Lake

I brush off the rush of anger Wish brought on by hanging up on me and slip my phone into my pocket. I wouldn’t have answered the call at all if the second Wish walking beside me in the alley hadn’t insisted. “He might get suspicious,” the second Wish said.

“So. Where are we going?” I ask.

“Plan A’s a bust because Wish is there right now, but I have a plan B.”

“Don’t you mean ‘the other Wish’?” I’m not sure I’ve wrapped my head around the fact that there are two Wishes in Wish City. I should probably let the real one know eventually. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s the real one. Or the first one. The one from my past life.

“You can call me something else if it makes it easier for you.” Wish points at my wrist and the little star-shaped mark there. “Star, maybe? Like wish upon a star.”

“You should get rid of this tattoo, actually,” I say. “It’s rude to ink a person without their consent.”

Wish frowns. “There. Now it’s gone.”

I inspect my arm, and sure enough, the tattoo has vanished. Good. “I could call you Wish #2.”

Wish glares. “That’s really rude.”

“How about Twinkle? Because you’re so much twinkier than the other Wish.”

Wish gasps this time.

I can’t help but push it further. “You’re a sub, too, aren’t you? Want to be under someone’s shoe?”

Wish crosses his arms and glowers at the skyscrapers shining in the afternoon sun. “I told you. I’m whatever you want me to be.”

“Some inexperienced subs tend to say that.”

“Well. We are inexperienced that way. Wish is embarrassed about even being interested, because we do like to be in control, too.”

“That’s obvious.” No way Wish doesn’t get off on being so powerful. He loves that type of attention, or he wouldn’t have taken the leadership role he had in life. He could have hidden his power like I did. Only my parents knew about it. My mother slapped me in the face when she first saw my tears tattoo.

“Wish didn’t do much kinky stuff in the Earth dimension,” says the other Wish. “He had to move around a lot, so he couldn’t really have equipment. But when people he hooked up with wanted to get kinky, he was usually into it. Some of them had toys.” Wish takes a turn into a nice neighborhood. All the houses have manicured lawns and brick-and-siding faces. One has stone lions out front, another angels.

“You don’t need equipment to be kinky,” I say.

“Wish didn’t want to get attached to anyone. Intense sex can lead to feelings, and he doesn’t want those.”

“Ah.” I can’t fault him for that. I couldn’t get attached to any partners, either, or they would have found me out. Maybe they would have reported me to the government or told someone and they’d report me. But aren’t we free here? Can’t we get attached? “I’m into some heavy things. You can’t handle it.”

“I’m not him.”

“Then why do you say ‘we’?”

“Because we started the same, but now we’re different.” Wish beams at me. “May I hold your hand?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. First a candlelit dinner, now this? “No. Tell me about plan B.”

The hurt is obvious in Wish’s face, but he doesn’t push. “We’re going to a BDSM dungeon.”

“Really?” I imagine Wish must need a point of reference in order to create a dungeon, but this Wish talks as if they’ve never been to one. “What did you base it on?”

“We’ve been to one. One time.”

“Experts, then.”

Wish pouts, an expression I never expected to see on that face. “You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

We stop outside a house with shuttered windows and no sign of life aside from the several cars parked outside. Wish walks in like he owns the place, which I guess he does. A guy in a harness is manning the door, and he gives us both a stamp on the hand: a red bull. How many marks will litter me by the time this night is over?

Behind the guy in the harness is a little sitting area buzzing with chatter as a group of kinksters socialize. Wish may have only been to one dungeon, but this is about what I would expect at any kink event.

“Come on.” Wish leads me to a door that opens to a set of stairs. Yells and slaps filter up and get louder as we descend into the basement/dungeon. My blood heats. This is run-of-the-mill kink stuff, but it’s been a while since I’ve been to a place like this. My attendance at fetish parties has always been sporadic. The last time I went, I found a novice and showed him the pleasure of a flogger, but he balked when I mentioned tears.

I clench my fists. I’m an outlier, even here.

Wish gets uncomfortably close and whispers into my ear, “It’s okay. May I touch your arm?”

