By His Rules Read online

kissed Aiden, plunging his tongue deep into Aiden’s

  mouth, claiming him.

  “Your training’s going well,” Scott said. “I thought

  you deserved a reward.”

  He ran his fingers along Aiden’s cock, tracing the

  ridge below the head. Aiden arched his back, rubbing his

  cock against Scott’s hand.

  “Shh. Not so fast,” Scott said. “Spread your legs.”

  Aiden did. Scott rolled on a condom and lubed

  himself. He pressed a finger against Aiden’s opening,

  circling his target, making Aiden squirm.

  “I want you to beg for it,” Scott whispered.

  “Please, Sir,” Aiden said.

  “Please what? What do you want?”

  Aiden lifted his hips as Scott continued to circle his

  asshole with one finger, pressing against the opening but

  never breaching it.

  “Please put your—put your finger in me. God—

  please—”

  “Good boy.” Scott plunged a finger inside him.

  “Oh God… ”

  “Stay still while I finger fuck you.”

  Aiden tried his best to hold still. Not to yelp or

  twist or ride Scott’s finger. Scott added a second finger,

  then a third, stretching him, and Aiden moaned with

  each of Scott’s thrusts.

  Scott pulled his fingers out.

  “No!” Aiden begged.

  Scott quirked an eyebrow. “No?”

  “I mean—please, Sir. Don’t stop.”

  “My cock’s going to feel even better in you,” Scott

  said, positioning himself at Aiden’s opening.

  Aiden had received countless fuckings from Scott

  since his training began, and usually Scott’s cock hurt.

  This was different. Scott entered him slowly and waited

  for Aiden to relax and accommodate him before he began

  thrusting. He angled his thrusts to hit Aiden’s prostate,

  and soon Aiden was clutching the sheets, yelling with

  abandon as Scott pounded him.

  “Gonna come,” Aiden warned.

  “Not yet,” Scott said, ramming him harder.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Aiden panted. “Scott, I

  can’t—”

  “You’re gonna do what I say.” Scott smacked the

  inside of one thigh.

  Aiden gasped. “Yes, Sir. Oh God… ”

  “Come for me now, little boy.”

  Aiden’s face grew hot at the words “little boy,”

  even as his balls and ass contracted and he came,

  shooting onto his belly and the sheets. He panted and

  begged incoherently as Scott continued to fuck him past

  his orgasm. Scott came a moment later, emptying himself

  into the condom. He pulled out, rolled Aiden onto his

  stomach, and spanked him. Slow, hard slaps that made

  Aiden wince and wriggle against the sheets.

  “Move that ass for me, boy. Hump my bed.”

  Flushing, Aiden rocked his hips, rubbing his cock

  against the soft cotton. The slaps came faster, the sting of

  them melding together into a perfect surface heat that

  spread from Aiden’s hips to his thighs. Scott forced his

  legs apart and spanked his crack, his asshole, his inner

  thighs. “No,” Aiden moaned, rocking against the bed.

  “No no no no… ” His cock was hard again and chafed

  against the sheets.

  “Yes,” Scott growled. “You do as I say. You hump

  until you come. I’m going to spank you until you do.”

  Aiden almost lost his mind at Scott’s promise. So

  humiliating, yet so hot. Scott spanked his ass, alternating

  cheeks, the slaps ringing in the dim room. Aiden’s

  rubbed-raw cock wept and throbbed, and he humped the

  mattress so hard the bedsprings began to protest. Finally

  he came, thrusting his ass up into the air as the cum

  spilled out of him, and Scott peppered his flaming butt

  with a last volley of spanks. “Oh!” Aiden collapsed.

  Scott chuckled.

  “Your ass is the color of a Christmas sweater,” Scott

  said, palming the sore flesh, digging his fingertips into

  the most painful areas.

  Aiden moaned.

  “How do you feel?”

  Aiden tensed with surprise. Scott never asked him

  this. Was it a trick question? “Good, Sir. Tired.”

  With a last pat to his blazing rear, Scott pulled the

  covers over Aiden. “Sleep,” he said.

  As Aiden drifted off, he heard Scott go into the

  bathroom. He really did feel good. This was the kind of

  thing he liked—being ordered around, pampered,

  spanked… Scott had delivered a hard spanking, but it

  wasn’t like the whippings he usually gave Aiden. There

  would be no lasting welts or bruises, no broken skin. Just

  this delicious ache, the feeling of being claimed and

  kept.

  He slept.

  * * * *

  When he woke, Scott was snoring beside him. The

  clock read 3:06. Aiden slipped out of bed and went into

  the living room, opening his laptop and pulling up his

  grad school applications. He’d hoped to log a couple of

  hours on them tonight while Scott was asleep.

  “Describe the qualities and accomplishments you will

  bring to this graduate program.” How the hell did he know

  what qualities and accomplishments he’d bring? He

  placed his fingers on the keyboard but couldn’t even

  think of an opening sentence. Shit. He was never going to

  get in. Both Case Western and Irvine had hundreds of

  applicants, all of them probably better actors than Aiden.

