Paid to Take Control Page 4

  He could smell cinnamon and amber, deep heady notes, dangerously enticing.

  Painter was touching him now, his hand grasped Brio’s and his other hand was on his elbow, “I got you,” the voice was different now, genuine, and Brio responded to it.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, “Little bit of a moment there, I think I stood up too quickly and I didn’t have breakfast,”

  Cashel laughed and covered for him, “I know you were nervous about today,”

  Painter dropped his hand and stepped back, “Nothing to be nervous about,” he said easily, and that distance was back, like a subtle disharmonic, “We’re just talking today aren’t we, nothing to be stressed about,”

  Brio sat back down, he felt confused, unsure, this guy was giving him mixed signals and he wasn’t doing anything other than standing there.

  “Shall we just jump straight into it,” suggested Cash and indicated Painter should take a seat opposite Brio.

  ◆◆◆

  “How are your classes going?” Cashel asked Painter,

  “Good, I think,” Painter replied, “It’s been tough, I won’t deny it, it’s a lot to take in, but Delphic has great resources, they have people giving me a grounding in lots of things,”

  Cashel smiled encouragingly.

  “I had no idea that the Agency had access to all this,” Painter shook his head, “Did you know there’s a whole wing of training rooms and playrooms?”

  “Well, yes, “Cashel laughed, “I spend a lot of time in them,”

  “Lucky bitch,” Brio muttered to himself.

  “So, anyway, I’m pleased that it’s going well and that you’re comfortable to enter contract negotiations with Brio,”

  Painter laughed, “I don’t think I’m ready to take him on just yet,” he threw an admiring grin at Brio, who smirked with pride, “But I think I can offer something to the situation at this stage,”

  “I don’t need a full-time dom at this point anyway,” Brio said confidently, “I’m good, I’m working well, that thing a few weeks ago was just a blip, I’m fine, Ash was over-reacting as usual!”

  He knew that wasn’t true but he sensed a reluctance in Painter that was putting him on edge.

  “Why don’t we hear from Painter what he thinks he can offer first,” Cashel’s voice held a mild rebuke, “Before you start maintaining you are ‘fine’,” Brio hated it when Cash did the air quote thing.

  Painter ran a hand through his hair, “Well, I think, looking at the file, that maintenance spankings seemed to be effective in the past,” his expression was open and honest, “I would feel comfortable setting up a schedule to deliver those,”

  Honored! Thought Brio to himself,

  Cashel was making notes, “When are you returning home Brio?” he asked

  “I’m moving out of Ash and Richard’s place tomorrow,” he said, “And that’s not soon enough, I can’t stand living with a couple who put cock cages through the dishwasher, it’s just wrong.”

  Painter snorted with laughter and Brio felt a gleeful frisson at making him laugh. Painter smiled flirtatiously at Brio from under his eyelashes and Brio was struck by how handsome he was.

  “I think a schedule of maintenance spankings would be a great place to start, so shall we say Painter will start to deliver those every evening starting next Monday?” Cashel was all business.

  “Yeah,” Brio couldn’t take his eyes away from Painter. Painter’s expression was openly admiring now and Brio felt himself blush under his hot stare.

  “Does that work for you Painter?”

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Are you happy to start delivering maintenance spankings to Brio from next Monday evening?” Cashel repeated.

  Painter seemed to pull himself together, “Yes, yeah, that’s good,”

  “What else are you comfortable with Painter?” Cashel asked.

  Painter looked down at his hands, his brow furrowed, Brio wanted to wipe the lines away, “Right now I’m taking classes fast,” he said, “And I enjoy them but, and I want to stress this,” his expression was serious, “And I wanted Brio to hear it too. No matter what the psych report says there is a big difference between inclination and competence.

  “I want to try and give the contract what it needs,” he glanced at Brio, almost guilty, “but I don’t want to be distracted by my own urges, so at least in the short term I think I need the contract to be non-sexual on my side,”

  Cashel raised his eyebrows, “That’s commendable Painter,” he said,

  Brio couldn’t help himself, “Yeah, that’s excellent,” he said, “That’s great for me because I just hate it when someone so reluctant gets off on me!”

