Shy Guys Make Good Boys Pt. 02

"Yes, Mistress."

She was in high spirits that night. I liked the thought of it, too, when we both knew that meant I would spend a fair bit of time at her knees, worshipping her pussy later. If I was really lucky, she'd let me serve her asshole too, something that always made me burn. "Good boy toy..." I grinned with the wicked sound in her voice, loving her for it. She stroked my hair back in that soft way she had after she did something rough. It reminded me of all the nights when she'd chain me for her amusement, making me take whatever she wanted me to take when I usually wore my anal toy and cock cage all the time now. Sometimes it could be something domesticated like making me kiss up her boots for minutes at a time so that she could stare down, excited off of degrading me. Other times, it was far less so, where she would take off my cage only to spend time flogging the fronts of my thighs, periodically making sure the strands snapped down on me where I was wildly hard from it.

Still other nights, she'd introduced me to a fucking machine, something that made me shiver to think about.

But afterwards was when I was allowed to serve her in softer ways, when she was comforted and okay to allow that kind of submission. I loved getting to curl up at her feet and manicure her nails, methodically cutting and then filing. It sounds weird, but it was softer and when I was done she always let me snuggle her, carefully so I didn't mess up my work. She'd even let me experiment with little rhinestones and patterns, let me play with different strips of glittering tips. She let me form lightning bolts and Mickey Mouse outlines, seashell patterns and shimmering tips.

It always struck me as a kind of balance in the same way she balanced roughly holding me by my hair with petting me so gently. I couldn't keep from gently laving her fingers where they filled my mouth, adoring her.

Nathan's voice made my eyes snap wide and I had forgotten that he was the one person who could out me. "If it's any help in his case, he saves me almost every day doing what he does and he's been very good since he started wearing your collar months ago."

I went still, swallowing nervously. Mistress had said a thing or two over our time of dating that made me realize just how bad I really had been, you see, how much I really had misbehaved. See, even over the past few months when she'd intensified things and I'd kept my revelation a secret for myself, she would mention the collar sometimes. For instance, she would ask me if I would prefer her to hang onto it when I went home. Small things.

But she had never commanded me to it like she had with the cock cage. Even if we played long distance, I was guilty in the sense that I knew she didn't think of me as being in her collar then. And it was one of those things that I kept to myself along with how I felt about my status to her when I didn't want to bother her with it.

Because, er... I sort of never took the collar off after she gave it to me, except to keep it clean.

Mistress' hand tightened in my hair again because she knew that control comforted me most when other people were around. "Oh?" I swallowed, trying to discern the sound in her voice. She had a kind she used when she was trying to hide her emotions. Sometimes she wanted to hide it far more than others and even if I could tell something was hidden, even I couldn't tell entirely what.

"Mhmm. When he wears it, he's... phenomenal."

I silently thanked him. I usually kept it hidden but he'd caught me a few times when I had taken my jacket off. Even if the collar wasn't discreet, I didn't want to be without it. I thought about the rest of his words though and those made me curious. Did I really work that much better?

Now that I thought about it... he was probably right. She made everything better when she steadied me with command.

Mistress' voice allowed me an insight into how she felt. It was softer and I felt a kind of relief, having been concerned she would be stressed after knowing that. "That does go in his favor. But I'm still pissed after finding out you have to drag him to anything, when you make sure he doesn't even have to do conferences. He's introverted, not a child. Go, you."

It made me snicker, skipping when she shoved me forward, when even these damned boring parties felt like a dirty secret. Of course, I still had some underlying nerves... And she wasn't kind enough to release me from those. "Mistress, I-"

"Later." Her eyes were direct and they sparked, but it made me anxious anyway. She chuckled at the sight of my nerves and I thrilled to the thought of being made to amuse her when we walked into Hall's mansion together.

She made me wait in a rare form of sadism, made me stand at her side while she watched me glance at her every now and again. It was only for an hour but it might as well have been an eternity. I took her hand when she commanded and she smiled at the look in my eyes. "Worried?"

