School Days
“Ryan, I need you,” Paul said with a pinched tightness as he hovered by the door.
Paul was the head of the tech department. He was good with computers, but his skill ended there. He was universally loathed by the students, and Ryan’s opinion of Paul was closer to the students than the boxes of circuits and wires that purred in the man’s hands. Ryan hated to stereotype people, but Paul was the classic computer nerd whose social skills had never developed beyond anonymous chat rooms.
Ryan pasted on a happy face and looked up from the paper he was marking. “What’s up?”
“This.” Paul shoved a laptop at Ryan as if it were stolen merchandise and the police were close at his heels. “It’s disgusting.”
“What is disgusting?”
“Watch,” Paul whispered.
“Porn?” Ryan asked. Finding pornography on a student’s computer wasn’t uncommon. The school used blocking software, but students took their laptops into town or used their phone as a wireless hot spot and bypassed the security apparatus of the school.
“Disgusting.”
“All right. I’ll take a look at it. Whose computer is it?”
“Eli Grant’s.”
Ryan kept his face a studied neutral, but groaned inwardly. Eli was only a freshman, a short thin kid who looked closer to ten than fourteen. Supposedly it was a family tradition to go to boarding school, but Eli had started in spring quarter, suggesting a disaster at his previous school silenced with money and influence. As far as Ryan could tell the boy hated boarding school and any long standing family traditions with a passion. Eli hung back from everything, hiding against the wall with his backpack as a protective shield and his eyes wide behind his thick glasses. In the five weeks since the quarter started, Ryan and Blade together had pried ten words out of Eli, and they had been nothing but a mumbled hi.
“I’ll talk to him,” Ryan said, intentionally projecting calmness and letting a trace of his own dominance bubble to the surface. He didn’t want to discuss this with Paul. The man struck him as a prude and a voyeur. Paul didn’t need to salivate over some badly made video again.
“I sent an email to the counseling service and the head.”
Double great! Paul had already kicked this into official channels; there would be no quiet talk and a suggestion to be more discreet. “Thank you, Paul. I’ll make sure the situation is handled.”
“It’s just sick.” Paul pursed his lips and shook his head, upstanding citizen horrified.
“Paul, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” Ryan fought the urge to push Paul from his office, all pure and perfect, and the man had probably been in a sweat with his hand on his crotch when he saw the video.
“I’ve cued the files for you.”
“I have used a computer before,” Ryan said with a forced smile and patted the laptop on his desk. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out. Shut the door as you leave.” Subtle not, but grabbing Paul by his shirt collar would be worse.
Ryan sighed and allowed himself to run his hand through his hair as the door now firmly shut out the rest of the world. The policy on pornography was insanely naive, and he had to be the bad guy and enforce it. Porn was out there. Forbidding it just made it more enticing. It would be smarter to have a supervised porn festival with bright lights and discussion about entertainment and exploration and understanding what was safe. Ryan flicked open the computer and clicked on the first movie in the window.
Shit! He’d been expecting breasts and moaning, not a boy tied to a frame and the sound of a whip. Ryan browsed the remaining movies, all gay, all S&M of some sort. Oh, this was going to be fun. If this boy was bent this way and it wasn’t a passing curiosity, he needed taught how to manage his urges and how to do it safely, not frightened into burying it deeper and then getting hurt. Ryan had known at fourteen. He hadn’t breathed a word, even to his best friend, until he was sixteen, and he’d been in college before he’d tried more than a cheesy shout to kneel or a harsh hand tangled in his boyfriend’s hair. Ryan knew he’d been lucky. Gavin had spotted him and guided him safely into his kink, but he remembered that unbelievable fear and loneliness when he first realized he was different and somehow marked unacceptable to many. Gavin had been so natural and easy about it, more playful than the strictness of the GMB. Milton was a good man, but he reflected his upbringing and what Ryan would consider forced acceptance of a rigid counterculture. Milton was a good dominant, a great dominant, but he upheld his crazy rules with as much fierceness as any of the most staid conservatives fighting for more church and less taxes. Ryan was a free spirit at heart. Life was supposed to feel good and busting this poor, shy kid just felt bad.
Eli would be in study hall now. Ryan forced himself up. He’d pull the kid and have a little chat. Maybe he could mitigate this before the vultures attacked full force. Sarah from counseling had a good heart, but she didn’t do dominance and submission. It had taken Ryan hours to explain his addition of a power exchange module in the Sex-Ed curriculum. Blade had suggested a lovely demo or at least a display of his welts.