  “I’m not reluctant,” Painter looked down at his hands, “I’m just cautious,”

  “And I’m a sub; I kinda need my Dom to want me!”

  “Oh I want you,” Painter turned to him, and just for a moment Brio saw the creature he was hiding inside and it thrilled him, “I wanted you the second I saw you. Right now I want to shut up that smart mouth of yours with my cock and choke you on it,” Painter mastered himself with visible effort.

  “Do it,” breathed Brio, he leaned into Painter’s space, “Let’s see what you’ve got Venditor,”

  Painter’s hand was in his hair in microseconds, his fist twisted in the thick dark strands and Brio went with it, going pliant, his head tilting where Painter guided it and his breath coming in gasps.

  “Enough,” Cashel’s voice was like a whipcrack.

  “Fuck,” Painter released Brio’s hair and stood up, “I knew this was a bad idea, it’s too soon, I haven’t got full control of this yet,”

  “Sit down,” Cashel’s voice was back to its usual, mild tone, “Painter is right, it is too soon for him to be considering sexual gratification from this, he is a high level dominant who is just learning and you,” he leveled a reproachful stare at Brio, “are a little shit with the ability to press buttons, please stop it!”

  “Sorry,” Brio wasn’t sorry, he knew tonight would be full of fantasies about the big man with the demon inside, that voice, that look, that hand in his hair.

  “I think we have covered enough for this session,” Cashel said, “And I see Richard is here to pick you up,” Brio looked up and saw Richard making his away across the lawn towards them, “I think we can agree that the maintenance spankings are a go and other activities will come online as and when required for Brio’s wellbeing but that Painter will not be seeking sexual gratification of his own for now,”

  Painter nodded, silent.

  “We’ll get there guys,” said Cashel, “You’re both complicated, but if we proceed with caution I think you could have a lovely dynamic,”

  By the look on his face Painter was far from confident about that, Brio thought.

  “Hey,” Richard greeted them, “You guys done here?”

  “Yes, we were just wrapping up,” said Cashel, “How are you?”

  “Good,” Richard’s smile was easy, “Nice to see you again Painter,” he nudged the seated man with hip, “Sorry I didn’t say goodbye properly last time, was kind of out of it,”

  There was a story there that Brio wanted to hear.

  Painter was struggling to make eye contact with Richard, “No worries man,” he said, “And thanks for the demo, it was really uh useful.”

  “Good,” Richard said

  “Hey, how did your doctorate defense go?” Painter asked, clearly trying to return the conversation to normality.

  “It went well,” Richard’s smile was wide and proud, “I’m Dr. Gannon now,”

  “Fantastic, well done,” Painter’s smile was genuine,

  “Yeah, a single doctorate,” said Brio with more jealousy than he thought he possessed, “I call that a good start,”

  Painter turned stern blue eyes on Brio, “That was rude,” he said, “Apologize,”

  Brio thrilled at the wave of dominance Painter broadcast at him, “Sorry Richard,” he said guiltily, “Tha
t was ridiculous of me, I’m in a weird bitch mood,”

  “Good boy,” Painter’s voice was a lower, softer, just for Brio and he felt the praise curl around him like a hug.

  “I think I’m going to like you,” Richard said to Painter.

  ◆◆◆

  Brio was in the gym when Painter let himself into the house. His phone, placed strategically within view flashed a notification when the front door was opened by Painter keying in the security code.

  Being in the gym was a deliberate move on Brio’s part, he didn’t want to look as though he had been sitting around waiting for a spanking, and apart from that exercise helped to keep his mind calm. Of course, he was also aware that he looked good in sweatpants and a cut off t-shirt with his muscles warmed from working over the punchbag. Brio was the first to admit he could be shallow.

