Pain

Story 21 – There is torment worse than physical pain when Rowan’s prank uncovers a secret

All stories in order here

Scott seethed with rage. Rowan and Stefan had been at it again, blitzed out of their mind on some sort of drug. 

The two getting high wasn’t much of a surprise. Though, he doubted the euphoric man slung over his shoulder had known what he’d taken. What used to be a ‘once in a blue moon thing’ was now a frequent occurrence. Nothing much was off the table these days, so long as it gave them limitless energy, God-like confidence, and heightened senses. 

Their usual choice, cocaine, Scott could understand. All it did was make Stefan more Stefan, but this? His idiot employer had been walking around in a blissful dream, trying to ‘connect’ with just about anything on two legs, mostly by rubbing up against them.

He suspected the obnoxious performer had dosed him with ecstasy as revenge for Stefan’s victory in the who-could-lay-the-new-girlfriend-best competition. Rowan had come back a week later while she was at work, promising the dom one last bit of fun while she was none the wiser. He’d offered some run of the mill amphetamines to put them onto the right kind of edge, that dangerous one with the fifty foot drop below. Throw a few girls into the mix and Rowan would have a second chance at besting him. The draw was impossible to resist. Smug and overconfident, Stefan had been more than happy to comply. 

Rowan himself, seemed differently affected when the pills took effect. He was under some sort of influence, no doubt, but retained more control, having probably suckered Stefan into thinking they were taking the same thing. It wasn’t funny. It was one thing to fuel Stefan’s already bloated ego, but empathy and love were detrimental to Stefan’s fearsome image. Any longer out there and his reputation would have been permanently tarnished. 

As Scott approached the bed, he heaved his blissful master off his shoulder, letting him drop hard onto the sheets. He could walk just fine on his own, he just didn’t want to, quietly giggling the whole way from the party.

As for his partner in crime, he didn’t know where Rowan had gone to, and didn’t care. With any luck, he’d stumble into the pool and drown.

“Did you take ecstasy?” he snapped, his voice fraught with rage. Not that this writhing thing taking pleasure in the silken fabric would notice. 

This whole scene was far too familiar. He’d seen him in such a state before after the two had taken that so-called ‘love potion.’  It was some blend of unknowns they shot themselves up with. Scott wished he could forget what had happened next, but it was etched in his brain for life. He’d cleaned up the mess, but his efforts to ensure Stefan wouldn’t remember the disturbing incident had an unexpected consequence. His employer hadn’t learned a thing from it.

Stefan rolled over to gaze at him, smiling, “You’re kinda cute.”

Scott scowled, heading for a nearby chest of drawers where tools and assorted binds were kept. Selecting two simple ropes, he slammed the drawer shut and made his way back to the bed. The last thing he needed was the man bolting to re-joining the crowd. Not in the state he was in.

Grinding his teeth in irritation, he questioned why he kept doing this job. To say it was thankless would be a gross understatement. The verbal and physical abuse he could take, it strengthened him as a person. Even working every hour of every day and being on call every night, he could accept. Although the workload itself was crippling it gave Scott pride in the person he’d become. Days off were considered punishment.  

That was until that scrawny parasite Rowan came along and ruined everything. 

The two were like kids, always trying to one up each other. Most of the time it was a distraction, a bit of fun, but their little games could get out of hand. Rowan had no shame when it came to baiting the temperamental sadist in front of influential eyes. Nor did he care about consequences when he’d fucked his way through the few ponygirls The Manor housed. Paying customers were meant to come first, with little tolerance for sloppy seconds. As for Stefan, his mind would wander, dreaming up and executing his plans for revenge when he should have been focused elsewhere. That, or making a fool out of himself, like this, stoned out of his mind. Scott much preferred it when he only had one difficult person to deal with. 

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Stefan’s face whose pupils were like saucers, heavily dilated. He’d quieted for the moment, regarding the younger man with a slack-jawed, lop-sided smile. Stefan just lie there, idly stroking his own chest with the unbound hand. His usual look of rage or predatory glee absent, replaced by what could only be described as longing. Facial features in configurations that didn’t come naturally to an unpredictable sadist. 

Scott’s heart skipped a beat, a tingling warmth coursing through him at the sight. If only the yearning he saw looking back at him was real.

The long-suffering servant squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the ache in his heart. This feeling, loving thing wasn’t the man he’d fallen for. That one was strong, almighty, invincible. Yet, he couldn’t deny the draw this version offered – reciprocation –  the one thing he wanted most. 

Taking a deep breath, Scott opened his eyes and focused on the task at hand. Keeping his master safe. He put a knee on the bed grabbing his right wrist, a little harder than he should have. If Stefan noticed the rough treatment, or understood what was happening, it didn’t show. As Scott forced his hand upwards, Stefan let out a long, heavenly sound of enjoyment. With a quick series of motions, the grumbling servant secured him to the headboard’s upper rail. 

“AH!” Scott cried, jumping back, startled by the feel of Stefan’s other hand on his thigh. Engrossed in the feel of Scott’s bare skin, he was exploring a small patch above his knee.

He looked down at the man’s fascinated eyes, obsessed and oblivious to the quickened breaths of his servant.

It was such a strange sensation, this gentle touch, from a man he couldn’t imagine capable. Scott grimaced and shut his eyes, as if it could halt the sudden awakening in his groin.

It hardly seemed necessary to tie up the other wrist. The man wasn’t going anywhere. Even if he wanted to, he doubted he would break the first bond in his current state.

Scott carefully removed Stefan’s hand, placing it to the side. His eyes squeezed further shut, unable to bear to see the yearning in the ones below him. Yet, he could not back away. The pull of this man’s desire forbade him from retreat. With quivering lips, he turned his back to his spaced-out employer and sat down on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.   