  Stop it, he told himself. He was a hard worker,

  dedicated to his craft. But between Joe’s Steakhouse and

  coming here for training, I’m losing time I could spend honing

  my craft. He chewed a hangnail until it started to bleed.

  He didn’t even notice Scott standing in the doorway until

  Scott cleared his throat. Aiden jumped.

  “What are you doing?” Scott asked. He was naked,

  the bulges and furrows of his muscles catching Aiden’s

  cock’s interest even as his throat tightened with fear.

  “Working on grad school apps,” Aiden said, trying

  to smile. “It sucks.”

  Scott folded his arms across his chest and leaned

  against the door frame. “Grad school?”

  “Yeah. I want to get my master’s in theater.”

  “You’re gonna spend all that time and money to get

  an advanced degree in theater?”

  Aiden blushed. “I don’t actually have to spend any

  money if I get into a good enough program. They’d

  waive my tuition and give me a stipend.”

  Scott stepped into the room. “What are the odds of

  that happening?”

  “Um. Case Western accepts eight applicants every

  other year. And UC Irvine’s about the same.”

  Scott laughed. “You’ve got a better shot at winning

  the lottery.”

  Aiden bristled. “It’s competitive. But if they like my

  audition and my interview… ”

  “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

  “An excuse?”

  “To avoid the real world. Stay in school as long as

  you can. Don’t get a real job.” Scott stood beside the

  couch. His half-hard c
ock would have made Aiden ache

  with hunger if he didn’t resent Scott so much right now.

  “Will graduate school really make you a better

  actor? I mean, you either have it or you don’t, right?”

  “I’ll learn new techniques. And I’ll get experience in

  professional productions.”

  Scott shook his head. “It’s your life. Just seems like

  a waste of time to me.”

  “It’s not,” Aiden said hotly, hating that he sounded

  like a petulant kid.

  Scott raised his hands. “Whatever you say. You’re

  not really expecting to get in, though, are you? With

  those odds?”

  Aiden looked down at the paper in his hand. “I

  don’t know,” he mumbled. “We’ll see.”

  “Put it away.”

  Aiden looked up.

  Scott nodded at the application. “Put it away. I

  didn’t say you could get out of bed.”

  “You were sleeping—”

  “You want to piss me off?”

  Aiden closed his eyes. “No, Sir.”

  “Come back to bed. I need a blowjob.”

  Aiden shut his laptop, turned off the light, and

  followed Scott down the hall, trying not to stew. How

  did Scott know Aiden wouldn’t get in? He’d never seen

  Aiden onstage. For all Scott knew, Aiden was a brilliant

  actor and would have all his top choice programs vying

  for him.

  But a voice inside his head needled him, telling

  him the reason he objected to Scott’s words was that

  deep down, he knew they were true. His odds weren’t

  good. Maybe grad school was a waste of time. If he was

  going to be an actor, why not start now? Move to a city.

  Start auditioning.

  But what if Aiden couldn’t be an actor, period?

  What if he wasn’t cut out for anything more than waiting

  tables at Joe’s?

  Scott snapped his fingers. “Let’s go, Shithead.”

  They were back to Shithead. Aiden looked at the

  superb body sprawled on the bed and tried to reclaim

  his good mood from earlier in the evening. The bath had

  felt so good, the sex had been so hot… Scott had dropped

  the brutal master act, and for a short time, Aiden had felt

  almost like they were lovers. But now Master Scott was

  back, waiting for Aiden to serve him. He didn’t care

  about Aiden’s life, Aiden’s future plans. He cared only

  that Aiden jumped when he snapped his fingers.

  He took Scott in his mouth. There was a time he’d

  thought he had a talent for this too, but now he felt self-

  conscious about giving blowjobs. In addition to pointing

  out what Aiden was doing wrong, Scott liked to describe

  how Aiden looked while he was giving head—red-faced,

  sweaty, contorted. Ugly. Tonight, though, Scott was

  silent except for his moans as he fucked Aiden’s throat

  and a growl of displeasure when Aiden gagged on his

  dick.

  When he was done, Aiden swallowed and curled

  away from Scott. Scott slept instantly, but Aiden stayed

  up the rest of the night, worrying that he had no future at

  all.

  Chapter Six

  “Don’t tell anyone,” Hera said, “but I’m taking a

  class at the community college.”

  “You?” Aiden feigned shock. “You hate school.”

  “Calm down. I’m not getting a PhD or anything. It’s

  a pottery class. They have better supplies than I do in my

  studio. And I’m actually learning a lot.”

  “Next thing you know, you’ll be at State. Rushing

  sororities, partying every weekend… ”

  “Shut up. This is a one-time deal. It just happens to

  not be as terrible as I imagined. I’m getting enough crap

  from Sloane, so you can save it.”

  “It’s just that you’re, like, so anticollege.”

  Hera shrugged, keeping her eye on the tubs of

  salad dressing she was refilling. “I really like Professor

  Hughes. You would too. He’s way handsome. And he’s

  into the scene.”