  Despite the interval whilst Painter had been going through training Brio hadn’t been lying when he said he was feeling okay. He’d been stable, working well with Ash on a new configuration of the primary algorithm as well as doing his private experimentation on the structure of the pre-frontal cortex as it related to inhibition of sexual desire. It was a fascinating line of inquiry and he had happily spent the afternoon at the university lab poring over brain slices.

  Brio was immediately aware when Painter entered the room and he allowed himself to show off a little as he circled the punch bag on quick feet, his jabs and ducks fluid and graceful. For all his quirks he knew he didn’t look like the stereotypical gay sub, he had muscle on his long frame, and he was fast and strong and it felt good to know Painter’s eyes were on him.

  Painter didn’t interrupt, just got in his line of sight, and waited for Brio to acknowledge him. Brio’s heart rate had risen by the time he deigned to stop and he flicked his sweaty hair out of his eyes before he turned to Painter. The smirk on Painter’s face as he leaned against the gym wall made Brio hotter. “I hope you intend to shower before I get up close and personal with your body,” Painter remarked.

  “Didn’t think you cared,” Brio bitched.

  “Slapping cold sweat, not so appealing,” Painter shrugged and Brio couldn’t help but smile.

  “It does sound gross when you put it like that,” he admitted. He began to unwrap his hands, pulling at the tape with his teeth to get it started.

  “Hey, let me,” Painter stepped into his space, and Brio was struck again by how tall he was. Brio edged six foot and Painter looked down on him easily.

  “You have an awesome set up here,” Painter commented, his hands deftly working the tape loose from Brio’s fists, “The whole house is amazing, it took me ten minutes to find you. I had to follow the sound of punching and grunts, I thought you’d started without me,”

  His smile was so easy and charming that Brio felt like a dick for not meeting him at the door, “Sorry,” he said, “I should have come upstairs, I knew you were here. It was a shitty way to welcome you,”

  “Not a problem, not a punishable offense, this time,” Painter was different this time, more confident, more teasing, more settled. His training must be helping him.

  “Still, can’t be easy just walking into someone’s home like this,”

  “I’ve been doing it for ten years,” Painter shrugged, “I’m used to finding my way around strange but beautiful houses,” he rolled the tape from Brio’s hands into a ball, “Still I wouldn’t mind a tour now I have your attention, or would you prefer we get straight down to it, host’s choice, just for tonight.”

  Brio suppressed a shiver. Painter was a lot more upfront than he had expected him to be. He thought there would be a lot more toing and froing before they got into it.

  “I think I’m just going to go and take a quick shower,” he said, “You can have a look around on your own, it’s all open to you,”

  “Okay,” Painter was equable and unphased, “And you’ve eaten, right,”

  “Yeah, I had a meal when I came in from work, I was just going to work out, do, um, the thing with you, and then go to bed,”

  “Fine, works for me,” Painter had his hands in the pockets of his jeans, they might as well have been discussing a lift share. “I’ll meet you in the living room – I assume that’s the place with the sofas and the fuck off fireplace – when you’ve had a shower. Wear something light, another pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt should be fine,”

  Painter’s attitude was throwing Brio, it was too calm, too easy, too settled. He was like he was reading from the Spanking 101 textbook but had forgotten or was unwilling to turn on the emotional component. This was going to be a fucking disaster.

  ◆◆◆

  When Brio walked into the living room Painter was stood in front of the fireplace. He had his hands behind his back and he stared into space. When he turned to look at Brio all trace of the easy-going, lazily charming man of earlier was gone. His gaze was direct and his posture tighter as if he was aware of every muscle group in his body and had mastered them all.

  “I’ll have you over the arm of the sofa,” his voice was slower, lower and Brio found he was moving before he was aware of it.

  “Here?” he indicated the wide cushioned arm of the leather sofa to the left of the fireplace.

  “Yes, bend over it, cross your hands behind your back, feet together.”

  It was a long time since he had done this, Brio thought, years really since he submitted himself to a spanking outside of a club or a hookup.

  You never forget your posture though, he thought to himself as he folded himself over the arm of the sofa and settled into position, his left hand holding his right wrist in the small of his back.

