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    By His Rules

    Page 6
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    kissed Aiden, plunging his tongue deep into Aiden’s

      mouth, claiming him.

      “Your training’s going well,” Scott said. “I thought

      you deserved a reward.”

      He ran his fingers along Aiden’s cock, tracing the

      ridge below the head. Aiden arched his back, rubbing his

      cock against Scott’s hand.

      “Shh. Not so fast,” Scott said. “Spread your legs.”

      Aiden did. Scott rolled on a condom and lubed

      himself. He pressed a finger against Aiden’s opening,

      circling his target, making Aiden squirm.

      “I want you to beg for it,” Scott whispered.

      “Please, Sir,” Aiden said.

      “Please what? What do you want?”

      Aiden lifted his hips as Scott continued to circle his

      asshole with one finger, pressing against the opening but

      never breaching it.

      “Please put your—put your finger in me. God—

      please—”

      “Good boy.” Scott plunged a finger inside him.

      “Oh God… ”

      “Stay still while I finger fuck you.”

      Aiden tried his best to hold still. Not to yelp or

      twist or ride Scott’s finger. Scott added a second finger,

      then a third, stretching him, and Aiden moaned with

      each of Scott’s thrusts.

      Scott pulled his fingers out.

      “No!” Aiden begged.

      Scott quirked an eyebrow. “No?”

      “I mean—please, Sir. Don’t stop.”

      “My cock’s going to feel even better in you,” Scott

      said, positioning himself at Aiden’s opening.

      Aiden had received countless fuckings from Scott

      since his training began, and usually Scott’s cock hurt.

      This was different. Scott entered him slowly and waited

      for Aiden to relax and accommodate him before he began

      thrusting. He angled his thrusts to hit Aiden’s prostate,

      and soon Aiden was clutching the sheets, yelling with

      abandon as Scott pounded him.

      “Gonna come,” Aiden warned.

      “Not yet,” Scott said, ramming him harder.

      “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Aiden panted. “Scott, I

      can’t—”

      “You’re gonna do what I say.” Scott smacked the

      inside of one thigh.

      Aiden gasped. “Yes, Sir. Oh God… ”

      “Come for me now, little boy.”

      Aiden’s face grew hot at the words “little boy,”

      even as his balls and ass contracted and he came,

      shooting onto his belly and the sheets. He panted and

      begged incoherently as Scott continued to fuck him past

      his orgasm. Scott came a moment later, emptying himself

      into the condom. He pulled out, rolled Aiden onto his

      stomach, and spanked him. Slow, hard slaps that made

      Aiden wince and wriggle against the sheets.

      “Move that ass for me, boy. Hump my bed.”

      Flushing, Aiden rocked his hips, rubbing his cock

      against the soft cotton. The slaps came faster, the sting of

      them melding together into a perfect surface heat that

      spread from Aiden’s hips to his thighs. Scott forced his

      legs apart and spanked his crack, his asshole, his inner

      thighs. “No,” Aiden moaned, rocking against the bed.

      “No no no no… ” His cock was hard again and chafed

      against the sheets.

      “Yes,” Scott growled. “You do as I say. You hump

      until you come. I’m going to spank you until you do.”

      Aiden almost lost his mind at Scott’s promise. So

      humiliating, yet so hot. Scott spanked his ass, alternating

      cheeks, the slaps ringing in the dim room. Aiden’s

      rubbed-raw cock wept and throbbed, and he humped the

      mattress so hard the bedsprings began to protest. Finally

      he came, thrusting his ass up into the air as the cum

      spilled out of him, and Scott peppered his flaming butt

      with a last volley of spanks. “Oh!” Aiden collapsed.

      Scott chuckled.

      “Your ass is the color of a Christmas sweater,” Scott

      said, palming the sore flesh, digging his fingertips into

      the most painful areas.

      Aiden moaned.

      “How do you feel?”

      Aiden tensed with surprise. Scott never asked him

      this. Was it a trick question? “Good, Sir. Tired.”

      With a last pat to his blazing rear, Scott pulled the

      covers over Aiden. “Sleep,” he said.

      As Aiden drifted off, he heard Scott go into the

      bathroom. He really did feel good. This was the kind of

      thing he liked—being ordered around, pampered,

      spanked… Scott had delivered a hard spanking, but it

      wasn’t like the whippings he usually gave Aiden. There

      would be no lasting welts or bruises, no broken skin. Just

      this delicious ache, the feeling of being claimed and

      kept.

      He slept.

      * * * *

      When he woke, Scott was snoring beside him. The

      clock read 3:06. Aiden slipped out of bed and went into

      the living room, opening his laptop and pulling up his

      grad school applications. He’d hoped to log a couple of

      hours on them tonight while Scott was asleep.

      “Describe the qualities and accomplishments you will

      bring to this graduate program.” How the hell did he know

      what qualities and accomplishments he’d bring? He

      placed his fingers on the keyboard but couldn’t even

      think of an opening sentence. Shit. He was never going to

      get in. Both Case Western and Irvine had hundreds of

      applicants, all of them probably better actors than Aiden.

