Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Eighty-six


Saturday night—our first apart since I took the suite at the Fillmore—I toss and turn all night, visualizing our kinky tangling on Dane’s bed that first visit. More eager to connect with my boy than take advantage of the morning wave of horny, I tug on my sleep pants and don’t even pretend I’m not skipping down the stairs.

Crap. He’s been up for an hour already. That cannot be good.

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From: Dane Carmichael
Sent: Sunday, February 3, 2013 6:14 AM
To: Marcus Andrews
Subject: Report

Good morning, Master.

Despite Your beautiful reading of The Rubaiyat last night, i'm afraid sleep eluded me. Would that i'd had 'a jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and Thou' beside me.

Your brief visits to my apartment have only left this space feeling even emptier without You. Please don’t worry, Master. i will manage my shows today and be whole again when i feel Your arms around me tonight.

yours,
dane
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Terrible timing, leaving Dane to his own devices so close to the de-domming demo. I should have insisted on staying with him.

You can’t baby him if you want to boost his confidence.

His confidence will suffer for his failure.

No, he’s come so far already; he will bounce back and be stronger for it, and his Master will make sure of it tonight.

Hell yes, I will.

Meanwhile, a small admission of my own fitful sleep should bolster the boy.

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From: Marcus Andrews
Sent: Sunday, February 3, 2013 7:02 AM
To: Dane Carmichael
Subject: Re: Report

Ah, my beloved, fill the cup that clears
Today of past regrets and future fears

My sweet boy,
My bed was no more welcoming than yours, I’m afraid.

We will both be whole again once we’re together.
Perform well and make sure to nourish your body on the train. See you at the station in 16 hours.

Warmly,
Marcus
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From: Dane Carmichael
Sent: Sunday, February 3, 2013 7:04 AM
To: Marcus Andrews
Subject: Re: re: Report

Master,

Sounds like we will both sleep better tonight.
Looking forward to our reunion.

yours,
dane
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Coffee.

Seems my time in the city has spoiled me in more ways than one. I’ve never been picky about my blend of coffee. Let’s face it: it’s mostly about the milk and sweetener—or it was until my taste buds became accustomed to macchiato, and my upper lip started reaching for that fine sheen of barista foam. The old pot in the kitchen just doesn’t have the same pizzazz, but it’s gonna have to do today. I have a long one ahead of me.

Job number one is clearing my head of all the noise so I can focus on what needs to be packed for the demo scene. A few deliberate breaths have me on the right track. With coffee in one hand and pen in the other, I prepare my list.

The next few hours are spent transferring my recent stockroom purchases into a heavy-duty duffel, selecting whips and clamps from the dungeon and double-checking clips and ropes. As much as I hate the fucker, I won’t abide carelessness; that would lower me to his level. Wayne’s going to walk—or limp—out of Downstairs in a world of pain, but it’s going to be pain we’ve inflicted with surgical precision. He will suffer for his sins, and I will sleep like a “well-fucked baby,” to use my beautiful boy’s semi-disturbing phrase.

I shuffle through my hangers, thumbing past the standard black “work pants” that have been my go-to dungeonwear for as long as I can remember. Slide, slide, slide . . . ahh, there they are, my “make-an-impression” pants with the reinforced belt loops and multiple zippered compartments.

Stealing a page out of Edward’s “not to be a pussy but . . .” book, I try on the pants because it’s been a damn long time since my ass was last inside them. I suck in my gut as my toes clear the leg opening; by the time the zipper rises, it’s clear the precaution was unwarranted. Damn, I really have trimmed down!

Just for fun, I snake my most intimidating belt through the loops and examine myself from every angle in the mirror. My anti-pussy meter expires with the backward glance over my shoulder to check out my ass. And that’s enough of that.

I might just treat my boy to a session with this version of his Master one day soon, and hmmm, I have to admit, the shirtless look isn’t half bad. Yeah, well, just for Dane—not for Asswipe. Any one of my many black T-shirts will work, and I grab one from the drawer and toss it onto the bed with the rest of my clothes for the overnight trip.

Wardrobe issues sorted out, it’s time for a workout, and the heavy bag provides the perfect practice for my cat. It’s ridiculously easy to picture the fucker at the other end of the barbs. Swoosh! Just one more day, and I will have you bound and repenting, you motherfucker!

Forty-five minutes of hide-ripping thrashing later, the sweat is pouring down my back. I’m ready to avenge my boy and take the fucker out of circulation. With a hot shower to separate Wayne’s comeuppance from everything right and good in my life, I am in the proper head space to really deliberate what kind of scene will best serve Dane tonight. With little sleep and back-to-back shows, he doesn’t need a physical challenge. Quite the opposite, I decide, bounding back down the dungeon stairs with a much lighter heart than before.

