The Brownstone: Michael Ch. 03

He gave me a weak smile and once again made the decision of what we will do by saying, "Let's shower...Peyton is downstairs so I'm sure breakfast is almost ready."

Peyton did have breakfast ready for us when we finally made it downstairs. I still couldn't seem to find the words I felt I needed to say so we ate an uncomfortable breakfast in relative silence. Charles simply sat across from me staring at me. I think silently he was trying to will me talk to him. Several times he did try to start a conversation but I couldn't seem to be able think of anything interesting to say and remained silent.

When breakfast was done Peyton stood at the side of the table and waited for Charles.

"Michael, yesterday we talked at length about the lifestyle at the brownstone, specifically Dominance and submission."

"Yes...I remember." I said nervously thinking - Oh boy here it comes.

"Well..." he started speaking again this time more nervously trying to gauge my mood. "I told you that when Cecil died and left me the brownstone it made me the Head Master."

"Is that same thing as being a Master?" I asked innocently.

"That's a difficult question to answer. I am the Head Master of the brownstone. I do avail myself, on occasion, of the submissives in the house. And..." He looked at Peyton and then back to me. "Well I am also responsible for Peyton."

"I don't think I understand...is he your submissive?" There was no way I could mask the total horror in my voice. Was he building a private stable of submissives?

"No! No...no he's not...but...well...Peyton is...um...Peyton has..."

"Sir, if I may..." Peyton said interrupting. "Mr. Michael, I do not enjoy the company of other men in a sexual sense. In fact I do not partake in sex at all. My relief comes from certain aspects of BDSM, mainly masochism and humiliation..."

Scanning my eyes from Peyton back to Charles I searched for answers. "I have no idea what any of this mean."

"Michael, years ago Peyton's father was Cecil's personal butler. When Cecil died I inherited his household staff and his father became my personal butler. Peyton and his father came to live with Mary and me on the estate in Washington. Peyton had just turned 18 and was following in his father's footsteps working under his tutelage to eventually be my butler, or valet as I prefer to call him when his father retired. Peyton was painfully shy and as I came to find out a very confused young man. For the first months he lived on the estate I didn't even know he existed, but then when I finally met him it seemed wherever I went on the estate I would always catch him...um...well...sexually pleasing himself. He was especially fond of my wife's prized rose bushes. When I finally approached him about it I told him that if he wanted to masturbate he had to do it in front of me. At least this way I could control him and prevent him from getting caught.

"The deal became that he could only masturbate in the morning, before I left for work, and in the evenings, when I returned from work. During our 'sessions', when he masturbated in front of me I found out that Peyton enjoyed me talking dirty to him and well treating disrespectfully basically humiliating him - an aspect of the lifestyle that is prevalent at the brownstone. I explained to him that he wasn't the only person that enjoyed being humiliated and told him about the brownstone. With those large puppy dog eyes of his he begged me on bended knee to let him go there and for three years, until his father passed away he found the happiness he had always sought. Peyton was an exemplary submissive and has the distinction of being the first and only submissive the brownstone ever had that has never had sex.

"But Peyton, like his father, was a man of service and presented himself to me as my new valet. I accepted him with the understanding that he would have to continue to masturbate for me every morning and that I would be his humilator when we weren't at the brownstone at which time he could make himself available to other Masters that enjoy inflicting pain and humiliation."

I just shook my head. "So what you are saying is that Peyton wants to masturbate for you right now?" I asked not believing any of this. Mutely I was praying that this was all a dream and at any moment I was going wake up and I would be in Charles' arms bringing this nightmare to an end.

"Yes sir, that is correct." Payton said dropping to his knees. "But only if I have your permission too, Sir."

"Please, don't let me stop you." I said sarcastically. Charles smiled weakly, not sure how I was feeling about any of this. Snapping a finger Charles nodded to Peyton who unzipped his pants, took his cock out and started stroking himself.

"He won't cum until I tell him he can cum. It's been three days now since I've allowed it, hasn't it Peyton?"

"Yes Sir." Peyton said obviously enjoying what he was doing to himself.

"Michael, please remember Rule #2 -- Keep an open mind? Please don't judge me too harshly it's just a part of who I am...who we are..."

Still staring at Peyton I asked. "So his masturbating in front of you is humiliating?"

"Sometimes it is, most of the time it's just for relief...there are many ways to humiliate."

"What will you make him do today?"

Standing Charles paced around the room thinking. "I don't know. Maybe you can think of something?"

"No Charles, I can't..." My voice was dry, at that very moment all I wanted was to be as far away from this place as I could get.

