The Negotiation

+Author PSA: The first step to any successful scene or negotiation. Mah bois may have done this a little late...

Content Warning: Super awkward coming out conversation.+

###Danny

When Cyrus showed up at my door Sunday evening, I was agog in shock. The week had been another long boring cycle of classes and volunteering. There was a pep in my step caused by coming with Cyrus in my ear. Jinnie noticed, asking about my silver fox friend. I gave her a coy wink just to keep her interested in the topic but not give her any details. The woman was a chatty catty and loved Twitter.

Cyrus had texted me an hour ago: Are you home?

I replied: Yes.

He immediately sent back: Stay there.

He didn't answer of the texts I sent after driving my curiosity and anxiety up. Did I fuck up? I didn't do anything of note this week except...

I stared at him at my door, his suit pressed within an inch of its life and peppered hair slicked back. His expression is unreadable. I don't let him in, guarding the dorm room with my body. I asked him the first thing that popped in my head, "How did you know which dorm room?"

His expression doesn't change. "I pay for the housing."

Right. He pays my tuition, housing and trust fund even though I'm out of the house now. I took the rest of the bills to pay for myself out of the trust fund. I leaned against the doorframe and asked, "So what did I do wrong this time?"

He blinked. "I came to tell you I sent the payment."

Yeah sure. "In person? Trying to give me another chance to be bad, Cyrus?"

His expression shifted to something curious, like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. His tone flat, "Have you been bad, Danny?"

I wasn't in the mood to have this conversation tonight. Still, I couldn't help pushing buttons, "Why ask when you know already? You must really like making me earn my punishment. Or maybe you just want to leash me again, Cyrus?"

He studied me again. "It's not a leash Danny."

I was being vindictive, "Oh right. Sorry. My collar."

He was very matter of fact, "You are too much of a brat to wear a collar, Danny."

I huffed, my patience wearing out. "What do you want, Cyrus?"

His eyes drilled into mine, his lips thinning. "That's a complicated question, Danny. And an answer I would rather not have in the hallway."

"Yeah well, this is where you are going to give your answer." I put some steel in my voice, what little I could conjure in his presence.

His cheek twitched like the times I displeased him but he never said anything. His eyes flipped through mine, finding the answer he had been searching for this entire conversation. At least his tone was questioning, "Your father called?"

My eyes widened slightly. He didn't know? There's no way my father didn't call him right after. "Are you here to see if I told him you mouthfucked me?"

I hit a nerve. His tone was tight. "No. You are an adult Danny. We don't need his blessing to fuck."

I met his temper with my own. "Sure the fuck stopped you for the first two years. Now you just want to play with me like a dirty secret while my father's away."

I watched his eyes sear into me. He contained his temper far better than I. "What did he say to you?"

I smirked, marking a victory on my tally board. "Did you know French pussy is just as delicious as American pussy?"

I watched him will his expression into something soft and empathetic. He took a step toward me. He took the air from my lungs as he stood before me, his very presence willing me to give into him. I could feel the voice inside me stop screaming, the need to submit pressing against my skin in anger's place.

His voice was tender, like he was coaxing a child to stop crying. It hurt me to hear his voice this soft. "Let me in, baby."

I dug my heels in, giving one final tug of resistance against him. I kept my tone curt, his words unfair. "What do you want Cyrus?"

He gave in to the truth, one he couldn't bring himself to say for the last 2 years, "I want... to fuck you. Break you into a million pieces, put you back together and fuck you again. I want to bring you ecstasy and agony. I want to drag you down into the filth with me and lift you up to be all I know you can be. Give you more agency than you've ever had. Make you my submissive. My pet and my baby."

I was speechless. He wanted to fuck me. But. He just wanted to control me too. I looked at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm won't wear another collar. I already have one."

His fingertips found my chin and forced my eyes to meet the truth in his. "I would never collar you, Danny. You have all the power in this dynamic. You always did."

I gave him a disbelieving look. "What are you talking about?"

