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James shifted a little, trying to make the cuffs as comfortable as possible. He couldn’t move much at all as his arms were bound behind his back and attached to cuffs on his ankles. There were other cuffs on his upper arms and his thighs, and also around his chest, but they were just there to keep him still and help the sense that he was bound and immobile. The only comfort he had was the cushion under his knees, but that was as kind as his master was willing to be.
The blindfold forced him to listen to Greg and Alex eating and talking around him. He wasn’t allowed to speak except to ask for food, and to thank Greg for feeding him. That was his punishment for yet another tantrum that his master had had to paddle him for in order to calm him down, but James didn’t care about that. He liked the pain. He felt he’d been properly punished after he’d been beaten.
But he hadn’t counted on enjoying this feeling of being bound and immobile as a punishment. He didn’t expect that it would force his mind to calm down and listen, but it did. He didn’t really know why. But then, Greg holding him tight in his big arms also calmed him down too, with that voice in his ear commanding him to be quiet and still. And Greg was always kind, too, when he did that. The paddling was the pain, and being held was the comforting, the calming down. It helped soothe the pain away and help him settle into subspace. And for some daft reason, he listened to him, and his body obeyed. Like now, when Greg leaned down to whisper to him.
“Stop squirming, James, you’ll just cramp your muscles,” Greg said, his voice soft with the perfect mix of warmth and harshness. It was an order, but it was a kind one.
James nodded, not daring to speak, and tried to get comfortable. Greg touched his head, ran his fingers through his hair, and James found himself letting his body go limp, relaxing into the restraints and letting them help support him, rather than fight them. The more he relaxed, the more he gave in to them. This was the time when he remembered his place, and how to find subspace again. Every now and then, if Greg was feeling kind, he would reach over and gently stroke his hair, and James wanted to lean into those sensations so much, but he knew that would be pushing it, so he kept still. His master might be kind to him now, but he was still being punished.
There was never a set point at which James would be fed. His dinner was not a priority. He would just have to wait until Greg told him he could ask for food, and then, well. His master would feed him immediately, or he would keep him waiting, and he would be fed as much food as Greg thought he deserved. James could also not refuse to eat what he’d been given, though at least Greg never fed him anything really disgusting. Greg saved that for Alex, who was willing to eat anything at all if his master told him to. James never understood why Alex liked being degraded like that so much, but any time he asked him about it, Alex just said he liked it and gave him that shy, blushing look, and just turned away from him, embarrassed.
But then he’d seen Alex being fed like this too, which was how he knew the kinds of things Greg fed him. The first time had been very strange, because Alex was just so passive. He never protested. He didn’t fight. He didn’t complain. He asked for food when Greg told him to, and he ate everything without question. And also, James noted, without throwing up later, which James was sure he’d have heard, but he didn’t. Alex just let things happen to him, and James didn’t understand it at all. But then Alex didn’t understand half of James’ kinks, either, and perhaps that was half the problem.
It wasn’t like they had nothing in common. They both liked pain, they both liked bruises, they both liked Greg being mean to them and insulting them. There were other kinks they didn’t share, but there was still a lot Greg could do to both of them at the same time and not risk turning one of them off. Indeed, Alex seemed to get off on being humiliated in James’ presence, like the very fact that there was another witness, and in particular James, who sometimes got permission to tease Alex about these things afterwards just to make the humiliation really sink in, just got Alex so worked up in all the right ways.
“Alright, you may ask for food now, James,” Greg said, breaking James out of his thoughts.
James was pleased, because he was actually quite hungry now. Kneeling took up a lot of energy. “Please, sir, may I have some food please?”
James wondered how long he would have to wait. He could hear, but he had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that Greg kept his hand on his back, on his head, just stroking him gently.
“Open wide, boy,” Greg said.
James opened his mouth, and his master fed him from his hand. It was meat of some kind, possibly lamb, with a sauce he couldn’t identify.
