Goldilocks and His Three Bears (8 page)

BOOK: Goldilocks and His Three Bears
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Brian had to moisten his lips and swallow before he could answer. “Yes,” he said.

“You need a safe word, Brian. You'll tell me to stop before you need me to stop, so you have to give me a word you wouldn't normally use. One you can say when you can't take anymore. Do you understand?”

Brian was breathing harder, his heart in his throat. “Yes. I-I... do. Um. Magnolia.”

“Magnolia,” said Paul, his voice cool and professional, his hand on Brian's ass cheek. “Are you ready, honey?”

“Yes,” whispered Brian.

The whip slid across Brian's ass. “Yes, what?”

“Yes. Daddy.”

And the first blow fell.

It stung. Brian jumped. And yelped.

Another blow. Harder this time. Then another.

Tears started in Brian's eyes. He gasped. Sobbed.

Another. Another, across the first hurt, and it stung worse than the others. Brian cried out again. Paul didn't hesitate now. One after the other, the hits were a rhythm and then a continuous stream of bright pain. Brian flying, his mind bright and free and his voice crying out as if it weren't even part of him.

Then he was sobbing, head on his arms, the pain stopping, Paul's hands on him, the dildo sliding from his ass. He was empty and bright, and then he was filled with Paul. Paul thick and hot inside of him, punching into him over and over. All he knew was Paul's cock fucking him, Paul's big hands holding his hips, Paul's moans. Paul throbbing inside him a hot, comforting presence.

Rolled on the bed, his ass carefully kept off the sheets, then Paul carried him like something precious into the bathroom, slid the harness from his limp body and lowered him into the cool tub. Holding him there, Brian floating with Paul's arms wrapped around him.

Paul's lips on his forehead. “How are you, Brian?”

“Free,” said Brian, clinging to Paul. “I feel free.”

“Sweetheart.” Paul's mouth on his. All that passion there. “Sleep. I'll hold you.”

“Daddy,” whispered Brian. And he did sleep.

“Jesus.” Scott stopped dropping cookie dough onto the sheet and looked sideways at Jim, his ears bright red. “Are you sure that's okay?”

Jim blithely kept beating dough. “Haven't you ever known anyone involved in a Dom/sub relationship?

“I'm a simple boy from Georgia, Jim,” said Scott, shaking his head. “Man lays a hand on another man there, and we call it something else.”

“I am absolutely positive that Brian wants what's happening in there. As a matter of fact, I believe he instigated it,” said Jim calmly.

A particularly loud wailing cry echoed through the house. Scott paled. “I don't know, Jim.”

“Listen... ” And Jim wrapped a big comforting arm around Scott. “You talk to him about it, okay? He'll tell you. Brian is running that relationship, Scott. He really is. Paul is completely under his control.”

“You sure?”

“You've been with us, Scott. You've seen how much Paul cares for him. How careful he is with him.”

Scott poked at the cookie dough with one finger. “Brian's my friend, Jim.”

“I know,” said Jim, and he kissed Scott on the top of his head. “Mine too.”

Scott turned into his arms, let himself be held. It was very quiet in the house.

“It's stopped.” Scott's voice was muffled against Jim's chest. Jim ran his hand up and down Scott's back, into his hair. He kissed him on the head again. Scott tipped his head back to look at him, and Jim kissed his nose... his mouth. Scott's mouth opened under his, like a hungry baby bird's, and Jim folded the shorter man up in his arms and bent into the kiss.

“Man.” Scott's voice was breathy when they separated. “Want you.”

“C'mon,” hummed Jim.

Scott was orally fixated. He freely admitted it. He'd quit smoking, but he still liked having things in his mouth. Especially wide, hard things that stretched his mouth so good.

“Oh, oh, ooooohhhh.”

Jim was enjoying it too. Scott would have smiled, but his mouth couldn't stretch that far. Jim had both big arms flung out on the water bed, big legs shaking too either side of Scott's head. His cock pulsed, and Scott felt the latex of the condom swell. Jim whimpered, and the condom swelled some more.

Way too full for even his eager mouth, and Scott gently let Jim's cock slip from his lips. He nuzzled those fuzzy balls, slipping the condom free and giving Jim's cock one long, longing lick.

Jim lay there, his chest rising and falling. His hand found and petted Scott's head. “I'll roll over,” he said.

“Nah,” said Scott. “Just gimme that big hand there.” Jim cracked an eye open and looked at him sideways.

“You sure?”