Regardless of Dane’s emotional state when he gets off that train, his Master will be ready to meet him where he is and take him to a different plane, one where he will have no responsibilities and no cares.

7:00, the first actors are just entering the stage to “Hot Stuff.”

My body has absorbed the rhythm and routine of Dane’s stage life much like the parent who senses exactly when it’s time to watch for the school bus’s return at the end of the day. My biorhythms say it’s time for my dinner, and the planner in me says it’s time for one last call to Aro. When the last of this day’s work is done, I change into a pair of well-worn jeans to go pick up Dane. Master will be fully present, but Marcus will only be a word or a twitch away. I will be whomever Dane needs.

Speaking of needs, I’ve been too long without my boy already. By the time I pull into Scarsdale station, I’ve already decided to spend next Saturday night in the city; no more lonely nights for the two of us. That happy realization propels me from the driver’s seat as Dane hops off the train—sans eyeliner. His clear, brown, unadorned eyes greet me with a different kind of need tonight, and his plea will not go unanswered.

“Hello, Master,” he says, stepping into my body for the contact we’ve both been missing.

I respond by pulling him against me and covering his mouth with mine. As delicious as he tastes and as much as I crave more of his body, Dane’s kiss is tinged with anxiety. My hands skim down his sides and come to rest on his hips.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” My greeting brings a smile to his lips. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I grabbed a burger at Five Guys on the way to the train.”

“You did what?” I pull back and look at his shirt as if I could see the decadent dinner sitting inside his belly.

Dane’s arm reaches across his abdomen, and he looks a bit chagrined. “I know. I don’t know what came over me.”

I pry his hand away from his stomach and slide my fingers between his. “I do. It’s comfort food, your body’s way of wrapping a warm blanket around your heart.” Snaking my other arm behind his back, I tug him close against my chest. “Let’s see if I can’t offer you something a little more satisfying when we get home.”

“I’m pretty sure you can,” he replies, “and without the indigestion.”

His nose crinkles, and I laugh despite myself. “You want a Tums?”

“No, thanks. I’m sure I’ll be okay by the time we get home.”

“Ah, youth.” I leave a soft kiss where his nose melds into his forehead. “Get in the car, Dane.”

He’s fidgety at first but calms down soon after we start talking. “How were your shows today?”

“Fine. Full house for both performances. Ella came down with the stomach flu last night, so Matt had to scramble for an understudy, and one of the chandeliers came down about five minutes before the earthquake, so that was an interesting improv moment. . .” Dane stops, grins, and shakes his head. “Sorry. Wow, runaway train here.”

“You’re fine. Tell me more.”

“I had a late lunch with Sean. He made me go into the bathroom and try on the outfit Riley got me for the demonstration.”

He doesn’t need to know about my less-than-menacing preen session earlier today. “Please tell me your pants are tight.”

Dane chuckles. “It’s Riley; of course they’re tight!”

“Mmm, sounds distracting. Gee, I hope I don’t slip and misplace the key to Wayne-o’s cage of hell—oh wait, I hope I do!”

“Nice,” he answers.

“Which shirt did Riley settle on? Last I heard, he was torn between Gucci and John Pennsky.”

A loud, nasal groan comes from the passenger seat. “Um, that would be James Perse, and he actually decided on Michael Kors.”

“Whatever, Dane.” I just became the girlfriend who goes car shopping with her boyfriend; might as well own it. “If it’s blue, I’m happy.”

“It’s very blue, and I think you’ll be very happy.”

Yep, I already am.

“He tossed in a second shirt as a joke—a black Nike tee with ‘No Pain, No Gain’ in giant blue letters.”

“Good ol’ Riley.” I have to admit, the guy is growing on me. He has both of us smiling right now, and that’s all good, especially when Dane turns serious again.

“Sean and I had a good talk about . . . things.”

“Good. I’m glad.” I grasp the gear shift between us and punch it into manual mode. I want Dane to keep talking. The more of this he gets out of his system before tomorrow night, the easier it will go for him.

“Sean told me he had a long talk with Eleazar about inviting a couple of the other subs, and they decided it wasn’t the best idea.”

“For the other subs or for you?”

“Me, I guess.”

“I’m okay with that.”

Dane shrugs and turns to look out his window. His fingers won’t sit still in his lap, and when he finally speaks, it’s with a soft, plaintive voice. “What about the others though? They’ll never get closure.”