“She’ll get that you’re not killing me. The beautiful, smiling hunk who bakes bread couldn’t possibly be an abusive bastard.”
Ryan had shaken his head. “I’m not in the closet, but I don’t feel a need to wrap myself in a banner and parade down the street.” He had given Sarah a book about power exchanges along with the card of the author. Don wasn’t shy, and he reeked of power even as he kissed the boots of his current dom of the week. He exhausted doms. Don loved his submission, but it was all extremes and craziness and tucked away after a few days of wildness.
As a freshman, study periods were supervised, but not in the auditorium with rigid rows and desks that Ryan remembered from high school. Eli was sprawled out in a bean bag chair, a math text in his lap. Ryan nodded at the proctor and tapped Eli on the shoulder.
“Come with me.”
Eli startled. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he jerked his eyes upward in a wavering uncertainty.
“Shh. Don’t disturb the others. I just want to talk.” Ryan smiled, letting reassurance slip into his gaze.
Eli followed silently as they walked across campus and back to Ryan’s office. Ryan wished he could put his arm around the boy’s shoulder and draw him close. Eli was hiding, trailing behind almost out of sight. He did it with his classmates, the invisible boy fading into walls. It was a survival strategy.
“Deep breath,” Ryan said as they entered his office. “Sit. Would you like a Coke or water? I drank all the juice. Sorry.”
Eli shrugged and stared down at his hands. His eyes had caught his laptop on Ryan’s desk and immediately cut away.
“Yes, that’s what this is about.” Ryan let his eyes rest on the student’s laptop before looking back at Eli. “I know my reputation here is as the enforcer, but I don’t kill people for being careless about deleting files. Are you sure you don’t want a Coke? I know the soda police are intrusive with freshmen.”
“OK,” Eli said softly.
Ryan waited for Eli to pop the top and take a long swallow. “I’ve obviously seen what’s on your computer, so do you want to talk about it?”
Eli shook his head, his hands still against the can, his eyes focused on something in front of him and to the right that only he could see.
“So why’d you get thrown out of the last school? Same thing?”
“We told you boarding school is a family tradition.”
“In spring quarter? You and your family must think I’m pretty stupid. You’re gay, you’re kinky, and you’re terribly indiscreet about what you leave on your computer. The first two are well and good; the last one I have to punish you for. Help me out here and tell me why I’m doing this. I’m not dumb enough to believe you’re here as part of a family tradition that was forgotten until the school year was three-quarters over, and I don’t believe you’re dumb enough to leave pornography on your computer and take it in for repair. So did you want me to find it? Do you want to be expelled?”
“I took a whip to school.” Eli lifted his head and stared at Ryan. His eyes were gray and swirling with a determination and anger that was usually hidden behind lowered lashes and slumped shoulders.
“What kind?”
“Signal whip.”
“Do you know how to use it?”
“I could only practice when my parents were gone. I can crack it some.”
“Ever hit someone?”
“Wanted to.” Eli took another drink of Coke and crushed the can in his hand.
“Never use a whip when you’re angry. You were lucky you weren’t arrested. I take it I don’t need to ask which side appeals to you unless you think you’re a switch.”
Eli stared. Ryan could see the intelligence behind those eyes, an intelligence that had led the boy to the perfect disguise; the nerdy and shy didn’t swing whips. Not engaging had been victory. Eli was small with thick glasses and a strong student. He wouldn’t fit a high school boy’s definition of dominant. Shielding his true nature had been his only path.
“I don’t switch,” Eli said with icy calm, the mumble gone from his voice.
“Much better.” Ryan smiled, no longer the totally kind teacher but a faint whiff of what lay underneath. “You wanted to confirm your theory?”
“You and Mr. Zath are rather obvious.”
“To those so inclined. Eli, you’re fourteen. I am in a position of authority as your teacher. There are many areas I cannot speak about, not now and not without a neutral witness. I don’t hide who and what I am. You should have come to me honestly and openly and asked. I would have told you what I could. Now you’ve made it hard. I have to punish you for breaking school rules, and I have to fend those off who will think you need counseled out of your dominant tendencies.”
“They’ve tried.”
“Tried what?”
“To counsel me out of my dominant tendencies.” Eli shrugged. “I faked it.”
