Our food arrives then, and I release him, allowing him space and time to process. His bites are small and careful. His natural grace and good breeding combined with his grandfather’s instruction over the years have resulted in a highly sophisticated young man, something I appreciate in both a sub and sexual partner. I enjoy watching him do the most mundane things. I wait until we’ve both finished to broach the topic again.
“I cannot be the only one you talk to,” I tell him, gently but firmly. “I’m going to put in the effort to discipline and care for you, but you have to put in the work as well.Capito?”
He nods, looking downtrodden but resigned. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.”
I loungeon the chaise in my bedroom and wait for Giovanni to finish his preparations in the bathroom. I’ve arranged the furniture so that it faces a wall of mirrors, allowing me to see myself from nearly every angle, and I can see Giovanni as well. I like to stare at his ass while he sucks me off in the morning. And I like to see his hair tangled in my fist when I ejaculate down his throat.
Giovanni returns and stands in front of me, awaiting my next instruction.
“Take off your clothes,” I say to him. He’s gotten more comfortable with this command, less shy, though still fumbling a little when it comes to buttons and such. My attention is unwavering, appreciating every glimpse of golden skin as it is revealed to me, like the slow unveiling of a work of art. He very tidily hangs his suit and pants in the section of the closet reserved for his things, places the rest of his clothing in the hamper, then comes to stand before me again.
“Turn around,” I say, and he pivots slowly like a dancer, using me as his spotting point. His nervous energy is palpable, his randy cock already at full attention. I can’t wait to cage his ever-ready dick, if only to humble him a little. “Turn away from me, bend over, and grip your ankles.”
He does this too, watching me in the mirrors as I inspect him for any lingering damage. Dr. Greyson came by several weeks ago and examined him, said that he was fully healed, but I like to see for myself that the skin is intact, and it is, pink and hale and terribly inviting. Some of the scarring around his anus is from the time his mother and her boyfriend kidnapped him and held him for ransom. Others are from his most recent assault. I console myself with the fact that at least his mother and the rapist boyfriend are dead, and several more of his abusers are lacking one testicle, a definite scar on their manhoods.
“Very nice.” I smooth one hand over his round ass cheek, then give it a light slap. “Come sit with me on the chaise.” I direct him to the cushioned space between my thighs where I’ve laid down a towel to protect the fabric from potential stains. “Draw up your knees and rest your heels on the edge of the cushion, so I can see you in the mirror.”
Once in position, I pull him back until he’s fully flush against my chest. “Relax now,” I murmur as I stroke up and down his spread legs. Nervousness is good for some aspects of our play, but not this.
“It’s ugly,” he says with a scowl.
“What’s ugly?”
“My butthole.” He glares at his reflection with displeasure.
“It is not ugly. It reminds me of Calacatta marble, threaded with pink and gold. It’s one of the rarest and most prized of all materials because of its uniqueness.”
“You’re flattering me, Sir.”
I smile softly at his keenness. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Do you think my wrinkles are ugly?”
His eyes dart up at me with horror. “No.”
“They represent the things I’ve endured and survived. Your scars aren’t ugly because no part of you is ugly. You are my most beautiful boy.”
He sighs a little, soaking up the praise. He likes to be complimented, in particular for his good looks, and it’s easy for me to do because I am an admirer of beauty in whatever form it takes. I hold out an open tub of lubricant. “Dip your fingers in here and smear it over your handsome hole.”
He scowls at my compliment and says, “Does this mean you want me to touch myself?”
“Yes, but only with my instruction, not to get off. When you start bottoming for me, I may have you insert a plug or prepare yourself ahead of time. You should be comfortable touching yourself here. This hole will bring tremendous pleasure to us both. That’s why we must treasure and care for it. If there’s ever any pain beyond the normal stretch and burn of penetration, which you will come to recognize as we play, then you need to tell me immediately. What’s the rule concerning a boy’s body?”
“A boy’s body is his Dominant’s temple, and the care and maintenance of this temple is a boy’s most sacred responsibility,” he recites. He has revised the phrasing of our rules to reflect his unique way of thinking, and I’ve encouraged him to do so.
“That’s right. I only penetrate you with your consent. We don’t use any drugs or alcohol when we play in scene. You must be comfortable and relaxed, and you must want it.”
“I do want it.”
I kiss his temple. “I want it too. Touch yourself now.”
His two fingers slip and slide along the rim, slowly circling like a cautious animal around a watering hole. “I’m going to want to wax you down here.” I frame his opening with my hands. “I want everything bare, including your genitals. It’s better for when I use toys or if I want to fit you with a cage or a cock ring. How do you feel about that?”
“Will it hurt?”
“At first, yes, but hopefully it’ll get easier each time we do it.”
“Will you do it yourself?”
