Pain is Love

There is usually a lull between around 4 and 6am, but then the early risers looking for action will come along.

And no. I don't stay up overnight. Will is displayed right outside my room, but I go to bed and rise quite late, around 9 or 10am, by which time Will needs to come in for cleaning up, checking over, hydration and a bathroom break.

Then I put him back out until mid-afternoon.

On Sunday afternoon I had been invited for a drink, so it was around 3.30pm before I got back to Will, to find him sobbing, moaning, and attempting to writhe as Mistress Jack gave him a prostate massage milking.

Judging by his straining breaths, she had forced him to cum a number of times in the hour I had been gone.

The minder raised a finger to his lips, so I realized Will didn't know who was there with him. I leaned against the door and watched him suffer so beautifully for her. There was no rush.

Finally it was over, and I took my exhausted boy inside.

I had no doubt he was going to be buzzing about this weekend when he came back to himself.

Sunday evening dining is a bit of a tradition here, and tonight there was a BBQ! So I took Will down still restrained.

Comfortably. Just his hands bound loosely behind his back, his cock caged and a plug in.

He was fed and watered by me, and others. Teased and kissed. His body stroked and petted as he leaked from his cage and kept his eyes down.

Deep, deep in submission.

On a non-whipping weekend he would be the life and soul. Begging to take part in games, bouncing around and charming everyone.

On weekends like this though, everyone knew that he just needed quiet and touch, and they obliged. Letting him luxuriate in his surrender.

By 8pm though he was swaying, so I took him up, and settled him for the night.

Curled into me.

Quiet and wallowing in his experience.

-X

The drive home Monday morning was quiet, Will was still under. Partly because even the slouchy clothes were reminding his body of the hurts, but also simply due to how deep he had gone.

This isn't really the sub-zone though. Not anymore.

When a slave is in the sub-zone they are still actively submitting. The whipping and torture in front of an audience. The display and continued use. All that time Will is an active participant, we are both chasing our pleasure.

This after period. The sleepy, needy, somewhat uncommunicative time. We don't call it the sub-zone. We call it the vulnerable zone.

To introduce pain play now would be a betrayal of the trust Will has in me as his master. What he needs now is protection and reassurance. Care.

I ponder as I bathe him, lapping the warm water gently against his skin. The slight bruising and the welts which are already starting to fade.

Smiling to myself at the thought that this might all be an intricate way to get to play doctor and patient.

A quiet moan and gentle thrust as I gently run a finger down his cock.

I love Will's cock. It's fucking beautiful and that little lean it does to the right, like it's bashfully shy, trying to hide. I just adore that little bend.

I gently fan the water against his balls to clean and soothe without making contact. The whip had caught him, and I harden with a flash of memory.

The scream that escaped him, his body arching and tensing in his spread-eagled restraints when that line of pure white flame flared across his defenseless, exposed balls.

No, my need to dominate is all about control and pleasure.

Another memory from nowhere makes me frown. Will is not the only one vulnerable after play, my heart and emotions are open as well.

To please my mother I had agreed to be an altar boy, only to find that the priest recognizing my nature, saw me as fair game.

I murmur reassurance to Will as he shifts, even as the unwanted memory prickles and irritates. Perhaps though, this is why I'm a good master, I would never take advantage of Will's needs. Not past what brings us both pleasure.

Oh, please. Don't worry about me. I was a precocious child and handed that priest's balls back to him wrapped in the altar cloth.

I also stopped denying my true nature.

Obviously dear old Ma doesn't know the half of it, but I know she confesses every week on my behalf. More embarrassed than devastated that I will go to hell after enjoying sexual relations with men.

She has never met Will. She never will.

Her loss, I think as I let those thoughts go and bring my mind back to pleasure and the beautiful, brave man in my arms.

My hand slides through the water over his abs. Will is slender but carved and wildly lickable.

I smile as I trace the lines across his flesh. The barest touch making Will sigh, his lips parting slightly.

These sensitive nipples which constantly crave pain. If nipples could speak, his would be yelling at me for attention.

I grin, as cartoon nipples arguing about what punishment they would enjoy best runs through my head. I'm getting spacey, it's been a long weekend.

I rub my thumb over the bars, to appease his demanding nipples, and kiss him at the same time.

Will opens to me and moans into my mouth as my tongue slides against his. The slight pain and rasp, as we both need a shave.