“Thank you for feeding me, sir,” James said once he’d swallowed.
Greg didn’t need to ask James to lick his fingers clean. James knew the drill by now, and he didn’t fight as Greg gently pressed his fingers to his mouth and James began licking them clean and sucking on them gently. It was always contingent on the next handful of food, so he always made sure he did a good job. Plus, he got to just pleasure his master, just a little bit. If Greg didn’t know that James could hear all those little murmurs of pleasure he made when he was sucking and licking his fingers, well. James knew. He could hear them, clear as day. And he loved them. He loved that he could make his master happy this way, because it usually meant that once this was all over, Greg would take him to bed to take care of him. There would be a massage, and some tenderness, and that was when all the forgiveness and apologies were made. And if James was lucky, and Greg was in a good mood, there might be some sex.
“Please, sir, may I have some food please?” James asked, beginning the ritual all over again.
Greg made him wait a little longer this time, but it was worth it, because it was a mouthful of perfectly cooked pasta with a sauce that James found almost orgasmic. He made a very good attempt at cleaning his master’s hands after that one. He didn’t think he deserved food that good when he was being punished, but it was delicious. He made a point of sucking Greg’s fingers extra seductively, just to make it clear how much he enjoyed that mouthful of food.
“Thank you so much for feeding me, sir,” James said. He really wanted to say how delicious it was, but he held back. Greg’s hand was still on the back of his neck. He could just guess he’d get a smack if he dared to say anything he wasn’t allowed to say.
But Greg seemed to have noticed the extra attention, and James felt his fingers just tangling in his hair, gently stroking the back of his head, and that, too, felt orgasmic. James might have let out a tiny moan because it felt so good.
“Not yet, boy, you’ve got a way to go before you get anything else from me,” Greg said.
James simply nodded, understanding. “Please, sir, may I have some food please?”
This time, Greg made him wait. Perhaps five, ten minutes? James didn’t really know. He’d lost all sense of time. It wasn’t as if Greg was preparing anything. He was just talking with Alex about things James didn’t really care about enough to listen to. Admin things. Work. James was bored of it.
And then those fingers were probing his mouth, and Greg offered him some bread with chutney on it, and not chutney he particularly liked. It was a bit too bitter, and left an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth. But then the good food never lasted with this sort of thing. The food was never disgusting, just. Bland, or too spicy, or not very nice. But Greg obviously wasn’t too mad with him tonight if he’d fed him some of the pasta. He’d obviously wanted him to try it, to be given a small mouthful of what they’d eaten.
“Thank you for feeding me, sir,” James said when he’d finished eating.
He wished so very much that Greg would let him have his arms free, so he could take his master’s hand in his and lick it clean properly. But as it was, he was just left with his mouth, and those fingers he loved sucking on so much. Greg had big hands, and big fingers, and James loved the way they filled his mouth. And he knew Greg got turned on by it because sometimes, James was allowed to suck those fingers for perhaps longer than was strictly necessary.
“Please, sir, may I have some food please?” James asked.
Greg stroked his head, and James sighed at his touch. Greg had no reason to be kind to him, but he was. And then, there was more food pressing against his lips, more meat this time, and he ate it eagerly. He made sure to lick his master’s fingers clean, and suck on those beautiful hands. Hands that had indeed punished him earlier and left his butt red and bruised and sore. Hands that were now feeding him and stroking his hair.
“Thank you for feeding me, sir,” James said.
Without warning, Greg leant down to kiss the top of his head, and James really wasn’t expecting this much affection from him when he was meant to be being punished.
“You’re a good boy, James, when you’re not having tantrums. But then I’m beginning to think you’re enjoying being fed like this, and if you’re throwing tantrums in a bid to be punished and then hand-fed, well. You had better get that idea out of your head right now, you hear?” Greg said. There was still warmth in his voice, but James could hear the growl of crossness too, and he was afraid that he had given himself away by enjoying this too much.
James nodded, not daring to speak.
