By His Rules Read online

between his nipples swung, pulling his swollen tits.

  “Gingerroot,” Scott said conversationally. “Burns,

  doesn’t it?”

  Aiden shifted from one foot to the other as Scott

  continued to fuck him with the piece of root. He didn’t

  recognize the noises he was making; they were animal

  sounds, beyond his control.

  “This is called figging,” Scott explained. “It’s a

  technique they used to use on show horses, to keep their

  tails raised and make them lift their legs higher.”

  Aiden clenched his ass around the gingerroot,

  which only made the sensation stronger. He tried not to

  throw up. Scott slipped the root out, but the burn

  remained.

  “Did you touch yourself?” Scott asked again.

  Aiden bit down on the bar until the burn was

  manageable. Then he raised his head and answered, “No

  Sir.”

  “You’re a stubborn little boy, aren’t you?” Scott

  said. “You like to do things the hard way.”

  Aiden bit back a sob and shifted onto the balls of

  his feet.

  “Well, we’ve got all night. And if that’s how long it

  takes for me to get the truth out of you, so be it.”

  He swatted Aiden’s dancing ass so hard that Aiden

  momentarily forgot about the burn.

  “Hold still.”

  Scott slid the piece of root into Aiden’s ass and left

  it there, then went back to the cutting board and sliced a

  fresh piece. Aiden almost released the bar so he could

  beg for mercy, but the sting was starting to lessen, as

  though his body was so full of pain he couldn’t process

  anymore. Maybe if he acted as though it was still terrible,

  Scott wouldn’t do anything worse, and Aiden would win

  this battle. He let out an experimental whimper.

  Scott stood directly beside him this time, not

  behind him. He stroked Aiden’s cheek. “Poor boy.

  You’re going to be so sore when I fuck you later.” He

  brushed away the tears that had escaped from under

  Aiden’s blindfold. “You see, I don’t believe for a second

  that you didn’t touch your cock.” He took Aiden’s cock—

  soft and curled from the pain—in his hand. Immediately

  it twitched to life. Traitor! Aiden thought, squeezing his

  eyes shut. “I think you touched yourself. I think you

  came. I think you’re lying to me.” Scott brushed his

  thumb over Aiden’s slit, and Aiden gasped. “I don’t

  think you can keep your hands off your cock—but you’re

  going to learn to. Maybe your little penis is the best way

  to get a message to your brain. You don’t. Lie. To me.”

  Scott took the fresh piece of gingerroot and pressed

  it to the head of Aiden’s cock, grinding it against the slit.

  Aiden’s hips jerked involuntarily as the acid sting

  flooded him. His tears came hot and fast, and he bit the

  bar so hard he thought his teeth would break. Scott

  rubbed the root back and forth mercilessly, abrading the

  tender skin and letting the burning juice seep into the

  raw spots. Aiden’s attempt to escape reawakened the

  pain in his ass and made the chain pull at his tits. He let

  go of the bar, straightened up, and the words poured out

  of him without thought or logic: “Please, Sir, please stop.

  Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, please, please don’t… ”

  He staggered backward and tripped over a chair.

  He started to fall, unable to use his hands to catch

  himself.

  Strong arms grabbed him, set him upright. He

  stood in the middle of the floor, blind, cowering, ass

  burning, crying. Scott didn’t touch him, didn’t speak for a

  while, just let Aiden stand there, exposed and

  humiliated.

  “What are you sorry for?” Scott asked quietly.

  “I-I lied. I did touch myself.”

  “I see.”

  Aiden couldn’t bear the silence. “Only once. Last

  week. Only once and then never again after that.” He

  couldn’t stop his tears. He was disappointed in himself

  for lacking the self-control to keep his hands off himself,

  for lying to his master, and now for breaking down.

  “Did I say ‘touch yourself only once, and then never

  again’?” Scott asked.

  Aiden shook his head. He wished he could wipe

  his nose. Instead he had to let it drip onto his lips, his

  chest. “No, Sir.”

  Scott moved in close to him, cupped a hand around

  the back of Aiden’s head, and said in his ear, “I said

  don’t touch yourself, Shithead. Period. One simple rule

  for you to follow in my absence.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” Aiden repeated miserably. The

  ginger still burned dully in his ass, reminding him what

  a disgrace he was as a sub.

  Scott yanked the blindfold off. Aiden caught a

  glimpse of dark eyes and a hard, angry mouth. Aiden

  dropped his gaze to the floor, wishing he could

  disappear. He hadn’t even begun his training yet, and

  he’d already screwed up.

  Scott removed the nipple clamps and the wrist

  cuffs. “Bend over.”

  Aiden did.

  Scott plucked the gingerroot out of his ass and gave

  Aiden a swat. “Go clean yourself up. Kneel in the

  bedroom when you’re done and wait for me.”

  Aiden fled the room, glad for the chance to pull

  himself together. He got into the shower and washed

  himself thoroughly, making sure to shave the stubble on

  his groin. He tried to rinse the last of the burn from his

  asshole. When he got out of the shower, he felt a little

  better. He’d fucked up, but he would do better the rest of

  the night.

