh sir," his voice was a hoarse whisper. "Thank you. Oh sir." He was crying, I could tell, and I slowly stopped moving and kissed the tender nape of his neck. Sliding out and stepping away, I cleaned myself lightly, not talking to him but touching him often, stroking his back and ass and shoulder as his breathing slowed and he calmed. When I unlocked his bindings he simply held still for a long time, then slowly slid off the bench supported by my hands.
"How you feeling?" I stroked his hair, comforting myself as much as him after the intensity of what we'd both experienced.
"Horny," he sighed, nuzzling against my shoulder.
"Let's go take care of that, then." It was perfect timing. I'd come, and hard, and would be able to stay in firm control of myself. He was still shuddering with arousal, goosebumps coming and going on his skin. And we had the gathering at Ben's the day after next, and I wanted him empty.
"Really?" He looked up at me eagerly. "I almost don't remember what it feels like to come."
"Milking, sweetie," I told him quietly, and he choked out a little sob-laugh. "With your belt on," and he went limp and pliant and just sighed when I led him slowly to the bed in our room, warm and light and comfortable. I spread a towel for him and settled him on the bed, watching him as I positioned him how I wanted, curled half on his side and half on his belly, legs spread wide and one raised, completely open to me. He seemed almost sleepy, his legs and arms heavy and languid and slow, a long time between his blinks. He was deep into his own head, now, and I hummed to him softly as I slipped my fingers inside and went right for his prostate.
He grunted a little, one of those soft pleasure-sounds that I like so much, and I massaged him deeply and without any gentleness. His hips started jerking right away, his body reaching for the erection and the orgasm that it hadn't experienced in so long, but he stayed very quiet, watching me for a while before closing his eyes. He was so beautiful like this, in his suffering, body sweating lightly and cramping and twitching under my hand. It didn't take long this time, though he hadn't ever gotten hard: the buildup of semen in his healthy young balls must have been massive, and he'd just been whipped and fucked thoroughly. He made a sound that was very close to a scream, but quiet, and his head whipped back as he arched in agony, and I saw the milky fluid start to pour smoothly from the hole in his chastity belt. His body was fluttering wildly around my fingers, but no contractions of orgasm, and I watched fascinated as I pressed the rivers of semen out of him. It seemed to take hours, the feelings shuddering through him in waves, wracking him utterly as he moved helplessly on my hand.
He managed to open his eyes and give me a sleepy kiss and a "thank you" before falling down down down into exhausted sleep, but that was all. I smiled and cleaned him up, then pushed him over and slipped into bed at his side, holding him in my arms. He'd need a bath and lotion for his behind, but we could do that after a nap. After all, tomorrow was our day off.
Part 16: Public
Our day together was just the coolest thing ever. I was extra-sure to mind my manners, so we could just enjoy ourselves without Sir having to interrupt by correcting my behavior. I've started thinking of him as "Sir" in my mind, even when we're not together; it seems right to me, even though I know we can't really go all the way with it.
He's had me reading some websites and doing some research, and I realized just how relaxed my rules are compared to so many slaves. I can call him Lance sometimes, I don't have to beg permission to speak, I can use first-person pronouns, he tolerates a lot of backchat from me that a lot of masters wouldn't. It's good in one way, because in our life we're in the public eye a lot, and we have to be able to act totally normal a lot of the time. Also, I'd probably be standing in the corner FOREVER if he didn't. But in another way, I hope someday I can get to the place where I'll be quiet and attentive and obedient to him in all ways. It's definitely something to shoot for. I know sometimes I tire him out a little with all my bullcrap. He had to hit my bottom with the cane until I was crying before I could let myself poop on the paper before bed, the night before. I was so ashamed he'd had to do that.