“What was that, James? I can’t hear you,” Greg said.
James hadn’t realised he’d needed to give a verbal response, but he gave a quick and earnest ‘Yes, sir, I understand,’ before Greg got cross with him and punished him some more.
“Good boy. Are you still hungry, James?” Greg asked.
James could feel those fingers beginning to pull his hair rather than just tangle in it gently, and he understood exactly what that meant. “Yes, sir, please, may I have some food, sir?”
“You may, James, but don’t expect to enjoy the rest of your meal. I’m nowhere near done feeding you yet,” Greg said.
James swallowed. Greg’s kindness was over, at least for now. He concentrated on asking for food, cleaning his master’s hands, and thanking him for the food, and not on how much he might be enjoying this. The food he was fed was mostly bland and not very interesting. There was a little more meat, what James assumed were vegetables in a sauce he couldn’t identify, some more bread and that awful chutney, and some cold cut meat that might have been some kind of salami that burnt the roof of his mouth.
“Drink for me, James,” Greg said, pressing the rim of a glass to his lips.
James drank. The water was uncomfortably sour with lemon juice, but he drank it anyway, because he knew he had to. If he didn’t finish his meal, he’d get in trouble. Besides, at least he was being fed. It was better than going hungry. It still might have made his eyes water.
Once he’d finished his drink, the feeding continued. James was sure his knees were going to be quite sore at the end of all of this, but he kept on going and said nothing, because saying nothing was the best option. He was quite firmly in subspace now too, where his attention was completely focused on his master and nothing else.
“Please, sir may I have some food please?” James asked.
“You may, James, try and keep this down, boy,” Greg said.
James opened his mouth and froze at the food in his mouth. The taste was appalling, and the worst thing was he couldn’t identify what it was. Mush, of some kind, but with a texture of dog food, the burn of hot chilli, and something else he couldn’t fathom, something bready. James obediently swallowed it, but he didn’t enjoy it.
Greg made him drink some milk before he let him clean his hands, so at least there was no more chilli to burn his master’s skin with. It still burnt his throat though, and James very much wanted this to be over.
“Thank you for feeding me, sir,” James said, though he wasn’t sure how thankful he really was.
And then, they’d reached the ‘foods that had no business being paired together’ stage. James hated this part, because everything just tasted awful. Not in a rotten kind of way, but in a ‘these things should never be eaten together’ kind of way. Like nacho chips and gummy worms. Or overly sweet strawberries and mushrooms with far too much balsamic vinegar that made the back of his throat sting. Or the most awful ginger and pumpkin bread with garlic cloves stuffed inside it. None of it worked, but James ate it all obediently, cleaning his master’s hands after every handful.
It always did strange things to his appetite, because he was, in some ways, very fussy about what he ate, but at the same time, he had never yet been sick because of this and felt he had a fairly strong constitution. His was nowhere near as strong as Alex’s, of course. James knew there was no way he could ever stomach half the things Greg made Alex eat. It was all definitely food, it was just. Not very nice. And bordering on disgusting. Never rotten or off or out of date. But perhaps he’d burnt things, or cooked things wrong, or alright, perhaps he did feed him rotten fish once, that weird stuff from Finland or Iceland or wherever it was from. It stunk out the house for a week. It was also the only time James had ever heard Alex throwing up afterwards.
That was a rough night for everyone, but it was also the first time James realised since he’d moved in just how much Greg cared for them both. Alex was a babbling mess, and James had gone to fetch Greg because he didn’t know what else to do, and he’d half expected Greg to just enjoy his suffering, but he didn’t. Greg was at Alex’s side immediately and began to soothe him, and it killed any desire in James to be mean to Alex.
