Master Bear Read online

  "Ahhh." William unfastened the device and freed Chris's cock. It hardened at once, jutting out, ready for his touch. William tasted the head again, hot and hard, the first salty droplets of pre-come leaking over his tongue.

  He looked up at Chris. "All right, boy, you may come when I fit the second finger into your ass. Not before. Understand?" He reached for the lube and gooped up two fingers.

  Chris took a deep breath. "Understood, sir." William smiled. This was going to be great fun.

  He licked the length of Chris's cock, only the shaft, and avoided the head. Then he lowered his mouth to lick Chris's balls as he eased one finger into the boy's ass. He listened as Chris kept his breathing even, but the tension in his boy's thighs and the way his balls drew up, tightening in preparation for orgasm, told him how much work Chris was doing to hold off.

  He decided not to torture his boy too long. He was eager to be inside Chris's tight ass. He sucked Chris's cock back into his mouth, taking him deep, letting his tongue press all over the whole organ. He added the second finger.

  Chris shot, his whole body spasming, with a shout that almost rattled the windows. He let out a series of smaller gasps as the aftershocks hit, the little spurts that William swallowed against. His boy tasted wonderful. He reached deeper inside, found the soft protrusion of Chris's prostate and stroked it, sparking one last wracking shudder and a tiny dribble of semen across his tongue.

  William licked a little longer, then looked up. "My sweet boy. I want to make love to you but find you have almost exhausted me. Accommodate me, please?" He withdrew his fingers and wiped them on a bedside towel, then slicked his cock and rolled onto his back. "Ride me, boy," he said, sharply.

  Spurred to action, Chris knelt up on the bed and straddled William's hips carefully, making sure not to touch his stomach. William appreciated the consideration. Even with the pain pills, he could not abide having his belly touched. His boy was so perfect. Chris tipped his cock up and eased down on it, engulfing him in tight heat that made him want to pound until he exploded.

  Chris took him all, but did not sit on his hips. William used the small distance and thrust up into him. If he did too much of that, he wouldn't last. Chris bent forward, bracing on his hands, and rocked gently.

  William pulled him down for a kiss. He thrust into his boy, mouth and ass, relishing the sensitive body above him. After a moment, a wash of pleasure swept away any lingering discomfort. He held still for his orgasm, holding his breath.

  Chris sat up and eased off. William could see his thighs trembling with the effort of holding him up. He dropped to the bed beside William.

  William rolled over to cuddle him close. Chris snuggled into his arms. He breathed in the scent of his boy's hair, drank in the sensation of his skin. "My own sweet teddy bear," William whispered.

  * * * *

  The next few days were the last peaceful ones Chris was to know. William seemed healthy enough, although he was often tired from making arrangements. Chris hated the arrangements. He hated the thought of funerals and auctions and wills. It got to the point that someone saying "arrangement" on the radio or television made him flinch.

  He did all of the shopping and more of the cooking. William sat in the kitchen, coaching him, endlessly patient. He treasured those times. Most of all, he watched William, trying to memorize everything about his lover. He wanted to remember it forever. All of it. The way William held a book, the way sunlight fell on his hair. The particular shade of gray his eyes went when he was happy and the sound of his laughter. Chris held these thoughts, going over them like photos in an album when he was alone.

  The next step of the nightmare started when William announced he had invited Jonathan Goldberg over for dinner on Monday evening. Everything felt off-kilter all weekend, from the extra cleaning to the special menu. Chris scowled over the sink as William made him wash the dishes by hand before putting them in the dishwasher.

  "That's a stroke tonight, boy. You're being petulant."

  Chris swallowed. Since he was already onto punishment strokes, he might as well speak his mind. "I don't like Master Jonathan, sir. He's arrogant." He hadn't had a punishment stroke in three months, so if he was going to get one tonight, he would make it worthwhile.

  "That's two. And you're right. But that doesn't excuse your disrespect of a top. I like Jonathan and your kinks are compatible with his tastes. He might do you a world of good, my boy."

  "I don't want a new top, sir," Chris said more the pot he was washing than to William.

