By His Rules (25 page)

there was something real too. It was so hot, the way you

wanted the pain. And I liked giving it to you.”

“Well, you are a top.” Aiden stroked Keaton’s

chest.

“But I’ve never been that kind of top. Whips,

chains, dungeons… boys wearing collars… I’ve done all

that before, but I never got much out of it.”

“We could do it sometimes, couldn’t we? When

we’re both in the mood? Not, like, whips and chains. But

you spanking me, for fun?”

“I think I’d like that.”

Aiden snuggled close to him, and Keaton felt an

overwhelming gladness at having him in his arms. “You

spank hard for such a nice guy.”

“That ass of yours begs for it.”

Aiden’s body tensed suddenly, and he rolled onto

his back, one hand on his stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Keaton asked. Aiden seemed out

of sorts tonight.

“N—”

“Don’t say nothing. You’ve been telling me that all

evening. The truth now.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“Okay.” Keaton was confused.

“I can’t go.”

“What?”

“I can’t—go to the bathroom. I can’t shit.”

Keaton set a hand on Aiden’s stomach. Aiden rolled

away from him and curled into a ball. “How long has

this been going on?”

“Five days?” Aiden said in a small voice.

“I see.”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal at first. My body’s

just not used to eating regularly, and I thought I just

needed some time… but now it hurts really bad.

Laxatives don’t help much, and I don’t know what to

do.”

Keaton uncurled him, pulling him closer. He

rubbed Aiden’s stomach, and this time Aiden let him,

sighing softly. “It might be a good idea for you to see a

doctor.”

“No! Keaton, seriously, I don’t want to see a doctor

about this.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“I hate doctors. They never help, and I can’t afford

one anyway.”

“Money is not an issue,” Keaton said firmly. “If you

need medical help, you’ll get it.”

“It fucking is an issue! But I wouldn’t want to go

even if I was a millionaire.”

Keaton decided not to press the matter. “You said

you tried laxatives?”

“Yeah, pills or whatever.”

“Suppositories?”

Aiden shook his head.

“What about an enema?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Very serious. It’s the quickest, easiest, and most

immediate solution.”

Aiden’s mouth fell open. “But it’s—But I can’t—It’s

gross
.”

“What makes it gross?”

“What do you think? And it’ll
hurt
.”

“Have you had one before?”

“Fuck no.” Aiden was wide awake and tense now.

Keaton stroked him reassuringly.

“It isn’t painful. It may cause some cramps, but they

won’t last long. And when it’s done, you’ll feel much

better.”

“I think I’ll just wait this out,” Aiden said uneasily.

“You really want to go a minute longer than you

have to feeling like this?”

“It’s better than having a fucking nozzle up my

ass.” But even as he spoke, he curled up with an arm

around his belly as another cramp hit.

“I’ll help you. It won’t be so bad.”

“God,” Aiden whispered. “You’re sure it won’t

hurt?”

Keaton felt a rush of warmth for the boy. One thing

he loved about Aiden was that, even at his most

vulnerable, he never sounded whiny or pathetic. Even at

his brattiest, he was intelligent, thoughtful, and capable.

Now he stared at Keaton, needing reassurance but not

sounding desperate or overwrought. Keaton stroked his

jaw. “It’ll be uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt.”

Keaton waited, holding his breath. Aiden had made

a huge stride toward trusting Keaton. But would he

decide to trust him on this?

“Okay,” Aiden said finally.

“Good boy,” Keaton praised.

“Now?”

“No reason for you to keep suffering.” Keaton

climbed out of bed.

“Keaton?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s—This isn’t a punishment, right? For not telling

you?”

“Jesus,” Keaton said, sitting back on the bed.

Aiden hurried on. “It’s just I know some people in

the scene use enemas as punishments.”

“Do you really think I’d do that? Use a medical

procedure that scares you as a punishment?”

Aiden shook his head. “I just don’t always know,

Keaton. I’m sorry.”

Keaton rubbed his shoulder. “This is to help you

feel better. It’s going to be just fine. Wait there.”

Keaton went to the closet in the hall and retrieved

what he needed. In the bathroom, he filled the red rubber

bag with warm water and saline solution. He connected

the tubing and let some of the solution flow onto his

hand, checking the temperature. He grabbed a thick

towel and returned to the bedroom. Aiden lay quietly on

his side, covers pulled up to his chin. Keaton reached

over him and removed the painting that hung on the wall

over the bed.

“What are you doing?” Aiden asked shakily.

“I’m going to hang the enema bag on this hook. It’s

about the right height.” He set the painting on the floor

and hung the enema bag, then snagged some lube from

the nightstand. He sat on the edge of the bed beside

Aiden, rubbing the boy’s shoulder through the blanket.

“You ready?”

“I really don’t feel well,” Aiden said quietly.

“Let me help you feel better.” Keaton peeled back

the covers.

Aiden shifted. “This is so fucking awful.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you mind?”

“Not at all.” Keaton spread the towel out on the

bed. “Here, lie on this. That way you don’t have to worry

about leaking.”

“Oh God.” Aiden shut his eyes.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“Shh.”

Aiden lay on the towel.

“Good. Bring your knee up toward your chest.”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“You’re doing fine. There you go.” Keaton stroked

his hip. “Now I’m going to lubricate the nozzle and slide

it inside. Then I’ll start the solution flowing. It’ll feel

strange at first. You’ll feel very full, and like I said, there

might be some cramps. Hold the solution inside you as

long as you can, and then when you’re ready, I’ll help

you to the bathroom.”

“Fuck. Okay. Let’s do this.”