“Dane, I promise you, Wayne will dom no more in any city where our network reaches; frankly, he’ll be lucky if he ever finds a sexual partner again after we’re through. That’s pretty much the best I can promise you.”

Slowly, his head turns my direction. “Yeah, okay.”

It takes all the self-control at my disposal to keep my eyes trained on the road. “You don’t sound too convinced.”

“Feels a little selfish on my part.”

“Dane, I know it’s not your natural state to put your own needs first, but sometimes, it’s exactly what you need to do.”

“Easy for you to say; you don’t know the others. Who will take care of their needs?”

“I have faith in Eleazar and Sean to do what they need to do. They’ll let the other victims know Wayne is out of commission. Maybe they’ll come up with some other kind of intervention or therapeutic technique to help those other boys heal. It’s what they do. Look how well you’ve recovered.”

A dark laugh comes from my passenger. “Seriously?” There’s a chilling edge to his voice that draws my eyes from the road.

“Dane?”

“Do you not remember what a complete mess I was when you found me? I couldn’t abide being touched. I couldn’t look people in the eye. I could barely speak!”

I sense him straightening up in his seat, his voice gaining conviction and volume as he continues. “That was after months of therapy and countless sessions with Sean. I was stuck and would still be stuck if I hadn’t met you! It was you, Master. You healed me.”

He raises an arm to wipe his eyes. The boy is practically levitating right out of his seat.

“Dane, I appreciate that; really, I do. But you must know, it’s not as if I have a magic wand to wave. I was only able to make an impact on you because we have something very special together.”

“I get that,” he responds.

“Do you?” Now I feel my own insides burning, as if Dane has set my wick on fire with his flame. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?”

My brief sideways glance catches a very surprised—and mildly worried— look on Dane’s face.

“Oh, Dane. It’s all good. I can’t remember ever feeling so alive and excited to get out of bed in the morning . . . or stay in bed, as the case may be!”

Dane’s broad grin clears away all the earlier apprehension. “That does sound good.”

“Yes, and speaking of staying in bed, you and I are not setting any alarms for tomorrow. We don’t have to be anywhere until eight o’clock tomorrow night, and I plan to make the most of not doing anything.”

Dane lets out a huge, deep sigh and sinks into the upholstery. “That sounds like heaven.” As the car is painted by the bright streak of an overhead light, I catch the peaceful smile on Dane’s face.

“Ahh, sweet boy, Master knows just what you need tonight.”




Sweet, sweet Dane. Can you ever be selfish? What do you think Master has in store for his jittery sub?

Snippets of Omar Khayyam's Rubaiyat were used in the emails. If you have any poetry suggestions for the boys, I'd love to hear them. My sweet Sue, aka beta-plus-plus-plus, has fed me some lovely ideas along the way, which has been a very cool perk to writing this story!

Here's a little more background on the amazing work (from our friend Google): 
__________________________________________
Omar Khayyam
1048-1131


These quatrains were translated by Edward FitzGerald at the end of the 19th century. The amorous ones were taken by the public to be paeans to a female companion. That however is unlikely. They belong to a category of Persian poetry known as khamriyya, what we would call bacchic (or wine poetry). As such they were traditionally addressed to beardless wine boys, objects of desire and contemplation in the Islamic tradition. Though the original Persian text is ambiguous (the language uses the same pronoun for both genders), the cultural context is not. The above selection is taken from the 5th edition of the Rubaiyat.

16 comments:

  1. ah, such a rich and poetic chapter! it's very clear to me how much each of these men have changed. whether is it because of each self or because of the other, it really makes no difference. it's their combining, as Marcus sort of said, that enabled each of them to grow, to more fulfill their genuine selves. I love how Marcus not only fit into his special pants with ease, but how he preened, briefly, in the mirror while doing so. I am literally jumping out of my skin with anticipation to see Waynehole get what's coming to him. Beautiful, as always, my dear girl!!

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  2. No more lonely nights ... doesn't it sound like music? Oh yes, yes Sir Paul's ... I am sooo anxious to read the "confrontation" - I wonder if you'll avenge us, will 1 chapter be enough to sate our thirst for this jerk? LOL
    I was 'talking' to someone last week about the things we're able to learn in fanficland. Ok, I've heard of Omar Khayyam - his scientific side interests me - but reading it here makes my heart flutters.
    And Dane worrying about the other subs? "Do you not remember what a complete mess I was when you found me? I couldn’t abide being touched. I couldn’t look people in the eye. I could barely speak!” Endearing but also a living proof of the long road Dane had walked, not in a million years he wld hv addressed his Master so emphatically, without fear of expressing his feelings. Awww ... So proud of him!
    Thx MotW

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    1. Yeah, you're so right about Dane's progress. And Marcus is cheering on that emphaticness because he knows it's a sign of mental health! I've learned much about much here- mostly people things, but there are the occasional topics of research that don't necessarily involve sex apparatus! It's all good, bb!