  "It's not an option, Christopher."

  Chris swallowed hard and shut his mouth. He knew when William called him by his hated full name that he was in desperate trouble. He was going to pay tonight. William knew just how to arouse him with pain, but he also knew just how to hurt so Chris did not repeat an error. It had been a long time since he'd been called "Christopher."

  William supervised the cooking very closely. Chris thought it was a big waste of time. Special religious diet, of all the dumb ideas. He scowled again, but stirred the broccoli.

  The doorbell rang and William left him in charge of the stove. Although tempted, he did not sabotage the food. He had to eat it, too, after all.

  He ladled out the food, listening as the men talked in the dining room. When William rang the small silver bell, he carried out the tray with the soup and bread. Once each man had a bowl of soup, Chris returned to the kitchen for the short ribs with carrots.

  "Very good, boy. You may eat in the kitchen," William said.

  "Yes, Master." Chris left, wishing he could keep an ear on the conversation. He found it uncomfortable to be discussed when he was out of the room.

  He stole a last glance at Jonathan as he left. Surely William wouldn't give him to this man. From the impeccably polished shoes to the impossibly coiffed hair, everything about him was wrong for Chris. This was not a top that would let him curl up in flannel pajamas and eat oatmeal in bed with him on cold winter mornings. Jonathan was a vain man and the scenes Chris had seen him play showed he demanded the same attention to appearance from his bottoms.

  Even the dinner proved that he was a man devoted to detail. A special menu, plates sterilized before they were fit to hold the fully kosher food, and Chris being banished to the kitchen all told Chris this was the wrong top for him.

  Chris sat looking at his plate of food. He didn't really want to eat. Just the thought of leaving his William, his comfortable, much-loved William, for the rigid, demanding coldness of the arrogant Jonathan turned his stomach. Chris managed two bites of the spare ribs knowing he would need it. William was going to let Jonathan play with him, test him out before deciding.

  He winced at the thought of playing with a top he'd never experienced before and then punishment, too. It was going to be a long night. The bell interrupted his sulking and he cleared the table.

  "We'll take dessert after the scene, boy. Leave the dishes and go to the playroom," William said. "Strip and be ready when we come in."

  Chris did his best not to droop all the way out of the room.

  "Such an attitude," Jonathan clucked. "When he's mine, he will leap to obey or pay the consequences."

  "Peace, old friend. Would you not be a bit dispirited if your love had just informed you he was dying?"

  Chris winced again at the words and shut the door behind him. He stripped down and settled himself in a comfortable kneeling position to wait. The men came in, silent and almost grim. Chris waited, not anticipating or showing his nervousness.

  Jonathan took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. "Shall we begin, slave?"

  Chris rose, keeping his eyes to the ground and walked over to kneel at Jonathan's feet. The big top laid a heavy hand atop his head.

  "You're a pretty toy and William needs the security of knowing you're well cared for. But I don't take raw boys. Let me see you. Display position." He removed his hand.

  Chris immediately moved his thighs wide apart. He locked his fingers behind
his head, with his chin up and his eyes down. He felt very exposed, with his chest and genitals visible.

  "Very good," William said. "Perfect."

  "Don't praise him for basic expectations," Jonathan snapped. "You spoil him. Standing display, boy."

  Chris got to his feet, but kept his legs apart and his hands behind his head. He felt like a prize bull being shown off for auction.

  "Obedience," Jonathan ordered.

  Chris held still. He didn't know that position. "I'm sorry, sir?"

  "Obedience position. English Obedience?" Jonathan's voice went sharp and his hand came down hard across the whip welt on Chris's shoulder. Chris held his position but blushed, ashamed of himself for failing William and making their guest angry.

  Jonathan sighed. "Since you're standing, Whip."

  Chris hoped William wouldn't let this man whip him. Much as he loved the whip in William's hands, he didn't trust Master Jonathan. He took the position at the wall, with his feet braced and his hands planted on the wall. He shook a little, wondering what Jonathan would do.