We hung out on the couch together and watched some TV the morning after my milking. My penis had chafed a little in my belt, so I'd put on some lotion and was totally naked--no worries about getting hard after the night before. God, that's still just the strangest most neat thing, milking, so painful and so good all at once. But all I had on was my collar, and he put me on the floor on a cushion so I could rest my head on his leg. HE got to wear clothes, of course. There wasn't a whole lot on, but we watched some nature thing and some MTV, and then "Top Gun" came on. Sir loves that movie, even all edited for television, so I knew we'd be watching it for a while, even though I can't stand it. He grinned at me, that one that says "I know you're not happy but it doesn't matter even a little bit." That one always gives me a cool shiver. After a while, he tugged me around so I could put my face in his groin, because he knows how much I love that.
Maybe it's some animal thing, but I feel perfectly safe when I have my nose against his balls, breathing in his smell with his hand in my hair. I do it sometimes when I'm feeling really scared, but this time it was just for a nice long sniff and a fun part of our relaxing together.
"Sir," I asked quietly, during a commercial. "May I, could I be closer, down here?" I wanted to ask him if he'd take off his pants so I could get the full sense, but he just looked at me.
"Am I hard? Is this something you need, or something you just want?"
"Something I just want," I admitted, ashamed a little. He's just so wonderful, I want to be close all the time. "You're not hard, sir. It would just be for me."
"That's right. I've got my clothes on for a reason. Be satisfied with what you're given, boy."
"Yes sir," I said, internalizing that too. I put my head back and breathed deep and enjoyed him all around me.
When the movie was over, we had lunch, him at the table and me happily on the floor. I was getting to follow him all over today, like we were tied together, it was such a special treat. We talked about stuff, music and our friends, and I told him a funny story my brother had sent me on email about his gym class that had him hooting laughter. He let me put some shorts on when we worked out in the gym, and I got to keep them on when we went outside and washed the cars. He got me good with the hose, but I squeezed a sponge of water down his neck, and I didn't try very hard to get away when he chased me around the house after, tackling me and kissing me, biting my neck and mouth until I was moaning like the slut I am. I even got hard, then, and he slapped my penis sharply in warning. I couldn't put the belt back on until the redness went away, but he still wasn't gonna tolerate any action from down there, I knew.
He makes me really happy, Sir does.
"All right, kiddo," he hosed us both off after the cars were sparkling clean, and we ran inside, dripping. Then he hurt me some more, in the really good way that makes him feel good and makes me feel good too. He strapped me into the chair, and put sharp pinchy clamps on my balls and on my penis and opened me up with the speculum and didn't let me scream, either. I could feel the feelings building and building and building inside me, and I got so incredibly hard I was shaking like I'd fall apart. But the second he took out the speculum and put his beautiful, perfect penis in me, I relaxed. Sir was taking his pleasure and he was hurting me and I could feel the bad stuff, the anger and confusion inside me get smaller and smaller as he fucked me, until the endorphins took over and I just flew.
It took a while to come back, but Sir was kind and gentle afterwards like he always is, and let me cuddle up in my bed and suck on a small dildo that's become one of my comfort-toys lately. He says it's better than my thumb, which I'm not supposed to suck anymore because I'm not a baby, even when I feel all young and new and little in my mind. Still, sucking on something calms me right down, and by the time he let me out of my bed I was fine again.
He set me on my knees on the floor, comfortable enough. And he'd gotten dressed again. Something about being completely naked for him, when he's in all his clothes, gives me a great feeling. I feel really owned then. He sat in his chair and smiled at me, and I smiled back.
"So, tomorrow. Ben's party." And I snapped to attention right quick, I'll tell you that! "It'll be a whole bunch of people he knows, and I think it will be good for us to meet some more people who are living like we do. What do you think?"
I was torn. I wanted to meet other people, yes, but I was possessive of Lance. I didn't want to share him at all. And what if they recognized us as rock stars and our secret got out?
"Is it a party-party?" I asked cautiously. "I mean, we'll just be going and having drinks and food and meeting people?"
"Exactly like that," he nodded. "The only difference is, you'll be wearing your belt and collar and cuffs and nothing else. And I'll be keeping you on a leash."
I sucked in a breath, worried. "What if I misbehave? What if I make you ashamed of me?"
"You won't." His voice was certain and sure and I relaxed a little, grinning at him.
"What if some sicko comes on to me and I punch `em?"