      Stop it, he told himself. He was a hard worker,

      dedicated to his craft. But between Joe’s Steakhouse and

      coming here for training, I’m losing time I could spend honing

      my craft. He chewed a hangnail until it started to bleed.

      He didn’t even notice Scott standing in the doorway until

      Scott cleared his throat. Aiden jumped.

      “What are you doing?” Scott asked. He was naked,

      the bulges and furrows of his muscles catching Aiden’s

      cock’s interest even as his throat tightened with fear.

      “Working on grad school apps,” Aiden said, trying

      to smile. “It sucks.”

      Scott folded his arms across his chest and leaned

      against the door frame. “Grad school?”

      “Yeah. I want to get my master’s in theater.”

      “You’re gonna spend all that time and money to get

      an advanced degree in theater?”

      Aiden blushed. “I don’t actually have to spend any

      money if I get into a good enough program. They’d

      waive my tuition and give me a stipend.”

      Scott stepped into the room. “What are the odds of

      that happening?”

      “Um. Case Western accepts eight applicants every

      other year. And UC Irvine’s about the same.”

      Scott laughed. “You’ve got a better shot at winning

      the lottery.”

      Aiden bristled. “It’s competitive. But if they like my

      audition and my interview… ”

      “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

      “An excuse?”

      “To avoid the real world. Stay in school as long as

      you can. Don’t get a real job.” Scott stood beside the

      couch. His half-hard c
    ock would have made Aiden ache

      with hunger if he didn’t resent Scott so much right now.

      “Will graduate school really make you a better

      actor? I mean, you either have it or you don’t, right?”

      “I’ll learn new techniques. And I’ll get experience in

      professional productions.”

      Scott shook his head. “It’s your life. Just seems like

      a waste of time to me.”

      “It’s not,” Aiden said hotly, hating that he sounded

      like a petulant kid.

      Scott raised his hands. “Whatever you say. You’re

      not really expecting to get in, though, are you? With

      those odds?”

      Aiden looked down at the paper in his hand. “I

      don’t know,” he mumbled. “We’ll see.”

      “Put it away.”

      Aiden looked up.

      Scott nodded at the application. “Put it away. I

      didn’t say you could get out of bed.”

      “You were sleeping—”

      “You want to piss me off?”

      Aiden closed his eyes. “No, Sir.”

      “Come back to bed. I need a blowjob.”

      Aiden shut his laptop, turned off the light, and

      followed Scott down the hall, trying not to stew. How

      did Scott know Aiden wouldn’t get in? He’d never seen

      Aiden onstage. For all Scott knew, Aiden was a brilliant

      actor and would have all his top choice programs vying

      for him.

      But a voice inside his head needled him, telling

      him the reason he objected to Scott’s words was that

      deep down, he knew they were true. His odds weren’t

      good. Maybe grad school was a waste of time. If he was

      going to be an actor, why not start now? Move to a city.

      Start auditioning.

      But what if Aiden couldn’t be an actor, period?

      What if he wasn’t cut out for anything more than waiting

      tables at Joe’s?

      Scott snapped his fingers. “Let’s go, Shithead.”

      They were back to Shithead. Aiden looked at the

      superb body sprawled on the bed and tried to reclaim

      his good mood from earlier in the evening. The bath had

      felt so good, the sex had been so hot… Scott had dropped

      the brutal master act, and for a short time, Aiden had felt

      almost like they were lovers. But now Master Scott was

      back, waiting for Aiden to serve him. He didn’t care

      about Aiden’s life, Aiden’s future plans. He cared only

      that Aiden jumped when he snapped his fingers.

      He took Scott in his mouth. There was a time he’d

      thought he had a talent for this too, but now he felt self-

      conscious about giving blowjobs. In addition to pointing

      out what Aiden was doing wrong, Scott liked to describe

      how Aiden looked while he was giving head—red-faced,

      sweaty, contorted. Ugly. Tonight, though, Scott was

      silent except for his moans as he fucked Aiden’s throat

      and a growl of displeasure when Aiden gagged on his

      dick.

      When he was done, Aiden swallowed and curled

      away from Scott. Scott slept instantly, but Aiden stayed

      up the rest of the night, worrying that he had no future at

      all.

      Chapter Six

      “Don’t tell anyone,” Hera said, “but I’m taking a

      class at the community college.”

      “You?” Aiden feigned shock. “You hate school.”

      “Calm down. I’m not getting a PhD or anything. It’s

      a pottery class. They have better supplies than I do in my

      studio. And I’m actually learning a lot.”

      “Next thing you know, you’ll be at State. Rushing

      sororities, partying every weekend… ”

      “Shut up. This is a one-time deal. It just happens to

      not be as terrible as I imagined. I’m getting enough crap

      from Sloane, so you can save it.”

      “It’s just that you’re, like, so anticollege.”

      Hera shrugged, keeping her eye on the tubs of

      salad dressing she was refilling. “I really like Professor

      Hughes. You would too. He’s way handsome. And he’s

      into the scene.”

      “What scene?” Aiden asked, handing her another

      jug of Italian.

