Read Beautiful boy Online

Authors: Grace R. Duncan

Tags: #gay romance

Beautiful boy (38 page)

“Okay, Master. I love you.”

“Love you, boy. Now, go log in. But first… get the vibrator.”

“Yes, Master.” I whimpered, but as I hung up and went to get the Bluetooth vibrator Master gave me for Christmas, I felt about a million times better.

 

 

I KNELT
in my cage at the Asylum, eyes trained on the pillow beneath me, but I wasn’t seeing it. My mind was a million miles away—well, actually, they were about fifteen miles away, with Master.

Who wasn’t coming tonight.

I tried to tell myself, again, that it wasn’t me. That Master wanted me, wanted to be here. It wasn’t an excuse to not see me, like I’d done to him all week long.

His mom had fallen and sprained her ankle, and his dad had to work that night—volunteer firemen undoubtedly couldn’t be off on New Year’s Eve. Zoe was with Paul’s family, Ford was currently in Times Square, and Simon, of course, had gone home to Los Angeles. Which left Master.

I kept telling myself this, reminding myself they were family. It wasn’t because of me.

What I
didn’t
understand was why I wasn’t there with him. I would have much rather spent the night with Mal, watching the ball drop on television, than sit here in nothing but my woven-leather jock strap, waiting to be bought by Master Nash.

“Master, please, why can’t I go help you?”

“Because Mom doesn’t need both of us. You can help the LGBT center by going up for auction.”

“Couldn’t I just send a direct donation?”

“And make those guys miss out on losing you again?”

I hadn’t wanted to agree, but he had a point. My former Doms were supposed to be here, and I had already seen a couple of them walk through. Master couldn’t resist getting one more dig in on them, and I couldn’t help wanting it too.

I sighed, raising my eyes enough to look around surreptitiously. Master wasn’t there, but I didn’t want anyone to think anything bad about him because his boy didn’t follow protocol. I realized the room had been filling as I’d been lost in my morose thoughts.

I would be last tonight. I’d been last to arrive and register, so I had the whole auction to sit through. I wanted to be done and
gone
so I could get to Master. But Master Nash had had to pick up his girl and we’d gotten stuck in traffic twice. So we’d been later than I wanted to be.

His girl, Amy, was in the cage next to mine, and I glanced over at her. She was looking around too, and her eyes met mine briefly. She smiled at me and I returned it, hoping it looked more smile than the grimace it felt like. I guess I managed well enough because she nodded slightly, then turned her gaze back to the cushion she sat on. I went back to my internal ramblings.

I couldn’t help but be afraid that, despite what Master had said to me over the last two days, I’d lost him. That I wouldn’t really be going to see him after the auction. That I’d just fucked up too much and he was dodging me.

He hadn’t acted like it for most of the weekend. We’d talked on the phone a few times to work out details for tonight. He’d sent me a few edging tasks, and I’d sent him the picture evidence of my hard, dripping dick. He’d replied with the pictures of his cum. We’d even spent time both days in our game together. But then he’d insisted on going to his mother’s alone, refused to share tonight with me. And I couldn’t take anything from it other than that he was pulling back. The only other thing I could think of was that it was a punishment for my behavior last week. Except Master had always told me he’d be clear about punishment. So maybe it wasn’t formal punishment, but Master was just that hurt.

I didn’t know. And that was making me crazy.

I vaguely listened to the emcee announce the start of the auction. He gave the same rules he had last time, talked about the cards on our cages, and introduced the first slave.

I’d texted back and forth with Master more than a few times while I’d filled my card out. I’d ended up with writing, “Impact play only by permission of my Master, Mal.” I didn’t feel comfortable
not
putting him on there, though he’d said I didn’t need to. Which only made me worry more. If he didn’t care if I mentioned him as my Master, then did he even want to Master me anymore?

My breathing shortened and heart pounded again, as it had more than once while I waited. After everything, I knew I deserved it if he didn’t want me. But that didn’t change the fact that I was still scared to death he didn’t. I didn’t
want
him to not want me. I wanted Mal to love me, Master me, keep me.