Jim rolled onto his side and gathered Scott against him. He ran his hands over him slowly and finally grasped that big prick in spit-slicked fingers. Scott clung to him, legs open, mouth eager under Jim's while Jim pulled his cock with long, sure strokes, jerking him off slowly and so lovingly that Scott curled up and came on a long-drawn-out moan of happiness.

“Thanks, sugar.” He breathed against Jim's chest.

They fell asleep wrapped around each other.

Scott noted the pillow Brian sat on at the breakfast table the next morning, but he chose not to comment.

“Mornin', sugar,” he said, popping him one in the arm. “So when you movin’ in?”

Brian looked at Paul.

“Brian will need us to help him this weekend,” said Paul. “Are you free?”

“You betchya,” said Scott. “You need help packing, Brian?”

Brian shook his head, eyes on his bowl of cereal. Scott studied him. Looked up quizzically at Jim, who was busy at the counter with toast.

“What's going on?”

Jim calmly spread jelly. “Is Brian allowed to speak, Paul?”

“Not today,” said Paul.

“What?” Scott stared around the room at each man. “What the hell?”

Brian's cheeks were pink. He cast a pleading glance at Paul, who shook his head gently. “No,” he said. “Remember.”

Scott slammed to his feet, threw his napkin on the table, and stomped out of the kitchen. Brian's lips compressed, and his face went redder.

Jim sighed. “I'll take care of it,” he said. And he followed Scott into the commotion in his room.

“I don't want to hear it,” said Scott, slamming drawers, stuffing what looked like socks and underwear into a duffel.

“Scott, I understand how it looks to you but... ”

“I said"— Scott jabbed a thumb at Jim—"I don't want to hear it. How can you... just stand there while he... he infantilizes him?”

“That isn't what's happening, Scott.”

Scott zipped the duffel bag with a vicious movement, then sat down on his bed. “Fuck.”

“I'm going to talk to Paul,” said Jim. “He and Brian aren't the only ones involved in this relationship. Will you wait for me to talk to him?”

Scott ran both hands over his head. “Christ.”

Jim sat slowly down on the bed next to him. One of his hands landed on Scott's back. Warm and comforting. “I'd rather you didn't leave.”

“I don't want to leave, sweetie. I... I... ”

“Please,” said Jim, softly. Scott looked up at him, frowned. Put his own arm around Jim's back. Petted the man's chest and let his hand play at the curling beard.

“You okay?”

“Of course.” Jim's hand found Scott's and fondled his fingers, raised them to touch his lips. “I want us all to find our balance here. Can you let us do that?”

“Yes.” Scott's arms came around Jim and held on.

When Jim spoke to Paul later, he tried to explain Scott's position.

“I really hadn't thought of it like that,” said Paul. “I'm sorry, Jim.”

“I think you need to talk to Scott,” said Jim. “I lived in a traditional relationship once. I understand.”

“Did you?” Paul ran a hand over his bald head. The eyes he raised to Jim's were a tad overwhelmed.

“I know what you're going through, man. You need to talk? Ever? About anything? I'm here.”

“Thanks, Jim. I... I've never known anyone like him. I'm so afraid of messing this up.”

“Don't blame you. Brian's special,” said Jim, studying his fingernails.

“You want to tell me what happened to you?”

Jim frowned at his nails for a minute. “No,” he said with a sigh. “I can't yet. But thanks for asking.”

Paul nodded. “We're lucky to have you.”

“Mutual,” said Jim gruffly. “But for now, you have to talk to Scott. He really cares about Brian. And he's worried.”

“Okay.”

“I don't know if I can live here,” said Scott. He sat in a big chair turned so that it faced his bedroom window. His arms crossed his chest. His head turned away from Paul. “Listen to you beating the shit out of him every night... ”

“Scott, it's not like that.”

“Yeah. Sure. Of course, he isn't allowed to speak so who would know.”

“Brian has chosen to be completely subordinate for a week or two. He feels it's important for us to establish that trust... ”

“He trusts you? So you hit him?”

Scott cast an angry look at Paul and was startled to see the man gazing back at him with tears in his eyes.

“I love him,” Paul whispered. “So I give him what he needs.”

Scott studied him. Then he looked away.

“I want to talk to Brian. Okay?”

“Of course,” said Paul. He stood. “Thank you, Scott.”

A few minutes later Scott went back out to the living room and found Brian there, sitting on the couch looking sorrowful.

“Hey, Goldilocks. Where's your keeper?”