"Yes!" I kept my voice down and she grinned.

"You should be."

Oh no. At least the last time I had been misbehaving at one of these had ended with my meeting a goddess. This time I hadn't even been misbehaving at the party. I'd just been doing it... well, everyday when I wasn't with her for a few months, but still.

My thoughts spiraled away from Mistress' fun and she did intend it to be fun, I knew, a playful little game where she made me antsy while commanding me to hold her hand or fix her hair. But I couldn't keep it from getting away from that with thoughts of those few secrets I had kept.

Oh, God. But you knew she didn't think of you like that. It would have been one thing if I'd have just been wearing her collar all that time, but well... Don't even think innocent. You kept tugging on it so you could think of her controlling you.

Okay, yes, but it wasn't in that bad of a way!

Oh, God. What if it was? What if this all made me a bad boy? I had never crossed her rules! What if it was crossing her rules if I knew I was her slave and couldn't say the safewords she always gave me, but wasn't saying anything? That was the kind of thing that made a difference, right, when it involved both people? What if all of this was me being bad? What if I made her punish me? Mistress wasn't a sadist! She didn't like giving pain. What if-

"Oh, my God, Ryan, my game is getting way out of hand."

"I'm sorry." She was staring at me with this look of playful exasperation to soothe me. "I'm really sorry. I have to tell you something."

Her smile gentled. "Ryan, whatever it is, it's okay. Come on."

I followed her and my anxiety somehow only intensified when she led me outside, holding my hand, when I realized she was going to talk with me in private finally. Although, maybe that was good. I wasn't playing a very good escort of a boy toy when I was so distracted with my own awful guilt. "I'm sorry," I said instantly. "I should have told you about the collar but it started as this innocent thing, it really did, just my being silly or something, but it became more than that and now it feels wrong that I didn't tell you and-"

"Ryan."

"And now I think I've probably done something really kind of messed up and it's maybe this awful thing to you when you trust me to tell you when things are too much, you know, and I know that it has to be this anxiety of being a top and that it has to be unfair to you now that I think about it but I didn't really think about it before because I couldn't tell you when to stop, I just couldn't, but none of it was too much-"

"Ryan, I know."

I froze where she had led me to Hall's garden, where there weren't a lot of people and she had easily found a place to let me have a moment. "You do?"

She smiled. "Not all of it, but I'd be lying if I said I was innocent, love. Tell me something. Why haven't you really posted that story?"

I glanced to the ground, realizing that she knew the rest of the reason why. Because the reason had changed. It wasn't so much that I was afraid of those desires anymore. It was... Well... "My muse sang all about you. What if I wasn't good enough? It doesn't seem like I could ever do someone like you justice when you're a goddess and what if people don't like it? It'd feel wrong against you somehow, that I didn't paint your picture with enough color in my words."

Her eyes were so gentle. "You want to know how I knew that it changed? I wasn't sure quite what the terror changed to, but I knew it had, you see, baby, because you started writing again. A lot. And you smiled when you did it, when before you sometimes seemed kind of frustrated when talking about it. But Kara Rhys has still been silent."

That was true enough. I could write again, but it still wasn't coming out quite right when there was a story that was already down and hadn't been shared at all. And that was her story, which only made it worse somehow. It was another guilt of mine that I wasn't telling the one tale that mattered the most to me. Truth be told, I might have been able to live with that, if the story I'd written didn't also somewhat confess my other, worse guilts, if it didn't have my far too romantic thoughts.

"I could see that, Mistress."

Her eyes danced. "Ryan, I'm sorry."

I blinked. "For what?"

"You're right. Some things aren't fair to do to tops, but I think maybe you're being too hard on yourself. Because sometimes tops are just being fucking morons. Sure, we trust you to stop us, but we also have eyes and a brain, or at least most of us do."

I held out my arms to ask her permission and then gently hugged her when she granted it, stroking a hand across the backs of her shoulders. "Oh, Mistress. You make it necessary for me to be a bad boy toy sometimes when I'm torn between needing to scold you for being too hard on yourself and not wanting to be disrespectful."