Greg apologised for the fish, promised never to do it again, and he just cuddled Alex until he calmed down. James hung by, feeling like he didn’t really want to leave them alone. He’d tried to leave, but Alex had grasped his sleeve, as if he suddenly needed James there too. So he’d stayed. He left only to fetch water and some bread, after Alex had sat in a warm bath for a while to calm him down. James noticed the way Greg just stroked his head gently, whispered to him gently, and never blamed Alex for being sick, even though Alex kept saying he’d disobeyed him and should be punished.
Even James was coaxed into joining them by the bath, and Greg encouraged him to tell Alex all his stupid stories just to cheer him up. Well, James was never one to miss a chance to brag, and he told stories to Alex about all his ridiculous fuck-ups until Alex was laughing and had forgotten to be upset about being sick.
James didn’t quite know how to feel when Alex reached for his hand that he’d just been resting on the side of the tub, and just brushed his hand with his thumb. He didn’t pull away, because it wasn’t the time for that. Greg had set the tone as one of sympathy and love, and James wasn’t willing to breach it. But it still felt strange, but it also felt like the right thing to do in that moment. And maybe Alex gently took his hand and kissed it, and James just didn’t know how to take that at all.
And then it was 3am, and they were all awake, and Alex was finally laughing and snuggled up in a blanket in Greg’s arms. Greg cuddled James too, which he didn’t expect. Alex smiled at him shyly, but also clung to Greg, eating a piece of bread with the smallest of nibbles. James was used to seeing him eat very quickly indeed, so it was strange to see him pecking at the bread like a tiny bird.
No one really got back to bed until about 4am, and Greg insisted they all sleep in his giant bed with him, which James was hesitant about until he saw Alex reaching for him, like James wasn’t allowed to be separated from them. He was part of this family, no matter how much he wanted to fight it. And perhaps he might have given Alex a soft kiss on his cheek because Greg did, and it just felt right, before they all fell asleep.
“Oi, James, pay attention. We’re not done yet,” Greg said, breaking him out of his thoughts.
James was jolted out of his memories. He hadn’t even been aware of Greg’s fingers tangling in his hair. He’d been elsewhere, and his master never liked that. He wasn’t allowed to just drift off during punishments.
“Please, sir, may I have some food, please?” James said, back in the present. He still thought about that night, though, and how strange and yet wonderful it had felt. He’d just never been very good at replicating that, because his swagger kept getting in the way.
Greg’s fingers pressing against his lips stopped him thinking about it as he fed him another slice of bread with what tasted like toothpaste spread on it. It probably wasn’t toothpaste, but it was very minty and the bread just did not work at all. It was awful. He swallowed it and obediently licked his master’s fingers clean.
“Thank you for feeding me, sir,” James said, dreading what was coming next.
What followed was a pause, and Greg’s hand gently stroking the back of his head. “Not long to go now, James, you’re nearly done. You’ve done very well tonight. And when I take you up to care for you afterwards, perhaps you’ll tell me what you were thinking about just then. And that’s not an option.”
“Yes, sir, please, may I have some food, sir?” James said, not sure he was ready for that conversation, but it seemed he had no choice.
“Yes, you can have some food. Here, try this,” Greg said.
James opened his mouth and tasted chocolate and orange. Orange dipped in chocolate? It was hard to tell, but it went well with the mint. The fact that he was getting chocolate suggested he was almost done, even if Greg hadn’t told him. He always got dessert as a reward, and he felt his whole body relax. He also spent a little more time than necessary licking that sweet chocolate from his master’s hands, sucking ever so gently on those fingers in appreciation for going to such troubles to feed him. Hand feeding was time-consuming, and slow, and James knew his master had better things to do, but he was grateful for this because he was still and calm and happy now, and his master would be pleased with that.
“Thank you so much for feeding me, sir,” James said.
“How long have we been going for now, Alex?” Greg said.
“Nearly forty minutes, sir,” Alex said.
“I think that’s about enough or his knees will lock again, and we don’t want that, do we, James?” Greg said, gently stroking the back of his head again.
“No, sir, thank you, sir,” James said. At least he felt full, and satisfied, and not sick. It was over.