"Ahhh...but because you are watching him for the first time it WILL humiliate him...he knows what we've been doing and even though he won't say it there is a part of him that is jealous that I took a lover...it's not that he wants me, he just doesn't want to see me with anyone else. My talking openly like this humiliates him."

Peyton's face was bright red, but he kept stroking his cock being driven on my Charles' words. "We could do this...I could tell him what I want him to do...then when you feel he is ready you can snap your fingers and he will do it. Peyton loves to serve anyone that will treat him unfairly, don't you Peyton..."

"Yes Sir, I do." Peyton answered immediately.

"No...no...thank you." I said. My breakfast was rumbling in my stomach and I was afraid the any minute I was going to lose it.

"Well then I guess I'll have to take care of it...when I look at Peyton on the floor like he is...I wonder what it would be like if he were to cum on the floor and then be forced to lick his cum up...using just the tip of his tongue...so it would take a long...long...time."

I looked at Peyton. He was in such obvious pain with the need to cum. Raising his hand up Charles snapped his fingers and slowly nodded his head to him. A small groan escaped from Peyton's lips as he thanked him and shot his load in a thick line across the kitchen floor. When he was done he got on all four and began, with just the tip of his tongue, licking every drop of his cum up. Each time he lapped up a drop he would stop and thank Charles then continue on. It took ten long minutes for him to finish his task. While I sat starring with disbelief that I was watching this, fighting off impending tears, Charles stood behind me rubbing his now hard cock against my back. When the last drop disappeared into his mouth he crawled over to us, thanked us and asked to be excused. Charles nodded his head and Peyton was gone.

"I am going to fuck you now Michael" he said when Peyton was gone from the room. He seemed to be commanding me, like a Master would command his submissive.

"I...I...can't Charles. I'm sorry..." I said standing. "I can't do this." I walked quickly from the room.

He called after me...but stopped there...he didn't follow me, thank goodness. He was astute enough to know that I needed my space to digest everything that was happening. I sat on the bed for a few minutes trying once again to digest this life Charles was asking me to take part in. I knew I was panicking and before I did something stupid I tried to calm myself down but the more I tried to calm myself the more upset I got until suddenly I couldn't breathe. I need to get out of there. I needed to be away from this world Charles had created.

I dressed quickly, grabbed the few items I had brought with me and slipped quietly out through a side door. It didn't dawn on me until I was half way down the driveway the unnerving prospect that I was stranded on Cape Cod. On Wednesday when Charles had suggested we continue our weekend we left so quickly I grabbed my already packed backpack but accidentally left my wallet on the dresser in my dorm. I knew that Charles would have been gentleman enough to give me the money for the bus fare, but my having to ask him or even face him again was more than I could handle.

I still couldn't get the picture of prim and proper Peyton on his knees shooting his load like he did...and it excited Charles. He wanted to fuck me after watching Peyton lick his own cum from the floor. Is that what turned Charles on? I realized at that moment it wasn't only Peyton that had been humiliated earlier, it was also me. Charles was trying to draw me into this part of his life without any regard to how I might feel about it.

I followed the long driveway down to the main road and strained to remember which way he had come in. It had been so late the night we drove to Cape Cod and I was so enthralled with everything about Charles that I wasn't paying attention.

My thoughts were flying at a mile a minute. How could I have been so stupid? He didn't want me, he wanted some stupid-ass farm boy that he could control and call his submissive. He wanted to do to me what Cecil had done to him -- make me commit myself to him body and soul. Throwing my backpack on my back I started running. I had to stop thinking, especially about Charles and all the baggage he carried with him. I needed to clear my head. I picked up my pace, by running I had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and clear my mind of everything but moving my body.

Twenty minutes later I ran into one of many small villages that dot the Cape. It was eerily quiet but that didn't surprise me. It was nearly winter time and a long holiday weekend. Luckily I found a lone gas station open where I was told that a daily bus arrived and departed at three o'clock. In my backpack I found my secreted stash -- a $10 bill that I kept in there for emergencies and hoped that would be enough to get me at least part of the way back to Boston figuring that I could hitch the rest of the way.

I had a two hour wait for the bus.

********************

"Mr. Michael?" It was Peyton tapping me on the shoulder. "Mr. Charles has asked me to come and get you."

"Please thank Mr. Charles but I respectfully decline his invitation." I said, trying to sound like the rebellious submissive he probably thought I was.

"Please Mr. Michael he wants to speak with you."

"Go away Peyton." I said frustrated that he wouldn't leave me alone.

"I can't go sir, he has told me if you won't come back with me than I am to stay with you and make sure that you are safe."

"Then make yourself comfortable Peyton-ole' pal because I'm not going back there."