He snorted and shook his head. "For one thing, no one will touch you without asking my permission. That's why I'm keeping you collared and leashed. For another thing, anyone who does something unwanted will be dealing with me, not you. YOU will sit still, be quiet, and be a good boy."
"Okay," I sighed. I would try. I was getting much better with Lance, but I wasn't so sure about strangers who pissed me off.
"Sebastian," he said sternly, and I snapped up to attention again. "I'll have your promise on this, please."
"I promise, sir," I said, nodding. He cocked his head and looked at me closely.
"I think maybe a gag would be a good idea."
My spanking the morning of the party was really nasty and brutally hard, with the hairbrush, and with me locked back into my belt. I knew it was a warning, but the cold way he was holding my head down and not petting me at all was shocking first thing in the morning. He wanted me awake and he wanted me in no doubt of where I stood in this relationship. Twenty strokes with the brush, no warm-up or hesitation, and oh god it hurt on my still-sore bottom. He dumped me off his lap right after, sobbing and shaking like a bitch, and then yanked me to my knees by my hair and fucked my face hard and fast until I almost couldn't breathe. When he came I managed to swallow it all, and he tipped his face up to meet his eyes. I could see love there, but also a great sternness, and I shook even harder.
"Today will be our first public outing together like this," he told me, his first words to me since he'd dragged me from my bed ten minutes after I should have been awake. "You mind your place, Sebastian."
"Y-yes s-sir," I got out between sobs, and he stroked my face.
"I don't want you to be too scared. I know some things will be hard, and I will be there to help you. I'll never leave you. But you have to step up, here. I want you to be very aware of what you do and say and how people are seeing you."
"Yes sir," I swore more calmly, feeling resolved that he would find no fault with me this afternoon.
We showered together in quiet, though it wasn't uncomfortable. He even hummed to me a little as he shaved me carefully, putting me down to spread so he could get every last nook and cranny. He had me do my underarms, and the little patch of hair on my chest, and then my whole legs. I didn't have any hair left that wasn't my eyebrows or on my head, when we were done. And he pulled my wet hair back and bound it severely behind my head in a rubber band, all the time keeping his hands on me in a way that made me feel owned and protected and cherished.
Once I was back in my belt, he held me at arms' length and grinned at me. "Gorgeous," he said, and I could feel myself flush with pleasure.
"Thank you, sir. Should I help you, now?"
"Nope. You go do your chores. Lay out some clothes for yourself that you can wear on the way to the party. And Seb, we might play a little while we're there. Make sure they're loose." He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes slightly before going to get my chores done.
Sir didn't wear leather or anything obvious to the party, but he looked HOT. He had on tight black pants, Armani I think, and a snug knit forest-green shirt. It had a lower neckline, so I could see his strong neck and a little of his collarbones. I just wanted to lick him up. Me, it didn't matter so much what I was wearing, but I did have on my shiny dress cuffs and collar, my belt was clean and shined, and I was plugged up tight, giving me that full squirmy feeling.
"All right." We pulled up in the car and got our first look at Ben's home. It was set off the road a little, with a long circular drive. It wasn't huge, but good-sized, and the lights were all on. It looked welcoming in the late afternoon light...it would be dark before too long, but for now it was still easy to see. There was a little sign at the top of the drive: "to unload your naked slave, please drive around back." Sir snickered.
"All right, strip here. Let me get a look at you." He inspected me one last time once I'd squirmed out of my pants and turtleneck, checking my teeth and running a hand over my body. "Good. You remember your rules?"
"Yes sir." I smiled at him, and he leaned in and kissed me.
"Excited?"
"Oh, yes sir." He was grinning as he snapped my lead to my collar, and I fell into step behind his shoulder as we made our way to the door. Corey was opening it before we even got to ring the bell, wearing nothing but a silver cock ring and a matching silver collar.
"Sir," he knelt gracefully, pressed his forehead to Lance's boot, and rose. "This boy welcomes you to his master's home." I couldn't help raising my eyebrows. Show-offy little slut. I still didn't like the way he looked at Lance.
