- Home
- Loki Renard
Call Me Boy Page 3
Call Me Boy Read online
Page 3
Already Raid felt dominated, but it was hardly something he could complain about, especially with Eric's erection grinding against his own. Once lust kicked in, Raid's defenses fell. He wanted to be fucked by Eric, and when the man's mouth settled over his own, tongue demanding entrance to his mouth, Raid complied, letting Eric ravage his mouth as he reached down and started undoing Eric's belt.
Eric's hand dropped to Raid's waist, his fingers tracing along the hot skin. “You are so passionate, Raid,” he murmured against Raid's mouth. “You practically burn with lust.”
Raid looked down as he freed Eric's manhood from his trousers. A gorgeous cock sprang forth. It was uncommonly thick and long, Raid wouldn't have been surprised if there was nine inches or more waiting to penetrate him. “You have a hot cock,” Raid growled.
“Enough to gag you with, my boy,” Eric replied in the style of the Big Bad Wolf. Raid frowned, but Eric laughed and pushed himself up, sweeping his fingers over the front of Raid's pants. Groaning with pleasure and closing his eyes, Raid was in the dark when he heard a familiar plastic rustle and felt a tug just under the right side of his waistband. And what is this, young man?”
Raid opened his eyes to see Eric straddling him. His magnificent manhood was still erect, but Raid wasn't looking at that, he was looking at the little baggie Eric clutched between thumb and forefinger. “Do I need to ask what this is?”
“It's mine.” Raid tried to snatch for it, but Eric had his hips effectively pinned and pushed him down with his free hand, pinning Raid to the bed.
“Do you use these?”
“No,” Raid growled.
“So you sell them.”
“What's it to you? Everyone has to make a living.”
Eric shook his head solemnly. “No Raid. This will not do.”
Raid snorted, Eric sounded so damn English when he spoke like that. “You don't tell me what will and will not do.”
“Incorrect,” Eric said, raising his body. “You will dispose of these in the commode immediately.”
Raid scrambled up and snatched at the baggie. Frustratingly, Eric rose up at the same time and held it up out of snatching range well above Raid's head.
“Give it back, it's mine!”
“I will give it back if you dispose of it.” Eric lowered his hand. Raid took the opportunity to snatch again, and this time he succeeded in wresting the bag out of Eric's fingers. He was madder than hell. It was one thing for Eric to want to fuck him, it was quite another for Eric to try to fuck with his livelihood.
“You,” he said clearly as he shoved the baggie back into his pocket. “Can go fuck yourself Mister.”
He slammed his way out of the hotel room without a second look back at Eric. He was fuming, not just because of the way Eric had condescended to him about the merchandise, but because he was horny as hell and he was going to have to finish himself off unaided.
Raid made his way along the sidewalk, eschewing the taxi cabs that sped by for the walk. It would do him good, calm him down. He didn't want to get home angry and take it out on Esther. So he shoved his hands into his pockets and stormed along the street, his eyes focused on the pavement, his ears closed to anything but the angry thoughts that whirled through his head.
He should have been paying more attention to his surroundings. He should have seen the cruiser flash its lights behind him. He should have taken a quick left down an alley and vaulted up and over the chain link fence to freedom, but instead he stormed along, completely blind to the officer behind him until he heard the shout.
“STOP. POLICE!”
Chapter Four
Raid sat in a dank puke-green cell, his head in his hands. For the first time in years he'd been caught. He was possibly looking at prison time. Even worse, his bail was stupid high. Ten thousand. He'd be sitting in a cell until trial. Fuck.
He could hardly believe that he'd been caught. He could still feel the cuffs around his wrists even though they'd been removed hours ago. Raid had never been caught before. He was good at what he did. He didn't attract attention. But a cop car had pulled up beside him on the street, told him that he'd been ID'd as a possible suspect in a criminal investigation and just a couple of minutes later he'd been in the back of the cruiser, his hands cuffed, his merchandise dropped inside an evidence bag.
Sighing deeply, he wondered what would become of Esther. She was old enough to look after herself in theory, but he did not like the idea of her being all alone in the world with no-one to protect her. He promised himself that if he managed to get out of the bind he was in, he would never deal again. Ending up in jail was not his plan.
The heavy footsteps of a guard made their way between the cells. Raid heard the other prisoners shouting out ridiculous profanity and racial epithets. Animals. They were like animals in a zoo, just a few hours in a cell made a man go a bit mad. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to go to jail. A chill of fear crept down his spine as he tried to push the thought of prison away. That was a reality he could not bring himself to face.