I nod. It’s not really polite to talk in play rooms when people are scening, and there’s leather and wood and red skin wherever I look.

Wish holds my arm loosely and strokes the underside. I shiver, but it’s not unpleasant.

Wish tugs me over to a leather sofa, and we sit. He presses the outside of his thigh to mine. Across from us, a woman lies on a spanking bench while a man takes a wooden paddle to her ass, the implement thudding harshly into her flesh.

I put my mouth to Wish’s ear. “Did you bring me here to play with you?”

He nods, shifting his ear against my lips.

“What do you want?” I whisper. “And don’t ask what I want.”

“Please. I don’t know.” Wish says it at full volume, but this is a pre-scene negotiation now. This couch is probably for spectators, yet there isn’t anyone in here aside from those playing. And Wish owns the place, so it doesn’t matter.

“Straddle me,” I say.

Wish positions himself on top of me, but he’s tense, trembling. He won’t look at me. It’s cute.

I hold his burning cheek and try not to get too excited. Will he allow me to administer discomfort? Will he let me ruin him and put him back together again? “What’s wrong?”

“If I’m not good enough, we lose our chance with you.”

I find myself smiling. There’s a very slim chance Wish knew of me before I died, so what is this? Love at first sight? Was my lukewarm response to the sex really that devastating for him?

I bring Wish’s face close and look into his terrified eyes. “You like me, huh?”

Wish skims my face with both hands. “Yes. So pretty, small, hard, closed-up.” His words come fast, breathy. “You tell us not to touch you. You don’t care. You don’t roll over. You’re not impressed. But you think we’re sexy, or you wouldn’t have let us take you into the bedroom. You’re not a follower.”

I toy with one of Wish’s soft earlobes. “But I am.”

“No! You’re different.”

“I’m not different. I watched you online. Read about you. Kept tabs.” I get a good grip on Wish’s hair and press a kiss to his cheek.

He melts like I’ve tongued him, and my whole groin throbs.

“You like your hair pulled?” I ask.

“Like to be kissed,” he murmurs. “Y-You kept tabs?”

I use my hold on Wish’s silky locks to align our mouths and barely touch our lips together. Wish whimpers, and I chuckle.

“How could I not?” I ask. “You wanted to be the leader of all specials. Then I heard about your Heaven, and I wanted to go.” I whisper the next part into his ear. “I killed myself for you.”

Wish squirms and slides his hands under the flaps of my jacket.

I grip his wrists and force them behind his back.

“Please!” he shouts.

In the back of my mind, I remember we’re in a room with other people, but they don’t matter. Wish and I are in an invisible cage. We’re like insects in a jar with brains too small to focus on more than one thing at once.

Wish’s wrists pulse in my grip.

I pant into his hot neck. “What do you want?”

“I want you to use your power on me.”

It takes a moment for the words to compute, but then somewhere beneath my arousal, anger swells. Wish is only saying this because he thinks he knows what I want. And I do want that, but I’m not a puppet. I graze his neck with my teeth. “No.”

“Do it!” Wish struggles in my grip, so I let him go. But he doesn’t pull away. He nuzzles into my neck, the soft flesh of his face tickling me and making me shiver. “Do it, Lake. I want you to. Please.”

“But you don’t.” My voice cracks. I touch him beneath the jacket, finding smooth, burning skin. “You feel rejected because I didn’t lose my mind for you. That’s it.” But I’m losing my mind now, I think.

Wish pulls back enough to cover his eyes. His shoulders shudder as he makes melodramatic sobbing noises, but it’s fake. It’s so fucking fake.

I grip him by the lapels and give him a shake. “Are you sure? You won’t try to rough-fuck me in retaliation?”

Wish gives my cheek a delicate stroke. “If anyone’s fucking anyone, it’ll be you inside me. Just use me, Lake. Use me like a drug—that’s what I want.”

It’s as if Wish is speaking directly to the most hidden part of me, and it feels good. I surrender to him but also to my power. Sorrow. Sorrow, sorrow. Tears, pain, a twist in the chest, the urge to fall to one’s knees. Sorrow for Wish. Tears spilling from those beautiful eyes and snaking down red cheeks.

