Jay Lygon - (Chaos Magic 03) - Personal Demons

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Personal Demons
TOP SHELF
An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers
PO Box 2545
Round Rock, TX 78680
Copyright 2009 by Jay Lygon
Cover illustration by Rose Lenoir
Published with permission
ISBN: 978-1-60370-664-3, 1-60370-664-X
www.torquerepress.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press.
Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680.
First Torquere Press Printing: March 2009
Printed in the USA
Chapter 1
September was when the honeymoon ended. There were warning signs before then, of course, but as
usual, I didnt see them. Hector always said I floated along in a little bubble in my own fantasy world,
willfully oblivious to what was going on around me. Maybe I did. In September, though, that bubble
burst.
Sure, Hector and I had some rough patches before that. He could be a bit possessive, but he was
working on it. At least he promised me he was, and that was good enough for me. Deep down, he had to
know that I never wanted to be the God of Sex. It just happened. People were drawn to my power and
before I could stop them, they were touching me or trying to lead me off to a secluded corner. That
drove Hector insane. I dont know. Maybe I could have tried harder to discourage them. My therapist
kept saying I had a right to talk to anyone I wanted to, but the thing was that I didnt want that kind of
attention. If I could have wished my power away, I would have.
After Beltane, though, most of our troubles seemed past us. My new job as a film critic for Park Avenue
Magazine was going well. Their checks came on time and didnt bounce. That was pretty much my
definition of a good writing gig. Hector had been the top salesman of oil drilling equipment for three years
in a row and would probably do it again. Our friends were reasonably happy, except Brett, but his
unhappiness was self-generated, so it was nothing new. My psycho-ex, Master Marcus, the God of
Fear, seemed to have disappeared. My family finally met, and adored, Hector. Hector seemed satisfied
that Id finally grown up a bit. I was getting help for my depression. The mistakes Id made had been
forgiven. All the misunderstandings were cleared up. More importantly, I was back home with Hector.
Life couldnt have been any better for us.
Except
Well
Looking back, maybe July was when the fireworks began.
Thanks to a curse from the Goddess of Eternal Youth, Id suddenly outgrown all my clothes. Hector
couldnt have been happier. It was an excuse to drag me out shopping. Gods knew I had enough quirks
to keep my therapist busy scribbling notes, but Hector put up with my faults, so I should have humored
his. Within a month I think I owned everything Dolce and Gabbana sold off the rack. Dont even get me
started on my shoe collection. A closet and a half full of the best of everything seemed like more than
enough, though, so when Hector decided I needed a new tuxedo, I got stubborn.
Granted, because of my job as a film critic, and because we went to a lot of charity galas for the GLBT
community, I wore my tux at least twice a month. He seemed to think I needed more than one so that it
didnt look like I was always wearing the same thing. No one notices, I grumbled as we walked down
Rodeo Drive. Id been glowering ever since he told me to dress up for our shopping trip.
Hector ignored me as he checked out an incredibly ugly silver platter in a shop window. I shoved my
hands in my pockets and stared at the yellow Ferrari parked at the curb.
An older man wearing a leather sport jacket walked over to me. Its hot, isnt it? He nodded to the
car.
Um. I cast a glance over my shoulder at Hector. Hed moved over to the other window to look at a
huge, porcelain elephant. Rich people sure bought weird stuff to put in their houses.
The man followed me across the sidewalk when I backed away from him. Have you ever ridden in
one?
Heat rushed up the back of my neck.
Would you like to? The stranger dangled keys in my face.
The hairs on my arms rose. Hector spun around. No, he wouldnt. He took my hand and led me down
the street.
My therapist always pursed his lips when I admitted how much it turned me on when Hector got
territorial. It sent a thrill down my spine when he got all big, bad-ass leather-daddy and made it clear I
was his property. My therapist also made faces when I called myself property, but his sexual hang-ups
werent my problem. The thick metal collar on my neck and the brand on my ass marked me as
Hectors, and I was proud to wear both.
Hectors sexy, rolling stride reminded me of a cop sauntering up to a car hed pulled over for speeding.
His hand sat lightly on the nape of my neck as he steered me down the sidewalk. When we got to the
Armani boutique, he opened the door for me and followed me in.
How pathetic was it that I knew to go up the marble stairs to the mens department without being told?
As soon as we set foot in the swanky salon, a short, slim sales clerk hustled over. His skin was so shiny
around his eyes that I suspected a recent chemical peel. While his gaze lingered over me, he spoke to
Hector. Its a pleasure to see you again, gentlemen. What can I show you today? We just received the
summer line.
Hector put his hand on my shoulder so that I wouldnt wander off. Sam needs another tuxedo. Hes
going to the Venice Film Festival and the one in Toronto this summer.
Many of our clients do. The clerk tapped his bottom lip as if this request presented a perplexing
problem. He went over to a wall rack of black jackets and flipped through them. I believe that he
currently has this one, correct? With this shirt? And the onyx studs?
Okay, so that was a little impressive.
How many parties do you think hell attend in Venice? Its very warm there in September, the clerk
said.
None, I said. Everyone ignored me.
I think this summer-weight wool would be best. Two suits and several shirts should be enough for the
week, unless he goes out to a formal event every night. He piled clothes into the waiting arms of a
second clerk. Thats a start. Would Sir like to go into the dressing room? Our tailor will be along to
mark up the hem. Did you bring the shoes?
I held up a pair of boots. The clerk winced. Funny, I did the same thing when I saw the seven hundred
dollar price tag on them. Hector hadnt batted an eye, of course.
Sam hates the shiny shoes, and in this case, I have to agree with him.
The clerk tapped his lip again. Then he brightened. I have just the thing. He scurried away.
Hector sank into a black leather club chair outside the dressing room. Go try on the tux, Sam.
I put your things in the last room, Sir, the second clerk told me. He turned to Hector. Would you care
for water or an espresso while you wait?
Why was it that he got the refreshments when I was the one suffering? Probably because he was the one
who paid. I stomped off to the dressing room. A black suit was a black suit. Why did it matter if I wore
the same one each time? It was clean.
I dumped my clothes in a pile in the middle of the floor and pulled on the pants. At least the new pair
didnt have that stupid stripe down the leg. The shirt looked crisp, but it had a soft, almost velvety texture
that felt good against my skin. I drew on the jacket. It was a little tight across my shoulders, and the
sleeves hung down too far, but it fit nice everywhere else. I pulled on my boots and went out to face the
critics.
The clerk rushed forward, beaming. He fussed with the jacket while he talked to Hector. Only a man
with his build can wear a double-breasted suit.
Resigned to my fate, I went to the dais in front of the three-way mirror. Everywhere my gaze went, there
I was. Ugh. The Filipino tailor knelt at my feet. His hand slid up the inside of my thigh with the measuring
tape. From the way his hand trembled, I was sure he remembered Hector growling at him the last time
we were there.
Still glowering, I told Hector, All I need is a different tie to wear with my old tux, and voila new outfit.
Youre getting this tuxedo, Sam. Hector took a coffee cup from the second clerk. Lets see that gray
linen suit on him, too. He needs something nice to wear during the day.
Very good, Sir. With the plum shirt? Or the lime one? the head clerk asked. No doubt visions of
dollar signs were dancing in his head.
Lime is too trendy. That yellow is nice, though.
The second clerk rushed off to grab more clothes. They laid them on a table near Hector and tucked
one after another under the lapel. The stripe or the solid?
Hector pointed. That one. It makes the color of his eyes stand out. He set his coffee aside.
My mouth set into a hard line as they headed for the dressing room with the shirts.
On second thought, have him try on all of them. Hector settled back in the club chair with an evil grin
on his face. He casually crossed his legs while I fumed.
I tried on the damn gray suit. I even modeled two of the shirts, but the next time I came out of the
dressing room, I was in my street clothes. Im done, I said.
Youre not done, Boy, until I say you are.
The clerk and the tailor exchanged a glance. Backing away, they muttered excuses to leave us alone.
Hectors brand on my butt cheek seared. I swore I could feel the exact outline of the capital H. That
was more warning than I usually got, so I should have backed down. No, I should have crawled across
the floor to his feet and begged forgiveness. Instead, my lips twitched a little into a sneer and then my chin
lifted. The next thing I knew, Hector was out of that chair with his hand on my upper arm.
Sam and I are going to have a little chat, he told the clerk through gritted teeth. Ill be out to pay for
all that in a moment.
They rushed to collect the clothes Id tried on. Hector dragged me back into a dressing room and
slammed the door shut. He sat on the cushioned bench and yanked me over his lap. Bare that ass,
Boy.
My cock was already getting hard. I hoped hed use his leather belt. I shoved my jeans down to my
knees and settled across his thighs.
You like being spanked too much, you brat. This time, Papi is going to teach you a lesson you wont
forget. He forced my ass cheeks apart. I felt a rush of God power as he summoned something. Lubed
fingers shoved into my hole. You act like a spoiled little boy, so Im going to treat you like one.
What did he have? A butt plug? I hated them, but having to wear one wasnt much of a punishment. I
tried to glance over my shoulder to see what he was doing, but he pushed my head down.
Something hard and cold pushed into my hole. It felt sort of like a thin dildo. But then, oh Gods, I felt
pressure in my bowels. I squirmed. What is that?
You seem to have something up your ass, Sam, and Papi is going to help you get it out.
The pressure kept growing. So did my panic. What do you mean? What are you doing to me?
Giving you an enema.
I yelped. Here? Now? I squirmed, but he forced me to stay in place.
I cant think of a better time.
Oh man. My face went red as I wondered if there were security cameras in the dressing room. I
imagined the clerk and tailor staring wide-eyed at a monitor as they watched Hector squeeze the enema
into my ass.
Hector leaned closer to my ear. Now, Im going to slowly pull the nozzle out of your bottom. Unless
you want to have an accident, you better hold onto every drop of it. Do you understand me, Boy?
I gulped and nodded.
He slapped my ass. I asked you a question.
Yes, Sir. As he withdrew the bottle, my muscles clamped down. Mortified beyond words at what was
going on inside me, I bit down on my trembling bottom lip.
Stand up. Put your hands behind your neck.
Getting onto my feet sent the pressure inside me to a new, uncomfortable place. Fighting gravity and the
urgency in my bowels, I stood in the center of the dressing room and clasped my hands behind my neck.
I need to use the bathroom, Sir.
Hector shook his head sadly. I almost believed that he felt sorry for me. Youre going to hold that in
until youve learned your lesson.
My face went scarlet. I was sweating and shaking as I held the enema in as tight as I could. My head
bowed.
He was right. It was a lesson Id never forget. I was so humiliated that I prayed some God would show
me mercy and strike me dead. I would have settled for the ground opening up and swallowing me.
Anything would be better than having to say what he wanted me to. My desperate prayers went
unanswered. I really have to go, Hector, I finally blurted out.
Ill bet you do.
Hector made me stand there for an eternity. Maybe it was only five minutes, long enough to die a
thousand small deaths from humiliation.
Hector put his hand on my shoulder. Do we have an understanding? Are you going to obey me?
My throat was raw. Ill never talk back again, Sir. I swear it.
From the way Hector smiled, I dont think he believed me, but he finally nodded. Pull up your pants.
You can use the bathroom when we get home.
But, Sir!
All it took was the raise of an eyebrow and my mouth snapped shut. A new wave of heat rushed through
my face as my stomach cramped.
Hector watched me go through the agonizing act of reaching down for the waistband of my jeans and oh
so carefully rising with a weary expression. My ass cheeks were losing the fight to stay clenched tight.
Im going to go pay for your new clothes. You can take a moment to compose yourself if you need it,
but I expect you to come out fully dressed before they finish ringing up the sale.
Tears streamed down my face. I glanced at the door. A wave of nausea swept over me. Please, Papi,
please. Dont make me face them. I cant bear it. They know, I whispered. Trembling, I pleaded.
Please. Im begging you. Dont humiliate me. I cant take it. Ill do anything. Make me sleep on the
punishment cot for a week. Take away all my privileges. Dont let me come for a month. Anything.
Hector frowned as he caressed my cheek. He drew me into his arms. Hush, Sam. Its all right. I wont
make you face the clerks if its too much for you. I wont push you more than you can take. Okay? He
pulled back and looked into my eyes with such concern and love that my heart melted. Do you want to
phase out of here and wait for me in the truck?
Sniffling, I nodded.
He smiled at me, that really nice smile where his eyes crinkled up at the corners. Its all right, Baby. Go
wait in the car. Papi will be there soon.
Thank you. Thank you. I kissed his hands. Thank you.
***
Being Gods, we didnt have to drive from Beverly Hills to Long Beach. Oh sure, if Hector had been
feeling particularly sadistic, he could have made me hold that enema while he took the freeway, but I
think he knew what a mess I was. When he came to the truck, I had my hands over my face as I writhed.
So as soon as we pulled out of the parking lot in Beverly Hills, we phased to our driveway in Long
Beach.
You can run along to the bathroom, Sam. Ill get the bags.
Thank you, Sir. I dont think Id ever been that grateful for anything in my life. I didnt even bother to
unlock the front door. I phased right into the bathroom and yanked my pants down.
Fifteen minutes later, I staggered out of the bathroom one very contrite boy. Hector was sitting on the
couch in the living room. He peered over his reading glasses at me. I crawled across the floor and rested
my cheek on the toe of his shoe.
Im sorry I misbehaved today, Sir.
He cupped my chin in his hand and pulled up until I was kneeling. I think Ive finally found a punishment
that will work on you. Next time you start to get your testosterone up, just remember that no matter
where we are, Papi will pull down your pants and give you an enema. I dont care who knows that
youre being punished. I saved you from facing the clerks today, but in the future, I may not be as
lenient.
I nodded.
He patted the couch. Come up here. Somethings got you worked up. Tell me.
I huddled in the corner of the couch and hugged the throw pillow. G-G-G-olden Globes.
That telecast isnt until January, Sam. Months away. Youre going to be a mess by December if you
dont stop working yourself up like this. And youre stuttering again.
There was a little piece of white fluff sticking out of the seam on the pillow. I pulled at it. More fluff came
out. Hector snatched the pillow away from me.
My therapist says its a psycho-something stutter at this point, since I dont stutter over anything else. I
told him to watch the telecast if he thought that was the only word I had trouble with. Its going to be a
disaster.
Only if you convince yourself that it will be.
I nodded. He said that, too.
Say Oscars.
Oscars. But Im not worried about that telecast, I said. I glanced around the living room. My legs
jittered until Hector put his hand on my thigh and gave me a stern poppa look.
Why arent you worried about the Oscars? he asked.
Because Im going to fail so spectacularly at the G-G-G-olden Globes that the magazine will tell me I
dont have to work their red carpet show for the Oscars.
You have it all figured out, dont you, Sam? You know, theres a word for boys like you. Manipulative.
Youre going to sabotage yourself so that you can weasel out of your promise to do those shows. You
signed a contract with them, Boy. You gave them your word.
My mouth dropped open. Im not doing it on purpose, Sir! I swear. I dont want to humiliate myself in
front of millions of viewers.
Is that a promise, Boy? Your word on it?
Why did I feel as if hed trapped me? My word on it, I grumbled.
Hectors eyes crinkled as he smiled. Good. Now, about shopping. You have two nice tuxedos now,
but since youre already looking forward to the Golden Globes, I can, too, and I think we need to get
you something special to wear that night.
He was in super-shopper mode. Thered be no stopping him. My shoulders slumped.
Hector leaned across the couch so that his face was inches from mine. I leaned closer to him, willing him
to pin me down and kiss me like hed fuck me -- rough and demanding.
Do you know what Id really like? His voice dropped into a deep bass rumble that went right to my
groin.
Hope and lust was a heady combination. What?
A slow, evil grin spread over his face, as if he knew how hard I was.
He sat back suddenly and waved his hands. No. Youd just act up, and Ive had enough of disciplining
you today.
My mind was already deep in thoughts of sex, and like a sleeper pulled out of a great dream, I wasnt
too happy about it. Ill be good, Papi.
Hector cocked his head to the side. His finger slowly traced my collar, then across the hollow of my
throat, where the heat of his hand made my pulse jump. Would you do what I asked, no matter what it
was?
That hypnotic touch had me under a spell. Whenever he talked to me like that, I knew he was going to
hustle me into something. Maybe Id regret giving in later, but I wasnt thinking with the brain above my
waist. Anything.
I want. His hand slid to the back of my head. You. He leaned toward me. To. His fingers grasped
my hair. Wear. Our mouths were only a breath apart. A kilt.
Bastard! That sneaky, double-crossing, rat bastard! I jerked away from him. No.
No? You gave your word, Sam.
I wont do it. Damn cock tease.
Hector crawled across the couch until he was over me, his fists sinking into the cushion above my
shoulders. Somehow, Id slipped down onto my back and was trapped between his big thighs and arms.
One very angry poppa bear glared down at me. Then the flare of temper in his eyes cooled to complete
control. Do you know what I do to boys who break their promises? he asked.
I lowered my gaze and walked my fingers up his chest. Papi
Hector grabbed my hand. Go to the bedroom, get undressed, and lie down on your tummy. He
chuckled when my eyes lit up. Oh, little boy, when will you learn that I dont fall for any of your
seductive tricks?
***
When Hector came into the bedroom, I looked over my shoulder, hoping for some clue about what he
planned to do to me, but he only had a towel in his hands. He cleared off the nightstand next to my side
of the bed and covered it with the towel. Then he left the room. I heard water running for a long time.
When he came back, he walked slowly and carried a big bowl. Carefully, he set down the bowl on top
of the towel.
Since he hadnt told me to be still, I peered over at the bowl. It was full of water. Intriguing, but for
what?
The next trip back to the room was even more confusing. Hector rolled up the sleeves of his shirt,
unwrapped a small bar of white soap, and then washed his hands in the bowl until the water was milky
with soap lather. He measured in a little Epsom salts and stirred that in, too. Seemingly satisfied, he dried
his hands on a folded towel. When he saw my puzzled expression, he grinned, but didnt say anything. It
wasnt like any punishment that had ever come before. Whatever it was, my cock was ready.
Hector hummed a little tune as he went back into his toy closet. He stood on his tiptoes and brought
down boxes from the high shelves. Damn it. Id meant to snoop through those some day, but every time I
sneaked into his closet to look at all the fun things he had, I got distracted by the paddles and floggers.
He finally found what he was looking for in one of the boxes. All I saw was a flash of metal before he
whisked it out of the bedroom.
I was thoroughly confused when Hector set a kitchen timer on the nightstand. That didnt look like the
metal thing that had been in his hand earlier. He eased down onto the mattress next to me.
I would have thought that once today was enough for you, but obviously you didnt learn your lesson.
He pulled a latex glove onto one hand. I swear the snap made me drool. He glopped lube on his gloved
finger. This wont hurt. Im just going to slide one finger into your bottom.
Damn it. Only one finger?
Hector spread my ass cheeks with one hand. The shock of cold lube made my ass tighten as his finger
pressed against it. That didnt stop him from sliding his finger in. If you fight it, its just going to make
things more difficult on you, so I suggest you accept the punishment you earned.
His long, thick finger stroked my prostate. That was punishment?
He opened the drawer of my nightstand and took out the thermometer. He shook it down. My face
heated up a little as he gave me a knowing look. The slim, cool glass slid into my hole. I drew my arms
close to my chest and hid my face in my pillow. That always helped put me in the right frame of mind for
a scene. One minute, raving slut, next moment, Daddys boy. While I liked it, I was kind of ashamed that
I did. Hector used that to his advantage, of course.
Hector put on his reading glasses to read the thermometer as he held it up to the lamp. I knew I wasnt
sick, so I had no idea why I held my breath waiting for his pronouncement. He lowered his chin and
looked at me over the top of his glasses. If you dont behave, this is going to be a very difficult afternoon
for you.
He pushed back the edge of the folded towel on my nightstand. I finally saw what hed taken out of the
closet.
My voice quavered a little. Papi? I had no idea what it was. It was a large metal tube about eight
inches long, with a long tip on one end and a plunger on the other. Whatever it was, it looked wicked,
like something from a sadistic doctors office.
Hector put the tip in the bowl and slowly pulled back on the plunger. When it was all the way up, he
turned to me with the syringe. I gulped. He leaned over the bed, firmly parted my clenched ass cheeks,
and inserted the tip of the syringe into my ass.
Not another enema, I wailed.
I warned you.
Things got uncomfortable really fast. Hector laughed when I covered my face and groaned.
Thats the entire syringe. Youre going to hold that in until I say you can go. He eased the tip out of
me.
Five minutes later, I was squirming. Instead of spanking me though, he did something worse.
Im disappointed in you, Baby. I thought wed agreed that you were going to stop being selfish. Being a
real slave means that you serve me. I thought you understood that. Instead of trying to give me what I
need, its still all about your fantasies.
That stung. He was right, of course. Id fallen back into my bad habits.
If obeying me doesnt make you happy, then we have a real problem.
It does!
You fight me every step of the way. Is asking you to wear a kilt that big of a demand? I dont think so.
And yet you refuse without even considering what I might want. Sometimes I dont think you understand
what it means to wear my collar. You still only obey whenever it pleases you to, Sam. If you accept the
collar, you accept my control over you at all times, even when it doesnt please you.
My hand went to the metal collar around my neck. He wouldnt take it back, would he?
I respected your no when you asked me not to humiliate you in the store. I know thats a hard limit for
you. All I ask in return is that you show me the same respect.
His sad, quiet tone ripped me to shreds. Everything he said was true. I was a selfish brat, and hed been
more than patient with me.
Im sorry, Sir.
I know you are, Baby. At least, you are right now. Im going to help you learn, okay? Well work on
this together. Hectors hand rubbed soothing circles over my back, but that didnt help. Not much
longer to go. I know you can hold that enema a little longer.
Oh man. Those last couple minutes were hard.
When the timer finally went off, Hector stood up. Do you need help getting off the bed? Do you want
me to help you to the bathroom?
It was embarrassing enough that he knew how bad I had to go, but to be in the bathroom with me? No
way. I shook my head hard as I carefully got off the bed.
Hector gave my hard-on a little squeeze. Okay. Take your time. When you feel youre done, come
back here.
I quickly shuffled off to the bathroom with my butt cheeks clenched tight.
***
On the bed, on your tummy, Hector ordered when I came back to the bedroom.
But Papi!
He sighed. You really wont learn, will you? He filled the syringe again. Were going to keep doing
this until I get through that thick skull of yours.
Scowling, I flopped down on the bed. Hector frowned as he filled the syringe. It was a battle of wills.
As the timer ticked down, my temper flared. Id had enough. Okay! Ill wear the damn kilt!
I tried to get up, but Hector put a firm hand on the small of my back. I didnt say you could get up.
Im going to anyway, I snapped.
No.
Let me up.
Hector got off the bed and stared down at me. It drove me nuts that he didnt say anything. Infuriated, I
said, Im sick of this. This is stupid.
Hectors eyebrows rose. Sure, I knew that meant I was in trouble, but the last little hold I had on my
temper snapped, and boy, did I tell him a thing or two. I was still cursing him out when the timer went off.
Get up, he said.
I started to shuffle for the bathroom when he grasped my arm. This time, Im taking you.
Hector pulled me along a lot faster than I wanted to walk. When we got into the bathroom, he shoved
me down over the sink. I guess we need a little soap in this end too. Open your mouth, Boy.
I wriggled and sputtered as Hector thoroughly washed my mouth out with soap. Being so close to the
toilet with my bowels so full was hell. I had to go. Hector didnt seem to care. He pulled me up by my
hair as I spat soap film from my mouth.
Now, go fetch the wooden spoon. He shoved me toward the door.
Oh man. Oh no. When would I learn to keep my mouth shut?
Sir, please--.
Now!
I was probably a comical sight as I shuffled from the bathroom to the kitchen and back again. Tears
staggered down my cheeks. All I could think about was getting to the toilet. I couldnt hold on much
longer.
When I got back to the bathroom, Hector took the wooden spoon from my hand. He saw me glance at
the toilet.
Need to go, little boy?
Yes, Sir.
He grinned. Ill bet you do. He lowered the lid and sat down. Before you can sit here, youre going to
be punished for that outburst. He patted his thighs. Over Papis lap. Now.
Please!
Hector made a little sound of fake sympathy. You can beg better than that. Come on. The sooner you
get into position, the sooner it will be over.
Since I had no choice, I carefully lowered myself over Hectors thighs.
Instead of taking the wooden spoon to me, Hector squeezed my ass cheeks. That wasnt fair. I groaned.
Were going to cleanse all the bad things out of your system, Baby. I know this is hard, but I know
whats best for you. Now, tell me why Im spanking you.
Because I sassed you.
The wooden spoon slapped against my bared ass. Thats why your Papi washed your mouth out with
soap. Think harder. The wooden spoon smacked my other cheek.
What did he want me to say? I had no idea, so I tried everything. That only earned me harder smacks
from the wooden spoon. Soon my ass felt as if was on fire.
Please, Papi, please! I have to go. I cant hold it any longer.
Then apologize for your temper tantrum.
Temper tantrum? Sure, I got angry, but a tantrum? The wooden spoon smacked me so hard I couldnt
breathe for a second. Tears spilled down my face.
Are you going to have an accident?
My face went ten shades of red. He knew what the enema was doing to me. He knew I was about to
lose control. I didnt even want to think about what would happen if I didnt get on the toilet soon. My
butt cheeks and thighs stung from the constant slap of the wooden spoon. It was humbling and mortifying
to be under his control like that. I sobbed.
Hector took the spoon to my ass without mercy. I screamed until I couldnt anymore.
I asked if youre going to have an accident, Boy.
I nodded hard.
Do you need to use the potty?
Oh Gods, was it possible to die from humiliation?
Say it. Hector was so terse that a new flood of tears cascaded from my eyes. You know what you
have to say.
I need to use the potty.
Ask nicely.
Gritting my teeth, I swallowed my pride. Please let me use the potty, Papi. I have to go so bad.
Hector made me turn me head to look at him. His brown eyes were full of compassion, but he was still
strict. You can stand up now. My shoulders shook as new sobs quaked through my body. When
youre ready for you next enema, I want you to lie down quietly on the bed and show me that you know
how to obey. I promise that when were done, youll feel much better. Okay?
Sniffling, I nodded. Hector kissed my forehead and went out the door, graciously leaving me a little
shred of my dignity.
***
By the time I staggered out of the bathroom following the third enema, it was late. Hector sat on his side
of the bed, propped up against the headboard. He spread his arms. I rushed to cuddle with him.
He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head.
His hands slid over my ass. I flinched as he squeezed my aching butt cheeks. I wish you hadnt acted
up, little boy. I didnt want to have to punish you, but you know I cant let you get away with that.
Why did I fight against him? I never understood it myself. There wasnt a single battle of our wills that
Id ever won, thank the Gods. Everything was so much easier when I submitted.
Feeling better now? I liked how he talked to me in a gentle but firm tone while he stroked my skin.
Exhausted but calm. I supposed that was better.
Im going to get you a glass of juice.
He tried to get off the bed, but I clung tight. Papi, are you going to give me another enema?
Hector stroked my back. Do you want one?
What in the world did he mean?
He laughed and gave me a quick kiss before he got out of bed. Ill tell you what. Think it over. If you
want to try one last time, then be on your tummy when I get back. If youre sitting up, well just cuddle
until bedtime.
Try what?
To get to your subspace. I think you need to spend a little time there to let go of this anxiety over the
telecast.
Left alone, I thought it over. Did I want him to do that to me again? Not really. I was worn out. On the
other hand, he was right about my anxiety. I rolled over onto my stomach, then chickened out and sat up.
Hectors footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Making a quick decision, I lay down again, reached back, and spread my butt cheeks for him.
***
I know this will be uncomfortable, but I want you to lift up on your knees a little. Can you do that for
your Papi?
Oh man. All that warm, soapy water inside me shifted as I carefully lifted my butt up and spread my
knees. Cramps took my breath away.
Breath through it, Hector said. I know this is difficult for you, but youre doing so well. His hand slid
over my balls and lightly gripped my cock. My hard-on had been waxing and waning through the past
hour, but he sounded pleasantly surprised when he felt how hard I was. Such a good boy.
Hector unzipped his pants and hefted his cock out. He stroked it a few times and then pushed the head
between my lips. I strained to take more of the fat cock into my mouth, but Hector pressed his palm
against my forehead until I backed off. Just suck on the tip, Baby, like youre sucking your thumb.
Thats it. Thats a good Boy.
I concentrated on the taste of him in my mouth and the tantalizing promise of his scent buried deeper in
his pants.
Hector grasped my cock as I sucked his. The hand job he gave me felt too damn good. The other pangs
seemed to fade back as I thrust into his hand. My eyes closed and my throat buzzed with contented
sounds as he gently fucked my mouth. Since he didnt scold me for it, I humped into his grip.
Hector took me to that edge between pain and pleasure that got my adrenaline pumping. I was flying,
but so completely controlled by him that it felt safe. I knew I could trust him not to let me fall. Love and
adoration for him welled inside me. I pushed it out so that he could feel how much I worshipped him.
Hector sighed. I love a happy boy.
Hector pulled his cock out of my mouth and put it back into his pants. I pouted, just a little, until he let
go of my cock and patted my ass. Then I pouted for real. Hectors smile broadened as he watched my
expression change from blissed-out slut to enema boy. I glanced at the clock. Two more minutes to go.
He saw me look. He reached over, picked up the timer, moved the dial, and faced it away from me.
Stunned and desperate, I broke out in fresh tears. Hector picked up the syringe. Horrified, I watched
him refill it. Ill be good! I swear I will!
He slid the tip of the syringe into my hole. I know you will, Baby. I know you will, he crooned as the
pressure inside me increased almost unbearably.
My promises and pleas came out as incoherent sobs. Hector withdrew the syringe and stroked my hair.
Your bottom is so full, isnt it?
Overwhelmed, I slipped inside my mind.
Once upon a time, the place I withdrew to had been like a Japanese tea house with sliding, rice-paper
walls. Over time, it had morphed into our house. It still had some of the touches of the tea house, but it
was home. In my mind, I moved through it like a ghost. The rooms were bigger and the hallway longer. It
seemed to take me forever to get anywhere. Sometimes there was a meditation labyrinth painted on the
floor, and I followed it as I sank deeper into my thoughts. Other times, my mind was blissfully blank.
When I finally reached the kitchen door that led to our back yard, I knew Id almost reached the point I
need to be at. I opened the door, walked down the stairs to our garden, and into the all-encompassing
peace of my subspace.
***
Hours later, I tried to untangle myself from Hector to get out of bed.
He held tight. Where are you going?
To make your dinner, Sir.
That can wait. I wont. He rolled us over so that I was face down. I love a boy after his enema. So
sweet. So relaxed. He kissed my shoulder blades. Thats right, Baby, just relax.
Baby, baby, baby. Did he realize when he talked to me like that that my bottom lip puffed out on its
own? There was no way to stop it. He swore he hated me sulky, but as soon as he started to hustle me, I
slipped into that mood.
I could hear the grin in his voice. Its okay, Baby. Itll be all right. He shoved balls deep into me.
Ah! I grasped the sheets. There was no crawling out from under him even if I wanted to. Too much!
You always say that. Then it feels good, doesnt it? he crooned as he slid his hand under me to grip
my cock.
I nodded.
His chest hair tickled my back as he slowly worked me into raving slut mode. Maybe he was in no hurry
to come, but I was getting there.
No, I moaned. I couldnt take it anymore. I had to rise up on my knees and slam back against each of
his thrusts. Flailing with my arms and legs, I tried to get out from under him.
His harsh grip pinned my arms down. That didnt stop me from trying to buck him off my back. Hectors
breath was jagged. Every time he thrust into me, I clamped down tight and ground my hips in a circle.
Baby, dont fight it, dont-- A deep groan welled up from his chest. He shoved deep into me and held
us there for a long moment before he moved again. He pressed kisses to my sweaty back between heavy
breaths. Oh, little Boy, you know what it does to me when you milk my cock.
I sure did.
He yanked me onto my back. Freed, my hard on pointed for the ceiling. He grinned as he put his finger
to my lips. Not a sound, he whispered.
We lived alone, so there was no reason to be quiet, but he loved to play the game that way. I nodded.
He shackled my wrists and ankles to the wrought-iron bed frame.
He kissed his way down my torso, taking his sweet time before he ran his tongue down my cock. As
soon as I moaned, he wadded up his boxer briefs and shoved them into my mouth.
Thats when the real torture began. He kept taking me to the edge of orgasm and pulling back. Bound
spread eagle, all I could do was endure it. Beads of sweat formed at my temples. I huffed and tried to
thrust into his mouth. Yanking at my bonds, I struggled to get free. He tongued my balls and sucked my
cock until I cursed nonstop into the underwear shoved into my mouth. Tears of frustration freely ran
down my face.
Come, Boy.
My head lifted off the pillow as my load splattered up my stomach.
A sweet, horny surge of power shot out from us in into the world. I swore I could feel every soul it
fondled gasp with pleasure. Chuckling, Hector collapsed on top of me.
Everything was as it should be in my world. I was in my proper place, and Hector was in complete
control.
Or so I thought.
Chapter 2
July Fourth was one of those near-perfect days in Long Beach. It was hot, but the wind was blowing off
the ocean, not the desert, so it wasnt unbearable. There hadnt been a cloud in the sky for months. And
we had tickets to a soccer game.
A little bubble of bouncy joy surrounded me that morning. The three cups of coffee Id downed might
have had something to do with that.
I pounced on the bed. Rise and shine!
Hector clutched the pillow to his ears and shut his eyes tight.
Time to get up, Papi. If you wait much longer, there wont be any coffee left.
Jog first, then coffee, he muttered.
Blow job, jog, then coffee, Sir?
He let go of the pillow. I spoil you.
The sheet tented promisingly below his waist. I pulled it back, unveiling that fat cock I loved to worship.
Yes, you do, Sir. Thank you. Getting on my knees, I considered for a moment what kind of blow job
Id give him.
He grasped my hair and shoved his cock into my mouth. All I could do was breathe through my nose
and relax my throat while he held me there. I set the pace, not you, Boy. He let go of my hair.
Resting my head on his hip, I drew the head of his cock into my mouth and swirled my tongue around it.
He settled back on his pillow, one arm behind his head, the other stroking my hair. Much better.
Maybe it was for him, but I was just getting into it when he pulled his cock out of my mouth. Thats
enough for now. If youre very good today, Ill let you suck me some more. He groaned as he got out
of bed. I bought you a jockstrap. I want you to wear it while were jogging from now on.
Dont you like my balls sore, Sir? They get so tender after the third mile. I was joking, but apparently
he wasnt.
Every morning we go out, there seem to be more men jogging along with us. Im tired of you putting on
a show for them with your dick bouncing around like some go-go boy. Put this on. The jockstrap he
handed me was padded and stiff. Still, I had to admit that the white bands under my ass cheeks and
across the small of my back framed my butt up nicely. It even made the slinky fabric of my running shorts
feel better against my bare skin.
Wanting to keep his mood in a good place, I plopped into Hectors lap and kissed his cheek. Thank
you for the protection, Papi. Its like having your hand over my cock.
He gave me a grudging smile.
When we get back from running, Im going to make you a big poppa bear breakfast. My fingers slid
under his T-shirt to play with his chest hair while I kissed his cheek. Chicken-fried steak, biscuits,
cheesy grits, and bacon--
Im going to have to run twenty miles to work that off. He still sounded gruff.
I gave him the big blue eyes treatment. Ill give you half a grapefruit with it. That totally makes it a
healthy, balanced meal.
Hector chuckled. You nut. Come on. The sooner we start, the sooner I can eat. He nuzzled my neck
and made growly noises. Im getting hungry.
I have an idea. Lets phase down to the beach and run on the path there. Ill bet its nice this time of the
morning. Not too crowded. The last thing I wanted to do was put Hector in a bad mood again.
Are you making gravy, too, Boy?
Cant eat chicken-fried steak and biscuits without it.
He groaned. I can feel my arteries hardening already. You keep feeding me like that and Ill be a fat
poppa bear.
More to love.
He pushed me off his lap and smacked my butt. Sassy little brat.
***
After our brunch, Hector seemed to be in a better mood. He sat on the back porch and did a crossword
puzzle while I worked on my herb garden.
Before I even moved in with Hector, he tore up part of the scraggly lawn in his back yard and gave it to
me to plant. That was one of the best gifts ever. Being a witch and a farm boy, digging in the soil was
more than a chore for me. It was a meditation that gave me strength. It wasnt like the power I got from
being a God. It fed my witch side.
I heard the screen door next door slam. Angelena, the Goddess of Traffic, ambled across her back
yard. Even out of her cop uniform, she was an imposing figure, with sharp, gray eyes and spiky, black
hair. Of all the Gods we knew, she was my favorite. Kind of a big sister, only not as much of a pain in the
ass as my real sister, Linda.
She stood next to the low, cinderblock wall that separated the yards and watered a stand of bright
orange canna lilies. Hey, Hector, once slave boy is finished over there, why dont you send him over to
mow my lawn?
I stuck out my tongue at her. Her shoulder dipped down as she smiled and sprayed my face with water.
Did I say Angelena wasnt as much of a pain in the ass as Linda? Maybe I was wrong.
Hector laughed as I shook the spray from my loose, black curls like a dog escaping the bath. Beads of
water staggered down my bare chest.
Say the word, Goddess, and hes yours to command. But we have tickets to the soccer game tonight,
so I need him back eventually, Hector said.
Angelena turned off her hose and stepped over the wall into our back yard. I might take you up on that,
Hector. Your back yard looks great. Mine looks like a vacant lot.
Thats all Sams doing. Hector said. My yard used to look worse than yours. He put in this brick
patio and the grill, seeded a new lawn, and put in all the plants.
Angelena sat down on a chair next to Hector in the shade of the back porch. She propped her heels up
on the railing. The soles of her blue flip-flops were caked with mud. You should have Sam cut back that
cypress hedge along your driveway, she said.
We all looked at the tall, unkempt row of evergreens that hid the old house beyond it. Once upon a time,
but not long enough ago, Marcus, the God of Fear and my psycho ex-Master, used to live there. It still
gave me the creeps.
I turned my back to it. For all we know, theres a new God of Fear, and he, or she, is living there now
but laying low.
How does that work? Angelena asked. I mean, I know I was an ordinary human being, and then
suddenly, I became a Goddess. How?
My mouth dropped open. You mean you really dont know?
I wasnt raised in the faith like you were, Sam.
How to explain something like that? Its like, theres God power, and when the old God passes away,
it sort of merges souls or something with the best candidate for the position. For new Gods, a critical
mass of worship comes together and it seeks Im not explaining this well.
How does it find the best person, Sam? Hector asked. Do you have something to do with it?
I chewed on my bottom lip. I dont know. Its like I see people, and maybe its because Im a witch
and can see auras or because I was brought up in the faith, but I recognize a lot of Gods before they
come to their powers. Once I recognize them, they seem to come to their powers right away, but Im not
saying I have anything to do with it. Maybe free God power follows me around. Maybe it uses me as a
divining rod. Maybe its just coincidence.
Or maybe you decide, Hector said quietly.
I do not. I kicked a clump of weeds. We arent even sure that Marcus is dead. He could still be living
there, you know, like a vampire or a ghoul.
Angelena made a face. All the more reason to chop that barrier down, Sam. Nothing breeds fear like
the unknown.
My gaze shifted to Hector. Silently, I pleaded with him to spare me from touching that hedge. Every time
I got close to it, it felt as if I were suffocating.
Maybe a different God will take it over if we make it look more inviting, Angelena said.
Sure, but which one would want to live in a dark, forbidding house tainted by such bad karma? I
preferred that the house disappear entirely.
So, youre going to a soccer game tonight? Angelena asked Hector. I sent a little wave of power to
her as my thanks for changing the subject. She winked at me.
My boss gave me the tickets as a reward for beating my sales quota on drill bits. The tickets are box
seats. Plenty of room for one or two more if youd like to come along, Hector told her. And theyre
doing a fireworks show right after the game to celebrate Independence Day.
Box seats? Fancy. Who else is going?
Sams friends Brett and Joey, and Ophir and at least one of his boys.
Angelena took her feet off the railing. Ophir? I never figured him for a sports fan. He seems more the
fussy professorial type.
I had to agree with her there. Maybe not fussy. No one in the leather world ever called a Master fussy.
Ophir was intense, that was for sure. Gorgeous, with light caramel skin, dark eyes set off by darker
lashes, and a vaguely British accent with a hint of Middle Eastern flavor, he cast an aura of quiet, coiled
power. Hed once been Hectors boy. That never ceased to amaze me. I couldnt picture the serious,
studious man bowing down to anyone, much less calling another man Papi.
Ophir played soccer -- he calls it football -- for his national under-twenty team, and played for
Cambridge when he was a student there, Hector said.
I crept closer to the porch. Is that where you met him, Sir?
A smile twinkled in Hectors eyes. He knew how much Ophir loved to cultivate an air of mystery. No
one knew what country he was from or much about him. He was so at ease with his wealth that he
seemed to come from money, and I knew that he and Hector owned several apartment buildings and
commercial properties together, but Id always assumed that Hector gave those things to him.
I met Ophir in a leather club in Amsterdam right after he left the military.
Military? Of what country? I asked.
If you want to know, why dont you ask Ophir? Hectors face danced with mirth and mischief. He
knew how much Ophir intimidated and fascinated me.
Putting my hand on my hip, I lifted my chin. Maybe I will. Who knows? Maybe we can bond over
Hector stories and become best friends forever.
The smile faded from Hectors face.
***
The second we got into our box seats at the soccer stadium, Joey whipped out a huge pair of binoculars
and searched the players warming up down on the pitch. Okay, which one is Beckham? Even though
Joey had let his hair go back to its original color, it was still messy and ber fashionable. I guess as a
graphics designer he needed to look cutting edge at all times. I kind of missed the neon purple spikes,
though. His tight T-shirt rode up, showing off a red dragon tattoo that flicked a tongue of fire at his hip
bone and wound around his slim waist. The tip of the dragons tail was a not-so-subtle arrow pointing
down to Joeys cute little butt. Once upon a time, Id been slimmer than he was, and shorter. Now I
towered over him, and his waist was an inch smaller than mine -- something he brought up all the time.
I went to the front of the box. It wasnt glassed-in like the ones above us, so it wasnt completely
private, but we had three rows of comfortable chairs and a great view. Even back by the door, I could
see the huge TV screen at the north end of the stadium. The grassy hillside was already packed with
people, and the seats in the stadium were filling. The sun was still high, but would set near the end of the
game.
Brett, Mr. Uptight Accountant Preppy Boy, tried to grab the binoculars from Joey. Hes probably the
one with Beckham across the back of his jersey, dumb shit.
Joey jerked away. Im still looking. How is Becks doing his hair nowadays? If he shaved his head, I
think I found him.
But theyre my binoculars! Brett kept tugging.
Tough shit, Brett.
Ophir watched Joey and Brett shove back and forth with the blankest expression Id ever seen on a
persons face. His mouth didnt curl up in disdain or twitch into a smile. His brows didnt furrow, and his
eyes didnt twinkle. Even his body language was mute.
Ophirs Number One slave boy, Chris, looked at Ophir, turned to watch Brett and Joey, and then
looked back over his shoulder at Ophir with big eyes, like a dog itching for permission to chase birds
from the yard. I think he was horrified that my friends didnt show any respect for his Master. Chris
needed to get out of Ophirs house more often if he thought the world gave a damn about proper
respect. Thats what separated us boys from everyone else. We knew that there were some men who
deserved to be worshipped and werent afraid to do it.
Hector took a seat near the door to the box. He was so used to Joey and Brett squabbling that he didnt
seem to notice it anymore.
Found him! Joey called out. Oh, wait.
Hell have on the captains armband, I told them.
Never mind Beckham. Hello, Baby. Joey turned to me. Did we get a program? Whos the hottie in
the black jersey down on the field?
Ophir made a little sound of disdain.
Maybe mixing my friends and Hectors wasnt the best idea after all. Theyd met many times before, but
parties at our house werent the same as being stuck in an eight by ten room for almost two hours.
The field is called a pitch in soccer. And the big guy in the black shirt is the goalie, I told them.
Do we get to see the locker room after the game? Joey nodded, his eyes wide open as he willed me to
say yes. Id scrub that guys back.
Only in your dreams, Brett said.
Ophir took a seat in the front row. Knowing how he felt about slaves sitting on furniture, I was a little
surprised to see Chris sit down, too. Maybe his rules were lifted out in public.
With Brett and Joey busy scoping out the beefcake on the field, there was only one front row seat left,
and it was next to Ophir. That wouldnt have been my first choice of places to sit, but I didnt want to be
in the other row, either. I put my hand on the back of the seat and made an apologetic little hand gesture.
Sit, Sam. Itll be fun to watch with a real fan, Ophir said. He even smiled.
Thank you, Sir. I sat down.
Brett rolled his eyes, but managed to hold his tongue.
So, Sam, Hector tells me youre going to Venice this summer, Ophir said.
That was the most Ophir had ever said to me. I was just a boy. Despite my sass earlier in the day, we
werent equals and would never just chat, or at least I didnt think so.
The magazine is sending me to a bunch of film festivals this year. Ive always wanted to go to Venice.
Its, like, the last weekend of August. From what I hear, its not actually in Venice. Its on Lido, a nearby
island. Hector is going with me.
In that case, since its your first time, stay in Venice and take the vaporetto over to Lido, Ophir said.
Vaporetto?
The water taxi. It takes a little over twenty minutes, but its worth it. Lido isnt very interesting, but
Venice Ophir smiled. Venice can be quite romantic with the right man.
I glanced back at Hector. Romantic? It sounds like Hectors kind of town.
Ophirs smile was almost mischievous as he leaned close to me and whispered. Go for a gondola ride
at night. Pick a gondolier whos family, tip him heavily, and hell make sure you dont get interrupted.
I grinned back. Now, thats the kind of romance I could go for.
Ophir patted my knee and smiled warmly as he looked out at the game.
***
Maybe it was my fault for forgetting my place. Chris managed to watch the game and serve his Master
at the same time. He was the perfect slave boy. He should have been my role model.
In my defense, Hector didnt care for soccer and made it clear he was there just to indulge me. I thought
that meant I was free to enjoy the evening. It was a great game. Even Joey and Brett got caught up in it.
Ophir turned out to be a pretty nice guy, not scary at all. I thought I knew soccer, but he talked about it
on a whole different level. Hed tap my shoulder and point out plays coming together. How he saw it, I
never knew, but then things would suddenly happen the way he predicted they would. I was so absorbed
listening to him talk that I sort of forgot about Hector.
By the time the sun set and the announcers were directing people where to look for the fireworks, it was
already too late to make up for my mistake. I had no idea how much Hector drank during the game, but
from the way his eyes narrowed down to slits, it was a lot. The set of his mouth was harsh. His hands sat
in fists on his thighs, and his aura was almost black, with poisonous green swirling through it.
My stomach knotted up. I knew what those colors meant, but couldnt figure out what had triggered it.
Our beers and snacks were brought to us by a short, Latino girl, and I barely talked to her. Id only left
the box once during the game to piss, and came back right away. Hector hardly paid attention to Brett
and Joey. I didnt talk much with Chris. That only left one person. Hector didnt think Id been flirting
with Ophir, did he? Not Ophir. He was Hectors closet friend. It didnt make sense.
Oh Gods, I wished I hadnt eaten that huge plate of nachos.
Brett and Joey stared intently at the south end of the stadium. Chris leaned forward, his chin on Ophirs
shoulder. Unnoticed by anyone except Ophir, I sank down onto my knees and crawled toward Hector,
hoping a show of submission would ease the tension.
Not knowing what to say when I reached Hector, I tried to rest my forehead on the toe of his shoe. He
moved it away. That close to him, I could feel his seething anger.
Patriotic music blared from speakers. I heard the pop of the first fireworks and the reaction of the
crowd.
Hector rose unsteadily to his feet. I brought you to this game as a reward, and this is how you act?
Sorry, Sir. I whispered, hoping my quiet voice would convince him to lower his. I didnt know what I
had to apologize for, but Id do anything to calm him down.
Right in front of me. What are you trying to do? Talk Ophir into taking you in as one of his boys?
Thats what youve always wanted, isnt it?
Seats creaked and feet shuffled behind me. I knew Brett, Joey, Ophir, and Chris had turned away from