  Jonathan ran his hands over Chris's back, cool and gentle. He touched the fading bullwhip marks. "Does your master often use single-tails on you?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Pain-slut? Or are you just badly behaved?"

  "Pain-slut, sir."

  Jonathan's hands drifted over Chris's ass and legs. "What is your favorite?"

  "The dark handled one, sir." It was the one William had used most recently. He loved the sound of it and the bite.

  Jonathan sounded more pleased. "Standing display again."

  Chris returned to the position, still shaking a little. Maybe he wouldn't be flogged tonight. He steadied more as Jonathan ran his hands over his body, feeling his neck, his nipples, his back. The touch became more intrusive when Jonathan handled his cock and balls as if they were simply fixtures. Chris blushed as he got hard from the touch. Jonathan circled him and spread his ass a little, feeling his cheeks and running one finger up the cleft. He tried to relax when Jonathan slipped a finger into him.

  "You have a sweet and responsive body, bare minimal knowledge, and a very bad attitude." He pressed the finger a little deeper, then withdrew and wiped it against Chris's thigh. "Present, boy. English Present."

  Chris went to his knees, with them wide apart again. This time he put his hands on his thighs with the palms up. He tried to hold still and breathe deeply, but he couldn't find his headspace with Master Jonathan. He felt himself tremble.

  "Surrender," Jonathan ordered.

  Chris gasped, panicking. He'd never heard of the position. He felt his face flush and his pulse race. He was going to shame William and Jonathan was going to beat him. Then William would add to his punishment strokes. He wouldn't be able to sit for a week if he did this badly.

  But Jonathan just nodded. "Last chance, boy. Humble."

  Chris hung his head, the wave of panic passed. Now he just ached with shame.

  Jonathan stroked his hair with a gentleness that surprised Chris. "You are a good boy. You love your master very much and he does not use these commands, I am quite certain." Jonathan stroked the side of his face. "So, then, let us see how fast you learn. Surrender is a simple movement out of Present or Display."

  Chris waited for the directions, passive and quiet.

  "Go facedown, wrists and ankles crossed."

  Chris went. He knew the movement wasn't as graceful as if he'd practiced the position, but he got into it quickly and with no wasted motion.

  "Back to Display."

  Chris got back up, on surer ground now. Jonathan petted him again.

  "Obedience is also a simple movement out of Display. Wrists behind your back and forehead to the floor."

  Chris obeyed, but his nerves cost him his balance. He knocked his forehead on the floor rather than just pressing it to the wood.

  "What are you afraid of, boy?" Jonathan ran a slow hand over his back. Chris shivered under his touch.

  "Failing you, sir."

  "A wise answer. Very well. You have performed, if not well, at least adequately. Last position, Humble. You spread your legs and arms wide, spread eagle, facedown."

  This was an easy movement from the current position. Chris went into Humble and lay quietly.

  "Very good. Now, back to Present."

  Chris scrambled back up to his knees in time to see Jonathan draw William over to the wet bar for a brandy. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. William never allowed drinking if they were going to play. He wouldn't be beaten and Jonathan wouldn't fuck him either. The last thought pleased Chris more than he wanted to admit. The tops talked quietly and Chris strained to hear. After they finished the drinks, they came back.

  Jonathan bent and kissed Chris's forehead where he'd bumped it. "Be a good boy and maybe he won't give you to Bear." William showed him out, scowling.

  When William returned, he checked Chris's forehead and then pulled him up to cuddle on the loveseat in the playroom.

  He kissed Chris's ear. "I'm sorry, my boy."

  Chris, still feeling a bit shaken by the encounter, held William tightly.

  "He's an old friend, but I didn't know his style had become quite that...ritualized. Last time I saw him in a scene, he was wielding a flogger with abandon that would do a maenad proud and his bottom was about to spend all over the wall."

  Chris shuddered. "No love. Just commands."

  "He has grown colder in the last year," William acknowledged. "He is not a good fit for you, my sweet." He held Chris a few moments more. When Chris relinquished his clutch for something more comfortable, William kissed him. "Put on some clothes now and clean up the kitchen. Then we'll go to bed and cuddle more. You obeyed beautifully."