  “What scene?” Aiden asked, handing her another

  jug of Italian.

  “Your scene, dumb-ass.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Just a guess. He showed us some illustrations

  from a Dutch printing of Juliette, by the Marquis de Sade.

  Crazy stuff—men and women tied up and whipped,

  lines of men with their cocks up each other’s asses… ”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s—whatever.”

  “He’d be a sexy top.”

  “Wait, did you say Professor Hughes?” Aiden was

  so tired it had taken him a minute to put two and two

  together.

  “Yep.”

  “What’s his first name?”

  “Keaton. Ridiculous, right? But kind of hot.”

  “Oh my God,” Aiden said.

  “Do you know him?”

  “I saw him at the club a couple of weeks ago.”

  “So I’m right!”

  “I don’t—maybe. He didn’t seem interested in

  anyone there.”

  “Not even you?”

  Aiden shook his head. “He barely looked at me.”

  “That must be a first for you. Maybe he’s not really

  into the lifestyle. Maybe he’s just researching.”

  “Yeah.” Aiden’s mind whirled.

  “Where’s the Thousand Island?”

  Aiden handed her the tub. “We should go to Obey

  tonight.”

  “We?” Hera raised an eyebrow. “What would I do

  at an S&M club?”

  “We should see if he’s there.”

  “Gross. I mean, he’s hot and everything, but I don’t

  want to see him in assless chaps.”

  “You could totally embarrass him. You love

  subverting authority.”

  Hera looked thoughtful. “That’s true. I would love

  to see the look on his face if I came up to him in a leather

  bar and started making small talk.”

  “So you’ll come?”

  “What about Master Scott? Hasn’t he banned you

  from flirting at Obey?”

  “Not specifically. I mean, I can’t go home with

  anyone else. But he didn’t say I couldn’t go at all.”

  “Good. I was starting to think you couldn’t move or

  speak without his hand up your dummy ass.”

  “It isn’t that bad,” Aiden muttered.

  “No? I haven’t seen you eat a meal in weeks. Does

  he let you eat?”

  “Of course he does. I’ve been eating at home.”

  “Your pants don’t fit. You’ve got a length of extra

  belt hanging practically to your knees.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You don’t look healthy. You look exhausted and

  half-starved, and what you’ve told me about Scott scares

  me a little.” Hera stared at him until he had to turn away.

  “I’m fine.”

  “The hell you are. Do you have any idea how many

  times I’ve had to cover for you the last couple of days?

  I’ve refilled your tables’ water glasses, brought ketchup

  you promised but never delivered, split checks you

  printed out as single… ”

  “I did all that?”

  “Yeah, champ, you did. So let’s go to Obey and find


  you some big cuddly bear who likes fur-lined cuffs and

  feeding you grapes. And you can forget Scary Scott.”

  “He’s not scary.”

  “I live with two women. Our menstrual cycles are

  synced. I know scary. Your top is scary.”

  Aiden laughed.

  “I’m serious, Aiden. That man is bad news. Bad.”

  “Do me a favor and keep your nose out of it,

  okay?”

  “Okay. But don’t come crying to me when he—”

  “Hera, shut up.”

  Hera wiped a ranch streak off the counter with a

  paper towel. “Hand me the house Italian,” she said.

  Under her breath, Aiden heard her mutter, “Dork.”

  * * * *

  They didn’t see Keaton Hughes at Obey, which

  Aiden found inexplicably disappointing. What had he

  planned to do if Keaton was there?

  Obey catered primarily to gay men, and some of

  the patrons cast Hera suspicious looks as she and Aiden

  made their way to the bar. But Hera could interact with

  anyone, and Aiden ended up feeling like a heel when he

  finally pulled her away from a group of tops she’d

  engaged in a conversation about some cake-decorating

  show.

  “You ready to go?” he asked. “I’m beat.”

  “Just let me finish my drink,” Hera said.

  As she drained the last of her cocktail, Aiden

  glanced around. His stomach plummeted. Scott was

  standing by the basement entrance, talking to a couple of

  twink subs. He looked up just as Aiden’s gaze fell on

  him. “Shit,” Aiden whispered.

  “Done,” Hera said. She looked up at him, then

  followed his gaze to the basement door. “Who’s Mr.

  Beady Eyes there?”

  “That’s Scott.”

  Scott’s face hadn’t changed expression since he’d

  spotted Aiden, but he dismissed the two twinks with a

  nod and continued to stare at Aiden and Hera.

  “That’s Scott?” Hera said. “I was expecting someone

  hotter.”

  “He is hot,” Aiden said, annoyed.

  “He’s well constructed, yes. But he doesn’t look

  nice.”

  “So?”

  “So he looks creepy, not sexy.”

  Scott approached them, and Aiden tried to keep his

  heart rate under control.

  “What are you doing here?” Scott asked.

  “He’s showing me around,” Hera said, giving Scott

  a less than friendly stare.

  Scott glanced at her, then looked back at Aiden.

  “Looking for someone to go home with?”

  “No, Sir,” Aiden murmured, embarrassed to be