the fireworks to see what Hector was bellowing about. I cringed down further. People outside the box
were beginning to listen in, too. I could feel their curiosity, disgust, and amusement.
Ive got news for you, Little Boy. Youre too old for Ophir. He likes them younger.
That barb was lethal. Hector knew how nervous I was about looking my real age. I mean, twenty-six
wasnt old, but it sure wasnt nineteen.
How many times have I warned you that no one touches you? How many times? How many?
Was I supposed to answer that? My tongue felt thick. If I tried to talk, I knew Id stutter, and everyone
would laugh at me. Shame burned in bright pink over my face and ears.
Someone stepped between us. Stop it! Stop this right now, Hector. For once, it wasnt Brett taking
on Hector. It was Ophir. Sam wasnt flirting, and you know it.
I groaned. Dont. Dont. Dont get involved. Please, Ophir. Youre only making it worse.
Isnt that romantic? Coming to his rescue, Ophir? What was it that seduced you? His big blue eyes?
Im warning you right now, he lies with those. Dont be fooled. Hes just a lying whore.
Ophir sucked in a breath between his teeth. If youre going to blame anyone, Hector, blame me. I
know how possessive you are, but I touched him anyway. He didnt do anything to encourage me.
If there was a color darker than black, Hectors aura went there. I shook.
I wont let you punish him for what I did, Ophir said.
It isnt your place to tell me what to do with my slave, Boy.
How could he talk like that to Ophir? Was Hector trying to humiliate him, too?
Ophir bent down and touched my back. I think you better go home with your friends tonight, Sam.
If I did that, it would convince Hector that Ophir and I had something between us. I just knew it would.
Sam, do what this guy says, Brett said.
Why was everyone looking at me? I wished we could phase home.
Hector raised his hands. Fine, Ophir. You can have him. He flung open the door and lurched out of it.
I jumped to my feet. He was going to leave me?
Brett grabbed my arm. Dont do it, Sam. Hes going to beat the shit out of you.
Hector was walking away. I pushed Bretts hands away.
Hes going to kill you one of these days.
Panic spread through my chest. It felt as if Id lose Hector if I couldnt see him.
I dont think Hector will hit him, Brett, Ophir said. His face was drawn down, as if something pained
him. Please, Sam, go home with your friends. If you run after Hector, hell know he can get away with
it.
You dont understand, I said, not sure who I was talking to. I ran after Hector.
***
Hector didnt hit me. He didnt yell. He didnt clench his hands in and out of fists. He didnt even make
sudden moves that made me flinch. By the time we got to his truck, his rage was mostly gone. He was
like that. Only I understood how he really was. Maybe Ophir did, too. Brett sure didnt.
Hector didnt open the door for me, but he didnt stop me from getting into the truck with him. He didnt
say a word. It took a couple attempts for him to get the key into the ignition.
I chewed on my bottom lip. My Master was too drunk to drive. Did I dare say anything? Or should I
pray for guidance from the Goddess of Traffic? No. Angelena would crucify Hector for driving drunk.
He released the emergency brake and turned the engine over.
Desperate, I pushed some of my power onto Hector, but instead of sex, I dosed it with sleep. His head
lolled. I grabbed the steering wheel and phased us into the driveway back home. When I turned off the
ignition, he was snoring behind the wheel.
***
By the time Hector woke the next morning, Id already eaten breakfast, written a film review, and gone
for my jog. He didnt drink heavily very often, but when he did, breakfast had to be chilquilies with
chorizo. He showered while I fried it up for him.
We didnt talk when he stumbled into the kitchen. I put his plate in front of him and knelt at his feet while
he ate, but didnt rest my head on his thigh. He relaxed his knees while he read the paper. Grunting a bit,
he scratched around his crotch. There was no way I could miss the view up the baggy leg of his shorts.
When I didnt react, he stroked himself until he was hard. All I had to do was lean forward and take his
cock into my mouth. He was trying to tempt me with sex? Me? Hah! Well, okay, if I hadnt been so
pissed off at him, I would have gone for it.
He pretended to read for a while longer, but he watched me from the corner of his eye. If he wanted an
excuse to make the tension my fault, he was looking at the wrong boy. One thing Id learned serving him
was how to keep my mind in a holding pattern so that emotions didnt show on my face or in my posture.
After a while, he folded his paper and rose from the kitchen table. I got to my feet and took his plate to
the sink. Tension itched between my shoulder blades. He walked out of the kitchen. I closed my eyes,
took a calming breath, and concentrated on scrubbing the frying pan.
He got as far as the living room before he changed his mind and came back to the kitchen.
More coffee, Sir? I asked without turning around.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled against my neck. I didnt hit you. I didnt even think
about it. You have to give me credit for that much, Sam.
He was so sad that I almost felt sorry for him.
I do, Hector.
Im working on the jealousy, but its going to take time.
I nodded.
Thank you for the chiliquilies. They were good.
Youre welcome, Sir. I reached for the dishrag to dry the frying pan.
Dont be cold, Baby. Dont shut me out. His lips pressed to that spot below my ear that usually made
me melt.
It was a trap. If I said I was just doing my chores, it would sound as if I were sulking. But if I leaned into
his chest, even the slightest bit, hed think everything was fine and forgiven and hed saunter off, confident
that Id let it go.
You humiliated me, Sir. My face went red at the memory. What had all those strangers thought of me?
His lips pulled away from my neck.
I only have one hard limit. From the very beginning, the only thing I made you promise was that you
never humiliate me in public.
His hands slid up my arms.
My temper must have been on some sort of time delay, because the long slow burn flared up. I spun
around. Dont you ever, ever do that to me again. I met his gaze straight on.
Maybe he expected me to quake in the silence and rush in with apologies, but I didnt. If anything, he
was the one who seemed unnerved by the moments as they passed. He got sort of a sly look in his eye,
and the barest hint of a smile crept over his mouth. Then he opened his eyes wide, the picture of sincerity.
Youre right, Baby.
That wasnt an apology, but that was as much as Id ever get out of him. Was I willing to settle for that?
I didnt know.
He got that sly look again. He brought my hand to his lips. Give me a chance. He pressed closer. My
poor Boy. He kissed my cheek as his hands slid down my arms. Let me make it up to you. I know
what you need, sweet Baby. His voice dropped into a deep whisper as he got that urban accent
working. I can make you feel good. Would you like that?
Sweet Baby. Hot Baby. Sexy Baby. Did he ever know how to wriggle past my defenses. And man, he
knew exactly what buttons to push to get my engine revving. His hand caressed the nape of my neck, and
he pulled me close for one of those long kisses that sent my senses reeling. Still, I wasnt so sure I
wanted to give in. My dick sure was. My brain wasnt convinced.
Sensing my reluctance, Hector went into hustle overdrive. Next thing I knew, I was face down on the
bed, my shorts down to my knees. His big hands forced my ass cheeks apart so that he could rim me.
He tongue fucked me for a long time until he won my body over.
He rolled onto his back. Lets see how well you ride, cowboy.
It wasnt the time to remind him that I wasnt from the part of Oklahoma that had cowboys. I lubed his
cock -- first with spit, and then with the real thing -- straddled his thighs, and lowered myself onto his
cock. Without warning, he bucked violently under me. I grabbed for the headboard. He lifted his head
and sank his teeth into my nipple.
The person on top was supposed to have control, but it was everything I could do to hang on. Hectors
big hands held me in place while he set the pace. I grunted when he released my nipple and bit down on
the other one. My balls smacked painfully against his groin.
Come now!
I shot my load into his chest hair.
Lick it up, Boy.
After I cleaned him up, he wrestled me down onto my stomach. I figured he was going to get off, but he
filled me with a butt plug instead.
You better just get used to the idea that your ass is going to be filled all day long, either with my cock
or that plug. I dont plan on coming until after dinner, but between now and then, were going to play a
long game of sex slave.
Grinning, I climbed out of bed.
Dont bother to put on clothes. I want you naked and ready to be fucked at all times. And another
thing, get down on the floor.
Damn. My cock was hard again already. I got on my hands and knees and waited to see what else he
planned to do to me.
Hector gently grasped my balls and coaxed them deep into my sack. I gasped as he kept working them
and stretching the skin. My head bowed. I could see my cock pointing right at my face. A clear drop
beaded at my piss slit.
Cold metal clamped between my balls and my ass, and I heard a lock click into place. Hed put me in
the humbler, which was sort of like stocks, but instead of my neck through the hole in the middle, it was
my balls. The metal bar pressed against the backs of my thighs. My balls felt as if they could burst.
Hector ran his fingernails lightly over them until I trembled.
With the humbler on, I couldnt stand up. I could barely kneel. My balls were exposed for Hectors
amusement, and man, could he find devious ways to amuse himself when I was helpless like that.
He smacked my butt. Thats what I like to see. Now run along and do your chores.
I crawled out of the room knowing that Id left a small puddle of precome on the wood floor. No
doubt Id get paddled for that. At least, I hoped I would.
Just as quickly as the honeymoon had ended, it was back on again.
Chapter 3
Blood welled in the cut on my bottom lip. The copper flavor of it filled my mouth when I licked it away.
Hector sat on a white, French Provincial chair that seemed too fragile for his muscular frame. The set of
his mouth grew harsher as I paced yet another lap from the wardrobe to the far side of the double bed.
Any normal person visiting Venice for the first time would have leaned out the window to look at the
moonlit lagoon below our hotel window, or gazed across the rooftops in wonder and awe at the quiet
city. Not me. I was in meltdown mode.
At least back home I had packing and last minute details to distract me. Once we checked in to our
cramped hotel room and everything was hung in the wardrobe, there was no way I could avoid thinking
about the coming week. So I paced, and chewed on my bottom lip until it bled, and then for good
measure tugged on my hair until I had a headache.
All right. Ive had enough of this, Hector said. He rose from the chair and strolled over to me. Lets
go get some dinner.
I shook my head. I have things to do.
Like pacing for another hour and fretting until you collapse?
No. I have to check the schedule for tomorrow.
Another hundred times? Sam, you have to calm down. Everything is going to be okay. Youve been to
film festivals before.
But this is the Venice Film Festival, the oldest one in the world! And Ive never had to cover one for a
real magazine.
Those crinkles I loved appeared around his warm brown eyes. All you have to do is watch movies and
write your reviews and make a few gossipy blog entries. Youve worked your ass off to get to this point
in your career. You deserve to be here. You do know that Im proud of you, dont you, Boy?
Was there a sweeter man on the face of the planet? I didnt think so. He didnt praise me often, but
when he did, he meant it.
I glanced over at my laptop and thought about checking the schedule and maps one more time. No
matter how many times I looked at them, I couldnt seem to keep the information in my head. It would
be so easy to get lost or to miss an important interview, and then my editor, George, would know he
made a mistake hiring me. I bit my bottom lip again.
Hectors thumb eased my lip out from between my teeth. None of that. What you need, little Boy, is a
relaxing dinner and good nights sleep.
Little? Im as tall as you now. I didnt have Hectors muscular bulk, but I was no longer a small, slim
boy.
Dont start fretting about your age now, too. Youre tense enough as it is. Hector took my hand.
Come on. Lets go find something to eat.
By the time Hector and I went in search of dinner, the entire city of Venice seemed to have gone to bed.
Even the moon seemed to glow grudgingly on the dark alleyways. It must have been past midnight.
Im sorry, Sir. I screwed up the time change. If I hadnt wasted all that time in the hotel room, we
probably would have found a place still open. Im sorry. No matter how many times I apologized, it
didnt seem like enough.
Dont get yourself worked up again, Sam. It was an easy mistake to make. Well figure something out.
We walked up the stairs to our hotel lobby. A sweaty night clerk gave us our room key and then turned
his attention back to the screen of his iPod.
I pushed the button for the elevator. I can phase back home and make your dinner, Sir. Do you want
chicken? I think theres some in the freezer.
Sam.
Maybe I should stop by the market. I didnt leave much food in the house since were going to be gone
for a week. By the time I finished cooking it would be way past Hectors usual dinner time, and he was
really strict about his schedule. What could I make that was fast?
Sam.
Or I can pick up a pizza if youre okay with that.
Boy!
I stopped in my tracks. Sir? How angry was he? I was almost afraid to look, so I let my gaze work its
way up from his feet and hoped that his body language would give me a hint. Hector stood with his feet
wide apart, and his muscular arms were folded over his broad chest. That didnt tell me much, so I
quickly glanced at his mouth. The corners of his lips curled oh so slightly, as if I amused him.
Were in Italy, and youre thinking of phasing home to pick up a pizza for dinner? Hector asked.
I nodded.
His mouth twitched. Baby. Think about it.
I would have tried to figure out why he was laughing at me, but I had more important matters on my
mind. It was my job to make sure he got his dinner when he expected it, and I wasnt going to screw up
the one thing I always did right.
The tiny, ancient elevator finally arrived in the lobby, although it took its time deciding to open its doors
for us. We stood shoulder to shoulder inside it as it slowly shimmied its way up to the fourth floor.
So you dont want pizza? Let me check the pantry. Maybe I can heat up a can of something for you. I
phased back home. The H brand on my ass cheek immediately flared with scorching heat. Oh man. I
was in real trouble. I immediately phased back to the hotel room.
Before I could plead my case, Hector grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him. As he unbuttoned my
shirt, he gazed into my eyes, but didnt say anything.
S-S-Sir, I--.
Quiet. He pulled off my shirt and then made me sit on the bed. He knelt down and removed my shoes.
Are you hungry, Baby?
Staring at my hands, I shook my head.
I should make you eat, but youll probably just throw up. Youve got to stop working yourself up like
this or youre going to get an ulcer. I want you to focus. Lie down and listen to my voice. Is the overhead
light harsh on your eyes? Ill turn it off. Hectors voice got soft. As soon as he got that sexy, urban
rhythm in his voice, I was putty in his hands, and he knew it. Is that better? Can you hear the water in
the canal? The tide must be coming in. He slipped off my pants. The city is so quiet right now. Are you
listening to the water?
My head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, but I managed to nod.
Hands.
I raised my hands above my head so that he could shackle me to the headboard. Then, like every night
at home, he kissed my forehead. That simple ritual made me smile a little.
The bed creaked as he sat at the end of the mattress. He took my foot between his big hands and
rubbed the arch. When he was done with my feet, he slid his hands up to my calves. So much tension.
Let it go, Baby.
My entire focus was on his hands. They slid above my knees for a tantalizing moment, but then went
back to working my calves. He kept working a bit higher up my thighs and then moving back to my
calves until all the tension in my body seemed focused on my groin.
I know what you need, he said, and he was right. Oh man, was he ever right. His mouth covered the
head of my cock and then slowly took me in. Hot, wet suction ignited every nerve in my body. He
wrapped a hand around the base of my cock and stroked while his other hand cupped my balls. A few
flicks of his tongue and I was panting. The sight of his lips sliding down my shaft made my hips jerk.
When Hector talked, his voice was so quiet that I had to strain to hear it over my ragged breathing. He
crooned like he was hustling me, but I couldnt figure out what he wanted. Sweet Baby. Hot Baby.
Baby, Baby, Baby. Whatever he wanted, Id give it to him.
As he pumped my cock, my knees drew up to my chest. Oh man, what was he doing with his lips? It felt
incredible. He spat on my hole and teased it with a finger. I wanted to grip his short, black hair and fuck
his mouth, or to grab his cock and guide it to my ass, but the shackles held me back. Arcs of electricity
snapped between us where we touched. He shoved his finger deep into my ass and stroked my prostate
so that it felt as if my cock was being massaged all over.
Come.
My ass gripped hard around his finger. I grunted. He plunged his mouth over my cock and took my
load.
Minutes later, I still couldnt talk.
Feel better now? More relaxed?
I gave him a slow grin. Relaxed? Hell. Hed turned my bones to jelly.
Youre going to be fine tomorrow. Hector stroked my hair. It was hard to keep my eyes open when
the sensation of a soft, warm blanket slowly drew up my body. Something was dragging me under, but it
felt too comfortable to fight. I heard a deep sigh and realized it was mine, but it seemed to come from
somewhere far away. My eyes wouldnt open.
Good Boy. You will be asleep by the time I get undressed, Hector told me.
What happened next was too hazy for me to recall. I might have said, Yes, Sir, or maybe only
nodded, if even that. Hector quietly moved away from the bed, and the last thought I remembered having
was, When did he learn to cast a sleep spell?
***
I woke to the pealing of church bells. Soft morning light reflected on the ceiling of our hotel room. The
day was already warm. I tried to see what time it was, but there was no clock on the nightstand. If Id
been thinking, I would have counted the church chimes from the beginning, but I wasnt sure if they tolled
the hours or simply reminded everyone that it was time for Mass. Whatever the answer, it was too damn
early to be up. My body protested that it was still the middle of the night, and back home, it was.
Groaning, I tried to put my pillow over my ears to drown out the bells, but the chain securing me to the
headboard was too short.
Hector mumbled something. His lips pressed to my neck above my slave collar, and he ground his hard
on against my butt.
Good morning, Sir, I whispered.
Hector growled, but not in an angry way. The sound sent shivers down my spine. Smiling, I wriggled
against him. He growled again and tightened his grip on me. Gentle kisses blessed my bare shoulders. I
yawned, stretched my legs, and rolled over to face him -- not easy with my hands chained to the
headboard. His warm brown eyes crinkled up at the corners as he grinned at me.
Venice. Hector said it like he was evoking a holy word. Maybe for him it was. He was the God of
Love, after all, and what city was more romantic than Venice?
Maybe we could do a little exploring before I head over to Lido to check in with the media people, I
said.
He rolled over and picked up his watch. After squinting at the face for a while, he put on his reading
glasses. He groaned and collapsed against the mattress. Whos up this early?
The bell ringers.
Smart ass. He smacked my butt hard and then released me from my shackles.
Giving him a quick kiss, I got out of bed.
When I came out of the bathroom, Hector stood at the open window. He was nude. His broad
shoulders and the dimples at the small of his back were an awesome sight. The light seemed to wrap
around his warm brown skin and highlighted the dark hair on his forearms and thighs. To me, he looked
like one of those statues of Hercules -- masculine and powerful. Even if he hadnt been a God, he would
have been god-like.
Someone should paint you like that, Sir. Or make a sculpture. Youre so I was going to say hot, but
the word that came out of my mouth was, beautiful.
He didnt turn from the window, but he extended his hand toward me. I took it. He drew me in front of
him and wrapped his arms around my waist. I leaned back against his chest as we took in our first
daylight glimpse of Venice together.
Below our window was a canal. Several buildings down, the canal widened into a small lagoon where
thirty or so gondolas were tied together. A man climbed across the boats, which were tied together in the
mooring, until he reached the one that was his. He stripped off his shirt, revealing a toned stomach and
beefy arms before he pulled on his red and white striped work shirt.
Once that show was over, I took in the rest of the view. The skyline was punctuated with crosses and
domes. I knew that we werent far from St. Marks Square and the Doges Palace. The surrounding
neighborhood was a jumble of homes and shops. The apartment building directly across the canal from
our hotel room was taller than the hotel. Its walls were warm sienna with small, wrought-iron balconies
that were crowded with plants. Several stories down, a black and white cat sunned himself in a window.
We stood in our embrace for a long time as we watched early-rising tourists carefully climb into the
gondolas. Soon only a few boats were left in the lagoon. The smell of the sea filled the air. Sunlight
bounced off every surface so that the city glowed. Hectors aura wrapped around me like a cloak.
Everything was so perfect at that moment that I didnt dare speak and break the spell.
Church bells chimed again, but they sounded further away.
A city of churches, Hector mumbled in my ear. A city of Gods.
***
While Hector was in the shower, I phased home to make his breakfast. It was the middle of the night in
Long Beach, and I think it was still yesterday there. As I tried to wrap my head around that thought, I
almost overcooked the eggs.
Back in our hotel room, I set the small table with one plate, one set of silverware, and two mugs. The
water shut off in the shower. I phased home, grabbed the freshly brewed coffee, and phased back.
Proud of my timing, I went to my knees, clasped my hands behind my back, bowed my head, and waited
for my Master.
Hector strode out of the bathroom with a white towel wrapped around his waist. Whats this?
Breakfast, Sir.
He cupped my chin in his hand and forced me to look up at him. Youre supposed to be working.
Serving you is my job, Sir.
Hector flipped the D-ring at the front of my slave collar. And you do a good job of it, but while were
here, I want you to focus on your career.
I can do both.
Dont be stubborn, Sam.
Im not!
Talking back? He shook his head. I thought youd finally learned your lesson about that. Are we
going to have a discipline problem?
My eyes wide, I shook my head. He smirked when he saw that my hands move down to cover my butt,
as if that would stop him. Hed been right -- there was one punishment Id never forgotten, and never
wanted repeated again.
Hector parted the front of the towel around his waist and gripped the base of his cock. So we have an
understanding? While were here, you concentrate on your work, and Ill take care of myself.
Yes, Sir.
From the way he gripped his cock, I was afraid for a moment that meant hed take care of that, too, but
he stepped closer and rubbed the head across my lips. Grateful, I took his entire cock into my mouth. He
sighed and caressed my hair as I worked my tongue gently around his foreskin. If I could have used my
hands, I would have had him moaning, but the rules were that they had to stay clasped behind my back.
Before long, every inch of that fat cock was slick with spit and gliding past my lips. I was working a little
suction around the head when Hector pulled out of my mouth.
Breakfast is getting cold.
Hector sat at the table. I crawled over to him and tried to nuzzle under his towel. He forced me to look
up into his eyes. My stern poppa gazed down at me. Why are there only two eggs on this plate?
Im not hungry.
Sam, you didnt eat dinner last night.
Neither did you, Sir.
After you fell asleep, I phased home and heated up a can of ravioli.
That explained the mess in the sink. Of all the things you could have heated up, you ate canned pasta?
The Italians would have your head on a plate if-- And then, finally, I got why hed laughed at me the
night before when I mentioned phasing back home to Long Beach to pick up a pizza for us. I burst out
laughing.
Hector patted my head. Ill make you a deal. You dont tell the Italians what I had for dinner last night,
and I wont tell them that you tried to send out to America for a pizza.
Imagining their horrified expressions, I nodded. Itll be our dirty little secret.
The French Provincial chair creaked as Hector leaned back in it. Breakfast is the most important meal
of the day, Baby, so open your mouth.
Thats your breakfast, Sir.
Hectors eyebrow hitched up. Sometimes I thought he was itching for an excuse to give me another
enema. Well, I wasnt going to give him one. I opened my mouth. He put a forkful of eggs on my tongue.
After I swallowed it, he offered a slice of toast to me. Even though my stomach clenched at the smell of
food, I bit into the bread. Plum jam smeared across my mouth. Hector bent down to lick it off. Grasping
the back of my head with his hand, he shoved his tongue into my mouth.
He broke away from the kiss. Clean the plate, and Ill give you something better than coffee to wash it
down with. His free hand stroked his cock under the table. Oh yeah, he knew exactly how to keep me
in line.
Hardly tasting the eggs and toast, I obediently chewed and swallowed. All I wanted was to earn my
chance to finish the blow job Id started. My eyes focused on Hectors cock, I opened my mouth and
waited for the next bite of food.
Hector chuckled. That was the last of it. Even your coffee cup is empty, Baby.
I would have been embarrassed, but he already knew what a slut I was.
Still worried about today? Hector asked.
Hector said that I had a bad habit of ignoring the eight hundred pound gorilla in the room until it flattened
me. Maybe that was true. Everyone from Angelena to my therapist told me that I had to stop saying I
was fine when I wasnt. That was a hard habit to break, but I was working on it. Im all jittery, I
admitted as I tried to figure out if I was allowed to suck his cock yet or not. Ive checked my
paperwork about a thousand times, but I have this horrible feeling that theyre going to turn me away or
have me arrested as an imposter.
Any other person would have laughed at me for saying that, but not Hector. He knew about my
nightmares. Do you want me to be nearby when you check in, just in case?
That was so tempting, but I said, No. I can do this.
I know you can. Hed stopped stroking his cock. Get on the bed in inspection position.
Scrambling to obey, I climbed on the narrow bed. My chest pressed to the mattress, I spread my knees
wide apart and reached between my legs to grasp my ankles. A twinge went through the small of my
back as I lifted my butt high.
Maybe I was in a hurry, but Hector wasnt. He knew how uncomfortable that position was for me,
which was probably why he finished reading his newspaper before ambling over to the bed.
The ritual of inspection drove me crazy. It was always the same. He stood back and eyed my position. If
my back wasnt arched enough, he slapped my butt. When he wanted my knees spread further, he
smacked the insides of my thighs. After he had me posed the way he liked, the slow, caressing torture
began.
Hectors warm hands leisurely stroked my back, shoulders, and thighs. As much as I tried to keep quiet,
low moans pushed out of my chest. When he stroked my cock, my balls pulled tight.
Turn over.
Hector leaned down to kiss me. I stretched my arms over my head and pretended they were bound. My
chin tipped up so that he could have my throat, but since hed put the slave collar on me, it was hard for
him to bite me.
Hector crawled onto the bed and straddled my face. He let me lick his balls for a while, but then got on
his hands and knees and shoved his cock into my mouth. Then, oh man, he licked my hard on. A jolt ran
through my body. Hector chuckled when he saw me jump. He slid his mouth oh so slowly over the head
of my cock and down the shaft.
My hands gripped his hard bubble butt so that I could feel the flex of his muscles as he fucked my
mouth. I slid my fingertips down to his hairy thighs and then squeezed his balls. He lifted up so that his
cock pulled out of my mouth. The head, coated with my spit, banged against my face. I lifted my head up
to chase that fat hard on. He slammed back into my mouth and pinned me against the mattress. For a
long time, he held me there with my nose pressed against his taint. My nostrils flared to take in his scent.
When I had to breathe, I tapped his thigh. He didnt move. I squirmed and tapped again. He crushed me
under his weight while he ruthlessly slammed his fist up and down my cock.
As my vision went to static at the corners of my eyes, he suddenly lifted off me. I gulped air into my
burning lungs. He quickly knelt on my arms, pinning them to the mattress. Grasping a handful of my hair,
he lifted my head and mercilessly fucked my mouth. Then he pulled back and jerked off. Hot jism hit my
lips, my cheek, and dripped down my chin.
Dont lick it up.
Hector sprawled on top of me and wrapped his arm around my head. He licked his come off my face
and shoved his tongue into my mouth.
Mmmm, thank you, Sir, I said after Id sucked his load out of his mouth and into mine. My hands
rubbed from the small of his back up to his head. I couldnt grasp his hair as he did mine, but I managed
to pull him down for another kiss.
Hector gripped my cock. We have unfinished business. He clamped his teeth around one of my
nipples.
Huffing, I tried to hold still. He bit harder. Whimpering, I tried to stay on top of the pain. His bottom
teeth sliced my skin, and he sucked hard, drawing out my blood. The bed creaked and groaned as I
bucked under him.
Come for me. A groan ripped out of me as I spurted over his hand.
***
Hector made me change clothes four times before he was satisfied that I was dressed properly for my
first day at the festival. I was tempted to complain that none of the other journalists would be wearing the
latest fashion from a famous Italian design house, but from the evil smirk quirking at the edge of his lips, I
knew he was waiting for me to mouth off. Not this boy.
If I had been forced to admit it, I would have confessed that nothing felt as comfortable as a well-made
piece of clothing. The dove gray linen suit and pale yellow shirt felt great against my skin. When I caught
my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I was surprised how the clothes transformed me from a cheap slut
to an almost respectable professional. What was under the clothes was a completely different matter,
though.
As Hectors fingertips brushed against the bandage over my nipple, I winced. Sensitive, Baby? he
asked.
Ill be feeling your bite all day, Sir, but I dont mind. Itll be like youre there with me. At least in spirit.
A dark bruise already showed on my pale skin. His bite hadnt bled much, so he was careful to clean the
wound well before he put the bandage over it. My nipple still throbbed.
He straightened my bright yellow Hermes tie and frowned. While youre working, Ill allow you to hide
the slave collar.
My hand went to the thick metal band that showed above my shirt. Im proud to be your slave. I dont
care who knows.
Hector shook his head. I know you dont, but I dont want it to affect your career.
The only job that matters to me is serving you, Sir. The idea that hed take the collar away worried
me. Ive never hidden who I was, or what I was, from anyone.
Hector sighed. That was before. Youve been floating along in your little bubble world where nothing
touches you, but no matter how much I try to protect you, I cant keep the real world away from you
anymore. Youre going to come under a lot of scrutiny as you mingle with the international media. Like it
or not, people will judge you based on that collar, and most of them wont be able to accept it. I dont
want you to be hurt by the terrible things people can say. He kissed my forehead. Hiding my collar
wont change who you are. We know the truth, and havent we always agreed that our understanding is
more important than what the rest of the world thinks?
How many times had I told Brett the same thing when he ranted about my relationship with Hector? I
dont think its fair to use my words against me, I grumbled.
His eyes crinkled up at the corners as he grinned at me. Im the Master. I can say anything I want to.
I put my hands into the pockets of my new pants. My shoulders slouched a bit, but I tilted my chin and
slowly lifted my gaze to meet his as I grinned. And Im the slave, so Ill obey.
Hector hooked his finger into the ring on my slave collar and pulled me close. Have I ever told you how
hot you are when you submit?
***
From the Grand Canal, I took a vaporetto to Lido Island, where all the film festival events were held. A
group of German tourists boarded with me. The kids carried plastic buckets and shovels. They were
probably headed to the beach, where they could spend the day in the warm waters of the Adriatic Sea. I
envied them.
The gray-green water in the lagoon was choppy. I liked the roll of the sea, but the other tourists out on
the bow shoved into the cabin to escape the occasional spray of water.
An older man remained on the bow. He wore chunky black sunglasses. A long lock of wavy, gray hair
wouldnt stay out of his face even though he tried to smooth it back. Something about him struck me as
familiar. Racking my brain, I tried to remember where Id seen him before. When he stood and I could
see his profile, the answer came immediately. He was Josef Dudeka, the director of several critically
acclaimed European films that I still counted among my favorites. He had a genius for bringing small,
character-driven stories to the screen. Hed even won a Silver Lion from the Venice Film Festival for his
skill as a director.
I was so excited to see him that before I knew it, I was standing beside him. M-M-Mr. Dudeka? The
effort to get his name out almost made me scuttle to the back of the boat.
You have me confused with someone else, he said in French.
Oh. We were going to play that game. I stood near him, but not close enough to invade the protective
space he seemed to draw around himself. We both looked toward the red tile roofs of the buildings on
the island. I worked through my breathing exercises to calm down and get on top of my stutter. He
gripped the railing with arthritic hands.
When I worked up the nerve to speak again, I kept my voice quiet so that only he could hear it. I am
such a fan of Josef Dudeka. He directed this incredible film six or seven years ago. It has always been
one of my favorites. I sat through the film three times in a row, and went back the next day to see it again.
Ive always sworn that if I ever met him, I would tell him how much I enjoyed his work.
He wrote the screenplay, too, he reminded me in a gravelly voice.
It was a struggle not to grin at the touch of pride that gave him away. Of course. He always writes his
own scripts. Maybe thats why his films are so brilliant. He understands the story he wants to tell.
He huddled down into his jacket, but I could see his grudging smile. Perhaps one day youll get the
chance to tell him.
If I could, I would tell him that he is truly a great talent. By the way, Im Samuel Dewey, the film critic
for Park Avenue Magazine. Im here to cover the festival. If youre here for it, too, maybe well meet
again. Somehow, I managed to say all that and smoothly hand him one of my business cards without
making a fool of myself. I didnt want to keep intruding on his space, though. It was a great pleasure
speaking to you, sir.
Even though I didnt want to go into the sheltered part of the boat, I felt it was best to back away at that
point. Every seat was taken below deck, so I had to stand. I leaned against the bulkhead and exhaled.
Id done it. Id talked to Josef Dudeka, one of my idols, and only stuttered a little. I couldnt wait to tell
Hector. Hed be so proud of me.
Through a sea-spray encrusted window, I watched Mr. Dudeka. As we pulled into the vaporetto
terminal on Lido, he tossed my card into the trash. That stung a little, but what did I expect? He was a
legend. I was just a God.
***
Lido Island was nothing like Venice. The buildings looked more French than Italian to me, with formal
faades and high-ceilinged galleries behind tall, narrow windows. I preferred the less intimidating look of
Venice, but the trees shading the street were a welcome relief from the hot September sun. I had yet to
see a tree in Venice.
The first thing that surprised me about Venice was that there were no streets. Sure, they called the
walkways streets, but no car could have driven down them or crossed over the many bridges.
Everywhere you went in Venice, you walked or took a boat. So I laughed a little at myself when I
walked out of the vaporetto terminal on Lido and was shocked to see cars and buses. How was it that in
less than twenty-four hours, cars had become strange to me?
I wondered if Venice had its own version of Angelena, the Goddess of Traffic. My powers covered the
whole earth, so maybe hers did, too. When we got back home, Id ask her. There were so many things I
didnt know about the other Gods and Goddesses, because one of the unwritten rules was that we
stayed out of each others business, but I figured that Angelena would tell me. I bet she had some great
gondola traffic jam stories.
I walked out to the Gran Viale Santa Maria Elisabetta, which seemed to be the main street running the
length of Lido Island. While the tourists pushed onto buses at the vaporetto terminal, I strolled up the
street. The film festival was at the north end of the island. I figured that signs would point me in the right
direction if I headed that way. Lido was very narrow, so it wasnt as if I could get too lost.
The further north I went, the more expensive the neighborhood got. The shops on either side of the
street were pretty much the same as those in Beverly Hills and on Melrose Avenue. I wondered how rich
a person had to be before shopping at Prada was like my family going to Wal-Mart.
The grand Palladian-style hotels along the beach on the north end of the island sat in the middle of
expansive gardens. Apparently, the island had been quite the resort over a hundred years ago. It was still
nice, but Id been told to stick to the private beaches at the hotels if I wanted to go into the water. The
rest of the beaches were supposed to be funky, and not in a good way.
As I expected, there were signs for the film festival, but they seemed to be for the tourists. I walked
around a bit more, but saw nothing about the media check-in. Even though there was no reason for me to
get stressed out yet, my chest tightened and a mini panic attack swept over me. I tried to calm down and
breathe normally.
Are you looking for the media check-in, too?
A jaw-droppingly gorgeous, Latin boy sauntered over to me. He had a camera around his neck. The
long, fat lens dangled down his slim torso. The yellow and green Brazilian flag on his camera bag gave
away his nationality. His straight, black hair was cut long so that his bangs swept down to his full, mocha
lips. The top buttons of his shirt were open to reveal a smooth, muscled chest and one deep brown
nipple. I instantly knew two things about him -- he used eye liner to accentuate his puppy-dog brown
eyes, and he was a God.
I think we check in over this way. He pointed to the far end of the festival entrance.
Maybe it was coincidence, but a twinge of pain shot through my nipple, and I could picture Hector
reminding me that, according to his rules, I had to talk to people who talked to me. So instead of
stammering something and slinking away, I offered my hand to the little Brazilian hottie. Sam Dewey.
Alberto Renaldo. His accent rolled seductively over his name. He held onto my hand for a moment
longer than a straight guy would have. Fame, he boasted.
Sex, I admitted.
His gaze swept over me, lingered below my belt, and then rose back to mine. As if there was any
doubt. Then he laughed, showing perfect, white teeth that contrasted so well with his sun-darkened
complexion.
I bet Alberto spent a lot of time on the beaches in Rio, strutting down the sand and flirting with everyone.
He probably wore the briefest Speedo he could get away with, and he looked damn hot in it, too.
Alberto gestured toward a huge, white tent. Come on. Im sure our entrance is over this way.
Are you a journalist? I asked.
Celebrity videographer. I must have looked confused, because he grinned impishly. Paparazzo.
Maybe I needed my eyes checked, because posted on the chain link fence ten feet away from me was a
huge sign that said Media Check-In. How could I have missed that? It was even in English.
Alberto and I headed over to the gate. Before they let us in, we had to pass through security. Since the
only things I carried were my credentials, I was waved through fairly quickly, but Albertos camera bag
had to pass through the metal detector twice before they allowed him through. He was a fellow God,
probably gay, and very cute, so I waited for him.
You could have summoned the cameras to you later and avoided all that, I said.
He flashed that perfect smile at me. I keep forgetting. I only came into my powers recently, so I keep
doing things the way I used to.
So do I, because Ive learned not to waste power, but some things are worth it.
Me, I waste my power on stupid things, like having the right song on when I want to dance with
someone, or hiding a sign from a sexy man when I want an excuse to talk to him.
Did he mean me? Oh! Gods, I was slow sometimes. No wonder I hadnt seen the sign. You really
should bank away some of that power. Believe me -- you dont want to be caught short in an
emergency.
Alberto nodded. I should listen to you.
A blast of worship sprang off him and hit me square in the chest. When had I become the voice of
experience? I felt like a fraud giving advice on how to be a God, but he nodded solemnly as if Id offered
pearls of wisdom.
Well, have fun. I gave him a half-hearted wave and went into the big, white media tent. It was
sweltering under there. As Id predicted, I was one of the few people wearing a suit. I nodded to the
guys I recognized from press junkets in Los Angeles. Seeing them took the edge off my anxiety. I knew
how the festivals worked. It was a ritual that didnt change despite the exotic setting. I was going to be
okay.
Alberto got in line for press packets with me. So, youre a journalist? What paper are you with?
I was so bad at small talk. Park Avenue Magazine.
His nose crinkled up. It was so adorable. Page after page of words. Not enough pictures. And they
never buy freelance photos.
Yeah. Theyre known for short stories, literary articles, and theater reviews. But youre right. All of the
pictures are from professional shoots. Its a very, uh, artsy magazine.
So, do you only review artsy films?
Our conversation was making me fidgety. He kept turning those worshipful eyes on me and flashing that
cute grin. Every time he said something, he reached out to touch me. I didnt like him being that close.
When I moved away, he followed. Remembering that most of the world had different ideas of personal
space, I gritted my teeth and tried not to be rude. It wasnt exactly awful having such a hot guy hanging
onto every word I said.
The magazines editors look down their noses at popular entertainment, but they want celebrities on the
cover, so they strongly suggest I review the big studio films, which is a nice way of saying they demand
that I do. I tend to like the smaller pictures, so I slip in a few every month in my column. Our readers
prefer smaller art house films to the blockbusters, or at least they like to be able to speak knowledgeably
about them at cocktail parties, so its a good match between their taste and mine. Thats why the
magazine hired me. At least, thats why George, my editor, said he wanted me to work for them. My
agent says different.
What does your agent say?
I leaned close to him and lowered my voice, She says George has a hard on for me. That sounded
crass, but it was a lot cleaner than what Deal had actually said.
Who doesnt?
When I fell silent, Alberto touched my arm again. So how did you get this agent? Maybe I need an
agent, too.
I took my press packet and got into the next line for my media pass. Alberto got in line behind me again,
so I figured the conversation was still on. Several years ago, I asked Deal to look over a contract Id
been offered. She sort of took over my professional life from then on, whether I wanted her to or not.
Shes a Goddess, I whispered.
His eyes widened. You know other Gods? Youre the first one Ive ever met. Whats she like?
What was the best way to describe Deal? Nordic she-bitch? Ball-busting ice princess? Frightening, I
told him.
Id love to meet her. Do you know any others?
Agents?
He shook his head. Gods.
Oh, sure. All our neighbors. But lets not talk about this here. Humans have a way of hearing what they
want to hear, but its best not to talk too openly around them.
He gave the others in the tent a disdainful look. I dont care about them. You said our neighbors. Do
you live with someone?
Gods he was nosy. My Master is the biggest, baddest, meanest leather-daddy ever. Hes a God, too.
Love. Tough love.
If I thought that would cool Alberto down, I was wrong. His grin was downright sinful. Youre into
that? Me, too.
His Brazilian accent was too damn sexy. I imagined him twenty years older, a little taller, with his lean
frame filled out with hard muscles. Hed be a hot Daddy for some lucky boy. A little twinge of interest in
my groin was followed by a huge crush of guilt. How would Hector feel if he found out what I was
thinking? He was working so hard to overcome his jealousy issues, and there I was, daydreaming about
another guy.
Albertos gaze dropped, but it was a parody of submission. His impish grin lit up his face as he flirted
through his thick, black lashes. Youre going to have to tell me all about it. I like the porn with the
leather men.
It was either the heat under the tent, or the way he refused to lower his voice, but my face was deep red.
Later, I whispered. Not now.
Alberto flashed a big grin at me. Its a date then. Later. Ciao!
***
The only screenings scheduled that morning were smaller films that would probably never get distribution
in the US, even though some of them were sure to be nominated for the San Marco Award. Those were
the films I wanted to see because it was probably my only chance to view them. Before lunch, Id
already seen an Egyptian gem and a rough but fun Russian picture. Stuff like that recharged my love of
foreign films. I liked the different mind-set that reminded me that America wasnt the entire world. But,
most of all, the way directors cherished their stories enchanted me. They didnt need big explosions or
glib lines. The little truths they unveiled had much more of an impact without all that.
As I was coming out of the Russian film, Hector sent me a text message reminding me to eat lunch.
Between the press conferences, screenings, and crowds, there wasnt much time for a break, but I was
determined to prove to Hector that I could do my work and still serve him, so I went in search of food.
While I wolfed down a sandwich, I studied the festival program and tried to decide what to do next. The
films which were heavily favored to win the prestigious Leone dOro award took precedence, of course,
as did any movies starring actors or actresses likely to be awarded the Coppa Volpi, but I liked to keep
my options open in case I heard good buzz about something I might have otherwise overlooked.
Someone bumped my elbow. At first I didnt look up, because Id been jostled so much that morning
that it barely registered anymore, but when a shoulder rubbed against mine, it got my full attention. It was
Alberto again. Glad to see someone I sort of knew, I grinned at him.
Alberto! Hows your day going? I asked.
He rolled his eyes. Hot. We run here. We run there. Im taking the same pictures as everyone else. I
need an exclusive shot, something to make my name. Maybe I should take your picture. He raised a
camera to his eye.
I put my hand out to block his shot. No.
Albertos pout could have melted a glacier, but not me. Just one for my private collection? I do very
good work. Maybe sometime youd like to see my portfolio? I do male nudes. Very artistic. His grin left
no doubt how artistic those poses were. I bet you would photograph very well. Youre a natural, you
know. Ive been watching you. Even the way you eat is very suggestive. You have no idea how much I
envy that sandwich right now.
I set my lunch down. Im here to work. That means disappearing into the background while I observe.
Alberto shook his head. Fade into the background? Impossible. Youre too Whats the word I
want? The camera loves you. You couldnt take a bad picture if you tried. Seductive! Thats the word!
There was no reason for me to be rude to someone who seemed so eager to please, so I tried to think
of a nice way to change the subject. You know who I saw on the vaporetto ride over here this morning?
Josef Dudeka.
His nose scrunched up. Who?
How could anyone cover a film festival and not know that name? Hes a famous director.
Oh. What has he done lately?
Maybe Alberto was too young to know. Or maybe paparazzi worked by different rules than movie
critics, so I forgave him for his ignorance. Small films youve probably never heard of, but--
Alberto waved his hand. Not interested. No one wants pictures of a has-been movie director.
Hes not washed up. Hes a legend. I took another bite of my sandwich and washed it down with a
swig of orange Fanta. At least I got to tell him what I fan I am of his work, even though he threw my
business card away.
He didnt! Is he blind?
I shrugged. Maybe he thought I was a crazed stalker, or an actor trying to get into his next movie. Hes
famous; Im not. I didnt expect him to act like meeting me was the highlight of his month. He probably
has people coming up to him all the time wanting something from him.
Do you?
A guilty smile spread over my face. Well, yeah. Id love to talk to him about film. Just for an hour.
Completely off the record. It would be so cool. Sighing, I frowned. Not that it will ever happen.
You never know. If you were famous, too--
I shook my head. Not interested.
Alberto frowned. Inwardly, I cringed as I remembered that he was the God of Fame. I really needed to
think before I spoke. Alberto, though, didnt seem to take it to heart.
Want to see something funny? he asked.
I started to protest when he raised his camera to his eye again, but he spun around and clicked off a
series of shots. Suddenly, flashes went off everywhere.
Alberto lowered his camera and looked over his shoulder to show me his mischievous grin. No one
wants to miss a shot, so when they see flashes go off, they start shooting, too.
It was pretty funny. Still, I was wary of his camera, which pointed at me again.
He glanced over at the food stand. Is the food here good?
Not really, but its fast, and the line is short.
Hmmm. Alberto scanned the people walking by. All I need is one good shot of someone famous,
hopefully doing something they dont want anyone to see. He grinned and turned back to me. So.
Youre staying in Venice and not on Lido? Any particular reason?
Before I could answer, he interrupted me with another question. Hey -- you live in Los Angeles? Ill bet
you see famous people every day. He rested his chin on his hand. Its my dream to live in Hollywood.
His starry eyes reminded me of the way I used to daydream about LA. Its not like you imagine it to
be.
Most people couldnt even begin to comprehend the sprawl. Los Angeles was, to me, the worst
example of land management Id ever seen. If theyd only concentrated the population in high density
housing, like San Francisco and New York, built mass transit that actually worked, and left more open
space, it could have been paradise. Instead, they gave in to car culture. I doubted that the damage could
ever be reversed, which was a shame.
Do you Gods live in Beverly Hills? Do you all have mansions?
Poor Alberto. He didnt have a clue. Like I said, its nothing like you imagine. We live pretty
modestly.
Near the beach?
Yeah, were less than a quarter mile from the beach.
He was still starry-eyed. I live for the beach! I want to see Hollywood some day.
Well, youre a God. You can make things happen, you know.
I dont know. What I need is someone to teach me how to be a God. Someone strong. Someone with
experience and a firm hand. Alberto leaned over the table. A Master. He winked. Or a Mistress.
Fame, it seemed, was as fickle as legend had it.
***
Along with fifty other members of the press, I was herded into a stuffy little meeting room in the host
hotel for a press junket. There was no air, and if the interview hadnt been with Harris Smith, who was
heavily favored to win the Coppa Volpi for his latest role, I might have skipped it.
A cluster of microphones sat in the middle of a table at the far side of the room. Harris intense,
intelligent blue eyes stared out at us from a huge poster behind the table. He was the All-American boy
next door. He exuded cocky confidence that was sexy, but he pulled it off as a joke everyone was in on.
He was the kind of guy who seemed like hed be a hell of a lot of fun just to hang with. How much of that
was real and how much was careful work by his PR people, I had no idea, but something about his eyes
made me want to believe he was for real.
Press junkets were always a madhouse, but one that I enjoyed. This one was packed because Harris
Smith rarely gave interviews, plus he was a huge star. The hotel had put out neat rows of gold velvet
chairs for the press, but everyone ignored them and crowded close to the table. My adrenaline got
pumping and my competitive instincts took over. It was as if I was a different version of myself -- one
that didnt stutter and didnt suffer from terminal shyness. I got right in there and forced my way through
the crush to the front of the crowd.
Normally, we had to wait as long as an hour before the talent made a grand entrance, but right on time,
Harris Smith ambled in. Cameras clicked like crazy as he showed us his famous, dimpled grin.