The footsteps stopped outside his cell. “Congratulations, Mr Raider. You made bail.”
Raid's head shot up, his eyes filled with disbelief. How? Why? He wasn't going to question it though, he was going to get the hell out of there. The feeling he had walking out of that cell was the sweetest he'd had in a very long time. His smile grew wider with every step until the final one that took him out the front of the station. When he saw who had bailed him out, his smile dropped off his face instantly.
Eric was waiting in the foyer, his hat held in his hands, his overcoat describing the broad spread of his shoulders. He looked tall and powerful as usual. He was the last person Raid had expected to see, and yet he didn't seem put out at all. He actually seemed comfortable there amidst the chairs with the ripped upholstery and the fluorescent lights that made everyone look pallid and sick.
“You.”
“Come along,” Eric ushered him out of the station quickly. Raid didn't object. He followed Eric down the stairs, staying close by his side as if getting too far away from him would result in being hauled away to be locked up again. His mind was going a million miles a minute, his emotions swinging between gratitude and relief and suspicion. How on earth had Eric known he was there? For that matter, how had Eric known where he lived the other day?
Hedging his bets and deciding not to piss off the guy who had just paid off his 10k bail, Raid decided to make nice. “Thank you for getting me out. I promise I won't do anything to get your money taken away,” he promised.
“Oh I know,” Eric said. It was hard to place the man's emotions. He wasn't really showing any, that was the problem. He escorted Raid into a car and followed him into the backseat. For a moment Raid was confused, then he realized that Eric had a driver. Of course Eric did. Eric seemed to enjoy having people doing things for him. He probably had a butler too.
A black screen separated the front of the car from the back. Raid waited for Eric to give the driver orders, but the big man just reached forward and rapped his knuckles on the glass, signaling for the driver to pull away.
They drove through the city in silence. Raid didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what to feel. He was bright enough to know that his misfortune and rescue were too neat to be coincidence.
“So, what now?” Raid broke the silence and asked the question that had to be asked.
Eric turned to gaze at him steadily. “This changes everything, Raid.”
“What do you mean?”
A light of triumph established itself in Eric's eyes. “It means I can have your bail revoked any time I please. I want you to understand something. You're mine now. That means you do as I say.”
“You. You had me picked up.” Raid spoke flatly, no trace of surprise in his voice. It made sense.
“Smart boy,” Eric smiled a dark smile.
Keeping his anger at being betrayed in check with great effort, Raid's next question came out politely, but slightly strangled
. “Why?”
“Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I wanted you. You refused my initial offer, but now you have no choice.” Eric spoke quite calmly, as if what he'd done made perfect sense and was entirely reasonable.
“So what? I have to be your sex slave or you'll have me thrown in jail?”
Eric's laugh was like syrup down his spine. “No dear boy. This isn't about sex. It's not just about sex anyway. This is about control.”
“You want me to submit to you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I'll enjoy it. Because you need it.”
Shaking his head, Raid tried to argue the point, even though he already knew it was useless. He was dealing with the sort of man who would have him picked up by the police to get what he wanted. “I do not need it.”
Eric tutted as he shook his head. “Of course you do. You think you'll run drugs the rest of your life and never get into trouble? You think this arrest will be your last?”
“I don't know.”
“I do. It's only a matter of time. Yes, I set you up.” Eric reached out and gently brushed his fingertips along Raid's jaw in a caress. “And you are probably very angry about that, but the fact of the matter is, I only did what was inevitable anyway, and I did it in such a manner as to be able to help you.”
Raid's expression sank into something dangerously like a pout. “Well I guess it doesn't matter what I think anyway, does it? You're the one with the bail money.”
“Come now Raid,” Eric ran his hand briefly over the younger man's cheek in a soft caress, then tapped it lightly in a warning slap. “Don't sulk.”
Raid closed his eyes. He didn't want to look Eric in the face anymore. “Of course, you won't be able to continue your little business anymore,” Eric said.
Raid's eyes flew open. “I have to. I have a sister to support. Rent to pay.”
“Yes. You can work for my firm. There's an opening for a mail boy.”
“A mail boy. How Victorian.”
The car drew up beside a building and Raid saw through the tinted glass that they were back at the hotel. “Is this where my sex slavery begins?”