“Alright, you’re done. Let’s get you up and out of those restraints, yeah? You’ll be right to clean up here, Alex?” Greg said.
“Of course, sir, it’s my job, sir,” Alex said.
James wasn’t really paying attention though, because Greg was now kneeling beside him and gently undoing the restraints. He gently removed the blindfold, giving James time to get used to vision again as he blinked against the light. He freed his arms next, and James was grateful.
“Lean against the table, you know how stiff you get,” Greg said.
“Yes, sir,” James said. His shoulders ached, but he did as he was told, reaching up to brace himself as he lost the support of his restraints.
And then, Greg’s arm was around his chest, supporting him as he unbuckled the ones on his legs. James was glad for the support, because his legs were stiff, and his knees ached when he was asked to move them just a little. He was very good at kneeling, but it did take its toll on his body.
When he was finally free, Greg gently picked him up in his arms, and carried him all the way up to his bedroom. There, he gently undressed him and lay him down on his bed on top of a towel, and began gently rubbing him down with some oil.
James ached everywhere. Like, absolutely everywhere. His legs ached, his back ached, his shoulders ached, and his jaw even ached from all the licking and sucking he’d done. Subspace still lingered, and he was too tired to really tell it to go away, so he gave in to it. All he knew was that Greg was gently massaging his legs, and slowly, the stiffness and the pain began to fade.
“So, what were you thinking about before? Remember I asked you to tell me?” Greg said.
James was surprised at the gentleness of his voice, but then Greg’s gentleness often surprised him because he never felt he really deserved it half the time. Like now. When he’d been punished for throwing a tantrum, and here was his master, tending to him as if he’d just worked himself too hard.
“Don’t rush if it’s hard to talk about. I just like knowing where your mind goes when you’re kneeling there like that,” Greg said. “You always tend to space out at some point, I can feel it. You get a bit wobbly so I just hold you steady and gently bring you back. Is it the blindfold that does it?”
James nodded. “Makes me ruminate. Think about things. Can’t really do much else, can I? And I just – I knew we’d got to the bad foods, and my mind went to the rotten fish. You remember that night? When Alex was sick?”
“I do remember that night. What made you think of that?” Greg said.
James shrugged against the bed. “Dunno, really. Just … I guess I was wondering why he gets it so much worse than me. Like. I know he can take it, but it still feels mean, you know? Why do you make him eat such awful things when you don’t give them to me?”
“Since when have you cared about Alex like that? You’re at his throat every other day, or fucking around with his work and getting either one or both of you in trouble. Why do you suddenly care that I’m being too mean to him?” Greg said, though he didn’t sound angry, which surprised James.
“I don’t – know. I just.” James paused, unsure.
“Take your time. We’ve got all night. I’m not trying to push you for a right answer, because there isn’t one. Just tell me what’s on your mind. Tell me where your thoughts are at. What’s got you bothered by it tonight?” Greg said.
“I-I guess … the fish just felt too much, sir. Because it made him sick. And that’s not the point of this punishment, is it, sir? You feed us because we can’t be trusted to feed ourselves. But you just feed him awful things, sir, and I don’t know how I feel about that,” James said.
“I didn’t know it bothered you this much. But Alex has never complained about it, so why do you feel upset on his behalf if he’s not upset at all?” Greg said.
“I don’t think he has the courage to complain, sir. He’s just used to you shitting on him like that. I’ve seen it in his eyes, sir, he feels it’s all he deserves, so he just puts up with it,” James said, unaware of just how badly he was projecting.
Greg seemed to let this thought run through his mind as he concentrated on massaging James’ legs. James let his thoughts settle too, because he always needed some space to think.
He wasn’t sure what he was really upset about, nor if he was actually upset at all. He thought back over that night again, and tried to figure out why he was so bothered by it. It was the first time he’d thought about it since it had happened, and he wanted to know what had triggered that and why.
