From: Jay Stark
Sent: Sunday, April 20, 2013 9:46 AM
To: Dane Carmichael
Sent: Sunday, April 20, 2013 9:46 AM
To: Dane Carmichael
I hope you’re still considering that sub workshop.
I’d be down for it.
E says it would be good for all of us.
My cell is 212-555-3356 if you need more convincing.
Thanks for thinking about it.
The message has been itching at me all day, and now that I’m riding the train to Master’s, I can devote some brain cells to the dilemma. Perhaps I didn’t give enough forethought to where that first workshop might lead us. Eleazar sold us on the idea as an open-ended, biweekly series, and we certainly have plenty more ground to cover. Hell, Master hasn’t even touched me yet in front of the group.
And now, in addition to taking on Tyler on some level, both Master and I have agreed in concept to leading these breakout sessions. No script, no choreography, and no Master to hold my hand. Sigh.
Speaking of Master . . . there he is now, leaning against his car, waiting for me in his usual spot at the train station. I’m embarrassed by how much I’ve missed him after just thirty-six hours apart . . . until he pulls me into his arms and says, “God, I hate sleeping without you, Dane.”
“I missed you, too, Master.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yes,” I answer, climbing into his BMW. “I grabbed a salad at the station.”
He enters the highway, his head turning in my direction more than is probably prudent. “Are you tired?” Subtext: are you too tired to play?
“Nope, I’m good.”
Master nods, receiving my answer in the exact spirit in which it was intended. I am at your service, Master. If there’s been one constant in our routine, the first night back in Master’s home involves a visit to the dungeon. Of course, I have only a vague idea how Master has “redecorated” for the eventuality of Tyler’s visit. Much depends on how Tyler responded on his checklist.
“Have you finalized the arrangements with Tyler?”
“Yes.” Master shoots a quick glance at me before elaborating. “He’s arriving tomorrow at three. That gives us tonight and tomorrow morning together and some time to reconnect after he leaves. How does that sound?”
“That sounds like heaven.” My turn to share. “So, I received an email from Jay this morning.”
“I had a feeling he’d reach out to you. What’d he have to say?”
“He wants me to lead that sub workshop.”
Master sneaks a peek at me. I recognize the move by now; he’s taking my emotional temperature. An unwelcome image of a giant rectal thermometer imposes itself before I can sweep it away.
“Ahh,” is all he says. The sphinx impersonation. I fall for it every time.
“I don’t think I appreciated how quickly our one little foray into consulting would take on this life of its own.”
“If you’re not comfortable going forward with any aspect of this, just say the word.”
“Mercy?” I haven’t used my safe word in so long, I’d nearly forgotten it.
“That works. Or use mine if you’d like. ‘Enough’ would certainly be appropriate here. We don’t have to do everything all at once just because other people want us to.”
“I want to,” I assure him. “It’s just . . . it’s easy to feel like a big shot when I’m sitting at your side, but leading a group by myself is another story.”
“Dane.” Master’s voice shifts into caress mode. “You were the one who had them riveted on Tuesday. It’s your journey that touched them, your experience they want to understand. I have zero doubt you will be a star at this, but I’m not the one who has to believe. If you’re not ready, I’ll be the first to say don’t do this now.”
“I knew you’d offer me an escape hatch.”
“Because you know your well-being is always my top priority.”
“Of course.” And we both know that’s why I have to do this. “I’ve given this a lot of thought over the last couple of days. I know that’s part of the reason you left me alone.”
He shakes his head. “Seems as though the wizard needs a thicker curtain.”
I reach over and squeeze the hand resting on the gear shift. “Don’t worry, Master. You’re still an enigma.”
“Look who’s talking!” Master chuckles. “These thoughts you’re having . . . can you share?”
“Of course. My heart is full . . . my life is full. I have the love of a good man, meaningful friendships, satisfying work. I am deeply fulfilled by my relationship with you as my Master. Thanks to you, I have my parents back in my life and my sister, too, to the extent that’s healthy for me. If you would’ve asked me two weeks ago what was missing from my life, I would have said nothing. I want for nothing.”
Master stares through the windshield, giving me the space to dig around inside my heart and unearth the harder truths.
“But now I see that wasn’t quite true. Meeting Jay and Tyler opened a door to a hollowed out place in my soul. Now that I have the chance to fill this hole, I’m struck by the enormity of my need.”
“To heal the others,” he says.
“Yes. Do you know that children’s book, The Mitten?”
“Sure, my niece and nephew loved that one. The mitten that keeps stretching to accommodate each successively larger animal that burrows inside?”
“Yes. I didn’t think I would ever have the chance to make it up to them, and now, my heart just keeps expanding to let more people in. First Jay, then Tyler, and soon every man who walks into our workshop.”
“Sounds like one hell of a gang bang going on in there.”
