My face flushes and I chew on my bottom lip. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good, after you take the fire blanket out of the linen closet, remove all your clothes and go to the kitchen table for me. Lie on your back on top of the blanket.”
Without arguing or pouting, I walk into the house and he comes in after me, heading for the guest bathroom to get everything we need for our play time.
I toss the blanket down and cover it with my body, feeling so vulnerable and small waiting for Daddy to come help me grow wings. It was never supposed to be this way but life has a funny way of yanking you off course when you least expect it and so does Everett.
Everett
On my way out of the bathroom, I check my messages, hoping the new contact has reached out to me. It was the first lead I had in over a week. I was growing impatient. Hope stirs in my chest when I see the man got back to me after all.
J:Your brother is alive and I can tell you where he is. Meet me tonight at Mason's Pub on the corner of 6th and Broadway. Be there by seven.
I breathe a sigh of relief, hoping it won't be temporary. If this guy is lying or this is a trap to kill me, I won't hesitate in letting Ignacio have him and cause him pain anyway he chooses. I know he's tracking my car and I won't do anything about it. It makes him feel better and I have no issues with him knowing everywhere I am.
Ignacio is waiting for me in the kitchen, lying still and staring up at the ceiling. His hands fidget at his sides as I set down everything next to him on the long rectangular table. “Look at you behaving so well.”
His eyes beam and he wiggles in place. “I'm trying, Daddy.”
“I know, Little Dove, but there is so much more to good behavior than being patient.”
He nods, glancing around the room. “Any news on your brother?”
“Hopefully there will be tonight.”
“Will you at least let me follow you there?” he asks with a blank expression. He's holding back on me again.
“Wouldn't have it any other way,” I say, grinning his way.
His eyes light up a little and the corners of his lips shake. “Good. I would have done it regardless.”
I laugh, walking toward the sink. “I believe you.”
He goes quiet, the bottom of his legs dangling off the table. I grab the fire extinguisher from under the sink and walk back toward him, placing it on one of the chairs.
“You ready for me, Iggy?”
He takes a deep breath, straightening himself on the table, all the tattoos on the front of his body visible. “Yes,” he breathes out.
He's stunning. I caress the upper part of his left thigh and he shudders. Reaching into the black bag on the table, I remove the 75% alcohol and a small silver bowl I keep with it, along with a Ziplock bag full of gauze. Opening the bottle, I fill the bowl halfway and set it down on the table while reaching for a square of gauze from the clear bag.
Ignacio takes a few deep breaths when I rub the alcohol into his hairless skin. Because of how often we play, he makes sure to shave daily. Hair is flammable and it's better to light an area where there is none.
“Doing so good,” I say in a soft, reassuring tone. “We are going to use traffic light colors today. Green for go, Yellow for slow down and red for stop. You use them when you need to and don’t ever hesitate either. Understand?”
“Mhm,” he responds softly.
“What do you say when you want everything to stop?” I ask, staring down at him.
“Red,” he says before sucking in a breath.
“That’s my good little dove.” I smile, and press a kiss to his forehead.
He hums softly, stretching out his neck and digging his nails into the blanket when I reach for the lighter. It's how he prepares himself for the pain. Closing his eyes, he relaxes his body, and I grab the lighter from my pocket. I always carry it with me so it's never too far away. It makes him happy to know I have it since the gift is something I bought special for him.
It's satisfying to know he trusts me so much as to allow me to hold onto it and use it whenever I feel the time is right. He might think he still hates me and what we have is one sided, but the way he's lying still at my command, being perfectly submissive, tells me otherwise. You don't just give this kind of control to anyone, and everything I provide for him will never be for anybody else.
The fire ignites from my hand and I lower the flame to his smooth, scar-free flesh, waving the heat against his leg. He moans, arching his hips. It's hard for him to stay still whenever fire is involved.