kind of games he liked and wasn’t about to waste energy fighting over him.
Slade sat down on the offered chair. His hand stayed on the collar of Rip’s t-shirt. His friend dropped on his knees on the cushion at the foot of Slade’s chair.
The younger man looked up at him, his expression a mixture of confusion and relief.
“I’m sure he’s very sorry for wasting your time.” Slade glanced pointedly at Rip.
The younger man blinked as he seemed to catch up. He turned his attention back to Hewett. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, sir.”
Hewett nodded just once, before turning his attention back to Slade. “He had permission to come here tonight?”
“No.” Slade left no room for doubt in his answer. If he owned Rip, he wouldn’t have permission to be in the club without his master, let alone flirt with another dominant. If Rip belonged to him, he’d see to it his silly little friend knew exactly who he belonged to.
Hewett smiled. “Sounds like he’s in for an interesting night when he gets home.”
If he’d actually had any pretensions to collaring Rip, Slade knew that he wouldn’t have the slightest hesitation in turning him over his knee right there in the club. A public punishment wouldn’t do a man with Rip’s kinks any harm. Slade had no doubt he was exhibitionist enough that he’d take an audience in his stride and probably even get off on it.
“Unless you’re inclined to stay a while…” Hewett mused. “There are a few new bi dominants on the scene who I believe are quite eager to meet you. Of course, I wouldn’t want to delay anything you felt needed to be dealt with immediately…” He waved a hand towards Rip as he trailed off again.
The submissive twisted his neck, struggling against the hand that still maintained a tight grip on his shirt, as he tried to look over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t…”
A second before the words left the smaller man’s mouth, they’d been perfectly accurate. It wasn’t his place to punish him, it wasn’t his responsibility either.
Slade saw understanding dawn in the submissive’s eyes as he realised he’d just said the one thing which meant there was no way they could keep up the pretence, unless he did exactly that.
Hewett laughed. “You’re right. Still very much at the bratty stage.”
Well, if Rip wanted him to play the part of a pissed off dominant, he was going to get his wish. Slade let go of his friend’s shirt.
“On your feet.”
Rip only hesitated for a second before he did as he was told. He stood squarely before Slade, boots shoulder width apart, his hands folded neatly behind his back. Any tipsiness that had stopped the younger man driving himself home, promptly evaporated as he focused in on the dominant before him.
“Do you remember your safe word?”
Not a single hesitation. “Red, sir.”
It was so commonplace Slade didn’t need to file it carefully away inside his mind. He merely nodded to let his friend know that he would remember it.
“Do you know why you’re going to be punished?”
“For coming here without your permission, sir,” Rip rattled off so fluidly, no one listening could ever have guessed that they hadn’t had a similar conversation dozens of times, before scores of other punishments.
Slade couldn’t help but remember all the times he’d been quite inclined to turn the other man over his knee for some stupid prank he’d pulled. Leaning back in his chair, he invited the submissive to upend himself over his lap.
“Yes, sir.” Their eyes met for a brief moment, Slade didn’t miss the curiosity in his friend’s expression.
A nod at the submissive’s belt made Rip falter for the briefest second, as he realised Slade fully intended to spank him bare. The moment passed, Rip reached for his belt. It only took a few deft motions for him to have it undone. The fly was down a moment later. Slade held the other man’s gaze, studying his eyes. There wasn’t a hint of worry there, just
Slade sat down on the offered chair. His hand stayed on the collar of Rip’s t-shirt. His friend dropped on his knees on the cushion at the foot of Slade’s chair.
The younger man looked up at him, his expression a mixture of confusion and relief.
“I’m sure he’s very sorry for wasting your time.” Slade glanced pointedly at Rip.
The younger man blinked as he seemed to catch up. He turned his attention back to Hewett. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, sir.”
Hewett nodded just once, before turning his attention back to Slade. “He had permission to come here tonight?”
“No.” Slade left no room for doubt in his answer. If he owned Rip, he wouldn’t have permission to be in the club without his master, let alone flirt with another dominant. If Rip belonged to him, he’d see to it his silly little friend knew exactly who he belonged to.
Hewett smiled. “Sounds like he’s in for an interesting night when he gets home.”
If he’d actually had any pretensions to collaring Rip, Slade knew that he wouldn’t have the slightest hesitation in turning him over his knee right there in the club. A public punishment wouldn’t do a man with Rip’s kinks any harm. Slade had no doubt he was exhibitionist enough that he’d take an audience in his stride and probably even get off on it.
“Unless you’re inclined to stay a while…” Hewett mused. “There are a few new bi dominants on the scene who I believe are quite eager to meet you. Of course, I wouldn’t want to delay anything you felt needed to be dealt with immediately…” He waved a hand towards Rip as he trailed off again.
The submissive twisted his neck, struggling against the hand that still maintained a tight grip on his shirt, as he tried to look over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t…”
A second before the words left the smaller man’s mouth, they’d been perfectly accurate. It wasn’t his place to punish him, it wasn’t his responsibility either.
Slade saw understanding dawn in the submissive’s eyes as he realised he’d just said the one thing which meant there was no way they could keep up the pretence, unless he did exactly that.
Hewett laughed. “You’re right. Still very much at the bratty stage.”
Well, if Rip wanted him to play the part of a pissed off dominant, he was going to get his wish. Slade let go of his friend’s shirt.
“On your feet.”
Rip only hesitated for a second before he did as he was told. He stood squarely before Slade, boots shoulder width apart, his hands folded neatly behind his back. Any tipsiness that had stopped the younger man driving himself home, promptly evaporated as he focused in on the dominant before him.
“Do you remember your safe word?”
Not a single hesitation. “Red, sir.”
It was so commonplace Slade didn’t need to file it carefully away inside his mind. He merely nodded to let his friend know that he would remember it.
“Do you know why you’re going to be punished?”
“For coming here without your permission, sir,” Rip rattled off so fluidly, no one listening could ever have guessed that they hadn’t had a similar conversation dozens of times, before scores of other punishments.
Slade couldn’t help but remember all the times he’d been quite inclined to turn the other man over his knee for some stupid prank he’d pulled. Leaning back in his chair, he invited the submissive to upend himself over his lap.
“Yes, sir.” Their eyes met for a brief moment, Slade didn’t miss the curiosity in his friend’s expression.
A nod at the submissive’s belt made Rip falter for the briefest second, as he realised Slade fully intended to spank him bare. The moment passed, Rip reached for his belt. It only took a few deft motions for him to have it undone. The fly was down a moment later. Slade held the other man’s gaze, studying his eyes. There wasn’t a hint of worry there, just
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