Ryan shook his head, biting back his automatic response of brat. He couldn’t be the dominant here; he had to be the teacher, the neutral authority figure, no matter how much his body screamed and cursed his need for restraint. “Denial, even in fun, isn’t healthy. I may look ancient to you, but I remember figuring out where I stood and it wasn’t easy.”
“At least you look the part.” Eli pushed up his glasses. “I look like the boy who gets his head shoved in the toilet.”
“You don’t.”
“Rumor is you bust heads about bullying.”
“You’re not bullied even without my rumored head busting.”
“I stay on the outside. Bullies pick on those who are desperate to fit in. I don’t care about their stupid games.”
“You know a lot about the dynamics?”
“I watch. When you’re weird and small, you get plenty of time to watch.”
“You’ve been watching, so what am I going to do about your shenanigans?”
Eli’s eyes dropped, and for the first time he nervously stoked his thumb down the Coke can. “Don’t know. You’re fair. Even the kids who don’t like you say you’re fair.”
“This has already been tossed over my head. You are going to have to talk to the headmaster and someone in counseling. I cannot change that. You will use your computer only with direct supervision from either myself or Mr. Zath until the end of the school year, and I will confiscate your phone. You can call your parents from my phone with me in earshot. You will also do Saturday detention for the next five weeks, and you’re with me for the next two weeks.”
“Two weeks?”
Ryan nodded. In school detention with him was hated. He escorted the student everywhere. Living in a teacher’s back pocket was dreaded more than a short expulsion. “You violated the computer use policy which is part of the honor code. There will be those who will want you expelled.”
“It’s worse than expulsion.”
“Harder.”
“Everyone will know.”
“It will give you cachet with your fellow students, and do you think we can stop the rumors that we found S&M porn on your computer? People have probably already heard.”
Eli shuddered. “I didn’t think of that.”
“I expected not, but it’s out of the bag now. You wanted me to know. Now you have to deal with four hundred of your least close friends knowing.”
*****
Ryan groaned silently as he saw the headmaster’s secretary hurrying toward him. It wasn’t her specifically that caused the groan; Ryan enjoyed her company and sly sense of humor. It was the fact that the headmaster wanted him again. He was beginning to feel as if he was living in that dark paneled room with the headmaster staring at him, his face furrowed with confusion and his eyes bleak and desperate. Ultimately the poor man had capitulated under Ryan’s pressure and hadn’t expelled Eli, his first instinct, but he’d been deeply disturbed by the videos.
“You say this boy isn’t dangerous. I’m responsible for many children.” The headmaster had leaned forward on his elbows as if getting closer to Ryan might help him discern the truth.
Beady eyed with his suit jacket flapping on his narrow frame, Ryan could see why the children persisted on calling the man a vulture. It was unfair to Robert because he was a genuinely decent man. Only he was the product of a genteel class that had disappeared a generation ago. His world didn’t include whips and ball gags and sweaty naked men.
“I’m not dangerous. You know what I do for a second job.”
They never spoke of Ryan’s proclivities, but Gordon travelled in the same financial circles as Robert’s family and several of the board members. A quiet word had been said alone and over a glass of sherry surrounded by art work that was worth more than Ryan and Blade would earn together in a lifetime.
“Do you..?” Robert hadn’t been able to manage the rest of the words.
“Robert, it might be best if you didn’t know the exact details. My relationship with Blade is consensual and pleasurable. The videos, well, they are videos. They’re designed to excite and most of it’s not real. The players are paid actors.” Ryan hadn’t said he’d recognized Blade in one. It had been at a seminar several months ago, and people had been asked not to film. Fortunately it was only Blade’s back. Ryan had recognized the pattern of whip strokes and the three freckles on Blade’s right shoulder.
“I’ll let you handle it,” Robert had said slowly. “I don’t understand your private life, and ultimately it is your private life, but I do understand your role in this school. We are not in the most elite tier of boarding schools, and we enroll a percentage of boys who have faced difficulties elsewhere. You and your husband are fabulous with them. The boys both respect and adore you which is a rare combination. I’ll continue to pretend that I am ignorant of your hobbies, and I’ll trust that boy’s future in your hands. Straighten him out.”
Robert had as always been good to his word. Ryan handled young Eli, and the counseling had even been arranged with someone who was kink aware after a quiet word to the parents. Eli was a good kid, young and impatient, but he’d do well in the world once he grew up.