Across the room, I watched Alberto work. He was right. Hed have the exact same picture as twenty
other photographers. But Id have the exact same questions and answers from Harris as the other
journalists at the junket, and Id still manage to write a blog entry that made it sound fresh. Nobody ever
said our job was easy.
Harris sat at the head table and leaned close to the bank of microphones. A sensual smile spread over
his lips. He had just enough of a gritty edge to make one wonder what kind of neighborhood produced a
boy next door like him.
Is it true youre gay? an English journalist shouted over the other loud voices.
Harris assistant winced, but Harris, oh, what a pro he was. He grinned and wriggled his eyebrows.
Another barrage of flashes went off.
I always got a gay vibe off Harris, but I wasnt interested enough in the sex lives of stars to spy on them.
If hed been a homophobic preacher or virulently anti-gay senator caught blowing guys in the bushes,
then I would have been all for outing his hypocritical ass. But Harris was known as a gay friendly guy, so
what did it matter if he was? Oh, sure, he had a reputation as a heartbreaker and always had a different
actress on his arm, but if it was just an act, who cared?
Supermodel Anna Kuvolowski, your ex-girlfriend, said in an interview that youre gay, someone in the
back of the mob shouted.
Anna and I broke up? Someone should have told me. Wheres my publicist? Harris hammed it up,
glancing wildly around the room. Someone is supposed to keep track of these things for me.
A few people laughed.
The English journalist asked, Is it true? Anna says she dumped you when she caught you with a man.
That remark broke through Harris armor. He quickly recovered, but his aura didnt. The other
journalists seemed to sense blood. They inched closer to the table and shouted more questions about his
personal life. Though he kept smiling, I could see panic spreading through Harris aura.
Come on, guys. I just found out I broke up with a supermodel. Give me a moment. Harris clowned his
way through a moment of dramatic grief.
So she didnt catch you in bed with a man?
I never understood why, but the English seemed to love to tear people down for daring to be successful.
That kind of slimy journalism pissed me off, so I used a little God power to make my voice heard over
his. Mister Smith! This movie is a bit of a departure from the characters you usually play. Did you find
that change difficult?
Those blue eyes sought me out in the crowd. I pushed some of my power toward Harris, like draping
him in a protective cloak. His eyes widened only slightly, but I knew he felt it. I nodded, encouraging him
to take the chance to change the subject.
Once again, he was all easy-going charm. Yes, this picture was a departure for me, but change is good.
It was very interesting to see how they created the ancient world. He leaned closer to the microphones
as if letting us all in on a secret. If you ever need to lose twenty pounds in a week, put on a suit of armor
and go film battle scenes out in the Australian desert.
Is that where Anna caught you with your gay lover? the English guy asked.
Oh good Gods! Couldnt they let Harris be? Did they think they could bully him out of the closet? I was
all for being out, but that was a personal decision. I hoped he didnt cave in to the pressure.
Shoving forward again, I asked, I heard you had to take martial arts classes in preparation for this
movie. Even though I didnt shout, I made sure my voice was heard above the rest.
Harris didnt turn to me that time, but his assistant watched me and jotted notes in a little flip pad. We
trained with a martial arts expert for several months before we began shooting. It was probably the
hardest work Ive ever done before a picture, physically at least. Those swords weigh a ton.
The last ten minutes of his press conference felt as if they lasted hours. I was amped up on adrenaline
with no outlet for it. People shoved and shouted. It was hard to resist shoving back.
Poor Harris smiled through the rest of the interrogation as if the constant questions about his sexuality
didnt bother him. Part of him withdrew, though, and I didnt blame him one bit. I wondered if the other
journalists could tell that he was acting. They couldnt see the damage to his aura the way I could, but if
they had, they probably would have been even more ruthless.
When it was over, I sighed in relief for him. As he left the room, Alberto sprinted after him. I sent a burst
of power to slam shut the door immediately behind Harris and bolt it. Alberto tugged on the handle. The
other paparazzi shoved him out of the way and tried to pry it open. Alberto glanced over at me. Then he
looked at the door with a bemused smile on his lips. He inclined his head. I gave him a curt nod and
headed out the French doors leading to the hotel gardens.
***
By the time I staggered into our room at the hotel that evening, all I could do was leave a trail of
discarded clothes behind me as I headed for the shower. Hector reclined on the bed and watched me
with raised eyebrows. Fine. He could punish me. But first I had to rinse off the sweat under a steady
stream of cold water.
Twenty minutes later, when I dragged myself back into our room, he was still on the bed, but my clothes
had been picked up. Thanks, Sir, I mumbled. I put my laptop on the small table and collapsed into a
chair.
Hector walked over and kissed the top of my head. Rough day, Baby?
I could only nod.
He didnt interrupt me while I wearily made my blog entry. It was hard to pick out the important stuff to
talk about. I was a film critic, not a reporter. I figured that people wanted gossip, so I mentioned the stars
Id seen and the press conferences Id been to. Walking the fine line between popular culture and the
artistic snobbery of my editor wasnt easy.
After I posted my entry, I crawled onto the bed beside Hector and rested my head on his bare chest.
Tell you what. Well skip the plans I had for us tonight. Well just stay here and cuddle. How does that
sound? Hector asked.
Like youre a genius. Find me a drink with ice cubes in it and Im your bitch. I flung the white towel
Id wrapped around my waist to the floor.
Hector chuckled. I always knew you were easy, Boy, but I didnt know you could be had for ice
cubes. A tall glass of lemonade appeared in his hand. Huge chucks of ice and slices of lemons floated in
the liquid. Condensation slid down the glass and over his hand. You know, you could have summoned
this for yourself.
I gulped down the cold drink. When it was empty, I rubbed the glass across my chest. It seems so
wasteful to use power for something like that.
But its not wasteful when I do it? he asked.
Grinning, I set the empty glass on the nightstand. No. Youre getting something in exchange for it.
I have you anyway, Hector protested.
I know. Thats the beauty of it from my standpoint. As I put my mouth over his nipple, Hector sucked
in a breath. I blew on his nipple until it was a hard, brown pucker hiding under the fur on his chest. What
did you do all day, Sir?
I went on a tour of the Doges Palace, crossed the Bridge of Sighs, and saw the old prison. Other than
that, I just walked around the city and got my bearings. I found some places Id like to take you.
Mmm. I can think of some places Id like to be taken. I crawled across his body and sucked on his
other nipple.
Slut.
Thats Mr. Bitch to you, Sir.
Hector slapped my ass. You must be feeling better, because youre getting sassy. Maybe you need a
little attitude correction.
Maybe I do. Im exhausted, but Im amped up, too. I cant believe the people I met today. You would
have been proud of me. I talked to complete strangers and only stuttered a little.
Good boy. He mussed my hair.
My hand trailed down Hectors stomach and stopped at his groin. I wasnt exactly in the mood for sex,
but I didnt mind fooling around a little. As my hand slid under the waistband of his boxers, someone
knocked on the hotel room door. Since I was naked, Hector zipped up his pants and went to answer it.
Im looking for Mr. Samuel Dewey. I was told to deliver something to him, a male voice said. The
accent was American
Sams busy, Hector told him. I can take it.
The guy made a fussy queen noise. Its not a thing. Its a message.
If Id talked to Hector like that, Id be in for serious punishment. Hector seemed to be considering
putting the haughty little messenger over his knee.
I yanked on a pair of jeans and padded over to the door. Im Sam Dewey.
The boy at the door would have been cute without the annoying sneer. Only people who made minimum
wage in Hollywood could wear that brand of nasty and think they fooled anyone. Still, he took his time
ogling my bare chest before he said, Youre invited to a private party at Club Masque tonight.
Im sorry. Who are you? Should I know whos throwing this party?
For a moment, I thought the little queen was going to choke on indignation. Hector and I exchanged a
glance. From the tremble of Hectors lips, I knew he was close to laughing in the guys face. I had to
look away to stop from cracking up myself.
He rolled his eyes and pointed to the logo on his shirt. Outback Films. He gave Hector a nasty look.
No guests.
While I would have slammed the door in his face, Hector gently closed it after the queen sashayed down
the hallway.
Whats Outback Films? Hector asked.
They produced Harris Smiths latest picture. He had a rough press conference today. I tried to keep
the focus on his film and not his personal life. I think the invitation is their way of saying thanks.
Baby, it looks like youre going out tonight after all.
I couldnt believe hed do that to me. But, Sir--
Hector raised a finger. Not a word. This is for your work. I know that youre tired, and I know we had
plans tonight, but Im not going to allow you to plead slave duties to get out of this. Go be charming. He
stood back, squinted, and looked me over before consulting his watch. Its too late here, of course.
Thank goodness we can phase into a different time zone. I think New York will do.
My eyes narrowed. I had a bad feeling about the way his face lit up. For what, Sir?
To go shopping, of course. You dont think Ill let you go to that party wearing just anything, do you?
Tonight, you have to look--
I winced, waiting for the dreaded word.
Hector winked at me as he mimicked the queens voice perfectly, Fabulous.
***
Except for the light at the far end, the street was quiet and dark. Since the Venice streets changed name
at every intersection, I knew that the club had to be in that short block, but the exact location was a
mystery because I couldnt see an address anywhere. Except for the metal shutters pulled over a
doorway and the dusty windows of a store that must have gone out of business two years ago, the rest of
the street was fronted by blank walls. Suspecting that the invitation was a hoax, I was about to give up
and return to the hotel when I saw a familiar figure turn the corner.
Alberto! Am I ever glad to see you. Im trying to find Club Masque. Do you know where it is?
Of course.
You didnt hide the sign again, did you?
He clutched his chest in an exaggerated show of innocence. No. There isnt one. They expect that
anyone who is anyone simply knows where to go.
Well, Im not anyone, so I dont know where it is. I frowned at the blank, brown stucco walls around
me.
Id hardly call you a no one. You got an invitation, didnt you? Alberto gripped the extended lens of
the camera that hung around his neck. Would you like for me to show you?
Im not even sure I want to go, I grumbled.
Everyone wants into these parties. Most couldnt get an invitation in their wildest dreams. He ran his
fingers down my chest. But I bet you have some pretty wild dreams.
Smiling, so he wouldnt think I was angry, I gripped his hand and moved it away. Dont touch me
without permission.
Instead of being abashed, Alberto lowered his gaze and smiled. But its such a great shirt! You must
have a friend at a design house. Albertos flirtatious manner sent mixed signals rushing through my brain.
The way he gazed up at me made me stand straighter and grin down at him like a tolerant big brother. I
wasnt sure if I hated that or if I was flattered. It was unfamiliar territory for me. Hector would probably
laugh with me when I told him that some twenty-year old made me feel like a junior Daddy. I wondered
what my therapist would think. Do you forgive me? he asked.
For some reason, instead of simply saying yes, I gruffly told him, Maybe, but only if you show me
where this damn club is.
Albertos grin widened. Yes, Sir! Follow me.
Oh man, did I ever feel stupid. Id been standing only ten feet from the entrance of the club that entire
time. In my defense, it wasnt a traditional doorway. Instead, Alberto opened a narrow, wrought-iron
gate. He tapped on the small brass sign on the gate as we passed through it. How the hell was I
supposed to be able to read that in the dark?
Beyond the gate was a narrow pathway between buildings. Overgrown plants crowded the stepping
stones and shaded the dim lighting. If the path had been much longer it would have made me
claustrophobic. Thankfully, as soon as we passed the plants, we entered a small courtyard. It, too, was
dark -- so dark that I didnt see the bouncer standing near a door until the man moved.
Name! the bouncer said.
Hes Sam Dewey, Alberto said.
The bouncer tapped a finger behind his ear and mumbled my name. I supposed that clipboards were too
pass for him. He wore sunglasses. It was the middle of the night. I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
Youre not on the guest list. The bouncer widened his stance and folded his hands over his steroid
paunch as if preparing for trouble.
Alberto rubbed his shoulder against mine. He got a last minute invite. Check again.
The bouncer looked at me, or at least I assumed he did. Surprise transformed his face. Mr. Dewey!
Im so sorry, sir. I didnt recognize you. Please come in.
See what a little fame can do for you? Alberto asked me.
I hate playing these little games, I grumbled, as the bouncer held the door open for me.
Alberto gazed up at me. Youre so butch when you talk like that. What games do you like to play?
It took every ounce of strength I had not to burst out laughing. Silly boy. He should have known better
than to try to flirt with the God of Sex. After all, I wrote the book on manipulation -- or at least Hector
claimed I did.
I only play with Hector.
He sighed dramatically. Story of my life. All the good ones are taken.
Very taken.
His grin turned impish. Things can change.
Not if I had anything to say about it.
We headed into the door, but the bouncer grabbed Alberto. Sorry. Mr. Dewey might be on the guest
list, but you arent.
But but but. Albertos bottom lip trembled as he turned his puppy-dog eyes on me.
I took pity on him and leaned close. Dont be silly. Just phase inside.
The bouncer was getting impatient with me, so I went through the door he held open.
In the sky blue foyer, two women sat on the bottom step of a staircase, speaking languidly in
monosyllabic Venetian. One of the women leaned toward the wall to make a little room for me to pass,
but the other one stared into her drink. Maybe they worked there. The small coat check station was
deserted.
At the top of the stairs, the room was much wider, as if the club only had half the bottom floor, but much
more of the upper ones. The white room was a lounge with square ottomans in white leather and mod,
sixties-style lamps and black pop art on the walls. Beyond that was an orange room with a dance floor.
The DJ spun house music. No one danced.
Maybe it was my imagination, but every person I passed seemed to be appraising my rank. Was I
important? Was I worth noting? For once, I was so very glad that Hector made sure I dressed right. Still,
the scrutiny made my skin crawl, so I went up the next flight of stairs to the top floor.
Harris Smith stood by the bar in a violet room. He was surrounded by models and actors. There was s
secondary circle of film folk hovering near the models, and beyond that, the professional hangers on. The
queen whod delivered my invitation was there. He looked right through me.
Id always wished for invisibility. I wouldnt have minded it if the way the other guests ignored me hadnt
been so studied. They watched me, but turned away if I met their gazes. I think I finally understood what
snubbing felt like. Or maybe it was shunning. Whatever it was, those people had the art of making me
know I was being ignored down to a science.
Well, Id been to the party. Hector couldnt fault me for not going. I looked at my watch Id been gone
from the hotel about an hour. That had to be good enough. All I had to do was find a place private
enough to phase away.
Past the bar was a small balcony that was painted as dark as the night sky. A lone red spotlight shone
down on me. Despite the stifling air in the club, no one stood out there. I breathed in the fresh air and
took in the view.
A hand touched my back. Hiding? Alberto asked.
I see you made it in, I said. I turned around to look back into the party.
His mega-watt smile beamed at me. You see why I need you to help me? I would have never thought
of this on my own.
Across the room, Harris whispered and smirked while he stroked the arm of the actress beside him.
When the model on the other side got huffy, he nuzzled her neck. Our eyes met. He moved through the
throng and said a quick hello before returning to his circle of admirers.
The wall of silence around me was broken. People cautiously made their way over for small talk. I guess
if Harris Smith thought I was worthy of attention, so did they. One of the models on the outside of the
circle tried to attach herself to my arm. I tried to think of a polite way to tell her I was of no personal or
professional use to her.
Alberto lifted his camera to his eye and took a shot of Harris Smiths hand sliding up the thigh of a regal
brunette. Maybe it was just me, but I could have sworn Harris staged it for Alberto. He certainly held the
pose long enough.
***
By the last day of the film festival, I sincerely hoped I never heard the words media junket, actor,
director, movie, or press conference again as long as I lived. As a favor to George, instead of going to
see a film that had great buzz, I suffered through a painfully bad comedy. I also agreed to interview the
star, who turned out to be a snotty little shit with a drug problem, something his management told me I
better not mention if I ever wanted to work again. I was already in a crappy mood, and that crass display
of power only made it worse. It was as if someone had taken the things I hated the most about
Hollywood, boiled them down to an intense concentrate, and spread it in a thick layer over my afternoon.
My mood wasnt much better when I got back to Venice. On my way back to the hotel, I plodded past
perky tourists dragging suitcases up and down the little bridges that connected the tiny islands. Confused
by the streets that could end abruptly at a canal, they milled about, blocking my path. It took every ounce
of manners not to snap at them.
I was in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and I couldnt even be bothered to appreciate it as
I followed my now-familiar path from the vaporetto dock to our hotel. If normal people could have seen
my aura, Im sure it would have looked like a little black rain cloud hanging over my head.
I figured that after I got back to the hotel, Id do a little obligatory sight-seeing with Hector, a quiet
dinner, some quick sex, and then the sweet oblivion of sleep. Fuck. Id forgotten my blog entry. Okay.
Blog entry, sight-seeing, food, sex, sleep. Hell, the way I felt, I was willing to give up sight-seeing, food,
and sex if I could just get into bed. Hector would be pissed off if I didnt spend some time with him,
though. Every night, just as wed be ready to go to dinner, Id get an invitation to an exclusive party.
Hed sigh and tell me to go, but I could tell he was getting frustrated. I was, too. For the life of me, I
couldnt figure out why suddenly I was so popular. Maybe it was because people recognized that Park
Avenue Magazine had a lot of clout. That had to be it. Either that, or people saw that others invited me to
parties and pack mentality took over. Overnight, Id gone from D list to B, and was well on my way to
A. Too bad that didnt mean a whole lot to me.
***
Thank the Gods the festival is over, I told Hector as I collapsed on our narrow hotel bed and sank
down into the soft mattress.
Hector chuckled. The ancient bed frame creaked under his weight as he crawled in beside me. Poor
Baby. Its hard work being glamorous.
It is! I know youre laughing at me, Sir, but Gods! The screenings, the interviews, the parties, it never
fucking ends.
Hector rolled me on my side and smacked my butt. Thats for the gutter mouth. And it does end, Baby.
Its all over now. His big hand rested between my pecs. Now its just the two of us.
Can I show my collar now?
Moonlight. A little restaurant overlooking the canals. Some wine Hector said as he caressed me.
Mmm-- Shit! My phone. Sorry, Sir. I dug into my pocket for my cell phone. The number meant
nothing to me. Frowning, I flipped it open. Hello?
A young male voice asked, Is this Sam Dewey?
Sure. Even though Hectors hand was slowly moving down my stomach, I squinted and tried to
concentrate on the voice.
Thank goodness! Listen, Im Joseph Dudekas personal assistant, and hes going to kill me. I was
supposed to invite you to a dinner party on his yacht tonight, but I couldnt find your number until now.
Gee. If Joseph hadnt thrown my business card in the trash, it probably would have been easier to find
me.
Who is it? Hector whispered. His evening beard was raspy against my cheek.
I put my hand over the phone. Someone inviting me to a party.
Another one? Hector frowned.
The voice in my other ear rattled off instructions on how to get to the yacht.
Hector nuzzled against my neck and pressed his lips above my slave collar. The heat of his breath made
me shiver even though it was a hot day. The hotel room wasnt air conditioned, unless you counted
opening up the windows that overlooked the canal and hoping a breeze would find its way through the
labyrinth of Venetian streets to the window as air conditioning. Normally I wouldnt have minded, but the
past couple days Id spent a lot of time standing out in the Italian summer sun, under stuffy media tents,
or inside crowded screening rooms.
While the kisses on my neck grew longer, Hectors hand finally finished the long trip from my chest
down to my groin. He roughly groped me through my pants. His teeth sank into my skin. He straddled
my thigh and ground against it as his breath grew ragged.
I slid away from Hector and sat up. Dinner with Joseph Dudeka. When would I ever get another
chance? It was my fanboy dream come true. A second wind of energy shot through me. Holy Hannah.
Dinner with my idol. Maybe being a minor celebrity wasnt such a chore after all.
The guy on the phone was still yapping. Sam, are you there? Anyway, I hate to ask, but can you make
it tonight? And please, dont tell Joseph that I called you at the last second like this, because itll mean my
job. Okay?
Hector looked pretty angry.
Um, Ill get back to you. I hung up.
Who was that?
Sir, I know I havent been around to serve you, but please, this is important. Joseph Dudeka asked me
to dinner on his yacht. You know what a fan I am of his work.
Hector got off the bed. He walked to the bathroom door, turned, and stomped back to me. Dark aura
gathered around him. Are you a fan of his work, or does he turn you on?
What?
Dinner alone on his yacht? Come on, Sam. You werent born yesterday. Hes making a move on you. I
never figured you for the type to be seduced by money. Guess I learn something new every day.
That just hurt. The invitation was to a party, not dinner alone with him. If you dont trust me, why dont
come along, Sir?
I had plans for us, Boy. Youve been ignoring me all week. This is our last night here.
You made me go to those parties! I begged you to let me stay with you, but you ordered me to go.
What am I supposed to do, Hector? Maybe Im too stupid to get it. So you tell this idiot how he can
make you happy, and hell do it. Spell it out for me. Talk slow and use small words. Draw me pictures.
Anything! But dont blame me for obeying you. It isnt fair.
His nostrils flared as he drew in deep breaths. He slowly released his fists.
I pulled a pillow into my lap.
Hector ambled over to the window. He rubbed his scalp. Youre not stupid, Sam. You know I dont
like it when you talk about yourself like that, he said softly.
I hugged the pillow to my chest and rocked. Fatigue settled back down over me, and the pit of my
stomach felt hollow.
Do you really want to go to this dinner? Be honest, Sam.
The temptation to say yes was as strong as the urge to say no. I got off the bed and went to him. I rested
my forehead against his back and hugged him.
We can always come back to Venice when you arent working, Hector said.
Can we stay another day? It would be just the two of us, I promise.
I have to get back to work, Sam. You know that. He patted my hand. Call him back and tell him that
youll be there.
Is that an order, Sir?
Hectors shoulders slumped. Thats an order, Boy.
***
Except Joseph Dudekas personal assistant, I was easily thirty years younger than the rest of the dinner
guests on the yacht. My invitation had to have been a mistake, because they were the elite of European
film. Josephs wife, a stout, Slavic woman who giggled a lot, kept trying to drag me into the conversation.
After a while, though, she and the assistant talked about personal things, so I just sat there and absorbed
what the rest of the guests were talking about. I wasnt bored, though.
After dinner, the men went to the deck and hauled out cigars. I tagged along.
Joseph sat next to me and patted my knee. Youre very quiet for an American.
I like to think about things for a while before I talk about them.
Hes like the old-fashioned cowboys, a writer from Prague said. The man had chain smoked through
dinner and was already opening another pack. Why is it that in the westerns, cowboys are men of such
few words?
I shrugged. Maybe to keep from getting trail dust into their mouths.
I didnt think I was all that witty, but they laughed. Maybe they were indulging me.
Tell me, Mr. Dewey, what led you to film critique? Were you a film student? An actor?
Id never get in front of a camera. As school projects, I made five short films, and I enjoyed the work,
but as you gentlemen are all aware, film is a collaborative art. You have to be able to communicate your
vision to the actors and crew, and you have to listen to their input. My problem was being too shy to tell
them my vision. The films we made were okay, but I regretted each one, because they never felt as if
they were mine.
Chuckles of regret rose with the wispy plumes of cigar smoke.
Ah, Mr. Dewey, I feel that way about every one of my films, Joseph said.
The man from Prague nodded. I cant watch any film of my scripts, because I wince through it.
Its always I should have done this in this scene, or why did I insist on such a cumbersome line of
dialog? another man said.
Joseph leaned forward as he spoke quietly of his disappointments with the film that had made me such a
fan of his work. As he spoke, the other men nodded and sighed wistfully.
It couldnt be. Okay, so maybe you were disappointed by that one little thing in that scene, but the
following scene, in the kitchen, that was brilliance! Not a word, but the tension is so tight that I squirm
every time I watch it.
Joseph pushed his silver hair away from his forehead. I just turned on the camera and watched her act.
Two words from me: action, and cut. I felt like a fraud even asking for another take. It was all there the
first time.
But you understood that. Not everyone would, I told him.
They put up with my obvious hero-worship with good humor, perhaps because I knew most of their
work, or maybe because they sensed that I was sincere. It was like being in a master class where I was
the only student. It was hard to point to any single revelation I had during that long discussion, but I felt as
if Id learned more about the making of a movie than Id ever known before.
Joseph clasped my shoulder as I said my goodbyes. Keep in touch. Ill have my assistant send you my
private email.
I would like that very much. Thank you for a wonderful evening.
Maybe weve convinced you to try your hand at another film?
I bowed my head. If anything, Im more intimidated than I was before.
The men laughed, but not unkindly.
Maybe it will be a great film that inspires you. Or a horrible one, the writer from Prague said, but
anyone with your passion for this art form will, eventually, yield to the temptation.
I smiled and shrugged, because I didnt want to be rude and tell him he was wrong.
As I walked back to the hotel, though, my feet barely touched the ground, and the insane little idea that I
might, one day, try my hand at making another film would not go away.
I was still floating when I climbed into bed with Hector. I thought he was asleep, so I tried to snuggle.
He rolled to his side, facing away from me. Thats when I came back down to earth with a solid thud.
Chapter 4
The Sunday following our return from Venice, I rode my motorcycle to the park for my weekly
basketball game. Joey and I sat on the benches outside the court while another group finished their game.
It was Labor Day weekend, so even though it was early, the park was already crowded. The scent of
lighter fluid hung thick in the air. People staked out claims to picnic tables by taping clusters of balloons to
the ends. Others set up shade tents and lawn chairs on the parched grass.
Wheres Brett? I asked.
Joey took a swig of water from a bottle. Hes unpacking.
He already bought his place? Since when? I felt as if Id missed out on something important. Sure,
Brett had been talking about buying a condo for months, but I hadnt realized hed done it.
Escrow closed last week. He claims its a smart financial move, but Id hate to be buying in this
market.
Does he need help moving?
We moved him while you were in Venice. So, how was the festival? See a lot of stars?
Sure. Most of them are really short in person. And theyre so skinny that their heads look too big for
their bodies. Its kind of weird, actually. Not terribly attractive. They look much better on the screen.
The guys on the court moved over to the metal bleachers, so we went through the chain link fence to the
court.
Are we playing one on one today? I asked. Or are we going to try to get a pick-up game going?
Joey craned around. Actually, I invited someone to join us. I met this totally hot Brazilian when I was
out dancing Thursday night. He was kind of aggressive, which usually turns me off. I mean, one minute
were dancing, the next hes grilling me about my work and friends, but damn, he was cute. I hope you
dont mind.
A premonition crackled down my spine.
Hes a photographer. Just moved here.
What were the odds? No. There was no way that out of the millions of people in Los Angeles, Alberto
hooked up with Joey. Alberto talked about moving to LA every time we met in Venice, but that was just
talk, wasnt it?
And there he is! Alberto! Joey called out.
Alberto crossed the grass. His tight, yellow t-shirt hugged every muscle down his torso. Man, he had
nice arms. Joey and I wore baggy basketball shorts, but Alberto wore the kind of tight cut-offs I used to
run around in. No wonder Hector threw out all my old clothes. They made Alberto look like a sleazy
slut. Not that I was complaining. It was nice to look at, especially the way it shoved his package front
and center.
Alberto jogged over to us. Oh, be still my heart. From the bounce in his briefs, I guessed that the boy
was going commando.
Alberto, this is Sam, Brett said.
Weve met, I said.
Yes! In Venice. And now I live next door to you. Isnt that amazing?
Like a miracle, I said. Joey shot a look at me. Maybe I sounded as pissy as I felt. Next door? You
mean that you moved here to Long Beach. At least I desperately hoped thats what he meant.
No. Next door to you, in the vacant house. Were neighbors!
My guts clenched. Couldnt he feel the bad karma that clung to that place? How could he stand to go
inside it? How nice, I said.
A couple other guys got off the bleachers and asked us if we minded if they played, so we ended up
with a three on three game going. Alberto sucked at basketball, but he looked so damn good doing it that
no one complained.
I look forward to spending more time with you, neighbor, Alberto said.
Was his Brazilian accent naturally sexy, or did he pour it on for my benefit?
Joey snorted. Story of my life. Sam walks into the room, and I turn invisible. He passed the ball to
Alberto, who tossed it over the backstop.
A guy on the other team passed the ball in. The tall guy dribbled down the court. I took off after him.
One thing about sprouting up, Id become a real threat on the court. When I covered a guy, he couldnt
simply shoot over my head anymore.
The guy I was covering grunted. I glanced back at him. He wasnt looking at the ball. My t-shirt rode up
to expose my stomach, and my shorts sunk to inches above my cock. No doubt my ass cheeks were
exposed, too. The guys tongue hung out of his mouth. Whether I meant to or not, I always ended up
looking like porn on the hoof.
Joey snatched the ball away and dribbled down the court with the other guys in pursuit. I ran after them,
caught the pass from Joey, jumped, and easily sent the ball into the hoop. We high-fived and got back in
position. Alberto stole the ball from one of their guys.
Alberto! I called out.
He tossed a pass that I had to chase down.
Im fitting in here very quickly, dont you think? Alberto asked in a stage whisper as he hovered near
me. Joey already likes me.
Yes. Its amazing how you happened to latch onto my best friend.
He looked at me as if I were stupid. Of course it wasnt an accident. You told me to use my God
magic to make things happen, so I did. You arent mad, are you? Joey has a little crush on me, I think. I
hope you arent jealous.
Joey can do what he wants. Hes a big boy.
Alberto rubbed his ass against my groin. Youre bigger.
I shoved him away. Knock it off. I told you before, Alberto, dont ever fucking touch me without
permission. Only Hector has the right to do that.
He tried the innocent look on me. I was just playing the game.
You dont guard your own man in basketball, I snapped.
I wasnt talking about basketball.
Chapter 5
Hector was lucky. He had to travel upstate to make sales calls while I was left alone to deal with the
heat and tempers brought on by a lingering heat wave. From the lady in line behind me at the market to
the guy who sold me my new motorcycle boots, everyone was on edge, as if the heat got under their
skins and grated every nerve.
I was a little put out myself. Hector wouldnt tell me when he expected to be back in town. Brett said
that was because Hector wanted to try to catch me doing something wrong so that he could beat me. I
tried to explain that sometimes Hectors clients expected him to take them out on the town and that
messed up his schedule, but Brett said I was making excuses again. The truth was that I didnt have
anything to worry about if Hector did pop in unexpectedly. The only thing I cared about was that the
Toronto Film Festival started in two days, and Id hoped to see him before I left.
As soon as I got home from the market, I dragged out the garden hose and sprayed down my herb
garden. Hector would never remember to do that while I was away. My next backyard project was
going to be to install a sprinkler system. Maybe Id plant another hedge near the garage. Alberto had cut
down the tall evergreens that separated our properties, and I hated the sudden lack of privacy. Funny. I
didnt mind Angelena being able to see our entire yard from her back porch.
The cool water from the hose splashed against my bare legs. It felt great. Then I got brilliant and
summoned a small wading pool. Id just settled into a lawn chair with my feet in the water when Angelena
pulled up next door on her motorcycle, still in her cop uniform. Her concrete gray eyes had a hard set to
them, as if she were looking for a fight. I knew exactly how she felt.
Hey, Goddess! Come splash in the pool with me! I called out.
A slow smile spread across her face. Now, that is a brilliant idea, Sweet-Tart. Let me get out of this
uniform, and Ill be right back.
In minutes, Angelenas screen door slammed, and she came bounding down the stairs of her back
porch. Shed changed into shorts and a loose tank top. Deal was with her.
Deal sat in the lawn chair Angelena pulled over to the pool for her. She glanced up at the sun and waved
her hand. A shade canopy appeared over us. I dont do sun, she said. Her milky white skin proved
that.
For you. Angelena handed me an orange Popsicle. I gave her my chair and sat in the water. She
peeled the paper off a grape Popsicle after she sank her feet into the pool. Just what the doctor
ordered, she sighed. Speaking of which, how is the therapy going?
I didnt mind her asking. I havent had any problems with depression, but thats always gone in waves
anyway. I guess we wont know for sure for a while. My therapist made me try an antidepressant when I
first went to him, but I didnt like the side effects. It made me put on weight. I frowned at my stomach.
Oh stop it! I hate it when someone with a perfect body complains. Must be hell dragging around that
six-pack all day. Angelena kicked water at me.
I used to have a twenty-inch waist.
Deal made a face, You used to be a train wreck, too, but I dont hear you wishing for that again.
Besides, Ive seen the way Hector looks at you now. He watches you like a wolf eyeing a juicy steak.
He didnt used to do that.
I didnt do what? Hector asked.
Papi! You got home early! I bounded across the patios hot bricks to the back porch. Hectors arms
were already spread wide for me. I nuzzled into his neck and breathed in the scent of him while he
wrapped those big arms around me and held me tight. My soul drank in his presence as if it were
parched. I missed you, I said.
Missed you, too, Baby. Were you a good boy while I was gone?
Yes, Sir.
His hand slid down to my ass. Did you go to your therapy appointment yesterday?
I nodded.
Good Boy, he mumbled against my lips. We lightly teased our mouths together. He bit down on my
bottom lip and sucked it.
Do I have to turn the hose on you two? Angelena asked.
Deal added, I swear you act as if youve been apart three months, not three days.
Jealous? I asked.
If I wanted someone to wag his tail every time I got home, Id get a puppy, Deal said. She pushed her
skirt up as high as modesty allowed, cupped water in her hand, and dribbled it over her thin thighs.
Hector gave my ass a long, hard goose before releasing me. I think I may join you out in the pool.
Need help changing into your swim trunks, Sir?
For a second he seemed to consider it, but then shook his head. If we go into the bedroom, Ill
probably show you the toy I bought for you, and if we break that out, itll be hours before we leave the
bedroom.
My bottom lip puffed out.
Hector linked his finger into my slave collar and yanked me close. You know how I feel about boys
who pout.
A slow grin spread over my face. I lowered my gaze and then looked up at him through my thick
eyelashes. You always say they should be spanked, Sir. I hoped the new toy he got for me was a
paddle, because it had been weeks since hed really worked me over.
My mind was already off in the dungeon when Hector put his hands on my shoulders and forced me to
turn around. Go be a good host. Before he let go, he pressed his lips to the nape of my neck and
whispered, Play time later, little Boy.
***
In the wading pool, I sat between Hectors thighs with my back against his chest. Our Popsicles had
been replaced by frosty beers.
Deal ran her fingers through her wavy, blonde hair. Only she could wear Versace while sitting in a lawn
chair next to a cheap, plastic wading pool and seem perfectly comfortable. A pair of Prada pumps
dangled from her hand as she flexed her long, thin feet in the water. Her toenails, as usual, were painted
frosted cotton candy pink to match her fingernails. She sighed. This is heaven.
Humans would be really disappointed if they knew what the Gods considered to be heavenly,
Angelena said. Honestly, I see you as much more of a poolside bar at the Beverly Hotel type.
Hmm. Yes. Well, they do frown so if you actually touch the water. Besides, everyone who is anyone is
out of town cruising the Dalmatian coast on their yachts or saving the Indonesian rain forest from Kabala
orphans or something. Deal turned to me. So, Sam, I havent seen you since you got back from
Venice. How was it?
I snuggled closer to Hectors chest. Unfortunately, I never got to enjoy the city with Hector. But I
assume youre asking about the film festival. It was interesting. Definitely your kind of event. You know
what happens when you get industry folk together. The networking was intense, like Hollywood, only
compacted into a couple days and a few acres.
She nodded. Any good parties? I assume thats where all the action was.
Hector huffed. Sam went to parties every night.
Good! Did you make any important contacts, or did you run around with your little reporter friends?
That was still a sore point with Hector, so I watched my hands bob on the surface of the water and
pretended I didnt hear her question.
Hey! Is this a party? Can I come over? Alberto already had wandered into our back yard, so it was a
little late to say no. Gods? Are you all Gods? He stared at Deal.
Being polite, I made introductions. Everyone, this is Alberto Renaldo, the God of Fame. Hes a newbie
God. We met in Venice. Alberto, this is Hector. You may have seen him in Venice? I cant remember if I
introduced you two or not. That trip is still a blur. This is Angelena, Goddess of Traffic. And thats Deal,
the Goddess of Negotiation.
Ah! Sams agent. He spoke of you in Venice, Alberto told Deal.
I cringed.
Did he? Deal drawled.
He never said how beautiful you are.
Oh good Gods, Alberto was laying it on thick. Even his accent was a bit over the top.
Id join you, but I seem to have no suit. Alberto grinned.
Charms tinkled as Deal waved her hand. Its a clothing optional pool.
In that case-- Alberto stripped and slid into the water.
The kiddie pool was barely big enough for him, Hector, and me.
Alberto turned his back to me and gazed up at Deal. Ive never met a Goddess before, but youre
exactly what Id imagine a Goddess should look like.
Angelena snorted. So did Hector. I was too relieved to make fun of Alberto. For once, he wasnt flirting
with me. Deal regarded his adoring eyes for a moment, then turned to Angelena and ignored him.
***
Sunset that night was like an early Technicolor movie, supersaturated in neon orange and pink. It was
still unbearably hot when Deal, Alberto, and Angelena left. Until the Santa Ana winds died down, though,
we wouldnt get our usual evening breeze off the ocean to cool things down.
I stifled a yawn as I gathered the empty beer bottles around the wading pool.
Tired, Baby? Hector asked.
Grinning, I shook my head. I didnt forget that you brought me a new toy. Thats about all I could think
about tonight.
Could have fooled me. You werent humping against my thigh like usual.
Im working on subtlety. Playing hard to get.
You always lose that game, Hector reminded me as we went into the house.
I dumped the trash in the garbage can in the kitchen. Somehow, I dont consider it losing when I get
wild monkey sex out of it.
We locked up and then walked through the darkened living room together, arms around each others
waists. When we were near the couch, Hector said, Speaking of wild monkey sex-- He shoved me
down and crawled over me as he made low, growling noises. His cock poked through the slick fabric of
his swim trunks.
More like a bear. I ran my hands through his thick chest hair. Definitely a bear. A big Papi bear. The
shift in his expression was enough to get my pulse racing.
Want to play, little Boy?
Those were the magic words to get me hard. New energy coursed through me as Hector rose off the
couch and led me to the bedroom.
Deal once mentioned that our bedroom looked too quaint for a couple of BDSM lifestylers. She
expected black leather and cold steel. Sure, the antique dresser with the huge, oval mirror and the beige
chenille bedspread were kind of frumpy, but the wrought iron, four poster bed lent itself to a lot of kinky
possibilities that she probably never suspected. Then again, Hector and I got downright nasty on the
afghan covered couch out in the living room, too. And on the small kitchen table. And in the shower.
Come to think of it, the entire house was our playground.
Hector slipped a blindfold over my eyes as I sprawled on the bed. The mattress squeaked as he crawled
onto the bed with me and straddled my groin. If you move, so much as a twitch, you go to bed
frustrated. Do you understand, Boy?
It was hard not to smile. That gruff voice sent good chills through my body. Yes, Sir.
The palms of his big hands were hot. He pinched my nipples and tugged on them until I bit my lip. He let
go of one, but kept pulling the other until I felt cold metal and the pressure of a clamp on it. When it was
tight, he bent down and sucked at the exposed tip. Trying to keep on top of the pain, I gritted my teeth.
Then he grasped my other nipple in a vicious pinch and clamped it.
He climbed off me. Every movement sent sharp pangs through my chest. My shorts came off in one
quick yank. I was sure my dick pointed straight to the ceiling.
His hand touched my shoulder. Come to me.
Blind, I crawled across the mattress. He guided me close and helped me straddle his legs so that we sat
chest to chest on the bed, my legs around his waist, his thighs supporting my butt. When he moved, I
groped around until I found his shoulders and held on.
Hector flicked the clamps on my nipples randomly so that I couldnt anticipate the bump of pain. When
it was too much, my shoulders slumped, and tears trickled out from under the blindfold. Hector released
the clamps. For a moment, it was wonderful, and then the blood rushed in, bringing fresh pain with it.
Hectors big arms went around me. He stroked my hair and rocked me until I quieted down. He never
told me to hush when I cried.
When I was composed again, Hector forced my arms behind my back and cuffed them together. It
made balancing on his lap much harder.
Ready for your new toy? he asked.
Spank me, Papi.
Whatever it was, from the sounds of it he poured a ton of lube over it, so it wasnt a paddle. Then he
slipped the thing over my dick and moved it up and down. Do you like that?
Hector demanded honesty, so I said, Its okay. Anything touching my cock feels good right now. At
least its snug.
Baby, everything is a tight fit over your cock. Why is it that the bottoms are always the hung ones?
Since he called me Baby, discipline was relaxed. Youre quite hung, too, Hector.
I couldnt see it, but I swore I could feel his chest puffing out with pride. Ive got nothing to be ashamed
of, but you
Im the God of Sex. Nothing killed the mood like comparing dick sizes.
Hector kissed me. Yes, you are. And if you think your new toy is snug now-- His cock crammed into
the masturbation sleeve next to mine. Id never felt so stuffed into a space. Then he slid the toy up and
down. Oh Gods, did that feel good!
Fuck it, Boy.
Hector sucked in a long breath. Im watching your reflection in the mirror. Every time you push up,
dimples appear just above your ass. I wish I could lick your spine from here. You are a work of art,
Baby. I know it makes you uncomfortable when people look at you, but sometimes I just have to tell you
how hot you are.
Hot was right. My face burned.
He called me Sweet Baby in a whispery voice that made my libido go into overdrive. Between kisses, he
said the kinds of things that always made melt for him. Baby, Baby, Baby. All he had to do was let me
hear how much he wanted me and Id crawl over glass to give him what he asked.
Hector moved the sleeve up and down my cock while he kissed my collarbone. I had to special order
this toy so wed both fit inside. Would you like to see?
Yes, mmm, yes, mmm. I was still nodding when he pulled off the blindfold.
The sleeve was transparent. Seeing our cocks together inside it just about put me over the edge. I
stopped humping into it and closed my eyes.
Hector chuckled. Like it?
Oh, yes.
He reached behind my back and sprung the quick release on the handcuffs holding my hands behind me.
Put your hands back on my shoulders, and I want you to fuck as hard and fast as you can. I want you
looking into my eyes.
There were times when Hector had no trouble getting me to obey him. I gripped him, looked him right in
the eye, and fucked like a bunny just released from solitary confinement. My butt muscles clenched and
shoved me forward. He kept working the sleeve around our cocks. Inside, I loved the bump as his
cockhead slid past mine and back again. The lube kept it from being too much friction, but I got off on
how our skin glided together. My balls were so tight that I was afraid I couldnt stop myself from coming.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, I kept saying. No matter how hard I tried to hold them in, words spilled from my
mouth during sex. I looked down at the sleeve. Fuck, thats hot.
Look at me.
Hector must have loved the sensation inside the sleeve, too. His face set into that expression of hard
concentration he always got before he came. His eyes narrowed to slits, and he breathed hard through
his open mouth. I leaned in and shoved my tongue between his lips. He pulled at my hair until I broke the
lock on his mouth.
Now you can look down, Hector said. He gasped as his load splattered against the side of the sleeve.
The hot, thick come smeared as I pumped through it. Come for me. His command was all I needed. I
clenched my teeth, growled deep in my throat, and shot three days worth of pent-up sex over Hectors
cock.
***
The night before I headed to Toronto, Hector and I drove down past Belmont Shores to Ophirs house.
As usual, the parking on the streets was horrendous, so we had to park Hectors vintage truck blocks
away and hike past the narrow beach houses to Ophirs Mediterranean villa. To call Ophirs place a
mansion was a stretch, but in that neighborhood of tiny, clapboard houses packed tight onto their lots,
Ophirs two-story place with its big garden was comparatively huge.
I pushed the doorbell. I could hear the low rumble of male voices from inside, and it sounded as if
someone played the grand piano in the living room.
Number Three opened the door. At least I think it was Number Three. Ophirs slave boys were so
similar in build and coloring that they could have been related. With their shaved heads and matching gray
silk coolie outfits, all signs of individuality were erased. I wasnt sure, but it could have been that Number
Three had been a different boy each time wed been to Ophirs lately. It was possible. He had a high
turnover. Only Chris, Ophirs Number One, never changed. Boys who thought they wanted lifestyle
BDSM quickly learned under Ophirs hand whether they were cut out for it or not. Most werent.
Fantasy was a lot different than reality, and from what I heard, Ophir enjoyed shattering illusions.
Honestly, I was a little nervous as we made our way through the crowd in the living room. It was the first
time wed seen Ophir since the soccer game. I had no idea if he and Hector had talked and smoothed
things over. The closer we got to the kitchen where Ophir held court, the more relieved I was that old
friends held us up for small talk. Eventually, though, Hector pushed open the door to the kitchen.
The kitchen in Ophirs place was bigger than the living room in our house. Like the garden, it was right
out of a high-end, glossy magazine. The appliances alone cost more than a sports car. The countertops
were granite, the cabinets solid oak, the floor tiles handcrafted in Morocco. A solid oak table sat in the
bay window that overlooked the Moroccan gardens water feature and cerulean blue walls.
Masters in leather leaned against the counters and chatted. Hector, in his neat, wool pants and crisp
shirt, stood out. Only Ophir dressed like that, too. I wondered if that was something hed learned from
Hector, or if Hector had learned it from him. Several men moved to make room for Hector near the
island in the center of the kitchen. Many of the men had their boys on the floor. Sometimes Hector had
me kneel at his feet, but other times he had me stand, so I waited patiently for his signal instead of
assuming anything.
Hector pulled me close, turning me so that my back was against his chest. I kept my eyes down and my
mouth shut, as was expected of me. It wasnt boring, though. I loved listening to the Masters gossip.
Mostly they talked about wine and food. When talk turned to politics, I zoned in a private mental space.
Cleared of thoughts, my mind floated, and I was at peace.
Hectors body tensed slightly, pulling me out of my thoughts with a quick jerk. My gaze flitted up to see
why. Ophir had come over. I stared at my shoes. Thankfully, Ophir ignored me. Hector relaxed. I could
feel the rumble of a chuckle move through his chest. He hugged me tighter. Everything was the way it
should be.
After Ophir moved on to talk to his other guests, Hectors lips barely grazed my ear. Would you like to
go upstairs?
That was a loaded question. While it had been weeks since wed played deep, I wasnt so sure I
wanted to go into Ophirs dungeon. That room was stark like an operating theater, which kind of
creeped me out. The other thing I didnt like was the floor to ceiling two-way mirror on one wall. I knew
there was a room behind it, because Id been in it. Knowing that other men were watching always made
it hard for me to lose myself in a scene. I could feel their arousal, and as the God of Sex, found it hard to
ignore the worship flowing to me. I hated to share the moment with anyone but Hector. It was too much
like group sex, and I didnt think Hector would have consented to sharing me like that.
Hector let go of me. He grasped my hand and led me out of the kitchen as if I were a reluctant child. I
still lagged behind as we went up the stairs. Instead of getting angry, though, Hector paused at the top of
the stairs and gazed into my eyes.
Is something wrong, Baby?
I glanced at the door leading to the dungeon and shrugged. If Master commands--
I havent had you in the dungeon in a long time. He caressed my cheek. It was a fight between my
reluctance and wanting to please him. If only hed made it an order instead of asking.
Ill do anything you ask, Sir.
I know you will. This isnt a test of your obedience, Boy.
It was misery trying to think of the right thing to say. If only I had the power to give him the answer he
wanted to hear.
Feeling shy tonight?
Relieved that he understood, I nodded.
We can watch instead. He took my hand and led me into the small room behind the two-way mirror.
When he shut the door, it was dark except for the light from the dungeon.
A tall, slim boy was shackled to the brushed metal St. Andrews cross in the center of the room. The
overhead lights were harsh on the stark white tile floor and walls. The boys butt was an enviable shade