"It's wonderful to see you, Corey," Lance said warmly, leading me in as we followed Corey through the entryway. It was strange, because we entered a room full of people with drinks in their hands, chatting and smiling and behaving like any other party, but they were all men, and almost everyone had a naked slave in attendance, either kneeling or standing nearby. I felt my eyes get wide as I stared around, taking it all in.
"Lance! Sebastian!" Ben broke away from the group he was speaking with, and shook Lance's hand in welcome, nodding to me as well. "I'm so glad you could make it. Any trouble finding the place?"
"Your directions were perfect," Lance smiled, "and there was no mistaking the house, not with that sign outside."
"Wouldn't do to shock the neighbors TOO much," Ben laughed, and led us through some introductions.
It was really weird for me. I'm used to meeting new people: every time we're at an awards show or concert or event, I have to meet a ton of people and make a great impression. But then I've got to impress them, be outgoing and loud and charming and funny. Here, I wasn't supposed to talk at all unless someone spoke to me--I knew Sir had a small ball gag in his pocket, in case I got at all mouthy. So it kind of paralyzed me. I didn't know how to talk to these people, if I was supposed to chat with the other slaves or wait till I had permission. Sir had told me I could, but what about them? For once in my life, I figured I couldn't go wrong by doing less, so I just pressed myself to Sir's shoulder and kept quiet. At least the house was warm, and the carpet of the room soft on my bare feet. I rubbed it with my toes and wished I was wearing pants.
"Sebastian," Lance said softly, and I snapped to attention. "I'd like a glass of wine. The merlot that Ben was just describing, please." He tilted his head to the sideboard.
"I'm sorry, sir," I whispered, "I don't know which one he was describing." My face went red. Here five minutes and I was already fucking up.
"You need to pay better attention," he said mildly, eyes reproving. "The one from Napa. It's open already. Now go." I nodded, bent my head so he could unsnap my leash, and headed for the bar.
"He's not actually shy," I heard Lance say behind me as I left. "I think he's just overwhelmed. This is his first time out in public since we started his training."
"Oh, what a treat." One of the other Masters was laughing, and I blushed harder.
Another slave was at the bar, mixing a drink. He was small and stocky, older than me by a lot, but fit and strong and there was a twinkle in his dark eyes I liked a lot. He grinned at me and I found myself grinning back.
"Hi, there," he said cheerfully. "I'm Alan. I'm with Master Nicholas, over talking to yours, I think," he gestured back the way I came.
"I'm Sebastian," I introduced myself, admiring his leather shorts and his nipple rings. "I like your shorts. I was just wishing I had pants."
"Why on earth would you want that? Every eye in the place is on your sweet tush." He winked at me, and I felt a million times better.
"I don't mind people admiring the goods, I'm just not used to it being naked," I complained as I poured Lance's wine carefully.
"Well, it's not like it's yours anymore," he shrugged with good cheer. "That's someone else's property now, and no wonder he wants to show it off. Come on, now. If I'm not back soon I'm liable to get myself turned over his knee."
"And that would be bad how?" I teased, and was rewarded with a full laugh. When we got back to our masters and presented our drinks, I followed Alan's lead and offered it to Lance from my knees. He gave me the hand gesture that we'd set up to mean "good boy," and I sighed relief and went back to my spot at Lance's shoulder.
"I see you've met Sebastian," the tall, handsome, sandy-haired young man said to Alan, who had stayed comfortably on his knees at his master's feet.
"Yes sir," he said quietly, voice very different from when he'd spoken to me, though I could still see the good humor and energy in him.
"What do you think?" Master Nicholas grinned at Sir, who rolled his eyes in amusement.
"I think he's very young and very new and very pretty, sir," Alan answered instantly. "I like him."
"Well, that's good," Nicholas said, reaching down to give Alan's head a pat. "Because I'm already fond of his Master, so we may be spending time together. Alan's been with me for a year," he said to Lance. "We're still working some things through, but we're learning together."
"Sounds like me and my boy," Sir said, sipping his wine. "It's harder, I think, because we both work, and it's not like we can just turn everything else off while we're learning."