“You need me, right?” Ryan said closing the gap as the billowing flowered skirts approached him.
“Don’t we always?” Lily smiled conspiratorially and winked. “You know you do half of Robert’s job.”
“He’s a good man.”
“Only he should have been born a century ago.”
“What awful catastrophe has happened now?”
“No catastrophe.” Lily smiled brightly. “Friends here to visit you. They were most insistent on seeing you immediately, and they have the green.” Lily rubbed her fingers together on her right hand as if she was counting money.
“Behave. You don’t have to hit everyone up for a donation.”
“I don’t think they’d miss a hundred thousand from their bank account.”
“Landon and Gordon?”
“A Mr. Graves and a Mr. Lewis.”
“Nope, they wouldn’t miss the money. What’s in desperate need of funds now?”
“The scholarship fund. We’d like to go need blind in our admissions. It would add to the quality and diversity of the student body.”
“Don’t start your sales pitch on me,” Ryan said with a smile. “My spare ten cents won’t help.”
“Will you ask?”
“I’ll think about it. Don’t bat your eyes at me. I’m sure they’re luscious, but I swing the other way.”
“Pity. Blade is a lucky man.”
“I’m the lucky one.”
Lily smiled and headed for her desk as they entered the building. She ran the school, but she knew how to play the role of demure secretary as long as austere clothing wasn’t required. She didn’t give up her billowing colorful skirts for anything.
“She found you,” Gordon rose and shook Ryan’s hand. Landon was less proper. He grabbed Ryan in a full hug and stretched on his tiptoes to kiss both his cheeks.
“Gentlemen,” Robert said, clearing this throat, “I suggest the conference room.”
“This way,” Ryan led them down the hall to the conference room. “Landon, I do try to respect the man’s personal sense of decorum. He tries to respect my tastes.”
“Poor Robert, he’s living in the nineteenth century,” Landon said with a laugh. “We heard about your little excitement with a student. Turn out OK?”
“For all his outward rigidity, Robert is a compassionate man.”
“Ryan saved the day,” Landon said, his smile bright. “You’re going to give dominants a good name.”
“Landon, you didn’t come here just to tease me. Why are you two visiting?”
Landon pretended to think. His eyes wandered across the painting and photos of the school from a single brick building to an artist’s conceptualization of the future. “That will need money,” Landon, said his eyes resting on the drawing.
“Everything needs money. If you’re feeling generous, the scholarship fund was suggested.”
“Do you think it’s a worthy cause?” Gordon asked.
“It would improve the academic quality of our students. The development office will never admit it, but right now we’re the school for the rich who can’t get into the more prestigious schools either because they aren’t the most intellectually gifted or because they have some baggage on their record. It would be good for everyone to have more students whose parents didn’t own a yacht.”
“It’s becoming quite well-known in those yacht owning circles,” Gordon said dryly “that you and Mr. Zath are good with the difficult and different boys. I wouldn’t want that mission to end.”
“I believe they are compatible. And shouldn’t such services be available to those who don’t frequent your clubs? The wealthy already have many advantages.”
“Very well, my good socialist, we’ll seed the waters for your cause. Now for our main agenda. Landon and I are considering a substantial investment in certain social clubs in England. We were hoping to entice you and Blade to spend a portion of your summer vacation inspecting the facilities. You will, of course, be appropriately remunerated for your time.”
“Have you been investigating the dismal level of our bank account?”
“I am aware of the salaries in such institutions,” Gordon said smoothly. “I am also aware that for Blade there is significant stress in having to schedule his pleasures around the acute hearing of teenagers. You’re both very good at this, but you need time for yourselves also. You know what you both need. Milton had the GMB hire you last year, but you donated the checks to the Texas fund.”
“We earn a living. I don’t need your charity,” Ryan said, clipping off each word in an effort to contain the flare of anger.
“Both Milton and Sheldon are paid by the Green Mountain Boys. It should be no different for you. However, I can assure you there is not a whiff of charity in this new project. Its intent is to make money and to relieve our boredom. Landon and I are not good at retirement.”
“We suck at it,” Landon said.
“Your language, boy,” Gordon growled.
“I was just trying to make Ryan feel at home. He might be more eager to take the project if he had a little boy to save.”
“Gordon,” Ryan said with an amused flash of his blue eyes, “might I suggest a tighter regime for your boy?”