She laughed and I grinned with the victorious thought that I had managed to bring her pleasure. My Mistress wasn't very kind to herself, I had learned, although she had nothing at all like self esteem issues. She merely held herself to a higher standard than she would ever hold another to. "That's not what you should scold me for, little plaything. You should scold me for not calling a little slave toy what he is, when you already obey everything I say."

I nuzzled her hair happily, feeling like ecstasy off of her saying the word outright like that. It made her laugh again and she pressed me away from her so that I grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I sometimes forget where we are."

Her laughter turned harder. "Sometimes? Wicked thing. And are you sure you want me to think of you like this? If I'm not nice to male submissives, I'm definitely not nice to something lower than that."

Lower than that. I wanted to shudder at the wording of that and then realized that Mistress was being wicked when she kept her eyes forward and grinned a little, when she knew how much I had started to love her degradation. "Yes, please, Mistress."

She paused a moment. "Well, then, I have a few problems to fix. Slaves really shouldn't be allowed to leave during nights of the week."

I couldn't keep from laughing a little. "You bring up a very good point, Mistress. I've gotten way too much time off. It's far too much freedom for any plaything to have."

"Exactly. It's just wrong really and not very effective slave training."

Oh, God, there were certain phrases and words she could say that would make me strain against my cage. I liked the thought of "slave training" a little too much. "It really doesn't at all."

"And now that you're such a slut for being fucked, just making you wear the cage while you take it once during the week is really too nice. I think three times would be a decent reminder for you. It's really quite kind, actually, when it's the lesser half of the week."

On, no, it just got worse. I shuddered. "I... I could see that, Mistress."

Her laughter made my heart sing, though. "That was one to make you stutter. Little boy toy, you're still too cute for your own good."

"Thank God for that, Mistress."

She kissed the back of my hand. "Ryan, I do need your permission for one thing, though. Just one." I glanced at her when that made me a little wary, but she smiled. "Every now and again, I'd like Courtney to play with us at Sulfur's, as opposed to how she usually just watches and taunts you or makes suggestions."

"Y-yes, Mistress."

Her glare made me give her a sheepish, apologetic smile, but I couldn't give a different answer. Courtney kind of scared the hell out of me, when she really did turn out to be a purest form of sadism. I had finally gotten to see it when she orgasmed off giving a man a caning, when his sounds and the way he'd jarred with torture had thrown her over the edge of pleasure. Mistress had made me watch with her hand harsh in my hair while I sucked my cum from her thong, which she'd used as my gag. Courtney had grasped her sub's hair and sank her teeth into his neck like a wolf, feral while she rode out her lascivious high against his thigh where he was chained. Let's say I had a healthy fear of her, enough that it made me curl into Mistress' side while I'd watched.

Mistress shook her head wryly before she answered. "To comfort you, it's just because she's bitchy enough to tell me when I'm being stupid."

Suddenly, I understood. It made me tighten my hand in hers briefly, in a soft thanks, when I knew why she wanted to keep her friend close. I wouldn't try to trouble her with some things and she was too much my perfect goddess to sometimes move things forward, when she was so careful and always had been so careful. Sometimes I didn't think she could see it, but I could. She remained distant, that was true, but there were some things that she kept back out of concern when I was too submissive. I had first realized it during scenes, when she would watch me so closely and when she would back off of an intense moment to check in with me. Her eyes were different with each time and maybe to her it felt like a weakness.

I thought she was beautiful for it. "I don't think I would use those words, Mistress, but I think she would make things a lot easier for you. And I would be grateful for that."

Sonya, the goddess. She tugged me closer and she was quiet for a time before she finally spoke again and it was with a different voice, one of her commands. "Live with me, Ryan."

"Yes, Mistress."

She smiled. "Also, I mean it. Post the damn story and go back to writing. You're turning obsessive."

"I would hate to be obsessive, Mistress."

She gave me a narrowed gaze and I grinned, thinking that at least the ways we didn't fully match each other were more on the entertaining side, while our romance was more on the darker side. Because, well, it's really quite a bit better than the other way around.