Frustrated Peyton walked back to the car. It only took a moment for Charles to emerge from the back seat of the car. "Walk with me...please...Michael?" Even his voice was confused what role he was trying to fill...the Dominate, the concerned lover, the friend?

"No."

"Five minutes, that's all I ask...your bus won't be here for an hour, please give me five minutes."

Reluctantly, to hopefully shut him up and make him leave, I stood and walked towards him.

"I was wrong." He said while we walked the sidewalks around the village. "I should not have exposed you to that side of my life so quickly."

"You were wrong about other things too Charles."

"Please tell me."

"You were wrong to think that I would ever want to be a part of that lifestyle at all Charles. Was it your plan all along to entice me, make me want you so badly that I would do anything you asked of me? I won't be your submissive Charles. I won't let anyone control me." I was being too emotional but for some reason Charles had this way of bringing out emotions in my I didn't know I had.

Charles only smiled. "Michael, trust me when I tell you this...the farthest thing from my mind is making you my submissive. I have a fucking house full of submissives back in New York that I can control whenever I desire. No Michael, I want to be with someone that is a lot like me. I want to have vanilla sex and also hot-fuck-shove your cock up my ass and bang me to hell sex...I want a partner but more importantly I want you Michael.

"I know you don't know anything about my world, or the world of D/s. I was forced into the world by a very sadistic man. I didn't understand anything that was happening. Please don't misunderstand what I'm saying I cherished almost every minute I was with Cecil, but when you strip away everything, he was a cruel and unrelenting Master. He loved to inflict pain. Pain was his control. What he didn't understand was that he had me the first time he fucked me, he didn't need to do anything else."

"Are you a Master now?"

"A Master? I like control Michael. When I was with Cecil I gave up that control and although I enjoyed the time he and I had together I knew that it would be short lived. I have to be in control, it is the only way I can function. If that makes me a Master than yes I am. The reality of this whole thing is that I haven't been happy for a long time, maybe that's why I was looking for you to come into my life."

"And you think you can have that with me?"

"Only if you want to take this journey with me..." He stopped and turned to me. "I lied just now. I do want to do this with you...more than I have ever wanted to be with anyone in my life."

Charles sat with me on the bench waiting for the bus. I hadn't said anything since he told me he wanted to be with me more than anyone. We all seem to be able observe people better than we can ourselves. I looked at Charles and saw a 43 years old man that had everything that life could offer -- good looks, money, power, but more importantly confidence. He exuded it. Here was a man, worth who knows how much sitting next to me, he was dressed casually but impeccably in his designer slacks and sweater, hell his shoes probably cost more than my tuition for the semester. Then, if I turn to me and observe myself, a 19 year old KID dressed in my roommate's hand me downs. People have said I'm good looking but not having anything to compare it to how do I really know, two years of education and all the smarts I can ascertain from a book? What is it that he sees in me that would make him want to say 'more than anyone'? I felt like it would be trying to compare a lump of clay to a finely chiseled Rodin.

"Would you mind if I ride on the bus with you to Boston?" He asked.

"Why would you want to do that Charles?" He was confusing me even more.

"I'm not ready to let you go yet. Please let me have just a little more time with you." he whispered.

"I don't think so Charles..." I was losing the battle, the tears were there and I couldn't stop them no matter how much I tried. "I...I'm...not going...directly to Boston..."

"Michael?"

"Why can't you leave well enough alone?" His eyes bore into me. "Fine! If you have to know, because you to have to know everything, you have to control fucking everything! I don't even have the fucking bus fare to get back to school" I cried and walked away from him. I was stripped of whatever small amount of dignity I had left.

"Please Michael let me..."

"No Charles!" I screamed. "Why can't you understand I don't want you to pay for me? I don't want 'things' from you. All I wanted was to be with you, not the hotel, the clothes or even fucking bus fare...nothing...please Charles if you really do care please...I just want you to leave me alone." I walked away and for the first time since Tuesday evening I wished I had never met him.

Peyton found me behind the gas station. "Mr. Michael...I know this is difficult for you, but please Mr. Charles is truly sorry...for everything. He has asked me to take you home."

At that very moment I was so over both of them. I just wanted them to leave me alone. "Do you have $20 Peyton?" I asked.

"Yes sir."

"May I borrow it? I will send you the money when I get back to Boston."

Peyton handed me two twenty dollar bills. I asked him for his address which he jotted on a piece of paper and gave to me. Before he walked away he leaned into me and whispered. "He really is a good man Michael if you can ever find a way to give him a second chance."

I sent Peyton back his money first thing Monday morning with a brief note thanking him for helping me out.