Screw the Fags (2 page)

“You’ll get what you’re given.”

Cosmo was still talking about Jacuzzis and inbuilt mini-bars as Alasdair climbed the stairs. If Cosmo were anyone else he’d worry the lad was getting spoiled, but since Cosmo always acted truly grateful for all the little things Alasdair did for him, he figured these rambling flights of fancy were just his way of dealing with the challenge he’d been set. If it took his mind off the ciggies that could only be a good thing. And there were a few more things that should definitely help. Alasdair grinned to himself as he headed over to his cupboard of toys.

***

Five minutes to go, and Cosmo already had his acoustic guitar waiting by the front door and was busy rummaging through the drawer of crap in the kitchen. Every kitchen had one, no matter how posh said kitchen was, and Alasdair’s contained exactly the same sort of odds and ends that Cosmo’s nan’s did, despite this kitchen probably costing more than her entire house.

“Ah, there you are, you little bugger.” Cosmo fished out the last of the freezer bags and dropped his unsmoked rollie inside before sealing it up. He then found a permanent marker—also handily located in the same drawer of crap—and wrote on the white square the bag manufacturers had provided.

Three minutes to go. Right. He could actually be a little early. That would catch Alasdair by surprise. It was always fun, behaving himself and watching Alasdair fight back his amazement. He was too good a Top to betray every emotion on his face, but Cosmo could pick up the signals by now.

He slouched by the front door, then thought better of it and stood with his head bowed, hands clasped on his crown, feet shoulder width apart. Alasdair liked that pose. He always started off their training sessions with it, easing gradually into the more challenging positions. Cosmo had thought he’d hate it—being made to get into named positions—but the funny thing was it was actually quite relaxing. Like kinky yoga. And the more difficult positions were particularly appealing because they either meant Alasdair was going to tie him up, whip him or fuck him. Preferably all three, in that order.

Bugger. Now he was getting hard. Alasdair had been getting stricter about inappropriate erections just lately. In fact, he’d been gradually getting stricter about a lot of things. Cosmo frowned. He’d never have signed up for this lifestyle if someone had told him back then he’d be dropping to his knees to kiss Alasdair’s boots on a daily basis. But somehow... he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Despite the whole corporate arsehole daytime act, underneath it all Alasdair was a hot leather Daddy with cool tattoos and a secret marshmallow centre. Submitting to him just felt right, for some bizarre reason.

“Okay, now you’re making me suspicious,” Alasdair said. “What have you done?”

Cosmo tried to stifle his smile. “Nothing, boss. Just wanted to please you.”

In his peripheral vision Cosmo could see Alasdair circling around him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the floor. Funny. He should be finding this humiliating, but instead it made him feel powerful. Cosmo had chosen it. Every bit of this was his free choice. Even the whole being dominated part. Even the giving up smoking part. He could always say no, and he knew Alasdair would respect his decision even if he didn’t like it.

He just didn’t want to say no to Alasdair. Nine out of ten times, the man knew what was best for him, and the other one time... well, Cosmo had to have a few vices, didn’t he? If being a contrary brat was the only one left, so be it.

Eventually Alasdair stepped close and grabbed him by the chin, forcing his head up. “You’ve pleased me. Thank you for agreeing to give up smoking so readily. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“That’s okay.” Cosmo couldn’t maintain the pretence of martyrdom when staring into Alasdair’s kind eyes. The truth bubbled up. “I kind of wanted to give up anyway. Just didn’t think I could manage it on my own.”

“You’re not on your own. You’ve got me. Always. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know it.”

Alasdair smiled and kissed him. Not for long, and not with tongue, but he sucked Cosmo’s lower lip into his mouth and bit just hard enough to make him moan and thrust his crotch in Alasdair’s direction. Alasdair pulled back and looked at his watch. “Hmm, tempting, but I need to be in for a staff meeting.”

“But you’re the boss. Can’t you reschedule?”

“A good boss serves his employees. Not the other way around.”

