“Are you going to introduce me?” Keller asks with more than a passing interest.
“He’ll come over when he’s ready. Scotch?”
Keller nods and I pour us both drinks. “Salute.” I raise my glass to his and take a hearty swig. Honeyed with fruit undertones and a hint of smoke, it tastes like an entire banquet in just one sip. I ask him about his work—he’s a pastry chef with his own chain of cake shops—and we catch up on the goings-on of our mutual friends and acquaintances. I’ve been too busy caring for Giovanni to do much socializing.
“The gang misses you,” Keller says. He means Simeon, Anders, and Johann, all Dominants, and more recently Rupert, Johann’s submissive. We tend to travel in a pack.
“I’ll get back into it when the timing is right.”
“There’s a party in a few weeks at Simeon’s. You should bring him.”
I glance over to where Giovanni’s gaze is focused on his sheet music. He’s playing something he knows by heart so he can eavesdrop. The boy is far from stupid. “I don’t know if we’re ready for all that.” I’m not sure how much I want to expose him to the lifestyle just yet, and a party involves several unknown factors that might act as stressors, most of which are out of my control.
“There’s only one way to learn,” Keller says.
“We’re still working on building trust.”
“Are you attached to him?” In my silence he says, “Because my roommate and I are looking for a new houseboy.”
“Not him,” I say with some teeth. Giovanni wouldn’t fit Keller’s brand of kink, specifically bondage, and with his trauma, servicing multiple men would likely be an automatic trigger. But most importantly, “he’s mine already.”
I glance over to find the little green-eyed minx smirking. We chat a little more. I refill our drinks with more liquor and fresh ice. The piano playing stops, and Giovanni makes his way over. He stands at an angle as if prepared to flee at any moment. I make a mental note to work with him on posture and presentation, that is, if we continue down this path.
“This is Giovanni,” I say as a formal introduction.
“Hello, Giovanni, I’m Keller.”
Giovanni says very politely. “Hello, Keller, nice to meet you.” He sinks down to his knees on the plush carpet at my side and I instinctively reach out to pet his hair. His natural color is golden, the most beautiful shade you’ve ever seen, but I insisted he dye it black to help conceal his identity. It’s grown long enough now that it curls a little at the ends, reminding me of how he wore it when he was younger. Giovanni lays his head on my lap while his arm reaches out to circle my calf. He often adopts this posture in my study while we’re both reading, and I’ve seen him do something similar with his grandfather when he was alive. Some aspects of his personality are naturally submissive, and though he is at times bratty, he is not a brat.
“Aren’t you a good boy,” Keller comments, observing the two of us with interest.
“Most of the time,” Giovanni says with a bit of good-natured sass.
“And what does Valentin do when you’re bad?”
Giovanni glances up at me with warmth and affection. “He lets me get away with it.”
So very true.
“He does?” Keller says with mock horror and a wink. “I wouldn’t. When my boys are bad, I tie them up and spank them.”
Giovanni tenses.
“Giovanni doesn’t like to be tied up,” I offer on his behalf.
“But I might like to be spanked,” he says.
“You’ve never been spanked before?” Keller asks, again feigning his astonishment.
“Not yet, sir,” he purrs, playing along.
“I bet you’d love it,” Keller goads.
“Valentin has a whole playroom of toys,” Giovanni says. “Did you know that?”
“Yes, I’ve visited it many times,” Keller says. He wisely omits that it was usually for the purposes of sharing a submissive, his or mine.
“He doesn’t invite me in very often,” Giovanni says with a moue of remorse. “And never to play.” My dungeon is not off-limits to him—not anymore—but there is little reason for us to venture inside. Too much temptation.