      “Your scene, dumb-ass.”

      “How do you know?”

      “Just a guess. He showed us some illustrations

      from a Dutch printing of Juliette, by the Marquis de Sade.

      Crazy stuff—men and women tied up and whipped,

      lines of men with their cocks up each other’s asses… ”

      “That doesn’t mean he’s—whatever.”

      “He’d be a sexy top.”

      “Wait, did you say Professor Hughes?” Aiden was

      so tired it had taken him a minute to put two and two

      together.

      “Yep.”

      “What’s his first name?”

      “Keaton. Ridiculous, right? But kind of hot.”

      “Oh my God,” Aiden said.

      “Do you know him?”

      “I saw him at the club a couple of weeks ago.”

      “So I’m right!”

      “I don’t—maybe. He didn’t seem interested in

      anyone there.”

      “Not even you?”

      Aiden shook his head. “He barely looked at me.”

      “That must be a first for you. Maybe he’s not really

      into the lifestyle. Maybe he’s just researching.”

      “Yeah.” Aiden’s mind whirled.

      “Where’s the Thousand Island?”

      Aiden handed her the tub. “We should go to Obey

      tonight.”

      “We?” Hera raised an eyebrow. “What would I do

      at an S&M club?”

      “We should see if he’s there.”

      “Gross. I mean, he’s hot and everything, but I don’t

      want to see him in assless chaps.”

      “You could totally embarrass him. You love

      subverting authority.”

      Hera looked thoughtful. “That’s true. I would love

      to see the look on his face if I came up to him in a leather

      bar and started making small talk.”

      “So you’ll come?”

      “What about Master Scott? Hasn’t he banned you

      from flirting at Obey?”

      “Not specifically. I mean, I can’t go home with

      anyone else. But he didn’t say I couldn’t go at all.”

      “Good. I was starting to think you couldn’t move or

      speak without his hand up your dummy ass.”

      “It isn’t that bad,” Aiden muttered.

      “No? I haven’t seen you eat a meal in weeks. Does

      he let you eat?”

      “Of course he does. I’ve been eating at home.”

      “Your pants don’t fit. You’ve got a length of extra

      belt hanging practically to your knees.”

      “Shut up.”

      “You don’t look healthy. You look exhausted and

      half-starved, and what you’ve told me about Scott scares

      me a little.” Hera stared at him until he had to turn away.

      “I’m fine.”

      “The hell you are. Do you have any idea how many

      times I’ve had to cover for you the last couple of days?

      I’ve refilled your tables’ water glasses, brought ketchup

      you promised but never delivered, split checks you

      printed out as single… ”

      “I did all that?”

      “Yeah, champ, you did. So let’s go to Obey and find


      you some big cuddly bear who likes fur-lined cuffs and

      feeding you grapes. And you can forget Scary Scott.”

      “He’s not scary.”

      “I live with two women. Our menstrual cycles are

      synced. I know scary. Your top is scary.”

      Aiden laughed.

      “I’m serious, Aiden. That man is bad news. Bad.”

      “Do me a favor and keep your nose out of it,

      okay?”

      “Okay. But don’t come crying to me when he—”

      “Hera, shut up.”

      Hera wiped a ranch streak off the counter with a

      paper towel. “Hand me the house Italian,” she said.

      Under her breath, Aiden heard her mutter, “Dork.”

      * * * *

      They didn’t see Keaton Hughes at Obey, which

      Aiden found inexplicably disappointing. What had he

      planned to do if Keaton was there?

      Obey catered primarily to gay men, and some of

      the patrons cast Hera suspicious looks as she and Aiden

      made their way to the bar. But Hera could interact with

      anyone, and Aiden ended up feeling like a heel when he

      finally pulled her away from a group of tops she’d

      engaged in a conversation about some cake-decorating

      show.

      “You ready to go?” he asked. “I’m beat.”

      “Just let me finish my drink,” Hera said.

      As she drained the last of her cocktail, Aiden

      glanced around. His stomach plummeted. Scott was

      standing by the basement entrance, talking to a couple of

      twink subs. He looked up just as Aiden’s gaze fell on

      him. “Shit,” Aiden whispered.

      “Done,” Hera said. She looked up at him, then

      followed his gaze to the basement door. “Who’s Mr.

      Beady Eyes there?”

      “That’s Scott.”

      Scott’s face hadn’t changed expression since he’d

      spotted Aiden, but he dismissed the two twinks with a

      nod and continued to stare at Aiden and Hera.

      “That’s Scott?” Hera said. “I was expecting someone

      hotter.”

      “He is hot,” Aiden said, annoyed.

      “He’s well constructed, yes. But he doesn’t look

      nice.”

      “So?”

      “So he looks creepy, not sexy.”

      Scott approached them, and Aiden tried to keep his

      heart rate under control.

      “What are you doing here?” Scott asked.

      “He’s showing me around,” Hera said, giving Scott

      a less than friendly stare.

      Scott glanced at her, then looked back at Aiden.

      “Looking for someone to go home with?”

      “No, Sir,” Aiden murmured, embarrassed to be

     


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