of pink. His Master, a leather-clad hulk I didnt recognize, peered into the wall cabinet of toys Ophir
provided for his guests.
Hector sat on the couch facing the mirror and unzipped his pants. I slipped to my knees and took his
cock into my mouth.
The boy behind me cried out. Hector grunted. The boy yelped. Hectors legs tensed. At the next scream
from the boy, Hector pulled his cock out of my mouth, stood, and tucked his hard on into his pants. He
touched my cheek. Sorry, Baby. I cant let that continue. That man has no idea what hes doing with
that flogger, and hes going to seriously hurt his boy if no one stops him. You wait right here and Papi will
be back in a moment.
He strode out of the darkened room. The dungeon door opened seconds later. The Master lowered his
arm as Hector walked in. Hector beckoned to the Master. The guy looked pissed off about the
interruption. He stomped over to Hector.
Ophir slipped into the dark room with me. We stood side by side as we silently watched Hector talk to
the increasingly agitated Master. Ophir turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. I was beginning to
think hed never leave your side. Ill make this quick. I never did thank you, Sam, for what you did for
my Number One, Chris, a couple months ago. He whispered so that we couldnt be heard in the
dungeon.
Hector was the one who fixed things. I blushed. I wondered if Ophir knew that Hector told me hed
paddled Ophirs ass in front of Chris.
You were having your own troubles, but you took time to help my boy when he was alone and scared.
You sent him to Hector. If you hadnt, well, I made a bad mistake sending him away, and because of
you, hes mine again. I wont forget that, Sam.
He gave me far too much credit.
Inside the dungeon, the Masters ears burned bright red. Hectors body language was calm, but I could
hear him giving that Master a tongue-lashing that rivaled any whipping. Even the boy shackled to the
cross listened with a shocked expression in his eyes.
Ophir turned to go, but stopped. I dont want Hector to catch us alone, so Ill say my piece and then
go. Im probably the only person on earth who understands exactly what youre going through with
Hector. If you ever need to talk, call me. I will be there for you just as you were there for my Chris. As
quickly as hed come in, he slipped out of the room.
Chapter 6
George, my editor at Park Avenue Magazine, had sent frantic emails demanding I cover one of the films
premiering at the Toronto Film Festival. Given a choice, I would have avoided it based on the trailers
alone, but the magazine wanted the female star on the December cover and everyone was ordered to
blow smoke up her ass to get her to agree to it.
Oops. Did I say that out loud?
My well-ordered life had been turned upside down by my career. The strict schedule that kept me on
track was replaced by chaos. Running from junkets to screenings to parties left a nebulous haze in the pit
of my stomach. And then there was the stupid movie I had to review.
Oh man. I was in a bad mood. Good thing Hector wasnt there to see me scowling. I took a deep
breath, closed my eyes, and exhaled. It wasnt fair to judge a movie by its smarmy trailers. It could be
really good. I doubted it, but there was always the chance Id be pleasantly surprised.
Deep cleansing breath. Neck roll. Attitude adjustment.
At least the theater was incredible. The Elgin & Winter Garden Theatre reminded me of the El Capitan
in Hollywood with its opulent, art deco interior and balcony. The exterior was absolutely gorgeous, and
the interior was stunning. I loved seeing movies in those kinds of venues, because it was more like a real
theater experience than going to a generic multiplex at a mall.
I should have known better than to sit near the reserved seats in the back of the theater, but I needed to
take notes during the film and didnt want to disturb anyone. If only everyone were as considerate. As
the huge chandelier dimmed and the red velvet curtain rose, there was a commotion at the door leading
to the foyer. Unlike almost everyone else in the theater, I refused to turn around and look at the noisy
latecomers. I didnt have to look to know who it was. The female stars name was whispered by at least
a hundred people.
My seat was in the row directly in front of their reserved places, so it felt as if everyone in the theater
was staring at me. They werent, of course. Who looked at a movie critic? Still, my face blazed as I
scrunched down as far as I could in my seat.
Every person in the stars posse bumped my seat as they passed behind me. Not one interrupted their
loud conversation to apologize. My teeth ground together as I hid behind my notebook.
The motion and noise behind me didnt end as the movie started. A pair of cowboy boots slammed on
top of the empty seat next to me. Several people seemed to be playing a game of musical chairs, only
instead of music they were using angry whispers. Everyone wanted to sit next to the star, who apparently
was directly behind me.
Finally, half an hour into the rehashed pathos, generic family dysfunction, and precocious child actors
quoting Freud in lispy little voices on the screen, the posse seemed to have settled down. Then loud
music sounded behind me. Great.
Hello? David! My man! Hows it going? The star made no effort to lower her voice when she
answered her mobile phone.
The muscles down my back tightened.
She chatted away for ten minutes, laughing loudly and talking about personal crap. Like almost every
other person in the theater, I found myself eavesdropping, albeit unwillingly, on a Hollywood deal in
motion. It eclipsed everything around it, even her heavy-handed dramatic scene in the film. Finally, it
seemed shed wrapped everything up. Relieved, I tried to figure out what was happening in the film. I
was almost into it when she got another call.
As the music rose in an overwrought emotional crescendo in the final minutes of the movie, I couldnt
take it anymore. Stooping, I slinked along the row of seats and headed for the lobby. By the time I got to
the door, the final credits were rolling. I noticed that, unlike most festival movie audiences, no one except
the stars posse gave it a standing ovation. Few people in the theater even clapped.
It was going to be almost impossible to keep my disgust with the star out of my review, but even if she
hadnt been such a jerk, it would have been hard to find something nice to say about that movie. Too bad
I couldnt review the theater instead. Or could I? I was considering that sneaky idea when I was grabbed
in a tight embrace.
Alberto, its been hours, I said as I gently disentangled myself from his arms. When I left home, hed
been in his driveway wearing a Speedo and washing his car. Since his driveway was on the far side of his
house, I didnt think he put on the show for my benefit. Deals living room window, however, was
directly across the street.
Surprised to see me?
Youre Fame. Film festivals are probably your native habitat.
He swatted my arm. Youre always so funny. A rush of his worship washed over me.
Got your exclusive picture yet?
His brown eyes sparkled with mischief as he clutched the camera hanging from his neck. Im working
on it. He glanced around and leaned close. Im figuring out this God thing, although Id be grateful for
any pointers you can give me. Are you free for dinner?
My editor, George, is in town. He invited me to dinner tonight. But maybe--
The theater doors slammed open. The star of the film strode into the lobby, followed by her posse. She
paused and posed as if she expected fans to rush up to her. A few did, but most people kept walking.
Annoyed, she glanced around the lobby. When she spotted me, she called out, Sam Dewey! You came
to see my film! She oozed something, but it wasnt charm. She wasnt that good of an actor. Still, I took
her hand briefly and gave her a wan smile. Going to give me a good review? she asked.
Her posse smiled and nodded, as if urging me to feed her ego. That was their job, not mine. I was
surprised to catch Alberto nodding and smiling, too. What kind of Kool-Aid had he been drinking? Hed
seen her film, hadnt he? Or maybe he thought it was good. There was no accounting for taste.
Congratulations on the film, I said, because that was saying something without meaning anything. She
didnt react. Was she waiting for a compliment? It didnt seem right to tell her that she was the least
sucky thing about her movie, which wasnt saying much, but I wasnt about to lie either. Hmm. What to
say? I said, Im sure well be seeing more of your work in the future. There. That was nice. Especially
since I didnt finish my thought by saying, At the dollar theater.
She grinned at me as she put on sunglasses. Were throwing a little party tonight. You should come,
she said as she grandly swept past me. Her merry little band of fart catchers trotted after her. My heart
broke a little when Alberto cheerfully waved goodbye and fell in line with the rest of the posse.
***
I hadn't lied to Alberto when I told him that I had dinner plans. My editor, George, was in town, and we
did have a dinner date. While Id toyed with the idea of weaseling out of it, once I told Alberto about it, I
knew I was doomed to go, so I rode the elevator to the top of one of Torontos skyscrapers and
stepped out into the foyer of a ritzy restaurant. From the secluded booths to the harpist near the center
bar to the thick, white linen tablecloths, the place screamed date restaurant, which meant that dinner
would take at least three hours. Oh joy. Oh rapture. What the hell was wrong with a burger at a diner?
Was I the only person who preferred that?
George was already seated at a table toward the center of the room. He had sort of a nautical theme
going with his suit. It was summer blue with a gold anchor embroidered on the pocket. His shirt was
yellow, white, and blue striped, and his yellow tie had blue anchors on it. Im sure it looked great in a
catalog. Maybe International Male? Oh Gods. I was turning into a clothing snob.
I hope you dont mind terribly being away from the windows. You can still see the view from here.
Heights make me uncomfortable, George confessed as I took my seat.
Then why did he pick that place? Id be happy to go somewhere else if youd prefer, I said.
George shook his head. Youre very thoughtful, Sam, but I promised you the finest meal in Toronto.
It was worth a shot.
Where are you staying? he asked as he carefully draped his napkin over his lap.
The Renaissance Marriot. Its at the Rogers Centre.
He blinked.
The Skydome? Where the Blue Jays play? I still didnt see a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
Baseball? Surely hed heard of the game. My room actually overlooks the park. If they had a game
this week, Id be able to watch it from my room. Of course, theyre on the road the whole time Im
there, which is probably why it didnt cost me a fortune.
How nice.
Maybe he was thinking of my expense report. I was glad dinner went on his and not mine.
I hear they serve an excellent crown roast for two here.
I didnt want to look at his eyes, so I studied the menu as if I were cramming for a test.
We ordered drinks and appetizers. I wanted to go ahead and order my main course, but no one else
was in a hurry, so I had to bide my time. After the waiter brought out salads and went through the whole
pepper ritual, George decided to make conversation.
Did you screen that movie today?
I saw it.
And? His fork poised over his salad, he waited to hear my judgment.
Thats three hours of my life I wont get back. Much like dinner with him, but I didnt say that, either.
He wiped his mouth and put the napkin back into his lap. Surely theres something nice you can say
about it.
Not without outright lying.
Thats a shame, because the editor-in-chief, Lyle, really wants her for our December cover.
Youve mentioned that before, several times.
George looked pained. Help me out here, Sam.
It either gets no review or a bad one. If you start dictating an opinion to me, Ill have to move on.
Oh, Sam! Dont take it that way! Youre so passionate about your work. I understand. I do. He
touched my hand and sighed grandly.
I felt bad about being bitchy. You have over a month before the issue with my review comes out. Put
pressure on her people to commit before then.
Weve tried.
Then how about this -- stop calling her management. Give it two weeks. Then have one of your office
workers call up and tell them that in light of advance word about the movie, the magazine is thinking of
going in a different direction for the December cover, but thank you very much for their time. I guarantee
you that within an hour theyll be begging you to talk to them. Of course, theyll be rude as hell, because
thats the way the game is played, but when theyre told that everyone is too busy to take their calls,
panic will set in.
Georges beady eyes twinkled. He chortled. Thats positively inspired!
Using my fork, I stabbed the lawn clippings on my plate. I hate Hollywood.
But you understand it.
I have my agent to thank for that. Shes constantly lecturing me.
At the mention of Deal, I swear George flinched. I didnt blame him one bit.
***
After the waiter finally took our dinner plates away, George asked, Are you going back to your room
now? Theres a great martini bar down the street. He touched my hand again. Lets go for a nightcap.
Sadly, I was invited to a party for the movie I screened today, and since the magazine wants to keep
the star happy, for now, I thought Id be sociable and drop in.
Georges libido wrestled with his ambition for a moment and lost. Definitely, you should go to that
party.
My smile was as superficial as they come. Im only doing this for the magazine.
We appreciate it.
Im sure you do. Why did George bring out the pissy asshole in me? Maybe it was the wedding band
he wore. Not that I was against open relationships, far from it, but Id made it pretty clear that I didnt
fool around on the side. Even if Hector had let me pursue sex outside our relationship, George so wasnt
my type. Polite hints seemed to fly right over his head, though, and he kept pushing when most guys
would have taken the hint and backed off. Was that sexual harassment? No. He hadnt threatened my
job. Not yet. I hoped he didnt ever go there.
I made a big show of checking the time. Well, it was nice getting to see you again.
You should come to New York. Id love to show you around town.
I took a sip of my iced tea.
George picked up his wine glass. Or you could come out to PTown for a weekend. There are a lot of
people I could introduce you to.
Thats a very nice offer, George. Unfortunately, with all these film festivals, my travel schedule is crazy.
I set my glass down. He set his down. I pulled the linen napkin off my lap and set it on the table. George
did the same. I glanced at my watch again. Im running a little late. Maybe Ill see you around the
festival.
George made a face. Im heading back to New York tomorrow morning. I only came out to meet
you.
Oh great. George, about the G-G-Golden Globes, I really dont think Im cut out to be on television.
Oh, stop it. Youre gorgeous. You could be in movies.
I smiled wearily. Why did people always say that? Theyd never seen me act. Surely mastering that craft
was more important than being pretty. Im not comfortable in front of cameras. When I was little, I had
a bad stutter. I can keep it under control now, but when Im nervous, I cant get a word out. Im going to
freeze up and not be able to say a word. The telecast is going to be a disaster.
George daubed his lips with his napkin. He leaned forward. Ive been meaning to ask you -- whats
that cologne youre wearing, Sam? Its very primal.
Okay, time to run for the door. Too bad Id already used all my exit lines. If I didnt move fast, taking
my leave was going to get downright painful. This was great. Gotta go. Talk to ya soon. And I was out
of there.
On the elevator ride down to the lobby, I checked my watch again. It was only eleven-thirty.
Theoretically, the party began at eleven, but I knew enough to wait a couple hours before I made my
appearance. With time to kill, I headed back to my hotel room.
***
This feels so weird, I told Hector as we talked on the phone. I sat on a double bed in my hotel room
with every pillow propped up behind me. The curtains were open so that I could see the ball park.
Except for one bank of lights, though, it was dark.
Youre okay? Hector asked.
I twisted the bed sheet white cord around my finger. Im fine. And I mean that, I added quickly. Its
just that youre always the one on the road for work, and Im the one at home, and Cant I just phase
home to spend the night?
No. We agreed that you need to focus on your work at these film festivals, and Im a distraction. So
you stay there and do your work and hobnob with all your industry friends, and when its over, then you
can come home.
We agreed? Like hell. He'd simply told me thats the way it was going to be. For your own good, hed
said. Scowling, I wriggled deeper into the pillows. Is there a law that says all hotel room drapes and
bedspreads have to be a matching ugly print?
He chuckled.
I dont know if I can sleep without my cuffs on. Could you come here just long enough to shackle me
for the night, Papi? I asked.
If I were to phase to your hotel room right now, Id probably find you sprawled over the bed.
Check.
A hand tracing down the groove between your pecs, over your abs, and down to the waistband of your
briefs.
My sexiest pair, of course.
Hair mussed and in your eyes. A little pout on your mouth just begging to be kissed away. Hectors
voice dropped into a hushed bass. And if I did come, youd ask if we could cuddle for a bit before I
bound you for the night. Of course Id say yes. Youd suck on my nipples and play with my chest hair.
Id fondle you while we made out--
My hand balled into a fist above the waistband of my briefs while I fought the temptation to touch
myself. Sir? Im getting really hard.
Me, too. Hector laughed. Can you see the dugout from your hotel room?
If I jump on the bed.
He sucked in a breath. Wicked Boy. Now Im picturing you jumping on the bed in your underwear.
If you phase over right now, I could put on a show for you.
No, Sam, he growled. Tell me about your day. See any good films?
He ruined all my fun. I sat through a couple today, each one a regrettable waste of film.
What did you do for dinner?
George took me out to some fancy restaurant. I winced. Would Hector have a problem with that? He
didnt seem to be reacting, but he wasnt talking, either. The silence made me nervous, so I started
babbling. He wanted to make sure I toed the company line and kissed the appropriate asses. It was
nothing but business through the entire meal. Have you ever been to Toronto? I think youd like this city,
Sir. The architecture is really unique. You should have seen this theater I went to today. It was originally
built for vaudeville, and they have a museum with hand-painted screens from the old shows. Its really
cool. We should come here some time on vacation. I curled on my side, thankful for the earpiece that
freed me from having to hold my cell phone.
Are you in for the night?
Not really. I have to go to a party in about an hour. I heard that its in a dance club. I just hope no one
tries to get me out on the floor. Its so hard to ignore the music. I cant describe it, but it feels like it takes
control of me, and I cant stop myself from sending out bursts of sex power. I love dancing. I wish I
could just get out on the floor and let go like everyone else.
Maybe you can dance for me when you get home.
That sounded like fun. Order me home right now, Sir, and Ill give you a lap dance. My ass will rub
your cock in time to some sultry blues, and then Ill slide down on my knees and rub my face against you
before I take your zipper in my teeth and work it down. As soon as your fat cock pops free, Ill worship
it properly. Would you like for me to run the tip of my tongue under your foreskin and tease the head for
a while? Or maybe youd like me to do that trick where I hold your cock in my mouth while I lap at your
balls. Mmmm. Theyd taste so good. You could shove my head down and fuck my face until my lips are
bruised.
He exhaled slowly. Bad, bad Boy. Trying to tempt me. If you were here right now, Id put you over my
knee.
Id like that. I rolled onto my back.
And Id slowly pull down your briefs.
So hed know what he did to me, I whimpered.
Pull on your nipples, Boy. Work them for me. Are you hard?
Oh, yeah.
I bet your briefs are tight and you want to touch yourself, Hector said. His voice rolled over my skin
like electricity.
I gulped. Yes, Sir. My free hand pinched my nipple hard and then tugged on it until pangs shot through
it.
Roll on your stomach. Put a couple pillows under your hips so that your ass is high up in the air, Boy.
I grabbed the pillows and shoved them under me. It was so nasty doing the phone sex thing with him.
Ive done it, Sir.
Now pull down the back of your briefs so that your ass is bare but your cock is still covered. Got it?
Spread your knees as far apart as you can so that your asshole is exposed.
A long groan escaped as I obeyed him. Sir, may I close the curtains?
Is it night there? he asked. Are the lights on in your room?
Yes to both, Sir.
Then leave the curtains open and the lights on. Maybe someone is sitting all alone in that big, empty
stadium and watching you through a pair of binoculars. He can see you waiting to be spanked. He can
see how your asshole puckers. He knows how much you want your Masters cock.
Even though I knew no one could see me, I cupped my hand over my eyes.
Listen, Boy.
The familiar sound of his leather belt sliding out of the loops came through the phone. My cock
hardened. I slowly ground against the pillows as I tried to get comfortable. The next sound was even
worse torture. He must have held the phone near his pants as he unzipped his fly.
I just sent you a present. Look on the nightstand, he told me. A huge, black butt plug, glistening with
lube, appeared beside the bed. I frowned. Work it in, Boy. Fill that ass.
For a moment, I thought of disobeying. He knew how much I hated a plug. He also must have known I
was having rebellious thoughts, because his brand heated up on my ass cheek. With a little pout, I
reached for the plug.
Its cold, Sir, I told him as I pressed the tip to my hole. Using gentle but relentless pressure, I slowly
worked the widening bulb past my protesting muscles. Its too big.
Hold still for a moment, Boy. Deep, slow breaths. Youre fighting me. I want you to relax. Submit.
While I listened to him, I closed my eyes. He was right. I was fighting him. My free hand touched my
slave collar. Fighting him always made me miserable. I had no idea why I did it. Just stubborn, I guess.
Are you ready to obey me?
I nodded, then realized he couldnt see that, so I said, Yes, Sir.
Hectors voice got soft. I swore it felt as if he gently stroked my hair while he talked to me over the
phone. Relax. Take your time. Push slowly. Work it in.
The bulb had my hole stretched almost beyond what I could bear. I bit my lip. A little gasp escaped,
though, as the widest part finally moved inside me.
Its in, Sir. All the way.
Good Boy. How does it feel?
Exhausted from the effort, I tried to relax. Im so full, Sir. It feels sort of good and uncomfortable at the
same time. I wriggled, but nothing relieved the pressure. Hector had me helpless and horny. Too bad he
was several thousand miles away.
I cast a glance over my shoulder at the window. It reflected the room back at me. I was quite the sight,
with my ass propped up by the pillows and the flange of the butt plug visible between my ass cheeks.
Was anyone watching? Had they seen me work that big plug into my ass? Could they tell how turned on
I was?
Hector chuckled. Are you feeling like a dirty slut?
My mouth opened. How did you know?
I know my Boy. You are a dirty slut, Sam. A bad, dirty slut. Your ass should be spanked hard,
shouldnt it? A dirty little slut should have a dark pink bottom after hes been properly spanked.
I gulped. I could feel the air move through the hotel room, pushed by the air conditioner, but I wished it
was the whoosh that preceded the slap of a paddle on my bare flesh. My back arched.
Listen, Boy. Hector said. I had no idea what he hit, but I could hear the smack of Hectors leather belt
against bare flesh.
Moaning, I writhed. Please, Sir, please. The smacks sounded louder and harsher. I thought Id lose it
and phase home.
Dont move, Hector warned me. The sounds that came next were a real test of my obedience. While
Hectors brand grew hotter on my ass, I heard the slick, sloppy sound of lube and a fist. My hole
tightened around the butt plug. Fuck your pillows, slut. Fuck them hard. I want to hear it.
He didnt need to tell me twice. I wanted free of the underwear, but I knew that the vision of me trapped
in them turned Hector on. Between the soft give of the pillows and the way the underwear bound me, it
was futile. The harder I fucked, the more the butt plug rubbed against my prostate. Panting and sweating,
I furiously humped away.
Hectors hand must have been smoking over his cock. The fap, fap, fap of his fist had me begging. I
wanted to suck his cock; I wanted him to fuck me; I wanted to slide my hand into my underwear and flog
my meat. He wouldnt let me have any of it.
Imagine that stadium full of men watching you, Slut. They know all about you. Theyre watching you
fuck the pillows. They know your ass is full. They know you deserve to be punished, and they want to
see it. They want to watch your Papi smack your ass until its red and hot and youre screaming.
Oh fuck, what he did to me. My nuts were so tight that I could shoot any second. Papi--
Hector grunted. I could picture the spurt of white come over his brown hand. As he milked the rest out,
I bet his come frothed from the stroking. I wanted to suck his fingers into my mouth and lick them clean.
Pull up you underwear and put the pillows back where they belong.
Huh? What about me? He couldnt be serious. My balls ached and the head of my cock was chafed
from rubbing against my underwear. But--
Ive warned you about your manipulative ways, Sam. Not just once, but three times, you tried to defy
me tonight. I cant let you get away with it. As part of your punishment, youll spend the rest of your stay
in Toronto frustrated. If you come, I will find out, and you will be very sorry that you lost control.
Understand? By the way, I havent forgotten about the butt plug. Youll wear that until I tell you to
remove it, Hector warned me.
Even though he couldnt see it, I bowed my head. Yes, Sir.
Now, get dressed and go to your party. And, Boy, be careful how you move tonight, because that butt
plug is designed to rub against your prostate to keep you stimulated.
Suddenly, the butt plug was vibrating inside me. I had to grasp the headboard to stay on my feet. Oh
Gods, I was going to shoot. I gritted my teeth.
Hectors laugh was downright evil. Did I mention that the butt plug has a remote control vibrator built
in? I may be pressing that from time to time tonight, just to keep you on your toes, little Boy.
The bastard was still chuckling when I hung up.
***
Hector was right. Even without the vibrator on, that butt plug rubbed me all the right ways, which was
the wrong way if I was going to keep myself under control. Despite the firm jock strap I wore, it wasnt
easy. Walking through the lobby, I had to let jolts of lust run feral into the night so that I wouldnt lose my
mind.
Sam! Alberto bounded off a love seat across the marble floor of the lobby.
Are you staying here, too? What a coincidence, I said dryly.
Alberto laughed. No, silly. I was waiting for you. I wanted to save you from a big mistake. Youre
headed to the wrong party.
How do you know? Oh yeah, you were there when she invited me.
He made a face. Like I said, the wrong party. Shes over. No one is going. Im here to take you to the
right party.
We walked outside. The doorman, who was dressed like a Prussian War Field Marshall, beckoned to a
waiting cab. Alberto and I got into the taxi. He leaned forward and gave the cabbie an address.
How do you know shes over? I asked Alberto as we pulled away from the hotel.
He looked out the window. I just do. Fame is the name of my game.
Okay. Why is she over?
I saw how the audience reacted to her movie. But most of all, I watched how you responded to her
during the movie. She was pissing you off. Later, after we left the theater, I thought about that, and
decided shes over.
You decided? It was frightening how cool he was about it.
He turned his brown eyes onto me. For once, he was serious. Yes.
My mouth went dry.
Alberto perked up and changed the subject. How did you enjoy dinner with Joseph Dudeka?
How did he know about that? It was wonderful, I admitted. But I wonder why he invited me after he
threw my card away. I think maybe Harris Smith put in a good word for me.
Alberto frowned. Harris? He didnt do anything. Im the one who got you invited to all those parties in
Venice, Sam. Im the one who got Joseph Dudeka to invite you to dinner.
Did I ever feel stupid, and a little pissed off. I didnt like him wedging his way into my life like that.
***
The taxi pulled to the curb a couple minutes later. A cool blue sign glowed over the entrance to the club,
and there was a long line of people snaking down the block. Three bouncers stood at the entrance
between two short, velvet ropes. A pack of paparazzi hung at the corner.
Were here, the taxi driver announced, as if it werent obvious.
Come on. Alberto tugged at my shirt as I paid the cabbie. He opened the door. I slid out after him.
Out on the sidewalk, the music from the club slammed against my chest. It was like being assaulted by
invisible beings. I so did not want to go inside. It would be louder and there would be too many people.
Run, my mind begged, but I didnt want to have to explain to Hector why I disobeyed him. There was
nothing to do but endure it. Maybe I could make my appearance and then leave. Hector didnt say how
long I had to stay. I wouldnt even take a taxi back. Id just slip into a dark corner and then phase to my
hotel room.
So what is this party? I asked as the cab pulled away.
A list. Im getting you into the best. Harris Smith didnt invite you to his party, Sam. I invited you.
Remember, thats what fame does for you.
But I dont want to be famous. I didnt think he heard a word I said over the music, though.
I didnt mean to take the worlds most languid walk from the curb to the club entrance, but Hector was
right to warn me about how I moved. That damn butt plug massaged my prostate with each step. By the
time I reached the bouncer with the clipboard, I was almost orgasmic. Maybe it was the careful stroll, or
the fact that I ignored the line, or maybe it was the aura of sexual hunger that I knew radiated around me,
but the paparazzi went nuts.
People waiting behind the velvet rope shouted my name. Spooked, I looked around frantically for a
place to hide.
Alberto grinned. Isnt this great?
Im blind.
Youll get used to it.
Really, I dont want to be famous.
Alberto lightly slapped my arm. Too late. Youre my pet project.
One of the bouncers gripped my elbow. I was sure he was going to toss me to the end of the long line,
but he said, Mr. Dewey, this way. Suddenly it was dark and deafeningly loud. The door had shut
behind me, cutting off all the camera flashes. I blinked. Yellow halos slid across my vision. If the bouncer
said anything else to me, I didnt hear it.
The club looked like a converted Arabian tent, but ultramodern. Metal gleamed against black surfaces.
Neon blue underlit everything, making everyone on the fringes of the crowd look like the undead. The
crowd wasnt Goth, though. By then, I knew expensive clothes when I saw them, and the women were
in genuine designer dresses. The men were all young and hot. They wore tight shirts over lean, hard
bodies. They either knew how to dress or had personal shoppers.
The bar near the entrance was a solid wall of people. I worked my way past them into the main room. A
video showed on huge screens on each wall. On the dance floor some people bopped around, but
mostly it was S&M -- stand and model. I glanced at my watch. It must have been a record. I was in the
club for ten seconds and I was already bored.
Alberto grinned up at me. Isnt this great? At least, thats what I think he said. He threw his arms over
my shoulders and danced so that our groins bumped.
I nodded as I backed away.
He dragged me to the center of the dance floor. His eyes shone, and that gorgeous grin of his promised
all kinds of mischief. The boy moved like a go-go dancer. For a moment, he was caught up in the rhythm
in his own little world. The music crept under my skin. Albertos joy was infectious; the music carried it
to me. My hips swayed. I knew I shouldnt. I knew I had to stop, but the pounding music broke through
my willpower.
The heat of the other dancers slid over my skin. The mix of perfumes and sweat went right to my head.
Feral energy hit the lizard part of my brain. This was my temple. The worship was too much to hold in, so
I let it go, go, go and my arms rose and I was slinking against the sassy backside of a girl in a glittery
dress. Before she could turn around, I slipped between a lanky black guy and his shirtless, Korean
boyfriend for a little three way grind. Lust and joy throbbed out of my pores.
Alberto caught up to me and wrapped his arm around my waist. He nodded, encouraging me to come
along as he ground his groin on my thigh. I felt a body press against my back, and some guy turned my
head to the side and kissed me, his tongue doing wondrous dance moves inside my mouth. My hand slid
up my sweat-slicked chest. I put my wet fingers in Albertos mouth. He closed his eyes and sucked on
them. More hands touched me. They tugged on my clothes. Someone rubbed my cock. I backed away
from that hand and into the one sliding down between my ass cheeks. Oh Gods, not the butt plug! I
twisted away.
The other dancers got aggressive. I lurched forward, nearly knocking poor Alberto on his ass. Hands
grabbed at me and tried to pull me back. I shoved Alberto out of the way and slithered through the tight
jam of bodies. Hiding behind a stack of speakers, I bowed my head and panted.
Hey! Albertos dark brown eyes seemed confused, and maybe a little hurt. Wanting to explain, I
grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward the mens room. That probably gave him the wrong idea. He
grinned and clung to my arm.
Gently, I peeled him off. It isnt you, I shouted close to his ear. Its Oh fuck it all, I was a God.
There was no need to play club pantomime. I created a quiet space around us so that only he could hear
what I said. I cant dance in public, Alberto. It isnt you. Its because of who I am.
He still pouted.
Exasperated, I blew my bangs out of my face. When I was in college, before I accepted that I was a
God, my cousin and I went to Ft. Lauderdale for spring break one year. We were flat broke. Couldnt
even afford a hotel room. At one of the big bars, we saw that there was a dance contest with a five
hundred dollar first prize. I dont know how my cousin talked me into entering, but he did. I was
embarrassed as hell when I got up on stage. And scared. People booed. Then the music started, and I let
it take over. I just wanted people to like me enough to vote for me. I guess I didnt know my power, or
understand that I had it, but I let a wave of lust loose. Next thing I knew, drunk college girls rushed the
stage and tried to rip off my clothes. My cousin and I ran for our lives. We jumped in the car, hit the gas,
and didnt slow down until we crossed the border into Alabama.
Alberto clapped his hands together as he laughed. Did you win?
Win? It took the state police three days to break up the riot I started. Im lucky they didnt arrest me.
You saw what happened in the few moments I was out on the dance floor with you. If Id kept dancing,
this place would have turned into an orgy.
Would that have been so terrible? He cocked his head to the side, grinned at me, and touched my
chest.
I moved his hand away. Yes. And I told you before, dont touch me without permission. I dont like
that.
Youre so strict. The little Brazilian batted his eyelashes.
I told you before that Im in a relationship.
Doesnt your daddy ever let you out to play with the other boys?
No.
He didnt stop smiling, but a little of the light left his eyes. What he doesnt know--
I would know.
Alberto showed me his sexiest pout. Then he glanced at the dance floor. Its dull down here anyway.
Lets go up to the VIP lounge.
***
Alberto kept a firm grip on my hand as he led me up a flight of stairs. I could see through the mesh of the
metal risers. The brushed chrome handrail was a pole suspended from cables. Afraid that it might sway, I
didnt grasp it, but I wanted to.
Halfway up the stairs, a shirtless bouncer in white harem pants blocked us. Alberto made a face and
tried to step around him. The bouncer wasnt having any of it. Alberto went all attitude. While he tried to
convince the bouncer to let us pass, I looked down at the dance floor. The spell Id cast had just about
worked its way through their systems. Only a small group near the speakers tried to keep it going. The
rest stood around doing nothing. For just an evening, Id switch places with any of them. The music
crawled under my clothes and tried to entice me back onto the dance floor. If only Hector hadnt
worked me up so much before I left the hotel.
Albertos lips pressed to my ear. Come on.
The bouncer had stepped aside.
I followed Alberto along the narrow balcony above the dance floor. Blue lights glowed behind sheer
white panels at what looked like the entrance to a tent. We ran into another bouncer under the awning
who opened a smoked glass door for us. When the door shut behind us, it was like suddenly rolling up a
car window as you sped down the freeway. My ears were blocked for a moment. Then I swallowed and
could hear. The music was muted in the private room. Frosted windows etched in an Arabian motif
overlooked the dance floor. Square ottomans and huge pillows were scattered around the floor, but it
wasnt tacky. There was a private bar at one end of the long room. At the other end, Harris Smith
sprawled on an Arabian couch as he talked to a film director I knew.
At the most, I expected a nod of recognition. I was nowhere in the same league with those folks. So I
was stunned when Harris struggled into a sitting position. Sam! You made it! He patted the couch next
to him. Come on, sit!
As I picked my way through the small crowd, I could feel the mixed emotions, but no one seemed to
question why Id been invited. I eased down on the couch next to Harris. When Harris reclined on his
elbow, I stretched out, too.
Would you like anything to drink? Someone, bring Sam a drink.
A beer would be nice. I recognized the little queen who had visited my hotel room in Venice, but he
acted as if hed never seen me before in his life.
Ill have the same, Harris said.
The little queens eyebrows rose, but he sashayed away to get our drinks.
Alberto curled up at my feet.
It was like being in the kitchen at Ophirs house, only with the first rows of an Oscar telecast instead of
leathermen. Sure, there were a few people I didnt know, but almost everyone else was famous with a
capital F. It wasnt just actors, either. There were pop divas, legendary rock and roll stars, a well-known
writer, and several artists. Harris introduced me to everyone.
At first I was as intimidated as hell, but then I got into a conversation with an animator about the
Government of Canadas support for the arts, which segued into a fascinating discussion of American
and Canadian culture with a journalist from Vancouver, and before I knew it, a couple hours had passed.
Harris touched my hand. Oh! Ive been meaning to get your opinion on something, Sam. Youre the
perfect person to ask. He released the tieback on the curtains. We were alone inside although the party
was just feet away.
The butt plug vibrator went off. Id almost forgotten about it. Damn it, Hector! He couldnt have picked
worse timing.
Do you hear something? Harris asked.
My phone, I said as I dug in my pockets for my mobile. Hector must have turned the setting up,
because the vibrations in my ass went from nice to Oh My God. I frantically texted a message to Hector:
RED! He must have gotten it, because the buzzing suddenly quit. My grin was sheepish as I put my
phone away. Sorry about that.
Phone, huh? From the way Harris grinned, I didnt think he was fooled for a moment. Somehow, our
mouths ended up tantalizingly close. I didnt want to ask this in front of everyone, but I hate people who
have their management make awkward calls for them, he whispered.
With a start like that, I had to know what hed say next.
It was his turn to grin sheepishly. Most people in Hollywood know that Im gay, but for a lot of
reasons, my management team doesn't want Mr. and Mrs. America to know, so they set up dates for me
with whatever actress is hot at the moment. As a result, I have a bit of a reputation as a playboy.
A bit of a reputation? That was putting it mildly.
But Im sick of this. Im coming out. Maybe Anna did me a favor by outing me. I feel like a fraud
dodging questions. Its stupid.
If youre asking me my opinion of coming out, Im all for honesty, but its your life, not mine.
My management feels that, while its okay for me to be a straight slut, a gay slut is a whole different
matter. If I show up with a date at an event, they want it to always be the same guy. What I do in my
private life is, of course, up to me, but they want me to look like husband material in public. So Im
looking for a premiere buddy to take to all those events. Are you interested?
I doubt my boyfriend would understand.
He laughed. This would be purely platonic, I assure you. Just for the red carpet. And if hes the jealous
type--
He is. Very.
Let me sweeten the pot a little. He can even come along as a chaperone if he wants to. And in
exchange--
I dont want anything.
Harris mouth twisted up in that easy going, dimpled grin Id seen a thousand times on the screen. It was
devastating in person. What if I agree to an interview with Park Avenue Magazine? Theyve been after
me for years.
***
Way too early the next morning, my phone rang. Figuring it was Hector, I didnt bother to see who it
was. Hello?
Sam! My boy!
It definitely wasnt Hector.
George? I rubbed my face.
I dont know what you did to talk him into it, but whatever it was, thank you!
Huh? I was so eloquent when I was hung over.
Harris Smiths people just called us. He wants to do the December cover! His management said you
talked him into it. Do you know how long weve been begging them for a cover?
No.
Ages! Wait a second. Someone here wants to talk to you.
Sam Dewey? a man asked. This is Lyle, editor-in-chief for Park Avenue Magazine. Were all very
pleased that you talked Harris into doing our cover. Keep up the good work.
Sam, say whatever you want in your review. Youre golden, boy. Golden! George said. Lyle must
have passed the phone back to him.
Uh, thanks.
Well, Ill let you go. Just wanted to give you a pat on the back.
After he hung up, I rolled over and stared at the ceiling. What had I just gotten myself into? Sure,
George was happy, but I had this horrible feeling that Hector was going to be very angry.
***
Symbolically and physically, thresholds were important in many religions, but no more so than in Wiccan
practice. Ever since I moved in to Hectors house, the front door was the main focus of my warding
spells. Sure, I cast spells around the property line, on the back door, and on the detached garage, but
warding focused on the threshold always had more power than any other spell.
As I crossed the threshold into our home, spells crackled over my skin. They recognized me and let me
through, but it was like walking through thick water. Sensing that I meant the inhabitants no harm, they
finally withdrew.
My sport bag slid off my shoulder and thumped on the floor. I drew in a deep breath. Nothing smelled
as good as home.
Sam? Is that you? Hector stepped under the archway from the kitchen.
The first sight of him after wed been apart a few days always stunned me. He was so damn hot. Even
though he grinned at me, his legs were spread in that domineering stance that made it clear he was the
Master. I dropped everything, went to my knees, and crawled across the room to him. My lips pressed
reverently to the toe of his shoe. Then I turned my head and rested my cheek there.
Boy. He spoke softly, but the bass rumble of his voice filled the room.
I gazed up at him. Those cute crinkles around his eyes deepened as his smile grew warmer. He spread
his arms. I rose from the floor and threw myself at his chest. My nose pressed against his neck. I inhaled
the scent of him.
Its been a long week, Hector said. Im glad youre home.
I nodded.
He gave me a quick kiss before releasing me. So, tell me all about it.
Lots of movies. Not many I liked. Id already seen most of the good ones in Venice. There were some
dull parties and mindless Q&A sessions.
Your blog entries made it sound a lot better than that.
You read my blog?
Hector sat on the couch. I knelt at his feet and rested my head on his thigh.
Of course. I read all your work, Sam. I get to see a whole other side of you through your writing. The
way you talk about movies, its like listening to Sister Wendy talk about art. I see things I never noticed
before. Plus youre really quite funny, you know. Witty, but not mean spirited.
People left comments like that every day on the blog, but somehow it meant so much more hearing it
from Hector. Every time he praised me, I blushed like crazy while my heart flew. Thank you, Sir.
He tried to look stern, but I could see the smile lurking. So, do you have anything to confess?
Going an entire week without sex or jerking off had been a real struggle for me, but it was worth it to
face him with a clear conscience. I shook my head.
Thats what I wanted to hear. Hector patted the couch cushion next to him. Grateful, I crawled up
next to him and cuddled close. Poor Baby. A whole week without release. Are your balls sore? He
gripped my package and gave it a hard squeeze.
I nodded and tried to look as contrite and mournful as I felt. Are yours, Sir?
Hector lightly grazed his lips over mine. When you arent dosing my food with your lust spells, I can go
for a couple days without sex.
I guess I can, too, but I dont like it.
A little suffering is good for you. He kissed me. But I missed this. Soon he tugged at the top button
of my jeans. My hands were all over him. He shoved me back on the couch and yanked my pants down
just far enough to free my cock. .
Poor little Boy. No sex for a week. Thats what happens when youre bad.
My hands fumbled with his belt. He was as hard as I was. Sir, please, just let me--
His tongue plunged into my mouth. Oh, man. My mind reeled. For a moment, I forgot about everything
but our mouths meshed together like we were breathing the same oxygen, and then it felt like Id go crazy
if I couldnt suck his cock, so I tore at his clothes. We were panting and grinding. Muscles strained
against muscles.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Damn it! Hector glared at the front door.
I felt exactly the same way. We can ignore it, Sir.
Hector seemed tempted for a moment, but he rose off me. I propped up on my elbows. My lips felt
swollen. How could he leave me like that?
Boy.
Scowling, I rose off the couch and buttoned my jeans. I yanked open the front door.
Alberto stood on our front porch looking way too happy. I scowled at him.
Sam! Hi! Long time no see, huh?
All of two hours. That must be a record.
Hector hugged me from behind and ground his hard-on against my ass.
When Alberto smiled, angels probably sang. He was gorgeous. I envied his youth and boyish energy.
Not so long ago, I had been like that. I wasnt so sure I liked the way Hector and Alberto grinned at
each other. Jealous? Maybe I was, a little. Hector swore he preferred me older, but I had lingering
doubts. He sure looked interested in the hottie standing on our porch.
Alberto eyed my rumpled clothing and hard-on with a knowing look. Ah -- I seem to have interrupted
something.
You have. Is this important or just a social call? Hector asked.
Just visiting.
In that case-- Hector closed the door in Albertos face. I would have never dared be that rude, but he
was the Master. His finger hooked into the back belt loop of my jeans, and he pulled me toward our
bedroom. In the hallway, he shoved me against the wall and rubbed his body against mine while we made
out.
Dazed, I said, I thought you could go days without sex.
Its been days, Baby. His big fingers couldnt seem to get my shirt buttons through the holes, so he
gave up and yanked the shirt over my head and flung it on the ground. He kissed my bare shoulders.
Seven long, quiet, lonely days. His kisses worked up my neck to the spot under my ear.
Papi, I think I should tell you something.
Hush. Youre talking too much, Boy. He slid down to his knees and unbuttoned my fly. I groaned as
he took my hard on into his mouth. Watching him suck my cock always put me over the edge too fast, so
I turned my head. That little brat Alberto was peering into our front window from the porch. I glared at
him. He winked and then turned away.
Hector backed off my cock and gently turned me around to face the wall. He pulled my pants down to
my knees, parted my ass cheeks, and drove his tongue into my hole. I slid my hands down to grip my
butt for him. His nose mashed against my tailbone as he lapped at the sensitive skin. My legs trembled.
Hector wrapped his arms around my thighs and made me squat down on his face. My hands braced
against the wall. He tugged off my pants and threw them aside. Then he slid down until he was on his
back, bringing me down to the ground with him.
I unzipped Hectors pants. His scent rushed up to me. The foreskin on his fat cock was pulled back. I
leaned forward to take it into my mouth.
No, Hector mumbled before he pushed his tongue back inside me.
Please. His cock was so tempting, so close. All I wanted to do was gently run the tip of my tongue
between the head and foreskin. Please.
He bit my ass cheek hard. He lapped at my hole, bit my ass hard enough to bruise, and sucked on my
taint. My thigh muscles burned.
Hector gently brought me down to the wooden floor. His knee pressed between my legs as he kissed
my neck above my slave collar. His cock pressed against my hole and he slid just the head into me. For a
moment, he didnt move. He propped up on his elbow and looked down at me. His hand grasped mine.
While he gazed into my eyes, he began a long, slow thrust into me.
Chapter 7
Stupid me, I thought Hector was cool with the whole thing about me accompanying Harris to his
premiere I knew he wasnt exactly happy, but I reminded him that it was no different from when he took
clients out for dinner or drinks. It was just business. Thats how I saw it. Of course, the way I told the
story, the magazine told me I had to. There was no way in hell Id admit that I volunteered. I figured that
Harris would come out, be seen with me a few times, and then find a real partner to drag to those things.
After that, I was off the hook. How many times could he possibly need a token boyfriend anyway?
I should have known something was up when Hector stayed home from work the day of Harris
premier. An even bigger flag was when he poured his first whiskey around four instead of waiting until
after dinner. He sat in his poppa chair in the living room. The TV wasnt on, and he didnt have a book.
He just sat there, brooding, but I was too busy fretting over which shirt to wear with my new tux to pay
much attention to that.
White, or white? I held up both shirts for Hectors approval. One had a classic pleated front. The
other was plain. Even though I had colored shirts, I didnt feel confident enough to pull off that look.
Hector shrugged. He tipped his highball glass back and forth. The ice cubes clinked.
White it is. Do you want me to refresh that, Sir?
He held it out for me. I went into the kitchen and got him more ice. Then I poured a scant two fingers of
whiskey into the glass. He made a face when I handed it to him, but he took a sip anyway.
Dinner is in the fridge. All you have to do it nuke it for a couple minutes.
Hector grunted.
Ill be home as soon as I can. It shouldnt be too late. The cast has a press junket tomorrow.
He stopped responding, so I went into the bedroom and got dressed.
***
Id been to movie premiers before, but Id never arrived in a limo and walked down a red carpet. I had
no clue what I was supposed to do, so I hung back while Harris waved to his fans. No one was
interested in me, thank the Gods, so I searched the photographers for Alberto and did a little hello wave
when our eyes met. He snapped a picture of me, the little brat, before turning his lens back to Harris.
Further down the carpet, almost at the entrance of the theater, one of the TV shows stopped Harris for
a quick interview. Since Id have to do that for the Golden Globes, I watched her technique. It was hard
to hear what she asked over the desperate screams of "We love you, Harris!" from the fans behind the
security barrier, so I didnt pay too much attention until suddenly everyone was looking at me.
My face went red. Harris motioned for me to come over. Slowly, like a man on his way to the electric
chair, I walked over to the interviewer. Harris rubbed my arm and smiled at me like I was someone very
special. Acting, I supposed. I mean, we'd gotten along on our limo ride to the event, but we mostly
talked about basketball. He hadnt touched me or even flirted.
Show us a kiss, Alberto shouted over the crowd. When I glowered at him, he smiled and gave me the
thumbs up.
The rest of the crowd took up the chant. Kiss! Kiss!
Why was kissing suddenly de rigueur for gay couples? No one shouted at straight couples to kiss for the
camera, but Id noticed that they always did when the couple was gay or lesbian.
I shook my head. Harris squeezed my arm tighter.
The fans demanded. Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!
Come on, the interviewer purred.
Harris and I both chuckled sheepishly. I shrugged. He placed worlds most chaste kiss halfway on my
lips, halfway on my cheek, like he was greeting his grandmother. The crowd went wild, hooting and
clapping. I guess if it was absolutely devoid of passion, a gay kiss was acceptable in public.
Thankfully, Harris headed into the theater at a crisp pace. I hurried to keep up with him.
Sorry, man, he said, once we got inside. I didnt mean for that to happen.
Its okay.
He cocked his head. As long as they get your name right?
As long as they get your name right. Its your premier. I dont care if they call me John Doe.
He seemed pleasantly surprised. Sorry, man. Youve burst onto the scene so quickly that, for a
moment there, I wondered if you had some kind of agenda. That wasnt fair of me. Youre the one doing
me a favor. He gave me the bad boy looking for forgiveness look, complete with a bowed head and a
cheeky grin. Sorry. Im not always such an asshole. Or at least I try not to be. Youre really kind of
cool, you know?
I did the airhead expression. Well, my pretend boyfriend is Harris Smith. Thats, like, totally worth
double bonus cool points.
Im, like, totally going to steal that character from you. My next job is a voiceover for an animated