I thought it was insightful of my perfect goddess to think of adding her friend in playtimes, when so far in our relationship, those necessary steps had to be prompted by external factors. It made me thrill to the thought that Mistress never once considered the shortcoming as something that would impede her way. It made me horny actually. You see, to me things like that were stressful, obstacles that I didn't handle very well.

My Mistress, the woman, that vexing entity named Sonya Moore... She calmly recognized a problem and, almost like swiping an irritating fly, came up with an idea that she thought would mitigate the problem, without breaking sweat or so much as flicking a perfectly manicured nail, one that I had decorated when she had allowed me the delight of serving her that way.

I lowered my gaze when she walked me back to the party area, my pulse a thunder in my ear. I couldn't take my eyes off her for the rest of the night but I couldn't bring myself to look directly at her when a goddess like her commanded respect.

Her slave. I already thought that I might have been that for a long time to her, but what would it become if she fully thought of me that way? She had already proven to me that she truly was not as kind and playful to male subs, that she could effectively, with harsh intent and terrifyingly dainty grace, break someone like me with nothing but her sensual touch. Instead of my anxiety of having to confess to her, I had a delicious thrill that had changed with the magic of her domination games, with my consuming need to serve her pleasure. It was darker again and it was my preferred fear to feel now. She took away all those things that made me afraid in the bad ways and gave me these new ways, things like a fear of what I was about to beg of her that night.

I don't know what it was about the night, besides watching her almost snort in disdain at a problem that got in the way of her enjoying her domination over me. She hadn't used me before we left that night and Nathan had caught me with her, but Nathan had already seen me with my collar and that thought didn't humiliate me. Well, it did in a way, but it was more of a way that made me feel happily subhuman, inferior.

And I loved that. I loved it, you see, because the truth was I had been thinking of myself as her slave and I would have never brought it up to her if an external force hadn't brought it up, but I spent my nights imagining her calling me that, having me that way for real, instead of my serving her in my quiet, secret way. It made me feel selfish sometimes, how badly I'd wished she'd tighten my collar and have what she willed of me, that she'd treat me as something far less than human, a creature of service and nothing more.

When we got back to her place, though, after watching her through the night and after she had used that one magical word... "Baby, one more time. Are you sure you want to keep going farther?"

I hesitated and then resigned myself to my one selfish moment. "Please tell me to get on my knees, Mistress."

I couldn't just do those things even then, when I didn't want her to feel uncomfortable with how closely subservient I had become to her. Beyond that, the acts felt strange and dramatic for the time being and, though I loved them so much, I wasn't a very dramatic person. For the time being, I couldn't just get on my knees for her. I couldn't just beg.

That was the reality behind my selfish desire. I wished I could be able to get on my knees like that, to just bow when we were finally alone and to feel like it wasn't dramatic at all.

Mistress smiled a very gentle smile. I don't know that she fully understood the entirety of the desire, as she wasn't a mind reader in the same way that no one was, but there was an understanding in her eyes that said she could guess a few emotional ideas. "I suppose that lets me know where this might be headed, Ryan." She cupped my cheek. "Do you know that I should be scared of how close I feel to you, but I can't even find that in me when you are so purely the way you are. I've never actually gotten so close to dating someone in the way that I've gotten with you and..." I kissed her palm when she let me, studying her curiously. "And the thing is that you're so submissive, baby, that we never even directly said we were exclusively dating. And you just let me get away with that."

"Oh, that." I held her closer when her shoulders were a little tense, in a way that I'd learned meant she could use some warmth and support. "It was okay. It was always okay. You never had to directly say so, Mistress. I just knew." I grinned and touched her nose. "If I may, Mistress, you don't quite seem to have a problem with the emotions you feel when you have control. But if directly saying the words makes you uncomfortable enough to avoid it so, then I'll find my security in other ways."

Her eyes took on a cast that made me warm in a way that started in my heart. "Get on your knees, Ryan," she finally said softly.