“Indeed, I can see I have been too generous. Discuss it with Blade. Let us know this week. Your decision will not impact our contribution to the scholarship fund.”
“Thank you,” Ryan said, standing up. “I need to get back to work. We’ll let you know.”
*****
“Free. Free. Free at last.” Blade danced through their dormitory apartment, throwing his blazer over the sofa and ripping his tie off. “Is there some rule that graduations are only held when it’s broiling hot, and wool is the required fabric? I thought I was going to be a puddle. Five minutes longer and the headmaster would have thought he’d hired a stripper.” Blade unfastened his top few buttons and flung his shirt over his head.
“Nipple rings. T-shirt,” Ryan said as he pulled a blue polo shirt over his head.
“You’re such a prude,” Blade grumbled. “I feel like I married the church auxiliary.”
“Patience, whelp. We’ll have fun tonight.”
“You have something planned?” Blade spun around; his green eyes sparkled like the most expensive gems. He was the most precious gem ever as far as Ryan was concerned. This was his boy from the tip of his red hair to his big toe.
“What sort of dominant would I be if I hadn’t planned something for my special boy?”
“A cruel one.”
“You might think I’m more cruel after this evening.” Ryan gave Blade a wicked grin. “It will only be worse for you if you keep asking me. Patience.”
“You know I have no patience,” Blade whined and wormed his way under Ryan’s arms. “Tell me.”
“Never.” Ryan swatted Blade’s rump. “Get, boy. We need to help the masses exit for summer.”
“What am I? A slave boy?”
Ryan looked up and down his lithe partner as if taking an appraisal. “Naked with only a chain around your neck and a jewel in your navel would be lovely, but we must work before we can play.”
“Tote that barge,” Blade grumbled and returned the swat to Ryan’s ass. “No daydreaming, boy. Keep your mind on your task.”
Ryan laughed and mocked wrestled Blade against the wall. “Careful, slave boy. I’ve heard that stripes are in.”
“They’ll go pretty with my hair.” Bladed batted his long lashes and fluffed his hair into a mod style with his fingers. “I’m ready, dear, whenever you are.”
“You’re impossible. Get out there before I ravish you right here.”
“Ravish me.” Blade threw his arms around Ryan and jumped up, snatching a kiss as he slid back to ground level.”
“Enough, boy.” Ryan grabbed Blade’s wrist and force marched them both into the hall. They had duties; they could manage another few hours.
Ryan knew the drill. He carted the largest suitcases to the waiting cars and shook hands with enough parents for multiple golf foursomes at all the finest country clubs. He smiled at the boys and wished them a good summer. Blade worked one side of the hallway as Ryan worked the other. Blade was the real charmer. He always had at least one mother giggling like a schoolgirl and looking longingly at Ryan’s beautiful boy.
Ryan walked through the dorm, picking up litter and collecting the forgotten odds and ends he’d keep until next year: one soccer cleat, a drawer full of shirts, a watch.
“Boys,” Ryan said, startled by the shadows against the half drawn blinds of the back stairwell. “Please tell me you have your clothes on. It’s only one hour to vacation.”
“It’s all right, Mr. Fisher. We were only kissing, and we’ve got our shirts back on.”
“Eli, come here and bring your friend with you.” Ryan watched as Eli strode forward, his chin up and his arm possessively around the shoulders of a towheaded boy with a sunburnt face and frightened blue eyes. “Would you like to introduce me, Eli? It’s good manners.”
“Kite, this is Mr. Fisher. He’s king of the jungle.”
“Kite?” Ryan asked gently.
“His first name’s Adolphus. You’d go by Kite too.” Eli kissed his friend’s cheek, a quick peck with a sharp look back at Ryan. “We can’t be blamed for parental stupidity, giving him such a name.”
“Careful, Eli. I’m still teach for another hour, and I don’t want to start your summer on a bad note.”
Eli rolled his eyes and dressed his face in an elaborate pout. “You’re so mean.”
“I can be,” Ryan said dangerously, letting his natural dominance bubble around his teacher personality.
Eli was a smart boy. His expression sharpened for a second before he looked up at Ryan and mouthed a near silent apology. “Sorry.”
“There’s a time and place for that behavior, but it isn’t appropriate with me as your teacher and de facto parent during the school year. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Eli said quietly, but extremely clearly.
“Thank you. Now have you shown your friend where you’re going to live next year?”
“It was locked.”