film. He mimicked my vacant stare.
Totally cool. Whats the project?
Like, Romeo and Juliet, man, except that the Capulets are cats and the Montagues are dogs. I cant
wait to read the reviewers reaction to Romeo as a surfer dude dog. I made a face. He cracked up.
Okay. Maybe not.
***
So, I hate to ask, but did you like the film? Harris asked when we were at the after party.
We were standing around a swimming pool at a house in the Hollywood Hills with the director and one
of the producers. The pool was designed to look as if the far edge of the water met the sky. Pretty, but
nerve-wracking. I stuck to the patio near the house in case the hillside below it decided to give way, even
though it wasnt mudslide season.
I tore my gaze from the pool. I liked the twists. A few of them kept me fooled up until the end. The
pace was good. No slow spots. Itll do well in the holiday releases. Is it coming out Thanksgiving
weekend?
The producer nodded. Over eight hundred screens. We can get that kind of wide release because the
distributor trusts Harris name.
So you dont think this whole coming out thing will hurt the box office? I asked.
The director cleared his throat. Its a whole new world. People are taking it more in stride than they
used to. Look at what happened when that soap opera didnt let their gay couple have a Christmas kiss
like all the straight couples. The fans protested! He shook his head in wonder. The worlds changing.
Its about time, the producer added.
That answer sounded rehearsed. Harris and I exchanged bemused smiles.
The next thing you know, cats and dogs will be playing Romeo and Juliet. I winked at Harris.
There was a commotion in the house. Everyone looked. I shrank back. The front door hung open at a
weird angle, as if the hinges were broken. Hector stumbled through the guests, who jumped out of his
way. No one needed to see his aura to know he was furious. Even though I tried to hide behind Harris,
he saw me, and staggered out to the pool.
Boy! My face went red as Hector stomped out of the house. Conversations around the pool died. He
grabbed my arm. His aura seethed green and black, and he reeked of whiskey. I saw you kissing him on
TV.
Hey, man, it was just a little peck for the cameras. It didnt mean anything, Harris said.
Hectors eyes narrowed to slits. You stay out of this. His voice slurred and his moves were clumsy.
Hector, go home.
Oh, Ill go home, little Boy, and Im taking you with me. You know what the punishment is for sleeping
around?
People put their heads together and murmured.
I lowered my voice. Stop this, Hector. Youre making a scene.
Ill do anything I want. Im your Master, slave. Get down on your knees and start begging for
forgiveness.
My temper flared. Youre humiliating me, I said through gritted teeth.
Is a kiss all youre giving him, Sam? Or did your editor pimp you out for sex, too?
I turned to Harris. Im sorry about this. Im sorry, everyone. Hes had too much to drink. I bolted into
the house.
Hector chased me through the house and onto the driveway. You dont run away from me, Boy.
I couldnt breath, and my pulse pounded so hard I could feel it behind my eyes. I sincerely wished my
heart would stop, but it wouldnt, and my hell continued. I broke free from Hectors harsh grasp. Not
caring if humans saw it, I phased away.
***
The island was little more than a sandbar, one of millions in the Marianas that were too small for anyone
to live on. It had a few palm trees and some brush, but that was it. I sat on the beach and watched the
waves. Throwing my God power behind it, I cast a spell that would make it impossible for anyone, even
a God, to track me down.
I watched the sun rise; I watched it set; I watched it rise again. Hectors brand blazed for hours on my
ass. I ignored it like I ignored my thirst and hunger. The whole scene by the pool with Hector and Harris
and all those people at the party replayed in an endless loop in my mind, and each time it felt as raw as
the first. In the humid heat of the second day, a blinding headache gave way to a vision of the future, and
it was just as miserable as my present.
I dont even remember thinking much, but when I finally rose and dusted the damp sand off my tux, I
realized that Id reached an important decision.
Chapter 8
Hector was sitting on the couch when I phased into his living room. Decided to stop sulking?
I was amazed at how calm I was. I wasnt sulking. I was thinking. I went over to my computer desk in
the corner.
I summoned you.
I know.
You didnt come.
I nodded. There was no denying it. I unplugged my computer and piled cables on the desktop.
Boy, you better have a good excuse.
Thats when I decided that Id do things the God way instead of the human way. I didnt care how much
power I burned. Sometimes the price was worth it.
I walked over and stood before him. I reached up to my neck. He was wrong about one thing. Hed
told me that no man or God could ever remove his collar. But I could. It was so heavy in my hands. My
neck felt exposed without it on.
Im done.
What?
Im done, Hector. One hard limit. Humiliation. You humiliated me. Thats it. Im done.
I put the collar on the coffee table.
His face was a moving target of emotions. Anger, disbelief, anger, shock, more anger. You better get
down on your knees and start begging for forgiveness, Boy.
That was the last thing I heard before I phased out of there with everything I owned.
Chapter 9
This is where I keep the dishes. And thats where the glasses are. Brett pointed to an upper cabinet in
his condo kitchen.
Thanks for renting me your spare room on such short notice.
Are you kidding?
I expected him to go off on a rant about how hed been trying to talk me into leaving Hector for almost
three years, but to give him credit, he didnt.
What are friends for? Besides, I can use the help paying my mortgage.
I gave him a weak smile.
Im amazed you managed to get everything moved in while I was at work. Brett leaned against the
counter. He didnt know where to put his hands. He seemed almost embarrassed, as if there was a huge
elephant in the room that we were tiptoeing around. He didnt need to be that careful with me. I was
calm, not fragile.
I dont have much.
Brett gave me a look that was almost like old Brett. Except clothes. My God, man. I knew you had a
nice wardrobe, but I never guessed you had so much. And the shoes.
I do have a lot of shoes.
And all that religious crap.
The smile slid right off my face. Those are altars to my Gods, Brett. Not crap.
He opened the fridge, probably to have something to do. Want a beer?
Things were awkward enough, so I played nice. That sounds great. Thanks.
Well, this is your place now, too, so after this, you get your own damn beers. He was joking with me,
but underneath, there was tension. He handed me a bottle. Then he didnt have anything to do, so he
leaned against the counter again. What are your plans?
I took a deep breath. Tomorrow, I call George and make sure I havent been fired.
Bretts shaggy brows drew together. Why would you get fired? You didnt do anything wrong.
Thats never stopped a company before. Its all about image. If they feel Ive damaged theirs, theyll
get rid of me. Dont worry, though. I can still pay my rent. I twisted off the bottle cap and took a sip of
beer. Mind if we sit?
Oh yeah. Sure.
We went around the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. The condo was set up well
for roommates. The living room and kitchen sat in the middle. Bedrooms with separate bathrooms were
on either side of the shared area.
I sat on the couch with my feet under me. He sat in a recliner. He didnt have throw pillows on his
couch. I wished he did.
There didnt seem to be a lot to say. I cleared my throat. I guess I need to buy a bed. Ill do that
tomorrow, too. And go to the market. If you need anything, let me know.
Im good, Sam.
I suddenly realized what it felt like being there with Brett. It was like a funeral. Everyone on their best
behavior, saying nice things, wishing they werent there, wondering when the sadness would lift.
But how are you doing? He leaned forward, his melancholy, gray eyes full of care.
Definitely a funeral.
Good as can be expected. Still in shock. Trying to sort things out. But Im hanging in there.
If theres anything you need
He was going to pat my hand and offer me a white hanky. I just knew it. Instead, he put his hand on my
knee and squeezed it. It rested there for a bit, and then moved up my thigh. Was he making a move on
me? Sheesh. The corpse was still warm. I tried not to make it too obvious, but I moved away from him.
Hey, Joey called earlier and said he might stop by. Do you feel like company? Brett asked, suddenly
cheerful in a brisk, fifties-housewife kind of way.
I left my boyfriend. I didnt get diagnosed with terminal cancer. Tell him to pick up some Indian food
and more beer. I havent apologized to Harris yet for ruining his premier. Ill be lucky if he takes my call.
Ill be in my room. I stood up.
Brett seemed even more embarrassed. Sam, I hate to ask this, but youre not going to do anything, are
you?
Do?
Attempt suicide?
I guess I had that one coming to me. Here I thought the elephant in the room was Hector, and it turned
out to be my past instead. I grinned grimly. Hadnt crossed my mind. Thanks for asking.
***
The first couple days hurt like hell, but even then I guess I was numb, because at the end of the week, a
sledgehammer of grief knocked me down. I knew I wasnt depressed, because it didnt feel the same as
my bouts of depression, but the sadness was bad enough.
I couldnt get comfortable in my bed. I fluffed the pillow. I tried being on my left side, but that reminded
me that Hector wasnt spooned against me, so I turned to my right. That wasnt any better. Maybe I was
too used to being shackled and couldnt sleep with my hands free. The idea of shackling myself was too
stupid, so I didnt.
Yeah, the sadness was bad, but what kept me up all night was the doubt. Could I have handled it
differently? Did I overreact? Hector always said I overreacted to everything. He used to call me a drama
queen. I didnt feel like one. But maybe I should have talked it through with him. Maybe I should have
given him another chance.
My mind simply wouldnt shut up and let me fall asleep. I stared at the ceiling. I could hear traffic on
Pacific Avenue.
I sat up and turned on the lamp beside my bed. Near the door, Id set up my computer desk. I went
over to it, took a sheet of paper from the printer, grabbed a blue pen, and wrote You did the right thing
on it in block letters. I shaded the letters in with quick scribbles. Then I stapled the piece of paper to the
wall where I could see it from the bed.
There. My own little affirmation poster.
It was silly, but it worked. I finally fell asleep.
***
My therapists office was an affront to interior designers everywhere. Id never noticed before how the
ugliness assaulted my senses. Or maybe I was just in a bad mood. It had been a rough week. The leather
couch slowly hissed air when I sat on it. The deflation continued until I felt as if the cushion would
swallow me whole.
My therapist sat opposite me on a similar couch. You missed last weeks session.
Something came up. Before he could purse his lips or make some dry statement like an academic
coughing up a hairball, I laid it out there. I left Hector.
I see. I didnt think he did, or at least he hadnt seen it coming, because it took him a long time to
react. How do you feel about that?
Like shit.
He almost smiled. His thin upper lip disappeared when he did that. Lets back up. What were your
feelings that led you to make that decision?
My feelings then are sort of irrelevant, dont you think? Whats done is done. Now I have to figure out
to how to live with my decision. My brain knows I did the right thing, but my heart is being a big pussy
and waffling. All I want to do is get my brain and my heart in agreement so theyll stop torturing me at
night when Im trying to sleep.
Are you having problems sleeping?
Did he listen to anything I said? Uh, yeah.
Hows your appetite?
I shrugged. I eat. Sometimes. Enough to keep going. Brett makes sure I eat dinner.
And Brett is?
A friend. Im renting a room from him. I figured Id save the discussion about Brett for another
session. Maybe I was imagining it, but it seemed to me that Brett was awfully
touchy-feely-grabby-gropey since Id moved in.
My therapist wrote something down. He shook his pen. His hand darted to the cup of pens on his desk,
nabbed one, and darted back behind his notebook. I could hear the scratch of each letter.
Good. Now, lets go back to the point where you decided to leave Hector.
Gods. Some people obsessed on the stupidest things.
At the end of my session, my therapist grabbed a card from his desk and wrote something on it before
handing it to me. With your history of depression, Sam, I want you to consider going back on
antidepressants.
I shook my head. Pills? I have a bad history with pills, as you know.
My mobile phone number is on that card. If you start to feel the symptoms of depression, have suicidal
thoughts, or even just think you might be in trouble, I want you to call me right away. I dont care if its
the middle of the night. Call me. He thrust the card at me.
Do you think Im in real trouble here?
No. But things can change fast. Watch your drinking. I know you dont usually drink all that much, but
try to limit yourself to two if youre out with friends, and try not to drink when youre alone.
Youre spooking me.
Im not trying to, Sam. Im just being proactive.
Maybe so, but I left his office a lot less confident than when I walked in.
***
Everyone took pity on me. Brett fondled; Joey humored. Alberto flirted. Harris Smith took my call and
accepted my apologies with style. He even asked me to accompany him to an AIDS fundraiser at the
end of the month. Angelena and I took a daytrip up the coast to Santa Barbara on our motorcycles. The
God of Misery, that skulking, cat-like mist creature, slept at the foot of my bed. George acted as if
nothing had happened. I had my job, my friends, a hotline to my therapist, and the worlds creepiest pet.
Of course I was a wreck.
I felt as if everyone watched me. What were they waiting for? Total breakdown? For me to crawl back
to Hector? Oh, believe me, I thought about it. I convinced myself that it wasnt that bad with him.
Truthfully, it wasnt. If he hadnt humiliated me in front of everyone, we still would have been together.
That was the problem, though. No matter how much I mind fucked myself over it, I couldnt convince
myself that it was my fault. Score one for my stubborn streak.
About two weeks after I removed Hectors collar, I decided I was sick of the hushed tones and
sympathy. The kid glove treatment grated on my nerves. What I needed was to talk to someone who
wasnt afraid to rough me up a little. So I called Ophir.
Four hours later, I was at his door. It amazed me when he opened it himself.
He answered my unspoken question. I gave the boys the night off. He stood back from the door and
let me in.
Uncertain, I paused in the foyer.
Ophir smiled. Youre here as my guest, Sam, not as a boy. Theres no need to strip. Come to the
kitchen. Im afraid were dining informally tonight. I dont have Number Ones cooking skills.
It didnt seem right, but I sat at the table in the breakfast nook while Ophir fussed over the stove.
Whatever he was cooking, it smelled great. For the first time in weeks, I was hungry.
Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink? I have iced tea, soda, beer, and wine.
Iced tea would be great, Sir.
Sugar?
Yeah. It felt so wrong to have a Master waiting on me.
A couple minutes later, Ophir slid a plate in front of me. I hope you like hamburgers. I sprinkled some
blue cheese on top.
He had no reason to apologize for his cooking skills. It was probably the best burger Id ever eaten. He
cut his in half and nibbled at it while I chowed down. Meat juices dribbled down my chin when I bit into
the thick patty. I licked them away.
Realizing he was watching, I ducked my head. Sorry, Sir.
Dont be. He sipped his wine.
Thanks for having me over.
I was glad you called. He leaned back in his seat. Sam, Ive known you for how long? Five years
now?
About that.
Ill admit that I didnt think much of you when you first started coming here. Oh, certainly you were the
most beautiful boy Id ever seen, but it takes much more than physical beauty to make a good
submissive. Your capacity for pain scared away a few potential Masters, I think, and it concerned me,
but you seemed to handle yourself well. At one point I almost offered you a position here in my house.
Oh? I never thought he noticed me.
He smiled. You are tempting.
I hoped the conversation wasnt going to go anywhere down that track. Since I'd left Hector, I had no
sex drive, and I sure as hell wasnt in any shape emotionally to get involved with anyone.
Then that Marcus fellow tried to kill you. I knew he was bad news. I always regretted not stepping in
sooner.
I wouldnt have listened. The burger was gone, but I was still hungry, so I helped myself to the salad
hed put out.
Ophir nodded. Perhaps not. After that, I kept tabs on you, hoping youd decide to come back. I still
thought, perhaps, that you might be happy here.
It made me blush a little to know hed been that concerned about me. I probably would have been.
But Hector found you first. I think I was relieved. I wasnt sure I had the ability to help you, but I knew
he did.
My throat was suddenly dry at the mention of Hectors name.
Hector is a remarkable man. A wonderful Master. But, like all people, he isnt perfect. His jealous
rages eventually made me leave him, despite what he might have told you, Ophir said.
He said that you wanted to explore your top side.
Ophir laughed. He would say that, but he has the timeline backwards. I should call him and remind him
how it really happened. As I said, hes a wonderful Master, so good that I switched to a topman because
I finally realized Id never find another Master who measured up. But I left him because I couldnt take
the suspicion and rages anymore. I assume thats why you finally left.
You didnt hear what happened? Id been so focused on that humiliating scene that I assumed
everyone knew about it.
Hector wont talk about you. Not even to me. I found out youd left him almost by accident.
So he hates me. If he thought Id been cheating on him, I guess that was to be expected.
Hate? Ophir seemed confused by the word. No, Sam, he said softly.
A tear welled up at the corner of my eye. I know I asked if I could come over to talk, but I dont think
I can.
Its too soon. I understand. But let me ask you this. Do you hate him?
He humiliated me in front of a crowd of people.
But do you hate him?
I looked around the kitchen. Hector always said I only submitted when I felt like it. Maybe I should
have tried harder.
You would have bored him. There are worlds of difference between what we fantasize about and what
we can live with day in and out. He had boys who gave him them their will. Within a month, hed moved
on. I put up a fight every time, as did you, and look at who among his boys he loves still.
Our conversation kept dead-ending into painful places. I scratched my arm as I gazed out the bay
window at the garden. My foot tapped on the kitchen floor. How did you find out I left him?
Ophir slid his fingers up the thin stem of his wine glass. Number One saw him in the market. His cart
was filled with cans of ravioli.
***
Except for Hector, I hadnt had a roommate since college, so I wasnt used to sharing my living space
with a guy I wasnt sleeping with. Thats why I wasnt sure what to do when Brett plopped down next to
me on the couch and asked me if it would bother me if he turned on the TV. I was reading, but I
shrugged. It was his place. But when he started the movie and it was porn, I got uneasy. I hoped he
didnt start touching me again.
Brett laughed at my expression. I never figured you for a prude, Sam.
That didnt even merit a reply.
I sort of watched the porn, because it had been a while since Id been turned on, but the guys were all
waxed and buff and too young for my taste. I caught myself looking at the set design. Brett, though, he
was really getting into it. He shoved down the waistband of his shorts and started jerking off. Was I
uptight, or was that kind of gross? Even worse, he kept glancing over to see if I was watching him. Of
course I looked. Who wouldnt? He wasnt completely hard. Maybe the porn wasnt doing it for him,
either.
My mind wandered. Should I leave? Would he be pissed off if I did? Did I care if he was? Did we have
to share that much as roommates? As I thought about that, I realized that Hectors brand was heated up
on my ass. Oops. I wasnt allowed to watch porn. But wait. He wasnt my Master anymore. He couldnt
punish me for watching it even if he caught me. But wait again. If he wasnt my Master anymore, why the
hell was he summoning me? What the hell did Hector think he was doing?
Brett paused mid-stroke. Youre so goddamn twitchy.
Furious at Hector, I told Brett, I have to make a phone call.
All of a sudden?
Yep.
Brett muttered something and shoved his dick back into his shorts.
I headed for my room. Only I didnt call. I phased over to Hectors.
***
Hector was sitting in his poppa chair. It looked as if he hadnt shaved for a couple days. Under the
bristly beard, his skin was dull and puffy. He held a high ball glass. From the droop of his eyes, it had
been filled a few times. His collar sat on his knee. The house smelled wrong, like sickness.
What the hell do you think youre doing, Hector?
Dont you use that tone of voice with me, Boy.
Okay, so maybe it wasnt cool to shout at him in his house. I tried to get my temper under control. It
wasnt easy seeing him. His pallor worried me. I never wanted to talk to him again.
The brand on my butt heated up again. Knock it off.
Ive been more than patient with you, but its time for this temper tantrum to end, Boy.
He didnt get it. Id been gone almost three weeks, and he thought I was off sulking that entire time. He
just didnt get it. It was my chance to make it all go away. I could come back to him. I could plead guilty
to sulking and take my punishment and all of that horrible nothingness in the pit of my stomach would go
away. But then he would think it was okay to humiliate me like that. I just couldnt take it.
Hector, listen to me. Look at that collar in your hand. Im pretty sure you know what it means when a
slave removes his Masters collar. Im not coming back.
Instead of erupting in anger like I expected, he smiled at me as if I were a dimwitted child. I understand
that you got upset and wanted to make a point, but its time to stop fooling around. Hed given up on
angry Master and was trying his stern Papi voice on me.
Im not playing. I exhaled slowly as I tried to keep the tremble out of my voice. And I think thats all I
plan on saying, so Ill be going.
His smile faded. Now, Sam--
I held up my hand. This isnt a discussion.
Something finally got through to him. I could see it cutting through the whisky fogbank in his brain. He
winced, as if it hurt to finally see what hed been denying since I left.
He rose carefully and turned his sexy smile on me as he reached out. Come on, Baby. Dont be like
that.
What? He was going to try to seduce me? Oh sure, I always fell for it before, but that was before. I
smacked his hand away and stepped back.
Dont fucking touch me. And dont summon me again. I wont answer.
He still thought he was humoring me. Sam, you dont mean that.
I did.
He shook his head slowly. No. His lips trembled.
I could barely look at him.
Honey, I never hit you, he whispered. Im working on the rest. You know I am. You have to give me
credit for that.
I closed my eyes for a moment. I was going to crumble, but I couldnt.
Baby? A fat tear slid down his cheek as his hands reached for me, begged me, fell short of touching
me.
Maybe you never hit me, Hector, but you never trusted me, either.
Maybe it was cowardly of me to hurt him like that and leave, but I couldnt take it anymore. I phased
back to my bedroom at Bretts and sank onto the floor with my back against the wall. I crossed my arms
over my knees and rested my head on them.
The God of Misery jumped off the bed and crawled into my lap.
Chapter 10
After screening a film in Culver City, I decided to fool around a bit before I went back to Bretts place.
There were too many hours in a day, and I no longer had chores to fill them. Nothing seemed interesting
until I wandered into a farmers market. Next thing I knew, I had bags of produce clutched in both hands
and visions of a great dinner dancing in my head. Then I remembered I couldnt carry all those bags on
my motorcycle.
Sometimes, being a God rocked. I phased the stuff to the kitchen, then rode back to Long Beach.
Brett came home to a cooking frenzy. I had every burner on the stovetop going. The kitchen was a
grand mess. He set the mail down and checked out all the dishes lined up on the countertop that
separated the kitchen from the living room. Sam, itll take us a week to eat all this!
I peered into the oven. Not to worry. I invited Angelena and Deal over. We always have dinner on
Wednesdays, at least we try to. Then it dawned on me that maybe I shouldnt have done that. Im
sorry. Im not used to having a roommate. I should have asked you first. Is it okay if they come over?
Bretts nose crinkled. Im not your goddamn master, Sam. You dont have to beg me for anything. If
you want friends over, invite them over. This is your home, too.
Wiping my hands on the towel tucked into the waistband of my jeans, I turned to face him. I always
seem to be breaking some unwritten law. Youre always pissed off at me about something. So I wanted
to be sure.
Quit asking my permission every time you want to do something. Youre not a slave boy anymore.
Are you going to join us for dinner?
Brett came into the kitchen and bent down in front of the stainless steel oven. Is that pot roast? He
closed his eyes and inhaled. Im in.
***
Bretts mood improved even more when Alberto showed up with Deal and Angelena. My mood went in
the opposite direction. It felt as if everywhere I turned, Alberto was there. The way he invited himself
over bothered me. He never asked.
Angelena kissed my cheek and murmured something about me looking great. Even Deal was gentle.
After Bretts speech about how I wasnt anyones slave boy, it sort of cracked me up that he planted
himself in the chair next to Alberto and let me bring everything to the table. I guessed I should have been
grateful that Alberto came. He saved it from being a somber evening. It was as if he was oblivious to how
subdued everyone else was, but no one had the heart to quench his spirit even when it made the rest of
us a little uncomfortable.
This reminds me of my mothers cooking, Sam. She loves to feed everyone, Alberto said.
Its something to do, I told him.
Great pot roast, Sam. Angelena took a bite.
Albertos eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned over the table and gazed at Deal. Do you know
what Sam said about you when we first met? He said you were frightening! He clapped, as if hed said
something very clever.
Thanks the Gods, Deal smiled. She slowly put down her drink. Am I?
Maybe, but in a very sexy way.
Brett snorted.
I like blondes. So cool. So aloof. But underneath? Alberto wriggled his eyebrows. Passion!
I could feel the undercurrent of sex between them. Even though she was, as he said, cool and aloof on
the surface, he definitely had her attention. I didnt blame her. As annoying as he was, Alberto was a hot
little number. The problem was that he knew it.
Sometimes, underneath is solid ice, Deal said. Then she turned her attention to Angelena and ignored
Alberto.
He tried so hard to get her to respond to him, but she shut him out. It was at odds with the signals I
caught. It took me a while to register what she was doing. Like a Master, she was putting Alberto in his
place.
Pouting, Alberto turned his attention to Brett. Brett, of course, ate it up. Poor guy. He had no clue what
was really going on. The more Deal ignored Alberto, the more outrageously Alberto flirted with Brett.
Angelena and I exchanged amused, resigned glances over the table while we ate in silence.
Sam has another date with Harris Smith, Alberto said. My plan to make him famous is working.
That remark went right over the head of the only human at the table. Only the Gods understood what he
meant.
Alberto, Ive told you, I have no interest in fame. I scowled at him, but he laughed it off.
You say that now, but youll thank me.
Wait, how can you make Sam famous? Brett asked.
Alberto mimicked taking pictures.
I dont understand how that will make him famous.
His picture will appear everywhere. People will ask, Who is that sexy man? The buzz will grow, and
more magazines will demand pictures of him. Hell be famous for being famous.
Whether I want it or not, I grumbled. I dont like having my picture taken.
If youre out in public, youre fair game, Alberto said. He still grinned, but there was a warning in his
words.
While Im all for fame, and how it can be wielded as a weapon in this town, I dont think its right to
force Sam into the spotlight if he doesnt want it, Deal said.
Thank you, Deal. It always surprised me when she defended me.
Alberto drew himself up and got cocky. No one can stop me from doing what I do best.
Deal pursed her lips. Someone should spank your ass, boy. Hard.
He grinned at her. The sex vibe jumped into high gear. Would you? Would you put me over your lap
and spank this naughty boy? He stood up and wriggled his fine butt. The sassy expression on his face
just begged to be smacked away.
Oh geez, not another one! Brett said. Isnt anyone into normal sex anymore?
Speaking of which, Angelena said quietly. She nodded toward my bedroom. I was confused when she
rose and even more confused when she and Deal exchanged a look that could only be described as terse
agreement.
I followed her to my bedroom.
Angelena shut the door. She looked a little nervous. When a motorcycle cop suddenly couldnt look me
in the eye, my curiosity pegged on high.
Sam. Her smile came and went quickly. It seemed as if she was about to say something, but she
smiled again. Sam, I know its bad manners for one God to interfere with another God.
More than bad manners, Id say.
Her hands rubbed together. I dont know if you know this, but I met an emergency room nurse. Weve
been dating for a couple weeks now.
Thats great!
Sheila is wonderful. But you see. She sighed. How shall I put this? When the God of Sex shuts down,
it sort of kills it for everyone else. Normally, I wouldnt think of saying anything to you, but its been three
weeks, and we sort of want to Angelena huffed. Damn it, Sam. Jerk off or something. Please. If not
for yourself, do it for the rest of the world. Do it for me. Im begging you. Prime the sex pump and get it
flowing again, before I go insane. Okay?
Understanding dawned. Oh.
Oh, he says. Oh. Havent you been paying attention to the pleading prayers winging to you?
Sort of. Not really. Ive been preoccupied.
She put her hand on my shoulder. Im sorry about that, Sam. I really am. And like I said, normally, I
wouldnt interfere, but someone had to say something to you.
I nodded. Sorry. Hector-- I gulped. He always said I was selfish.
Angelena harrumphed. Hector is a moron.
He is not.
Okay. Sometimes Hector is a moron. And he isnt always right. But in this case, maybe you should pay
attention to whats going on in the world around you.
I nodded.
She squeezed my shoulder. Thats what I like to hear. Now, I hate to be pushy, but Im seeing Shelia
when she gets off her shift tonight. Deal and I will take care of the dinner dishes. She shoved something
into my hand. You have divine business to attend to.
I looked down at what shed given me. For the first time since Id left Hector, I laughed. Gods, I adored
Angelena. Only she would have the guts to give me marching orders, and a bottle of lube to help me
carry them out.
***
As hard as I tried, I couldnt seem to get off. Every time I got going, I visualized Hector, and I had to
stop. I tried to envision an orgy. Been there, done that, wasnt really my scene. How about Ophir? No. I
respected him, but wed gone past the point where wed ever make good lovers. I sighed. Maybe a
dungeon scene with a Master who wore a mask? My cock started to harden a little.
Shackle my wrists and ankles to a padded bench and whip me until I howled. Yep. That worked. Show
me no mercy. Use a crop on my balls and cock. Make me writhe. Mmm. Yes. Come out of the shadows
and -- damn it. Even with a mask on, it was still Hector.
Fuck it, I said aloud.
I leaned back on my bed and closed my eyes. So what if I fantasized about Hector? I gripped my cock.
Damn him anyway. It wasnt as if I had to confess my dirty little secrets to anyone anymore.
I imagined him finding out that I was wanking. Hed be angry with me. Oh yeah. Hed come bursting
through my bedroom door and catch me with my hand working my cock. Yeah. Big hulking angry
Daddy. Id smirk at him. Hed grab me, turn me over, yank down my pants to bare my ass, and pull out
his belt. That worked.
My fist worked fast over my hard on.
No. Better yet, hed grab a paddle and take it to my ass. Hed call me a filthy boy. Oh yeah. Harder,
Hector, harder. Make me howl. Tell me what a slut I am. Hold my head down and growl at me to get my
ass up so you can spank my bottom until its bruised.
That worked.
Force the butt plug into me and turn it on high while you cane me. Make me bend over the bed.
I tensed and shot quickly.
For a long time, I sat there and watched my come ooze down over my fist. I really needed a new wank
fantasy, something that didnt make me feel so lonely afterward.
***
When the limo Harris and I were in pulled up to the hotel, my palms were sweating. Maybe no one in
Long Beach had heard about how Hector had humiliated me at Harris premier, but I was pretty sure
everyone in the ballroom at the AIDS fundraiser had. Hollywood was a very small town in some ways,
and gossip traveled at the speed of light.
Harris grinned at me. Hey. Are you ready?
I groaned when I saw the paparazzi. No. But lets get it over with. This time, if they ask us to kiss for
the cameras, lets show them some tongue.
Harris pretended he was horrified. Quickly, his expression turned serious. Im sorry about that. If Id
known your boyfriend would flip, I wouldnt have done it. You warned me he was the jealous type.
I winced. Dont worry about it.
But it made you two break up.
I looked out the darkened window. It wasnt your fault. It wasnt my fault. That was something I told
myself almost every day.
A security guard reached for the door.
Ready to play queer poster boy? Harris asked.
As ready as Ill ever be.
The limo door opened. Harris got out, and I followed. There were no cheering crowds this time, and no
TV. There wasnt even a red carpet. The ever-present pack of paparazzi was bad enough, especially
since Alberto was among them. It was to the point where I dreaded seeing him.
Come on, Sam, show us a real smile. That wasnt Alberto. It was a different photographer. I was
amazed that he knew my name.
Harris moved closer and took my hand. I played nice and smiled for the cameras. Flashes popped off in
a barrage of brilliant white light.
Work it, Sam.
At what point did I resign myself to having my picture taken? I couldnt remember the turning point. So
much had changed.
A familiar but unwelcome feeling crept over me. Someone was radiating lust. My hand went to my neck,
and I realized that my bowtie had somehow unraveled and the top button of my shirt was open.
Checking my hair, I ran my hand over my unruly curls. The photographers went wild. Damn it. I should
have known how that would look. Lust hit me from several angles. Yep. You could dress the God of Sex
up, but you couldnt make him look respectable.
Harris tugged on my hand.
We went inside the hotel lobby.
The worst is over, Sam. You can breathe again.
Was I that obvious?
I get the feeling its like torture for you. Youre really pretty shy, arent you? he asked.
Im getting better about it, but its always a struggle. I took the dangling ends of my bowtie and tried to
make a loop.
Let me help you with that.
I lifted my chin as he fixed my bowtie. More flashes went off in my peripheral vision. I glanced over.
Alberto gave me a thumbs up sign, his grin huge. Great.
***
As fundraisers went, it wasnt the most boring one Id ever been to. The speakers blah, blah, blahed for
a bit as they brought up rich people for their photo ops, and the food was typical awards banquet chow,
but there was some cool stuff at the silent auction and the DJ was awesome. If people knew about what
happened at Harris premier, they didnt show it, at least not to my face. I didnt feel pity or ridicule,
though. Mostly it was curiosity, attraction, and envy that radiated from the crowd. Plunged into a group
of gay men, I was surrounded by flattering attention that felt really good. Maybe it felt too good. After
almost a month without a twinge of interest, my libido came roaring back to life.
Harris got me out on the floor for one slow dance. It was just like in the movies. A small space cleared
around us, and people watched or took pictures. All we needed was a spotlight shining down on us.
It was the first time Id touched a man in a month. I hadnt realized how starved I was for contact, even
if it didnt mean anything. Leaning close, I breathed in his scent. His arms were around me. Gods, it felt
good to be held.
Despite what my therapist had told me about drinking, I had a bit to drink. I wasnt drunk, but relaxed
with a pleasant buzz. That was my excuse. That and the fact that I felt alive for the first time since Id
walked out on Hector. Id been feeding on worship for three hours and it seared through my blood. So
when Harris and I got in the limo at the end of the party, and he slumped close to me, was it my fault that
I put my hand on his cheek and stared into his eyes? He didnt say anything. So I bent down and kissed
him.
Fueled by the energy coursing through me, it wasnt just any kiss. I kissed him like he was Hector. I
poured my hunger into him, my hands gliding over him, my tongue delving deep into his open mouth.
Harris pushed me back. Im gonna nut if you keep going. He shifted away from me. Sam, we need to
talk.
Sorry.
He exhaled. Damn, do you know how to kiss. And if I could, Id be into you. Really. Youre gorgeous,
sexy as hell, and youre a fun guy to hang with.
Why was I relieved that I was about to get dumped?
I met someone, Harris said shyly.
Then why did you let me kiss you?
Well, youre the hottest guy Ive ever seen, and I thought Id regret it forever if I didnt at least find out
what it was like to kiss you. Ive never been kissed like that. That was pretty damn hot.
If he hadnt seemed so embarrassed, I would have been a little angry with him.
Besides, Chuck and I had a bet. I said youd turn out to be a lousy kisser. He said you could probably
melt my socks off. I dont know how glad hell be that he won, though. I think Ill leave out the part
where you almost made me come. Damn. He shook his head. Its like youre on a whole other plane of
kissing from us mere mortals.
If he only knew how close to the truth he was, hed never believe it, so I just smiled.
The new guys name is Chuck? Why arent you bringing Chuck to these things instead of me? I asked.
Harris looked charmingly abashed. We just met a couple weeks ago. You know what kind of scrutiny
my life is under. I wanted to give us a chance before I subjected him to the jackals. Its not fair to do that
to someone.
But its okay to do it to me? I joked.
But youre already in the public eye, Sam. Its just more of the same for you. Hes just some normal
guy who happens to be dating an actor. Hes not glitz and glamour. Hes an everyday Joe.
The message Chucks probably getting is that youre ashamed of him. Or at least, thats how Id take it
if my boyfriend tried to hide me.
Frowning, Harris picked at his pants leg. He was a little cold when I called him today.
Then tell him you fired me, and ask him if hes willing to be seen in public with you. Flowers wouldnt
hurt. Of course, I totally suck at relationships, so maybe you should ignore everything I say.
So well still be cool?
Well be even cooler if you drag Chuck to these things instead of me.
He laughed. You really dont play the fame game, do you?
Im trying not to.
Chapter 11
When grief hit, I wasnt expecting it. I thought too much time had passed and that I was already on my
way to okay. My therapist, however, didnt seem shocked at all when I called him late one night and
admitted that I could barely drag myself out of bed.
I dont understand. I was doing fine. I already went through the sad stuff.
You were in shock, Sam. A couple days of crying might have relieved the surface pain, but this is going
to be an ongoing process. The deeper pain was there, you were just too numb to feel it. Now are you
willing to try the antidepressants?
I cant work, I cant eat, and I cant sleep. Ill give anything a shot at this point.
Good. Ill call in a prescription for you. Can you get dressed and make it down to the pharmacy?
I thought about that. Honestly, no. Just talking to you on the phone is exhausting me. Maybe Brett can
pick it up for me?
Hes your roommate, right? If he will, that would be great. Start taking them right away. It will take
some time for them to work, so be patient, Sam. And Ill see you on Thursday.
I had two days to get into the shower and get dressed. Right then, it felt like an impossible task.
***
Marcus was after me. He was so old and thin that he looked like a skeleton held together by a covering
of spotty skin. His hair hung in lank wisps around his skull face. Only his eyes were alive. And yet, no
matter how fast I ran, he kept up.
Scrambling up an earthen embankment, I headed for the woods. Tree branches smacked my face. My
clothes caught in the brush, holding me back. I frantically tore at my shirt. Marcus was coming. He was
going to get me.
Then I was in the clearing on my parents farm. The ring where the bonfire had been at Beltane was
overgrown. I saw the altar across the low meadow. If I could only reach it, Id be safe. I sprinted for the
big, stone table. Something clutched my wrist. Long, ragged fingernails dug into my flesh, burning it. I
howled.
Sam!
I opened my eyes. My bedroom light was on. Brett stood over me, his hair and eyes wild. I knew I was
awake, but I couldnt shake the nightmare. Marcus! Hes coming!
You were screaming again, Sam.
My heart felt as if it would pound out of my chest. I sat up. Im sorry.
You scared the shit out of me.
Im sorry.
Brett sat on the edge of my mattress. No wonder Joey wouldnt let you move in with him. He knew
better.
As I remembered it, Brett jumped at the chance to offer me a room and didnt let Joey get in a word
edgewise until I accepted, but maybe he was right. Im sorry.
I wonder how Hector put up with you as long as he did. As soon as he said it, Brett realized he
shouldnt have, but it was too late. The words slipped between my ribs and stabbed my heart. He shook
his head, his face a picture of dismay. I didnt mean that. Its the middle of the night, and I got suddenly
woken up in a panic when I heard you screaming. Im grumpy. Please dont listen to me. I didnt mean
it.
Sorry.
Sam, I love you, but frankly, youre driving me nuts. You never stop moving. Youre like a bundle of
nervous energy, and its setting my teeth on edge. Youre a wonderful cook, but you make these huge
dinners that can feed an army, and theres no space for them in the fridge. I cant leave anything lying
around without you cleaning it up. I feel like Im at my great aunts house and have to be on my best
behavior every second. This is my place. I want to relax. I want a little bit of messy.
Was that something I was supposed to listen to or not?
***
It was funny how active my mind was at night, because during the day, it felt as if I was trying to think
through a fog. I could get out of bed. I could take a shower, although sometimes I jolted out of a
nebulous cloud of nothing and was surprised that water was spraying into my face. I mean, I could
remember getting into the shower and turning on the water, but it seemed like the two werent connected,
as if everything up to that moment was from a long ago memory.
It was a good thing my November and December movie reviews were already finished, because there
were a ton of releases coming up for the Thanksgiving weekend, and in my state, there was no way I
could have followed a whole film, much less written about it.
Brett paced while I gelled on the couch. He wanted a calm roommate? I was so calm I was almost
catatonic. He wanted to a messy place? I hadnt cleaned in days. He was tired of my cooking? I was
living off ramen noodles and air.
He went into the kitchen. I have to talk to you.
For a moment, I thought he was talking to me, but it made no sense that he left the room when hed
been right in front of me. Then I realized he was on the phone. I didnt try to eavesdrop, but he didnt
exactly keep his voice down.
I dont know what to do anymore. He screams bloody murder in the middle of the night. He almost
punched me last time, until he woke up enough to realize it was me, and even then, it was like his eyes
were open but he was still in the grip of the dream. Nothing he said made sense. Gods and ghosts. Shit
like that, Brett said.
I thought about going to my bedroom to give him some privacy, but all I could do was think about it.
Now hes like a zombie. You cant even have a conversation with him. He loses track, and his eyes
glaze over, and ten minutes later hell focus again and blink and say, What? You know I wouldnt have
called you, but Im desperate. I cant deal with him anymore. Just tell me what to do. There was a long
pause. I wondered if Id lost track of time again. Do you have his number? Will he talk to me? Hold
on.
Drawers and cabinets in the kitchen yanked open and slammed shut.
Okay. Whats the number?
There was another long silence.
Thank you, Brett said softly. I didnt know who else to turn to. Thank you.
It would have been more polite if I at least acted like I wasnt listening in to his phone call, so I looked
for the TV remote. It was way across the room. It might as well have been miles away. Besides, the God
of Misery was curled up in my lap and sleeping so peacefully that I hated to move.
Dr. Thornton? Thanks for taking my call. Im Sam Deweys roommate, Brett. We have a serious
problem. Brett repeated everything hed told the first caller, except that he made it sound more like a
formal report. He said Uh-huh and No a lot. Mostly, he was quiet.
I sort of lost track after that. The next thing I knew, Brett was kneeling in front of me.
Okay, Sam, I talked to your doctor. Apparently, nightmares and being turned into a zombie are
common side effects of the pills he put you on. You think hed warn people about that. Anyway, he
wants you off the pills, and hed like to see you tomorrow. I cant take a day off work. Neither can Joey.
Alberto said hed drive you. Okay?
Im sorry.
Brett bowed his head. I know this is shitty timing, and a terrible thing to say, but you need to start
looking for another place to stay. I understand if you hate me. But I just cant handle this, Sam. You need
someone to watch over you, and I dont have the time. Im in way over my head here. He turned his
melancholy, gray eyes up to me. I have to do this.
***
We could change your prescription, my therapist told me.
We sat opposite each other on his leather couches.
No more pills. I dont mind pain.
He almost smiled at that. You said that your friend asked you to move out. Have you thought of where
you might go?
Im not looking that far ahead. All I want to do is get back to functioning normally, or at least whats
normal for me. Then Ill think about my options.
He nodded. The holidays are coming up. Thats a difficult time of year for many people.
Ophir, a friend, invited me over to his place for Thanksgiving. He promised it would be quiet, and I
believe him.
Have you thought about spending some time with family? Familiar surroundings may be good for you.
I laughed. My family? I love them, but they would drive me nuts. I may go see them for Christmas, but I
have to be in Palm Springs for the Film Festival right after New Years. And immediately following that is
Sundance, and the G-G-Golden Globes.
His eyebrow crooked up. Still stuttering over that word. He made notes.
Ive been dreading doing the pre-show ever since the magazine hired me.
Have you tried talking to them about your concerns?
I had dinner with my editor when I was in Toronto. I think I made it clear that if he put me on TV, it
would be a huge disaster.
What did he say?
If I remember right, he made a pass at me. It was a long time ago.
Two months.
My forehead furrowed. No. Its been much longer than that, hasnt it? I counted out the weeks on my
fingers. I guess so. Huh. I guess time flies when youre miserable.
Speaking of time, he checked his watch. Im sorry, but our time is up. Id like for you to think about
going to three sessions a week.
Im that fucked up?
If you refuse to take medication, were going to have to work through this another way.
***
Alberto jumped to his feet when I came out of my therapists office. Okay? He wriggled around like
an excited puppy.
Yeah. I dont know if its the pills wearing off or what, but I actually feel a little better.
We headed down the stairs. Alberto pushed ahead of me on the narrow stairs and lunged out the door.
Alberto? I shoved open the door. Bright lights went off. I put my hand up to protect my eyes.
People taking my picture? What the hell? I was too stunned to move.
Alberto brought his little car around to the curb. My hands still in front of my face, I jumped in and
slammed the door.
Go, go go! I shouted as the paparazzi started to surround the car.
He rolled forward slowly.
I reached behind me for the seatbelt. Dodging low, I tried to see if any photographers were in pursuit.
What the fuck was that about?
Alberto pulled out of the parking lot. Think about the headline. Dumped by Harris Smith, sex god
movie critic Sam Dewey has breakdown, commits himself to mental hospital. He actually grinned as he
did jazz hands to emphasize each word.
What? That isnt what happened.
Youre famous now. People want to read about you.
Stop the car.
Oh, come on, Sam. Do you have any idea how many magazines bought that picture of Harris fixing
your bow tie at the AIDS fundraiser? Of course, in my shot it looked like he was untying it. Very hot. I
made a fortune.
Stop the car.
Alberto pouted. Youre angry with me?
How many times have I told you that I dont want to be famous? I shouted.
Come on. Everyone wants to be famous.
Not me. I couldnt even tell Hector that I had a problem with depression. Do you think I want the
whole world to know?
He got prissy. I did you a favor. Do you have any idea how many people pray to me for just the tiniest
bit of recognition? Millions. And I give it to you for free. You should be thanking me.
I should be spanking you, you brat.
His wide grin was a thing of beauty, but I was immune to his charm. Would you?
No. You need it, no doubt. But if anyone ever gives you the punishment you deserve, it wont be me.
You can be sure of that.
Be careful, Sam. I can take away fame as easily as I can give it.
Take it away! Please! I dont want it, and I dont need it.
Alberto slammed back in his seat, pouting. Sometimes, youre no fun at all.
Chapter 12
Ophir sat at one end of his long, formal dining table, and I sat all the way at the other. Even though his
slave boys were home, they didnt join us.
Im not partial to turkey, but the boys feel cheated when they dont have it, so I allowed them to serve
turkey this year, Ophir said.
Spanish guitars strummed softly in the background. Number Three placed a plate of the ritziest turkey
meal Id ever seen in front of me and refilled my wine glass. Maybe it was just me, but how could it be
Thanksgiving without a ton of people crammed around the table and a big bowl of mashers being passed
from person to person? I chided myself for being ungrateful. I could have gone to my parents if I wanted
that. Ophir was kind enough to open his home to me. I had no right to complain about how he observed
the holiday.
How have you been, Sam?
Im still digging myself out of the hole I fell into, but Im much better. I took a bite of the fresh green
beans. Chris was an incredible cook. Having too much time to think is dangerous, but Im also figuring
out some things. I dont do well on my own. I mean, I can survive. I did for a long time before I moved in
with Hector. It would probably be a long time before I could say his name casually, but it was getting
easier. I do better in a structured environment.
Ophir nodded. Have you tried the sweet potato casserole? Thats the light yellow with the pecan
topping.
I tasted it. Nice. It reminded me of my aunts sweet potato pie. Someone put butter on my mashed
potatoes instead of gravy, and there was no gravy boat on the table, so I dipped a forkful of potatoes
into the au jus that barely covered the turkey.
Are you happy where you are, or are you going to look for a structured environment?
I loved the way we were dancing around the words, especially considering that we both knew damn
well what they meant.
This turkey is very moist. I reached for my glass of iced tea. I have to be out of the room Im renting
by the end of December. So I guess Im looking.
Ophir leaned forward. He put his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. I sense that you dont
really want to make any changes.
How long were we going to cloak everything in euphemisms? Sure, I was in awe of the man, but I was
sick of the awkward formality. Honestly, I dont want another Master right now. It could be a long time
before Im ready to have sex with anyone again. My hearts not in it. It wouldnt be fair to any man I
tried to serve, and it wouldnt solve anything for me, except that Id have duties to help keep me
focused.
Dont be so sure about that.
What? That Id make a lousy slave right now?
Ophir chuckled, but I didnt feel as if he was laughing at me. No, Sam. I have every faith in your ability
to serve. As I told you, when I first saw you, I was prepared to dismiss you as a very pretty boy with no
substance. Since then, youve constantly proven me wrong. Any man who could walk away from Hector
is a man to be reckoned with. Any man who can walk away and not crawl back when things get rough
has my deepest respect.
There was a lump in my throat.
What I doubt, he continued, is that theres a Master out there who would measure up to your high
standards.
I started to object, but a gesture from his hand silenced me.
Keeping a slave takes a great deal of energy. Submissives are notorious attention whores. He smiled
at that. When they feel ignored, they tend to break rules in order to get noticed. A good Master doesnt
let a slave set the pace, though. He metes out just enough attention to keep his boy happy, but still hungry
for more. Attention usually means sex. Seeing what a slut you are, I suspect that Hector had to fuck you
every day, if not more often than that, and yet you still needed more. Did you get punished every day,
too?
My mouth was dry. I felt like a specimen pinned to a board. Not every day, but at least three times a
week. My butt was always bruised.
You must have exhausted him.
Suddenly, I feel like a spoiled brat.
Spoiled? Yes. Brat? No. But tell me, what other man do you know of who can spend that kind of time