He freezes, and I wait for him to hit me or growl or otherwise fight back despite all his assurances. Instead, he drops a hand onto my thigh and gasps, sliding his pained gaze up to mine. Tears well and spill, and his brows droop together.

I hold my breath. He seems to hold his, too.

I hit him with another wave of power.

He screams and grips the lapels of my jacket, under which I’m sweating now, and presses his nose to mine. “Hurts, Lake.”

I’m hurting, too—almost. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on, and affection explodes in my chest for this creature on top of me. He doesn’t feel like the other Wish felt, but he feels perfect. I’m going to come so hard with him.

I kiss his tear-soaked cheeks. “You’re alright. Time for pleasure now.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Wish murmurs.

I hold his face and meet his eyes. They’re blue and still dripping like little oceans, glistening puddles. But they flicker away from me.

“Did I do okay?” Wish whispers.

I swallow against an unbearable punch of arousal. I love when they get like this: all weak and needy and desperate for care.

I kiss Wish’s temple as I reach to undo his trousers. “You’re doing perfect.”

“Perfect,” Wish echoes.

He isn’t wearing underwear, and his cock is hot and hard in my hand. I kiss his neck and breathe in his scent, but behind him, strangers play with cuffs and a whip.

I want him in a bed where no one will disturb us. “Can you take us somewhere private?”

In a second, the people are gone, and Wish and I are in the middle of a huge mattress in a candlelit bedroom.

He meets my gaze shyly. “Better?”

The intimacy is like a heavy cloak draped around us, and I nod and push him back onto the bed. Finally, I get out of my coat and peel the silk shirt from my sweaty skin. The sudden coolness gives me goosebumps.

Wish shoves his pants down and opens his legs. His damp face glistens in the candlelight, flushed and gorgeous.

I run my hands up his naked torso and push off his suit jacket. This Wish’s body seems more delicate than the other’s; does he think I want him small?

“Was this for me?” I ask. I get off him to remove my shoes and jeans.

Wish’s gaze slides dreamily over my body. “Hmm?”

“You. Are you for me or were you here before I came?”

Wish’s eyes go empty for a second, but then he smiles. “I was here, but now we’re both here, so what does it matter?”

I crawl back on top of him. “I was just curious.” I kiss his temple. “You want me inside you, right?”

“Yes. I’m all ready for you.”

I reach down between his legs and find him open and slick. Most guys would probably be thrilled, but I don’t want a sex toy. “Maybe I want to get you ready myself.”

Wish gives a little gasp, and suddenly his hole is dry and clamping down on my fingers. I can’t help but laugh but also melt a little. “You want to please me so bad, don’t you?”

“You can hurt me. You can do anything you want.”

I know how to administer all kinds of pain, but I’m not feeling it right now. This Wish feels damaged already, and he let me go so far so quickly. It’s up to me to look out for him. “I don’t want to hurt you right now. I want to take care of you. Is that okay?”

Wish looks at me like no one has ever said that to him. “You really want that?”

I trace his bottom lip. “Mhm.”

“Okay.”

“Manifest me a bottle of lube?”

Above Wish’s head, some twenty odd bottles appear. Universe help us.

I choose a pink one with little strawberries on it. “Relax, Wish. I like the pain, but we already did that part. Now, it’s time to feel good.”

“Okay.”

I pop the cap on the lube and sniff it. Strawberries, for sure. I put some on my tongue and am happy to find it doesn’t taste like cough syrup but more like a strawberry milkshake.

“If you don’t like it—”

I silence Wish with a look. He cowers into the blankets like a cat who doesn’t want to be petted, and all the other bottles of lube disappear.

“What did I tell you to do?” I ask.

“Relax, but—”

“What do you need to be cowed, hmm?” My heart thuds in my ears as anger rises beneath my skin. “What will make you submit to my will instead of trying to take control of this? Do you need more pain before I care for you?”

Wish’s cheeks turn even redder. “I’m not— I’m not trying to take control.”

“Yes, you are. You’re worrying about what I want when I’m perfectly happy right here on top of you, and you already know what I want. I want you to relax and let me get you off.”