  He looked in the mirror. His tits were bluish red

  and puffy, but he liked the reminder of who he belonged

  to. His eyes were less swollen now. He breathed in and

  watched his ribs appear as his stomach contracted. He no

  longer felt hungry.

  For some reason, Aiden thought about Keaton

  Hughes, the man with the notebook at Obey. He

  wondered what kind of top Keaton was. If Keaton would

  enjoy the sight of Aiden, bruised and humiliated, eager

  and compliant. Aiden folded his towel, placed it on the

  toilet tank, and left the bathroom.

  The bedroom was warm. He knelt in the center of

  the room, legs spread. Scott entered a moment later.

  “Stand up,” Scott said.

  Aiden did, keeping his gaze on the floor. Scott

  approached with the nipple clamps, and Aiden closed

  his eyes as the clamps bit into his already sore flesh. He

  winced as Scott tightened the second clamp, then

  immediately chastised himself. You deserve this.

  Scott unclipped the chain on one side, pulled it taut

  across Aiden’s chest, and refastened it. Aiden’s nipples

  were now drawn toward each other. A whimper of agony

  caught in his throat as he tried to move and felt the

  tension in the chain. Scott grabbed his jaw.

  “You still think this is a game,” Scott said. “When I

  give you rules, you follow them. Whether
or not I am

  present to enforce them.” He plucked the chain between

  Aiden’s tits as if it was a guitar string.

  Aiden yelped and doubled over.

  “Is that clear?”

  Aiden forced himself to straighten up. “Y-yes, Sir.”

  “Get on the bed. On your back.”

  Aiden obeyed.

  Scott undressed and knelt between Aiden’s legs.

  “I’m going to fuck your tits,” Scott explained. “Then later

  I’ll fuck your ass and your mouth. And you’re going to

  take it all, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Scott took hold of Aiden’s ankles and pulled him

  farther down the bed. Aiden winced as the movement

  made the chain vibrate. Scott held himself over Aiden

  and lowered his pelvis until his hard cock brushed

  Aiden’s chest. The tip of Scott’s cock glistened and left a

  wet trail on Aiden’s skin as Scott slipped it under the

  chain.

  “Ahhh.” Aiden hissed.

  “That’s right,” Scott said. “Let me hear you while

  I’m fucking you.” He thrust, and his entire cock slid

  under the chain, yanking Aiden’s nipples up and in.

  Aiden cried out. His own cock was confused,

  stiffening at the delicious feeling of utter subjugation,

  then softening again as the pain became too much.

  Scott fucked the chain slowly, dragging long cries

  from Aiden, then faster and harder, until all Aiden could

  do was gulp and gasp and beg.

  He was nothing. He was Shithead. He was Scott’s

  toy. That felt good to think about. Aiden’s cock twitched

  again. He stopped yelling and began to revel in the pain,

  closed his eyes and prepared to sail away on it.

  But something wasn’t right. He didn’t feel he had

  the right, or permission, to extract pleasure from his

  agony. There was no support, no affection from Scott.

  Scott wasn’t trying to launch Aiden into subspace—he

  was trying to keep Aiden in the present, hurting.

  He wants me to feel it. He’s punishing me for lying to him.

  Scott finished, shooting his cum onto Aiden’s neck

  and chest. Aiden didn’t feel anything—not pride at

  having taken pain for his top’s pleasure, not arousal at

  Scott’s inventive cruelty, not the hot, glowing shame that

  accompanied a thorough and punishing fuck. He just felt

  confused.

  “Go clean yourself,” Scott muttered.

  Aiden struggled up. Any encouragement, any

  praise from Scott would have helped. If Scott had

  cleaned him, for instance, or held him for a few minutes,

  helped him come down from the pain. But Scott didn’t

  seem inclined to touch him.

  When did you get so needy? He’s training you. You’re a

  slave, a piece of property. A liar and a disappointment. And you

  expect him to what, cuddle you?

  He got up and went to the bathroom. He cleaned

  himself up and prepared for whatever was next.

  Chapter Five

  “Leftover onion fries in the kitchen,” Hera said,

  nudging him on her way to grab menus.

  “Not hungry,” Aiden said.

  “You love onion fries more than life.”

  “Not today.”

  The last thing Aiden needed was onion fries. He

  was on a strict diet. Two protein shakes a day—one in

  the morning, and one in the evening. In between, he ate

  very little—lean meat, fish, hummus, salad. He worked

  out for two hours each night. After two weeks, he was

  disappointed by how thin and weak he still looked. He

  was developing hard knots of muscle on his upper arms

  and his calves, but they looked almost fake—stuck on.

  He missed the slender softness of his body, the gentle

  definition of his muscles. He was bony and hard now.

  Scott still laughed at his body, called him scrawny

  and told him his ass was the only part of him worth

  looking at. Sometimes Scott made him eat—a bowl of

  oatmeal or soup from the floor—and Aiden hated this,

  hated eating in front of Scott, hated eating more than he’d

  planned to that day. To make up for it, he tried not to eat

  anything except his morning protein shake on the days

  he met with Scott. He spent more time at the gym those

  days too.

