Chapter One
Phil ladled crab bisque into two soup bowls, then sprinkled toasted croutons and chives on top of each one. The salad greens with grape tomatoes were coated in his own homemade Italian dressing and had already been placed on the kitchen table, alongside the sparkling water.
No wine tonight.
Phil planned to rock his boy Terry’s world and they both needed to be present and clear-headed. He grabbed the handles of the handmade crockery bowls they’d purchased together on a coastal weekend getaway to Solvang and added them to their place settings. Or rather, the one place setting. He grinned to himself, anxious to see how Terry would react to yet another dynamic being introduced into their D/s relationship.
After he’d verified that everything was ready for their meal, Phil tapped on the door that led from the kitchen into Terry’s photography studio. Terry had converted it from the garage after purchasing the nineteen-thirties, Spanish Revival home three years prior. When I left him. Struggling to forgive himself over his callous behavior still nagged at him, but he’d been moving closer to absolution.
Terry’s unconditional love was the main source of his continued success in self-forgiveness, and Phil remained grateful for every single day Terry was in his life. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, placing his palm against the wooden barrier between him and Terry, splaying his fingers across the surface and remembering how only a month before Terry had almost been torn from him by two serial killers.
The door opened and Phil was snapped out of his reverie. Terry greeted him with a smile, his cheeks flushed, sweat beading at his hairline as if he’d been giving himself a workout. Phil wrinkled his brow as he gathered Terry into his arms.
“You’re all worn out. You could’ve asked me if you needed help, baby. I’ve been right here the whole time.”
Because I lost that damn film. Phil swallowed down his shame as he regarded Terry. We’ve discussed this and agreed on our temporary roles, just like any couple would under similar circumstances. Being an unemployed Master who was working toward a fulltime situation with his boy had left him with a bit of a complex over his inability to take care of Terry’s finances the way he’d promised—despite his boy’s reassurances.
Terry nuzzled his neck as he squeezed him tighter. Phil chuckled. Their journey to a 24/7 lifestyle was still a work in progress, so he would call ‘scene’ before they dropped into their roles. One of the rules he’d imposed was that no touching was allowed without permission. Terry didn’t like the rule, so he took advantage by touching Phil as much as he could when they weren’t on protocol.
“Baby? I asked you a question.”
Terry took one more whiff of Phil’s skin before lifting his gaze. “Huh?” He drew his eyebrows together. “Oh! Sorry. Well, I didn’t want to bother you since I’ve been dying for that amazing crab bisque you’ve been telling me about. Mmm. Smells awesome.”
Phil framed Terry’s face with his hands. “Promise me you’ll ask for help next time if you really need it? Use me while you can.” Phil winked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and guiding him to the table.
“Okay.” Terry offered him a contented smile. “I promise.”
Phil knew the moment Terry spotted the throw pillow on the floor next to his chair, because their forward motion abruptly stopped. He tracked Terry’s gaze as it went from the cushion, to the bowls of soup sharing the same placemat, to the pillow, then up at him.
“Uh, does this mean what I think it means?”
Phil chuckled as he pressed a light kiss to Terry’s temple. “Yes, it does. I told you I’d want to do this with you some day.”
Terry shifted on his feet as though he’d lost the ability to remain still. “Right, so are you going to… you know, how should I…?”
Phil locked eyes with him. “Scene.”
Terry froze, holding Phil’s gaze. He blinked a few times before answering. “Yes, Master.”
Terry used the honorific each time they began in order to drop into the proper headspace. Phil gently extricated himself from Terry’s arms. He gestured to the cushion.
“It’s time to eat, baby. Eventually I’ll want you to serve the meal then call me to dinner. But for your first experience of being fed, I only want your focus to be on how it makes you feel being fed by me.”
Terry inhaled deeply then let out a sigh. “Oh boy.”
He’d muttered the words under his breath, but Phil picked up on them. “Anything you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” Phil quirked an eyebrow as he held in a laugh at Terry’s wide-eyed expression.
“Nope. I’m good.”
Phil held Terry’s gaze. “The soup’s getting cold and lukewarm bisque makes me cranky. Just saying.”
“Got it, Sir. Headed for the pillow now.”
Terry scurried to the cushion. He dropped to his knees, but appeared uncertain. After a moment, he rested on his heels and placed his palms on his thighs. His eyes remained cast down, his back straight and shoulders back—Terry’s display of the position they typically used being perfect, as always. However, it wasn’t the one Phil wanted Terry to employ for the next step in their D/s journey.
Phil took a minute to admire Terry. From their first shared glance across the room at an industry party, Phil had been captured by Terry’s grace. The way his body moved was with a natural elegance that complemented his lean frame. Once they’d drawn nearer, Terry’s bright green eyes were what had held Phil in his thrall, although the rest of his boy—from his dark wavy hair and kissable lips—had also made Phil determined to get closer to the beautiful photographer.
A smile tugged at the corner of Phil’s mouth. Yet he doesn’t see himself that way at all.
Phil closed the short distance between them and let his hand rest on Terry’s head, let the warmth build, the connection essential even more than usual as Phil led Terry into a new realm of shared trust.
“Lovely position. Thank you.” Phil moved behind him, pulling out the oak chair so he could sit on Terry’s right. “For when we take our meals, however, I’d like you to clasp your hands behind your back—at least for now. Once I believe you’ve fully submitted to the act of me feeding you, then you can leave them on your thighs to be more comfortable. Understood?”
Terry nodded, then seemed to catch himself. “Yes, Sir.”
He complied, and when Terry was in place, Phil made a minor adjustment to his posture. He caressed the back of his hand along Terry’s cheek, his boy’s late day stubble scraping across his skin, the sensation giving him a thrill. He preferred that his subs be shaved bare, but there was something about scruff on a man that always did it for him.
