“You’ll what? You can’t even own the fact that you pissed on me and liked doing it. Why must you see the world in black and white all the time?”
Shaw stumbled out of bed and stalked over to me. “Can’t you see I’m trying to do the decent thing?”
“I don’t want the decent thing, so who are you trying to impress? Because I think we’d both be happier if you spread me on that bed right now with your cock pounding me so hard it will make me cry.”
“You want me to make you cry?”
“You think what I do doesn’t affect me? Well, it does. And you can do something about it. Make me do penance. Hurt me. Please, Daddy. I need to feel better after doing what I did.”
A few seconds passed in which he said nothing. And then he whispered, “I can’t hurt you here without somebody hearing.”
“There are woods behind this house.”
Shaw licked his lips and swallowed hard, but his eyes gleamed. He didn’t fool me one bit. His life would be boring without me. He wouldn’t get to do these exciting things and go places I pushed him to.
“We’re going to do things my way for a change.” He picked my shirt up from the floor and yanked it over my head. “We are going to talk, and that’s final.”
I bit my bottom lip, itching to argue, but when Shaw became the assertive Daddy, he really got my attention. I nodded, and he pointed at the bed.
“Now be the good boy I know you can be and sit down.”
I sat on the bed, pulled my knees up under my chin, and wrapped my arms around them. It meant the shirt rolled back and my lower half was exposed. Shaw’s gaze dropped for a brief second. Then he looked away. I hid my smile by burying my face into my knees. At least he still wanted me.
“I don’t like you having to go through these extremes to try and protect me or us.” He plucked a chair from the corner of the room and placed it before me. He sat and rubbed my toes. “I know you think you’re this tough guy who can get away with anything, but” —he touched his chest— “in here, you’re the sweet boy who likes to cook and sew and makes the most gorgeous designs. You’re the same little guy who looks up at me with so much love and adoration in your eyes, and you’re right. We need to start fresh. And to do so, we’re going to establish some ground rules and boundaries.”
“I hate rules,” I grumbled.
“It’s a choice, Ari. If you want to be with me and for us to have any semblance of a good and healthy relationship, I have to insist before this gets out of hand.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remember you promised I could punish you?”
I nodded, wary at the way he looked so determined.
“When you made that promise to me, I already knew what I wanted you to do as a punishment.”
“What?”
“To go see a therapist.”
I jerked back as though he had slapped me. “What?”
“But now I see the flaw in that plan. Therapy shouldn’t be about punishment. It should be seen as something to make you get better.”
“You think I’m defective? That something is wrong with me?”
He released my toes and massaged my ankles instead. “I think there’s something wrong with all of us. Like me for example. You were right. I’ve been holding back all the things I want to do to you because I’m afraid of how people will judge me if they find out.”
“But we have nobody in our bed with us. Shouldn’t you feel comfortable sharing that with me?”
“I’ll try harder to trust you as my partner, but this entire relationship has to be built on trust. Is that clear?”
“Yes.”
“I mean it, Ari. No more killing. You will let the law handle these things from now on.”
“That’s too absolute.”