and energy on a boy? None. And I know some of the best Masters in the United States. No one will
ever measure up. No matter how many duties they hand you, youll never feel that sense of
all-encompassing structure like you did with Hector. I should know. I was spoiled, too.
My shoulders slumped. So youre telling me that Im hopelessly screwed.
I couldnt run my household if I had to watch my slaves the way Hector serviced you. This is why
Number Ones duties include training and monitoring Two and Three, and Number Two also supervises
Three. I couldnt get anything done otherwise. Even I live under a set of rules, Sam. My day is orderly.
My house is orderly. My duties are defined, and my life has structure.
Maybe I was too dense to figure out what he meant, so I said nothing.
Have you ever thought of being a top?
It was my turn to laugh. Me?
You belong in the lifestyle, Sam. Youre no role-player. This isnt a game to you. Its a true way of life.
The trick is finding a new niche where you fit. Dont be so surprised at my suggestion. Some of the finest
submissives make the best Masters, and the world is so woefully short of good Masters.
I wouldnt even know where to begin, even if I was crazy enough to think I could be a Master.
Number Three came in and cleared our plates. He returned with a strange dessert.
Pumpkin crme brule, Ophir said. He tapped his spoon on the hard covering of melted sugar on top
until it shattered. Then he tasted it. Very good. Like silk on the tongue.
I picked up my spoon.
Dont answer me now, but think over this offer. I could train you to be a Master. I have a spare
bedroom you could live in until youre ready to establish your own home.
My gaze flitted down to the dessert as my mind reeled. The way he put it, it sounded so reasonable, but
part of me protested that I didnt want to be a Master. Thats very generous. Too generous.
You helped my Number One when he was lost and alone, Sam. I will never forget that. You are lost,
and alone, and I will do everything in my power to help you. But as I said, think it over. This isnt a
decision you should make quickly. And even if you turn me down, if you need a place to stay after
December, the room is still yours to use until you make other plans.
Chapter 13
That Sunday, the storm was sitting over Los Angeles with no signs of moving, so playing basketball with
Brett, Joey, and Alberto was out of the question. Alberto and Joey came over to hang out anyway. We
pushed the couch back and played Wii games.
So, Sam, what have you been doing with yourself, other than dating movie stars? Joey asked. He
tossed a piece of popcorn in the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.
I bowled a strike and handed the game controller over to Alberto. Thats over now. Harris got a real
boyfriend. Im just little old obscure me again, thank goodness.
Alberto grinned over his shoulder. Not for long. Palm Springs. Sundance. Golden Globes. The Oscars.
Plenty of opportunities for you to get your picture in the paper.
No, thanks.
He pouted. You act like fame is a bad thing. He turned back to the TV and cued up his avatar. His
first ball went into the gutter.
Id love to be famous, Joey said.
Being polite, I held my tongue and didnt say anything about how fame started out as this nice,
manageable thing that smoothed out rough moments, but it quickly moved into your life, forgot to respect
your privacy, and became a little out-of-control monster.
Alberto bowled again. He danced around, as if body language would help guide his ball down the center
of the lane. He spun around and pouted. Always in the gutter.
Next time, let me help you, Brett offered. Its all in the wrist.
Yeah, like jacking off, Joey said.
Then maybe Sam should teach me. Alberto winked.
Brett sat up straight. So, Sam, hows your apartment hunt going? Will you need help moving?
We hadnt mentioned moving out for a couple weeks. I was sort of hoping that after the nightmares
stopped and I made a real effort to be less annoying, hed cut me some slack. Obviously not.
I havent made a final decision.
Well, you better get cracking.
You can move in with me! Alberto batted his eyelashes. I have that big house all to myself.
Yeah, but you live right next door to Hector. You cant expect Sam to feel comfortable there, Joey
pointed out. With all the millions of houses in southern California you could have picked, you moved
right next door to Sams old place. What were the odds?
Astronomical, I said.
Alberto grinned. I was beginning to think that when he smiled, angels didnt sing -- demons cackled.
You make your own luck. Sam taught me that.
Sam should have been shot for ever suggesting you move to LA.
Brett made fussy noises. Sam, youre running out of time.
If there was one upside to my bout of depression, it was that at least Brett had stopped hitting on me all
the time. Of course, as soon as he stopped trying to get into my pants, he made it clear that I annoyed the
hell out of him. I guessed maybe he let me move in because he thought hed catch me on the rebound.
How many times had I told him that he didnt stand a chance with me? Maybe he finally got the clue. I
wished hed take it like a big boy.
Are you even looking for a place? Brett pressed.
Im working on it. I wasnt, but he didnt know that. Id be out of town most of January anyway. If I
had to, I could move my stuff into a storage locker and live in a hotel. Hell, I could move back with my
parents and phase back and forth to Long Beach. Talk about your long commutes, though. I hated to
waste my power like that.
Alberto tossed the Wii controller to me. Sam, really, you could always move in with me. Although I
understand it might be a little hard for you to live next door to Hector, especially since he has a new
lover, and youre still alone.
That shouldnt have hit me so hard, but it felt as if Id been sucker punched. Hector is seeing
someone?
Oh yeah. Ive seen them together. He was paddling-- Alberto put his hands over his mouth. Oops.
Did I say something I shouldnt have?
Youre a complete fucktard, Joey said. Why would you say something like that to him?
I was wondering that myself.
Brett came rushing to Albertos defense. No, he isnt. Sam needs to hear the truth. Hes been moping
around long enough. Im glad Alberto told him.
Joey leaned forward, his face tense. I thought you were a jerk for throwing Sam out, Brett, but now
Ive decided that youre a really shitty friend. In fact, youre dead to me from now on. And you, Alberto,
its no wonder you have to attach yourself like a leech to everyone and try to take over their lives. You
use people. You used me to get closer to Sam. Youre cruel, Alberto. Cruel and a user. Sam, I only
have one bed, and my apartment is tiny, but youre welcome to stay with me as long as you need to.
Joey got to his feet. And I think with that, Im out of here.
For a moment, my mouth hung open. It was as if Joey was saying everything I felt. I got off the couch.
Joey, wait.
Sorry, Sam. I cant hang with these jerks any longer.
Neither can I. I think Im leaving, too. Brett, Ill be moved out before you know it. After that, dont
bother to call, I told him.
Sam, the drama queen, Brett said. No wonder Hector didnt try to get you back. Youre just a dizzy,
fucked up, train wreck, drama queen who thinks hes hot shit because he dates stars like Harris Smith.
There were so many hateful things I could say to him that would make him hurt twice as much as he hurt
me, but I wasnt about to go there. Thanks for that, Brett. If Im ever tempted to forgive you, Ill
remember what you just said, and then Ill get over it. I opened the door. Lets go, Joey.
Chapter 14
Since Joey had a hot date New Years Eve, I decided to go to Ophirs party that night. I was deeply
touched that instead of leaving me to drift around on my own while he held court in the kitchen, Ophir
introduced me to the few select Masters I didnt know and then watched with amused detachment as I
demurred on invitations to go upstairs with them. After he seemed to feel that I could handle being on my
own, he headed for the kitchen.
A short, blond guy with a huge moustache pounced as soon as I was alone. Since Ophir hadnt
introduced him, I figured Ophir didnt feel the guy was worth my time. I tried to be nice, but quickly
decided Ophirs judgment was right. There wasnt anything specifically wrong with the guy. He just
wasnt my type. So I excused myself and went across the room to talk to some guys I knew.
The guy followed me and butted into our conversation. That was irritating enough, but he kept barking
out orders as if he expected us to wait on him. He had no manners and no sense of boundaries. No boy
served anyone but his Master, but that guy didnt seem to understand.
The other boys were called away, or rescued, which was how I saw it, leaving me alone with the blond
again. He started bragging about his Harley. I tried to make polite chit-chat about motorcycles when he
told me to be quiet until he gave me permission to speak. Thats the point where I decided to walk away
from him.
He didnt take the hint. Stupid me, I let him corner me near the grand piano. He was yapping about
something else, probably bragging, but I only had eyes for an escape route. The other party guests were
beginning to turn their attention to us as if we were an amusing floor show.
Excuse me. I have to piss. I pushed past him. He actually followed me.
Boy!
I slipped out into the garden.
Boy, I was talking to you. I didnt give you permission to leave. He posed and tried to look mean.
Done being nice, I decided that some people needed a clue the size of a two-by-four to smack them
upside the head before they got the hint. Listen. Im not your boy. Just because you call yourself a
Master doesnt make you one. So back off and leave me alone. I went back into the house.
Unbelievably, the idiot followed me all the way into the living room.
Boy! You need to be taught a lesson. He grabbed my arm.
The conversations around us fell silent.
Heat crept up my face, but I stayed calm. Take your hand off me.
He smirked at the men who were rising to their feet. Not unless you beg.
Honestly, I hadnt been drinking. That was probably a good thing, because otherwise my temper would
have spun out of control. Instead, I bent back his middle finger until he yelped. Smiling, but not in a
friendly way, I kept pushing back on it. Tears sprang to his eyes as he slowly sank to the floor before me.
By then, I had several fingers in my grasp and bent them back almost far enough to break them.
Until you earn my respect, you dont get to play Master with me. Got it, asshole?
The rest of the guests chuckled.
In blinding pain, and dismayed by the support I had, the guy fought for his dignity. Youre crazy! I let
him jerk his hand away. He cradled it to his chest as he staggered to his feet. Ill fucking sue you. You
broke my hand.
I could have, but I didnt. Consider it a lesson. Dont touch what isnt yours. And for the love of the
Gods, learn how to control yourself before you try to control a submissive. Strutting around in cheap
leather doesnt make you a Master.
The men behind us laughed.
I ought to teach you a lesson, boy. The blond got right in my face.
Chris stepped between us. Master Ophir requests that you leave, he quietly told the blond.
He looked shocked. Me?
Yes, you. Now. Chris grasped the waist of the guys leather pants, put a hand on his shoulder, and
forced him to the front door. The blond kicked up a fuss, but Chris had no problem shoving him out of
the house. You will not be admitted again.
Chris closed the door and came over to me. Master Ophir invites you to join him in the kitchen. He
gestured toward the door.
Behind me in the living room, conversations continued.
Fear had overtaken my anger by the time I walked into the kitchen. Was I about to be told off? Id
certainly stepped out of line. I hoped Ophir wasnt angry with me.
Ophir handed me a glass of red wine as I entered the kitchen. I thought you might need this about
now.
The rest of the Masters inside greeted me with quick kisses and little squeezes of support. It was easy to
love men like that. They made me feel at home. My fear ebbed away.
Are you sure you dont want to train to be a Master, Sam? Ophir asked. His eyes positively twinkled
with merriment.
Pretty sure, Sir. My gaze dropped respectfully to the ground as I took a submissive stance before him.
That isnt no, Sam.
I wanted to be nice. I appreciate the offer, Sir.
The others in the kitchen seemed to be listening in on our conversation.
I consider you to be a friend, Sam. After that little demonstration, Im more convinced than ever that
you would make a good Master, unlike that sorry excuse for one that you brought to his knees.
Sorry about that, Sir.
Not at all. He deserved it. Ophir took a sip of his wine. But about my offer. An all-knowing smile
tugged on his lips.
Well My gaze dropped back to my shoes.
You still love Hector, he said.
That was it exactly. I lifted my chin. Yes. I didnt mind every Master I respected knowing that. The
funny thing was that I felt all kinds of sympathy and respect flowing off them. There was a little pity there,
too, but it had a wistful edge to it. Only family could make you feel all right about being so miserable.
Ophir put his hand on my shoulder A wise man once told me theres no shame in love, Sam. But unless
youre going back, you have to move on.
***
My leather jacket, chaps, and gloves werent enough to keep the windchill from my skin as I rode my
motorcycle from Long Beach to Palm Springs. Who knew the desert could be so cold at night? Teeth
chattering, I stubbornly rode on, but finally gave up and phased to a spot a couple miles out of town.
Huge windmills covered the barren desert hills on both sides of the freeway. The white blades churned
slowly.
I got off the freeway at Palm Canyon Drive and rode that into town. For a long while there wasnt much
to look at, just dusty desert, rocks, and low scrub bushes. I passed the gas station where Hector and I
had worked out a little scene the last time we were in town. Between the vibration of the bike against my
groin and fond memories of that spanking, my cock was getting hard.
I rode past vintage motor lodges and sun-faded buildings interspersed with a few vacant lots. The
neighborhood got progressively wealthier until the street was lined with boutiques and restaurants. I
stopped at a red light. Banners announcing the film festival hung over the boulevard at every intersection.
Guys crossing the street slowed down as they passed my bike. They looked me over with that frank
appraisal I got in bars. By the time their eyes made the trip up my legs to the obvious bulge in my jeans,
past my skin-tight, leather jacket to my face, they were ready to worship me. That was kind of cool, but
then someone ruined it by dragging out a camera.
Even though it was night, I darkened the visor on my helmet and cursed Alberto, because I was sure he
had something to do with it.
At the host hotel for the welcome party, I parked my motorcycle and walked across the driveway to the
ballroom entrance, skirting behind the pack of paparazzi. If I thought I could sneak in, though, I was
wrong.
Look, its Sam Dewey! Alberto yelled.
I was going to kill the little bastard.
He dodged around like a fashion photographer, shooting off rapid pictures of me.
The other paparazzi, afraid that they were missing something, lifted their cameras and went crazy. I curtly
raised my hand to block my face and went inside the hotel.
The party had spilled out into the lobby. People said my name and tried to grab me. Their eyes were
scary, like something that was about to turn very nasty and attack.
Someone took hold of the collar of my leather jacket. I got his coat!
Not if I could help it. I sprinted for the bank of doors ahead, shoved on them with both hands, and
stumbled into the ballroom.
A bright white light hit me. Like a school of fish, the mob inside the ballroom swarmed toward me.
People standing at the sidelines rose on tiptoes to see who was in the spotlight. My heart pounded as I
dodged right. The light panned over the crowd. It was like a prison escape movie. I expected to hear
alarms and barking dogs any second. I ducked and wove. People pressed close. I couldnt breath.
Someone yanked hard on my hair. I dove into a cluster of husky men and phased at the same time.
***
In the mens room outside the ballroom, I hung onto the sink and gasped. What the fuck was wrong with
people? I knew what was wrong with them. Alberto had cast his spell, and they thought I was famous.
The bathroom door slammed open. I bolted for one of the stalls, but not quickly enough.
Harris Smith, looking as unruffled and charming as Id ever seen him, laughed when he saw me
scramble. Id forgotten he was in Palm Springs promoting his film. Not enjoying your brush with fame,
Sam?
I cautiously stepped out of the stall. They tried to take my jacket.
He grinned and walked over, his hand extended. How have you been?
We shook. Good, until now. How can you stand that? I nodded toward the door.
It never stops being weird. Could be worse. You could be a nobody.
Id love to be a nobody! I am a nobody! Being famous for being famous is stupid. At least youre an
actor. Theres a reason why people want to see you.
He laughed as he went over to the urinals.
Waiting seemed weird. So did watching him. So I pissed, too.
After we were both done and at the sinks again, I figured it wasnt breaking the guy taboo to talk to him.
So, how long can I hide out in the bathroom?
Not too long, or they start rumors that youre doing drugs or something even more nefarious. Harris
winked. Come on. Time to face the music.
We walked out of the bathroom together. I felt like a dog for using Harris as a decoy but he was far
more famous than I was, so I figured that the rabid fans and paparazzi would rush him while I made a
quiet escape. Looking back, I should have known it was a huge mistake. There was no hiding from
Albertos camera.
Took you-- What was he doing in there with you? A rangy guy with a pockmarked face looked from
Harris to me and back to Harris.
Now, Chuck, Harris said in a soothing tone, his hands raised in a gesture of supplication.
Oops. The boyfriend. His aura was awash in sickly shades of green that only grew darker as he looked
me over.
I decided to try charm. I grinned and offered my hand. Are you Chuck? Harriss told me a lot about--
I was never sure how much of the white flashing behind my eyes was the paparazzi and how much was
from the impact of Chucks fist slamming into my nose. I staggered back clutching my face.
Alberto, that little shit, had the cheek to grin as he took pictures of the scene that I was sure he set up.
What the hell? There was a bright smear of blood on my fingers.
The flashes kept going off.
Chuck! Harris eyes were huge.
Chuck pulled himself up and pointed at me. Thats for making out with him in the limo.
The bridge of my nose and my cheek pulsed in time with my heartbeat. On the other side of that
throbbing numbness was a wall of pain, and there was no way I could avoid hitting it.
People ran over to stare at us. I had no idea what to do, so I wiped another trickle of blood coming out
of my nose and laughed.
Whats so funny, asshole? Chuck asked.
Well, you got the guy. And you got to throw the punch. I guess that makes me the bad guy. At least it
would in the movies.
Sam, Im sorry, Harris said. Hes never like this.
Where had I heard that excuse before? But his jealous boyfriend wasnt my problem. Dont be,
Harris. I always wanted to be the bad boy.
It was a great exit line, so I took it. Back in the bathroom, I checked myself out in the mirror. Oh man,
was I ever a sorry sight. The overhead lights cast a sickly glow over my skin. My eye was already
swelling. I grabbed a bunch of paper towels, wet them, and pressed them gingerly to my face.
Alberto followed me into the mens room. His glee was so obvious that I felt like throwing a punch
myself. Instead of erupting, though, my temper pegged at ice.
Got that one shot that will make you famous, Alberto?
He pouted. Dont be like that, Sam. Its good for you, too.
I pointed to my bleeding nose. This is good for me? I snorted, sending a fine spray of blood down my
shirt.
But your picture is going to be everywhere! And not just here in the US. Magazines around the world
are going to pay through the nose to print it. He saw me sopping up the blood coming out of my nose
and laughed nervously. Then he tried the big eyes routine. I used my power to make all the other
cameras fail. Was that bad of me?
How could he think that was a good time to flirt with me?
Did you also use your powers to make Chuck jealous?
His mischievous grin made me want to deck him. I didnt have to. He clapped. Oh, youre so mad at
me right now! Do you want to spank me? He turned around and wriggled his ass. Come on. I wont
mind. Itll be fun.
He was turned on. How could I make it clearer to him? I stepped close so that I towered over him. Get
this through your horny, thick little skull, Alberto. I dont like you, I dont want you, and I will never
touch you.
Did that scare him? No. The little jerk just about shot his wad.
So butch! But I think youll change your tune, Sam. You dont want to cross me. I always get what I
want.
Chapter 15
Life at Ophirs was really strange. I wasnt a boy, and his slaves called me Sir. They didnt let me do
anything. No matter how well trained they were, though, I could see the slow seep of green through their
auras, and the growing jealousy screwed up the careful balance in the house. Id only been there a couple
days when I realized it wasnt going to work.
I knocked on the door of Ophirs office. Id never been in there before. A stack of essays sat on his
desk. The top one had so much red ink across it that it seemed to be bleeding. He leaned back in his
leather chair, smoking a cigar as he conducted along with the orchestral piece playing from his computer.
Mind if I come in? I asked.
Ophir waved me in. Any distraction is a welcome one. Ive been grading papers. If I didnt know
better, Id think some of these students are trying to torture me.
He indicated that I should sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. It felt as if Id been summoned to
the headmasters office. The room certainly looked like something out of an elite, English boarding
school. There was even a huge cricket bat hanging from the bookcase behind his desk, and I doubted it
was ever used for cricket.
Whats on your mind, Sam?
I appreciate the space, Ophir, but I dont really belong here. Im leaving for Sundance at the end of the
week. When I get back, I think Ill move on, I told him.
He tapped his cigar against the crystal ashtray. Any thoughts about where youll go?
I shrugged. Hector made me save all my money, so Im pretty flush right now, and Im getting a nice
bonus for doing the G-G-G-olden Globes. I make a decent living. I thought about buying a little
one-room condo somewhere. A house would have been nice. I miss my garden. But the more I think
about it, moving back to Oklahoma seems like the best answer.
His eyes widened. Oklahoma?
My parents arent getting any younger, and even though shes a pain in the butt, I miss my sister and her
kids. Theres always work to be done on a farm. Itll keep my days busy, and exhaustion makes it easy
to sleep.
Thats a pretty drastic change, Sam. Are you sure? Its so far away. How soon are you thinking about
moving?
Id never seen anything shake Ophir before, so I was surprised that he seemed so concerned. Hector
was his close friend, not me. I was just another boy.
A couple days after I get back from Sundance. Theres not much keeping me here anymore. A couple
good friends. You, Joey, Angelena. But I can visit.
But what about Hector? he blurted.
Whats done is done, and whats over is over, I guess. Besides, Alberto hinted that Hector is seeing
someone.
Ophir set down his cigar with deliberate care. That isnt true.
Who was I supposed to believe? I guess Alberto could be lying. He does that. But its been over three
months since I left Hector, Ophir. You said yourself that there was a shortage of good Masters around,
and hes one of the best. So hes got plenty of willing submissives just dying to hook up with him. If he
isnt with one now, he will be soon. Thats just the way it is. I think youve been trying to break it to me
gently. Im kind of slow about these things sometimes, so its taken me a while to catch on to what you
meant, but I get it. I need to get over him and move on.
Thats not what Ive been trying to tell you, Sam.
I guess Im just dense, then.
You have a remarkable blindness for the glaringly obvious, but I wouldnt call you dense, or stupid.
I scratched my eyebrow. So whats glaringly obvious that Im blind to?
Ophir sat back. For a long time, he said nothing. He rested his elbows on the arms of his chair. I think
its time I took you into my dungeon. Then, as if the word tasted bad in his mouth, he added, Boy.
***
Why I agreed to go into the dungeon with Ophir, I have no idea. Maybe I thought it would help me get
over Hector. The thing was, Ophir knew I was hesitant, but instead of whisking me upstairs the moment I
agreed, he told me that I had to wait until he was ready. Masters. There was no guessing what game they
were playing.
I didnt remind Ophir that I was leaving for Park City at the end of the week. There were times I felt like
telling him Id changed my mind, other times I was resigned to it, and the rest of the time I wasnt sure
how I felt, so I left it up to fate. Either he would summon me to his dungeon before I left for Sundance, or
he wouldnt, and the moment would be past us.
Then, a couple days before I left, Chris and Number Three came to the guest bedroom I was using and
said that theyd been instructed to prepare me for a session with Master Ophir. They undressed me, took
me into the shower, washed me, and dried me off with none of the sweet flirtation theyd showed before.
They were all business.
Chris told me to sit on the floor facing the bedroom wall. If that wasnt strange enough, Number Three
put headphones on me and turned on a piece that I think was Beethoven. Whatever it was, it was loud.
Then they left. Figuring that I was supposed to meditate, I closed my eyes and tried to get centered.
I had no idea how long they left me there. I got lost in the music. It seemed promising at first. I followed
the melody down a mental pathway, but not deeply enough, and I kept finding my way back to full
awareness. By the time Chris came back for me, I was frustrated instead of calm.
***
The guest bedroom I was using was down the hallway from Ophirs dungeon. Even though I knew
where it was, Id avoided it. It seemed like a taboo space. Led there by Chris, though, I had the feeling
of slipping into ritual, so I didnt hesitate at the entrance to the room as I usually did.
I knelt on the cold tiles. Chris gave my shoulder a light squeeze before he left. The faint scent of
antiseptic was in the air. It wasnt the usual sweat and come locker room smell of most dungeons. With
my head bowed, I worked to get into the right mental space for submission. It had been so long.
Ophir finally came into the room. I didnt move or make a sound. His boot heels clicked on the tile floor
as he walked around me.
Limits, Boy.
No humiliation. No sex, Sir.
He lifted my chin. No sex? His lips curled into a cruel smile.
Thats only for My gaze dropped.
For your Master, Ophir said softly.
Yes, Sir.
His thumb stroked my cheek. Moments of silence passed. To the cross, Boy.
I rose and went to the brushed metal St. Andrews cross. Even though I knew how the shackles on it
worked, I did nothing. Presuming anything with a Master was always a mistake. The challenge to do
everything right kicked my mind into heightened awareness.
Ophir set the shackles on my wrists and ankles. It was too late for second thoughts. When I was secure,
he ran his hands down my back, across my butt, and down my thighs. The aura of his touch lingered on
my skin long after his hands moved away.
Ill admit that Ive wanted to test you for a long time, Sam. I know that youre a pain slut. I could
probably use floggers on you that Id never think to use on my boys. However, youre not mine to
mark.
I shuddered as he traced Hectors brand on my ass. Why did he do that? Id put Hector out of my
mind, and Ophir had brought him back.
Please dont touch that, Sir.
Instead of punishing me for speaking, he asked, Does it hurt?
Yes. No. Its just that--
It belongs to him?
I nodded.
Since this isnt punishment, Im going to start by warming up your back. My suede flogger may feel
soft, but soon, the texture will make your skin sting.
Please. Yes, please.
He began working my shoulders. At first, it was a light thumping, but before long, as promised, the
suede felt like tiny nettles on my skin. At the point where it was uncomfortable, he started working my
thighs.
My head rested against the cold metal cross. I wished hed flog my ass. Gods I needed to be spanked.
Somewhere, there had to be a big muscle bear who would like to pull me over his knee. Maybe hed
finally teach me a lesson I needed to learn. Hed yank my jeans down and laugh as I struggled to get
away. A strong arm would wrap around me while he lifted his hand high and smacked it down on my ass.
Fuck, I was hard.
Ophir had switched to a harsher flogger. The thin strips splayed out and stung like a jellyfish. I imagined
that my skin was getting deep pink across my shoulders. If only a muscle bear would make my ass that
color. Spank me harder, Sir. In my little fantasy, his face got more definition. No, too much like Hector.
Exactly like Hector. I didnt want to think about him. Him, telling me I was a bad, bad boy for running
away from home. Him, telling me he was tired of my drama. Him, telling me that Papi was going to spank
my bottom so hard so that I wouldnt be able to sit for a week.
Fuck. I sucked in a breath. Would I never be free of Hector?
Ophirs hand rested on my shoulder blade. Are you okay, Boy?
Getting a little too turned on, Sir.
In real life, Ophir had yet to mark my butt. I was afraid that if he did, Id shoot.
Whats turning you on, Boy?
Im fantasizing about being spanked.
Spanked by whom?
I bowed my head. Just, just a guy.
Dont lie to me in my dungeon, Boy. I thought you were trained better than that. Who are you
fantasizing about?
It was so wrong to tell a Master that I wasnt thinking of him. Hector.
I thought you hated him.
I never said that, Sir.
Do you want me to continue?
Yes, Sir. Please, Sir. Harder. Much harder.
Ill give Ophir credit. He tried. He got out the cat-o-nines and beat me until he was huffing. He finally
went for the cruelest instrument in his toy cabinet, a quirt.
I howled and cried, but no matter how many tears I shed, it didnt help. Id be almost there, moving
inside my mind, but nothing was familiar. I walked circles, but realized I was lost. Somewhere close by
was something I desperately needed, like it was on the other side of a wall, but I couldnt reach it, no
matter how hard I tried. I cant get there, I sobbed.
Ophir panted. Get where, Boy?
Only Hector can take me there. To my subspace. Ill never get there. Im sorry. I know you tried.
Ophir unclasped the shackles. I collapsed into his arms.
Im sorry, Sir. I really tried.
Do you want water?
Please.
He helped me to the stainless steel table in the corner of the room. I sat on the edge and sipped water
from a paper cup.
He glanced at the mirrored wall. I have another offer for you.
I swore I heard something. I turned to the wall, but saw only Ophir and me. Ophir cupped my chin and
forced me to look at him. Youre a slut, Sam. I like that in a boy. How would you like to come to my
bed right now? My boys have been dying for a chance at your monster cock. And trust me, my boys
wont be screaming for you to pull out after a couple minutes of fucking. Or if youd like, I could chain
you to the bed and fuck you myself. How long has it been since that perfect ass of yours has been
pounded, Boy? How long since you went to bed sore and satisfied?
Every Gods powers had facets. It wasnt really a question of good or bad. Different situations called for
different aspects. The side I feared most of my power was the abyss of hedonism. If I wanted it, the orgy
could go on forever. I could sink into pleasures far beyond anything Ophir imagined he or his boys could
offer. Worship would drag me under, and Id disappear into a non-stop fuckfest. That didnt guarantee
happiness, though. While it was tempting to let Ophir lead me down that path, it didnt go anywhere I
wanted to be. But how to explain that to Ophir?
Sir, youve been more than generous with me. I dont know how I could have made it through the past
couple months without your help. But I cant do what you want me to. My eyes pleaded with him for
understanding. Im sorry.
The two-way mirror on the far wall rattled.
What was that, Sir? An earthquake? I glanced around the room to see if anything was swaying.
I heard heavy feet on the stairs. Startled, I stared at Ophir. His slaves moved in silence, so it couldnt be
one of them.
Ophirs beautiful mouth curled into a wise smile. That, I believe, is Hector. Hes either never going to
forgive me, or--
Hectors here? My pulse raced.
The heavy footsteps paused, shuffled, and then came back up the stairs. The dungeon door slammed
open. Oh boy. Talk about getting caught with my pants down.
Gods, Hector was gorgeous. He filled the doorway. I was so stunned that my mind went blank. He
stalked across the room with that sexy swagger of his. His eyes didnt leave mine. I was jumpy and so
damn turned on at the same time. Id forgotten what a caveman he could be, and how hot that was. I
hoped hed throw me over his shoulder, drag me home, and fuck my brains out.
Ophir stepped between us. Dont you even think of laying a hand on him, Hector.
Hector snorted as he shoved past Ophir. All right. I wont touch him. His hands clamped down on the
edge of the table on either side of my legs. He leaned in close to my face. Tomorrow. Coffee. You will
come when I summon you.
He stomped out of the room.
I heard him go down the stairs. I didnt dare speak, because if he came back up, I wanted to hear it. But
then the front door closed, and I knew he was gone.
I blinked and blinked and blinked. I still couldnt believe hed been there.
Well, that went as well as can be expected, Ophir said. He put his floggers back in his toy cabinet.
You planned this? That was a stupid thing to say. Of course Hector didnt just show up in the room
behind the two-way mirror. Ophir brought him there.
I told you that Id try to help you, Sam. Hector isnt perfect, but hes been working hard the past
couple months to change his ways. He took a leave of absence from work. Hes been going to therapy
every day trying to work past his jealousy. He did that for you, Sam. He never would have done that for
me.
I dont like being tricked.
Who was tricked? Hector, not you. I never promised you that our session would be private. Besides, I
figured that I owed him one for paddling me in front of my Number One. Sometimes, even Masters need
a swift kick to the ass. Ophir saw my glower. He shook his head. At least meet him for coffee
tomorrow and talk to him. Hes been a mess since you left him.
Are you trying to get us back together? What about admiring a man who didnt crawl back when times
got rough?
Youre not going to crawl back to him, Sam. Youre on your own two feet. Its up to you, but if I were
you, I wouldnt make it too easy on him. You know how much he enjoys a good chase.
Who said I was taking him back?
No one. Youre just having coffee.
Ophir was so smugly amused that I could have punched him, but I didnt. Hector was going to call me.
It shouldnt have flustered me so much, but damn if I wasnt walking on air.
***
Pathetic? Delusional? Stupid? All of the above?
Most of the morning was wasted trying to figure out what to wear to coffee with Hector. I dressed in
black, wool pants and a black, cashmere sweater. Then I decided I didnt want him to think I was
devastated and running around all emo, so I switched to jeans and a faded t-shirt. Maybe we were just
tying up loose ends before we went our separate ways. Maybe it didnt mean anything.
I wished my cock would quit rising every time I thought of Hector leaning in close and growling that
order to meet him.
Thank the Gods Ophir was at work so he wouldnt catch me pacing by the phone. I was too
embarrassed to admit I was waiting for Hector to call me, because Id been so angry with Ophir the night
before.
My hopes were up. I was setting myself up for a crushing blow.
Another winter storm had rolled in over the Los Angeles basin and it had been raining since the middle
of the night. I remembered that the first time Hector and I met for coffee, it had been raining. Oh, geez. I
was getting nostalgic.
Id been wearing jeans and a t-shirt for that date, too, I remembered. I didnt want Hector to think I
was trying to relive our past or anything, so I took off the t-shirt and pulled the sweater back on.
Damn. It looked as if I was dressing up for a date. We were just going to meet and talk. He was
probably going to tell me that he already had another boy. Or he was going to tell me that that scene with
Ophir had been cheating, and now he really was through with me. Wait -- if we werent together, was it
cheating to let Ophir flog me?
While I tore myself up over those questions, I checked my mobile to see if there was a message. A
watched phone never rings. I went to the guest bedroom, sat down at my computer, and tried to work.
That little message Id written to myself several months back was taped to my monitor.
You did the right thing.
I ripped it down and threw it away.
I changed out of my jeans and put on the gray pants because they showed off my ass better. That settled
it. I was pathetic.
***
The phone never rang. My mistake, of course. Only three and a half months apart, and Id already
forgotten that when Hector said summon, he meant hed make his brand on my ass heat up.
I was playing yet another game on my computer when heat seared through my ass cheek. I yelped and
jumped to my feet before it dawned on me what it meant. I had no idea where I was supposed to meet
him. On blind faith, I phased to wherever Hector was.
It wasnt our regular coffee house. So much for nostalgia. Obviously this was just a final goodbye. I felt
like a dope for being so happy all morning.
Hector wasnt in the line at the cashier, so I looked around. He sat at a small table in the corner where
he could watch me act like a total idiot. It was just my luck that he happened to wear that tight, purple
t-shirt that made the brown of his eyes and skin stand out. The sleeves strained over the muscles in his
upper arms. As I walked over, he rose from his chair. Damn it. He wore his faded jeans that showed off
his package. He couldnt have looked hotter if hed tried.
He smiled at me. Sam. Thanks for coming. Have a seat. I hope you dont mind. I already ordered your
coffee.
Great. Polite and professional. No obligatory peck on the cheek. I was going to get dumped. Wait a
second. I already dumped him. My forehead furrowed. What was this all about? Did he have mail to
hand over to me? Did he want his house key back?
We sat down. He rubbed his hands along his thighs.
While my brain worked furiously to figure out what was going on, I sipped my coffee. Hed sweetened it
perfectly.
Thanks for coming.
Hed already said that.
Before you go
Was I going? Id just arrived.
Before you leave, please hear me out, Sam. I have something important I need to tell you.
He was going to sue me for back rent for all those months I lived with him for free? He was going to
make me take over payments on my motorcycle? Hed plowed under my garden and built a hot tub?
What?
Sam, I know I really screwed up. After you left-- He winced, as if a sharp pain stuck in his ribs. I
realized that Id never really worked on my jealousy. I got good at masking it. I learned not to hit you.
But it was always there. I didn't think that any therapy could have ever helped. I could talk about it, but
there wasnt really any hope for a cure.
Oh, so it was the Its not you, its me speech. Except wasnt it a little late for that?
Yesterday, at Ophirs, I was livid when he was flogging you. Jealousy ate at my gut. I was punching the
couch in that little room. I wanted to throttle you and beat Ophir senseless. But Id given Ophir my word
that I wouldnt leave that room until he asked you a question about an offer, and I had to wait to hear
your answer. So I bided my time. You can probably imagine how crazed I was.
I nodded. Where was he going with all that?
Then he asked you if you wanted to go to his bed. I saw how hard you were. I stopped pacing and
listened. As soon as you answered, I figured I was free from my promise to Ophir. But as I stood there
watching you, I knew before you said a word what you were going to say. Not the exact words, of
course. But I was thinking, Poor Ophir. He doesnt realize it, but Sams going to shoot him down. Ive
seen it a thousand times before, a million times, and thats exactly the look on Sams face when hes
trying to think of a polite way of saying no. Hector leaned over the table, his eyes alive with excitement
I didnt understand. And then you turned him down. And I was free to go. I was halfway down the
stairs when it finally came clear. I could see it, Sam. Finally. Like being hit by a lightning bolt. Ive seen
you turn down every offer from every man, because you dont cheat. Youre completely faithful to me.
Or you were. Always. You were never tempted to cheat. It wasnt you. It was my imagination! He sat
back in his chair, triumphant. He was so proud of himself.
What? He thought he was telling me something I didnt know? Was I supposed to applaud that? I didnt
think it was a huge news flash.
His smile faded a little. You dont understand what that means?
The way I see it, it means nothing has changed.
That came out wrong. What I meant was that I always knew I was innocent, and that I was glad he'd
finally caught on. But as I worked through those words in my head so that they wouldnt come out wrong
again, he rose, knocking over the table. I lunged for the coffee cups. Hot coffee spilled over my hand. I
turned around to explain what I meant to say, but Hector was already gone.
Chapter 16
Sundance was my kind of film festival. The line between studio films and independent ones was blurring,
but most of the movies I screened still had that unidentifiable something that studio films could never seem
to capture.
A fresh coat of powdery snow had fallen on the old mining town of Park City the day before I arrived,
and little of it had melted away. It seemed like the perfect garnish to the Victorian storefronts. Near the
ski resort the buildings were newer, but downtown was, as much as I hated the word, quaint. Even
picturesque. I tried like hell to avoid using either term in my blog entries.
The energy in the town was incredible, and it hit my blood like a triple espresso. It was almost
impossible to get to sleep the first night, and I woke far too early the following morning, but I wasnt
tired. On edge, I thought Id go downstairs for a jog.
The hotel gym was a large, stark room with a couple treadmills, some stair climbers, a rack of free
weights, and an incredibly complicated weight machine. There were TV screens on the walls, all of them
tuned to cable news. I couldnt find a remote anywhere to change it.
About a mile into my workout, a woman came into the gym. She puttered around for a bit. Two guys
wandered in. I cranked up the speed on the treadmill and set into a good jogging pace. It felt great to put
all that bottled-up tension into my legs. Breathe in, breathe out. I put on my headphones and set my iPod
to my running music list.
While I didnt face the door, I was aware when more people came into the gym, because they sent off
vibes. Some of it was lust, but there was a lot of curiosity, too. Who knew that so many people cruised
gyms early in the morning? And what had them so keyed up? Maybe they were trying to figure out that
weight machine.
The news looped again. Apparently there was nothing new in the world to report, because Id seen
every story at least five times. No one was on the treadmill next to mine, which seemed odd considering
how many souls I sensed in the gym. Expectation flowed off them. It made me tense. Sweat slicked my
chest and my hair stuck to my face. I went into warm-down, slowing the treadmill little by little until I
walked the last mile My heart rate dropped into a good zone. I got off the treadmill and took off my
headphones.
There wasnt any noise from the other gym equipment. I seemed to be the only person huffing. A bad
feeling crept up my back. I took a swig of my water and turned around, dreading what I sensed waited
for me.
A fucking audience! No one was working out. They sat on the equipment and stared at me. Damn it to
hell. A woman lifted her mobile phone. She had to be kidding. I probably looked like shit. I lifted my shirt
to wipe sweat off my face.
Whoo-hoo! Flaunt it, baby! Her phone beeped as she took a picture.
Swallowing every choice word that sprung to my lips, I grabbed my towel. Several of the men stood. I
could feel their expectation roiling. The bastards were hoping to watch me shower.
Are you the guy that Harris Smith punched? the woman with the camera phone asked.
No. I knew what she meant, but didnt feel like correcting her. What I did feel like was zapping the
memory card in her phone, but I didnt.
***
By the time I showered and dressed in my hotel room, Id calmed down. Coffee. I needed coffee. Then
everything would be right with the world.
I took the tram into town. The sun struggled to rise over the mountains as it cast a cold glow in the sky. I
got off the tram and ambled down the sidewalk to a coffee house. Inside, the rich scent of fresh-brewed
coffee enveloped me.
Just what the doctor ordered, isnt it? the woman in line in front of me said as she caught me inhaling
deeply. She was one of those mom types, an earth goddess.
Right now, it smells like heaven. I grinned at her. Are you here for the festival, or skiing?
A little of both.
We shuffled forward in the line. What films are you planning to see? I asked. That was the question
everyone asked everyone else during festivals. My small talk skills needed some work, and women like
her were usually a pleasure to talk to.
She laughed. Oh, honey, I dont waste time in the theaters. Im here for the scene. Its not often that all
these stars are running around where I can see them. Yesterday, I passed by this nice-looking young man
and thought, why, he looks like Harris Smith, and then I realized it was him!
My smile froze in place.
He seems like a nice guy, real down to earth despite what the tabloids said. Is he? She put her hand
on my arm. You dated him, right? She leaned close. Is he as good of a fuck as he seems?
***
A guy walking past me on the sidewalk did a double take and spun around. Hey, Sam!
I turned my face into the collar of my jacket, but he grabbed me in one of those stiff armed pat-pat-pat
embraces. I didnt know you were here!
I grinned in relief when I recognized him. Wed met at a party in Silverlake a couple years back when he
was a student filmmaker. We ran into each other occasionally at parties. Hey! Its been a long time! I
said.
He mock-punched my arm. Big important film critic, huh?
Straight boys and their bonding rituals. I tried not to roll my eyes. Hardly.
He glanced down the street. I hate to be one of those guys, but He shoved a flyer into my hand.
Were trying to get people to come see our film. I know youre busy, but man, it would mean a lot to us
if we had an audience.
I glanced over the flyer. What time?
Now. I mean, were supposed to start in twenty minutes, and the only people who showed up either
worked on the film or are sleeping with someone who did. He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes
now.
I folded the flyer and slipped it into my back pocket. Okay, Ill see your film, but not if I have to sleep
with you.
His face went blank, and then he cracked up. Its a deal. He was still laughing when I headed for the
theater.
***
I walked past the theater twice before a tiny black woman yoo-hooed to me from across the street.
Are you looking for the screening? she asked.
I ambled over. Yes, maam, I am.
Its cleverly disguised as this empty storefront. Come on in.
My phone vibrated on my hip. Give me a second to answer this.
You better not use that as an excuse to slip away. She gave me a hard look.
Ill be right in. I swear. Cross my heart. I even made the motion.
She waved off my flirtatious smile. Go on.
I took a couple steps down the sidewalk before I answered. Hi.
Sam, Its Hector. Please dont hang up. I know youre angry, but now that youve had a couple days
to think over what I said at the coffee shop, I thought maybe youd be willing to talk to me.
My stomach did little flippy flops. Or maybe it was my heart. I couldnt pick just one emotion that I was
feeling. Most of them didnt make any sense together. I glanced down the street. A pack of people in ski
parkas crossing at the far corner pointed at me.
Im about to go into a screening, I told Hector.
When do you get back in town?
The group headed my way, still pointing. I heard one of them say my name. They started walking faster.
I really cant talk right now, I told him.
I understand. He hung up.
I walked in a circle. Hector didnt understand anything, because I was always saying the wrong thing.
Shit. Shit. Shit. When I looked up, the group was standing a couple feet away, watching me.
Ask him, a woman in the group whispered as she nudged her friend with her elbow.
Yeah, the movie is right here, I said. I gestured to the storefront door.
The group glanced around at each other while trying not to meet my eyes.
Well, come on. You cant expect them to hold the start forever, I said. I knew they werent there to
see the film, but damn it, if they wanted something from me, they had to give something back. Using a
touch of God magic, I herded them inside before they had a chance to think. Whether they stayed
through the whole screening or not was up to them, but I hoped guilt would keep them in their seats.
Finding their screening suddenly with a real audience, the cast and crew raced through a charmingly
bumbled intro, flipped off the lights, and started the film. The joy and hope flowing off them made my
night.
***
Day four of Sundance, people ran across the street, dodging cars, as they called out my name. Every
time a flash went off, I spun around, expecting to see Alberto smirking. He was smart enough to stay out
of sight, even though I could feel his unwanted presence. I think I was scowling in every picture people
took.
Feeling like a total clich, I bought a pair of dark sunglasses and a cowboy hat. Damn if it didnt seem to
work, at least for most of the day. When the sun went down, though, the sunglasses had to come off, and
people went back to pointing.
After a party that night, three giggling, twenty-something girls followed me from downtown to my hotel. I
tried to make the elevator doors close in their faces, but one stuck her arm in the door, and I didnt have
the heart to hurt her, so I let them in with me.
Hi! Youre, like, that famous guy, right? the tall one asked.
I shook my head.
Of course you are! the brunette said. Were actresses.
Oh. What was I supposed to say? Congratulations, youve been discovered! Let me introduce you to
all my casting agent friends! I didnt think so.
Youre cute, the brunette said as she stepped closer.
Im gay.
She tilted her head and smiled. That doesnt bother me. Her fingers brushed against my shirt and
walked up my chest. I tried to melt into the wall.
Gay? Thats what they all say, the third girl snickered as she grabbed my cock. Ooh, baby! You
really are packing.
Holy Hannah. When did girls get so aggressive? I was all for desire and open sexuality, but not when it
inspired panic instead of lust, and definitely not when strangers helped themselves to my body.
I twisted away from her. Im not joking, ladies. Im sure youre very nice, and I wish you the best of
luck in your careers, but whatever you have in mind, Im not interested. And stop feeling me up! I
smacked a manicured hand away.
Come on! Dont be such a meanie. Lets party! What floor is your room on?
I realized that I hadnt hit the button for my floor. We werent moving. I didnt dare let them know
where my room was, so I reached around the blonde and pushed the button for the lobby. The doors
opened. I dodged around the girls in a desperate run for the safety of the front desk. Laughing sharply,
they grabbed my cowboy hat. I escaped with my virtue intact. It felt like a fair trade.
***
I was average. Average height, average weight, average age, with medium brown hair and the most
unremarkable face I could summon to cover myself. No one looked twice, or even once, at me as I
ambled around Park City. It was bliss. After the assault in the elevator, I almost had a panic attack at the
thought of heading into town. Desperate times called for desperate measures, so I came up with my
disguise. It took a ton of God power to maintain, but some prices were worth paying.
In the back corner of a bustling caf, I sat alone at a table near the kitchen. Refills on my drink were
hard to come by as my terse waitress kept forgetting me, but perversely, I enjoyed it. She even brought
me the wrong sandwich. When I dared to complain, she drew up in cold disdain and insisted thats what
Id ordered. Her unspoken command was that I take what I was given and like it, or else. I wondered
for a moment if Deal had a sister.
A shopping bag smacked me in the head as two couples took the table next to me. The woman didnt
apologize. If anything, she seemed annoyed at me for daring to take space she wanted for all her
shopping.
Did I tell you I got a picture of Jennifer Aniston the other day? the bitchy woman asked her friends.
Well, I saw Harris Smith, the other friend said.
Why did spotting a celebrity make anyone more important? I never understood that. Okay, so I was
eavesdropping, and that was bad manners, but the bitch kept slamming her purse into my leg. Besides,
they were talking really loudly.
Did you get Harris picture? the bitch demanded.
No, her friend admitted.
The bitch waved her hands around, almost smacking me. So it doesnt count. I also got a picture of that
Sam Downey. Look. She dug through her bag and brought out her camera.
Dewey, you idiot. Hes like a porn star or something. Look at that bulge. I hear hes got like fourteen
inches or something, her friend said.
I choked on my mouthful of sandwich. Id never put a ruler beside my cock, but fourteen inches? No
way. A hard on that big could make a guy pass out.
One of the guys grabbed the camera away from her and looked at the screen. That faggot? He
wouldnt know what to do with four inches.
Too bad the restaurant menu wasnt big enough to cover my face. Not because I was afraid of being
recognized. I didnt want them to see my revulsion
She snatched the camera back. Oh, he knows, all right. You should have seen the way he moved. Hell,
just standing there, he oozed sex.
Fag sex, the guy reminded her.
People at other tables cast glances at the foursome. Their voices had bullied all other talk from the
seating area.
The other woman leaned over the table. I heard that he got caught fucking Harris Smith behind the
screen at a premier, and Harris boyfriend caught them and beat the shit out of Sam.