Keaton squeezed some lube onto the enema nozzle,

then lubed Aiden’s entrance, making a soothing noise as

Aiden winced from the cold. “Ready? I’m going to slide

it in.” He positioned the small nozzle at Aiden’s opening

and slipped it in. Aiden’s breath caught. Keaton rubbed

Aiden’s back. “Doing fine. Okay, I’m going to start it

flowing now. Deep breaths. Try to relax.”

“Yeah, right,” Aiden muttered.

Keaton unclipped the tube. There was a slight

gurgling noise as the liquid passed through the tube.

Aiden lay tense and trembling, then jerked suddenly as

the first gush entered him. He was very quiet, making an

effort to breathe deeply. Keaton rubbed his hip and

murmured to him.

“That’s too much,” Aiden said suddenly. “I’m full.”

“About half to go.”

“Keaton!”

“Shh, kid. It’s all right.” He hated that Aiden was

uncomfortable, but he loved that the boy inched closer to

him, wanting his touch, his reassurance.

The bag finally went flat, and Keaton removed the

nozzle. A small amount of water spilled out of Aiden

onto the towel, and Aiden mewled.

“I’m sorry!”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Keaton assured

him. “That’s just what happens when the nozzle comes

out.”

“Now what?” Aiden asked in a small voice.

“Hold it as long as you can.”

“Shit. Fuck, it’s hurting. Keaton—”

“Just a cramp. Breathe through it. It’ll pass.”

Keaton rubbed circles on Aiden’s belly, easing the

tight muscles.

“I have to go,” Aiden whispered.

“Can you hold it just a couple more minutes?”

“I’ll try.”

“Breathe.” Aiden did. “Such a good boy.”

“It’s cramping again.”

Keaton rubbed his stomach until the cramp passed.

Aiden shuddered.

“I hate this.”

“Is it really so bad?”

Aiden nodded.

“You’re being very brave.”

“I’m a wimp.”

“Cut it out.” Keaton tapped his hip. “Being

respectful means respecting yourself—not just me.”

Aiden ducked his head. “Keaton, don’t punish me

now. It’s not fair; I already hurt so much.”

Keaton frowned. His poor brat was lost somewhere.

This experience—the discomfort, the intimacy, the

humiliation were all too much. “Of course I’m not going

to punish you. I just don’t want you attacking yourself.”

“I have to go—really!”

“All right. Let me help you up. Slowly. Moving

quickly can make the cramps worse. That’s it—lean on

me.” Keaton guided Aiden to the bathroom and lowered

him onto the toilet.

“Are you going to stay?” Aiden asked, looking

panicked.

“If you want me to, I will. If you want privacy, I’ll

go.”

“Privacy, please. I really appreciate—I just need—

oh God.”

“No problem. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

Keaton closed the bathroom door and went back to

the bed to collect the equipment. He was surprised

Aiden had found the experience so intense. Aiden had

experience with many different elements of kink, and

Keaton had assumed the boy had received an enema

before.

The toilet flushed. Keaton heard the shower go on.

Ten minutes later, Aiden emerged from the bathroom,

still pale and a little shaky. He tried to smile at Keaton.

“I feel ten pounds lighter.” He got into bed and curled

up next to Keaton. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

“Of course. I’ll always give you what you need.”

“Always?” Aiden sounded confused.

“As long as you’ll let me.”

Aiden was silent for a while. “My subletter’s

contract is up next week.”

Keaton felt like a rock had been dropped down his

throat into his stomach. “And you’re moving back?”

“He asked if he could take over the contract and

renew the lease.”

“And you said—”

“I don’t know. I can’t afford the place. But where

else would I go?”

“You could stay here,” Keaton suggested, trying to

remember how to breathe.

“For how long?”

Forever would be nice
. “As long as you want.”

“I still don’t have a job.”

“I still don’t care.”

“Keaton.” Aiden sighed. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t

you get pissed, having me mooch off you? And I’m

really—I keep getting in trouble, and I’m needy and

moody… ”

“I want you here, Aiden. It’s as simple as that.”

Aiden was quiet. “I like it here,” he said at last,

very softly.

“So stay. And we’ll figure things out from there.”

Aiden yawned. “I’m too tired to argue with you.”

“Good. Now go to sleep. We can talk in the

morning.”

Aiden obeyed, tucking his body against Keaton’s

and closing his eyes. Keaton stroked his hair until the

boy’s breathing deepened and he slept.

It had seemed like the perfect solution five minutes

ago, but now Aiden sincerely doubted the wisdom of

what he’d done.

Yesterday he’d finally completed a draft of his

personal statement that he felt satisfied with. Using

Keaton’s prompts, he’d cobbled together a five-hundred-

word overview of his past experiences, goals, and

unique qualities that—while far from spectacular—was

better than anything he’d have come up with on his own.

But when he’d read over the statement today, he realized

there was nothing good about it at all. It sounded

cloying, clichéd, and no admissions director in his or her

right mind would look twice at it.

So he’d deleted the document from his computer

and shredded his only hard copy. It was no worse a fate

than the tripe deserved, except now he didn’t have a

personal statement, and his applications were due in a

week.

He sighed. He didn’t want to tell Keaton.
Really

didn’t want to tell Keaton. But he felt confused and

stressed and angry, and according to Rule Five, these

were all conditions he was required to report.

The lousy personal statement was partly Keaton’s

fault. Aiden hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything

in the last few days except his increasingly puzzling

feelings for the man. They’d gone out to dinner last night

to celebrate Aiden getting the job at Zippy’s Pizza, and