"You let me punish you because you wanted me to. You let me tell you when to come because you wanted me to. Submission is a choice."

It was true. I wanted both of those things with every fiber of my being. I wanted him to command me, force me on my knees and punish me. I still wanted that submission, even now. I repeated the words I said to him before he put me on my knees, "What is my safeword, Cyrus?"

"Hyperbole." It was a whisper.

I looked at the floor as I let this dangerous man in my dorm. He would make me submit. He would make me beg and cry. He would hurt me and not just physically. And I would want him to.

He scanned the dorm, finding the private room small and quaint. He turned to me, his face still gentle. "What did your father say, baby?"

I pinned him with my gaze. "That's not fair."

"It wasn't an order." He stated sure and soft as a down comforter.

There was an awkward pause. I muttered out, "He wants me to start attending board of director and other meetings when he gets back. I told him I'm busy with school. We argued. It ended the usual way it does. He made it personal. I got mad."

"Have you tried compromising with him, Danny?"

I snapped. "You're not my therapist." I looked at his calm, agreeable expression and felt guilt. I took the edge out of my voice. "There's no point. He will get his way in the end. Either by force or by threat."

"You can leave anytime Danny. You have a savings built up."

I did. Just in case my father pushed too far like he did with mom. It wasn't much but the money was enough so I could get a job. I raised my voice. I couldn't help it. "It's not about the money Cyrus. If it was just that, I would have left years ago. He'll take everything. He'll rip school out from under me. He'll black ball me from every university and business he has ties with, which is the whole damn city."

Cyrus cut me off. "You're his son."

I raised my hands, "That doesn't mean shit. Look what he did to James in the merger. He cut him out entirely and told everyone about the his affair with his secretary. They were friends for decades..."

He was quiet, recalling the drama with my father's business partner James after my father merged with another HR company. It was ugly and I hated my father every minute he hurt one of his oldest friends. James was one of the few people who acknowledged me for me. "I don't even really care about the blackballing. I can just move to New York or something. But...he'll take my...last name." I curled into myself.

He whispered again. "Your mother's name."

I felt the despair thicken in my throat. I blinked away the burn in my eyes. My chest hurt. Oh god, it hurt just thinking about her. How my father pushed her even in the end. I held my arms, feeling as powerless as I did the day she died. I stared at the cheap gray carpet at my feet. I felt Cyrus slowly tentatively put his arms around me, holding my shoulders and neck in a comforting embrace. I swallowed my grief, wishing against everything I could go back and redo everything. I would never forgive my father. Ever. My voice was hoarse. "I can't lose that too, Cyrus."

"I know." His nose touched my messy hair.

There was a long silence between us as I soaked up the comfort he gave me. Cyrus came after my mother died but saw firsthand the hole her loss left in that huge mansion. Not even my father would talk about my mother. I felt his warmth on my cheek as I ruined his perfect silk top. I could hear the steady beat of his heart in his chest. His hands cupped my hair and my back. We just stood there in silence and breathed together.

He finally cooed at me, "Let me take care of you Danny."

I couldn't keep the pain out of my voice. "Why?"

"Because I couldn't before. I can now."

"Because you want a BDSM dynamic with me. Not a relationship."

"There is no difference. A dynamic is a relationship." He was being matter of fact again.

I pushed him away. Could we go two minutes without arguing? There were daggers in my eyes. "Are you even attracted to me?"

"Yes." His tone gave nothing else away.

I gave him another disbelieving look. I was a child by comparison. Codependent and inexperienced. I knew it. I knew how unbalanced this whole situation was. It was the only reason I didn't give into him already.

He pinched my chin, holding me in a branding stare. "You drive me crazy, Danny. I've spent so many nights wanting to fill that bratty mouth and use that barbed tongue to come. Now I want to take care of you like I should."