  “Good boy,” Painter was closer and Brio shivered at the praise, so longed for, so missed.

  He closed his eyes and tried to banish the excitement he felt, this was just a maintenance spanking, nothing to get excited about, just something to settle him, something to get used to again.

  “What’s your safeword, Brio?”

  “Cabbage,”

  “That has got to be the crappiest safeword on the planet!” there was a hint of his previous humor in Painter’s voice and Brio felt a giggle bubble up inside him.

  “My Grandmother always said I was not so green as I was cabbage looking,”

  “She was probably right,” Painter’s hand rested on Brio’s clasped wrists and his skin was warm and dry and the touch comforting, “Are you using your safeword Brio,”

  “No, Sir,” the honorific was purely instinctual.

  “I’m going to pull your pants down and tuck your t-shirt up. I expect you to hold your t-shirt, don’t let it go, and don’t move your hands from behind your back. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Brio could feel the familiar tension coiling through him, nervous energy in his gut, a buzzing in his ears. He wanted this more than he was prepared to admit.

  “I’m going to warm you up with three strikes to either side and then we’ll take it from there,”

  “How many are you giving me, Sir?”

  “As many as I need to get the result I want,”

  If Brio didn’t know better he would think that Painter had done this every day for the last decade. His voice didn’t display a quaver of doubt. His energy was alluring, spreading out to haul Brio in, making him feel cared for without a single stroke having landed.

  He jerked and gasped when he felt his pants being eased down but Painter’s hand on his wrists quietened him, “Still Brio, I want you to keep still for me, can you do that,”

  “Yes,”

  “I didn’t hear you Brio,” there was a threat in the voice now, a promise of disappointment and Brio didn’t want that.

  “Yes, Sir,”

  “Good boy,” Brio breathed again, “Now hold your t-shirt for me,” Brio felt the hem of his t-shirt being lifted and he grasped the edge of it firmly with his right hand.

  “I’m going to begin now,”

  The first stroke to his left ass cheek stung and was gone, the pain a soothing
surge of sunshine on a cold day, just enough to warm. The next was lower, the same side, on his sit spot, and Brio arched luxuriously into it. So good, the sound of the hand on his flesh was like music waking him up.

  The third smack on the left side was deliciously warm and left a lingering heat.

  Painter moved on to strike three times on the right side before he stroked the curves of Brio’s ass soothingly. “That was great Brio,” he said, “You’ve got a little bit of color now so we’re going to go harder.” Brio shivered, “I don’t want you to be quiet, I want to hear you, but I do need you to keep still for me.”

  “Yes, Sir,”

  Brio knew better than to brace himself, tighten the muscles and it hurt more, but he was out of practice and he tensed just before Painter landed the first solid spank on him and it was a corker.

  Brio gasped, going up on his toes, surprised by the force behind the blow.

  “Settle, Brio,” Painter’s voice was heavy and impossible to disobey and his hand landed again on Brio’s wrists to hold him down,

  “Colour, Brio?”

  “Green,” Brio gasped, “God, green,”

  The next blow landed and Brio cried out with it, so good, so bad, such heat. Painter’s hands were big, they covered a wide area and he wasn’t holding back but he didn’t concentrate on just one spot. He worked Brio over evenly, thoroughly. Whoever taught him was a fucking expert.

  Within minutes the pain was a flickering living thing wrapped around Brio. His ass smarted, his breath was gasping and his eyes had begun to well with tears but he clenched his jaw and held his position.

  “Good boy, doing so well, taking it so well,” Painter’s voice was thick, his tone deeper than ever, his pleasure in Brio so apparent it filled Brio’s dried up little heart and he wanted to weep for the good boy he could be.

  He sobbed at the next stroke, dropping his head and raising his hips, lifting himself towards the pain. It had been so long since he had felt this.

  Brio was tired and worn out from fighting himself and the pain was a living thing that teased him and burned him and built and built with every stroke and then the pain was gone and he was crying, gulping out great heaving sobs and the heat was wrapped around him, cocooning him.