“Ugh, thanks for that.” Despite myself, I grin, and so does Master when he sees my smile.
“Just keepin’ it real, Dane.”
“My point”—Master flattens out his smile and nods solemnly— “is that I’m meant to do this now. As you said, I have a unique perspective to share. Despite the doubts and challenges that may come our way, I know we will push through. It’s time to stop agonizing over every decision.”
Damn, it feels good to say this out loud to Master, and he doesn’t disappoint.
“I’m behind you one hundred percent.”
With the monumental hurdle out of my way, we’re both all smiles. “Okay, Master. Let’s do this thing.”
He glances at me once more, and even in the dark, I can make out the gleam in his eye. “Word.”
“No, no, sweet boy. ‘Master’ will be quite sufficient.” His tone has shifted, and I’m surprised to see we’re exiting the highway already. Talk time is over. Master will have me in his dungeon soon.
“Yes, Master,” I respond, my whole body internalizing his sovereignty over me.
We’re both quiet for the remainder of the drive home, the anticipation working its usual magic and arousing my system for our reunion. Before I leave the car, Master instructs me how to prepare myself for tonight’s scene.
The man who meets me on the dungeon side of the sub room door fifteen minutes later is undressed but for the black pants sitting low on his hips. From my kneeling position, I have a perfect view of his tantalizing bulge, defined in such mouth-watering detail, there can’t possibly be underwear involved. Presumably, Master’s pleasure will not be drawn out tonight; I can’t say the same for my own. I’m naked and hard and beyond ready for whatever he has in store for me.
Master presents my leather dungeon collar, which I receive with a grateful kiss. Master fastens the clasp at the back of my neck, rakes his fingers into my hair, and pulls my face to his groin. “Ahh, boy, this dungeon is too lonely without you.”
I open my mouth and cover him with moist breath. Poor Master. While I’ve at least had the distraction of work, he’s been inside this chamber of fantasies alone, setting the scene for all kinds of decadent play. His zipper bites at my cheek, but I don’t have permission to unwrap my gift.
I do my very best through the fabric, but it’s a relief when Master tugs my head back so he can unzip. He doesn’t need to guide me back in; I am all over the situation. Master lets out a happy chuckle and helps me with several thrusts of his hips.
“Okay, you better stop now. I have other plans for you tonight.” He cups my chin and kisses me before stepping out of his pants. “Come, boy, I have some shackles with your name on them.”
Oh god, yes.
As I rise to my feet and follow Master, I notice how empty the dungeon feels tonight. The major pieces of furniture rest against the walls, except for the whipping bench standing alone in the center. I can’t help but remember my first time in this sacred space, when Master pushed aside everything that could have been intimidating, leaving only a fluffy rug beneath my feet. We’ve come such a long way, I note with pride, and how my world has opened up! Machinery and whips and clamps I once feared are now instruments of unimaginable pleasure in Master’s skilled and compassionate hands.
Hands that now bend me forward over the end of his whipping table. Master tightens the straps over my wrists and fastens the buckles with the utmost care. He crouches at my left side, firmly but gently sliding my ankle to the cuff waiting for me at the foot of the table. Drawing his hand up my leg, he lingers at my ass before tracing a path down the inside of my right thigh and leaving me tingling while he buckles the cuff around my right ankle.
“There, now. Locked in nice and tight, just the way I like you.”
Master’s words and the meticulous ritual of locking me into his bonds have the desired effect. With each snap of metal, I let go of my responsibility to maintain control over hands, feet, and everything in between. My job is simply to feel whatever it is Master offers.
With a gentle hand at my back, Master presses my cheek to the leather. “Relax for me, Dane.” My response is immediate and complete.
He answers my whisper with a stroke of his palm down the middle of my back. A moan escapes me as hands spread me open. Master puts his mouth on me, then inside me; I cry out. His tongue bathes me, probes deeper.
Thank you, Master.
I can’t track his mouth, his hands. He enters me. Please, more, more. He rocks me back—spearing me, slapping skin against skin—and forward—slick cock sloshing along leather. Deliberate and punishing, thrusting, grunting, gliding. Filthy, filthy words.
Master groans, tightens his grip, pounds and pounds. Stills. Holds his breath. Explodes.
Master drops forward, blanketing me with his body, his heart pounding hard into my back. He reaches around, places his warm hand between my skin and the leather bench. Closes a fist around me and rocks us with his hips. His breath a hot gust on my neck.
“Come hard for your Master, Dane. Show me your devotion!”
And I’m gone.
Greetings from Rio de Janeiro! Hope you enjoyed their transition from apart to together. Thank you for leaving me your thoughts both here and in PM's. I love hearing what direction you are taking the story! You are one creative bunch! Time to thank Chayasara and Jayme once again for all their creative input. If you're not familiar with the story I referenced, here's the link to "The Mitten.": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDOzlaOc3Us