Brian looked up at him, his eyes hurt. “He's not... ” He looked away.

“Sorry. Kidding,” said Scott, although he wasn't. Not really. He reached to tousle Brian's hair, then thought better of it and sat down on the couch instead. “So I guess now you've got permission to speak?”

Brian scowled. “You don't understand.”

“Okay. I'm sorry. I mean— ” Scott made an exasperated noise and scrubbed at his face with both hands. “Listen. I was thrilled when you guys pulled me into this thing. Seriously thrilled. But... Bri. What's going on?”

“Paul and I— ” Brian's lip poked out while he thought about it. “I've never had anything like this, you know? I didn't know I needed it. But I do.”

“Like, you need to be punished or something? Wouldn't therapy be better?”

“It's not punishment. It's about relinquishing control.”

Scott blinked. “Oh.”

“I want this, Scott.”

“Why? I mean, he's hurting you, sugar. I'd never let a man hit me like that.”

“He isn't really hurting me, Scott.”

“I heard you screaming at him to stop, Brian! I heard. Christ almighty, honey, was that a whip?”

Brian's cheeks went red. “Yes.”

Scott stared at him for a beat and then looked away. “Shit.”

“I'm not injured, Scott. It's pain like tattoos are pain. It hurts, and then it's over. There's a feeling of... release. I feel much calmer afterward. Peaceful.”

“There's drugs for that,” said Scott, sarcasm coating his words.

“It isn't a regular part of our relationship, Scott. It's a symbolic act that makes
me
feel better. Total submission. And he did it because I needed it. Because I wanted it. Please try to understand, Scott. You're... you're my friend. That means a lot to me. I haven't got a lot of friends out here and... well, you're more than a friend, Scott. It's like you're my brother.”

“Kinky,” said Scott. He didn't sound amused.

“Just try to understand.”

“I can't watch him hit you.”

“I wouldn't want you to,” said Brian. “That's something between Paul and me that we're still feeling out. But if you saw a scene, maybe you'd understand.”

Scott regarded him with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes Paul and I do a simple submission scene. It... helps when I'm feeling anxious or I've had a tiring day. It helps us both. A couple of times Jim has been there. Let me ask Paul to include you in one. Maybe if you see the dynamics, you'll feel better about the whole thing.”

“What if it bothers me too much?”

“Then you can stop,” said Brian, shrugging.

Chapter Seven

Scott sat nervously on the bed, looking at his friend who knelt silently on the floor. The harness hadn't really freaked him out. He'd seen it before. Hell, he lived with a couple of leather daddies. He'd seen guys walking around in public in them. At the Faultline, at the Pride parade. Brian's silence was a little unnerving, though— his stillness even more so. He'd never seen Brian go so long without talking.

Jim sat next to him, big hand kneading his shoulders in a comforting manner. He ran those thumbs down Scott's spine so that a little chill accompanied them, and drew Scott's shirt off on the way back up to his head.

“Oh. Okay. All right,” Scott said. He turned to Jim, who was unbuttoning his own shirt. The hairy pectorals and the nipple ring emerging. There was something so comforting about Jim's big hairy chest— and when Scott ran the palms of his hands over Jim's nipples, something so erotic. Jim's eyes went hot as he brushed the ring. Scott forgot everything else for a moment and went up on his knees and kissed him.

Jim's hands on his hips, Jim's eyes glowing at him as they separated made Scott shiver a little.

“Help me undress, Scott?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Nothing wrong with handling that beautiful cock. Down came the zip, and out it popped. Oh yeah. Juicy as a piece of rare sirloin. Scott's mouth watered.

“Wait,” said Jim, as he was about to go down on him. “We have to wait for Paul.”

As if on cue, the bathroom door opened and Paul emerged. As if his size and tats weren't intimidating enough, the man was clad in leather and boots. He didn't even glance at Jim and Scott, instead walking straight over to the largely naked, kneeling Brian, whose eyes remained cast down. Paul stood over Brian, silent, drawing a long, looping black rope from a hook on his big studded belt.

Crap
. Scott shivered. Jim's hands were there immediately, warm and soothing over the gooseflesh trailing down his back, and Scott leaned into his touch. Felt warm breath near his ear, the softest touch of lips.

Paul let his hand cup Brian's head, his fingers weaving themselves among the curls. Nothing hurtful, but Scott could tell that Brian wouldn't be able to move his head now. Then Paul unlaced his pants and drew out that inked cock.

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