I lift my head and call him softly. His eyes struggle to open. Not quite focused but searching for me.

Those beautiful, dark, heavily lashed eyes blink at me with longing and a trusting innocence, before fluttering closed again.

It's like coming across a fawn in the forest. Big brown eyes that gaze at me with an expression almost like, 'Please don't eat me'.

The first thing I noticed about Will was his clumsiness. The first thing that aroused me about Will was his ass. The thing that made me think he might be the one, that I might be about to take the fall, were his Bambi eyes.

Once he's out of the water and dried off, balm reapplied, we snuggle down. It's very rare that Will comes out of zoning badly, but it's always a possibility. So I hold him close, safe against my heart.

-X

It was about six weeks later, Will was totally healed, when I came in one night to find him in the shower.

I grinned and started to strip, thinking how spectacular my timing was, when Will reached for the shampoo and jerked to a halt, wincing, "Ah, shit."

"Hey," Will jumped and then rolled his eyes, "Sorry, should've cleared my throat or whistled, you okay?"

"Yea," he frowned and shifted, "I think I've strained a muscle or something."

Will often goes to the gym with a friend of ours, well you know him, Master Aquarius. He has been encouraging Will with weights.

Will has always been gorgeous, but I can't deny that I enjoy his new guns!

"You been pushing the lifting?"

"I guess I must have."

I finished stripping and stepped into the shower, "Let me assist you then," I grinned, tipping shampoo into my hand before diving into his thick, dark hair.

He gripped my hips and moaned as I massaged his scalp, "Shit, you could make a living."

"Always good to have a fall back."

The next morning it was clear that Will had not slept well and was still in a lot of pain.

I found him in the morning with orange juice and painkillers when I wandered into the kitchen.

"You look tired," I said, moving forward to kiss him.

"No shit!" Will snapped back, then winced at my raised eyebrow, "Sorry, sorry I didn't get much rest."

"It's not any better?"

He shook his head, "No, worse if anything, but that's often the way with pulled muscle's isn't it?"

"Maybe you tore a muscle," I suggested.

"Is that even possible?"

"Oh yes," I confirmed, having done so myself.

Will frowned, "And what do you do about that?"

"Wait for it to stop hurting," I admitted with a sympathetic smile and kissed his cheek, "Jesus, Will. You're burning up."

"I'm just tired."

"You're flushed," I insisted.

Will opened his mouth, no doubt to snap at me again, which was really unlike him, then just stopped and leaned against the counter.

"Are you sure you are well enough to go to work?" I asked, gently.

"Yea, I'll just be careful."

I was hesitant to agree but in the end gave Will a lift to the book shop that he runs with a good friend.

Mary waved through the window at me as the car pulled over. I blew her a kiss and grinned.

Will kissed me and went in, and I settled back as my driver wove through the traffic towards the office. It was faster to walk from the shop to my office than to drive, but my colleague needed the car today.

Eventually we eased into the private underground car park and I rode the elevator up to my floor. Still distracted and concerned.

At 11am, my gut having been bugging me all morning, I gave in. Telling my PA I was taking an early and long lunch, I hit the street and headed for the shop.

-X

"Hey Kerry," Mary greeted me with a quick hug.

"Hi Mary, is Will around?"

"Yea, he's in the basement doing stock," she frowned as she hurried to help a customer, "he's been down there a while actually, he should come up for air."

I nodded and made my way to the narrow staircase at the back of the store, the door chime tinkling behind me as more customers came in.

Mary and Will had opened their bookstore, a cherished dream, about two years before I met Will, and it was thriving.

Mainly, I suspected, because they were both lovely people who lived and breathed books.

I clattered down the stairs expecting Will's face to appear in the open doorway, but he didn't emerge.

My breath caught as I looked in and saw why.

Will was on the floor, apparently unconscious, about ten feet away. His phone was on the floor next to him.

I yelled up the stairs for Mary and hurried to Will, gently turning his head, "Will? Will, can you hear me?"

Nothing, but he was red and burning up even worse than before. He appeared to be breathing very shallowly and fast. Like a weak pant.

I pulled my phone out and immediately saw no signal.

Shit. "MARY!"

"What?" I heard her pounding down the stairs.

"Call an ambulance, I've got no signal."

