Let's Make a Scene Ch. 01

He hums. "When you get home I want you to have a long hot bath or shower, then tuck in underneath the duvet and sleep for at least eight hours. Can you manage that?"

I smile. "Yes, sir."

He shakes my chin gently. "Good boy."

____________________________________________________

I leave Brimstone feeling better than when I entered. The cool air outside feels refreshing on my flushed face. I look down at the card Princess gave me while I wait for my driver. It is a matte black with white lettering.

Master Alexander

My car pulls up and I get in gingerly, sitting down slowly to disperse my weight evenly. The tenderness is already a little better than earlier on the couch. I like the reminder though, and hope it will linger a little longer.

I replay the scenes from the evening in my head. I lean back and close my eyes with a smile on my lips. I couldn't have found a better person for my first flogging. He was thoughtful, kind, and hot.

When I open the door to my apartment, all I can think about is that hot bath. I throw my bag on the floor. I will go through it later. I pull my shirt from my pants and start to unfasten the bottom few buttons.

"Nathan?"

My eyes fly open at my father's stern voice. I walk into my living room and see him sitting in my armchair holding a glass of amber liquid. I sarcastically say, "Did you run out of whiskey, Dad?"

He looks up at me and I notice his eyes are bloodshot. No, that's not right. My dad doesn't cry. Fuck... "Tell me what's going on."

He wipes his face with his free hand and sets the glass down on the end table. "Where have you been? Your plane landed at 9. I tried calling you, but you didn't answer your goddamn phone."

I quickly pull my phone out of my pocket. Shit. Six missed calls. "My phone was on silent. I'm sorry... why did you need me? Is mom okay?"

I look at my father's appearance trying to get clues. He looks older than he did before my trip. His white hair is disheveled and his clothes are wrinkled. He stares at me with an angry expression. "She died while you were out doing god knows what."

The air is knocked out of my lungs. I have to grab the back of my couch to steady myself. This is exactly why I didn't want to go. I never got to say goodbye... I whisper, "When?"

My father's eyes are glassy. He must have had at least three drinks, maybe more. "They pronounced her dead at 10:19."

I shut my eyes. I feel like the bottom of my stomach has sunk to the soles of my feet. My voice cracks. "I-I didn't... know. I'm sorry."

"Damn right!" I flinch at my father's raised voice.

I open my eyes and see him stand up. "Tomorrow you will figure out the funeral arrangements. Your mom had some requests. Figure it out! That's the least you can do."

He stares at me with a look of disgust. His mouth opens as if to say something else but he stops and closes it. He brushes past me and slams the door on his way out.

I grip the back of the couch so tight my fingers ache. I want to punch something, but I settle for throwing the couch pillows across the room. One catches the lamp and it crashes to the floor. My chest is heaving with anger. I drop down to my knees and lie down on my side.

Everything is sideways now and it makes me dizzy and nauseous. I roll onto my back and wince at the pain. The pain is a reminder of something good, but it is tainted now-

My father is the biggest buzz kill in southern California.

I look at the ceiling of my apartment, and try to get my emotions under control. I know I didn't do anything wrong, but I still feel guilty. There is a tiny voice in my head that says: you knew this would happen. You should have refused to go-

I've never been able to say no to my Father-

I grab my phone from my pocket and look at the time. It's almost 2. I think about calling Garret. My thumb hovers over his name. I let out a shaky breath and press it.

He picks up after the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Did I w- ake you?" my voice cracks.

Garret's voice sounds concerned. "No. Nate, what is it?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat and whisper, "My mom died."

He says in a rush, "Oh, no, baby. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be there."

I shake my head and say, "No, I just need you to talk to me until I fall asleep. I don't know if I can..." I take a deep breath. "Just talk to me for a little while, please?"

Garret's voice is muffled like he is talking to someone in the background then it comes through clear. "Of course, what do you want to talk about?"

I feel like shit for doing this to him. He probably just told a hookup to leave. "I'm sorry. Do you have company?"

I hear a huff then a laugh. "He's done for tonight, don't worry about it."

I hear something being brushed across the phone. I smile. Thankful for the distraction. "Let's talk about that. What does he look like?"

I can hear a smile in his voice. "You could probably guess. I have a type."

"Let me think... Human, male and breathing?"

He sounds amused. "Bingo."

I smile. "Do I get a prize?"

Garret laughs. "Did you just get home?"

I debate telling him about Brimstone and decide not yet. "Basically. My Dad was here in my apartment waiting on me."

Garret's voice is incredulous. "The fuck?"

I feel the anger rising in my chest. "Yeah, he was pissed I wasn't answering my phone. He basically told me that it was my fault I wasn't there when mom died."

Garret says with heat, "He's such a prick."

I squeeze my eyes shut. "Let's talk about something else."