“You keep saying that, dear boy. I begin to think you might rather enjoy such a thing,” Eric said mildly.
Raid shook his head as he followed Eric out of the car and back into the hotel. As he walked through the lobby he had a rather dismal sense of deja-vu. He would have been better off capitulating to Eric's demands in the first place. All his refusal had gotten him was several hours in a jail cell and pending charges.
They returned to Eric's room, where Eric once again demonstrated just how many steps he had been ahead of Raid the whole time. Whilst Raid hovered awkwardly near the door, Eric shed his coat and made himself comfortable. “So there we are, that is all sorted,” he declared with an air of satisfaction. “Now we have only the matter of this.” He reached toward the table beside him and picked up a thin strip of leather with a buckle at the end. “Come here.”
Raid took a few reluctant steps forward. Eric reached around his neck, putting the leather around it and buckling it. It was a collar. Like a dog collar.
“You have to be kidding me,” Raid reached up to touch it.
“It's a training collar,” Eric said. “It marks you as mine.”
“Why not just brand me like a cow and have done,” Raid muttered.
“That is an option,” Eric agreed. To Raid's horror, he did not seem to be joking.
“If you try to hurt me...”
“Oh hush dear boy,” Eric waved away the violent threat before it could be delivered.
Raid trembled with a mixture of impotent rage and creeping fear. He truly was at Eric's mercy now, and he did not know the man nearly well enough for that. He reached for the collar and tugged it around so the buckle was at the front, then began to manipulate the fastening with his fingers.
“Oh no,” Eric swatted Raid's hands away and resettled the collar. “You do not take it off without permission.”
“Or what?”
“Or you'll be punished,” Eric said. His brown eyes were perfectly still, perfectly serious.
Raid let his hands drop. He knew all too well that Eric's punishment would probably be humiliating more than it would be painful. Pain he could take, but his ego would not allow him to suffer an embarrassing punishment easily.
“Good boy,” Eric smiled.
“Can I go home now?”
“May I go home,” Eric corrected him.
“I don't know, may you?” Raid took refuge in a smart ass response. There was little other recourse available to him.
Eric's smile turned frosty. “You have a tendency to be flippant and disrespectful.”
“I do,” Raid agreed.
“That will be trained out of you.”
“I doubt it.” Raid smirked, feeling a little of his old self. There was power in defiance.
“Come with me.” Eric turned and walked out of the room. Raid followed him across the hall and into a room that made him stifle a gasp of fear. It was no ordinary hotel room rather it was a dungeon, a well lit dungeon, but a kinkster's wet dream nonetheless. From shackles to a cage that could easily fit a man, to a massage style table complete with manacles, it was all there.
“All that's missing are some cells,” Raid quipped. It would not do to show fear.
Eric pointed to a contraption that looked like a wooden saw horse but was much more finely made. The legs were polished to gleaming and the upper part was padded and covered in leather. “Bend over, please.”
“I don't think so.”
“Raid, bend over.” This time Eric was not so genteel or polite. He rattled out the order in clipped, short bursts that demanded to be obeyed. Strangely, Raid found himself heeding the tone. Without further argument, he bent over the horse. He was able to place his palms flat on the floor in front of him, but his rear end was raised over the padded bar, stretched and entirely vulnerable under his jeans.
“I'm going to give you two strokes of the cane,” Eric announced behind him. All Raid could see of him were the black legs of his pants and the well shined expensive leather shoes. “They will not be pleasant, but it will be tolerable. This is to give you a taste of what you can expect if you decide to be flippant.”
The thin cane tapped across his backside once, twice, then returned in a hefty stroke that forced Raid onto his hands and nearly made him cry out in pain. He resisted the urge to shout, gritting his teeth together. It hurt more than he expected it to. Another stroke followed just as quickly, blasting across his bottom. The pain from that stroke quickly melded into the pain from the first and he gasped, the sharp intake of breath the only sound in the room.
“Get up.”
Raid got to his feet. He stood tall, but kept his eyes averted from Eric. The punishment was unjustified he felt. He hadn't done anything wrong but make a joke.
“Take this seriously, Raid, or you will be in a lot of pain,” Eric warned him. He walked away a few steps and replaced the cane on the rack it had come from.
Raid did not reply. His jaw was clenched so hard it was beginning to hurt. The flowering pain in his backside would not leave him alone, it pulsed from the two lines at regular intervals. How dare Eric do this to him. How dare he.