  Things with Scott had improved after the first night

  of training. He’d learned to polish Scott’s boots with his

  tongue, to wait in position for as long as Scott wanted

  him to without moving or complaining. He could take a

  thorough fucking, a savage whipping. He fetched toys

  from Scott’s cabinet on command. He opened his legs so

  that Scott could tease him, and he never came without

  permission. Well, almost never. They were working on

  that.

  Spending three nights a week at Scott’s kept his ass

  constantly sore. His nipples were scabbed from the

  clamps, and the scabs sometimes split and oozed a clear

  liquid. He was bruised, stretched, and exhausted, but he

  felt great. It embarrassed him that he lived for Scott’s rare

  praise—an occasional “good boy” or a reassuring hand

  on his back. He was always very responsive to Scott’s

  teasing, hoping he could entice Scott to go further, make

  him feel good. To make love, together, just once in a

  while—instead of Scott fucking him and casting him

  aside.

  A hand covered his eyes from behind. “Open

  wide.”

  He obeyed out of habit, and Hera slipped an onion

  fry into his mouth. He shook free and spit the fry out.

  “Cut it out,” he snapped.

  “Come on. You need that fry. I never see you eat

  anymore, and you look positively gaunt.”

  “I do not.”

  “Come to dinner tomorrow night. Kim’s cooking.

  It’ll be vegany stuff, so you won’t have to worry about

  messing up your figure.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Let me guess. Scott.”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, tell him I said for him to at least give you an

  extra portion of gruel or something.”

  Aiden gave her a tight smile. “Whatever.”

  “Don’t ‘whatever’ me. I’m serious. You don’t look

  good.”

  “I look better than I have in a long time. Scott wants

  me to be in shape.”

  Hera shook her head. “Look in the mirror, dork.

  You may have rock-hard abs, but you’re in lousy shape.”

  * * * *

  “Follow me, Shithead. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  Aiden followed Scott down the hall to the bedroom,

  more than a little apprehensive. Scott’s surprises tended

  to be painful and humiliating.

  Scott led him into the bathroom, which was lit with

  candles—arranged

  haphazardly,

  but

  attractive

  nonetheless. The tub was filled with foamy water, and in

  the candlelight, Aiden saw steam rising from it. Scott

  pinched his bruised nipples. Aiden didn’t even

  whimper. His tits were getting tougher. Scott traced old

  welts on Aiden’s back, ass, and thighs. H
e rubbed

  Aiden’s sides and stomach with his palm.

  “Who do you belong to?” he asked.

  “You, Sir,” Aiden replied.

  Then Scott took Aiden’s cock and used his thumb to

  spread the leaking fluid from the tip down the shaft. He

  fisted Aiden’s cock and stroked slowly. Aiden’s back

  arched, and he sighed, moving with Scott’s hand.

  “Into the tub,” Scott said with a mild slap to

  Aiden’s ass.

  Aiden climbed in. The water was hot—almost too

  hot—but his body quickly adjusted as he sank into the

  bubbles. He secretly hoped Scott wouldn’t hurt him here.

  This felt too nice, too safe. Scott sat on the edge of the tub

  and lathered a washcloth. He washed the back of Aiden’s

  neck, using slow, soothing circles. He rubbed behind

  Aiden’s ears, and Aiden leaned into the contact, allowing

  himself to sigh his pleasure as Scott ran the cloth down

  each arm, scrubbing between Aiden’s fingers. Maybe this

  was the preamble to some horrible torture, but it felt

  damn good.

  Scott had Aiden stand up. He washed Aiden’s ass

  with surprising gentleness, not rubbing too hard over the

  welts and bruises. He moved the washcloth between

  Aiden’s legs. The warm, soapy cloth passing over his

  cock and balls made Aiden’s knees shake. He couldn’t

  stop himself from humping the cloth a little, and Scott let

  him.

  Scott squirted shampoo into his palm. Aiden

  couldn’t keep back a groan as Scott massaged his scalp.

  He wished this could go on forever. Scott rinsed the

  shampoo out, shielding Aiden’s eyes with a clean cloth.

  This embarrassed and thrilled Aiden—he hated the

  feeling of helplessness, but it felt so good to be cared for.

  Scott guided Aiden’s wet head to rest against his thigh.

  They sat like that for a few minutes, Scott stroking

  Aiden’s cheek with his thumb.

  “You liked that?” Scott asked.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “So did I.”

  This was the Scott Aiden saw only sometimes—a

  little vulnerable, a little uncertain. Aiden had the sense

  that Scott had wanted to please him but hadn’t been sure

  how. He felt more determined than ever to be a good sub

  for Scott.

  Scott helped Aiden from the tub. He wrapped him

  in a thick towel and backed him into the bedroom,

  pushing him gently onto the mattress. The towel fell

  open, leaving Aiden exposed, damp, and eager. Scott