“But I want to get you—”

I backhand him. His head turns with the force, a mark blooms on his cheek, and guilt twists in my stomach. I’m probably confusing him with my words and actions out of sync. But then he looks back at me with his expression slack and pupils blown and makes a noise that’s all need.

I scramble to lube up my fingers. When I spear him, his hole is still delightfully tight, and I stretch it open like I would a real lover, or a lover who isn’t special, anyway.

Wish breathes hard through parted lips and keeps his gaze locked on mine. I fuck him with my gaze and my fingers, drinking him in like expensive scotch. As I get lost in pumping my hand and watching his lashes flutter, I feel weightless.

Wish opens his mouth wider and makes a tiny sound in his throat. This draws me out of my trance, and I slather my dick in strawberry lube.

“Lake,” says Wish.

“Don’t make me bitch-slap you again.”

He moans. “Please, more. I like it, I like it.”

I slap his hip instead. “This isn’t about what you like. I’m in control. Turn over.”

“Yes, Sir.” The honorific washes over me like a thousand lovers’ hands. Wish obeys.

Once he’s on his stomach, I yank him onto his knees and grab my dick. “I’m Sir, now?”

He looks at me over his shoulder. “Is it too cheesy? Would you like something else? I could do Master or Daddy or whatever you—”

I give him a hard swat on the ass, and his front half collapses into the mattress. He isn’t the first boy I’ve had turn to goo from a slap.

“Sir is fine,” I say.

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“It’s cute what a smack does to you.” I smile and pet him where I hit him. He rubs his face into the sheets like he’s embarrassed of his reactions, and my hands tingle with the desire to hit him again. “Should I spank you, Wish?”

He gets on all fours again. “Sir…”

“I need a yes or a no. Should I spank you?”

“Please don’t ask. Please just do it.”

That kind of thing goes against my conscience, but for now, it’s a clear yes, so I hit him. Once again, he collapses but keeps his ass up, and I keep hitting, picking up a rhythm that gets me lost. My palm stings, but I keep going, watching Wish’s ass get redder and redder. I know when to stop, and we aren’t there yet.

“Lake!”

Wish’s shout jolts me into halting, and I collapse on top of him, pushing him down into the mattress with my weight. “What?” I’m breathing so hard I can barely talk.

“I—I was going to come.”

I rut against his seared ass. My cock is like a hungry pet with a screeching yowl—impossible to ignore. “Why didn’t you?”

Wish whimpers instead of answering me.

I guide his face backward into a sloppy kiss. I want to ask more questions, make him answer all of them, get into the hidden parts of his head and wreak havoc and make it better and do it all again, but my brain’s given all its blood to my dick, and my balls are aching. I don’t get like this very often, but when I do, it means the games are over. I need to come.

I push myself up and bring Wish onto his knees again. Then I give one of his still-red ass cheeks a squeeze before I ready my cock and push it into him. I grip his hips and slam home in one go—so hard our skin makes a slap when we connect. Wish screams, and his hole clamps down on my cock. He’s coming and still screaming and I’m helpless as his body forces the cum out of me. I bite down into his shoulder and groan into the flesh as my balls empty.

When it’s over, I can’t move. My cock stays lodged inside Wish where we lay on top of each other, both of us breathing hard, my heartbeat pulsing in my fingers, toes, everywhere.

Wish reaches back and gropes until he finds my hand. “Lake, let me make us a collar. Please.”

“Hmm?” I manage. Did he say collar? Images of long-term couples fill my head. A mistress and her pet I met once, then a cross-dressing sub and his surly master, both long past middle age.

“You can be my Sir, and I can be your boy, and it’ll be perfect and for all time because we have eternity now that you’re dead. Please, Sir. Say yes. Let me be your submissive.” Wish’s overzealous words cut through my afterglow and chill me despite how hot I am. I kiss Wish’s shoulder where I bit him and probably shouldn’t have. “Let’s talk about it later, okay? We’re too high right now to make any big decisions.”

Wish goes quiet but grips my hand tighter like I’m going to run if he lets go. I pet down his flank and kiss him behind the ear and try not to take what a sub says when he’s high too seriously.