Deep down, he knew why, of course. That strange feeling of belonging, of being wanted, the way Alex didn’t want him to leave his side. Why was Alex like that only in that moment? Why wasn’t he like that to him the rest of the time? Or was it just that he kept smashing through and trying to prove himself to Greg, only to get on Alex’s nerves and piss him off? Did he see Alex as … competition? His rival? Did he secretly want Alex’s job? Not really. Admin wasn’t his forte, and he liked sleeping in, rather than getting up at dawn to get Greg’s breakfast ready.
They certainly egged each other on, that’s for sure. It wasn’t always James getting Alex in trouble. Sometimes, it was Alex setting James up for a tantrum. And that just made James want payback, and so the cycle continued. James had no idea how to stop it, because he was bad at holding grudges. Like, really bad. He hung on to them like clothes he hated that he wouldn’t get rid of out of pure spite. The more Alex pissed him off, the more grudges he held, and the more time he spent planning revenge.
And yet, he contrasted that with that moment in the bath, where Alex had just seemed so genuinely happy that he was there. Like, he needed him there. The way he kissed his hand, how he tugged on his sleeve, not wanting him to leave. James had only been there a month, and Alex was being clingy in a way he was not used to.
He closed his eyes a moment as Greg worked his leg muscles a bit harder, and they ached a bit more intensely, bringing him out of his mind. Greg looked at him, and when James opened his eyes, he didn’t know what his expression was trying to say.
“You’re thinking about Alex, aren’t you?” Greg said.
James nodded. “How do I stop being so pissed off at him? How do I–“ He paused, things suddenly clarifying in his mind. “I know what it is now. I want him to fucking stop and grow a fucking spine. He’s just too … submissive! It bothers me so much how dependent he is on you. And you just take it from him, like you just accept that he’s a fucking doormat, and you spend all your time trying to tame me when you should be trying to build him up instead! He has no fucking opinions of his own because he just looks to you instead. He’s just so fucking weak! God, it annoys me so much! He’s so pathetic! He just lets you bully him and he says nothing, absolutely nothing. And you know what? Maybe I’m annoyed with that. I don’t know why, but I am. I’m sorry, sir, but that’s where my head is, sir.”
Greg didn’t speak for a while as he moved up to massaging his arms. “I think that says a lot more about how you see submission than it says about Alex. You see it as weakness, as being a doormat. Someone who has no spine who gets walked all over. But that’s not what submission is. Submission is a strength. It’s giving over your life to a master, to trust them with every aspect of your care and guidance, because you know you need it. To know they are there to make you better, not to beat you down. A good master does not treat his submissives badly. You see me feeding Alex awful food as punishment, you think I don’t care about him, you think I abuse and exploit him, but you’re only seeing half the picture. Why did that night with the fish come to you today? What was it that really bothered you about it?”
James felt the brat rise in him, because he hated being challenged, particularly when he couldn’t walk away from them. But Greg had his arms in his hands, gently rubbing the aches away, and James just didn’t want to fight him.
“He was–“ James didn’t want to say it. He hated this, the way Greg got him to talk after a punishment like this. But he was too close to subspace to not answer him now. “You cared. And he was – nice. To me.”
“There we go. Now we’re at the heart of it. You just don’t know how to take kindness, do you, James? You like it when I’m mean. That’s why you keep fighting me, because you know how to deal with conflict. If you’re a brat who’s always getting in trouble and getting paddled all the time, you’re happy. Because it feels bad. You understand it. That’s why you keep fighting with Alex, too. Nice isn’t what you’re into. You put up this swagger, like you’re trying to protect yourself, and sure, maybe you needed it before, but you don’t need it now, not here, not with us. What are you afraid of? That we’ll love you too much?” Greg said.
James turned his head away, unwilling to let Greg know just how close he was to the truth. He didn’t speak, but let Greg keep working on his body. When he was done with his arms, Greg told him to turn over, and he did, clutching a pillow under his chest.