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  3. I love them. I love the way they open up to each other, but most of all I love that Dane is feeling free to say what is on his mind and what is bothering him. Just as he said...he had Marcus to help him, but it was Marcus guiding him to see himself as a whole and that makes them both happy!
    Marcus knows just what his boy needs and I can't wait to find out what that is!!
    Xoxo❤️

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    1. Ahh, well since you brought it up, I will tell you, Pates, the next chapter is one of my favorites (scene-wise). I hope you'll feel the same!

      And I could not agree more about how Dane is speaking his mind. He's still (always) respectful, but he's not feeling the need to hold back out of fear of losing Marcus. What a nice feeling! :)

      Thanks for your loveliness, as always.
      xo

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  4. When I read this chapter, my first thought was good for Dane, it isn't all sunshine and roses in this chapter by any means but Dane is able to express himself and say what is on his mind and Marcus is there to give him what he needs emotionally. I'm so proud of Dane, if he was my friend I think we would get through many tissues together. Let us hope that those other subs meet their own Marcus' in the future.

    Onto your question, I can't really put myself in Marcus' shoes but I think he will try to ground Dane as he is a bit all over the place. Perhaps have him kneel and get his thoughts together or, as Dane is into service perhaps give him some tasks or, heck, bathe Dane, massage him, make love to him and have an early night. That sounds pretty good to me...

    Anticipating the excitement to come, very much Born.

    Thank you

    Jarvis
    xx

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    1. Jarvis, those are beautiful thoughts and any one of them would have worked well in the story. And you're kind of making me all floaty here! These two are down to the nitty gritty of the spewing and Dane needs to know he's safe and it's going to be productive when he lets it out. So far so good! :)
      xxoo

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  5. Isn't it just so Dane-like? To want to see the other subs have the same closure as him? Such a giving man. I do hope we get to hear how the other subs fare after all is said and done. Great chapter :)

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  6. I see that I'm in the same camp as many here- thrilled to see Dane asserting himself. I think he's getting to that point where he knows that he can say whatever he needs to and he's not going to scare Marcus away. They are both in this for the loong haul.

    I love how concerned Dane is for the other subs. I think that's how I would be too. I guess we can only hope that they will continue to get everything they need from Sean and Eleazar and that they will find their own loving partners to help them even more. :)

    Love the parallels between M and D trying out their 'demonstration' outfits. very cute.

    and I am soo looking forward to seeing their evening coming up. Looks like D need something a little different tonight, and of course M knows just what that is.

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    1. YES! Isn't that a wonderful threshold to cross, Digi? When you know you're safe enough to truly be honest and your faith in the relationship and/or the other person is all you need.

      Okay I noticed you didn't guess. That's okay, just teasing!
      xo

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  7. Oooh my eyes hurt from that bright light that turned on over Danes head. Did he not realize all the good he has done for Marcus too? I sure do love that young man though. The way he thinks of others. Oh and if anyone has a sneaky pic of Marcus in his outfit that he was preening in I sure would like to see that lol.
    great chapter Born, it sure is building the anticipation for the upcoming night.
    Vicki xoxo

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    1. What a great question, V. I'm not sure that Dane sees these changes in Marcus as true changes or merely Marcus understanding what Dane has seen all along. OH WOW, what a deep story I've got here! (LOL) Hmm, I made up that outfit so not sure I could find it for ya.
      xoxo

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  8. Random thoughts..
    "de-Doming" made me grin.
    Marcus being so professional is so in character and makes me want to hug him. He probably wouldn't like that.
    "Make an Impression pants" Snorted so loud, I woke the dog.
    I need to hug Dane for worrying so much about the other subs. I'm sure he'd let me.

    As far as Dane has come (snort) in his relationship with Marcus, he is still a bit insecure. I found that to wonderfully in character as well. He was pretty far in a hole. It wouldn't be realistic for him to let go of all of that so fast.

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    1. Oh I think Marcus would love to be hugged by you! Dane, too! :)

      HA! Glad you liked that line!
      I agree, the turnaround with Dane is already a miracle. Let's not add complete unrealism to it! LOL
      xo

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