“Calm down, boy,” Master Nash murmured to me. I hadn’t even seen him walk up. “Nothing to be worried about. I’ll win you, not them.”

“Yes, Sir,” I murmured. I had trouble bringing myself to call Master Nash “Master.” Mal was my Master. I could show him respect, call him Sir. “Master” felt wrong now.

“Good boy,” Master Nash praised.

It wasn’t my Master’s praise, but it still helped a little. Master had talked to Master Nash at some point about the Doms and how they’d treated me. They weren’t banned from the club—that took something like ignoring safewords or limits—but he didn’t recommend them to new subs anymore either.

I was startled when Master Nash opened Amy’s cage and helped her out. I hadn’t realized I’d been so lost in my fearful internal ramblings. I blinked as she was led to the stage. She stepped up, bowed her head, and clasped her hands behind her back.

She was very pretty for a woman. I might not have been interested in them, but I could recognize prettiness. She wore a corset that made her waist look impossibly narrow, her small breasts larger and spilling out over top. Despite her lack of height, the heels she wore made her legs look like they went on forever. I guessed that was the point.

I was very grateful I wasn’t a woman. Those shoes and that corset looked worse than anything Master could dream of putting me through. I shuddered involuntarily.

The emcee introduced her, explained she was there by permission of her Master, Master Nash, and that she was open to rope or sensation only. Then he opened the bidding.

Master Nash kept up with it, and when the amount topped out at six hundred uncontested, she grinned at him. I couldn’t help smiling a tiny bit. They seemed so unlikely—Nash had to be more than six and a half feet tall, very broad, and overall huge. And she was
tiny
. But they seemed happy enough. She stepped off the stage and went over to the payment table.

And my cage was opened. I swallowed my fear and nerves and crawled out, then stood with my feet braced apart and hands held together behind my back. I had to take a few breaths, my heart pounding, but a moment later, Master Nash was there, touching my elbow and leading me to the stage.

I stepped up, suddenly unwilling to look out at the audience. I wasn’t nervous, but if I didn’t look, I could pretend my own Master was out there somewhere, still wanting me. That he was just waiting to bid on me, win me, and wrap his strong hand around the back of my neck as I stepped off the stage. I could imagine him leaning in and murmuring something like
I can’t wait to beat that ass for you, boy
or even just
Glad to see you again, boy. Love you
. Or… well, anything.

The emcee announced me, listed my availability and preference, and started the bidding at two hundred. I heard Master Nash’s voice accept. Two more voices joined in as the number climbed, and I waited, heart thudding so loud I was sure they could hear it on the other end of the dungeon. The bids broke five hundred, Master Nash’s voice beating every new offer.

Suddenly, I really did
not
want to be on that stage. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk someone else winning me. I had to get to Master. I’d get down on my knees and beg him if I had to, I didn’t care. I’d been so, so,
so
stupid! I should have gone to him first. I should have called him the second I’d left my parent’s house. No, I should have called him from my mother’s office.

How could I ever have thought he wouldn’t have wanted me? How could I ever have thought he’d take me out of pity? And now… now I’d blown it. Now he didn’t want me. Now, even if I
did
go to him, it
would
be out of pity.

But I’d take pity. I’d take anything because I couldn’t be away from him anymore.

I looked up to say something to the emcee and froze at what I saw.

“Eight hundred! Going once!”

“One thousand dollars,” my Master called from the back, his eyes fixed on me.

I stopped breathing. I stared, mouth agape, unable to tear my gaze away for anything in the world in that moment. My vision tunneled to him, only him, and I couldn’t think of anything except
He’s here
.

He’s here.

Master’s here.

White noise roared in my ears, and I started to go fuzzy around the edges and realized I still wasn’t breathing. I sucked in a breath.

“Going twice!”

I waited, muscles straining to run to him, but I held still. Something in his eyes told me to stay. I didn’t want to. I wanted to go to him, drop to my knees. But I wouldn’t disappoint him again.

He was
here
.

“Sold!”