His voice is sympathetic when he says, "Sure. Tell me about your mom. I only met her once when you invited me to your house for Christmas a few years ago. She was beautiful."

My breath hitches when I think about her before the diagnosis. I wish I had told her that more."Yes. She was. That's where I got my looks from."

Garret scoffs. "Certainly wasn't from your father."

I grin at the dig. He has always hated him. Mostly for how he treats me, but also because he refused to give him a job. Despite being more than qualified, I think it was because of our friendship. He probably thought that Garret would be too much of a distraction-

I shake my head and try to think of a bright happy memory of her to share. There are a few but one sticks out. "She loved sports. Football, soccer, all of it. So, I went to the little league baseball tryouts in third grade..."

Garret interrupts, "Wait. What? You never told me you played baseball..."

I laugh. "Let me finish... I said I tried. Anyway, I think the coach took pity on me because I couldn't bat or throw for shit. He let me play for a season. It was torture, but worth it to see my mom rooting for me in the crowd."

Garret laughs. "I can't see it! You have always hated sports."

I smile at the memory of nine-year old me in that ugly lime-green uniform. "I may have a picture..."

Garret snorts. "Oh, please show it to me when you find it."

I laugh. "Okay. Anyway... I had been going to practices religiously. My mom even threw the ball around with me in our backyard. I was determined to get better. I never really did.

"So, where do you think they put the worst players? The outfield. And they pray nobody hits a fly ball. Pretty rare in third grade, but it does happen. And guess what?"

Garret sounds incredulous, "You had to catch it?"

I breathe out a, "Yep."

Garret asks, "Did you?"

I scoff. "I was scared shit-less. I saw it coming down and I panicked. I stood there frozen. I didn't even raise my glove. It hit me right in the face."

Garret gasps. "No!"

I remember the blood gushing from my nose and my teammates huddled around me. "I didn't care about the pain. I was just so embarrassed.

"I don't know how she did it, but my mom managed to get on the field faster than the paramedics. She lifted my head onto her lap and held a towel to my nose. I looked up at her expecting her to be mad. She just looked... sad. I told her I was sorry."

Garret's voice sounds mournful, "Damn, man."

I clear my throat getting a little choked up at the memory. "She shook her head and said she was so proud of me." Tears spring to my eyes. "Needless to say I dropped out the next day. We had a heart to heart and she told me that she never wanted me to do anything that didn't make my heart sing."

Garret is quick to say, "Too bad for you that means being a lawyer."

I laugh. "You say that as if you aren't also a lawyer."

Garret scoffs, "At least I'm not a corporate lawyer. You guys suck."

There is silence for about a minute before Garret says, "Are you asleep?"

I let out a deep breath shakily. "Not yet."

Garret never misses a beat. He reads me so well. "Tell me one good thing that happened today."

I immediately think about Master Alexander. I decide to tell him. "I went to Brimstone."

I hear Garret choking on liquid. He sputters, "Without me?"

I laugh. "It was a last minute decision."

Garret sounds baffled. "I can't believe you actually did it. You've been talking about going forever."

I hum into the phone.

After a few seconds Garret says, "Well? How was it? What did you see... or do? I want details."

I think about it and decide, "I still need to process it, but I will say that I liked it."

Garret groans out, "You are going to make me wait, aren't you?"

I smile up at the ceiling. "Afraid so." My smile falters when I think about what I have to do in a few hours. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm going to try to sleep. Thank you, Garret. You are the best."

"Anytime." I hear the call go silent then a beep. I look at the time on my phone. 3:17 am. I close my eyes. I have so much to do in a few short hours.

I slowly pull up and stand. I walk over to the glass of whiskey my dad left and down it quickly. I pour another and drink it slower. Once I start to feel numb I go to my bed and fall face first onto the mattress.

Present day...

"Callipygian."

I startle. I didn't say the safe word, Alex did.

The dildo is pulled out, leaving me feeling empty. He walks behind me and I hear the motor whirring. My legs are slowly lowered. My breath is ragged, my legs are aching and my dick is hard as a rock.

I sputter, "I didn't say stop... why did you?"

When his face appears it is kind and worried. He starts to massage my thighs.

His voice sounds distressed. "I shouldn't have kept you in that position for so long. Why didn't you tell me your legs were cramping?"

I blink, trying to pay attention to the question instead of his hands kneading my sore muscles. I honestly was so focused on the pleasure, I didn't notice.

I sigh, "I didn't want it to stop, I guess. I'm sorry."

Alex's frown lifts up slightly. He walks over and cradles my face in his hands. He reaches down and kisses me. It is filthy and wet; just how I like it. He pulls back and says, "I'm going to have to be careful with you, hm?"

I smile. "Maybe. Can we go again?"

He sighs without malice. "You are incorrigible. Lets focus on getting off and then perhaps we can revisit this fantasy another time? Is that fair?"-

He reaches down and grips my cock, causing me to moan out, "More than fair."