  "Thank you, sir." Chris got up but William pulled him right back down for a kiss.

  "You cannot be faulted for what I did not teach you." William followed him down and sat in the kitchen, looking very tired. Chris hated the dark circles under his eyes and the hollowness under his finely chiseled cheekbones. He hurried a bit to get to the promised bed-cuddles. William spoke up as he washed dishes. "Michael will be here tomorrow. He's our new home nurse. He'll come twice a week from now on."

  "Yes, sir."

  "He'll help us stay together as long as we can." William pulled him close for a kiss as he passed, not caring about the soapy hands.

  * * * *

  Chris had just put breakfast on the table when he heard a knock at the kitchen door. He opened it to see a tall man with a very short Quaker-style beard and dark curly hair caught in a low ponytail. His scrub-top had Spider-Man on it and his bright red stethoscope matched his pants.

  "Hi, I'm Mike. I'm here to see Mr. Davis?" He smiled at Chris.

  Chris let him in, liking him at once. "He's in the kitchen. I'm just getting breakfast." He stole a glance at the nurse as he went to turn off the coffeemaker.

  Mike sat quietly with William at the table and talked to him. Chris kept taking glances and saw Mike take a pulse and listen to William's lungs. He poured three cups of coffee and offered one to the nurse.

  "Thanks, kid." Mike took the coffee and went back to working with William. Chris returned to stirring the hot cereal. Finally, the nurse packed up his things. "Sorry to keep you from breakfast, gentlemen." He watched as Chris put William's cereal on the table and then showed Chris the chart he'd put up on the refrigerator.

  "You take good care of him for me, okay? I'll see you Thursday."

  Chris stuttered a moment. "I'll try. I'm not a nurse, though."

  "It's easy. See, you can just read it off the chart here." He showed Chris the medicine schedules and when to take William's pulse. "You can take a pulse, right?"

  Chris nodded and read the chart.

  "Easy?"

  Chris nodded again.

  "Good boy. My number is at the bottom in case of emergency. Take care of him. And take care of you, too." He went to the door. "Good morning, Mr. Davis."

  Chris smiled a little
as the nurse left. He definitely liked Mike.

  * * * *

  The next two weeks slipped by. Mike's visits became routine, every Tuesday and Thursday. Chris decided he really liked the big nurse. Mike always asked how he was doing, checked on how he'd kept the chart, and generally treated him like a competent person.

  William hadn't said anything more about other tops, so the day he announced that Chris needed to shop for something nice for dinner because Ian Boyd would be joining them was a surprise.

  "Yes, sir," Chris said and went out. Master Ian was all right, for the most part. He had the usual Napoleon complex that a lot of short doms seemed to develop and he wielded a brutal flogger. Chris remembered the night William had let Master Ian borrow him for a wax scene. He had flown very high that night. Ian found his limits easily, pressed them gently, and took him up another level with a single drop of wax at the right moment. He might be all right with Master Ian.

  Chris served dinner at the kitchen table, at Master Ian's request. He joined them for the meal and listened to the doms talk. He ate silently, not looking up from his plate. Master Ian was funny and smart. Part of Chris was pleased with the way he made William laugh, while part ate him with jealousy.

  He cleared and cleaned up, then joined the men in the living room. William stroked him as he curled up at his master's feet. He looked at Master Ian, subtly, not raising his eyes, but watching the way the little dom mixed a Manhattan for himself and poured some brandy for William. He watched Ian's walk as he brought the brandy over and then made himself comfortable in the other easy chair.

  "He is so cute," Ian said, sipping his drink. Chris took that as a good sign they weren't going to play tonight. "God, William, you look awful. I see why you're in a hurry to get him taken care of."

  Chris flinched. Funny and smart and no tact at all. He wasn't sure he liked Master Ian so well anymore.

  "Chris," Ian said softly, "will you come here, please?"

  Chris startled at the request and clung to William's leg. William nudged him away, toward Master Ian. Under that order, he crawled to the little top and knelt in basic Present position. Master Ian stroked his face.