His words shot straight to my core, kindling a fire I didn't acknowledge until that precise moment. It made me squirm a little in his hands. We had spent years poking and prodding at each other. I was right. He did go back to his condo and touch himself too. That's why he wanted to be my Dom now. So he could drive me crazy before he fucked me. So he could punish me how I liked and he wanted. We were cut of the same cloth. Pushing and pulling on each other to frustration. Now we would push and pull until we both came. "Will it end when my father returns?"

His eyes sharpened to a knife's edge. "No. I already told you we don't need his blessing."

I said these words nonchalantly so he wouldn't know how they affected me, "Then I agree to be your submissive, Cyrus."

I saw his tongue run along his teeth in his mouth. His hand let my chin go. "Do you have any hard limits?"

Fuck. We were doing this now? "Scat. Knives and branding. Drowning. Exhibitionism is a soft limit... I won't be a puppy or anything like that." I listed what I could think of.

"Have you ever done impact play? Bondage?"

"Not like this. Not... seriously."

"Then we will have to negotiate before each scene to make sure you are comfortable with what we are about to do. I would also like to do the stoplight system to ensure everything is good for you during the scene." He explained like he had done this before. He almost assuredly has done this before.

God I'm in over my head. We were going to fuck too. What am I doing? I wanted him to tie me up and fuck me. Oh god. OH. GOD. He wants to fuck me and...and.... I agreed to this and... FUCK.

He cut off his next explanation after two words. "Danny?"

My eyes snapped to him. I stumbled out an explanation, the panic in me rising. "I-I got...ahead of myself. We are going to do all this and I... we haven't even had the talk."

"We should both get tested to make the anxiety less of a factor. I default to protection for all penetrative sex. I am completely willing to do so for oral sex and fingering." He was back to matter of fact.

I agreed with him. That's how I operated when I was being responsible. "Yes. Yes. That's not the talk I was referring to. I was talking about the parts talk."

His eyebrow rose.

This was no time to mince words. Not with the impending panic in me. "I'm transgender."

He blinked. "Yes. I know."

What? How? Did he really figure it out from my vague descriptions on the phone? "Um..."

He looked at my expression and explained how he knew. "I paid your top surgery bill and paid for your pharmacy bills while you were at home."

Right. Why else would he know? I got my top surgery a year ago when he was in my family's employ. I get hormones monthly. The panic in me came down to a simmer instead of a raging boil. "You didn't say anything."

"I believe that's inappropriate to do so."

Right. It would be. He just paid the bills and used the right pronouns without much thought besides. I felt conflicted about all this. It means he made his sexual propositions knowing I was trans. It also meant he knew I was trans without me telling him. He handled it the right way given the situation. "Are you bisexual?"

His eyes were thoughtful. "Yes. Although it's somewhat nuanced."

"What's that mean?" I questioned him.

He tapped his chin. "I prefer male subs. I normally separate kink from intimacy, although you seem to be the exception."

That is nuanced. I supposed he was older, making his tastes more specific as he learned what he enjoyed.

He asked me in return. "What about you?"

I answered reflexively. "I'm pansexual. I'm pretty much down with whatever." I thought of another question I should have asked sooner. "Are you single?"

"I'm polyamorous. And no. Though she and I are distant currently."

A shot of hot anger ran through me. I should have asked this much sooner to avoid these messy feelings. My stomach clenched. Could I live with this arrangement? "Are you in a dynamic with her?"

"No. We are romantic. She is uninterested in kink."

Wow, this whole conversation was a lot to process. I would have to be completely okay with this situation in order to move forward. It's not like I had a lot of monogamous feelings. I didn't get jealous that easily. I imagined him kissing a beautiful woman in designer heels. I wasn't jealous. I wasn't even on the same level. I was 20. I was a spoiled rich kid. I was... a mess. Yet he still wanted me. He still wanted to fuck me. Did I really rile him up that much?

He was analyzing my face, trying to read my mind through my eyes. "Having second thoughts?"

I needed to be sure I could handle being poly with him. He wanted us both. Just for different things. That meant I could have other partners if I wanted something just romantic. He would my Dom and I would be his sub. I could deal with that.

"No."