Harris? Sam? What, were we on a first-name basis all of a sudden?
The bitch shook her head. No. Thats not what happened at all. Harris was fucking Sam in the pool at
an orgy in Malibu. Everyone knows that.
Mr. Deweys a movie critic, not a porn star, and both those stories are wrong, I mumbled.
Excuse me? Are you listening to our conversation? She turned to her friends. Some people are just so
fucking rude.
***
Fuming, I stalked down the sidewalk. Porn star? Faggot? I muttered. That guy at the table with the
bitch was going to suffer a streak of impotence, I decided. Unfortunately, the bitch had never had good
sex -- something I knew simply from probing her aura -- so it wasnt as if I could send some wicked
karma back to her. At least not sex-wise. Some other punishment was due, though. Relishing thoughts of
horrific revenge -- her teeth falling out, her impotent boyfriend dumping her for her friend -- I got in line
for the tram to my next screening.
No, I couldnt do that. All of those punishments infringed on another Gods territory. The only way I
could harm her was by messing with her sex life, and she already didnt have one worth speaking of. I
scowled. Even if she did, I wasnt sure I could bring myself to hurt a girl. Actually, I wasnt raised to use
violence against anyone, so I probably wouldnt harm her male friend either, but I sure enjoyed thinking
about it.
Someone tsk-tsked behind me. Since I figured I was all but invisible, I didnt pay too much attention
until a body pressed close to my back and whispered in my ear, Did you have to pick such an ugly
disguise?
They were all out of clown suits. Id say its a pleasure to see you, Alberto, but it isnt. Go away.
Alberto was in a tight pair of pants, boots, a thick sweater, and a cowboy hat that looked suspiciously
familiar. Seeing the recognition in my eyes, he tipped the brim. Want it back?
No.
You should have taken them up on their offer. Those girls were a lot of fun. Ill bet they could have
taught you a few tricks.
No, thank you.
I like both, you know. Men and women.
I know.
Of course you do. Albertos smile was like the sun coming out, but over parched desert. Anything that
valued its skin ran from its lethal rays. Your friend Deal, now shes a Goddess I could worship. I think
she enjoys tormenting me. I show up on her doorstep; she slams the door in my face. I do yard work
where she can see me. I know she watches, but she pretends she doesnt. Every time I flirt with her, I get
the feeling shes this close to teaching me a lesson. He held his thumb and forefinger close together.
Then he sighed. But she doesnt.
If only she would, everything would be right in my world. Maybe she will.
I can only hope. But she seems to have a new lover. Alberto put both hands to his heart as if
grievously pained. You know shes having an affair with Hector, dont you?
I was wrong. Albertos grin wasnt the sun. It was a scorpions stinger.
Dont believe me? He grabbed my arm.
Dont fucking touch me, Alberto. But before I could jerk away, he phased us both to a place I knew
all too well.
***
I dont know who was more surprised. Hector, me, or Deal, who stood against the wall where my altars
used to hang in Hectors living room, her back pink with flogger marks.
Who the hell are you? Hector asked when he saw me. Then his anger turned to horror. Sam? Oh
Gods. Sam. What are you doing here?
Deal huddled with her arms to her sides to hide her bared breasts.
The world was slowly tilting. I didnt know where to look.
Albertos grin was so smug that I wanted to punch him. See, Sam? I was telling the truth.
Dont you dare move, Boy! Hector dropped the flogger and strode over to me. Dont you dare
phase away. This is one time you wont run.
I was too stunned to think. Deal grabbed her white blouse and pulled it on. She seemed a little
embarrassed, but hid it with annoyance. Hector seemed embarrassed, too. Id never seen him flustered.
Was he into women? That was news to me.
Hector took a slow step around the couch. Now, Sam, dont jump to any conclusions. Dont get
freaked out.
Was I freaked out? Oh, yeah. I was. My mind raced in a thousand directions, but couldnt figure out
where to go.
This isnt what it looks like. Its only a training session.
Training? I could have believed almost anyone as his slave before Id believe that Deal had bowed to
him.
Deal buttoned her blouse quickly. Its just business, Sam.
Seen enough? Alberto asked. He phased me back to Park City. I stumbled back from him. I know
how you feel, Sam. I thought I had something going on with Deal, and she ran to Hector. Betrayed, Sam.
They betrayed us. And you think Im not your friend. He walked away, leaving me confused and very,
very angry.
***
My phone rang almost immediately after Alberto left me standing in the tram queue. I didnt have to look
at the number to know it was Hector.
Please give me a chance to explain, he said.
You dont owe me any explanations, Hector. You can do whatever you want.
Suddenly gruff, he said, Good, then Ill explain over dinner when you get back in town. Just as friends.
Okay? Are you still living with Ophir?
Im camping out at Joeys. Listen, Hector, Im not sure if I can--
Eight oclock. Sharp. He hung up.
Damn it. I didnt want to be civilized and nice. I didnt want to go out to dinner and make polite
chit-chat. What I wanted What I wanted was some hot, nasty ex-sex. Damn him for using that Master
voice on me. My cock was already hard.
Chapter 17
Ooh. Someone broke out the Dolce and Gabbana wardrobe, Joey said when I came out of his
bathroom. He leaned over his desk, where he had one of those really cool flat-panel monitors that he
used for his graphic design work. Take-out wrappers spread across the edges of his desk. That cant
possibly be for a mere mortal. Whos the lucky trick?
My face got hot.
He sniffed the air. Is that aftershave?
The hair stylist said I should use this stuff--
Sam Dewey used hair product? Joey pretended to faint. Whats that? The third sign of the
apocalypse?
Very funny. I was tempted to crawl back into the bathroom to hide. There was no way, come hell or
high water, that I was going to admit that what he smelled was the little potion I worked into the hair
gloop. He knew I was a witch, sort of, but I think he took that to mean in a religious sense. At least he
accepted my collection of altars without batting an eye. But he would have teased me mercilessly if he
knew Id brewed a come closer spell special for my dinner date.
He gave me a long look. Where you going, hot stuff?
Just dinner.
And then straight to bed, he snickered.
The security buzzer sounded through an old intercom on the wall.
Gotta go. I bolted for the door.
Joey jumped over the couch and blocked my way. Oh, no, you dont. I want to see who it is. Is it
Harris Smith? I soooo want to meet him.
Please let me go, Joey.
Joeys grin spread wider. And here he is now. I cant wait to see who the mystery date is. He flung
open the door.
Hectors hand was raised to knock. He lowered it. Hello, Joey.
For once, Joey was speechless.
Hector was in those sexy jeans, a casual shirt, and his black leather jacket.
I thought we were going to dinner, I said. Id never felt overdressed around Hector before.
We are. You look great, Sam, but you might want to change into something more comfortable.
Bewildered, I stumbled back to the bedroom. Joey followed me.
Hector? he whispered.
What to wear? Most of my clothes were in storage because Joey and I had to share his little closet. I
pulled out the black cashmere sweater. No, Hector had seen me in that already.
Man, oh man. Joey closed the door.
Is that a good man, oh man, or a bad one? I pulled on my jeans.
I dont know, dude. You tell me. You left him for a reason.
Im aware of that.
Joey bounded off the bed and shoved clothes aside until he found a soft gray thermal shirt. Youre such
a dork. Put this on. He eyed me. Not too dressy, not too casual, and it shows off your pecs. He
pulled the snap collar wide open and fluffed out a little of my chest hair. Perfect. Push up the sleeves,
too. I dont know how you manage to have sexy forearms, but you do. Might as well flaunt them.
I sank down on his bed. Am I making a mistake? He says hes changed. But you know what an idiot I
am. I dont trust myself to make any decisions about him.
Joey dug into his back pocket. He withdrew his wallet and handed me a couple condoms. Its just
dinner, Sam.
He said just as friends.
Better make it three, then. He held up another condom. Whats that look for? Youre the one who
cant keep your pants on when hes around.
I snatched the package from his hand.
Dont stay out too late. You have a big day tomorrow. Golden Globes!
Thanks for reminding me.
***
What are we doing here? I asked as Hector pulled into the parking lot of my favorite Long Beach
diner. Every time I thought I knew where I stood, he yanked the rug out from under me.
Dinner.
Yeah, but It was one of my favorite burger joints, but Hector dismissed it as a greasy, boy food
joint. So why in the world had he picked there, of all the places we could have gone? Maybe, compared
to canned ravioli, even their food looked good to him.
He came around the truck and opened the door for me. Yeah, but what?
Im just kind of surprised, thats all, I said.
Do you want to go somewhere else?
I got out of the truck. Nope. I walked across the parking lot. Hector followed. Every muscle in my
back tensed as if I could feel his gaze on me. As tempting as it was to look back and see if he was
prowling after me, I resisted.
The diner was the kind of place where you seated yourself. None of the booths were free, so we
dodged around bustling waitresses to grab two stools at the counter. So much for my fantasy of giving
him head while hiding under the thick table linens of some upscale restaurant.
I grabbed a menu. It was a laminated card, protected from coffee spills and flying ketchup. A short
Mexican guy behind the counter slapped forks and napkins in front of us before rushing off. Further
down, a bigger Mexican guy manned a sizzling grill.
Once upon a time, I could have eaten one of their double bacon chili cheeseburgers, onion rings, and a
shake, and still had room for a whole row of Oreos when we got home. My cast-iron stomach was a
thing of the past, so I opted for the carnitas soft tacos and a salad. Hector ordered their meatloaf.
Its not as good as yours, Sam, but still pretty good. Would you like a taste?
Truthfully, I hated meatloaf, but he held a forkful up for me, and I opened my mouth out of habit. He
watched my eyes as my lips closed around the tines. Slowly, he withdrew the fork. He cleared his throat.
I sipped my drink. How could two people whod fucked so many times be so awkward with their
clothes on? Our small talk was pitiful. It was a relief when we paid our checks and headed back to his
truck.
Did you want to go home right away, or are you okay driving around a little bit? Hector asked.
That overly polite dance we were doing frustrated the hell out of me. What were we doing? Was that
being friends?
I dont know, I admitted. Trapped in indecision, I couldnt even figure out what my options were.
Boy!
That jolted me out of my mental haze.
He opened the truck door for me. Get in.
Zing! Direct shot to my groin. I climbed in.
***
We drove down to Seal Beach. The parking lots were closed, but that didnt stop a God from pulling
into a parking spot with a view of the Pacific. We watched the moonlit waves crash on the deserted
beach. A flock of gulls settled in for the night on the sand.
Hectors scent smelled like home. I wanted to rest my head on his shoulder and feel his body close to
mine, but he said just as friends, so I huddled against the passenger door and tried not to make a fool of
myself.
Theres nothing going on between Deal and I, Hector said.
That I could believe. Absolutely. His aura shone with truth, but I didnt need to see it to know there was
nothing sexual between the two of them. So why did I feel as if Id joined the Mad Hatters tea party?
There was sort of a logic to everything Id seen, but it didnt make sense with any reality I knew.
Hector drew a cigar out of his pocket. Do you mind?
I shook my head. He lit it and exhaled. Damn him for being so hot.
A little over a month ago, there was a mudslide that closed the Pacific Coast Highway heading into
Malibu. Im sure you heard about it on the news, but since it happens almost every year after the winter
rains start, you probably didnt think too much about it. Angelena, however, was furious. It seems that
Alberto caused it.
He didnt!
As you always say, Sam, the only real sin in LA is messing up traffic. An unforgivable sin. Its even
worse when one God trespasses on another Gods territory, and despite being warned, Alberto keeps
doing it. Hes very unpopular in the neighborhood. Even the Goddess of First Dates wants his head on a
platter. The other Gods came to me and demanded that I do something about him.
I would have liked to have seen Hector whip Albertos ass.
I dont play with boys who arent mine. He gave me a stern look. Maybe he knew what was going
through my mind and was warning me not to even think about it. So I told them I wouldnt. They
werent happy about it, but no one was willing to do anything, until Alberto made a serious error. He
messed with Deal.
No! I pictured Deals cold eyes staring down Alberto. What an idiot he was. Of all the Goddesses to
cross, he chose the one who would relish her revenge.
Hectors grin was huge. Yes. Shes been working for months to put together a movie deal. One of
Albertos worshippers wanted the same script for a vanity project, so he stole it right out from under her.
She wanted blood, as you can imagine. So I agreed to teach her how to be a Master. Thats why I was
flogging her. You know what a stickler I am for technique. I dont think anyone should use a whip or a
flogger on someone until theyve felt it first. Theres nothing between Deal and I.
You said that before.
I wanted to make sure you knew.
Okay. Now what?
You sounded angry when I called, Sam.
I was pissed off at Alberto. I'd told him to leave me alone. I sort of told off Brett, too. Were not
friends anymore, if we ever really were. You told me all the time that he was being a shit to me, but I
wouldnt listen. He finally pushed me too far, though, so I told him I never wanted to see him again. Its
scary how easy its getting to cut people out of my life.
I dont think its that easy for you. I think you give people every chance and then some. Its not your
fault when they blow it. Sometimes, walking away is the only option left. He sounded so mournful.
Anyway, I just wanted to be sure you knew that. He started the engine. Its getting late, and you have
a big day tomorrow, Sam. I better get you back to Joeys.
***
When we got to Joeys, Hector came around and opened the truck door for me.
Thank you for hearing me out, Sam.
I stared at the ground. Small talk. Maybe I could delay him with small talk until I figured out a way
around that just friends thing. I owed it to you.
You didnt owe me anything, Sam.
We shuffled our feet. I had to think of something quick.
That kilt I had made for you is at my house. I can send it to you, Hector said. But you probably dont
want to wear it. Never mind.
If youd like to see me in it, maybe I could come over and show you how it looks on. I stepped
closer, hoping to turn an innocent little goodnight kiss into something else. Just friends? Not if I could help
it.
His voice got soft. Im not so sure thats a good idea. He leaned against the truck.
Did he mean a kiss or seeing me in the kilt?
Alberto stepped out from behind a tree. Its a terrible idea.
I fumed. Go away, Alberto.
You may want Hector back, Sam, but he wont want you.
I already know about him and Deal, so give it up, asshole. I was beyond playing nice. As Hector said,
I gave everyone way too many chances, and Alberto had already taken all of his.
You may know about him and Deal, but does he know about you, Sam?
Panic hit my chest like a supernova. I couldnt begin to defend myself if I didnt know the charges, but I
didnt want Hector to hear anything that would set him off on a jealous rage. I hated Alberto. Hated him.
That doesnt concern me, Hector said through gritted teeth.
No? So you dont mind hearing that he was caught fucking Harris Smith in the mens room in Palm
Springs? Harris boyfriend sure did. Im sure you saw the pictures. They were in all the papers and on
TV.
My heart sank as Hectors hands balled into fists.
Waves of dread swept through me. It didnt matter what I said, of course. Hector always believed what
he wanted to, and he always wanted to believe that I was a cheater. This time wouldnt be any different.
I just knew it.
Alberto grinned triumphantly as he looked from Hector to me. How long did you expect the God of
Sex to go without fucking? He called me the same night he left you for a little play time.
I cringed. Hector crossed his arms over his chest and looked at his fingernails. Oh man. He was furious.
Yeah. He fucked me that night, Hector. Pounded my ass for hours. Sam sure does like Latino men,
doesnt he?
My last chance with Hector had been snatched right out of my hands. I should have flirted with him. I
should have poured on the seduction when we were at the beach. I was going to kill Alberto.
Hector made an odd noise, something between a quiet sneeze and a snort. He flexed his fingers out.
Sam fucked you? he asked quietly. Was that laughter in his voice? I didnt dare hope.
All night long. Alberto put his hand on his hip.
Hector pinched his nose. Sam fucked you?
Yes. Alberto sounded a little less sure of himself.
Hector glanced over at me so quickly that I wasnt sure if I really saw him wink. Thats something I
would have liked to have seen. I dont suppose you taped it?
No.
Oh, well. Maybe next time you bend over for him, youll let me watch. Tell me, Alberto. How long did
Sam fuck your ass before you begged for mercy? One minute? Two?
The cocky smile slid off Albertos face. Hours.
Hector seemed to grow bigger with each deep breath he took. His mouth was a harsh line.
I didnt need to check his aura to see the dark fury settling around him. Oh, fuck. How many times had
we played out this scene? Hector didnt lash out with his fists anymore, but his anger was bad enough.
The air seemed too thick to breathe. This was what Id run away from. I couldnt take it again.
Alberto stepped closer to the truck. Well, I didnt mean he fucked me for hours. We were going at it
for a real long time. I didnt keep track of how long he was pounding me, but I came, like, four times.
After he did me, I fucked him. Bareback.
My temper boiled over. In your dreams. I dont like you. How many times did I tell you that I didnt
want to be famous? A hundred? A million? It doesnt matter, because you never listened. As for fucking
you? Hah! I wouldnt touch you on a dare.
You dont want fame, Sam? Fine. Ill stop using my power to make you famous, Alberto said.
Its about time you took the fucking hint.
He drew himself up. Dont be so sure about that, Sam. Fame has another side, you know.
I shrugged. I prefer to be an unknown.
Albertos dark eyes sparked. Oh, no, Sam. Im going to make you infamous. His hands rose and I
could feel him gathering a powerful curse. Tomorrow at the Golden Globes, youre going to become the
laughing stock of the world. Theyre going to put clips of your telecast on YouTube so that people can
ridicule you. You are going to be so humiliated that youll never show your face in public again. Youll be
ruined, Sam. And I am going to relish every second of your downfall.
Enough! Hector bellowed.
I shrank back.
Instead of coming at me, though, Hector stalked over to Alberto. Maybe a month ago you could have
convinced me that what you said was true, but I promised Sam Id changed, and I always keep my
word. My bullshit detector is going off, Alberto. Ive seen how Sam reacts to you. You disgust him.
I didnt have to say a word, and Hector believed me! That was a first. Maybe he really had figured that
out. Id never been so relieved in my life. Maybe there was hope?
Albertos faade was slipping, but he tried to bluff his way through it. Oh, yeah?
And dont you dare ever threaten Sam again. Ive had it with you, Alberto. Every God has. If you
dont change your ways really soon, theres going to be hell to pay.
Ooh! Are you going to spank me, Hector? Alberto clapped his hands. Im so scared. Come on. I
dare you. I bet Sam will just love watching you spank another boy.
Im giving you a chance, Alberto, Hector warned.
And Im telling you to go fuck yourself, troll.
What an idiot. Hector rarely gave warnings. Alberto should have listened.
Hector whipped out his mobile phone and dialed. Its time, was all he said.
What was that about? Alberto asked. I wanted to know, too.
Hector grinned. Youll find out soon enough. He winked at me. Dont you move, Boy. Ill be right
back. He grabbed Albertos arm. Ive set you up on a blind date with your destiny, Alberto. You dont
want to keep her waiting. They disappeared.
There I was, alone on the street, feeling like an idiot. I would have gone up to Joeys apartment, but
Hector told me not to move, so I didnt. But I could think, and where my mind went wasnt a good
place. Alberto had cursed me. The Golden Globes telecast was going to be a huge disaster. My tongue
already felt thick in my mouth. People were going to laugh at me. Humiliation galore. I didnt think I could
endure that. I sank down onto the curb. My life was fucking over.
The God of Misery, who had impeccable timing, trotted along the gutter and leapt into my lap. Its tail
curled around my neck and squeezed.
Moments later, Hector phased back, alone. Sorry about that. Whats wrong?
I sighed. H-h-h-he--
Oh, no, you dont. Dont do this to yourself, Sam. Youre going to be great tomorrow. I know youve
been tormenting yourself for a year with visions of everything going wrong, but you let your imagination
run away with you.
C-c-c-cursed m-m-me.
Only you can give his curse power, Sam. Dont listen to him.
The smile I summoned up was pretty sad. Id managed to push the upcoming telecast into a corner of
my mind and forget about it, but it was less than twenty-four hours away, and it was going to be the
worst night of my life.
There was no use prolonging my agony with Hector. I had some serious mind-fucking to do, followed
by a major meltdown. I have w-w-w-w. I gave up trying to say the word. What was the use?
Dont chew on your lip, Sam.
Hector reached down to take the God of Misery by the scruff of its neck. Get out of here. He tossed
it down the sidewalk.
Misery scrambled for the bushes.
If you keep feeding Misery, its going to keep coming back. You should know that by now. Dont do
this to yourself, Sam. Dont give in to it.
Too late. I was barely treading water in a sea of self-doubt.
Boy! I know what you need, Hector said. Would you like for me to bind you? Maybe you could get
to your subspace and relax.
Relief and hope swept through me. If Hector wanted to get back together, who gave a shit about the
telecast? He said he wasnt with anyone. I wasnt with anyone. I still loved him. He couldnt have
stopped loving me so soon, could he? Maybe he took me to my favorite restaurant for dinner because he
was flirting with me. Maybe he was trying to woo me back. I grasped his hand and let him pull me to my
feet. I fell against him accidentally on purpose. All he had to do was put his arms around me, and I was
his. I smiled at him.
Hector put his hands on my arms and stepped back from me. Just as friends, of course, he said.
Well, fuck.
***
Home. I was home, and I knew it. Even the warding spells at the front door seemed glad to let me pass
into the house. Hector let me stand inside the living room and take it all in at my own speed. Everything
felt like it fit. There was space for me that was my own, and I didnt feel as if I had to apologize to
anyone for being in their way. The house smelled right, if a little musty. I swore I could recite the title of
every book on every shelf lining the walls. I knew where the mended holes were in the afghan we kept
folded over the back of the couch. It was my space. His space. Our home. Except that it wasnt
anymore.
Hector wiped a hand over the coffee table and picked up a glass. His smile was guilty, but sweet. If Id
known I was going to bring you here, I would have cleaned up first. He set down the glass. Did you
want to get started right away? He glanced down the hallway toward the bedroom and winced. Uh,
give me a second.
It didnt do at all to laugh at a Master, at least not to his face, so I wandered over to the front window
and looked out at the neighborhood. Deals McMansion wasnt right across the street, but I could see
most of the first story. Lights were on. I wondered if she had Alberto under control and if shed talked
him into accepting punishment. Of course she had. She was Deal. Besides, I was sure that floggers and
whips werent the only training Hector had given her. Hed probably taught her the fine art of the Baby,
Im disappointed in you speech. I only hoped it was as effective on Alberto as it was on me.
Hector came back into the living room. Okay. Its presentable. Just dont expect anything near your
standards, Sam.
I expected to see the bedroom in shambles, but it looked fine to me. What did he think my standards
were? Oh, sure, the chenille bedspread had obviously been pulled up over wrinkled sheets, and I saw a
pair of black socks under the bed, but that was it.
Do you want me to bind you over your clothes?
I gave him a look that normally would have earned a hard spanking. The man had used a crop on my
balls, bitten my nipples, given me an enema, shoved his cock in my mouth, and made me beg him to fuck
me. We were pretty much past the point where Id balk at a little nudity. I pulled off my shirt.
Hector sat on the bed and watched me undress. Hed seen me do it a thousand times, but this time his
gaze never left me, as if he wanted to remember every single moment. It made me a little self-conscious.
Some color spread over my cheeks, but I neatly folded my jeans as hed taught me to and then stood
with my head bowed and my hands behind my back as I waited for him to give me an order.
He walked around me slowly. I expected him to run his hands over my skin, but he didnt. By the time
hed made the full circle, my nerves were trying to reach beyond my body to connect with him. The wake
of air that passed across my shoulder told me how close hed come to me, but he never touched.
I think a full rope corset. Then Ill bind your arms. His voice broke, as if his throat was sore. If you
need it, then Ill do your legs, too.
I nodded.
***
Hector didnt rub the rope over my nipples or my wrists. He seemed to go out of his way to avoid
turning me on. Even when the ropes went between my thighs, he managed to maneuver around my balls
without once caressing them. He worked in silence, his head down as if every loop needed complete
focus. His hands trembled as the rows drew close to my navel.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing. The more I was bound, the more control I had over
my tongue. He was right. I needed this.
Hector finished the last loop above my groin. Then, standing behind me, he gently made me extend my
arm.
I remembered him binding my arms the first time I came to his house. Or was it the second? Id been so
nervous, scared really, not of him, but of where it could lead. Hed been patient. As always, he seemed
to sense exactly what I needed. Even now, when we were being just friends, he was willing to help me
get to my subspace.
I withdrew into my thoughts. In my mind, I was in Hectors house, but like a ghost. I couldnt seem to
move past the hallway, though. If there had been a meditation labyrinth on the floor, it might have
explained how I walked and walked but never seemed to get anywhere.
I sighed. What I wanted was for him to call me Baby. Just once. Maybe caress my face. I wanted him to
tell me that I could ignore the rest of the world and float along in perfect peace, and that he would take
care of everything for me. I wanted him to make the Golden Globes telecast disappear from my world,
and Alberto, too, and Brett, and everything else I didnt like. I didnt want to have to think.
But we were being just friends.
Even when hed been my Papi, he hadnt let me run and hide from the world like that. Inside the perfect
little fantasy world in my mind, though, he said, Keep floating in your bubble, Baby. Ill make everything
all right. Dont worry. Just relax. Let Papi take care of everything. And since I wanted to believe he
would, I relaxed into the rope binding me. It was his shield around me. I was safe and content. Nothing
could touch me. Not even him.
I wanted to look into his eyes and show him how much I appreciated him caring for me like that, but he
was too busy binding my arms together behind me. I cleared my throat.
He hesitated for only a moment before making the next loop.
Once his boy, always his boy, he once said of Ophir. I didnt want to be like Ophir, though. I couldnt
imagine watching Hector love another man and pretending that it didnt kill me. If I could convince him to
let me serve him again, maybe he would stand as a buffer between me and the world. Maybe I could quit
my job and just serve him. Life would be so simple for me. It was the perfect plan. Of course, he didnt
know about it. Would he take me back? Maybe.
I cleared my throat again and struggled to get on top of my words. It wasnt easy, but I concentrated
and forced them out. I d-d-d-d-dont w-w-want to be friends.
Hector dropped the ends of the rope. They fell in a dull thump on the bedroom floor as he walked to his
closet. Maybe he needed a break. He bowed his head.
I dont want to be just friends, Hector. I cant do that.
Hector spun around. He looked as if Id struck him. His mouth was open, and his eyes were wet. You
wont even try? His voice was hoarse.
I did. Im sorry. It wont work.
He stumbled toward me, but stopped. Honey, please. Then he ran out of words and tears gushed
down his face.
I had a horrible feeling that Id fucked up and said the wrong thing again.
He lifted a hand as if he meant to reach out for me, but let it fall. Im sorry I embarrassed you at Harris
premier, Baby. Im so sorry for all those times I accused you of cheating. All those times you were
frightened of me, every time I said terrible things to you. Im so sorry. You deserved so much better.
My brain couldnt seem to get around what Id just heard. Hector never apologized. And hed called me
Baby.
His big brown eyes seemed tired and weighted by worry. Please forgive me. He shook.
Gods, I could be so slow sometimes. There I was, off in my little fantasy world again, thinking only
about what I wanted, when right in front of me, Hector was falling apart. Was I always so blind to the
obvious? Maybe I was that selfish. I pulled on the ropes binding me. They wouldnt move. I had to get
out.
I tried to lift my arms. Damn ropes. I tugged until it dawned on me that I was being stupid again. Using
my powers, I made them drop to the floor so that I could invite him into my arms.
Hector collapsed against my chest, shuddering. He wrapped his arms tightly around me. I promise I will
never treat you that way again. Just give me one more chance. Please, Sam. Please.
My hands rubbed soothing circles over his back as I pressed my lips to the top of his head. Okay. One
more chance.
Youd come back to me?
I already have. The only thing keeping us apart was the jealousy, Hector. I believe you when you say
youve conquered it. Thats all I wanted. It was all I needed. Now let me give you what you want. I
forgive you.
He searched my face as if he didnt dare believe what Id said. Doubt ebbed and flowed over him, but
gradually, hope and belief pushed it aside. He saw that I meant it. He started to cry again.
But you better watch your ass.
I swear Ill be good. He tried to smile, but didnt have enough control over his mouth to make it stay.
He wiped his eyes.
Even though I was happy, and I was sure he was, too, it felt as if our hearts were breaking. The mood
was too intense for me to bear any longer. Thats a good boy. Now go pour me a whiskey and bring
me a cigar.
Hector laughed as he smacked my butt. Smartass. He hugged me again, inhaling deeply as he pressed
his face to my neck. Ive missed you so much, Baby.
Serious, I told him, Im sorry I left you.
He shook his head. Never say that, Sam. It was the smartest thing you ever did, for you, for me, for
us.
Chapter 18
While the make-up lady fussed with my hair in the production trailer at the Golden Globes, my producer
assured me that theyd feed me information on the actors and actresses through my headset, so I didnt
have to worry about forgetting a name.
About ten minutes before we were supposed to start, I was escorted to my position on the red carpet.
Even though I had the producer talking in my ear, it felt like just me and the cameraman. Sensing that I
was terrified, my burly cameraman cracked corny jokes. He was sweet enough not to say anything mean
about my kilt, though.
A few flashes went off, but for the most part the paparazzi ignored us. Deal must have had Alberto
under control. The photographers focus, and ours, was the end of the red carpet. We were under a
glass covering that they had to put up in case it rained. Through it, I could see a bunch of fans in rain
ponchos standing in bleachers behind police barricades.
I leaned over, trying to see why nothing was happening.
They hold the limos until the broadcast starts, my producer said.
I nodded. I bounced on the tips of my toes. I tried not to think of the reward Hector had promised if I
managed to get through the night without stuttering, because the only thing I wore under my kilt was a
metal cock ring, and if I dwelt too much on that very enticing reward, the front of my kilt was going to
give my thoughts away. I tested my microphone again. Im sure my producer came very close to telling
me to take a Ritalin.
Then, suddenly, there were people walking up the carpet. I wasnt stationed at a prime spot like the
network people were, but at least I wasnt stuck with the local media. My cameraman signaled that the
camera was on. In my ear, the producer calmly counted down, Were live, in four, three, two, one.
My mouth went dry and my mind went blank at the same time. A jolt of heat seared across my ass
cheek. Papi was reminding me to be a good boy, or else. That made me smile. And then, suddenly, I
was on. That professional side of me roared into control.
I did a smooth three-line intro of myself and the show, turned to look down the red carpet, and saw an
actress I sort of knew walking my way. She stopped to chat with me. Small talk, really, but with that
edge of knowing that hundreds of thousands of people were listening in. I think I kissed her cheek. I
might have even said something nice about her dress. A million pictures were taken. Then she moved on,
and another actor was slowly walking up, timing his arrival for the actress departure. Thank the Gods
they knew what they were doing. It helped a lot.
For an adrenaline junkie like me, hosting a red carpet show before the Golden Globes was a dream
come true. Stupid me, I'd never thought about the upside. It was like the rush of being at a press junket,
only a thousand times more intense. By the time everyone was inside the hotel ballroom and wed cut to
commercial, I was almost sad it was over.
My cameraman lowered the camera off his shoulder and gave me a thumbs up. The night wasnt over
for us. We had to go backstage to film all the winners, but my time on camera was pretty much over.
The producer shook my hand. You almost had me worried for a moment there, but George was right
about you. You know your stuff. Good job.
George called. He said all kinds of things, his words rushing over each other in a race to get out. And
you said you werent good on camera! Naughty boy. Were getting all kinds of calls about you already.
Hold on. Lyle wants to talk to you.
Excellent job, Sam. We here at Park Avenue Magazine are proud of you, Lyle said. I swore the man
was a talking piece of wood.
George must have taken back the phone, because he came on again. See? Better get ready for the
Academy Awards, Sam. Oh! And we have to talk about the possibility of a syndicated film review show.
The buzz around you is sensational!
Maybe Deal didnt have as much control over Alberto as I thought. Or, worse, maybe she'd told him to
do it. I gulped. She always wanted to control another Gods power. Maybe handing her dominion over
the God of Fame wasnt such a great idea after all.
I thanked them all for their kind words and support, but honestly, it was the goose under my kilt from an
invisible hand that made me smile in relief. Hollywood people were notorious for making nice face to
face, but I knew I could trust Hector to tell me the truth.
Epilogue
Boy! Hector bellowed from our bedroom.
I peeked around the entryway into the kitchen to see him wearing a towel around his waist. Sir?
Dont you dare try the big blue eyes routine on me. Youre supposed to be getting dressed for the
party, but the clothes I laid out for you are still on the--
Pushing the sleeves of my tight t-shirt above my forearms, I stepped into the living room.
Hector shifted from stern poppa into prowler mode as he sauntered closer. Somebody went shopping.
I call it my highland muscle-boy look. Is it okay? I glanced down at my casual, black utility kilt and
black leather work boots. You know how hopeless I am about fashion. But they were selling them at a
booth at the Pride Festival and they looked comfortable, and Suddenly, I was really self-conscious.
What had I been thinking? Ill change.
Hector grasped my arm as I tried to pass him. He yanked me close. Dont you dare.
Shivers went down my spine. I rubbed my hand over the beard Id decided to grow a couple days
back. Maybe I should shave.
He dragged me down the hallway. Maybe he wanted to shave me. He did that sometimes. But we went
past the bathroom and were almost to our bedroom when he trapped me against the wall between his
arms. His groin ground against mine as he gently nipped at my neck above the collar. Scruffy looks
good on you, Baby.
Maybe the kilt was a good idea after all. I lifted my chin as his teeth worked up my neck.
By the time he got to my mouth, he was getting rough.
Panting, I broke away from his kiss. I told everyone to be here at eleven oclock, sharp. You should
get dressed.
Not yet, Boy.
I dont mind you walking around in a towel all afternoon. Its up to you, but--
The doorbell rang.
Thank the Gods for prompt guests. I gave Hector a quick kiss and escaped to go answer the door.
***
Angelenas girlfriend Shelia, Joey, Ophirs three boys, and Harris played basketball on the driveway
while Angelena and I watched from the sidelines. I wanted to play, but not in a kilt.
Across the lawn, Hector lorded over the grill. It was his birthday, so I didnt dare suggest he let me do
it. Ophir and Deal sat at a table near my herb garden and talked. Alberto sat in the shade under the table,
panting.
It was Deals fault for indulging the little beast. Alberto wanted to be her puppy, so there he was in a
black rubber doggy suit, including a face mask, paws, and a tail that wouldnt stop wagging even as he
whimpered to reach his water dish. Apparently, Deal liked everyone to know that her puppy was a boy
dog, because the butt plug tail he was wagging so enthusiastically had an extension that pulled his balls up
where no one could miss them.
Hector bent down and patted Albertos head. Whos a good doggie? he asked in a silly voice.
Alberto jumped at Hector and wagged his tail even harder. Hector filled Albertos water dish with a beer
and moved it close so Alberto could lap noisily from it.
Deal should have that mutt neutered, I said.
Joey paused as he dribbled past me. How long are you going to hold that grudge against him, Sam?
As long as I still enjoy it.
Angelena caught the ball when it bounced out of bounds and tossed it to Sheila. You have to admit,
since Deal took control over him, hes been much better. I think he was lonely and didnt know how to
be-- She shot a glance at the humans around us. He didnt know how to fit in here. So he went about it
the wrong way, but Sam, its been a couple years now. Let it go. The rest of us have.
I couldnt believe shed take Albertos side. Except that the brat doesnt get the hint! Every time he
tries to kiss up to me, I get even more famous. First I got that TV show, then that little independent film
Deal and I produced won Sundance, I whispered to her.
And you had nothing to do with your own success?
Maybe I did, I grumbled.
Truthfully, Deal had Alberto so under her thumb that I doubted hed dare use his powers without her
permission, but shed been a co-producer on our film, and since she was my agent, shed get a cut from
my TV show, so she had every reason to make sure my fame grew. The problem was that I could never
be sure how much was my success and how much was from her manipulation.
Angelena tousled my hair. Most people would think youre ungrateful, Sam. Admit it. A little fame isnt
so terrible.
My forehead furrowed as I glared at Alberto. Yeah, hes not so terrible, as long as hes kept under
strict control. And bound. And gagged. And whipped regularly, I said.
Joey made a wild shot that flew into Albertos back yard. After he ran to retrieve the ball, Harris
squeezed his arm and walked off the driveway. If you dont mind, I think Im going to rest for a while.
Sam, do you have a moment?
Joey made frantic gestures with his head, indicating that he wanted me to talk to Harris, so I said,
Sure, and followed Harris into the house.
Harris got a beer out of the fridge and twisted the top off. He took a long sip. Nice and cold.
I got a beer for myself. So, whats up?
He looked down at his shoes. I heard a rumor that Joseph Dudeka turned you down when you asked
him to direct the film youre producing.
Good news travels fast in this town.
Youve been a good friend the past couple years, Sam. You saw me through that whole bad breakup
with Chuck. And, I dont know, you have the weirdest friends, but every time I come over here, I feel
like I belong. He choked the neck of his beer bottle. I dont want to mess up our friendship. Real
friends are so hard to find in this town.
I leaned against the counter by the sink. You want to direct my next film.
He looked startled.
Joey mentioned it to me.
Harris was suddenly, but charmingly, shy. Im a member of the Directors Guild already. Ive worked
closely with the directors of my past two films. Sam, I know Im not a great actor. Im good, but not
great, and I look the part of an action hero. If Im lucky, Ill still get leading roles ten years from now, but
I cant count on that. Its even iffier with me being openly gay. You know how fickle fame is.
I hid my chuckle behind a faked coughing fit. Even though Deal controlled him, Alberto still flirted
shamelessly with everyone. It was his nature.
Harris forehead wrinkled as he frowned. No one in this town takes me seriously. Im just another
actor who wants to direct. You know Im not just a pretty face, though, dont you? I mean, look at you,
youre hot, and people treat you like youre some kind of airhead, but youre not. Im not either. Youve
known me long enough to see that, right? All I ask is that you consider me for the job. Either way, well
still be friends.
Deal and I already talked it over. Joseph Dudeka passed because of the budget.
This isnt about money, Sam.
I raised my hands. Okay. I just wanted to be upfront with you about that. We were lucky to get
distribution for our first film because of how well it did at Sundance, but that doesnt mean this one will
get picked up.
Grinning, he nodded.
The pay is lousy, theres no guarantee, even if you do a good job, that anyone will ever see your work,
and did you see the five-inch, metal, spiked heels on the leather boots Deal is wearing today? If you
cross her, she will crush your balls with them. Just so were clear on that.
He nodded harder. Got it.
I put my beer on the counter and extended my hand. Then you got yourself a job.
No! Really? He launched himself into my arms. Thank you, man.
Hector opened the kitchen door and scowled at us. Boy, Ive been calling for you. The meat is done. I
need the platter. And bring me a cold soda while youre at it. He looked Harris over. Sam offer you
the job?
Harris still had his arm around my shoulders. Yes!
You boys are going to be working together a lot, then. I guess its time we added an office onto the
house for Sam. I dont need you two underfoot all day long. Hector shot me a stern look. Boy, if I
have to tell you again to bring out the platter for the meat, I dont care how many guests we have in the
house, Im going to paddle that ass. Now get moving.
Its the kilt. Hes been dying to get under it all afternoon, I told Harris.
Boy! Hector bellowed. He tried to look menacing, but I saw laughter in his eyes.
I winked at Harris. Coming, Sir.
***
The whipped cream frosting on Hectors birthday cake was melting by the time I put it into the fridge.
Ophirs boys had made a cleaning sweep through the house, so there wasnt a whole lot for me to do
once our guests left. I took a deep breath and headed into the living room.
It used to be that when I felt like sex, which was all the time, I wanted it right away. My libido hadnt
cooled much, but over the past couple years I had learned that stretching out the seduction was its own
sweet slice of agony. The longer I made it last, the more intense the release. And oh, man, did Hector
ever enjoy that little game.
Wearing the kilt around Hector was like putting a pot on simmer. Pretending I wasnt interested in
getting my ass pounded was like cranking it up to high. He couldnt resist that challenge. The problem
was that I needed him on simmer for just a while longer, but he kept after me, so I had to turn him down,
which only turned him on more It was a vicious cycle that could only end in sweaty, frantic sex. Or at
least I hoped it would. But not yet.
Hector sat in his poppa chair. Everyone ran off early. Usually theyre here until the wee hours of the
morning. Its only two oclock.
I clasped my hands behind my back and lowered my gaze. I asked them to be gone by now, Sir.
Hectors eyebrows rose. Oh? Just as well. He grabbed my wrist and grinned as he pulled me close.
His hands slid up the back of my thighs. When he felt underwear, he frowned.
You didnt expect me to run around your party commando, did you, Sir?
He pulled down on the waistband. I enjoyed imagining that you were. Bare that ass and Ill give you a
birthday spanking.
But its your birthday, not mine, Sir.
Masters prerogative. No one spanks your Papi, Baby. He slapped my butt. How about we get out
your favorite paddle? Its been a couple weeks since you were over my lap. He gripped my hard on
and stroked it through my underwear. Would you like me to get out my crop?
Oh, man, did I ever want that, but I had to keep focused. The whole day was supposed to be about
him. Could you hold that thought for about five hours?
Hector kept stroking me. How was I supposed to behave when he did things like that? You want to
wait?
I havent given you your birthday gift yet. I glanced at my watch. Were sort of running tight on time.
You might want to get changed, Sir. I put a suit out for you on the bed. If you dont mind.
Youre dressing me now?
I bowed my head. If Sir would rather not-- If he rubbed my cockhead much longer, my plan for the
evening was going to get chucked out the window.
Sir is intrigued, to say the least. Hector let go of my cock and gave me a friendly little swat. You can
get up. Will you be changing, too? You know how much I like the kilt.
My face was getting hot. I envisioned us in tuxedos.
Curiouser and curiouser. Sam dressing up when he doesnt have to. Declining a spanking. All right, Ill
play along, simply because now I have to know what youre up to.
***
I so wasnt that kind of guy, but seeing Hectors face when we phased to Venice brought a little tear to
the corner of my eye. I knew Id done good when he pinched his nose and turned away for a moment.
Baby. Venice? He slid his arms around my waist and squeezed.
It didnt seem right that I come here every summer for the film festival, but weve never been able to
spend any time together, so last summer I decided that for your birthday this year we were going to
spend an evening here.
I pulled Hector down one of the narrow streets. We turned down a covered alley that dead-ended at a
canal. There was a chain across the steps leading down into the water. I stepped over it. Hector followed
me.
A low, black gondola bobbed in the canal. A hottie in a striped shirt sat on the back, smoking, When he
saw us, he flicked the butt into the water and rose. Buona sera, Signore Sam. The gondolier nodded to
Hector. Signore.
Buona sera, Mario, I said as he reached out to help us on board. Grazie. I hadnt forgotten Ophirs
advice to hire a private gondolier who was family. Mario understood exactly what I wanted from the
evening. He'd even found the perfect restaurant for a quiet, romantic dinner and pulled a few strings to
get me reservations. I could have used God powers to get on the exclusive list, but Mario had such fun
calling in favors and conniving with his friends to make sure that our evening was perfect that I let him do
it his way.
The low, sleek gondola teetered as Hector headed for the padded, red velvet seats. I climbed in next.
Mario confidently walked down the center of the boat and climbed onto the curving stern.
I handed a single, long stem, red rose to Hector. It seemed kind of hackneyed to me, but I was
determined to pull off the most romantic evening ever, and the rose was part of the script. As silly as I
thought it was, though, Hector got all misty-eyed.
We settled back in our seats as Mario pushed off from the steps. First I take you to the Grand Canal.
Then I take you back the long way, he told us.
Lights illuminated the Grand Canal at the edges, but toward the center, it only sparkled on the caps of
dark waves. There were private landings for many of the beautiful, old buildings marked off by large, red
and white striped pylons sunk into the water. We traveled close to Rialto Bridge, one of the most
famous, and largest, in Venice. Id walked over it at least fifty times in the past four years, but Id never
seen it from the water. The white arches were lit by spotlights, and we could see the constant movement
of tourists. Before we reached it, though, Mario turned the boat around and headed for a quiet canal.
The bridge we headed for was impossibly low. I bet I could reach up and brush my fingertips along the
underside of it. Hector and I turned to watch Mario, who stood at the back of the boat. For a moment, I
wondered if he would jump up onto the bridge, run across the top, and leap down. Instead, he crouched
down. I sucked in my breath as the bridge missed his head by mere inches. Then he stood and
nonchalantly pushed on his pole to move us along, as if he did that every day. Maybe he did.
We reached a dark canal. Very few windows overlooked it. Mario put his hands on the building beside
the canal and pushed until the boat made the tight turn. This canal is very private, he promised. Once,
a long time ago, everyone had their own gondola, and these bordered-up doors were the grand
entrances to their houses. Now, everyone walks on the streets, and what was once the servants
entrance is now the way everyone comes into the house. Many beautiful foyers are behind these doors,
but no one ever sees them anymore.
The next doorway we passed, I could see the water lapping against the threshold. Maybe those dire
predictions that Venice was sinking werent wrong.
Through the third-story window of one house, I could see a beautifully painted ceiling in faded red with
wreaths of flowers around the edges. I nudged Hector and pointed to it. He grinned. So much of the
beauty of the city was hidden away, but the glimpses we caught were like treasured secrets.
I summoned a bottle of champagne and two flutes. Hector held the glasses as I poured the drinks. To
love, I said as I clinked our glasses together.
And to sex.
I took his hand and twined my fingers with his. He just smiled, but his aura was a borealis of joy. I pulled
his hand closer and pressed my lips to his knuckles. A little later, I leaned over and caressed his face.
Light kisses turned to lingering ones. My hands slipped from his head to his chest.
Oh, man, did Hector know how to kiss. It was like a direct line ran from my mouth to my cock.
Needing to cool down, I nuzzled his neck. Hector had other ideas. Soon I was on the bottom of the
boat, pinned under him. He pushed up my dress shirt so that he could kiss down my stomach. He
pinched my nipples until I bucked and tears spilled from my eyes.
Hector unbuttoned my fly. Things were moving too fast. My plan was to wait until after dinner for the
sex.
Hector, I whispered against his lips. We can get a room.
Dont be shy, Baby. No one will see us.
Mario--
Mario sees nothing. Hell remember nothing. Sensing that I wasnt entirely convinced, Hector pressed
his lips to my neck. Baby, cant you feel how hard I am? I need you. Dont make me wait.
I lowered my gaze. I dont know But I did know. Id just lost any control over the evening, and at
that point, I was beyond caring. Besides, I loved outdoor sex, and the buzz I got from the risk of being
caught only turned me on more.
Come on, Baby. I promise itll be okay. His voice was breathless and quiet as he unzipped his fly.
Dont you want to make me happy? Such a hot baby. He kissed me again as he pulled my pants down.
Youre driving me crazy.
Gods, I loved it when he hustled me. I loved it even more when he stared into my eyes as his cock
pushed into me. Soon the rocking of the gondola had nothing to do with the waves. Hector covered my
mouth with his to stop the torrent of dirty talk that flowed out of me between grunts.
His hand pushed between our bodies to grasp my cock. Hands caressed, and slid over slick skin. He
sank his teeth into my neck.
Papi, I groaned.
That feel good? Are you going to come?
I nodded.
Wait, Baby. Not yet. He shoved my knee to my chest and pounded into me. Now.
We didnt even try to hold back. A blast of our combined powers shot out into the Venetian night. It
collided with unsuspecting lovers and drove them into darkened alleyways for frantic release. It kept
going, zipping around the world, leaving no one safe from its wake.
I collapsed under Hector. Happy birthday, Sir.
Best present ever, Boy. Thank you.
Hector and I disentangled and crawled back onto the red velvet cushions. I pulled up my pants and
combed my fingers through my hair as Hector smoothed down his clothes.
I turned around to Mario. Mario, the restaurant, por favore.
Mario snapped out of his haze. He shook his head as if to clear it. Yes, Sir. The restaurant. Where did
the time go?
Hector stretched his arms over the back of the seat, Master of all he surveyed. Ive certainly worked
up an appetite, he said. Whats that look for, Sam?
This was supposed to be a night of perfect romance for you, and I blew it, again.
Hector ran his thumb across my lips. What makes you think you blew it?
Sex is supposed to come after all the romantic stuff.
He chuckled. That was just the appetizer, Baby. Besides, sex is the romantic stuff, too. And if you
dont believe me, after dinner, Ill show you just how hot and nasty love can get.
??
??
??
??
Personal Demons - 35
About this Title