His eyes twinkle before he bends down and takes me in his mouth fully. All the way to his throat. I cry out-

I'm a decent size, not as big as Alex but average. I'm impressed by his skill. He doesn't even gag. He starts to pull up, the suction keeping it sealed tight in his mouth like a vacuum-

"Shit, shit, shit... I'm not going to last long!"

He takes his mouth off of me and turns his head to look at me. "That's the point."

Before I can reply, he resumes sucking the hell out of my cock. He is so fucking good at this. Seeing him do this for me is unbelievably hot. I just wish I could touch him...

He hums around me and the vibration makes my balls tighten up. I come so hard I see stars-

He starts to unbuckle my restraints. I can do little more than watch. I'm too liquid to move yet-

I'm thinking about sitting up when I feel the table lower a few inches. I didn't even know it could do that.

I'm still pretty nonverbal, but my thoughts are running wild.

Alex comes to stand in front of the table. He looks down at me with a sexy smile. He undoes his jeans slowly, teasing me-

He pulls his cock out and slowly jacks it. I lick my lips, remembering how he tasted the night before.

He smirks at me. "No, you won't be sucking me off tonight."

Fucking mind-reader-

It gets bigger and the head pops out from his foreskin. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a condom.

I'd told him I wasn't on PrEP yet. He was, but for now we wanted to be careful. No STDs according to both our tests. I had done mine a couple months ago after Tommy. His was done just last week. No sores or cuts...

I feel him pat my cheek. I didn't even know he had moved. "You went away. You alright?"

I take a deep breath. "Yeah, sorry." Maybe I'm a little nervous if my inner monologue is about health instead of focusing on how lucky I will be to have Alex's cock in me.

His eyes squint like he is trying to assess my mood. I'm able to grab his cock with my hand now free. I grin when he gasps.

He grips my hair and growls, "Don't."

I let go reluctantly. He breathes. "Good boy."

He walks back to stand at my feet. His hands grab my hips and he tugs me towards him. The skin on my back and ass squeaks against the metal surface as I slide down to the edge of the table, my ass hanging about halfway off. He grips my legs and puts them on his shoulders.

I cry out, "Fuck, yes!"

He looks down at me with a satisfied expression and starts to push his cock into my loosened hole. He is slow, and I'm thankful. Even though I am prepped, he is thicker than that metal dildo.

As he sinks in all the way I groan and he looks down at me patiently. I have no idea how he does that. I would be fucking into him with abandon right now if our roles were reversed. Maybe we could try...

I cry out when he slides out and rams back in hard. "Stop. Thinking."

I look at him quizzically. His eyes are twinkling with humor. How does he know when I'm not being present?

He says, "Your face is an open book, love."-

He proceeds to fuck me fast. I take it and stay focused on his face. I'm just able to get my hands on his hips. I dig my fingers in hard, but it isn't enough. I lift myself up to get my hands around his neck.

His breath is hot on my face. I want to kiss him. He leans down just enough for me to lick his mouth. I stretch a little further and our lips meet-

I can only imagine what we look like. My cock jumps a little at the thought.

He leans back and takes one of my legs off his shoulder. I rotate my hips a little, my leg is folded sideways on the table, and then...

I howl, "ohmygod!"

At this angle he is hitting my prostate. My cock springs back to life. I reach down to stroke it. He slaps my hand away. An animalistic sound escapes from my throat.

He pants, "You've already come once, pet. How many times have I come?"

I say through grit teeth, "Zero."

"That's right." He starts to fuck into me even faster than before and I moan every time he hits my prostate, which is seemingly every second.

My balls tighten up and I know I could come like this: hands free, just on Alex's cock.

His voice is thick with arousal when he says, "Don't come until I tell you to."

I whimper. "Please..."

His hips falter and I feel his cock pulse inside of me. He shudders and grips my hips hard. It will bruise, but I couldn't care less-

It takes him a minute to recover. I wait patiently, appreciating how beautiful he looks after he has come. My dick is still painfully hard.

He lets go of my hips first, his softening member slipping out, then leans in to kiss me. I'm more than happy to oblige, but when his stomach brushes up against my cock I whimper into his mouth-

He rubs his belly over me intentionally, and grins down at me. I bite back a groan. He takes pity, and reaches down to tug at my now painfully hard erection-

My hips buck up into his fist. His face is about six inches from mine. He grabs the back of my head and our foreheads touch. He breathes against my lips. "Come for me, love."

I cry out as my cock shoots all over his hand and chest. He keeps stroking me until I start to convulse from the sensitivity-

He leans down and licks the come off of his fingers. My stomach flips. Fuck, that's hot.

He grins. "Care for a taste? It's delectable." I nod, and he leans down for an open-mouthed kiss. I moan when I taste myself on his lips.