"Exactly," Nicholas nodded. "Sometimes I'm jealous of Ben and Corey. Ben runs his shop, and Corey's his house slave full-time. No wonder he's so well-trained. Alan always comes home from work in full brat mode."
Alan glanced up at me surreptitiously and dropped one eyelid. I caught my giggle before it could escape.
"Brat? Seb is a wonderful boy, and he's my treasure, but I think he has the title of year's biggest brat all tied up," Lance said ruefully, and I bit my lip, feeling a little forbidden spark of resentment. He didn't need to tell everyone we met. And then he made it even worse, by adding "even diaper training didn't help."
Nicholas laughed loud and long, and I chewed my lip harder. "I kept Alan in diapers for a month," he said cheerfully. "But for us, it's something we needed, and still do. I'm his daddy sometimes, and he's my little boy, aren't you, baby?" He tipped Alan's chin up, and Alan just nodded, eyes shining with devotion.
"We haven't tried that," Lance said curiously. "Why would you go that way?"
"Well, it's fun, for one thing," Nicholas answered easily. "And my Alan didn't have much of a childhood. It's good for him to get to let go once in a while, it helps him get to a place where he's dependent and quiet and a good boy. It increases my authority. And sucking a pacifier keeps that smart mouth shut."
"Oh, brilliant," Lance laughed, and I held my breath. "That sounds like a winner on all accounts. I don't know, though. Seb's already so young, it doesn't seem right to bring him down to infant level all the way."
"You should see other people doing it first," Nicholas nodded. "If our host doesn't mind, I know he's got a nursery room set up downstairs. I'd be happy to show you with Alan, just give you a taste. It can be very powerful."
"I would be honored," my Sir said, and that's how we found ourselves with Corey and Ben leading us downstairs a short while later, Ben teasing Sir about scening so early in the evening, and Sir coming back with the fact that he had to take all the opportunities we had. Corey smirked at me a little. I still didn't like him. I knew he wanted Sir.
"Sir," Alan said respectfully, sliding to his knees to the floor outside the closed door of the room, after Corey and Ben had left us. "May I speak?"
"You may," Nicholas nodded.
"Sir, this slave noticed that Sebastian was uncomfortable when the Masters were discussing this scene before. This slave would like permission to speak to that slave privately and explain some things, before his master honors him with attention."
"Lance? I can show you some of the equipment inside," Nicholas looked at Lance for permission, and after a moment, Lance nodded.
"Kneel, Seb. Thank Master Nicholas for allowing his slave to instruct you," he said softly, unclipping my leash.
"Thank you, Master Nicholas," I said obediently, and he nodded his acceptance. In a moment I was alone with Alan, and still waited on my knees. Oddly, I got more of a sense of "master" from him than "slave," when the two of us were alone, and I instinctively stayed down.
"I get that you don't like this kind of thing, or you think you don't," Alan said, leaning casually against the wall and watching me. "But you should know that it's not demeaning. It doesn't make me less of a person, or less of an adult. It doesn't mean my Master wants to have sex with little boys, either. It's a place where my Master gives me complete freedom to be a child again, and though most of my rules still apply, it's incredible. I beg for it sometimes. Sometimes, if I want to hold onto being bad, I resent it, because as a child, I can't hate my daddy, and sometimes I want that hatred. Then he makes me play this way until I'm good again." He held my eyes. "Do you understand?"
"Sort of," I said reluctantly. "But, it's so. Ugh. I don't know."
"It's intense," he nodded. "But good. It seems like something you'll like, if you let yourself. Just let yourself imagine it, all right?"
"All right." I smiled at him, grateful. This smart, sharp, funny guy clearly knew what he was talking about. He was nobody's doormat, and if he said it was maybe worth it, well, I'd try real hard.
"All right." He reached out and patted my shoulder, and I didn't resent it at all. It was friendly support, and when I followed him into the room, I felt a lot of my tension disappear. The room itself was soft and warm, decorated in pastels and powder colors. Even the straps on the changing table were pale leather, and the carpet was soft and thick. There were clouds and balloons on the wall, and nursery furniture all around, including a sturdy rocking chair and cupboards.