I finally released my muscles enough to step off the stage, but Master held a hand up slightly and I stayed. I vaguely registered the emcee stepping to the side as Master walked through the audience. The noise of the crowd filtered in then, murmuring, probably wondering why I was still onstage.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. He was as gorgeous as always, maybe even more so for the time we’ve been apart. His hair, if possible, looked wilder. His chest was bare, save the harness he wore when he bought me the first time. His leather pants hugged him just as they had before, and my cock hardened from simply looking at him.

Especially at the look in his eyes.

Possessive. Maybe a little savage. And loving. Still loving.

Oh God
….

I would not cry. I wouldn’t. I refused. But I wanted to. My eyes burned, a lump formed in my throat, and my breathing stuttered all over again.

Then Master cleared the group and stepped up on the stage next to me. I turned to him, I couldn’t have stopped myself for anything in that moment. I opened my mouth to speak, though I had no idea what I was going to say.

But Master put a finger on my lips, saving me from trying. He reached behind him and pulled out something that I guessed he’d had in the waistband of his pants. I blinked at it, completely derailed for a moment. He held a velvet jewelry box, probably three or four inches wide and a good eight inches long.

No, it couldn’t be. After all I did, he wouldn’t….

Master opened it. “I should have done this sooner, beautiful boy,” he murmured.

I barely heard it. I was too busy trying to assimilate what I was seeing. It was exactly what I thought. I had no idea what the metal was. It was silver in color, though it looked more like platinum. In the front, in the center, lay an engraved plate.

Master Mal’s

Beautiful boy

On each end of the plate, two lengths of interlocking rings that created an almost square chain connected with solid rings. They met in the back at a square catch with a hole in the center. A lock.

A matching plate and chain nestled in the velvet in the middle of the collar, though the chain was much shorter. And this plate had a different inscription. It read simply:

Kyle’s Master

“Master,” I croaked, and as I looked up at him, the tears I’d tried so hard to hold back threatened even more. “Is… do….”

“Will you accept my permanent collar, Kyle? Be my boy forever?”

That was it, that was all it took. I couldn’t stop my tears from spilling over to save my life. I licked my lips, trying desperately to remember how to make sound. “You… you really want me?”

Master smiled and nodded. “For the rest of our lives, Kyle.”

“But I… I… I’ve done… I’ve been….”

Master shook his head. “No, baby. It’s all right.” He frowned, looking down. “If you don’t want to, if you don’t like it—”

Oh God, no!
Without a second thought, I dropped to my knees at his feet and managed to clear my throat. “I offer you my service, Master, and would love to wear your permanent collar.”

I thought he whispered something like
Oh thank God
, but I couldn’t be sure.

Master reached out, the key to the lock on my leather collar in his hand. I hadn’t seen him pull it out or put the box down, but I couldn’t care. His hand shook slightly as he turned the key and removed the lock. I sucked in a breath when he pulled off the leather, but then the metal collar slid into place and Master fiddled with the lock on the back. The silence I hadn’t noticed before allowed me to hear the tiny snick as Master set the lock.

“I accept your service and promise to take care of it—and you—for as long as you’ll wear it.”

Master’s voice was a little shaky, and I took a chance and looked up at him. “I know you will, Master. Thank you.”

He held the bracelet version out to me, and I took the other thin silver one off and replaced it. I was surprised to see the clasp was a smaller version of the lock on mine. I looked at him and he nodded. “As the lock on your collar binds you to me, so does the lock here bind me to you.”

I’m not sure what to call the sound that came out of my throat. I didn’t try to interpret it. I simply focused on taking the tiny key Master handed to me and turning it in the lock. I turned Master’s hand over, leaned forward, and kissed the plate over my name.

“Thank you, boy,” Master whispered. “Thank you, Kyle.”

It took me a full minute of struggling with myself to speak. “Thank you, Mal.”

Master hauled me to my feet and into his arms. A second later, he crushed his mouth to mine in a kiss more possessive, more savage than any before. My arms went around him, and I opened to him, taking everything he gave and reveling in his want and love.

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