She carried on down and looked at Will, "Oh, Fuck, GARY, PETER!" she yelled up the stairs, "Please, Will's hurt."

I growled at her to go up and phone for help, but she didn't hear me over the sound of more boots on the stairs.

When two paramedics appeared in the tiny doorway I realized why.

The second one took one look and didn't hesitate, "I'll get the kit," he said and dashed back up the stairs.

I'll help," Mary said and ran after him.

The first paramedic fell to his knees, grabbing Will's wrist in one hand while lifting an eyelid with the other, "Is he conscious?" he asked me.

I shook my head, "No, I can't wake him."

"Are you Kerry?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

The paramedic flashed a quick grin before pulling some scissors from his pocket and swiftly cutting through Will's T-Shirt and starting to run his hands gently over his abdomen, "We come in here a lot on our break, he's always talking about you."

Footsteps on the stairs again, "The rigs just outside, I'm Gary," he told me. Then yelled instructions over his shoulder of what he needed.

The second paramedic came in and starting yanking equipment from a large bag.

Mary came down slowly carrying more stuff, helped by a stranger.

"Careful on those stairs," the second paramedic said, then quickly, "Hey, I'm Peter. Oh, are you Kerry?"

I nodded.

"Kerry," Gary said, "Can you remove Will's nipple bars please?"

"Sure," I hurried to do as he asked, as Peter and Gary spread various bits of equipment across the small space and sent Mary and her customer up to clear the way and keep an eye on their ambulance.

"People go looking for drugs," Peter explained as he bumped me out of the way politely and started attaching sensors to Will's chest, "Will said you were cute," he added.

"Stop flirting," Gary scolded as handed a small terminal to Peter and went back to running his hands over Will's body.

"I'm not going to flirt with Will's boyfriend," Peter insisted, as he switched the machine on and started noting readings.

Will suddenly moaned and jerked as Gary's hand ran down his side.

"Will. Will, wake up, look at me. It's Peter," Peter set the box aside as he tried to get Will's attention.

I held my breath as Will's eyes flickered almost open, but then he went limp again.

"Shit," Peter complained and checked the readings again. "I've got eyes you know," he said, continuing the earlier conversation, then "I take it Will hasn't had his appendix removed?"

I took a breath as Gary gave me a slight grin, realizing these two could have multiple conversations at the same time.

"No, he's never had any surgery," I confirmed.

"I need to make a quick call," Gary ran up the stairs, leaving me at the mercy of Peter who bombarded me with questions on Will's health, background, and history of drug use (just caffeine), while simultaneously telling me how hot I was, and what good taste Will had, all while inserting four cannulas into Will's arms, two on each side.

My head was spinning by the time Gary came back down.

"Stable?" he asked.

"No, he's deteriorating," Peter replied calmly.

I didn't like the sound of that.

Gary looked at me while shoving equipment out of the way with his foot, "We're not doctors, but it looks like Will may have a ruptured appendix. We need to get him into the care of a surgeon right now. But first we have to get him up these fucking stairs," he glanced behind him, "I can't get the stretcher down here."

I stood, shoving Will's phone into my spare pocket. It was clear I had to keep up with these two, "He thought he had pulled a muscle," I confirmed, "I can carry him."

Gary took a moment to study the narrow staircase, then nodded, clearly unhappy, "Okay, you're going to go sideways, we will have a hand on each railing and a hand on you, but if you stumble our priority is Will. It's him we catch."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," I agreed as Peter helped me lift Will, who groaned briefly and then went somehow even limper.

"Don't stumble," Peter warned.

Somehow we made it up the stairs and shaking with tension I lowered Will onto the stretcher. Helping Gary as Peter ran back down for some of their stuff.

Less than two minutes later, even though they never seemed to rush, Will had fluid of unknown origin dripping through two lines and we were secured.

Mary's concerned face was the last thing I saw as the doors were slammed shut and Peter hit the siren.

"He drives like a maniac," Gary warned, and then rechecked the information and medical history that I had given previously.

I was queasy by the time the doors were opened and even Gary didn't look happy.

Two men climbed in and the first immediately started examining Will, firing questions at Gary, and taking in a pile of information that meant nothing to me but caused his expression to become graver and graver.

The second man took my arm and pulled me out of the ambulance. His name is Paul, and he is both a surgeon at the hospital and a submissive at the manor.

We're not close friends, but we have mutual close friends, and he gets on well with Will.