“Just think back to that night, James. What did you feel? It was clearly powerful enough for you to remember it,” Greg asked as he started rubbing down his back.
James didn’t answer. He thought. And then he spoke. “I thought you would just – laugh at him, sir. Take joy in his suffering. But you didn’t. And I didn’t know what to do when you responded like that. I didn’t think you really cared at all, like we were just your boys you got to do your jobs so you don’t have to do them. But it was – different. Alex was different. I thought he wouldn’t want me there at all because it’s not like we’re close, but he did, and I have no idea why. I never got him to tell me why, he wouldn’t say. I – didn’t know what to do because I didn’t know what my place was. I still don’t really know. I feel like I’ll never belong because I just can’t get this right at all.”
“We’re lovers first. I told you that when you moved in. It’s not like coming round to mine to play and bow at my feet and then you go home again. This is a family, and as the head of that family, I take care of you, just like you take care of me. You wouldn’t be here, James, if you didn’t want to be. This clearly means something to you. You get something out of this you can’t get anywhere else. Maybe you can’t quite name it yet, maybe you need more time to really understand what this means to you, but that’s fine. Every boy understands it in their own time. You can’t rush it. You’ll find a moment where it suddenly becomes clear to you, and then you’ll know how you fit in here,” Greg said.
James was quiet, letting Greg work on him. He thought. There was a lot going through his head, and he didn’t quite know how to make sense of it. Was he really just fighting so hard because he couldn’t deal with kindness? Surely that couldn’t be it. But he didn’t deserve good things. He didn’t deserve kindness. That was for other boys, not for him. He could deal with Greg’s meanness. He liked it. He understood it. But he didn’t understand…
God, he’d been so bad again. Had another tantrum because he’d got overstimulated and couldn’t cope and just shouted the house down. And then Greg paddled him and it had hurt, and he’d understood that. He knew he’d done bad. He had bruises on his cheeks to prove that. But then. But then he’d-
Perhaps what really annoyed him about the fish was that James always expected to get the bad food. It’s all he deserved for being bad, wasn’t it? He shouldn’t get good things. He should be fed bad things when he’d being punished. But his master was kind to him. He fed him nice things. Delicious things. And he didn’t even need to just gently stroke his hair, but he did, and James wanted to cry because he wasn’t allowed to like those things, was he? He was being punished, not coddled! Punishment wasn’t meant to feel nice! It just wasn’t-
Greg pressed a kiss to the back of his head, and it jolted James out of his thoughts. His body, at least, felt better now, but he would still ache for a while. He turned over to see Greg sitting on the floor beside his bed, just looking at him.
“Oh, I’ve got so much to teach you, James, if you’ll let me,” Greg said.
“What do you mean?” James said.
And suddenly, Greg was kissing him, and it was soft and gentle and James fought it, pulled away, and stared at him in shock.
“What are you doing, sir? We don’t – kiss!” James said.
“Why not? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kiss you,” Greg said.
James struggled to think. “I mean, we’re just – I – it’s not like-“
“It felt good, didn’t it? But you don’t let yourself feel good, do you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You keep holding back, like you’re too scared to let yourself just feel good. But there’s no judgement here, there’s no one here to shame you for what you like, or tell you that pleasure is sinful. Maybe it’ll take you a while to get over that guilt, but you’ll get there. I’ll wear you down eventually, just you wait,” Greg said.
James lay down again, feeling defeated. He wasn’t conscious of his decision to cry, but he was. And Greg, to his credit, didn’t try to coddle him. Instead, he gently picked him up and tucked him into bed.
“You just think on what I’ve said, alright? Rest well, James. You sleep as long as you like. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” Greg said.
James curled up, but he did mutter a ‘goodnight, sir’, and he did appreciate Greg just squeezing his shoulder gently, reassuring him. But then he heard his footsteps retreat and he was all alone in the dark, and he cried, head buried under his duvet. He would not give in to this. He would not. He would’nt. Would he?