“Dorm police have the master swipe card.” Ryan pulled the card from his pocket and waved it around playfully. “Do you want to give Kite the grand tour?”
“Yes, please.” Eli sounded gleeful; the child he really was winning the battle for a moment with the budding dominant personality.
“Let’s go.” Ryan climbed the narrow stairs with the boys trooping behind him. Eli had traded something for the winning number in the housing lottery and had chosen the attic room with a roommate to be named later. Ryan suspected he’d bartered his brains for the ticket. The lottery winner was vacant between the ears and not in Eli’s very tiny circle of friends.
“Cool, isn’t it?” Eli raced across the floor and looked out the dormer windows to the campus below. “It’s a double; I don’t have a roommate yet. It’d be great if you were here.” Eli caught Kite’s hand and pulled him close. “No parents. Nothing. Just us.”
“Eli, don’t pressure your friend.”
“He’s miserable at home,” Eli shot back. “He’ll be much happier here.”
“You’d be much happier, but you have a responsibility toward him, and you know what I mean. Is it the right thing? Because ultimately you could convince him even if it’s not the right thing.”
“Mr. Fisher--”
“Responsibilities. I see the dynamic.”
“Jeez, I want him here.”
“I know you do. The question is what’s best for both of you. Kite, do you want to go to boarding school before Eli convinces you it’s as good as running off and joining the circus?”
Kite’s eyes fell on Eli as if he were waiting for his friend to answer the question. He stepped behind Eli and ducked his head.
“Eli, step into the hall for me. I need to talk to Kite alone.” Ryan saw Eli turn to face him and square his shoulders. “I know what I’m doing,” Ryan said, letting a slight growl appear in his voice. “He needs to answer this question alone.”
“I wouldn’t pressure him.” Eli’s voice was suddenly high, back to a voice of a child.
“Not intentionally or at least not maliciously, but it is the way of the world. Out in the hall with you.”
Eli squeezed Kite’s shoulder and walked out the door with a sharp bang. Kite’s eyes followed his friend and only slowly turned back toward Ryan.
“He went.”
“I take it you’re not used to Eli obeying his teachers.”
Kite nodded, his eyes cutting back toward the door.
“We had it out in the beginning. We came to an understanding. Your boyfriend’s a good kid; he’s just wired to resist authority, and he has hobbies that make many good people very nervous.”
Kite flushed at the word boyfriend and shoved his hands in his pockets. He walked to the window and looked out. “What do you know?”
“Not as a teacher, not as Mr. Fisher, I know he’s a budding dominant and you’re taking the submissive role. Does that answer your question?”
Kite nodded, his eyes still watching the campus below. “I want to come. I haven’t told him because he was happy here. I didn’t want him sabotaging himself to rescue me.” Kite licked his lips and curled deeper into himself. “School was awful after he left. I don’t want to ever go back.”
“Were you getting bullied?”
The nod was tiny, almost invisible.
“Do you want me to talk to your parents?”
“No!” Kite practically shouted. “My dad already thinks I should just toughen up. I don’t want him to know. They’re afraid of Eli. They know about the whip.”
“If they’re afraid of Eli, how are we going to get you here?”
“I failed out of school. They said they wouldn’t take me back. They won’t send me to public school. That leaves here.”
“F’s don’t exactly go over well here either.”
“I have a near perfect score on my secondary school admissions tests. I failed on purpose. It wasn’t easy.”
Ryan sat down on the bare mattress and looked out beyond Kite to the green trees and the uncomplicated blue sky. “You will not do that again. I know you both think you have the world figured out, but intentionally damaging your future is not it. You weren’t my responsibility, and I will not belabor the point, but, I repeat, you will not do it again. Now go get the other half of your dynamic duo.”
“That’s it?” Even hidden behind the fringe of near white hair, Kite’s eyes were huge and surprised. He’d been expecting a fight or at least some shouting. “Eli said you were way cool.”
“He’ll also tell you I’m very serious about what I say. You try that here, and I will be all over you. I am the dean responsible for discipline, and I take my position and responsibilities seriously. Go on now. Get your friend out of the hall where I know he has his ear pressed to the keyhole.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Don’t bet me there.” Ryan strode quickly to the door and pushed it open. “Told you so,” he said over his shoulder at Kite. “Get in here, you mess.” Ryan pulled Eli in the door, keeping his grip soft. “You heard most of that, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Ryan heard the challenge in Eli’s voice and smiled softly. “It might not seem fair, but I still have many responsibilities toward both of you as minors. You both answer to me and Mr. Zath and don’t forget it.”