"There they are," Nicholas said warmly, and Alan walked to his side and bowed his head. "Are you ready, baby?"
"Yes sir," Alan said, and his voice had already changed, to a light, soft, childlike voice. "Daddy?"
"Yes, baby boy. Now let's take off those shorts." He took Alan's hand and led him to the changing table, and carefully undid his shorts, tugging them down off his hips, as Alan stood passively. He dug his fingers into Alan's sides and grinned at the wild giggles, completely ignoring Alan's penis, which stood out from his body, red and hard and ready. "Up you go."
"Come here, Seb," Sir ordered quietly, and I was at his side instantly. He was sitting on the soft couch, and he put me down between his legs, sitting indian-style so I could see everything.
Alan pulled himself up onto the changing table, movements sort of young and clumsy, and giggled some more when Nicholas blew a raspberry on his belly. "Now lay down, there's a good boy. Did you use the potty like a big boy today?"
"Yes, daddy," Alan said proudly. "I didn't have any accidents."
"Good boy! Now grab your knees. Let's get a look at how good a job you did cleaning up." We could see everything when Alan grabbed his knees and spread them wide, his soft-looking, clean-shaven crotch, his little red hole, everything.
"Looks good, baby. For nighttime we still use a diaper," Nicholas said to us, "just so there aren't any accidents."
I couldn't look away as Nicholas put diaper cream all over Alan's private parts, then diapered him and lifted him off the table. It was so sweet, somehow, sexual in a way, but more intimate than really sexy. Alan went right down to the floor and started playing with the oversized, bright colored toys, humming to himself, ignoring us completely. He was stacking blocks.
"I usually give him a little time now," Nicholas said softly to Lance as he came to us and settled into the rocking chair. "It's his quiet place in his mind right now, he's deep in subspace, but not the kind that comes from pain. It's let him let go of a lot of anger he had before." He watched Alan play with huge affection.
"Is it sexual at all when he's like this?" Lance asked, his hand stroking my hair absently. I was still so confused.
"Oh, yes. Not every time, but a lot. He's painfully hard in that diaper right now, since submission is a huge turn-on from him, and in here I'm the ultimate authority. I never leave him alone when he's like this, either, because he forgets sometimes and starts masturbating. I don't want to have to punish him for anything he does in this state, so I just keep an eye on him so I can remind him. Sometimes we have to have spankings when he's too bratty, but even that's different in this scene."
"Sebastian?" I realized suddenly that my hand was tight around Sir's leg. "You can speak," he said encouragingly.
"He looks happy," I whispered. I couldn't imagine that, but I was very jealous suddenly.
"That's because he is," Sir told me gently. "It's not demeaning. Just like when you wore the diaper. I didn't think any less of you because of it."
"Oh."
Alan was up again, roaming around the room, looking at things and playing with them, but he ended up at Nicholas's side, grinning at him impishly. "Daddy," he asked demandingly. "Daddydaddydaddy!"
"Manners," Nicholas said mildly, and Alan blushed a little. He was very cute.
"Sorry. Can I play with the other boy?" His voice was a childlike stage whisper. Nicholas looked inquiringly at Sir.
"Sebastian?" Sir turned my face so I could see him. "If you'd like to try, I would like you to. We'll take off your belt for a little while, and you can go without the diaper if you promise you won't make a mess."
I was torn. I wantedwantedwanted it, but I was scared, and Sir must have seen that, because he nodded. "Go play with the little boy, Seb," he said gently, reaching down to stand me up in front of him. I was shaking while he unlocked my belt and took it off me, and when he slapped my hip to get me moving I jumped.
Alan clapped his hands and ran to my side, tugging me over to the toy chest. It felt so strange, knowing that Sir and Nicholas were watching, but Alan was so spontaneous and happy and energetic I found myself getting caught up in it. And then we were on the floor playing Legos, and things started to get a little strange for me.
The Legos were bright, and I was playing with my friend, and my daddy was watching. I didn't have any clothes on, but that was okay, because my daddy (not my REAL daddy, I knew that) liked me that way. My friend was nice and fun and tickled me and made me laugh, and one by one, I lost all my worries. I could hear the daddies talking, but they were talking about boring grownup stuff, and Alan was much funner. When he touched my hard penis a little one of the daddies said something sharp and he stopped, but that was okay.