“What will I do while you’re in this meeting?”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Alasdair grinned wolfishly.

Uh oh.

***

Alasdair closed his office door behind them and gave Cosmo a moment to put down his guitar and shuck off his jacket. He glanced up at the clock. Five minutes before the senior cleaning team managers would be up here to discuss proposed uniform changes with him. Right. Not much time.

“Over here and pull up your T-shirt,” he ordered, as he flipped open his briefcase.

“Huh?” Cosmo walked over. “I thought you had a meeting.”

“I do. And I don’t see you pulling up your T-shirt.”

Cosmo gave him a wary look, but hoiked up the skin-tight fabric that declared him to be a “Manhole Inspector”. It was a good thing Alasdair’s staff had already met Cosmo at the summer and Christmas parties. He figured they were probably immune to the lad’s shock value by now.

Alasdair pulled out the tiny clamps from his jacket pocket.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

Alasdair pinched Cosmo’s nipples so they pebbled up, then one by one, pulled them through the clamp jaws and tightened the delicate screws on each side. They went behind the barbells Cosmo now wore through both nipples, pushing them forward in a provocative way. He normally only made Cosmo wear clamps during sex, but he figured they could be useful today.

“Ow!” Cosmo’s breath came faster for a moment, but then settled back into something deeper. Alasdair pulled his top back down again and studied the way it pulled over Cosmo’s chest. You wouldn’t even know the clamps were there. Not unless you really knew what you were looking for.

Cosmo’s eyelids fluttered and Alasdair could see a distinct bulge in his jeans. “Naughty boy. What have I told you about badly behaved pricks?”

“That they won’t get any attention from you?”

“Damn right.”

“Sorry, boss. You just look really fucking hot in your suit.”

“Not a good enough excuse.” Although it was always good for the ego to hear that from a man in his twenties.

Cosmo squeezed his eyes shut and his lips began moving fast. Reciting his lyrics, probably. He generally did that when he wanted to distract his mind away from his body’s reactions. This was good, though. Between fighting off his arousal and the sensation of the clamps, Cosmo wouldn’t have time to think about cigarettes. Oh, and Alasdair had other distractions planned too.

“Right. Off to the kitchen. We’re going to need a couple of large pots of coffee. One decaf. And a pot of tea. Remember to bring a jug of milk and bowl of sugar, too. I want all that here in five minutes. Understand?”

“Umm... I don’t know where anything is.”

“You’ll figure it out. Ask someone if you need directions. Now come on, out of the way. I need you to make yourself useful around here today. No lazing around in my place of work. You can practise your guitar later, but for now I want you to serve tea and coffee to everyone. Afterwards, you can go and wait quietly at my desk until the meeting’s finished. Hands on your lap, head bowed. No talking.”

“God, you really are a control freak, aren’t you?” Cosmo was still grumbling as he left the room, but he certainly wasn’t dragging his heels or slouching.

Yes, he might pretend to resent being ordered around, but deep down he seemed to need it.

Not all the time, though, and the difficult thing was learning when to back off.

How the hell they were both going to survive a nicotine-craving Cosmo at Alasdair’s workplace he had no idea, but they’d muddle through somehow.

They always did.

***

Being at work with Alasdair was pretty bloody boring, it had to be said. The man had spent most of the morning sitting behind his desk, and whenever he did need to go out to talk to people down in the other departments, he told Cosmo to stay behind and practise his guitar.

Trouble was, he couldn’t get into the right headspace for working on his new song here in the office, what with knowing Alasdair’s PA, Denise, was sat right on the other side of the door and probably listening in. So instead he decided to practise some of his slaveboy positions. Alasdair would approve of that, surely?

This time it was a really tricky one, on his knees with legs spread wide, arms thrown back so his hands touched the floor and his back arched upwards. They called it the “prick and nipple offer” pose and it usually meant Cosmo was about to get some kind of exciting pain in either his nipples or genitals—preferably both—but today he was fully clothed and his nipples were already in a considerable amount of pain from the clamps. Not exactly the good sort of pain, either.