“He’s mine,” Eli growled, open challenge in his voice.
“I’ll fight you over what that means later, but right now you have a responsibility toward him over the summer. Make ‘He’s mine.’ mean something. I want you both back here in September in one piece. Let me know if I can be of assistance convincing the parental units. You have our number.”
“We’ve got that covered.” Eli’s smile was huge and bright and his arms automatically went around Kite, pulling him close.
“Teacher,” Kite hissed.
“Mr. Fisher’s not that stupid. Even if he doesn’t see it, he’ll know it’s happening.”
“Thanks for the ringing endorsement. Now go have a good summer.”
Ryan watched the two boys leave from the high window. They’d separated, putting appropriate space between themselves as they entered the quad and met up with Eli’s parents. Eli looked back over shoulder and waved once, his eyes looking up at the high windows. Ryan waved not sure if he could be seen or not. Ryan waited until they faded to a speck in a far parking lot before turning from the window. Those boys were still so young and so vulnerable, just finding the edges of their dynamic. They belonged here, safe and protected, guarded by those who understand.
Impossible, Ryan chided himself. He had to let them go. It was summer and they didn’t want wrapped in cotton. Bumps and bruises were all part of learning. They were kids; they didn’t need being beat up by the outside world. Ryan tried to remember himself at that age. He wasn’t Eli; that was for sure. Ryan hadn’t started to search for an understanding for why he felt different until he was older. At that age, he’d buried himself in sports. Anything he could play, he’d played. Exhaustion had taken the edge off his hormones and the nagging sense of strangeness.
Blade had told Ryan that he hadn’t really known until Milton had taken him in and put the world right. “I was a disaster in my teenage years. The world was spinning too fast and in the wrong direction. Milton got his hands on me at nineteen and put everything right. He wrestled my world to a halt with his bare hands. I wish he’d grabbed me at fourteen. It would have saved everyone from my one man disaster squad.”
“Your son is not a disaster.” This was an old argument. Blade carried the guilt of his youthful indiscretions. Heath was a happy boy, content with his three fathers. True he spent more time with his stepdad, but Blade was more involved in his life than some of the parents Ryan met here. The child also had Milton. Milton’s idea of family was protective and all encompassing. The child would never want for a gentle authoritarian figure if needed. The young charges here thought Ryan was authoritarian; they’d never met a Brown man in his full glory. Milton would be the nidus of legends in a high school. Even young Eli would stand up straight and find the word sir in his vocabulary.
Ryan shut the door behind himself and trotted down the stairs. This wasn’t the time for brooding. They were supposed to leave for London in little over a day, and he still had his redheaded submissive. Ryan had told Eli to watch over Kite, and Ryan was leaving Blade bored and desperate. Some dominant and mentor he was.
Ryan shoved his apartment door open and skidded to a halt. Blade was on his knees, his body perfect. His red hair glinted in the sunlight. The paleness of his skin contrasted against the dark floor. Blade didn’t look up. He stayed in beautiful kneeling rest. His leash was snapped to his collar and curled down his chest. In a broad circle around him, each precisely placed, was an array of implements. Ryan bent and picked up the crop, slapping it against his leg once.
“Slave, do you deserve this?”
“I deserve my master’s desires,” Blade said, his voice as smooth as honey.
Ryan stroked the crop down Blade’s chest and teased the nipple rings, watching the shiver shake his boy’s lean frame. “List your sins, boy.”
“I dreamed of murdering the headmaster during commencement. I haven’t cleaned out my desk for three months. I don’t tidy our home. I’m argumentative. The flesh of my ass is too white. I’ve failed to please.”
Ryan lifted Blade’s chin with the end of the crop. “You always please, but I agree your flesh is far too white. Your master has been neglectful. Up. We will remedy the situation immediately.” Ryan sat on the sofa, feeling the worn springs bite into the back of his thigh and pulled Blade over his lap.
His boy landed with a soft thump. He was exquisite in his compliance, thighs spread, his beautiful creamy ass waiting for attention. Ryan stroked down the spine, circled the delightful opening once and dove between the thighs. He cupped the balls and stroked the half hard cock. His fingers played in the crinkly pubic brush.