Robbed of his new tactile pleasure, Stefan sought out another in the small of Scott’s back, sending a shudder through the young man’s whole self.

“You smell like lavender. I love lavender” came a sigh from behind.

Scott wrinkled his nose, skeptical of the ridiculous words. Since when did Stefan like flowers?

“You put them everywhere” Stefan continued, lost in a happy memory. “I was sick. I had that fever.”

Scott twisted in place, surprised the man remembered anything at all from those few days. He was barely conscious most of the time.

“You put them everywhere because you know I love them.”

Actually, he hadn’t. He’d been grasping at straws trying to find a way to calm Stefan’s delirium. He’d been in a lot of pain and scared, though he would later fail to recall that. 

Stefan looked into his eyes with abject adoration then moved on to his bicep, exploring the differences between his leg, back and forearm.

“You’re always trying to get my attention. Wearing that cream, because you know I like it.”

Scott felt a deep chill as a row of goosebumps appeared on his arm, giving his inebriated employer a new fascination. These weren’t the delusions of an altered mind at all. Stefan had reacted to the scent back then, finding it soothing, but Scott hadn’t realized it. He’d tried so many different things at the time, Stefan’s recovery could have been attributed to any one of them. It must have been there though, in his mind somewhere, because one day he selected a lavender scented moisturizer in place of his usual, more masculine choices. He’d been using it ever since. A part of him, somewhere deep inside, had hoped the object of his affections would notice and like it.

How had Stefan so effectively hidden the fact that he had? 

His stunned face must have made an impression because the dom had shifted his interest from the curious bumps to Scott’s rapt expression. 

“I’ve seen you watching me” he said, his hand poised in mid-air as if his words were too important to be lost to another sensory distraction. “You smile when you think I don’t see you.”

Stefan then fell silent, regarding his aide for a moment before shuffling up to a sitting position.

Following those brown rimmed massive pupils, Scott turned even further around, until mostly on the bed, unable to tear himself away, clinging with a panicked grip to his words. How much did Stefan know of this infatuation? 

“You’re in love with me.”

Terror filled the servant’s mind, his heart hammering, his body frozen.  He knew? All this time and he knew?

“I have a secret too” Stefan whispered with a widening smile, lifting a finger to his lips in a partnering gesture to his words.

“W-what is it?” Scott replied as if in a trance before remembering to add “Sir!”

Stefan took his free hand and extended it anew, reaching for the servant’s cheek, drawing his fingertips down to his quivering lips with a feather light touch. He then leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

“I like you too.”

Scott let out an involuntary cry, shutting his eyes as if they could block out the words. “Sir, please.”

“We can be together” Stefan promised, his hot breath moistening the skin of Scott’s cheek. He then dropped his hand back onto the aide’s thigh, sliding it under the loincloth that did little to hide Scott’s stiffening erection.

Scott cried out again, louder this time, gripping the edge of the bed. His chest rose and fell, overwhelmed, every part of him aching with need and desire. His mind screamed, torn between desperately needing to get out of the man’s reach and desperately wanting to be in it. Those eyes, those huge eyes fixated on him, entranced, longing for him. He’d spent night after night imagining this, abusing himself raw at the thought of it. 

It was more than he could take when Stefan’s lips brushed his own as he wrapped his hand around the boy’s sex, breathing the words “Make love to me.”

Scott flung himself away with a strangled cry, falling to the floor. Terrified to still be so near, he scrambled to his feet, stumbling backwards, tears welling up in his eyes. Every one of his employer’s words revealed a truth he’d only dreamed of. One that would no doubt be concealed once more in the morning, buried deep within the man that refused to feel.

If he surrendered to his heart and carnal desires, Stefan would remember every embrace, their bodies, beaded with sweat, pressed against each other. He would know of penetration and the orgasmic cries that had issued from their lips. Even if the memory was vague, it would still be there, and he would not see himself as the cause. His humiliation would be vast, the magnitude of his rage beyond anything Scott had seen before.

The slave would be driven out, beaten, broken, and destroyed. The furious God, seeking total absolution, would stop at nothing to ensure his silence. Stefan had the means and drive to make him disappear in more ways than one if it would help erase what had happened.

Scott would give up his eyes, his limbs, the very blood from his veins to slip into Stefan’s arms and give in, but could not bear losing him.

Grimacing with anguish, he punched himself hard in his aching groin, desperate to quell its enthused response. When the first blow did nothing, he kept hitting it again, bellowing out his frustration. 

Stefan watched the display, saddened at the sudden distance between them.

“Don’t do that,” he cooed, reaching out his arm to beckon him back. “Come here. Touch me.”

Scott lifted his head, whimpering. The words were tearing him apart. 

“Touch me,” the writhing thing pleaded, his eyes burning with desire..

He could leave. Just leave the room. Let Stefan bliss himself out. He’d come back in the morning to untie him.

He wanted to, but his body refused to move. In his heart, he knew he had to stay. Without any idea about how much of the drug the man had taken, or if it would have an adverse effect on him at some point, Scott decided it was best not to go. Besides, Stefan could also untie himself at any point, and end up back where he started, soiling his name, destroying his business. 

This 24-year-old ‘boy’ had dedicated his life to this man thirteen years his senior.  He would not fail him now. If something went wrong, Scott had to be there to help him, to keep him safe. Trembling, Scott dragged a chair into the open, setting it as far from the bed as he could. He could stay right here, keep an eye on Stefan, make sure he’s all right. 

“Make love to me. Please. Don’t leave me here, please. Touch me. Let me touch you.”

Scott sat down to start his vigil, hands pressed tightly over his ears, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders quaking with tears.