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Jay Lygon - (Chaos Magic 03) - Personal Demons

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Jay Lygon - (Chaos Magic 03) - Personal Demons

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Looking back, maybe July was when the fireworks began.

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Heat rushed up the back of my neck.

Would you like to? The stranger dangled keys in my face.

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Armani boutique, he opened the door for me and followed me in.

Okay, so that was a little impressive.

None, I said. Everyone ignored me.

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Lime is too trendy. That yellow is nice, though.

Youre not done, Boy, until I say you are.

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Giving you an enema.

I yelped. Here? Now? I squirmed, but he forced me to stay in place.

I cant think of a better time.

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I gulped and nodded.

He slapped my ass. I asked you a question.

Stand up. Put your hands behind your neck.

Ill bet you do.

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thousand small deaths from humiliation.

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Thank you. Thank you. I kissed his hands. Thank you.

Im sorry I misbehaved today, Sir.

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Only if you convince yourself that it will be.

I nodded. He said that, too.

Why arent you worried about the Oscars? he asked.

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Is that a promise, Boy? Your word on it?

Why did I feel as if hed trapped me? My word on it, I grumbled.

He was in super-shopper mode. Thered be no stopping him. My shoulders slumped.

Hope and lust was a heady combination. What?

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No? You gave your word, Sam.

I wont do it. Damn cock tease.

I lowered my gaze and walked my fingers up his chest. Papi

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Damn it. Only one finger?

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His long, thick finger stroked my prostate. That was punishment?

Not another enema, I wailed.

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If obeying me doesnt make you happy, then we have a real problem.

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Oh man. Those last couple minutes were hard.

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Im going to anyway, I snapped.

Get up, he said.

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Now, go fetch the wooden spoon. He shoved me toward the door.

Oh man. Oh no. When would I learn to keep my mouth shut?

Need to go, little boy?

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Since I had no choice, I carefully lowered myself over Hectors thighs.

Because I sassed you.

Please, Papi, please! I have to go. I cant hold it any longer.

Then apologize for your temper tantrum.