“Perfect. Such a good baby.”
Terry straightened his spine even more at the compliment. Phil gave Terry one last appraising glance before considering the food before them. First, he plucked the napkin he’d brought to the table for Terry then placed the cloth along his lap. He noted how Terry’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, sensed his nerves building in anticipation of what they were about to share.
After draping a napkin on his own lap, Phil dipped the spoon into the soup, careful to gather a crouton for his boy’s first taste. Steam still rose from the fragrant bisque, so he blew on it before sampling a little to test the temperature. Perfect. In his peripheral vision he caught Terry adjusting his position as he cleared his throat. Phil smiled to himself, holding his hand cupped under the spoon so as not to spill any liquid. He’s working so hard to please me despite his discomfort at doing this.
Phil brought the soup to Terry’s mouth, and just before reaching his lips, Terry furrowed his brow and shifted his position again.
“Matches.”
Phil stopped, but didn’t take the spoon away. “Talk to me, baby.”
Terry frowned, but met his gaze. “I…I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.” He rolled his eyes. “I mean, I get the part where I’m supposed to eat, but do I keep looking down or assist…by…” Terry huffed. “I’m sorry. This is just so weird.”
Phil ate the bisque he’d scooped up for Terry before setting the utensil down. “You don’t have to do anything because this is the act of me taking care of my sub. It’s also another level of submission for you. As we move closer to becoming 24/7, I’ll be adding more aspects of what I’d like our dynamic to be on a daily basis. We haven’t finalized our contract yet, so what we’re doing now can be part of what we discuss. But can you try, for me? This will be private, only for us at home or if we’re with friends like Gerard and Marco. You’ve let me give you something to drink there, and you never safeworded.” An unsettling thought struck him. “Had you ever considered doing that, but didn’t because it would be in front of them? In which case, we need to have a conversation about that too. We can’t play with them anymore if I’m not confident you’re willing to safeword.”
Terry’s eyes widened. “Never considered it, I promise. I don’t know why that seemed different than this. I’m not saying you giving me something to drink didn’t seem a bit awkward initially, but it never occurred to me to use my safewords.”
Phil exhaled with no small measure of relief. His protectiveness over Terry had reached astounding levels. When the truth of his own nature was uncovered, the need to keep Terry safe had continued to grow. However, he hadn’t anticipated the overpowering strength of that need.
“Which is great to hear, thank you. I think you know how important it is to me that you use them when needed.”
“I do. I want us to get it right this time.”
Phil’s stomach clenched. He reached down, rubbing his thumb along Terry’s jaw. “I know, baby. That’s the only thing I want. So, contemplate this before we continue, then you decide what you want to do. Remember how you confessed to me that you always loved it when we were first dating and I would order for you? Then if we were sharing, how I’d divide the portions, make sure you had enough of everything?”
A light flush bloomed under Terry’s cheeks and he averted his eyes. He paused before letting out a sigh and lifting his gaze again. “Okay, I get it. Carry on. I mean, flame.”
Phil couldn’t help but grin. “Thank you. I’m so proud of you.” Phil straightened. “Back in position.”
Terry rolled his shoulders, wiggling a bit before settling again. Phil repeated the process of getting a spoonful of soup ready for Terry. He brought the bisque to Terry’s mouth the way he had before, taking note at how his breathing sped up, his desire to submit so clear—even as his nervousness remained.
“Open up, baby.”
Terry parted his lips while closing his eyes. Phil wondered whether his reaction was from embarrassment or to help himself surrender completely. Good discussion for after dinner. A bit of the soup clung to one corner of Terry’s mouth and his tongue darted out, licking away the errant liquid. Phil held in a groan at the sight, memories flashing through his mind of the night before when Terry had been on his knees, eyes locked on his, teasing the head of his cock with that wicked tongue before taking him deep.
Phil sucked in a sharp breath. “Remember, allow me to do all the work. If food spills or needs to be wiped off your…” He let out a small cough. “mouth, let me be the one to handle it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
His voice had trembled, the meaning behind Terry’s response unclear to Phil. He continued to feed his boy and was delighted at the way Terry allowed himself to gradually fall into deep submission. Gone was the resistance to accepting a mouthful of soup, a bite of bread or a forkful of salad. He never anticipated Phil’s next move or tried to help him accomplish the task of eating. He’d embraced Phil’s complete care.
Phil set the spoon in Terry’s empty bowl. “How are you doing? Was that enough, or would you like some more soup? I also have an apple crisp with fresh cream if you’d rather go straight to that.”
Terry pressed his lips in a tight line, giving his head a quick shake. Phil wrinkled his brow and wondered why Terry hadn’t answered him verbally since that was one of the established rules. He leaned down to ask him when he noticed a tear trailing down Terry’s cheek. Phil placed a hand on Terry’s upper back.
“I need you to talk to me, baby. What’s going on?”
Terry gave a loud sniff. “I… Are we taking a walk after we eat?”
“Yes, we are.” Phil kept his voice soft. He didn’t want to break whatever zone Terry had drifted into.
“Can we talk then? I don’t want to stop this right now.”
Phil kissed Terry’s temple while rubbing his back in slow circles. “Of course. I’m up for some dessert now, if you are.”
Terry let out a stuttering sigh then sniffed again. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
Phil squeezed his shoulder before rising, then grabbed the two empty bowls to take to the sink. While he prepared the crisp, he couldn’t help but steal glances at Terry. He might be ready for a 24/7 dynamic sooner than I’d thought. But before he went that far, he wanted to explore some other aspects of their relationship. Terry’s desire for rough play and his arousal from the spankings had given Phil a few tantalizing ideas. He smiled to himself. It was time to introduce a new level of pain to their play.