I didn't speak because I could see he was concentrating on the exchange of information.

Then Will was on the move, Paul pulled me forwards.

"Kerry, this is Mr Rogers, he is the best surgeon in London for a case like this and he needs to move fast so I'll introduce you later."

Mr Rogers gave me a curt nod and looked at Paul, "Are you going to observe?"

"Yes please, I'll be along," Paul said, then turned to me, "Say goodbye quickly, Will has to go."

I faltered, "He's unconscious."

"He'll know," Paul insisted, "Quickly now."

I leaned over and pressed my lips briefly to Will's, "I love you."

That's all I managed before they whisked him away.

Paul looked at me, "Kerry, I'm sorry but I have to move fast. I've been in theatre all night, I'm not safe to operate and I shouldn't on a friend anyway," he told me, "Plus Mr Rogers is the best, but I can stay with him."

"Please," I managed.

"Kerry, call Will's mum, get her here."

"You need next of kin, you need permission?"

"We don't need permission, but she needs to be here," he paused, his eyes worried, "It's serious, Kerry. Call his mum."

I fumbled out my phone, "Please, Paul. Go be with him."

He nodded, "I'm going. This is Claire, she's my registrar, and she's going to talk you through some stuff," he tuned to the young woman who had tired, but kind eyes, "You have my authority to talk to him as next of kin until Will's mum gets here. They're practically married anyway."

She smiled, "Of course, I'll see you later."

Claire waited while I ruined Will's mother's morning and briefly spoke to her herself. Then she explained what they thought was happening, what would be done and gently answered my panicked questions.

She showed me where to wait for Will's mum, Anne. Pointed out a trailer selling what she called drinkable tea and coffee, unlike inside the hospital, and told me where to find her when I was ready. Taking my number just in case.

I called my PA to cancel a meeting with Leslie (Master Aquarius), and then just sat. Waiting, feeling numb.

Less than half an hour later, Claire came back out to find me. I explained that Anne was on route, in a cab, stuck in traffic.

Claire told me that they had confirmed a ruptured appendix, had to convert to open surgery and Will hadn't tolerated the anaesthesia very well at the start so they were currently breathing for him.

"Should I call his mum and update her, or will you speak to her?" she asked.

"No, don't call her, it's too scary. I'll explain when she gets here, and we'll come and find you straight away."

She patted my arm, "He's young and fit. Try not to worry."

I stood, shell shocked and struggling to make sense of what was happening. Hating the fact that everything was so far out of my control.

My phone bleeped, a text from Anne, '5mins x'.

I was stood staring at the message when I heard heavy footsteps coming closer and someone yelled my name," Kerry!"

Looking up I quickly braced as 6ft 4 of solid muscle flew at warp speed towards me.

Alex barely slowed as he reached me and pulled me against him, "Kerry, what the fuck's going on. Is Will okay?"

I pulled back a little, "Where were you?"

"At the park, Leslie called me."

I realized Alex had just jogged or run nearly two miles and the flash git wasn't even out of breath.

"It's his appendix," I managed before another man caught up with us and whacked Alex on the arm.

"Did I say you could run? At what point did I say that running flat out and wreaking months of careful rehabilitation would be a good idea?"

Alex held up his hand, but before he could speak the man went on, "You could re-fracture the leg running on it like that."

Then he turned to me, "Hey Kerry, is Will okay?"

"Hi Craig," this was the man who had guided Alex back to fitness after he was flattened by a car, and he was clearly not happy right now, "No, he's in surgery."

I quickly explained, struggling as it seemed to get harder every time I said it.

"Fuck," was Alex's only comment.

Craig wished me all the best, asked Alex to let him know about Will, and to walk only, before leaving us.

We sat on the bench, Alex wincing slightly.

"You've overdone it," I said.

"It's okay," he rubbed his leg, "Craig's cautious, and mad at me, but it'll be okay."

I nodded but couldn't maintain normal conversation. Alex's arm came around me as I slumped forwards, "Hey, he's gonna be alright."

I shook my head, "He was in so much pain, Alex, but I couldn't wake him up. And I'm thinking about all the things I've done to him."

Alex gave me a shake, "Stop right there and look at me."

I looked up, realizing with a little shock that despite Alex's slightly darker hair and much darker eyes, anyone passing would likely take us for brothers.