“Good boys are hairless. You’ve been neglecting yourself.” Ryan didn’t insist that Blade keep himself shaved. It was his choice, but Ryan had heard the words earlier. Blade wanted punished, and Ryan wanted to shift away from the more serious words he’d heard from Blade about failure to please and failure to serve. They were tired and strung out. Those needed to be approached after rest, or at least Ryan needed the rest. He’d heard the request enough in many forms. He knew he couldn’t ignore it forever, but he wasn’t Milton. Ryan played hard; he didn’t cross into that chasm beyond play.
“Yes, Ryan,” Blade said softly
Yes, Ryan. His boy was serious. In the game it would have been yes master. “Blade?”
“I need this.”
The plea was raw and raked across Ryan’s soul. Oh, God, shit, his boy needed this, wanted this. Ryan had to find this in himself. “You’ve been neglecting yourself. Your ass is white and your spirit is in disarray. I won’t have this. You do not neglect your needs.”
“Yes, Ryan.” Blade’s head lowered a fraction more. He was the offering to the god of punishment. He wanted this.
Ryan started slowly, his hand turning the white skin to a blushing pink. Blade was quiet through the gentle slaps, his chest rising and falling evenly. Ryan strengthened his stroke, warming the skin into the realm of pain. He laid a half dozen strokes on the thighs before the first whimper and wiggle to drive the punishing hand elsewhere. Ryan switched sides, concentrating until he heard a half suppressed groan and Blade struggle to escape the fire building in the hot flesh.
“We have a long way to go. Many sins to wash away.” Ryan tightened his restraining arm and pummeled the ass of his beautiful boy. The cries were loud now and haunting, tinged with real rents in the soul. The tears were streaming down Blade’s face. His hands clutched a sofa cushion in desperation.
“I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll be a good boy for you.”
“A few more to make you remember your promises.” Ryan reached for the crop. With the precision of much practice, he laid down a series of welts.
“Sorry. Sorry.” An uncontrolled wail tore from Blade’s throat as the crop scorched his thigh. He lay sobbing and limp, giving everything, begging for everything to be taken.
Ryan growled a primal and uncontrolled urge rising in his chest. He stroked the hot skin. He stroked the pain he had caused. This was his prize. He had conquered all. He couldn’t wait. He threw his prize over the back of the sofa and in desperation freed himself from his confining shorts. His brain only half functioning, he found the lube and condoms in the nearby drawer on habit and muscle memory alone. One finger. Two fingers. Blade hissed at the quick intrusion. Ryan sank into his boy.
“Mine,” Ryan snarled and clamped his teeth onto the exposed shoulder. He ground into the hot ass, Blade’s whimpers music to his ears. He found Blade’s cock and stroked it hard. “Come now.”
“Aspirin. Shower.” Blade wiggled out from under Ryan’s heavy frame.
“Blade.” Ryan reached for his boy, stroking a finger down the tear strained cheek. “OK?”
“I will be once I can breathe. You’re heavy.”
“Sorry.” Ryan levered himself up, his eyes studying his handiwork now that his brain was beginning to function again. Blade was crimson from hips to almost his knees. Ugly wheals darkened the skin to purple every few centimeters. Bite marks littered his back and shoulders. “Blade.”
“Don’t. I need more. Let me have more. I need punished.”
“What on earth for?” Ryan sat up and pulled his shorts back on. He couldn’t take his eyes from the battered flesh in front of him. He played hard; they both did, but this had been primal, beyond his control. He still wanted to grab his boy and pull him close. He wanted to graze his teeth against the exposed throat, remind his boy who ultimately held his life, who he had forfeited everything to.
“Take it.” Blade hit his knees, his throat exposed, offering everything.
Ryan gripped the red hair, tipping the head back to an impossible angle. “Do you give it all up?”
“Yes. Yes. Master.”
Ryan’s fingers closed abound Blade’s throat. There would be marks tomorrow. He pressed his lips to Blade’s. He could feel Blade’s chest heaving against the double assault on his breathing. This was his; every molecule was his. He released the pressure and licked down the throat. His teeth grazed against the prominent veins. Blade was perfectly still, defenseless, his hands locked together behind his back. Trust. Absolute trust.
“My boy.” Ryan engulfed Blade in his arms. His body was the protection, the shield. He must keep his boy safe.
“Always and everywhere.”
“Always and everywhere,” Ryan repeated. They’d sort it all out later, but all he could do now was hold his prize.
