It doesn’t take me long to work him up to three fingers and I’m vigorously finger-banging him. I add more lube, withdraw my fingers, then ease him down onto the shower chair and wash my hands. Pre-cum’s dripping from him, and I rinse him off.
He stares up at me, eyes glazed, and I know the boy’s in subspace.
Terrific.
No, not sarcasm. I mean great that I can get him to that point with sex. Yay, me. Makes my job easier.
Aloteasier.
I give his cock one more gentle pump before I make sure he’s rinsed off down there. I really don’t want to taste soap when I go down on him.
I have him wash me, then I shampoo his hair and mine. I’ll be changing his body wash and shampoo to my preferred brands. I want him smelling like me, yet another way to anchor him to me.
An added bonus is that if Leo doesn’t walk away, every time he’s with Elliot he’ll be thinking ofme.
Maybe I do have a sadistic streak in me.
Once we’re both rinsed off, I shut off the shower and grab towels, drying him first, then me.
One more thing. “Do we need to put anything on your stump tonight? Skin cream, or do you need a shrinker or anything?” I’m not an expert on his routine, but I remember a few of the things I learned from before.
He’s still in the zone, because it takes him a moment to respond. Then he looks at his leg and checks it. “No, Sir. It’s all right.”
Even though he really doesn’t need it, I keep an arm around him as he stands with the assistance of his walker. I grab another clean towel from the linen cabinet in the bathroom and bring it out with me. He’s got a nightlight in his bathroom, so I turn off the light. Then I help Elliot into the bedroom and sit him on the edge of the bed.
“Standing order—you use your walker, or crutches, if you don’t have Duck on when you’re here or in a hotel room. Especially if I’m not with you for some reason. Got it? You have a completely preventable fall, you’ll wish you’d obeyed me when you’re healed up enough for me to beat your ass. Leo wasn’t strict enough with you on that and you and I both know you’ve had some close fricking calls over the years.”
A playful little smirk quirks his lips. “Yes, Sir.”
No, this isn’t ableism—it’s emotional bonding. I know he’s managed by himself all this time. That’s the whole freakingpointof me giving him orders like this. Let’s face it, there won’t be a lot of orders Icangive him that won’t eventually get overridden on an emergency basis, thanks to his job.
If he’s elected.
Anything that helps strengthen the bond between us, I’m going to do it.
Which brings me to another point. I stand in front of him and hold his hands. “Look at me, boy.”
He does.
“Youreallywant to be President?”
He hesitates for only the briefest of moments. “Yes, Sir.”
“You can always not run.”
“I know, Sir.”
I gently squeeze his hands. “Another order. If at any time you change your mind—even if it’s the day before the general election—you are to tell me. Understand?”
After a moment, he nods. “Yes, Sir.”
I squeeze his hands again. Inside, I’m channeling Mimi. Her protective, fierce spirit, her irrepressible love.
Her ferocious streak. “You wanted a Sir—you’ve got yourself one. There’s a side of me you’ve never met before because you haven’t been around me that much. You know me as Leo’s boy and Jordan from Chris’ office. Maybe this is my first gig as a Sir, but I guarantee you, I can keep you in line and take care of you. The fact that Leo wanted me to do this very thing in the first place should tell you that.”
This time when he nods, he looks more certain. “Yes, Sir. I promise if I change my mind that I’ll tell you.”
Another hand squeeze, and this time, he squeezes back. “If I ever give you a command that being VPOTUS or POTUS conflicts with,duh, obviously that’s an exception.” I smile. “Still might punish you, though.”