"Uh oh," Alan said, right when we were in the middle of coloring. "I went pee." He got up and went over to the daddies, and tugged on his daddy's hand.
"Yes, baby," his daddy asked.
"My diaper's wet," he announced, and his daddy smiled a little.
"Let me see. Come on, up on my lap." Alan climbed onto his daddy's lap, facing away, and his daddy slid a hand into his diaper. "Very wet," he said quietly.
"I went a lot," he confessed, and I got closer to watch. My daddy, so handsome and strong, smiled at me and let me crawl up on the couch with him, putting his arm around me all comfortable. I popped my thumb into my mouth and watched as Alan's diaper got taken off, leaving him naked in his daddy's lap.
"Have you been a good boy?" Alan nodded wildly, grinning, and his daddy laughed. "Okay, you get your treat. Let's see that bottom of yours." As Alan got up on his knees, still facing away, and put both of his hands to his bottom cheeks, spreading himself open, his daddy opened up his pants! And pulled out his penis! It was really thick, and red, and hard. Definitely a grownup one. He put his hands on Alan's waist and pulled him back into his lap, and his penis went right up inside Alan. I was starting to breathe funny then, and in between my legs was hurting SO bad. Not as much as Alan's, I bet, since he was making these little squeaking noises and telling his daddy that it was hurting a lot.
"It's okay, you're a good boy," Alan's daddy said, so nice and soft, and then he was kind of moving around a lot, and it was so sexy, the noises they were making, and then WHAM I was out of that space and back to being Sebastian and I was humping myself against Lance, who was just starting to frown at me.
"Oh my god, SIR," I said, stunned, and stopped right away.
"Welcome back, sweetheart," Sir said to me, and I almost got dizzy, and he just pulled me into his lap and held me as I shivered and watched Master Nicholas put Alan down on the floor and fuck him into the carpet. Alan stayed in his toddler role, sucking his thumb frantically as Nicholas pounded into him, eyes closed blissfully. After Nicholas came, and cleaned himself a little, he spent a long time telling Alan how special and good he'd been, how proud he'd made his daddy, how much his daddy loved him. Alan curled up against Nicholas and fell asleep, his penis still hard and ready and looking as painful as mine felt.
"So, that's what we do, sometimes," Nicholas said, stroking his sleeping slave's hair and looking over at us. "Afterwards, we always talk about it, honestly and openly. He talks about what he was feeling, what he thought. And I tell him what I saw, and give him any help I can. Sometimes the first thing he does when he gets the diaper on is have a temper tantrum, though those are getting a lot more rare." He grinned at Sir.
"That's kind of incredible," Sir shook his head. "I don't know I'd have believed it without seeing it. And my Sebastian, again, I wouldn't have believed it." I kept quiet.
"Sometimes it's easier the first time if you have an example to follow," Nicholas told him. "Alan isn't ashamed, he loves it, which gives Sebastian the freedom to do the same. I'll admit I was thinking something like that might happen. Alan's always looking for a playmate."
I looked over at the coloring books and blocks scattered around, the action figures we'd been playing with, Alan's folded used diaper. I was still shaking, but not in a bad way, just in a `I didn't know that was in my head' kind of way. Sir had, though. Sir always knew. Sir. Always. Knew. I slid to my knees and rested my forehead on his thigh, holding my hands open, palms up, opening myself to him completely. I had no desire to come. His pleasure was all.
"This slave thanks you for your wisdom and love, sir," I said softly. "This slave does not deserve your grace, but is grateful for your attention in any way you see fit to give it."
"I love you, Sebastian," Sir answered me, and kissed me, his eyes warm and happy, and sent me off to clean up the mess we'd made.
End part 16
A.N. -- In Sebastian's POV, he changes back and forth between thinking of his master as "Lance" and "Sir." This is deliberate, and generally reflects Seb's state of mind and level of submission. Poor thing's still all over the place! grin