A knock sounded on the door, right before it swung open.

“Got a contract amendment for you to si—” Mavis stopped, staring. “Oh, Alasdair not here?”

“Nuh-uh,” was about all he could manage in response after holding the pose for what felt like forever, but was probably only a few minutes. What was Alasdair’s deputy manager doing here? Hadn’t Alasdair gone off to a meeting with her?

“Is that yoga? I didn’t realise you did it.”

Damn. Cosmo broke the pose and carefully pushed himself back into a kneeling position. “Just started taking a class.”

“Yes?” Mavis’s eyes went wide. Did that mean she didn’t believe him? He still didn’t know how to read the woman. “I’ve never seen that position before. Is it Hatha or Iyengar?”

“Err, something different, I think. Some kind of yoga/breakdance fusion thingie. It’s all modern. Sensei calls this the Sun Worship pose.”

“Sensei? Since when was a yoga teacher called sensei?”

Shit. It was an ‘I don’t believe you’ face after all. “He’s not just a yoga teacher. Does all sorts of martial arts. He chucks in some kickboxing too. Says I’m a natural.”

“Sounds... fascinating. Actually, my niece might be interested in a class like that. Where’s it held?”

Shitshitshitshitshit.
“Erm, I don’t actually go out to classes. He only does private lessons. I think it’s pretty expensive. You’d have to ask Alasdair for his number.” But not until Cosmo had had a chance to speak to him first.

“Okay, I’ll do that.”

Much to Cosmo’s relief, Mavis trotted out then. He sagged with relief, then went to pull his phone out so he could text Alasdair a quick warning about his fictional yoga lessons.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Alasdair said from behind him, his voice quiet, but all the more chilling for it. “I thought I told you practise your guitar.”

Uh oh. Cosmo swung round, head bowed. “Sorry boss, but I couldn’t concentrate so I was practising my sex poses instead, then Mavis comes in without bloody well knocking or anything and starts asking me all kinds of questions. I had to come up with a bunch of total crap about some yoga lessons. That woman’s a fucking bloodhound. She wants details of everything. I swear she could tell I was lying.” He ventured a quick glance up at Alasdair’s face, but rather than the scowl he’d expected, Alasdair just looked amused.

“Yep. That’s why she’s my second in command. Can’t pull the wool over Mavis’s eyes.”

“So... what did she really think I was doing?”

Alasdair walked over to his desk and sat on the edge, still smiling. “I imagine she thinks you were practising some kinky sex move.”

“What, she knows? You told her?”

“I haven’t told her anything, but we’ve been friends for many years. She knows where my interests lie by now. It’s just a case of reading between the lines, and she’s an expert at that.”

“Huh.” The idea of Mavis knowing that he was a submissive made Cosmo squirm. He shouldn’t be ashamed, he knew that by now. After all, he was okay with Roger, Tori, Cerys and Freddie knowing, but they were all perverts too. Vanilla people tended to have all kinds of weird ideas about submissives. He should know. He used to share some of those prejudices himself.

“What are you thinking?”

“Just silly stuff.”

“Come here.” Alasdair moved down off the edge of the desk and patted where he’d been sitting.

Cosmo walked over and took his place, automatically spreading his legs wide. Open legs were the mark of a slut, apparently, and Alasdair liked him to always sit that way. More to the point, Cosmo liked it too. Especially when Alasdair stood between his thighs, like he was right now.

“There’s nothing silly about your feelings, and I want you to share them with me. Total honesty.”

Okay, and there was the toughest thing about being in love with a sadist. No place to hide. “I’m worried she’ll think less of me. For giving in so easily.”

“Is it easy? Giving over your will to mine?”

Cosmo thought about it. “Sometimes. Not always. You can be a right demanding bastard at times, boss.”

“I’m pretty sure Mavis knows that first hand. I can imagine that like me, she’d only respect you for being strong enough to give up that much control. I couldn’t do what you do, you know that, right?”